Happiness

Kouya and Nami

He was miserable, lonely and at a downtown bar. The concern over being seen by one of the many Ootori eyes-for-hire was surpassed by the feeling of complete and utter failure. The drive to exceed his brothers had been the fuel that carried him this far and he was surprised to find the fuel had run out. He hated the business world and medical field. It was stifling, rigid. If he wanted to carry on with that life plan, he would have better luck enlisting in the military.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Kyouya directed his slightly fuzzy focus from his glass to the bartender. "Excuse me?"

"It's an American saying. It means 'what are you thinking about?'" The cheeky woman spun a clear bottle expertly in her free hand while serving up some fruity concoction to a raucous University girl that had been eying him all night. The girl took the opportunity to bump against him as she took her drink before being swallowed up by her group of equally drunk, giggling friends.

"Do you want her number?"

"How do you know her number?"

The bartender held up a napkin with a number scribbled on it. "I have a whole stack of them here if she doesn't tickle your fancy."

It was the Host Club all over again. Not that he had disliked being part of the Host Club but it was something he did as a high schooler. He was a man now and it was time to put aside juvenile indulgences. But that didn't mean he would miss it. Quite the contrary. "Throw them out."

"Even this one?"

"What's special about that one?"

She laid it on the bar next to his glass. "It's mine."

He looked at the number while she served up four more drinks, the numbers burning themselves into his memory. She greeted regulars with inside jokes and sharp wit. Her posture was perfect, elegant even, despite the fact she was wearing low riding jeans, a punk belt and a t-shirt with the name of a band he didn't recognize. She had various rings and studs in her ears and spiked black hair. Her social ease and unflappable manner reminded him of Haruhi. "What's your name?"

She meandered back down to where he was sitting. "Nami. Nami Tsukiono."

"Kyouya-"

"I know who you are." She tilted her head towards the end of the bar. "Some of your family's employees were talking about you."

Wonderful. No doubt he would be getting a scathing call from his father tomorrow. Well, why not make it worth it. "When do you get off work?"

***

He only had to wait for an hour more until she clocked out at the bar and lead the way to what she deemed was "the best diner in Tokyo." Seeing her in the harsh florescent light, he was surprised she actually looked much younger than he had assumed. She was also quieter, less cocky, than he expected.

"I don't want to keep you out past your bedtime," she said when they sat down for coffee.

"What does that mean?"

She looked directly over his shoulder. He followed her gaze and saw a couple of men from the bar had followed them down to the diner.

"Are they your bodyguards?"

"Hardly," he muttered.

"I see," she nodded, "they're nosy."

"Yes."

To his surprise, she stood up beside the booth they had occupied and addressed them from across the diner. "Excuse me, sirs. Please, feel free to call Mr. Ootori and tell him his son has decided to slum it for the night. You may take your leave."

Amazingly enough, Kyouya watched both men, unnerved by Nami's outspokenness, make a quick break for the door as Nami returned to her seat. "My father will hate you."

"Is that why you asked me out?"

The question brought him up short. Why did he ask her out? He never did anything without having a concrete reason for doing it. So what was his reasoning behind having a cup of coffee at one in the morning with a punky bartender? Nami was sporting a frown now.

"If that's why, I do have more important things-"

"You reminded me of a friend."

The frown lessened slightly. "Was she a girlfriend?"

"No," Kyouya pushed his glasses up, "nothing like that. She was just...a unique person."

"You miss her?"

"More than I thought."

"Where is she now?"

"She married another one of my friends. She's in law school right now."

Nami dumped three sugar packets into her coffee. "She sounds pretty special."

"She is. All my friends from high school were very special." Before he knew what he was doing, he was regaling Nami with stories of the Host Club and all the misadventures that ensued. Three cups of coffee later, the sun was starting to peek through the skyscrapers of downtown Tokyo and Kyouya had only covered the first year of the Host Club antics. Nami's frown had disappeared little by little through the course of the stories, but it was the story of the twin's first fight that had her in stitches. His throat was scratchy, unaccustomed to speaking for so long. He felt lighter than he had in a long time.

