Disclaimer: OHSHC is not mine.
AN: This fic is a bit of an experiment, so feel free to share your thoughts on the effect of tense, brackets and perspective within the fic. Contentwise, it is also an experiment... so I wouldn't mind some opinions (or heads-up if I got something wrong).
Warnings: None for this chapter. Please head the overall rating for this fic.
Miscalculation
"Shirokawa's eldest son is joining Ouran tomorrow, isn't he?"
"Indeed, father."
"You've met him already at the presentation of their last quarter report, didn't you? A friendship might be advantageous for our family, as well."
Kyouya has done his research when he meets Shirokawa in Ouran's hallway for the first time (just as he expected, his own class is currently en route to another attempt at physics that will bore one half to tears, while the other half really could not care less. Shirokawa's class is due for a go at music lessons.). Shirokawa is conspicuous by towering over the rest of the student body by a good head – Mori may still be taller, and Mori may also be the better material artist, but Shirokawa is built like a pro-wrestler.
"Ootori-kun!" Shirokawa exclaims, a wide smile spreading over his face – the students part for him automatically.
Kyouya ignores Tamaki's reaction (yes, Kyouya has a number of acquaintances in his age range outside of Ouran), and steps forward with a smile of his own. "Shirokawa-senpai. It's a pleasure to see you here."
Shirokawa laughs. "Oh, like you wouldn't believe it – so many new people, and I don't know anybody. You have no clue how happy I am to see a familiar face. Say, do you think you could show me around? Or just help me find my way? I think I already got lost about three times in two days, and honestly, my sense of orientation isn't that bad."
"Of course I can. Ouran's grounds are quite vast," Kyouya replies instantly. He thinks this may be a good moment to introduce Tamaki – he can feel the blond growing impatient beside him. The moment he is about to speak, Shirokawa interrupts.
"Super! After school, then?" Shirokawa appears rather eager. He is also standing a little too close for Kyouya's comfort.
"I'd love to, but I'm afraid I will be busy with club. Maybe …"
"Never mind, I'll just wait then," Shirokawa says as if that's the most obvious thing in the world, "Well, I have to run now. See you later!"
Kyouya feels Tamaki's inquisitive gaze boring into him. "An acquaintance," he replies to the unvoiced question.
"Who is that guy?" Haruhi asks during a quiet second. Few of those exist during club hours – most are hard-won during costume-changing or costume-readjusting time.
Kaoru, adjusting a colorful hat next to her, shrugs.
"Shirokawa Kensuke," Hunny chimes in, "Transferred to Ouran just this Monday. It seems he knew Kyou-chan from before."
She nods thoughtfully, eyeing the tall third-year student (who, occupying Kyouya for this afternoon, had garnered much attention) curiously. Probably he is just at odds with all the new faces and sought out the sole familiar one.
Of course, owing to her distraction her costume ends up crooked, earning her a severe scolding from both Hikaru and Tamaki.
Shirokawa, it turns out, remains bad at making friends. While he is certainly not bad looking, a number of girls are simply intimidated by his sheer size. As are also a number of their male classmates, according to Hunny's and Mori's report. Another rumor blames his odd behavior and strange statements made in class – for the host club, well used to Tamaki's antics – this is merely something to shrug off.
Still, after ten days Kyouya admits Shirokawa's presence is bad for business – due to scaring off a number of shyer customers as well as occupying Kyouya's time exclusively. Thus, the next day ten minutes into the hosting session the twins accidentally spill a can of soda over Shirokawa, and the third-year student has no choice but leave (nobody mentions the room stuffed with costumes right next door).
Moments after Shirokawa is out of the door, Tamaki tackles Kyouya with a shout of "Mother!", while the twins join in, cajoling about how Daddy needs to make a bigger effort from now on, because "Daddy doting on his daughter is wonderful, but he needs to take care of Mommy too! If he doesn't, somebody else might take Mommy away, and then we'd all be sad, wouldn't we, Kaoru?"
"Terrible, Hikaru, but as long as you are there, I will not fall apart. If somebody tried to take you away from me, however, I would not know how to survive," Kaoru hugs his brother closer amid enthusiastic cheering from their audience.
"Neither would I, beloved brother," says Hikaru, and noise levels go straight through the ceiling.
