A/N: Guess who got off her lazy bum to write this? That's right. Me. I've just been really depressed for awhile and anyone who knows me understands that I can't write anything when I'm down (which made it a killer to write essays for class). But I am back and have chapters for all the stories I need to update, as well as some new stories. Ah! Yay! I am sooo excited! No promises that chapters will come every week though. I hope to do a lot of writing when I get to Chicago. Well anyways, let's just get this thing started.
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Kyouya was out front smoking again. His father had done it, his elder brother had done it, he would follow suit. While the youngest had refrained he had clearly proved his position as a rightly alcoholic. Though they were all fit to take over the family businesses, the issues couldn't have been too bad. Anyway, they drank and smoke for the same reason that Kyouya did, to mask the pain. He had not taken a drink in his life, or at least not willingly. His brothers had forced some into his mouth when they were younger. Kyouya wasn't interested in thinking about such memories. He let the cigarette burn down until he could feel the burn on his fingers. He flicked it away, staring over the foggy school grounds.
He gotten up early after going to bed so early. He had arrived at the school practically an hour early and had taken the chance to fix up a few math problems that Tamaki had recorded wrong during one of his absences. The thought of smoking had not jumped to mind until now, when he had found the sinful boxes poking out of his jacket. Smoking was strictly forbidden on the grounds, or at least that was what the rule book tried to tell them. The officials couldn't give a damn about their students as long they brought a positive image to the school and got good grades, possibly the only reason Haruhi had gotten in. Kyouya shrugged the thought off, replacing the bag on his shoulder before stepping inside the schools. A few yellow dresses had just swished through the door and Kyouya opted to follow them and get out of the cold.
He stared straight ahead, walking a few feet behinds the girls and hardly paying attention to who they were. Until he heard his name. Kyouya halted, squinting ahead until he could see the girls' hair in the dark. Yes, these were the same girls from the Host Club. They were, once again, discussing how he was not good for the Host Club and was only pulling it down. Kyouya coughed quietly into his fist. The girls whipped around to face him, eyes wide. "Good morning, hope to see all of you after school today. We're having a special theme." There was false warmth in his voice, as if he wasn't bitter that they had just been criticizing him.
The girls all seemed to forget it to as suddenly they were crowding around him, begging for the surprise theme. They all stared up at him with big, dreamy eyes. He resisted raising an eyebrow and simply moved around the girls, smirking casually. His head ached a little less than it had the day before (thanks to various types of medicines, in all forms) and he couldn't resist but offer his infamous smirk. "Now ladies, if I told you then it wouldn't be a surprise. And you wouldn't want to disappoint the Hosts, would you?" He saw their eyes flash as they each giggled, and raced away screaming about all of the Hosts. His face fell and he raised a hand to his head. Such an act, but at least it had worked. He couldn't be the one to bring the Host Club down.
Tamaki was running late that day. He was not their till the late afternoon. He had a sad smile on his face when he entered the room, apologizing profusely for taking a seat next to Kyouya. The darker haired boy didn't look at him, scared that he would find that same sad look on his face. He already had to live through it, without Tamaki pushing it on him as well. But Tamaki clearly wasn't happy at being ignored. He was slipping notes onto Kyouya's desk, one by one. Most must have come from his math work as they numbers and equations scribbled all over the back. Kyouya ignored them; writing in his notebook whatever had been placed on the board. The notes piled up on his desk until they were overflowing onto his work, distracting him. He grabbed one finally and flipped it open, bring a sharp gasp from Tamaki. He was clearly pleased.
It was my mom. She wants me to visit.
Kyouya read the note a few times through. He brushed his thumb over the paper until the crease had practically disappeared. Finally, he just pushed all the notes into his bag and stood up, calmly walking to the front and speaking with the teacher, saying he had a business meeting. As stated earlier, all the school wanted is for the students to make it look good. A major business head did just that. The teacher nodded and motioned to the door. Kyouya stepped out, never looking at Tamaki.
The feeling was so overwhelming. Kyouya wasn't sure how long he would have survived in that class room. Not with that note on his mind. Not with the fact that Tamaki had two parents left, even if they tended not to get along. He still had a mother to cry to and a father to build him up. He was at this school after all. And here Kyouya was, possibly the most powerful teen in the entire world, without a family. Without love. He walked swiftly through the hallways, past the lunch room with the second years, where three pairs of eyes followed him. He walked until the music room came into sight and settled at the table he was usually at. The next few hours were spent making calls. Kyouya had to get the business started again sometime.