"I hate to say this but I have to go to class," Nami said.

Kyouya almost smacked himself in the forehead. "I don't even know what you're studying. I spent the entire time talking about myself."

"No, not yourself," Nami smiled, "your friends. And you can tell a lot about a person by their friends. It sounds like you are a very nice guy. Unhappy, but nice." She stood up and grabbed her messenger bag, slinging it over her shoulder. "And I'm studying journalism."

"Wait-"

"I'll be working again tonight," she answered and was gone.

Kyouya sat there for a few minutes, digesting what she said to him. She saw right through him, all the masks he tried to present to the world. She saw the bottom line in him: unhappiness.

***

He didn't take into consideration the next night was Friday. The bar was filled with University students, drinking and dancing. He counted six times someone groped him on his way to the bar. Nami was there, as she had said, spinning bottles in both hands and sliding drinks down the bar with her elbows. The crowd loved her and Kyouya felt like calling Tamaki so he could join in the fun spirited atmosphere. He never thought he would see the day that Tamaki needed some cheering up but he found out that when things change so do people. Things started to slow somewhat and Nami slid a whiskey down to him.

"On the house."

"Why is that?" he asked, wrapping a hand around the cool glass.

"For the coffee this morning. I realized I ran out on the bill."

"I asked you out. The bill my responsibility."

Nami made a face but with the dim lighting it was hard to tell what her expression really was. "Tell me, Kyouya, what are your other responsibilities?"

He watched her flip and spin more bottles, shake cocktails with one hand and drop olives on toothpicks in martini glasses while he thought about his answer. Nami started speaking again before he had a chance to answer.

"The question shouldn't be thought about this long. What do you hold yourself responsible for?"

"Succeeding."

She gave him a half smile. "Succeeding at what?"

"Business...life."

"Your family is already successful in those things. What else do you want to succeed in?"

Surpass his brothers in the business...that was his only goal for as long as he could remember. "What else is there?"

She twirled another bottle absently in her hand. "What about personal responsibility?"

Personal responsibility? He hadn't thought about that. "I wasn't exactly raised in a family that put value on personal things."

"I've noticed." She regarded him for a moment before setting the bottle of alcohol down. "This may sound very forward, so I won't be offended if you say no. I have to go visit my aunt this weekend at her beach house in Ito. I would like it if you would come."

He was suppose to go fund raiser for one of the medical companies but a day at the beach sounded much more interesting, especially since he had sit through an hour long "chat" with his father over the phone about his behavior last night. He was certain more talk would come at the fund raiser. "I would love to go to Ito with you."

***

He almost didn't recognize the girl who picked him up the next morning. Gone were the earrings, punk clothes, spiked hair and they were replaced with a skirt, sandals and nice shirt. She looked like one of the many girls that his father paraded in front him: fashionable, respectable...beautiful. Apparently, he'd been staring.

"You do realize," she said, "you have to actually be in the car to get to the beach."

And then she opens her mouth and speaks. Kyouya pushed back a smile and got into her car, not a rusty death trap he imagined but a rather well-equipped mid-sized sedan.. "Why the change in appearance?"

"Contrary to what you may think, I actually prefer to look like this instead of how I dress at the bar."

"Then why do you do it? Where is your sense of personal responsibility?"

She laughed. "My job at the bar is only part time and only until I graduate. I've found that people respond better when you tend to fit in with the crowd. It's about being approachable. Also, I figured you would talk more openly to me if I looked like this."

"You should be a business major."

"No, too stuffy. I'm actually finding journalism isn't my forte either. Apparently I have too many 'creative muscles' as my teacher says."

"You said your last name was Tsukiono. Are you related to the Tsukiono's that are involved in politics?"

Her smile turned wry. "Actually, yes I am. My whole life has been in the tabloids. I'm the only female Tsukiono not to be educated at Lobelia."

"What happened, dare I ask?"

"Originally, I went there for about six months but I got kicked out for getting into an argument, punching one of my teachers and refusing to apologize. Funny enough, I applied at Ouran Academy but they wouldn't take me either, not with that disrespectful mark on my record. So I ended up going to Ouran High School."

