Six Months Before Reunion
(Six Months Since the Last)
Time has granted Hikaru several means of confirming his twin's love for Kyoya Ootori. As much as he'd like to hear it from the man himself, he does not need Kaoru to admit what he's been up to in order to figure the situation out. Instead, he need only think back on the last several months, on the uncharacteristically drawn-in behavior Kaoru's been exhibiting. But no—it's characteristic of his brother, if not also rare.
Unfortunately, this also necessitates that Hikaru cautiously partake in whatever struggles that come during this torrential season where Kaoru is made to live without him.
To start, there is the burden that comes with being irrevocably linked with one of the two unpredictable lovers at hand. As if he could hide the important matters from his brother, Kaoru has inadvertently become Hikaru's primary resource in making a case against various charades of intimacy.
He knows by the inconsistency of Kyoya's presence in their everyday lives.
There are times when the shadow king may show up virtually anywhere that Hikaru and Kaoru maintain shared space—"Hello, Kyo-san. Will this be the day we set up a financial wing in the atelier?"—and the sense of ease that his presence brings near.
That's not to say there aren't instances of Kyoya's prolonged absence, where this loss of certain company seems to throw a slow bleeding gossamer over Kaoru's entire world.
Kaoru's silence on the matter leaves Hikaru left to guessing exactly what's happened, but never does he doubt that something has happened. As for who is responsible, well. That, Hikaru surmises, is anyone's guess.
More than anything, it's the change to Kaoru's demeanor as he feigns his way through normalcy that grates against Hikaru's nerves. It's an unattractive shade of gray; not quite dishonesty, as Kaoru has told no outright lies, though it's a bending of truth, no less. This concerted effort is painfully obvious to Hikaru, who has been left to grasp at this mess of straws all on his own.
"You're really not going to tell me, are you?" On par with the hurt is the sheer sense of utter disbelief.
"Hika." Kaoru keeps his hands busy as he speaks; pulling samples, rearranging drawers, comparing fabrics to accessories. Whatever keeps his head down and his hands from visibly shaking. "Drop it, please."
Months go by this way. The next time they speak directly of him is when Hikaru ducks into the atelier to find Kaoru sitting in a circle consisting of pins and scissors, swatches of fabric, and design books. It's a happy little mess if Hikaru's ever seen one, and he asks in one breath if Kyoya's measurements have changed at all since the last of the suits Kaoru made for him.
Four Months Before Reunion
(Eight Months Since the Last)
If the twins have held onto anything from their Ouran days, there's no questioning that Fujioka Haruhi is their loveliest item. The three have remained close since the inception of their days, and have for some time now enjoyed the privilege of all three residing in Tokyo for the first time in years. The frequency of their time spent together is equaled only by whatever closeness can be found between Takashi and Mitsukuni, who in sharing blood have a leg up on proximity, anyway.
They have, as Hitachiin are wont to do, held onto this person who they find so dear, with the sort of white-knuckled grip that can only be rivalled by the veracity one might show for a lover. Not only does Haruhi recognize the twins' devotion to their friendship, but she reciprocates it.
It's this closeness that provides Haruhi the kind of permission necessary to never hesitate when she has something legitimate and dire to say.
"Do you happen to know if Kaoru is done fucking things up with Kyoya yet?" A career in law has been good to Haruhi, not only building her in name and reputation as a relentless do-gooder, but also in sharpening her knack for seeing and speaking the truth when it's plainly in front of her.
Hikaru stares at her incredulously from across the café table at which they sit, the spring breeze ruffling his fringe as she looks him in the eye and steals wagashi from his plate.
Always a big brother first, Hikaru remains discreet, even with her. This doesn't prevent him from importuning Haruhi for details whilst taking a sip from her coffee, in kind.
Where should she start.
"How about being honest with himself?"
Kaoru's honest with himself, Hikaru says. Just not with everyone else. Admittedly, this is not much better.
"Why does it feel whenever I see him, the look on Kyoya's face is a direct response to however Kaoru's been behaving throughout the evening?"
To this, Hikaru's got nothing. He knows something is there, though Kaoru and Kyoya have been very careful about maintaining certain types of space in the midst of company. With plans and reputations ahead of them, it's the least each man can do, though amongst friends this façade is laughable, at best.
"I know you see how Kaoru's been miserable lately."
Hikaru gives her a slow nod. He's starting to lose track of exactly how long things have been like this. Once retrospect kicks in, more time adds up than anyone would be willing to admit. Dammit.
Haruhi sighs. She's got one card left to play, and really, all it amounts to is that someone will have aired the truth. Even if she isn't necessarily the right one to air it.
"Alright, here it is. I don't see him or Kyoya having a shot at the lives they truly want without each other being in it." She takes the facts one step further when she informs Hikaru that for well over a year now, Kyoya has done all he respectfully can to pursue Kaoru. In his own way.
It's unclear to Hika whether by stating this last line if Haruhi intends to make a certain point, or if she is just being cute. Probably both.
