Summary: An OHSHC AU! Business man Kyoya on the trip in NYC, reserves a table for himself in one of the best sushi bars in the city. Arriving to the restaurant by a short walk from his hotel, notices a young business attired Japanese woman, aged—probably about the same age as himself, placed directly in view of the eating customers. She's apparently intrigued by something and he's apparently intrigued with her.
The steady chatter and noises of one of America's infamous cities, the Grand ol' New York City. The eternal beauty of the land, the Statue of Liberty to the far left, proudly representing true patriotism reserved for the Americans of which they were renowned for. The bustling droves of people mixed with the new blood and sweat of awed tourists, gaping and shuttering pictures at one thing after another, in fear it would be their last visit to the iconic country or city. The native New Yorkers who knew the city by heart and vastly out maneuvered any typical person in directions to get to any place. This is the first real experience a foreigner feels when they step out of the comfort of their vehicle and submit themselves to either harsh and gorgeous beauty of the city.
Kyoya Ootori, foreign to the nightlife of NYC has his eyes darting from target to target, advertisements to pedestrians, vendor to street artist. A rite of passage for him to blend in as casually as possible under no detection, especially without any form security such as a bodyguard. There was no such thing as social ranks among the streets to the commoners, they all walked side by side as equals with a destination in mind, for all they knew they could've been walking by the president of the renowned fashion week held here or a homeless person struggling, but alive.
He strode casually as possible with the crowd, the street light turned red and the distinguishable symbol of a person walking, frozen in a bath of bright white light, counted down from fifteen seconds for everyone to pass. The place he had in mind was to eat in one of New York's best sushi restaurant as cliché as that sounded. Especially for native of the originated dish. It's notorious name, "Ichimura" with raving reviews and taste of the well off and wealthy. Extremely above commoner's weekly average paycheck, and outlandishly lavish to their simplicity.
Some might wonder in secret how a man with such power and wealth would understand the commoners' quirks and habits, his response would be simple just as the subject themselves.
Research and observations.
However, bits of his observants and deductions would be marked off as invaluable in his taste, even when knowledge was treasured amongst the intelligent and frugal. It wasn't useable by any means. It did not raise their family's stocks or power, therefore meaningless by default.
The side of the restaurant sign caught his lidded eyes hidden from the protection of his glasses. He was hungry despite his reluctance to admit it. He sighed in relief quietly, walking to meet the entrance but was caught walking at a slower speed when his eyes met a young japanese woman in business attire with short hair cut, almost resembling a male. She was frozen on one spot, in front of his destination. Eyes clearly drawn to something past the glass window. When he reached to the front of the establishment, he walked passed her in complete silence, catching a glimpse of what stole her attention.
"Ootoro?" He thought out loud, only to his ears, clearly befuddled by the woman's unwavering focus on a meager dish left unattended by the consumers as they were caught in riveting conversation as opposed to eating it. His hand reached the cool handle and entered the place unnoticed. Although, a chime of a bell on top of the door, did alert her a second too late. She watched with a bemused attention to the glasses clad man murmuring a single word to a server, in which turned into a guide ushering him to his table.
"Must be rich." She thought sadly, watching the new customer make a choice of his order. This was a place she heard about from Boston, the place where she lived for a couple of years in order to graduate from her law school. She wanted her first time trying out the mouth watering Ootoro to be the best in..at least in America.. But with the little money she had available from her last month's rent, coupled with the plane ticket she had already bought in order to go home to Japan, meant she was almost entirely broke.
If only a miracle could happen.
She sighed, looking back to the lavish man ordering.
Kyoya looked at the menu with ease knowing the dishes by heart, only using it as a mere device to catch a glimpse of whether or not the woman outside was still there. He glanced when she frayed her attention away, fortunately she was still in the same spot, looking hungry and glum, different from her previous expression of interest and curiosity.
It was completely unlike of him to be this taken about a woman he barely knew, but something was of interest to him. She was clearly Japanese by the muttering of certain syllables she hid under her breath. The way her lips moved as she looked wistfully at the food carefully prepared, and likely well educated by the briefcase accommodating her modern, professional outfit. The brunette posed no immediate striking qualities really, but she wasn't dismissing his attention either.