Then Tamaki takes the stage. "More fool was I – almost blinded by love for my adorable daughter – " Nobody even sees Haruhi roll her eyes – "that I forgot about the one who has been by my side for so long. Will you ever forgive me, mother?"
Kyouya is gritting his teeth too hard to reply. Decking Tamaki seems a valid option, though for some reason he himself introduced a "no violence during business hours" policy some time ago. It had sounded like a good idea, then, though he honestly can't remember any good reason – especially when Tamaki throws an arm around his shoulder and forcibly draws him into a hug.
And the girls love it.
"I promise, I shall make up for my lack of attention! From now on I will not let anybody separate Mommy and Daddy! Not even Mother's beloved notebook!"
Kyouya attempts to catch a glimpse of Tamaki's face – that last declaration was new to the script – though instead found his own face thoroughly pressed against the crook of Tamaki's neck (bony, hard, and his glasses get squished to his faze). Furthermore, Tamaki's imitation of an octopus is very skillfully done – he has no choice but to stumble along as Tamaki drags him over to one of the couches.
Eventually, they host together – something they rarely do – the girls are ecstatic, and as unreadable as Kyouya is, Haruhi gains the expression he is not quite adverse to it. Even if the first thing he does afterwards is head for his laptop.
Any joy is gone from Kyouya's face the next day when Tamaki proudly presents his cosplay plan: acting out their family roles, in Victorian-style costumes. Haruhi is not happy either – while Tamaki gushes over details and how this is going to show the depth of their bond.
Hunny is not concerned what he wears as long as there is cake. Nobody has yet dared to suggest to Mori to wear a dress. Kyouya is about to refuse (though secretly he is impressed at how Tamaki managed to make arrangements in such a short time), but then the twins cheerfully proclaim they will act as female twins today. Victorian lady's fashion may be heavy and restrictive, but they're future designers – fashion is not about being comfortable (unless on special occasions); to them fashion is art.
Thus Kyouya acknowledges defeat, dons the hideously uncomfortable costume and concurrently lectures the twins that corsets went out of fashion for a reason, namely constituting a danger to internal organs – and stop tightening it further!
Tamaki is happy with the final result, and the rest of the club eventually admits that yes, organization and execution certainly went smoothly. Their customers react better than predicted – Kyouya has, to his regret, not yet been able to correctly identify the factor by which the response of their customers to hosts in female get-up is amplified.
The twins' act does not make calculating this any easier. Their sisterly(?) love-act takes the audience in at once, and there is much cooing, squeeing, swooning and fainting. Five customers have to go and sit outside to calm down before the first ten minutes are over – a new record. Hikaru, unfazed, proceeds to play with Kaoru's skirt, faux-accidentally exposing one nicely-shaped, stocking-clad leg to the world. Not that Kaoru, resting on hand tenderly against his brother's cheek and playing with the hair-extensions, is any better.
If there is any dialogue it is lost among the exhilarated fangirls' yells.
Hunny and Mori have taken over the role of observing neighbors/ distant cousins. They, and their customers, sit – pretentiously civilized – around a table, drinking tea, eating lemon cake – and sharing hair-splitting (and toenail-curling) tales of the "family next door". According to Hunny, Tamaki swept "Mommy" of her feet in a whirlwind romance, leading them to elope to Iceland, before eventually settling down in Japan. Also, Tamaki is a professional dancer, and Kyouya used to work for the secret service.
Tamaki is more than happy to take the very random cues and go with them. Haruhi is happy that her name rarely appears in those convoluted tales. There may be a bit fewer customers at her table today, but at least those that are present are all capable of holding a decent conversation. Or spontaneously providing her with in-depth analysis of the host clubs' behavioral patterns. Which included a number of far-reaching conclusions Haruhi really could have done without (those included the terms: oral fixation, early-stage schizophrenia, projecting, id, and arachnophobia).
An hour into that madness Kyouya decids to sneak out for a break. His cheeks feel as stiff as the dress. And the next person to tell him this ten-kilo abnomination looks good on him was going to suffer. Grievously.
He has not expected to find somebody else in his sanctuary (a small sitting room, two doors down from the third music room. Probably a storage room earlier, now mostly empty but for some armchairs, a table and a lovely view of the sunset).
