Disclaimer I do NOT own Ouran High School Host Club or its characters/places/etc., Bisco Hatori does.
Author's Note: I apologize in advance if there are any mistakes with wordings, spelling, grammar and punctuations or if the flow and plot are unsatisfactory! I'm very extremely new at this writing thing. :)
Please, feel free to read and review! Constructive criticism is incredibly welcomed, I'm all for comments that will help me improve! (Please refrain from being blatantly rude...I'm a sensitive soul)
Chapter 9:
"Nekozawa-senpai, huh?" Clouded lilac bore blindly into the ivory keys before him as his hands absently brushed over the scale of keys without sound.
Sitting at his piano had been a transient amenity, with the ease and confidence he exuded at the sparsely padded bench, he had been woefully disappointed when the music wouldn't come to assist in his escape. His mind too loaded with visions of angry stares and passionate embraces with a conspirator of dark forces, he was too locked in his own head trying to find out why.
It was anticipated, her ire, though what threw him off was the relations they all walked in on. Granted, Kyoya had mentioned them spending time together. But having spent nearly every day with the cross-dressing brunette had garnered nothing for any of them aside from rare hugs and encouraging words. It was suspicious. Their actions seemed unforced, fluid, natural. Far too natural to actually be natural. Fluid. Unnatural. He's put her under a love potion, a spell... something!
Fair skin tightened into angry lines as he grit straight white teeth in a menacing snarl. The pressure of guilt he felt weighing on his shoulders fell away to a furious grip on the fragile keys at his fingertips, sounding his rage with the clanks and shaking insidious bass clashing in a dump of a jolting tonal maelstrom.
His eyes hardened with the clash, slits of glassy amethyst burning against the sparkling white of the grand-scale instrument, determination morphing into much more. He can't poison her to have her! He can't take her away from her family! He won't take her from me...Bien triomphera du mal. Vous etes le mechant, je, le heros.
~O~O~
Fragrant steam wafted from the thick grey cups as she poured the liquid into them. It was a spicy earthen smell with undertones of citrus, a token from the expo she attended weeks ago when holding out for her dad's possible return. Deft hands set the pot upon the protective mat on the table, grabbing her cup to sip the fluid gingerly, letting the slow burn scald her lips, caress her tongue and slide down her throat with a soothing spreading heated coat. She looked to the teen to her front, taking him in with an inquisitive tilt.
"Sen-Umehito?" Nekozawa brought his cup to the table, silently setting it to the wood below. Her mocha gaze followed the small movement for a second, impressed. "Why didn't you fight back? You just showed me a little of what you're capable of, I'm curious why you ended up like you did." She took another small sip, letting the cup rest in her palm instead of the table, knowing she couldn't pull off the super-quiet release.
His eyes fluttered shut for an instant as he nodded his head trying to organize the right words. Shortly, returning his soft gaze he chose to speak truthfully.
"They're your friends, whether you're mad or not. I didn't want to do anything that could make you think badly of me." Bringing up a hand to the back of his cloth-covered head he scratched awkwardly. "Ah, sorry. That sounded incredibly duplicitous of me."
"No, actually." Draping a heat-drenched palm to the cool smooth table, her face softened in a small tight-lipped grin. "It was very thoughtful. I mean, you were being attacked and the first thing you thought about was me... It's strange, but flattering... and I'm glad. Just, not that you were hurt. It wasn't fair what they did to you."
Kind words and thankful looks turned into invigorating chatter and fulfilling laughter. Before either realized, the teapot had been emptied and the atmosphere took on a dense reluctance. Neither wanted to say anything about leaving, they didn't want it to happen and would have been fine sitting at the table together chatting about anything to keep the moment from arriving too soon. Until a buzzing from Nekozawa's pocket intterupted, cutting through with a sharp swipe of reality.
"Nekozawa Umehito." He stated plainly into the phone, irritated to have been caught stalling.
"I'M HOME, BIG BROTHER! Ive been waiting for you, where are you? Will you be back soon? Mommy and daddy are still on business and Papa has work to do, too and... I'm LONELY! Will you read to me? Play dolls with me? Put on a puppet show? Show me some cool spells? Fit my plushies for their own cloaks?-" Pulling the phone from his ear at the dizzying questions, he stared wide-eyed at the floor as he stood. Haruhi bit back the laugh as she heard the continuous loud stream of giggling inquery and walked to hold open the door for a lost-looking Nekozawa.
