A/N: Short lil chapter, centered around contemplation. For those who only watched the anime, some references to the past might be new to you, but I promised they happened in the manga! I have the next chp written; I'll get it up tomorrow! Please review :D (For future reference, I'm liable to change the name of the story if something strikes me as fitting better; this was kind of a random title. Be forewarned!)

Kyoya didn't know when he realized he was different.

Probably it had been when middle school started, and he saw that his typical, charming demeanor (done not for the sake of being charming, but for the benefits of acting as such) started to send girls into flurries of giggles and blushing. Girls, but not boys.

It wasn't that he wanted to win over boys any more than he wanted to win over girls. In fact, he found himself interested in them about equally. It was just that girls were so easily won over in comparison. There weren't enough fingers on the hands of all of the Ootori servants to count the number of girls he could have in the palm of his hand, but boys were a different matter.

Quickly, he had put that thought out of his head. He was already the third son, struggling for a shot at glory. He wasn't going to be the third son and the gay son (never mind the fact that he didn't think he was gay at all; if it ever came out that he found himself the least bit interested in boys, that's what he would become in his father's eyes).

He didn't find it hard to come to peace with the repression. Liking boys just wasn't logical, when you put your mind to it. There would be no heirs that way, and people would respect him less.

He had also found out that it was easier to put them out of his mind if he also put girls out of his mind, which was probably what led to the stilted tolerance for touch that the twins had stumbled upon. Kyoya knew very well that if you didn't put a plant in a bigger pot, or a goldfish in a bigger bowl, it would cease to grow. That had been fine by him. He still had the superficial charms needed to be a successful host, and any engagement in feelings beyond that were unnecessary.

But were they? He didn't want to admit it to himself, but his resolve had faltered when the twins had called him out. Hikaru's words were meant as a taunt – only in front of customers? – but they hadn't felt that way to Kyoya. Why had he allowed himself to use that phrasing? Everyone knew that he was meticulous about detail, and that every word that fell from his lips was measured forward and backwards an endless amount of times, in order to assess every repercussion that could result from it.

Was it negligence on his part? Was it something else?

No, he told himself as he rose sluggishly the next morning, having spent all night thinking himself to exhaustion. It wasn't something else. It was the club's first day back. There was bound to be some kinks to work out.

He sat up in bed and blinked. For a moment, he saw Kaoru splayed across his bed, waiting for him to wake up. It wasn't a fantasy, but a memory. He'd immediately demanded food, and then followed Kyoya to get changed. Kyoya had revealed to him a secret plan and desire that he hadn't revealed to anyone before, not even Tamaki. Kaoru had looked at him with a wide-eyed, strangely contemplative stare, and then he'd told him that for the first time, he thought Kyoya was cute.

Kyoya's heart had missed a beat then, too. It had been the first time a boy had said anything like that to him. That night, when he closed his eyes, he relived the moment endlessly. He had opened his eyes into the darkness, and for a forbidden moment that he never would have allowed himself in the light of day, he wished Kaoru were laying beside him again, right then.

Now, Kyoya heaved a great sigh and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "That's enough," he told himself sternly as he stood and walked to the window. This side of his bedroom looked out over the long driveway that led to the Ootori mansion. His brothers had wanted rooms at the back of the house, which looked out over the sprawling gardens, but Kyoya preferred to see who was coming and going in the front.

Sure enough, there was movement out front, where the driveway circled past the front door. He saw a conspicuous auburn head leaning out of one of the windows. Swiftly, he reached for his glasses and slid them on.

Hikaru. But if that idiot was here, so was Kaoru. He had his uniform on, so they were likely here to try to connive Kyoya into riding with them. "Tachibana," Kyoya said, opening up his phone and dialing the faithful man. "What are those two idiots doing in the driveway?"

"They're requesting that you ride with them to Ouran, Master Kyoya. Shall I politely request their departure?"

Kyoya paused, and then moved toward his bathroom to wash his face, already picking up the clean and classic clothes he wore to his university classes. "No, Tachibana, thank you. I'll be down in ten minutes. Ring the kitchen staff and tell them to have my usual to-go breakfast ready for me at the door."

"Certainly, Master Kyoya." Kyoya tossed his phone into his shoulder bag, and quickly paced into the bathroom, where he braced his hands on the sink and looked into the mirror. Dark hair, flint colored eyes, skin as pale and unmarred as whole milk. He saw a collection of features when he looked at himself. How then, when he looked at or thought about Kaoru, did he see so much more?