He erased the thoughts hastily, laughing under his breath of his own words. Kyoya obviously contradicted his first impressions with his own musings of her.
Why would she just stand in front of a restaurant anyways, watching others eat when she could very well come inside and purchase a meal. Strange.
"Maybe..l—no." He shot down the idea quickly, sighing at his inner crossfire between amusement and knowing what's unmannerly. Still, he couldn't stop what happened next when the server came to him, summoned by his own hand, pointing at the girl outside. The lawyer finally noticed the pointed finger in her direction, slightly stunned and frozen in distress and from being caught. 'What am I doing…'
"Oh no!" She hissed out in a faint whisper, facepalming at herself internally for being so unprofessional, and even more so for being caught like a crazy poor woman with nothing better to do than stare at food being served.
Though it did fit her situation quite well; not that she'd willingly admit to it.
Her shoulders sunk considerably, humiliated enough to just turn away and go back to the airport's hotel nearby with an empty stomach like she had originally planned, but at least with her dignity intact.
But out of her sight with her body turned ready to flee, someone tapped her shoulder. She twisted her neck around to see the person with an apologetic look. It was one of the waitresses from the restaurant. She almost grimaced, thinking of the worse.
'a banishment from ever coming within a hundred feet away from the place, to a misdemeanor for making a public disturbance to the customers—" her mind rambled.
"Umm..I apologize for my actions, if I made a mistake I won't come back-" Haruhi began to say, slightly flushed. Her foot was hot and ready to turn and run immediately.
"-No, no no! That's fine." She reassured the youthful woman, adding a smile. "That young man over there," the waitress pointed at the guy Haruhi was staring at before. "-told me to invite you in and to take a seat at his table."
'What does he want with me?' The edges of the waitress's lips turned upward into an easy smile as if to say, 'he seems like a nice gentleman with good intentions'. Haruhi fidgeted with the handle of her briefcase, thinking momentarily on whether to accept it and risk a dangerous and uncomfortable encounter with a possibly evil man. Or...return to the hotel, defeated and hungry, but safe.
Despite everything going against it, she unceremoniously nodded a reluctant 'yes'.
Immediately after Haruhi answered her question, she was guided in. Haruhi entered the place that was once impossible. They headed into the expensive looking room, the compartment with the red booths and to the mandarin red table of the mysterious man.
'Oh no.' she thought uneasily, growing anxious. 'I'm going to sit with a random stranger who brought me in for no reason, besides possibly spotting me stalking him ordering dinner.. what do I even say to him, say thank you, or question his intentions?'
The closer we got, the better Haruhi got to see his appearance. He was noticeably taller despite sitting in a booth, hair smooth down and short while retaining the appearance of being soft, and matted black. He wore a white button down shirt without it being fully buttoned up to the collar, a black business jacket with pockets and a handkerchief slot. Very crafted, black Italian shoes with ankle socks and most noticeably, rimless glasses making his face unreadable. The man was attractive, she couldn't deny it. But why did he want me in here in the first place.. this is humiliating.
The waitress mumbled a few words to him in private, not that she was eavesdropping, besides the quiet chatter and reviews of the dining experience from all around prohibited her.
The employee bowed formally to the guests, a familiar Japanese custom that was relaxed in America and gestured me to sit across from the dark haired man in expensive clothing. Haruhi momentarily stiffened at the instructed action, before obeying wordlessly to her command, sitting right across. The server then wished them a good night, since it was no longer the afternoon quite surprisingly at least to Haruhi.
"Hi." she said trying to converse with him, ending up a little shaky with her voice. This was her first time speaking in Japanese to another person in a while, excluding her father's nightly calls. Then she tried searching for his eyes despite his stoic expression and shielding glasses, but to no avail.
"Hello." He said eloquently in their native tongue. "Have you found the thing you are adamantly searching for?" He officially responded. He spoke clear fluent Japanese and poised it as a question rather than the introduction she expected.