"I'll be home soon, little one." He smiled at having found words to reply and a space to interject them. Placing his hand on the receiver, he nodded to the smiling brunette and mouthed the words. 'Call me if you need me.' Planting a kiss to the crown of her head before heading out of her door juggling his books and Bereznoff awkwardly, trying to end the call. She let a giggle escape before closing the door and sighed against the wood.
~O~O~
"Mon ami! It is important. How else do you explain it aside from his evil witchcraft?" The blonde's whiny exclamations made him want to throw the phone down to his second floor to shatter the thing in millions of mechanical bits.
"Honestly, Tamaki. One would think you are still a child with those accusations." He blew out an agitated groan. "Almost as bad as the fool we're speaking of."
Kyoya pulled off his glasses, running his thumb and forefingers across eyes that portended annoying ticks.
"We'll just do a little snooping... Please, my friend? I just want to be sure."
"It's not going to be one of your asinine field trips, is it? I don't think Haruhi could handle another emotional catastrophe from anyone... It's difficult enough to keep you on a leash." Bored and resigned, he agreed to the outing. If only to keep Tamaki from calling at all hours during the night.
"...I'm not a dog, Kyo-" Tamaki began to reply sulkily before Kyoya ended the call. His Ebony mane shifted into it's usual style as practiced hands replaced his glasses and shook his head at the tone. He could almost hear the host king in a dark shadowy corner, poking at dust bunnies, pouting and tracing circles in the floor.
"Idiot."
~O~O~
"I-" Kaoru doubled over, hands on his knees panting heavily as sweat slid from his neck to his eyes in a rapid trail, burning and blurring his vision. "I-" He wheezed and panted, sputtering on sharp inhales when sweat drops sucked into his windpipe. "I. Can't. Go. Any. Further."
Hikaru kept a steady stationary pace, sweating but not nearly out of breath and powered by the angry scowl with emotions to go with it, he stared at his enervated twin.
"Go home then." He needed to run. To get away from the guilt and rage building inside of him, to become mentally blank and absorb the blurs of scenery that rushed past him as he propelled himself forward on adrenaline-numb legs. He couldn't stop, couldn't let the feelings consume him, it was suffocating and he was afraid of taking it out on anyone else. Especially the boy in front of him trying pathetically to catch an adequate lungful of oxygen, so similar and so different all the same. He scoffed at the sight, rotating himself and running onward.
"Hi-Hikaru..." The younger twin lifted a hand from his knee toward the retreating body of his brother, watching his brother go forward into the darkening horizon alone and smiled a bitter sputtering smile. He's finally trying to control himself... Trying.
~O~O~
The return of Haninozuka Mistukuni and Morinozuka Takashi proved to be a very painful event for one Haninozuka Yasuchika upon the obligatory battle-greeting imposed upon the siblings by Haninozuka code. Infuriatingly enough, his older brother, child-like and an over-all 'disgrace' had left him bloody and immobile on the estate lawn within mere moments of his arrival.
Hani was not in the mood to play, much less to slyly teach his younger brother proper technique. He felt horrible, which left him in a very rough mood. No amount of cake or youthful past-times could cure this. He needed to practice, needed to hurt and be hurt, and if his inkling was correct, Takashi did too. If not, well, he would have to take the beating that would come to him and follow his damn orders.
Mori watched the quick fight with a quirked brow and stony eyes. He didn't feel any pity for the challenger, it was normal. And, if anything, quite the learning experience for the youngest Haninozuka. With long slow strides behind his quick-legged petite cousin, they passed the twitching form of Yasuchika in the direction of the weapons shed near their destination.
The door slid loudly and quickly both cousins were armed with a shinai tucked on their shoulders. Both masters of their arts, bound for the tranquil reclusion the water garden would provide. Shoes and socks, pants, jackets and button-down shirts wrought a path to the two upon grass and stones, well-toned muscles rippling smooth skin in the knee-deep waters; crushing blows landing with both satisfaction and grief, punishing and doling punishment for all they had done wrong.
Hani spun with the resisted momentum provided by the chilly waters, the stick whipping through the still air, he connected mid weapon on Mori's defensive maneuver, he doubled backward to attack from above. The tip of his weapon caught Mori from across his left shoulder blade as the wild-type rolled forward to deflect, throwing his own blow upwards and cracking the ribs and obliques of the small blonde catapulting his body into the water to fall upon the rocks. Both reset at opposite sides to continue with their acts of self-absolution.
