The Café

Author's Note: "Diet" is the legislature of Japan. And yes, I'm aware Pure is not a club in Tokyo, but work with me here.

To NaniKitsune (Chapter 2 review): Yes, I dared to use emoticons, only because he can be just as goofy sometimes. Remember Episode 8, the scene where Hani locks Haruhi and himself in the Ootori truck to scare her? The icon on the truck was a chibi face of Kyouya. I thought it was just random, too.

To Story Weaver (Chapter 2 review): Good to see you again. And you've always been good at guessing what's going to happen.

To Philyra: Ten imaginary points to you. Yes, it was Xanadu, because I'm crazy like that.

Chapter 4:

Being the third son meant great responsibilities. When Kyouya was twenty-one years old, he felt the responsibility put to the test.

He and his father were quietly eating at the dinner table when he called him. "Kyouya."

He looked up to his father.

"As my son, you have to keep pride and dignity to this family," Yoshio explained, "and part of that is who you associate with and what families we merge with."

Families? Merging? He anticipated the subject of marriage to come up eventually, but not now.

"Make sure you have December 31st through January 2nd available," he told his son. "You'll be spending New Years with the Rockfords."

The name clicked in Kyouya's head. Rockford? Claudia Rockford? The woman he met in America?

"I'm sure you'll make a fine impression on your future-in-laws."

Kyouya's eyes widened slightly.

So, that was it? It was already arranged without his consent? The fact that he was blind-sighted made him feel sick. When he was travelling back in August, meeting all those people, he merely assumed it was for networking. His father sure fooled him, mixing their affiliates' children up with daughters and sons. He never expected that he actually met his future bride within the crowd. And with Claudia, although beautiful and rich, did not seem someone he could be interested in.

Frankly, a bit of him began to dread his position as the obedient son, following his father's request.

It was always in the back of his mind, invading his conscience at inappropriate times.

For example, on his Friday afternoon.

He had only told Tamaki, who gave him genuine sympathetic tears, trying to console him, although Kyouya could not understand why.

But when Kyouya was sitting with Renge for tea, he finally understood. He actually was hesitant, dare he say, scared to tell her. And why? Over this year and some months spending time with her, he realized that she was just a simple girl who liked company. So, in essence, she was using him. Always calling him for company because he always answered his phone, always agreeing to go to places or excursions because she asked and he was willing to set arrangements… He was her tool, he realized a few months back. And because of that, he was scared to tell her because what if she didn't react? For the girl he was interested in to not show interest or a sense of distress because he was promised to someone else… It was a tight pulling pain up and down his torso. Maybe that's what a broken heart felt like?

Didn't he break Renge's heart when she was fifteen?

Damn, payback's a bitch.

"So, what are you doing for New Years?"

Kyouya glanced up at her.

"I was hoping we could spend midnight tog-."

"I'll be busy," he interrupted her.

Renge paused. "What are you doing? Spending time with your family?"

"Something like that," he said, eyes down to the table.

"Hm, with your father? Sister? Brothers?"

And for some reason, he wondered what if he told her. "Fiancee."

Renge blinked.

"And her family."

Suddenly, all the flatware jumped with a clatter as she violently rose to her feet. It startled Kyouya and he scooted back slightly. "What?" she burst, palms hitting the table.

He watched her face expressions change from surprise, anger, and then panic all within ten seconds. Kyouya opened his mouth to speak but she was out the door before he could call out for her.

Kyouya was very aware of his own shortcomings. Although he could analyze a person's strategy, he could not always analyze a person's emotions accurately.

He supposed that's why he and Tamaki were such close friends.

Tamaki sighed, using his cue stick as a long cane. "You poor, unfortunate soul…"

Kyouya narrowed his eyes.

"I know you didn't mean to, but that's the second time you broke that maiden's heart."

"She stormed off," Kyouya reasoned. "She looked mad, if anything."

"Was her head down when she was leaving?"

Kyouya glared at his friend from across the billiard table. As Tamaki poised in position, ready to strike the cue ball, Kyouya closed his eyes, trying to recollect the memory of Renge from yesterday. Dark pants. Sky blue sweater. White scarf. Bag in hand. Hair up in a ponytail. Head…

"Head down," Kyouya answered.

Tamaki's face seemed to soften for a moment and he pulled his arm back and shot, hitting the 9-ball in the corner pocket. "Women hold their heads up in strength, down in weakness. Usually, to hide their tears from the world."

The thought made Kyouya's breath pause. He made his rounds across the table, starting at the nearest pocket, pulling out balls while Tamaki started in the opposite direction. They circled, depositing balls onto the table until they met one another. Kyouya turned and leaned back, resting his weight against the edge of the billiard table. He held the cue stick in front of him, its base between his feet while staring at the blue and white tip.

Tamaki placed his palms forward on the edge of the table and watched the balls scatter about. "I think it's best if you wait. Wait for her heart to heal. And yours."

And for a while, Kyouya agreed. Time away from one another, to clear their heads did make sense. But when Friday rolled around, he was sitting in the café, waiting. He just had to be there; if he wasn't, well, it just didn't feel right.