"Huh, what do you mean?" Haruhi asked honestly confused, a finger wedged on the outside of her cheek between her jaw and vast soft flesh of her cheek. Just as he opened his mouth to speak she had already made the mistake to interrupt him in mid sentence. "—you mean eye contact?"
"Not exactly. " he answered in an even tone, playing with a single chopstick stuck between his index finger and thumb.
"You were absorbed with an object or should I say plurally, objects, which I didn't understand. Coupled with the fact that you didn't bother to enter the restaurant." He directed his attention to my briefcase and outfit. "You are a lawyer, correct?"
She gave a slight nod, folding her hands together from the level of profession he denounced from quick observations. Where was he going with this. Should she be giving this information so carelessly? He wasn't her client and she didn't have any background information to pull out. Although, this could very well be an opportunity to gain one.
"The salary of a lawyer should be big enough to eat in a fine place such as this without confining restrictions. Or so I would hope so if you've spent years to graduate with the title."
'Ohhhh..' she was relieved and slightly insulted.
"I should explain then." She half-laughed relieved by his concern. "I went to abroad to Boston to study. I stayed in America for four years in a dorm, alone. Traveling back and forth during the summers. I have an internship at a firm but I'm not full fledged lawyer just yet, and the paychecks I earn is to pay for rent, utilities, groceries, and my father sometimes—including my plane ticket today that I needed to buy because I'm now finished in America."
"Ah, I see. You're going to Japan tonight then." He stated the obvious, still unreadable.
"Yes and finally back home to see my dad." Haruhi sighed wistfully, shutting her eyes, feeling relief wash over at the thought of her childhood home. But that drastically faded away when she realized what he meant with his initial question about her salary.
Her head hung low; a reflection of feeling the effects of my current financial state. "Basically, i'm broke until I arrive at Japan.. or at least until the flight," 'but I remember being motion sick on the way here and sleeping made it better."
"-and I didn't get to eat here."
He gave a look of acknowledgement even though it was brief and concealed.
"Now the reason I'm in New York City," He spoke up, her eyes affixed on him, "is because I booked my flight not too far from here and the given curiosity of the city." He drawled, a bit more relaxed in his seat now more acquainted to her. "There's a chance we might be on the same flight tonight, based on gathered information."
"Really?" She blinked while the man in tonal colors, reached for his cool glass of water.
"Yes." He swallowed with ease. Setting down the glass on the table soundlessly. "But i'd be in first class."
Without noticing, the same waitress that assisted them from before arrived to their table with assorted tray, setting their table up with bountiful amounts of sushi and sashimi from fresh salmon, fatty tuna, to mackerel and cooked shrimp. Also accompanied by the traditional known side dishes such as wasabi, soy sauce, pickled ginger, pickled daikon radish, and steaming miso soup. Haruhi was wide eyed by the gorgeous plates and by their presentation. The eye-pleasing food she once researched about was in her face, wafting with scents of the ocean into her senses. It all looked undeniably delicious but pricey.
"Enjoy the food." The waitress thanked the customers with the appropriate bow, before leaving.
'Now this is uncomfortable,' she agreed to herself, rubbing her hands up and down the sides of her arms. She wasn't allowed to touch the food nonetheless consume it. It was tantalizing. Maybe watching it through the window was for the better option for her than she originally thought. She looked up from her lap, observing him as he scanned the bountiful options on the wooden platter before selecting her most salivated favorite.
"Do you plan to observe the entire restaurant until you leave for your flight." He asked idly, popping the irresistible ootoro in his mouth with his callous motions.
"No." She felt blood burn her cheeks in denial. "I was just about to leave to my hotel."
"Well since I brought you in here, you can eat what's on this table. It will be free of charge." He muttered while looking at her, plucking another piece of sushi.
"Really? Eat with you?" Haruhi repeated, making sure it wasn't her imagination or a ruse. Honestly.. he seemed sketchy in a money shark type of way, like an approaching lion.
While her mind was wrapped in disbelief, she let those words seep through her mind as she grabbed a pair of chopsticks slowly.
He nodded in affirmation in a nonchalant way.
After of moment of hesitation, Kyoya broke the silence.
"Pardon me, but what is your name?" He asked, focusing on snatching another piece of ootoro on the plate.
