School.

Kyoya had never dreaded it before as much as he did now. It was a pain. He couldn't go there without feeling awkward around Tamaki, even more so now, or being irritated by all the abnormality of his daily routine. It was getting harder to talk to people, or do business, or manage the club, all because of his restless mind and his growing hunger, which made him exceedingly uncomfortable on it's own. And it really wasn't helping that the other club members were getting suspicious. The twins started to actually attempt to talk about it- They asked Haruhi, actually, for some reason thinking she might know what was going on. Maybe it was because they thought she was closer to Tamaki than most of them were, or that Tamaki might be opening up to her a bit more. Because, come on- everyone knew that Tamaki had a thing for her, even though he may not know it himself. Especially now, when he was so distracted by Kyoya and the odd relationship they now had with each other, that no one knew about.

Haruhi, being laid back as she was, wasn't without concern for him, though- she also noticed. He wasn't as clingy anymore. Everyone was noticing Tamaki more so than Kyoya, because Kyoya was normally withdrawn, most of the time, buried in his work. So it wasn't very apparent how much more withdrawn he was now than other times.

But one person did notice. And of course, that was Haruhi. She paid more attention to these things than the others seemed to. One day, in a small span of time when she didn't have any customers, she went and sat with Kyoya at his usual table in the club room after school, while he typed away who knows what at his laptop. He didn't even look up at her. This was even more disconcerting, because usually he'd at least glance at her when she approached him, if nothing else. So instead, she spoke.

"...Kyoya-senpai?" She said, and Kyoya actually jolted lightly, before looking up to her, blinking. Like he had been lost in thought, even as he typed. After a few short moments, he responded. "Haruhi. Don't you have guests to attend to?" He said in an almost scolding tone, but not quite. He was deflecting. She shifted in her seat a bit,

"Not at the moment, but soon, I'm sure." She said. "I just, wanted to talk to you." She said. Kyoya raised an eyebrow, as if having not a clue as to what she wanted- of course he did, though. She had probably noticed, she was just that kind of person. He was hoping it wasn't what he thought it was, "Why for?" He asked.

There was a pause, and Haruhi leaned forward a bit, putting her arms on the table. "Well," She started, "I've just sort of been noticing... You've been kind of distant, lately." She paused, but Kyoya didn't say anything, so she continued. "And you and Tamaki-senpai haven't been speaking..." She glanced to the side a moment, but then looked back to him. "Not... that it's any of my business." She quickly added. She was hesitant to talk to him about this; fearing that she was invading his privacy by doing so.

Another pause. Kyoya stared at her for a little longer than was comfortable and it made her fidget slightly, before he finally spoke. "You're right. It isn't any of your business." He didn't exactly snap, but there was a hint of something Haruhi couldn't quite place in his voice, "You have work to attend to. Get to it." He said, and looked back to his screen, going back to typing without waiting for a reply.

Haruhi felt like she'd been hit with and arrow, right in the chest. Ouch. So he didn't want to talk about it. She guessed she should have expected as much. She sighed gently, looking a bit defeated before standing and walking away from Kyoya. She would be more persistent if it were anyone else. But to be honest, Kyoya was scary when he wasn't at his best, and it was hard to even approach him that way. She didn't want to get on his nerves, because that would most likely make whatever it was bothering him worse, she thought. Someone like Kyoya didn't seem the type to want to openly speak about what was bothering him to just anyone, anywhere. She was right with that assumption. She would try again, another time...

So Kyoya was left alone again. What he was doing now wasn't actually anything of vital importance. In fact, if you looked close at his screen...

Nope. Strictly classified information.

Back out in world of hosting, outside of Kyoya's dimly lit personal bubble, there was Tamaki, doing his job. But today, he was worse than he'd ever been. Physically, he was just drained; literally. He sat on one of the couches, one girl sitting next to him and another on the couch across from him. He had one arm draped over the back of the couch, and his legs were crossed. He smiled as the girl across from him told him about the vacation she was soon to take with her family to France. A lot of times the girls liked to update him on what was going on in their lives, and he would pay real attention to what they said. He tried not to fall asleep, today, as he found himself very tired- he really didn't want to make it look like he was falling asleep from listening to her, because that would be extremely off putting to anyone watching, especially the girl he was talking to.

But Tamaki was determined, and in turn, very strong willed. So he did his job as he always would, not allowing his depleted energy to show. After these few guests, there weren't many left, and most of them were with the other hosts. Which was surprising, but it was late in the day, and mostly, everyone was going home.

After the girls left him, and he saw them off, he let his smile drop, and stopped trying to keep his eyes wide open. He actually closed them, holding a hand over his forehead and going to sit down near the corner of the room, in a chair by a table the never got much use. He didn't want to make it obvious how awful he felt right now, but he found he couldn't help it right now. He just hoped he could prevent making a scene. He felt like he was about to pass out. And though he'd prevented that in the past, today was just... an off day, like all of the others, only worse. He swallowed, leaning his head in his hand and his arm on the side of the chair. If he just sat for a while, and didn't move much, it would go away. Of course, the dizziness would just rebound when he went to stand up... but he couldn't think about that right now.

Fortunately for him, it was about near time everyone went home for the day, and the hosts were seeing the girls off and getting their things together so they were distracted, for the moment, and didn't pay much attention to him. And then there was Kyoya, who had his back turned to the world, while he shut down his laptop and packed it up, along with his other things.

When Tamaki finally felt the dizziness subsiding, he felt relieved for the moment, and opened his eyes to find his vision back to normal. Good. Now he just had to make it home, without fainting... Yeah, that would be easy. He put both hands on the arms of the chair, standing up with surprisingly little struggle, and preparing to head to the table where he'd set his bag, not long ago.