When Haruhi, Hikaru, and Kaoru made their way into the room, Kyouya was still on the phone. He waved a weak hand towards them, pressing the numbers of his mouth into the receiver. The speaker on the other end was not being easy on him and, in complete truth, it was pissing him off. The conversation went back and forth for a few moments more, neither reaching a satisfying conclusion but reaching one nonetheless. The numbers were too high for Kyouya and too low for the other speaker but it would do for the time being. Kyouya bitterly thanked the man, received no response, and hung up. The Host club was on him.
"Mother, you had us worried sick? You do not just walk out like that without an explanation." Tamaki. Kyouya's breath caught in his throat as he finally looked up to see the boy's face. There was hurt in his eyes. He could see the note reflected in his eyes and forced himself away, onto the next face. It was Hikaru, who stood eerily close to Haruhi. He got sight of both their faces. They were babbling something too. Kyouya left his blank and gave a static answer, glancing at a silent Kaoru before settling back into his workplace and typing away at his computer. Mori and Hunni had not arrived yet. It wasn't as if they were actually involved. They were graduated and already starting their lives. Making room for the Host club was difficult still. Kyouya waited, and dreaded, when they would hand in their resignation.
He cleared his throat, sitting quietly as the rest of the Host members glared at him and eventually moved back to their selected chairs and couches. They could hear the rustle of skirts just outside the door, indicating all the girls waiting impatiently outside. The Hosts were practically through pouring their tea when the doors burst open. Tamaki threw up an excited cry. Kyouya gave a quick glance at the door. Hunni and Mori were moving swiftly through the now open doorway. Most of the girls were ogling at Hunni's childlike face. Kyouya yawned and turned back to the computer. He was not going to cry. The sunlight streaming in through the windows was blinding.
As he tried to convince himself of this fact, Kyouya was suddenly drawn out of his thoughts by a pair of two girls. One was dressed in the standard school uniform, yellow dress, white ribbons everywhere. The other was in a dress as well, the same color as the uniforms but inching up above her knees and with no puffy sleeves. This had had clearly been altered to fit the girl's taste. Kyouya raised an eyebrow at the pair while they stood above him with wide, worried eyes. There was a hint of a smile on both girls' faces.
"Kyouya…will you be hosting today?" Kyouya was surprised. After all, one of these girls could very likely be the gossips in the hallway. He formulated a response, trying to come up with the perfect sentence to deliver. He had to keep business going of course. It was the only thing he could focus his mind on. "We're very sorry for your lost." Kyouya froze.
He glanced up at the girls, his eyes now wide, though hardly noticeable. He cautiously glanced over their shoulders to see Tamaki jumping about, mouthing apologetic words to him. His customers looked thoroughly insulted to see him ignoring them and jumping around like an animal. Kyouya frowned and waved a hand towards them, attracting strange looks from the girls in front of him. Tamaki sat back down with a frown and the girls pounced, having already forgotten that he had ignored them for a few seconds. Kyouya nodded his head and shut his laptop, standing up. "Thank you for your condolences. But I can't stay to host today. I have a meeting in an hour that I need to prepare for. Good day, maybe some time in the future." He apologized with a kiss to each of their hands and quickly bowed out, catching snippets from the girls as he left.
"He must be so important! And the money he makes and the businesses he runs!"
"That's the kind of husband my mother wants me to have."
"Well you can get someone else. Kyouya is mine! And so is his big house and diamonds and…"
Kyouya scowled, closing the door before letting the girl finish her sentence. From tears to anger. Kyouya was tired of it. Emotions were useless. They wouldn't bring back any one of those idiots, they wouldn't get to all those meeting nor make so many calls, and they certainly wouldn't help him out in the real world. Sleep, eat, school, work, eat, and sleep. The pattern could continue everyday and no emotions would be brought into the deal. He clenched his teeth and plucked out his cell phone, dialing his driver but saying nothing. The man would get the clue. Kyouya considered smoking while he was out here. But a harsh wind was currently blowing and it would make the experience thoroughly unpleasant. Best to save the cancer sticks for later.