Koi swam at a safe distance away from the two, watching at the strange mammals bleed into their waters and the vibrations from their yells pleaded for forgiveness from the world around them and from themselves.
~O~O~
He slid from behind the wheel of his vehicle, still a little shocked that nothing had happened to it since the other day. He had felt horrible for thinking such things, but he couldn't help it. It was an odd thing to have his car parked anywhere without security or a drive inside of it.
He walked around the mansion from the garages the long way to enter from the main doors, if anything, it was closer to his wing and would save him some time. The sun was already setting and he had no doubt that his little sister would most likely be asleep by now.
Sure enough, when the doors opened to the main foyer, he was met by an exhausted looking Kuretake, who informed him in grand detail about the girl's active day between the two houses. He nodded and smiled, giving the woman the rest of the night off. Just listening to everything made his head spin and he hadn't even witnessed it, much less, participated.
The stairwell and halls in his section of the home were always a comforting dim, the deep red runner carpeting sat between smooth, freshly waxed mahogany that contrasted beautifully against the white-washed walls decorated with hand-carved frames surrounding original art and portraits. Lowly lit blown-glass chandeliers accommodated his sight and skin as he moved silently through the domestic labyrinth to his personal room.
He asked for Kadomatsu to have the kitchen staff to make him a small dinner and to have it sent to his room and to have a similar order sent to the Fujioka residence, glad to have caught the loyal family servant making his rounds of the expansive home, before he cracked open the heavy door into his very own comfortable darkness.
Placing books and Bereznoff in their respective proper settings, he set ablaze soft light that flickered joyously on the ends of the tapered wax and wick. Preparing double his nightly offering for that which he had missed, the cursed doll took it happily, greedily as the teen shed himself of his cloak and clothes into a pile, assessing his fading injuries. He grabbed full-leafed herbs from his refrigerated stores under his shrine to aid him in his healing process.
The water ran hot in the large clawed-foot basin, steam billowed from the rim in a thick fog, condensation gathered on the creamy skin of the boy's forearm in small beads as he dropped the leaves and salts into his bath, mixing them with the tips of his elegant grazing fingers. It thickened the liquid, a cleanly herbal syrup to soothe the flesh, relax the mind and to mend.
Lowering himself one lithe limb at a time, he hissed as the healing tea enveloped him, heating and massaging his tight, aching muscles with just the pressure of the dense liquid surrounding his entirety. He breathed deep the steam, letting it swim in his lungs before allowing it to escape in a shuddering sigh as he let his blonde head and lean muscled arms lay against the hooked contour, surrendering to the sweltering substance that licked at his skin with every respiration. The caustic penetration of his pores combined with the dizzying calidity were heady, lulling the blonde into a state of healing meditation. Long ashen lashes fluttered down, fanning across paling cheeks as he sunk into the blackened depths of his own mind.
~O~O~
Street lights from high posts had just kicked on, illuminating the roads and alleys from the darkness of the dusk. Faint arguments and television sets could be heard from the many homes lining the pavement, animals were protesting their rights to territories and babies were refusing to sleep. Rustling and clanking were forefront, near a side street and a story below one unsuspecting cross-dresser, two oddly-clad bodies trudged, waded and tore into many plastic bags that had been previously rotting peacefully in the communal dumpster.
"Please, enlighten me..." Kyoya looked up from the pile of debris, rubbing his plum gloved hands against each other as he chanced to sit on the pavement below. Hunching, hovering and digging through trash was not a normal thing for an upper-class citizen, so to sardonically sully the tradition further, he sat on the questionable surface. "Why are we scrounging through Haruhi's trash like a couple of common stalkers?"
"We are NOTHING like stalkers!" Tamaki huffed, while making a face at the spoiled scraps he grasped, throwing it to the side while shuddering and venturing onward to the next bag.
"Right." The shadow king deadpanned, cricking his head to follow his peculiar comrade. "So then... Why are we wearing ski masks and black leather?"
"I know, it was probably a bad choice. It chafes." The violet-eyed host king readjusted himself and his positioning, sifting through even more disgusting rubble. "But, it's easy to wipe leather and we can always change shirts... Also," A faraway gaze paused his movements. "I've always wanted to wear a face-sock." The ebony-haired cool-type would have palmed his face, had either been clean.
"I didn't care for being stripped by you. A simple word would have sufficed." Kyoya growled, picking up a rotten apple core and tossing it to the president's pile. Tamaki chuckled at the random rare burst of childish antics coming from the low blood-pressure demon lord.