But he waited and Renge didn't show up that week or the next. It was only three weeks after she stormed off when she walked through the door and sat in front of him without a word.

If she wants to pretend nothing happened, he would honor it. No matter how much that bothered him.

"So, how did you meet your fiancée?" she asked when her tea arrived.

"My father introduced me in August, during my trip to America," he explained. "It was only a few weeks ago when he explained our situation."

"Your father?" her eyes were cast down to her tea and she began her stirring ritual.

"Yes," he confirmed. A small voice called out to her, hoping, screaming 'It's not my fault', but his mouth remained tightly shut.

The next week, she did not appear.

To him, Claudia Rockford was a typical high-class American girl. Born in the Hamptons, she grew up with all the luxuries medicine and politics could afford. She was beautiful, educated, and well-mannered.

So… why did he find her frightfully dull?

He stepped back from his microscope so he could draw his view into his notebook. He made sure to draw the unicellular creature's tail to correct proportions.

"So, how's America during New Years?" his lab partner asked.

"Well, Ando-san, it's similar to here, with large parties and fireworks." Kyouya made sure to smile pleasantly, reminding himself that the only reason he was talking to this fool was because his father was a chair person for the Diet.

"I hear one of the traditions is to kiss as soon as it's midnight."

Kyouya nodded, "Yes, I do recall that occurring while I was there."

"Oh-ho, a little kiss from your American girlfriend…"

Kyouya looked back into his microscope, a smile on his face. Man, this guy was annoying.

"So," Ando spoke from across the workbench. "A bunch of us in lab are going out to Pure tonight. You should come."

"Thank you for the offer," Kyouya indirectly refused, eyes still to the lens.

"Come on, Ootori-kun! The semester's almost over, relax!" Ando encouraged.

Kyouya spotted a unicellular creature with tiny hairs all around its body. He began to quickly sketch. "I'm sorry, but clubs aren't my preference."

"You're missing out. Even your friend Houshakuji lets loose."

That made him look up from his work. "Excuse me?"

"Houshakuji Renge ," Ando elaborated. "That girl can drink hard! Ever since last month, I always see her going to clubs with some of her friends on the weekends. She's like a non-stop party girl!"

Funny, Renge never club-hopped in Japan. He had no idea what she did while in France but most of her Friday and Saturday evenings were with him, either on a date or on the phone. That was until a month ago, when he told her about Claudia…

The thought of Renge partying, completely smashed and full of alcohol… Well, Kyouya found himself concerned. He made a call and within a few days, he was in his room, reading over notes his investigator sent him. She was attending school regularly… her grades slipped in late November but she managed to bounce back… She spent Christmas and New Years in Paris…

He picked up the large glossy pictures the investigator left in the envelope. Many were of Renge and a group of girls he had never seen before, entering clubs, walking into VIP rooms… His eyes widened when he spotted Renge dancing with a few male strangers. And every single picture inside the clubs, there was a drink in her hand.

Kyouya's eyes narrowed.

The last picture he saw, of her stumbling into her friend's limo, made him throw the whole stack facedown on the cushion beside him.

This would not do. The very thought of Renge losing control like that… well, it angered him to say the least. It left him frustrated, tense and… was that a hint of helplessness?

His cellphone rang, pulling his thoughts back to earth. He looked at the caller ID and opened his phone. Perfect, a distraction. "Hello?" he answered in English.

"Hi, is this Kyouya Ootori?"

"Yes, Claudia, it's me."

"Oh, good," she sighed in relief. "I don't know what I'd do if it was the wrong number," she seemed to say out loud to herself. "So, how are you? And what time is it there?"

"It's…" he glanced at his wall clock, "almost 11 o'clock at night."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know the time difference was that bad," Claudia immediately apologized. "It's still early morning here."

"I see," Kyouya sat back and tilted his head upwards, sinking into the plush backrest. "So, do you have any plans for today?" he engaged in casual conversation.

"Nothing, really," she answered. "I'm meeting my girlfriends later for a charity benefit we're planning." Claudia paused for a bit and then added, "You know, you can just hang up on me, I won't be offended. I know it's kind of late for calls."

"Nonsense," he grit his teeth.

"Truth be told, Kyouya, I'm not really a telephone kind of person," she admitted. "There is always webcam, but I can't guarantee long conversations while sitting in front of the computer. But, well, given our situation, it's something that requires as much effort as I can muster. Don't you think?"

"Yes," he responded quickly, "I fully agree." Trying to steer the conversation from intimate to casual once again, he asked, "So what is this benefit you are planning?"

As she began to explain, Kyouya tilted his head to the side, eyes falling upon the back of the glossy photos. He reached over to pick one up and viewed the image of Renge as she was sitting in a booth with a crowd of her friends sitting around her. She was holding a round glass, half-filled with alcohol and ice, against her forehead, as she held her head forward, eyes downcast. The way her shoulders were hunched down, it was almost as if…

"Is this benefit a national or international scale?" Kyouya asked, proving he could pay attention to someone else while engaged in his own thoughts.

They continued talking for another half hour.

Kyouya never took his eyes off the picture. It was the only one in which, among the lights, alcohol, and dancing, she actually looked… sad…