...okay...so my writing style and the storyline changed a bit. They're in high school now, so I figured that Kyouya would be a little more scheaming and stuff...so...yeah...

Chapter Three

As one can imagine, my information about Hitachiin Kaoru was limited and rarely updated, seeing as my personal investigation into his life was kept a secret from everyone; even my own family. There was only so much information one could obtain while remaining seemingly uninterested. But the thing was, I wasn't uninterested. I was hooked, caught, sitting on the edge of my seat while watching the rollercoaster thrill ride that was the younger boy's life. I couldn't help but watch him, when honestly, Kaoru was the brightest thing in my life. How's that for sad?

Apparently, now that I think about it, I guess I was his.

When I entered my first year of high school, a lot more information became available, via grape vine. You wouldn't believe the amount of information these children could obtain about their parents, other's parents and all those dirty little secrets that everyone tried so hard to keep under the rug. Well, perhaps you can, but you must believe me, it was an infinite source of talk and drama.

Rumors, such as that the red head was dying from a fatal mind disease that ate at his brain or that Kaoru suffered from multiple identities, floated around the shadowy side of the school programs, written in bathroom stalls, on small pieces of paper and occasionally scratched into the paint of the walls (However, those rarely ever lasted, for they were found 'vulgar' and 'inappropriate', were often painted over by the morning after).

I dithered here and there in the dark underworld of lies and rumors; in fact, I believe I was the main source of all the proper gossip, the facts that were straight and spot on. That's how I got labeled as the 'Shadow King'. Wonderful, right?

That was also the year I meet Souh Tamaki, a blond exchange student who seemed to take insults and compliments and didn't seem able to understand the words 'leave', 'me', 'the', 'fuck', and 'alone'. He was a bright eyed boy, who had more grand ideas than could fit in his head; this caused quite a bit of discrepancy, seeing as he would often act on these half baked schemes and result in making a total fool of himself. What was more, Tamaki insisted on being my best friend and, when I told him no, cried and spent a good ten minutes in some random corner, bemoaning about 'unreturned feelings' and 'woe'. That's hoe he was labeled as 'The King'. More acutely, the Drama Queen, but being called that made him sulk.

I didn't learn a lot about Kaoru that year; not many people had heard of him, nor the Hitachiin industry and those who had weren't eager to spread the news they had around. It was nine months after the introduction of Tamaki to my life, that I officially met Hitachiin Kaoru. Not Hikaru. Not HikaruandKaoru. But the actual personality of the younger twin. It was…different, to say the least.

"Hey, did you hear?"

"—The new boy? The red head?—"

"I heard he killed his nurses cat and was sent to the mental house—"

"—No, he shot his father in the leg—"

"I could have sworn that it was the other way around; his father shot him in the leg…"

Those were several of the rumors I heard that cloudy day. It was fall, school had just started up and I was already thriving in the presence of the teachers I had upgraded to since last year. My father was pleased with me furthering our family interests in the Souh heir and I had somehow managed to keep Tamaki from destroying anything valuable, such as our reputations. A good year, right? Well, it was about to get better and in the least likely place.

An after school club was a required activity; one that all students must participate in. Ouran had a wide variety of clubs, from chess to American football, to dancing. It wasn't very hard to find one that interested you, thus no students complained about the extra hour or so they were required to spend on the campus when they could have been starting in on the work load. There was even a homework club for those with fears of never getting the assigned work done.

The club that I, myself, attended was the group centered around those intending to proceed in a life of medicine. For some reason, Tamaki had insisted on joining me in the Med. Club, although he had his future laid out in front of him, and no where in the fine print did it say 'attend medical school'.

The exact date was unknown to me; another boring day with far too many clouds in the sky and too many wrong answers coming from the mouths of my fellow club members.

"But, I could have sworn that you had to apply pressure to the trachea when giving C.P.R."

That was Tamaki, with the wrong answer as usual. However, no one seemed bent on correcting him. In fact, the other's simply agreed with the blond fool; I couldn't tell if they were actually thought he was right, or were just playing nice. Either way, I knew several students who weren't going to pass their midterm exam in a few years.

"Isn't that right, Kyouya?" Tamaki asked, snatching the medical journal out from under my arms and flipping it open on the library table we were seated around. I couldn't help the roll of my eyes that went unnoticed by the other boys. One of them, a boy with dark brown hair that seemed to belong in the first year, nodded his head.

"Of course you have to press down; otherwise the fainted's lungs would fill up with CO2." I didn't know weather to correct his chemistry, anatomy or treatment plan first, and settled on none. "You see, if you don't apply pressure to the throat, they keep breathing and—"

"—Actually, if you're unconscious, you can't breath at all…"

I, along with my fellows, must have jumped three feet off our seats at the sound of a voice behind us. As one, we swiveled to find a red head—one I knew rather well—leaning against a book case with three large textbooks in his arms. Hitachiin Kaoru had joined our midst; entered like a god and looking just as holy.

