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He finally decided. Tamaki is insane. Or at the very least, part-way. There were some days when he barely made sense because he simply kept rambling about things that seemed to transcend randomness. Laughing and squealing to the point where tears would stream down his cheeks and he'd double over clutching his sides, in the middle of the walk. There were also days when he made even less sense because how in the nine circles of hell could someone usually so idiotic suddenly have his I.Q skyrocket past Einstein capability that even the teachers could barely keep up with the speed of his calculations nor the near absurd complexity of his formulas. He'd explain every line of Shakespeare, Wolfe and Voltaire at first reading while prattling along the geography of Europe as if it was the ABCs. He was incomprehensible, unpredictable… interesting.
Tamaki would walk down the halls of Ouran. Girls (and the occasional boy) would let out a sigh and a blush at his every movement. They don't realize that Tamaki is, in actuality, as cruel and manipulative as himself. Tamaki is cruel because of how eagerly he invites all the customers in, showering them with praises, locking them in with his intense violent gaze. He lulls you into his world, welcoming you with words that instill feelings of adoration, confidence… false hopes. The world is his stage and in his world he is the only lead actor. Both you and he know full well that neither you nor anyone else for that matter, can share in that proverbial spotlight of his. Tamaki is the epitome of the sun. Comforting, warm, inspiring… but get too close and you'll only get burnt.
Kyouya sighed and closed his eyes in frustration as Tamaki, for the third time that day, launches himself at the Ootori's back, yelling in that ludicrously happy voice of his, all his hare-brained ideas for the club and the occasional comment that 'mommy' would look good in either a dress, wig or some other article of female clothing. Every logical part in his body was screaming at him to push Tamaki off his back and walk out that cursed Third Music Room, forever leaving all the madness behind him. The mental picture of what his life would be like without the club tempts him so much that he does just that.
"Tamaki."
The tone is cold and flat, barely revealing a hint of emotion and yet the underlying ferocity seeped through and the whole club, stopped and stared at the Shadow King.
Tamaki looks at his friend, startled and he slowly removes his arms from Kyouya's shoulders, "Yes?"
Kyouya stands up, simultaneously clincking his laptop shut. He looks over his shoulder, letting his glasses slide to the lower bridge of his nose. Locking gazes with the blonde, he smirks sadistically as he recognizes the uncertainty and slight fear in Tamaki's face. Without another word, he picks up his laptop and walks out the door.
He simply had enough. Tamaki has to learn that he is not a necessity in Kyouya's life, nor in anyone's. He just a decoration, an add-on. He was a luxury in the Shadow King's life. A headache-inducing one for that matter, and kyouya has never been so glad as he was now to finally be free of that idiot.
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A/N: Whew! And that's first chapter! XD. I made this in the span of two subjects. Heh. Anyways, read and review please.