"Ootori!" Shirokawa grins at him, "Just the person I was waiting for. And I must say, this outfit looks lovely on you. You wouldn't by any chance be willing to accompany me like this to, let's say, the opera some time?"
Kyouya glares at him, and Shirokawa waves it off, laughing. "Never mind, never mind."
And then he steps closer, eyeing Kyouya intensly. "But you do look good, honestly."
Kyouya steps back, and his back hits the wall. Shirokawa seems to take no note of his discomfort (not that Kyouya is showing it, really, but backing somebody up against a wall is generally not considered polite).
"You know, I was thinking," Shirokawa says, and there is an odd tension in the air. Kyouya glances about the room, and just when Shirokawa reaches out for him, saying something about "the two of us are…" he exclaims "oh, there it is!" and pushes past the older student.
Kyouya picks up a random book from the table, and directs a polite smile at Shirokawa. "Well, I need to get back."
"He's annoying," is Hikaru's verdict after three weeks have gone by. Shirokawa seems to be everywhere Kyouya is – waiting after club, dropping in during class. Even Tamaki can't bring himself to like the third-year student.
"Maybe he's just insecure," Haruhi suggests without much conviction. Superficially it seems rather ridiculous for the bulkiest student at school to feel insecure of all things – but this is Ouran, and the picking order is not decided by muscle.
"Doesn't act like it, though," says Kaoru, "I mean, the clingy part fits, but it's not as if he was actually trying to befriend anybody from his year. He doesn't even try to get into contact with Hunny-senpai or Mori-senpai."
"Annoying," Hikaru reaffirms. Then he tilts his head. "And creepy, I think."
It's not a nice thing to say about somebody you hardly know – but Haruhi does not protest. And not because their math teacher just walked in.
During week no.4 of Shirokawa's presence Kyouya finds himself a lot of more tolerant of Tamaki's spontaneous side-trips when migrating from one classroom to another. It is almost as if Shirokawa memorized his time-table. And while Kyouya would never admit it, he subconsciously realizes he has started dodging the other.
Which can't go on. His father said to make friends, after all.
Thus, the next time Shirokawa waylays them, Kyouya lets himself be dragged away with a smile, mentioning to Tamaki to go ahead, and saying nothing about the too-tight grip Shirokawa has on his upper arm.
Unfortunately for him, however, Shirokawa seems to have no intention of letting go, even after they reached his destination – a secluded spot on the school's extensive grounds. Rather far away from the music room – he'll have to hurry to make it in time for club.
"… and it seems like I hardly ever see you anymore, Kyouya," Shirokawa says, smiling down at Kyouya, who can't recall ever having invited the other to use his first name.
"Well, we are both fairly busy after all," Kyouya says politely, raising his hands – he does not dare to push him away, since that is too close to a straight-out offense. And if he offends Shirokawa he can bury any hope of inheriting the Ootori empire instantly.
"Yeah, I suppose you're right. But I kind of really hope we'll get to spend some more time together, because, you know, I think we get along really well. Like, they say, a house on fire." Kyouya does not like the glint in Shirokawa's eyes as he is saying this.
The moment Kyouya had heard about Shirokawa joining Ouran he had done his homework. Their previous, superficial encounters had already revealed a number of uncomfortable details. Deeper research had not done anything to joss the tentative hypothesis Kyouya had developed.
Shirokawa had been young when his parents had gotten a divorce – a bad one, accompanied by bad press, fierce fights and few thoughts spared on how this was going to affect the couple's young son. Only a few month down the road and Shirokawa senior found living in the house impossible, disappearing for month-long business trips as often as possible.
"I want us to be best friends, Kyouya," Shirokawa proclaims, both of his hands now resting on Kyouya's shoulders – uncomfortably warm, and improperly close. (It is hypocritical of him, Kyouya realizes, he reacts completely different to comparable types of behavior from Tamaki. But he really does not like being so close to Shirokawa, not when the taller student is looking at him this intently.)
"And also I want…" A ringing cellphone cuts off whatever else Shirokawa intends to say, and Kyouya takes a step back with an apologeptic smile.
"Please excuse me," he says before taking the call.
"I don't like him," says Hunny, and the rest of the host club members (minus Kyouya, who is, once again, absent), "He feels weird."