As it turns out, Kyoya's own way involves allowing Kaoru the space he needs to carry on his charade, occasionally keeping in touch just to see how he's doing and whether or not Kaoru has come to his senses.
For his part in this debacle, Kyoya has been courting an heiress whose power lies in name only. A pretty little thing, she's talented at empty banter, but hardly realizes the lack of depth to her own words. A society thing to the core, she sees Kyoya's gentle refusal to consummate their relationship as an extension of his gentlemanly ways.
On his more sordid of days, Kyoya is tempted to ask if a gentleman would allow his love to do him ache, while asking permission to simultaneously pain that love, in return.
Hikaru understands the implications behind Haruhi sharing as much as she has with that last statement; that while she'd love to enjoy Kyoya's direct company, that she more than likely received word of his goings-on from Tamaki, instead. But, her expression determines, that is a story for another day.
Time in itself is a commodity. How they choose to spend that time, and who with means a great deal these days. It also serves as impetus for what Tamaki likes to call a Mandatory Host Club meeting during the same weekend every year. Nearly a decade out of Ouran for the youngest of them, and with the exception of Kaoru missing the previous year, not one of them has missed a single reunion.
Haruhi finds no pleasure in turning this salty at the sound of Kaoru's name. It's because she loves him that she refuses to abide his allegedly selfless behavior—what she essentially believes to be an imposition on Kyoya.
A test.
Good intentions won't defend Kyoya's actions, either, Hika counters. Whatever he's waiting on had better be damn good, if he's spent this long obliging Kaoru and his games.
Together, they each let go of an epic sigh.
Here, no one is wrong, no one is right, but everyone is frustrated, and some of them are in pain. On this they agree.
With little left to say on the matter, Hikaru and Haruhi finish their dessert at an impasse.
Two Months Before Reunion
(Ten Months Since the Last)
There is little in life for which Hikaru has shame. Particularly as an adult, wherein he's learnt the value in adapting to his surroundings (read: people) while metering tongue and temper accordingly. As always, Hikaru means what he says, and says what he means. More often than not, his words remain unapologetically sharp, though these days he chooses those words cautiously enough to maintain pride in saying them.
It is par the course, then, when he takes intermission from a sold out recital the same way that he came: alone. With time at a premium, it's the closest he's getting to fresh air. Sidestepping through the crowds, he traipses from one end of the gilded lobby to the other, quickly realizing that he'd rather not get caught up in superficialities with one acquaintance or another. Really, all he came out for is to hear the already legendary Kousei Arima in person before the piano prodigy leaves the country again.
Alas. For all its size and grandeur, Tokyo Opera City has nothing on the influence of fate, and soon enough Hikaru finds himself toe-to-toe with none other than his old friend and veritable partner-in-crime, Ootori Kyoya.
Muscles fighting the urge to seize, Hikaru is wide-eyed as he accepts a shake of Kyoya's hand in greeting. He grips Hikaru's hand just on the other side of firm, just strong enough for Hikaru to ask himself what it must feel like to run into the mirror image of one's sometime-lover.
"Here alone, I see." There's a smile in Kyoya's voice, as he seems pleasantly unsurprised—nostalgic, even—to find Hikaru enjoying his own company in such a social, media-driven place.
Hikaru shrugs, one corner of his mouth raising in a playful smirk at being called out. He is but one of countless children of the upper echelons, after all. Who is going to pay attention to him?
"Kaoru's out of the country right now." Hikaru explains. "Haruhi's burning the midnight oil, and I'm pretty sure Ageha would fall asleep at this sort of thing."
"Indeed." Kyoya's laugh is warm and personable, and all Hikaru can think is that one could not receive any more sincere a response. Kyoya is so ingrained in his world, that the inflection behind a single word ensures he can attest to everyone Hikaru speaks of—right down to his baby sister. Were Hikaru to voice this sentiment, he's convinced Kyoya would point out in no uncertain terms that Ageha is a baby no more.
Indeed.
With each second that passes, Hikaru becomes increasingly aware of the woman holding gently onto Kyoya's arm. Her presence is almost a nuisance as he wishes to speak authentically with Kyoya some more. Traditional in her beauty, she addresses Hikaru with her smile and attention, only, and leaves all the talking to the men.
Kyoya introduces her as Nakamura Setsuko, and is content to leave the matter at that. She kowtows toward Hikaru politely, who waves the gesture off in what can only be described as genteel humility. It's the least he can do as Haruhi's voice echoes in his mind, and before Hikaru knows it the young woman's personal sentiments are running through his own head.
Gentleman. He decides to keep the meeting relevant, and carefully chooses his words.
"Arima-sensei's influence over music is powerful, yes?"
"Yes." Kyoya's voice trails off in answer, wise onto Hikaru's non sequitur. "He doesn't play as most critics would prefer him to play. Hijacking concertos and sonatas, as it were."
"Ah, but this is what I love about him." Genuine glee spreads across Hikaru's face, and for a moment the feeling is contagious—enough so that Setsuko-san decides to join in.