'My name..' She pondered for a second, slightly displeased when she saw him chew one of the five remaining pieces of ootoro. "Haruhi Fujioka." Giving an assured nod.
"Kyoya Ootori."
He gazed at her, slowly tilting his head when he observed her eat the piece of fatty tuna with unrivaled content and satisfaction. Something that puzzled him. No other person of significance in his life had ever shown such pleasure from something so trivial as ootoro, except perhaps his sister. She didn't even react to his surname. Maybe.. it was only foreign to him because he never let any commoner with essentially no merit, enter his life so willingly and reward him with intrigue.
'Haruhi.' He tested in his thoughts, plucking each syllable out.
"Well it's very nice to meet you Kyoya." She stuck her hand out, he shifted his gaze, eying her hand for a moment before accepting it.
"I find it interesting you go for the fatty tuna over anything else. Is it your favorite?" He said idly.
"Huh? Oh yeah.." She blushed temporarily in embarrassment, "there's a short story to that."
She watched him become silent yet again, however this time with more anticipation, as if Kyoya was patiently waiting for her to continue. So she did.
"I've never actually had the real ootoro before, but I find tuna sashimi to be very delicious. So when I was little, I vowed to try it once in my life. No matter what and the best kind."
"That's a gamble, since not everyone has the luxury to ever try such a lavish dish with high quality. Not that it matters anymore, considering you already enjoyed a piece." He fixed his glasses closer to the bridge of his nose, moving his attention back to his plate.
"I guess so." She thought briefly, taking a sip of the miso.
After the two devoured about more than half of the contents from the table, both were more laxed to even maybe start conversing. Haruhi continued to eat, while Kyoya looked far to content to consume furthermore. Haruhi wasn't going to let all of the remaining food go to waste, even if she would regret it on the way home.
"Kyoya-sama," she called out with the added formalities, not really paying much attention to the wealthy man in black and white attire but rather her next selection of food.
"Now that you have asked about my occupation. What about yours?"
He was quiet, quickly analyzing what possibly would happen if he let out such information. She wasn't threatening to say the least but it just didn't feel the opportune moment to reveal his entire identity just yet. Any person with significant knowledge of the rich and powerful in Japan would have immediately known the name of his family, even the waitress recognized, but apparently not this woman. It was quite amusing for someone to be naive and shiny to cause such a ruckus inside his mind. He'd hold back some truth in his answer.
"I'm a general practitioner in family health, or in other words a doctor." He rested his chin on his palm which acted as a stand. "There was a doctor's convention held here moments ago." It was a lie.
"Ah, then that explains your wealth." Haruhi's eyes fluttering between plate and his eyes, obviously in a ceasefire for attention. Kyoya's mouth twitched upwards.
"Does that imply lawyers struggle in their weight of profit, because it sounds like a terrible payout on your behalf."
"No, it just has it's ups and downs for a rookie like me." She sighed exasperatedly. "I need more clients."
"What's your rate of winning these cases."
"I haven't lost a single case yet and I've done seven."
"Well that's good. Maybe I can help advertise your services in my office in Japan." He offered cleanly.
"Really?" Haruhi lifted her head asking again to be certain, looking perplexed from the abrupt offer.
"Of course, if you lend me some help, free of charge." He pushed his glasses up.
"I don't know.. not to be rude but.. how popular and trusted is your medical practice Kyoya-sama?"
"I would say, very known and highly reputable." He vaguely estimated. The Ootoris' were ranked high in competition in the medical field with standing ovations throughout the country. She would most likely have health insurance under their name if she'd check.
"I'll have to sleep on it before I can give you a sound answer." She started to rummage through her purse, looking for something it would seem, something rectangular hid in her palm.
"You can have my card." She offered, showing and giving a card with her contact information. He glanced at it quickly then slipped it in his pocket discreetly.
With their surprisingly empty table, he looked around the room, the population of the restaurant at its lowest he'd seen it to be and the night staff wiping off the dirty, empty tables left from previous customers.
He coughed purposely, capturing her attention. "It looks like closing time is approaching. We should about end our dinner now."