"You see," he explained, sliding the books into the nearest shelf alcove and demonstrating with his hands, "You have to apply pressure to the nose of the unconscious body and tip the head back while giving C.P.R. Otherwise, when you breath into his or her mouth, you're simply pumping the air into their stomach, which will eventually burst and kill them. Plus," we watched as he turned to the dark haired first year, "CO2 is what a car emits; the only element that formula contains that will kill us is O2, and O2 does not rush down our throats. We have to actually be breathing in the first place, to inhale it and, as I've already stated, you can't breathe while unconscious."

Correct. He was right. Silence met Kaoru's answer, of course, but he was one hundred percent correct.

I blinked in surprise. He hadn't said 'we' or 'he' in an out of place interval once in that explanation. Perhaps the hours of therapy were working. Glancing around, I noticed the fellow Med. Club members gaping at him, a gasp; it was then that I remembered I was the most likely the only one to have heard or even seen Hitachiin Kaoru before this point; he was a stranger to the rest of them.

Kaoru seemed to have registered the awkward response he was getting, for I could see his muscles tense in his wiry neck and noticed the stiff nature for which he reached for his shelved books. His eyes were reasonably blank and defiant with the fierce kind of self preservation a wounded animal adopted when around people or other animals it was not familiar with. I guessed he didn't remember me.

"I, uh…sorry for butting in there, but you were wrong…I'll just be going now." Kaoru turned and, with a speed unknown to humans, Tamaki jumped up from his seat—upsetting the table and sending a cascade of papers and pens into the laps of seven other surprised high schooleres—and leapt past the red head to bar his exit. Like an excited puppy, the blond threw his arms away from his body and smiled.

"Who are you?!" he asked brightly, placing a hand on Kaoru's shoulder and steering the nonresistant boy back to the table. Kyouya glared at the blond, shifting slightly and trying to determine weather his leg was undamaged from the medical encyclopedia falling into his lap.

Kaoru was directed into Tamaki's vacated chair and the older boy took up residence on the table's edge. Here, he folded his hands and looked at the red head with an intense interest that was shared by the rest of the group. That is to say, by every one but myself. Kaoru's interest to me had died once his parents had employed a private physiatrist and withdrawn their son from my family hospital. I guess one could say that absence did not make the heart grow fonder; more of made the heart's owner require all bonds with the heart's desire to be severed and forced itself to fold over to hide the crease the heart's desire had left in the brain. But, that might be a little too philosophical for those of you who have never purposely distanced themselves from someone who truly entranced them.

Tamaki probed Kaoru again when he received no response. "You're new here, right? Well, I'm Souh Tamaki—vice president of the Medical Club, Med. Club for short—and that's my best friend, Ootori Kyouya—the actual president of the club—and on your right is…"

I could tell that neither Kaoru nor myself were paying attention to the wild introductions Tamaki was giving the other club members. I don't know how he could tell I wasn't interested, but I could tell by the way his amber eyes turned themselves upon me, wide open and the same vividly dulled amber they had been the day in the undersized child's play room, where he'd broken the habit (or was it a compulsion?) of calling himself by his brother's name.

I don't know what, exactly, I saw in the golden irises and—I hope—Kaoru didn't see anything in my eyes, shielded from the world by a thin sheet of glass. Perhaps there was…recondition…?

"—ou hear me?!"

We were both shaken from our own personal reveries, and Kaoru immediately turned his attention towards the eccentric blond. "I'm sorry, what?"

Tamaki huffed animatedly and ruffled the younger boy's red hair. I almost wanted to snap his hand off at the wrist and from the look that Kaoru gave the offending limb, he wanted to do the same with his teeth.

"I said, silly baka, that this is Fujioka Haruhi! I believe she's in the same class as you; the brilliant commoner scholarship student who is an extremely refreshing item to have in this our small collection of students wishing to follow a career of the medical sorts."

The brunette first year Tamaki was referencing in general sighed, rolled her eyes and allowed her head to flop onto the table, where her arms cushioned the fall. "I actually wanted to be a lawyer," she informed the group through the fabric of her yellow cufflinks, "But Tamaki-senpai said I would be much better suited proceeding in the medical terminology and that there wasn't a club for lawyers…"

"—Anyways," I rolled my eyes and willed my friend to shut up. "What brings you here, dear red headed boy, and how might we service you? You, my friend, have already avidly helped us in our time of despair, so we must do the same for you!! Are you lost in the library? Your studies?"