"And wasn't there some story about him telling some wild tale in class recently?" asks Hikaru, lazily draped over one of the arm chairs in the music room, "I heard it from one of our customers yesterday. Apparently he sometimes sprouts total rubbish without even noticing it."
"Well, I don't know him very well, but I can't say I found him likeable either," Haruhi adds, "But I wonder why Kyouya-senpai puts up with him. From what I can see he doesn't enjoy Shirokawa-senpai's company very much."
"Ah, well," Tamaki turns from his perch on the window still (he has taken up brooding with renewed ferocity lately), "This is … well, …"
"Shirokawa's father runs a successful pharmaceutical company," Kaoru chimes in.
"Exactly. And a friendship might be beneficial…" says Tamaki, and sounds as if he is quoting somebody else.
There isn't much else anybody needs to say. Haruhi has heard enough about Ootori Yoshio's high expectations, and she is familiar enough with Kyouya's thought patterns to realize that the option of not befriending Shirokawa did simply not exist.
"Well, he's still one creepy weirdo," says Hikaru, "And I agree with Haruhi; I don't think Kyouya enjoys being dragged around by him too much."
"He doesn't," says Tamaki in a flat tone. And Haruhi realizes that Tamaki is a lot more concerned than the rest of them.
"Go ahead without me," Kyouya tells Tamaki after class the following Friday, "I may be late as well – just make certain you get on with the program as planned."
Tamaki raises an eyebrow, Kyouya waves a folded note at him and Tamaki smiles – to this day he is the only student who received enough invitations to secret meetings (confessions) to spend one entire day outside of class. A stern addressing of the issue however had led to a decrease in those invitations.
Then Tamaki hurries out of the room – and Kyouya's smile falls. The note in his hand is written by Shirokawa. Inviting him to meet him down in the cellar.
And already now Kyouya is fairly certain this particular meeting is going to be awkward.
Tamaki is surprised to find a sign stating club is cancelled today attached to the door of the third music room. Especially since the entire club is assembled, seated around a laptop.
"Isn't Kyo-chan with you?" Hunny-senpai inquires.
"No," Tamaki replies, "Why is the club…?"
"We did some snooping," says Hikaru, while Kaoru simultaneously corrects "We did some research."
"Maybe it's better if Kyouya-senpai isn't here for this part," Haruhi contemplates, "I mean, he needs to know, but…"
Tamaki is over at their makeshift conference table with few, wide steps. Carelessly he casts his school bag off into a corner, and drops down on the couch next to Kaoru. "What is going on?" he asks, not attempting to hide his unease.
"Well, you know how Haruhi and I sometimes try to makes sense of the club's finances?" Kaoru sets out, "And recently there was a steep increase in the sale of photo books and memorabilia. Especially those featuring Kyouya-senpai."
Kaoru looks rather uncomfortable, and Hunny sets his plate with half-eaten cake down. "So we traced the credit card used for those purchases," he explains without batting an eyelash, "And found out it belongs to Shirokawa."
The lack of honorific is telling, especially when used by Hunny. Haruhi feels a cold shudder run down her spine, while Tamaki has paled.
"Also, we managed to get a glimpse at some other records," Hikaru continues, "He was in treatment for psychological issues a number of times. And one of his teachers left a remark about him displaying obsessive behavior in class."
"It makes sense when you look at his backstory – the guy had a deal of bad luck early on, and of course that leaves some traces," says Kaoru, "But well, I don't think letting him obsess over Kyouya-senpai is helping, really."
"It isn't," Haruhi adds, with determination.
"Which is why we wanted to tell Kyou-chan, and then maybe find a way for Shirokawa to get help," Hunny explains cheerfully.
Tamaki's chest feels tight – the plan sounds as sound as most host club endeavors do, but he can see it working. There is something else in this that deeply disturbs him – he just can't quite put a finger on it yet.
"Where is Kyouya-senpai, anyway?" asks Haruhi.
"He got a confession," replies Tamaki, still trying to figure out what makes him feel so uneasy.
Hunny frowns. "But Tama-chan, you know that confessions like that are not allowed here anymore."
"Only somebody new wouldn't know about that rule," says Hikaru.
A split moment later they simultaneously reach the same conclusion.
"Oh, hell!"
tbc
If you have any thoughts, comments to share with me or found mistakes, please leave a review. ^_^