So, that settles it. Tamaki was Superman. That or he was just extremely stubborn. Because somehow he made it home without causing a scene and managing to slip back into his normal facade. Good. He needed to be more persistent on the heavy home remedy health diet he'd put himself on, to keep himself from going into a permanent sleep.

There was time for a brief nap, however, and he let it come onto him when he arrived in his room after school that day. But it was sort of a half sleep, really, drifting in and out between dreaming and consciousness.

What would it feel like to die before your time? What would it feel like to die, knowing that you'd leave devastation, guilt, and permanent mental and emotional scars on at least one person in your wake? What if that person were your best friend? What if that person was the one who was entirely responsible for your death? Oh, but what if they weren't? You would die knowing that you played a very big role in your own death- or at least, knowing it way coming, and letting it happen. Could it be called suicide? But then, neither one of you had ever planned on this untimely death. What if it had been like a nightmare that you had, many nights before, woken up terrified for, but never actually expected would ever meet reality?

What if it did? What would it feel like to die that death, and cease to exist in a world, in a country, in a city, in a school, in a group of friends and a club you started, that all meant so much to you?

...It would feel pretty damn awful, is what it would feel like.

So it was a good thing that death wasn't about to occur anytime soon, or at least not now. What was with all this dramatic poetic ramble going through Tamaki's head? He shook it off. Today was an off day- recovery. Tomorrow, he'd continue it, tomorrow, there was no school. He was going to talk to Kyoya... he would. He dreaded it, but he would do it. It had to be done sooner or later, because they couldn't avoid this forever... and it also couldn't go on forever. Tamaki acknowledged that he was being unrealistic with his expectations and assumptions that if he really tried hard enough, he could keep this up. But, no, he couldn't. At some point all this blood loss was going to get to him- and it was going to break him. It was already doing that, despite his excessive efforts at keeping himself balanced.

He thought it was all from the blood loss. Both of them did. What neither one of them knew was what was really going on here. Kyoya had no clue- well, he had a slight hint, but he couldn't identify that if he didn't know what he was looking for.

Sure, having something bite into you like that and suck out a considerable amount of your blood was sure to hurt, badly, and even get your heart racing, but why would it cause you to seize? It wouldn't. But it did. At first. And why, why, would it actually start to feel pleasant? It most definitely would not. But... it did. And there had to be a reason for that. There must be- and there was.

Once, Kyoya had felt the sting of something hot, some type of fluid, seeping out into his lower lip and it hurt, stung badly. He hadn't had time to investigate it before he washed it away. It came from his teeth. The two that he shouldn't have, but did.

Venom.


The hunger... the physical attraction, the stress that wasn't only physical but mental, and emotional, and completely out of control- He- He couldn't take this!

Kyoya sat on his bathroom floor up against the wall. He was panting and his glasses were discarded on the floor, a few feet away, looking as if they'd been knocked off abruptly. He made sounds that sounded something like whimpering and groaning, out of frustration, and nervousness, and-

His knees were bent and he had both his hands on his head, his fingers lacing through his hair, his eyes wide and blinking fast, occasionally completely closing for a few seconds. He was sweating. He was shaking. It had only been four days. Four days since he last quieted the screaming need her felt, and that would usually last him at very least, a week- but now, he was feeling it, stronger than ever, what he'd felt the second time he'd used Tamaki, only worse. And he was alone, in his bathroom, trying to hide from it. Where was this coming from? Everything had been normal, only ten minutes ago, and now he could barely hear anything aside from his own pulse drumming in his ears, loud and fast. His chest was constricting, and it was painful to just sit here, and not do anything about it, or force himself not to go after the maid whose footsteps he could hear passing through the hallway outside the door.

He didn't know what to do. He felt like he was going to explode. He couldn't, no, he refused to harm the staff within his home- refused to harm anyone with the deadly desire he could barely control anymore, but... oh, God, it was painful not to. He swallowed heavily, and reached a shaky hand into his pocket to grip his cell phone, eyes wide as he flipped it open, and held it with both hands, trying to keep steady and dial the only number that came to mind. He didn't know what else to do. Tamaki was the only one who knew, who understood, who was willing and who wouldn't draw attention that he could go to for this. He didn't want to do it- he didn't want to hurt Tamaki anymore, he would never forgive himself for this. But what else was he supposed to do?!

He brought the phone up to his ear and listened to it ring, his other hand on the top of his thigh, gripping and twisting at his pant leg tightly, so tightly his knuckles were turning white- whiter than they already were. The ringing continued on at least two more times until he heard it cut off and the familiar voice came through the other end.

"He-" Tamaki was about to greet, but he heard heavy panting on the other end, and his face contorted in worry immediately. He was at home, sitting at his desk, a pen setting inches away from the hand that wasn't holding the phone to his ear. "Kyoya?" He said, turning in his chair, away from the desk. A few short moments passed of more breathing before he heard it stop and transition into something of an unsteady half whisper,

"T-Tamaki, can..." A pause, more breathing, "...can you come over? P-Please..."

Tamaki stood from his chair, "Kyoya, what's wrong?" He said urgently, already heading to the door.

There were a few more seconds of harsh panting and something of a low groan that was barely audible before a voice came through that Tamaki was sure couldn't be Kyoya anymore, in the most vulnerable, trembling tone he'd ever heard out of any male:

"I-I need you..." There was an unsteady exhale after that quiet statement and then the call cut out, and Tamaki was already heading toward the front door of his mansion. He looked severely worried, and he called Kyoya back, but there was no answer.