Everything was going exactly as planned.
Guests were happily enjoying the company of the Hosts, the Hosts themselves were mingling with important social figures, Chairman Suoh was talking with Haruhi, Tamaki hadn't yet made an ass of himself, and the general exhibition was going off without any sort of hitch.
The director of the Host Club smiled to himself, setting his notebook down and turning to check the state of the refreshments.
"Why, Mr. Ootori!"
Those three words froze him in his tracks. Why was he here? He hadn't said a word about the Ouran Fair, not to either of his parents and not to any of his siblings. Not even to the staff. How had his father found out?
Don't panic, he reassured himself. Keep calm. Father knows about the Ouran Fair as an event the school always holds. He's probably just passing through, keeping up appearances. He has no idea that I'm here. All I need to do is avoid him.
"-surprised to see you here! I thought all of your children had finished high school!"
"Not quite yet. My youngest son is still only a Second-Year."
His voice was getting closer, and the dark-haired boy braved the twelve steps toward the refreshment table. Cowardly, yes, but this was an unplanned event. Avoidance was the best course of action, avoidance and distraction with club business. When he heard someone come to a stop behind him, out of habit, his shoulders straightened, he adjusted his clothes, and turned slowly around, the superficial smile already plastered on his face.
"Welcome to the Host Club-"
His blood turned to ice in his veins. The man behind him adjusted his glasses, the lenses flashing in the light.
"Father-"
Then came the slap. The sting, the sound of skin-on-skin. Not pain, never pain, but surprise. It knocked him off balance, and the glasses off of his face. Whether his knees actually buckled and gave or he unconsciously sank to the floor in pursuit of his glasses, it was hard to tell, even for him.
The entire room went silent, only one voice heard over the deafening quiet. "Kyoya-senpai!"
"Is this how my son has been wasting his time?" the harsh, deep voice growled as the boy returned his glasses to their place on his face.
He stood quickly, not looking at the man. Meeting his father's eyes would only give fuel to the controlled flame of his disappointment. He raised his chin slightly, trying to give the impression that his pride was not hurt. Honey-senpai said something, but Kyoya didn't hear him. He only heard his father's anger, and the cutting words he spoke.
"You are an embarrassment to the Ootori name."
After the words had left him, the Ootori patriarch walked away from his third son, leaving Kyoya standing where he was.
The rest of the club rushed to their director, and though Kyoya didn't care to register what was being said, it was evident enough by their tones how he should reply as he walked back to retrieve his notebook.
"Don't worry about it. It's not like I haven't been expecting this."