I honestly wished that Tamaki would stop offering to help random people. If I remembered correctly, it was he who had gotten the two of us and Haruhi wrapped into a service that involved a soup kitchen, homeless commoners, and a dog that was in heat and found it's opportune mate to me my pant leg…

"I'm Hitachiin Kaoru and, yes, I'm new here and kind of lost." I admired the way he admitted it; valiantly and slightly defiantly, while still polite and carefree. All this, however, was hidden under the most obvious tone in his voce: monotone. Kaoru turned his eyes towards myself again, and I felt a small amount of blood well into my cheeks as he inquired, "Do I know you from somewhere? You look vaguely familiar…"

"…No," I informed him. "I don't think you do. I certainly don't remember ever seeing you…"

A lie. A lie given for no reason; I knew Kaoru. I knew him well and, for some reason unbeknownst to myself, I was denying it. Could it be…jealousy? No, why would I be jealous of him? Complacent satisfaction? That he couldn't tie himself to me? A futuristic look? That I didn't want to find myself saddled with another Tamaki?

No none of those seemed quite right…

"Well, I know I've heard the name somewhere before," Kaoru said, a more offensive tone edging it's way into his voice. Tension prickled the air between us and it felt as if everyone in the room was aware of the tsunami under the surface of the cool waters. Well, all the room's occupants other than Tamaki.

My blond classmate took it upon himself to jump happily off the desk and extend a hand to Kaoru. With evidence from his statement that accompanied this action, I guessed he was one of the stupidest men in the world. "If you're already such good friends with my friend Kyouya, you simply must join the two of us for lunch some time!! Or, would you even consider joining our Medical club? You seem to have an extensive knowledge of the medical terminology and treatment; you'd be perfect!!"

Kaoru raised an eyebrow, eyes still attached to mine and a challenging look upon his face. "I don't think that would be proper; I am not going to be a doctor and I don't see what's so important about me eating lunch with you and Kyouya-senpai." He spat my name as if it were poison. The red head stood and, in forced politeness, bowed towards Tamaki. "I appreciate the offer, but I must decline. Good day."

And, just like that, he pushed past Tamaki and out of the library. I watched, silently grinding my teeth as the door closed with an audible click, followed by the sound of a bell ringing. The toll of the gong was the universal symbol that the entire school day was other, that students were to pack up their bags and leave the ground now, that clubs were over. My fellow medical scholars quickly took a chance to pack their bags and flee the presences of the pissed off 'Shadow King'. Only Tamaki—stupid, stupid Tamaki—remained behind with me.

"Kyouya," he whined. I didn't look at him, but he continued anyway. "Kyouya, why doesn't that boy like us? Have we ever wronged the Hitachiin family? I haven't even heard of it before now…"

I shook my head, unwilling to answer. Tamaki took it strife and proceeded to babble incessantly about random things—from agenda to his dinner menu—for the rest of the time it took our personal limos to arrive and pick us both up.

In that time, I realized something that my usually excellent brain failed to pick up on while we were in the library. Hitachiin Kaoru had ignored me, as well; he hadnm't pressed the matter of the days he spent in the hospital, the countless times we'd seen each other and the one time we'd actually spoken. Did that mean he was just as eager as I was to forget about the goings on in the hospital? Or, could it mean that he truly didn't remember me? If so, why had he acted so stand-offish when I'd claimed no relationship with him? Did he even remember Hikaru, and was I, in some way, connected to the brother he seemed forced to forget?

Later on that night, when I had resigned to my bedroom to work, I opened the drawer that I usually kept locked at all times, the one with my collection of notebooks. Contrary to popular belief, I only had a round dozen of the organized books, all ordered by date, then the age at which I had written them. I slowly extracted the one from the time when I was eleven.

The page labeled Hitachiin Hikaru/Kaoru was blank. No notes had I gathered from our one meeting prier. I sighed and lifted my pen to the old page.

'Hitachiin Kaoru seems to have larger reason for denying any ties with my family hospital than I do denying any ties to him.'

It was true. Kaoru was hiding something and I, as an Ootori, was determined to discover what it was. It was then that I made it my objective to gain his trust—'friendship' even, depending on his limitations of the word—and uncover every single on of his dirty little secrets, unreasonable reasons and untruthful truths. I was determined to figure out Hitachiin Kaoru, by any means necessary, then spill his secrets to the world of Ouran Gossip.

Unknown to myself at the time, some thirty miles away from my bedroom, Souh Tamaki sat in his own personal study, a large book on behavioral issues opened in his lap and the pages about detachment dog-eared. He sighed and closed the large book with a flump, thinking to have uncovered his intended bit of information.

Hitachiin Kaoru, he concluded, was acting the way he was—detached and passive aggressive—because he had endured some childhood trauma that had never been rectified in his mind. All that he needed now was closure on that matter.

That was when Tamaki gave his entire attention to 'Operation Fix Hitachiin Kaoru's Mental Traumas By Be-Friending Him'. What joy, right?

So...hate the new style? Like it? Please review; let moi know, for I appreciate all feedback (except flames...flames will be burnt...XD)