"You wouldn't have changed unless I did what I did, and you know it." A smile crept onto his face immediately vanishing when he found maggots writhing in a very old piece of rancid meat. "URGH!" Gagging, he kicked it away with the toe of his shoe that uncovered an odd article amongst rotten food and wrappers. "AH-HA!"
"Did you actually find something this time?... It's not just another empty 'Midol' bottle, is it? Because as I've just said-" Tamaki raised a mauve latex-gloved hand to stop his friend from speaking any more, after reading what he found flipped and held the card for Kyoya to scan.
You are never alone, Haruhi-san. There is always someone who cares. Please, allow me to be here with you, even just like this. -U. N.
P.S Don't worry, it's not cursed or anything!
"Curious..." The bespectacled teen dubiously intoned.
"I wonder what came with this card..." Tamaki mirrored Kyoya's suspicion, glancing between the card and the glinting of his friend's lenses. "Though, I have a feeling we're not going to find much more here." The shadow king sighed, taking initiative in order to keep Haruhi's wrath in check.
"I'll call for someone to clean up here."
As he yanked a purple glove off with a snap to pull his phone from the unnecessarily snug choice of lower attire, both boys spun their heads to the sound of heavy feet trodding up the stairs to Haruhi's apartment. From their angle, they couldn't see much other than a bald head at the place her door was located. Bald Head left almost immediately, quickly even with such weighted strides, Haruhi's door both opened and closed shortly thereafter.
Both trash-laden boys gaped at the scene, one more prominently than the other, knowing that something was happening under their very noses. They didn't like it one bit, for similar yet very different reasons.
~O~O~
He came crashing to earth from the astral plane with a break-neck speed, colors blurred in streaking lines and hazy splotches where universal night had consumed all. With unblinking eyes he watched as directly below, his naked tub-soaking body was getting closer with alarming momentum. Bracing for impact, yet unable to really do so with lack of physical form, he instead came-to in the luke-warm water with a jerk. I'll never get used to that! Everything must be done, though. I don't feel any pain...
He rubbed expert, nimble hands over his face and body, skimming figertips over his drenched flesh feeling for any slight twinges or aches. Finding none, he plugged his nose and submerged himself in the water to wet his hair, enjoying the expansion of his lungs and the relaxing wash of the diluted herbal medicine coating his scalp. Standing, scrubbing himself quickly with his exfoliation sponge and shampooing with his very own home-made concoction (made for his sister who didn't like the scent. "It's not strawberry!") and using the bronze-colored showerhead to rinse completely, he felt refreshed and ready for the rest of his night. Wrapping his waist in a plush blue towel, keeping warm his most delicate of parts, he padded from the low-light expansive bathroom to his main bedroom, air-drying along the way.
Water droplets clung to his exposed glistening vanilla derma, chilling it, raising sensitive bumps along his taut physique under the cool air and aphotic surroundings as he walked the length of rich wood to the mirrored ornate covered food tray set out by his staff on the far side of his large curtained four-post bed. As if on cue, his stomach growled and he smiled to himself at the perfect timing. Pulling the antique barstool out gracefully, he sat at the tall round table facing the impenetrable sealed drapes of the windows he'd never opened and letting his mind wander to his phone that had not rung as his eyes toured each small dish, hoping that she'd at least be thinking of him while enjoying the small meal.
~O~O~
The house had been quiet, yet not necessarily empty after Umehito's departure. Watching him walk out the door, parting with a smile and the paper with his number had left her full and warm. Yes, it was silent inside of the apartment while she sat on her thin, crumpled white linens reading over her notes, but inside of her mind laughter and heartfelt words echoed. She smiled, flipping through papers full of writing that the boy helped her to compose.
Her skin heated at the memory of his poetry reciting; the way his full lips seemed to caress the words, all-consuming, foreign words in an even more foreign accent that was like an entrancing melody, moving in perfect synchronous flow with his gentle elegant hands. Hands that showed her things she never thought possible, a voice that brought magic to her world, in more ways than one.
Her fingers gripped the fragile sheet precariously between her shaking fingers as she recalled the attack on the robed teen after she kissed him, a low growl rumbled in her throat and she closed her eyes and hung her head. No, those boys would not be forgiven so easily. Not from her.
A knock at the door broke her both of her souring thoughts and mood. She scuttled across the floor and mats, down the hall and through the living room to unfasten the entry with a subtle creak and a small clunk. Her chocolate gaze dropped to the object hanging from her nob, familiar, it lit her face with a swayed goofy grin upon first glance.