"Of course! Thank you so much Kyoya for the dinner." She smiled sheepishly, beginning to stand up.
"No problem."
'I expect this dinner to be paid off in the future.' He smiled with fake innocence.
They both shook their hands together as a final farewell, a firm but wistful gesture for two new acquaintances.
"This is goodbye then, it was nice meeting you Kyoya-sama."
He grunted in response, looking away, assuring her the favor was returned. After Kyoya paid the waitress handsomely, they both walked out together in silence, the air not heavy nor damp but pleasant. He stopped right in front of the sidewalk, Haruhi looking up to meet his face.
"We'll part ways here, my hotel is a several miles away so I'll hail a cab." Kyoya piped.
"Oh." She said with an understanding tone. "Okay then, thank you again for letting me eat for free.. And I had a nice time talking to you." She smiled again, second time stirring something deep inside him.
"It was nice to meet you Haruhi." He searched in himself to bare a smile because he felt she deserved one and it did, surprisingly quickly. "Farewell." Kyoya said, looking at her face one last time. The brunette woman significantly shorter than him, gave an easy smile, giving Kyoya a firm nod.
The dark haired, shadowy man stepped into the cab he managed to hail, and muttered the destination to his hotel before the driver drove away into the city's busy streets. He only stole one glance at the central mirror's reflection of her as they drove further away into the heavy roads of NYC.
Haruhi watched until the car disappeared from her sights before walking away to the nearby airport and its accommodating hotel at the opposite direction.
The glasses clad young man stepped inside his room, rejoicing in his privacy with a tired sigh before collapsing on the nearest chair. A horrible, stiff and sturdy deep ember wooden chair with a threaded thin red cushion that didn't please his sore body at all. Kyoya stretched his long legs out before slipping his shoes off as well as his tie and suit. As soon as he shrugged off his white dress shirt, he replaced it with a new grey tee-shirt, as well as exchanging his pants for a pair of shorts.
He dragged his body over to the bed, with his cell phone at hand, plopped on the serene cushion on the white bed. He relished the wonderful feel of the soft material balancing him on top of. Kyoya never made a tradition of enjoying the mediocrity of hotels. But this particular day, weighed in his tiredness by double the amount—and it sure gave Kyoya relief he needed.
Kyoya rolled over, facing the ceiling, slowly inhaling and exhaling, and removed his glasses from his face with a rub before he checked to read the messages on his phone. He scanned over all his unread emails as part of routine, his texts from his best friend and friends, and lastly, looked over his stocks including the stock market. His emails were nothing out of the ordinary, all resolvable once he returned to Japan. Tamaki and the others could stick a couple of days without his supervision if it meant less interference from his short vacation. Stocks fared average as usual and some did better than the rest. Kyoya could sleep well tonight. Yet Kyoya was left wondering.
When would he have another interesting run in with someone refreshing as her. Someone intelligent, simple like the woman he'd met outside the restaurant. Fascinated by food and easy to talk to, instead of idle, high strung chit chat with some people. Not high maintenance unlike many of his friends and acquaintances were, who depleted his energy rather oftenly. However, he wasn't one to complain, challenges were always accepted of course, but as expected as they were, Kyoya still felt exhausted afterwards and.. lacking. Kyoya innately wanted someone to speak freely to. No formalities.
Companionship wasn't one of his strong desire in his lists of importance but they'd risen in certain situations that felt out of his control. Unexpected dinners or parties when he's expected to bring a date and left him asking one of the many girls eager to get closer to him.
His father for months, had been urging him to take the initiative and dabble in finding a potential spouse, but they ended as quickly as they were found. Boring, pampered, squeamish, loud or on the opposite spectrum— just never the compatible match Kyoya sought in a romantic partner.
But more importantly, they were full of merit with their rich family backgrounds, none failing to benefit the Ootori name. Even as dreadfully lackluster as they were to his perception. What could he do..?
(This is my first ever published story, so what do you think? Should I continue or leave it on a mysterious note. Either way I hope you enjoyed my first publishing on this site and we shall see what I plan to do with this. It does take my time up to write these chapters, so please be patient with me. Thank you for reading and please review what you can offer. --BumblingHare)