"You commoner, you."

She laughed, though Kyouya had said it more as an inside joke for himself. It was the first time he felt almost light hearted. Almost.

***

Nami's Aunt Mika, her mother's sister, was just as independently minded as Nami. The woman never married, was a local school teacher in Ito and lived in a modest home that sat on the beach. She was alone and very content. He could see why Nami loved her Aunt so much as well as spending time in her home. Not being able to relax was virtually impossible. They had spent the day walking along the beach, having dinner with her aunt on the patio that faced the surf and ended up sitting out there until the stars came out. He had forgotten what is was like to enjoy a day. It was long after the sun had gone down when Nami asked such a direct question it knocked the air from his lungs.

"Kyouya, why are you so unhappy?"

He was about to deny her inquiry, but realized he would be lying. He had just spent a day without books, study and academic pressure and was happier than he had been since leaving Ouran. Perhaps the path his brothers took was not the path for him. It wasn't the first time he had that thought but it was the first time he gave it any serious consideration.

"My mother died when I was twelve," Nami continued, a very serious tone that was different from her flippant banter throughout the day. "She committed suicide. I was the one who found her."

"I don't remember ever hearing about that in the news."

"No, they reported to the press that she suddenly became ill. But that was the beginning of a change in me. My mother wanted to be a concert cellist but my father forbade it. Her place was in the home or on his arm. I didn't realize it but I watched my mother shrivel and shut down. Before I knew it, it was too late and she was gone.

"That's why I got kicked out of Lobelia. My teacher told me I asked too many questions, that the things I was concerned about wouldn't be a problem when I got married since my husband would handle everything. I dared to disagree. I didn't want to give up my dreams and personal integrity for the sake of social standing. My life is worth than that and so is yours, Kyouya."

"What do you mean?"

"My mother noticed you at a couple different parties. You were always standing behind your brothers, hearing your father speak about their accomplishments and how you were going to surpass them. She felt sorry for you."

Kyouya racked his memory for any remembrance of Nami's mother. And then it came to him. "Your mother played the cello at one of the medical building openings."

Nami smiled. "The only time my father allowed her to play in public. When I saw you come into the bar that night, you reminded me of my mother, slowly closing in on yourself. Promise me," she reached out and grabbed his hands, "find what makes you happy."

The moment her hands made contact with his, it felt like an electrical currant went through his body. It took a moment for his hearing to come back and when it did, Nami was staring at his expectantly. "I promise." As soon as he said the words, it felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest and breathing suddenly became easier.

The conversation shifted back to less serious subjects but after Nami yawned for the fifth time, she excused herself and went to bed. Kyouya stayed up, however, watching the silver toned waves crash along the beach. His mind was too busy thinking about all the possibilities that lay before him now. Perhaps when he returned to Tokyo he would dig out his paints and canvas again.

***

Six months later...

"Nami! Nami, come here!"

Nami roused herself from sleep. She has picked up a late shift at the bar to cover for a friend of hers whose mother was sick. She blearily looked at the clock next to her bed and realized she had only slept for three hours before her roommate came pounded on her door. Oh no, wait, she was now jumping on her bed.

"Nami, you've got to come see this! Come on!"

With a groan, Nami stumbled out of bed and drug herself into the living room. Yui, her roommate, was dancing around an object that was covered with a sheet. "What is it?"

"It's for you! It was propped up against the front door this morning!"

Rubbing her tired eyes, Nami saw her name printed neatly on the corner of the covering. She pulled the sheet off the object and was surprised to see a painting of the sea underneath it.

"Ohh," Yui was saying, "that's so pretty. Where is it?"

"That's...my aunt's house in Ito."

"And who's the girl in the dress asleep in the hammock?"

"That's me."

Yui looked like someone slapped her. "I didn't know you owned a skirt."

Nami ran her fingers over the initials in the corner of the painting and couldn't help but smile. K.O.... Kyouya.

"You need to turn the picture around."

Nami did as she was told and found, hanging on the screw eye that secured the picture wire, a diamond ring.