She unhooked the cloth-wrapped delivery, taking it to the table and sat down, peeling the emerald wool casing from her gift with eager, pleased fingers. Not nearly as elegant as the first, but it still took her breath away, being the thoughtful side-effect of an intriguing man thinking of her and her well-being, her eyes watered a little at the sight as she unpacked.
A couple of small dishes spread across her table, plastic bowls sitting on top of their lids, of perfect serving sizes. Color and clear to decorate a table that had but moments ago stood empty. Clean, polished and now full of foods that he wished for her to consume. She held no qualms complying.
She first sampled what turned out to be cucumber salad; it's vivid green, orange, white and the creamy color of the fresh vegetables, herbs, and sesame seeds that were sprinkled throughout called to her. It was crisp, cool... The perfect balance between tangy and sweet, incredibly refreshing to her palate. Simple and not overly exuberant, something she could appreciate without too much guilt. Her pink tongue ran the plump curves of her lips to capture the delicious oil that spread there, readily eyeing the next morsels.
Salty and savory gyoza threw her for a loop with its superb modest execution making her wonder if he really enjoyed such common food from time to time, or if he was just sending what he thought she'd like. She shrugged unperturbed shoulders and took another bite, noticing the very last bowl held fresh strawberries, blueberries and what looked to be yogurt. Her greasy lips curled into a contented grin gazing dreamily at the fruity treat, until another knock at the door tore her from her satiated reverie.
She quickly stood, grabbing a towel from the kitchen counter to wipe her fingers and mouth on, she kept it in her hands twisting it as she ambiguously meandered toward the door, distracted by the fact that only one rap came and no more. Pressing palm and toweled fist to the door, she leaned in on the balls of her feet to look through the peep-hole.
"Huh...? No one." Pursing full lips she tilted her head and shrugged her shoulders, paying no more mind to the momentary distraction and shuffling happily back to her fruity yogurt.
~O~O~
"Let me go!" Struggling with flailing limbs against the surprisingly tight grip on his collar, Tamaki yell-whispered to his current dominant. "She needs to know she's being used as a magical love-doll!"
One fist wrapped and fisted in the blonde's turtleneck, Kyoya dragged the writhing mass of host king from the side of the building and down the steps, effectively choking and leading the boy down the stairs without too much effort on his part.
"Tamaki, you do realize that magic isn't real?" He loosened his grip on the halfer's collar once the teen stopped fighting the motion. "That if there is anything going on, we will have to wait to see her anyway? Because I'm quite certain that she has thrown us out twice, the last time as a result of assault. If we were to knock on her door and bombard her with accusations about her dalliances involving Nekozawa-senpai, she would either turn us away again or call authorities."
He ran a blessedly ungloved finger up the bridge of his nose to reposition the designer frames.
"In short, she wouldn't take us seriously. Especially so, with the drivel you'd be spouting." He sighed plaintively, having come up nearly empty-handed hadn't helped him in the least. He had sifted through filth, wore leather and man-handled his french friend whilest said friend was speaking nonsense, just to go home empty. There had to be something he wasn't seeing. "We'll have to wait for exams to fininsh. It won't be so bad. Two halved days and then we have the rest of the break for ourselves. You can stalk whomever you want."
Kyoya smirked, quirking a brow behind his lenses, pleased with his own rambling discovery. He would have plenty of time to solve his little mystery problem involving Haruhi and Nekozawa along with doing his work and sorting through the packet of papers.
"Well, where's your car?" Kyoya curtly inquired. The boy brought them out to sift through wretched slop, there was no way he would be walking anywhere. Much less in the sweaty leather prison hugging his bottom half uncomfortably.
"Kyoya..." Violet orbs darted wildly, not wanting stare into the depths of hell itself.
"I think I lost my phone."
The shadow king nearly crushed his frames with the force of his massive palm before waving him off and pulling his own cell and alerting his driver.
"Go on then." Walking away from a pouting Tamaki, he sat on a curbside bench not too far away to wait for his car as the pricely-type thrashed through muck, glove-less, looking for his missing device.I wonder how long it will take for him to realize he had me hold on to it? Oh well, I'll leave it here in case he decides to camp on the bench.
Hiding a chuckle with the back of his hand, Kyoya called out to the Host Club president and waved him over flippantly, pointing to his evacuated spot on the bench before he entered his newly arrived vehicle.