"Music comes with its own set of rules, is what they say." She shares. "Being a rogue musician is part of his appeal, though, I suppose. Not like Suoh-san, who plays piano beautifully while staying in those parameters."
"Yes, I suppose Tamaki does have a way with his keys."
At this, an unexpected trill fills the air as she laughs. "Suoh-san is a lucky man! But then, he's been your best friend for so many years, now. Since your father introduced you. Of course you'd call him by nothing more than his given name."
Her gaze is directed toward Hikaru while declaring this, as if expecting the two of them to share some sort of inside joke, or perhaps some desperate outreach for commiseration.
"Tell me, Hitachiin-san, how does my fiancé address you?"
Years have gone by since any of them have humored the notion of being one another's kohai or senpai. Haruhi had been the first to toss away titles in regard to each of her friends from the host club. They'd gone through too much, she'd decided. Intimacies and confidences alike had bound them tighter together than could be touched by their society's rules.
Save for private sentiments—of which there were plenty—it didn't take long for the rest of their circle to follow suit.
Hikaru lets a derisive laugh slip, though he gathers himself quickly. How does Kyoya address him? Well. In Hikaru's experience, there is a certain rigidity that runs through that man's blood that suggests he might keep pet names for one, but provides nicknames for exactly nobody.
None of this prevents Hikaru from playfully addressing him as Kyoya-kun in closer company, however—a sort of test, if not also a friendly tease on Mitsukuni's propensity for affectionate honorifics. It's just the kind of jack-assed sentiment years of fire-tried friendship have earned him. Miraculously, Kyoya has always allowed the nickname to slide.
"Ah, of course it's Hika-san for me. We've been friends for so long. Back in the day I harassed Kyoya-san so much he might have regarded me a mischievous little brother." He glances toward her briefly before directing his gaze toward their shoes. He can feel Kyoya's gaze settling on him, and he just barely manages to keep himself from nervously rubbing the back of his own neck.
The honorific tastes bitter against his lips, but what can either of them do?
Reprieve comes by way of gently flickering lights. Intermission is nearly over.
Throwing Kyoya a polite nod, Hikaru kowtows charitably for what he imagines to be the temporary woman on Kyoya's arm. If only one more time, he offers his friend a shake of the hand.
"It's good to catch up with you, Kyoya-san." Hikaru's words are sincere, if not somewhat misleading, as if he hadn't gotten a generous helping of information from Haruhi only a month ago. "We're only two months out from this year's reunion! I'll make sure Kaoru shows up this time. I know he regrets having missed out on the last one."
A raised eyebrow, restrained smile through pursed lips. "I'd appreciate that—Hika-san, thank you. Dare I say it, but it seems as though too much of our time has already wasted by."
Setsuko-san appears confused by the sudden change in tone, but a quick smile from her beau seems all it takes to smooth her concerns over. No breadth. Zero depth. Hikaru finds the little scene entirely too familiar and is infinitely glad to know Kaoru is single again.
"Right." He sniffs. "I'm off. Enjoy the rest of the recital."
Moving quickly for his seat, he nods in acknowledgment of Kyoya's departing words without turning around.
Hika-san. Man, if things go his way, Hikaru's never going to live that one down. Oh well. It is what it is.
Kaoru should be home soon, no doubt carrying with him the best of his sketches and swatches from Spain. With some work, Hikaru imagines, things can finally start returning to normal. Maybe he should be the one to work abroad, next time. What, with so many of their friends beginning to settle back in Tokyo, Kaoru should do his part to see them, and stick around for a while. Perhaps a talk over tea and cakes with Mitsukuni would help him regain his bearings.
He thinks back to the first and second years of high school, to the formidable learning processes that occur outside of the classroom, and smiles. He's not naïve enough to imagine that life can revert back to feelings and dispositions that are years gone by, though neither is he cynical enough to think that fate didn't drop them all into each other's laps for a few Very Good Reasons.
But the universe can only do so much before one must start to take on their life's workload themselves. Or in Kaoru's case, thank-you-very-much, with the help of a voice of reason named Hikaru.
Having finally returned to his seat, Hikaru takes advantage of the time he has left before the curtain draws and the lights go down. Flipping through his list of contacts, he selects Mitsukuni's number and shoots off a text indicating the day Kaoru is set to arrive home, as well as his flight number.
Kismet.
.
.
Hello! I hope this story finds you well. Initially, I wrote With Guile with the intention of it being a oneshot. As is often the case, however, this started to evolve into something all its own. I loved writing it from Hikaru's perspective, and really have my friend Angelle to thank for that. She'd mentioned wondering how Hikaru felt about the relationship, and as soon as she brought that facet up, my mind just kind of took off with this from his point of view.
I adore Hikaru. I'm waiting for the day where I write him in his own world some more.
Aaand, before I forget... The recital that Hika and Kyoya are attending is for the piano prodigy Kousei Arima, who is the lead character of the brilliant manga/anime, Your Lie in April. If you're looking to get emotionally wrecked with some smile along the way, I highly recommend looking into it.