The driver pulled up, opening the door for Kyouya to step in. Kyouya waited, providing no word in response. He waited until the door was being pulled the wrong way on its hinges before stepping in and taking a seat closest to the door. He signaled that he would be returning home and would need the car later. The chauffeur nodded and obediently pulled from the school and drove home. The Host club wouldn't mind another day of Kyouya skipping. They would do fine if he never showed up really. He just handled the finances and brought the customers' moods down. He would discuss removing himself from the action the next day, or whenever he was able to return school. Maybe he would accept the invitation to America after all. A large company was interested in talking about an expansion of the Ootori hospitals. Kyouya had been against the offer at first and now, as a snap decision, he was eager to leave. America, one of the only countries Kyouya had not stepped foot in yet. It would be interesting to embark alone.
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"We have arrived at the gate." It had been a long, cruel week. It had seemed like it would be okay at first. His teachers had been pleased that Kyouya was getting his head into business and immediately gave him the days off. He had used some select words with the Host Club to convince them. All that was left to do was the packing. He and the American contractor had decided on Kyouya's visit being two weeks, plus an extra Saturday. Kyouya hadn't refused. His father had never backed out of a business deal because he didn't have the time.
The only troubling ordeal was the fact that Kaoru showed up on his doorstep the day after he had informed the hosts. The boy wasn't crying right then but he probably was, considering the dark red spots under his eyes. Of course, those were nothing compared to when Kyouya looked at his face and saw the blood surging from his lip and dark spots across his cheek. Kyouya's brow furrowed as he stared at the boy, letting the wind blow across his face. His bottom lip dropped, though only creating a small space between it and the other. And before he knew it, Kyouya had snapped his fingers over his shoulder. The nurses were on Kaoru. Kyouya stepped away, arms over his chest and head down.
The nurses and doctor did most of the question asking for him. Yes, he had been in a fight. No, he couldn't tell them the name of his attacker. No, the other guy had swung first. No, he would not make a police statement. Hell yes, give me those drugs. Kyouya got a word in just before ten o'clock approached. The nurses were chattering amongst themselves and the doctor had returned to the hospital, which he had so graciously left to check over Kaoru. The nurses would leave soon but he doubted they would overhear his conversation anyway.
"Kaoru, that was…unexpected. Are you alright?" Kyouya just saw the cringe that went through Kaoru's body as he asked. He had a large purple bruise spreading across his face and he had just revealed a man's ultimate weakness to Kyouya. Everything inside Kaoru had to be broken. "Excuse me." Kyouya coughed quietly, redirecting the subject. His mind was at a blank for a moment. He stared at the mass of nurses, blinking rapidly. Finally he turned on Kaoru, speaking so softly that his lips barely moved. "It was Hikaru."
"No Kyouya, don't-"
"It was. Why?"
Kaoru made a strangled, helpless noise in the back of his throat. Kyouya looked on with a blank face, waiting for an answer. Kaoru was looking around the room, his gaze darting from one thing to another, though never seeming to get close to Kyouya's face. He took a seat in the closest leather chair, tapping the armrest lightly. His mind was a mix of thoughts, though his face revealed nothing.
Not even twenty-four hours ago Kyouya had announced this trip to the Host Club. And with minimal time left to pack, he was now faced with the problem of Kaoru. And while he was worried for the young man before him, he simply couldn't cancel this trip without risking losing some of his company. No, he would have to sort this matter out and get on the plane two days from now. Kyouya leaned back in the chair, trying not to think about that the twins used to share. "Kaoru…if you'd rather not tell then I can't do much. Feel no need but I must remind you about my trip that I must be preparing for." He hardly noted the iciness in his voice, but fell his bottom lip twitch when Kaoru shuddered once more.
"I'm sorry Kyouya. Tamaki is training with Hunni and Mori and I couldn't run to Haruhi."He trailed off, his voice too low for Kyouya to hear. He motioned to a maid in the corner and whispered something into her ear. She appeared with a glass of coffee for the twin and cautiously passed over. The boy didn't look up before accepting it. It met his lips moments after her fingers slipped away. He continued quietly. "It's not Hikaru's fault. He's sick, to the point of hallucinating. The doctor confirmed that he most likely has pneumonia. He keeps yelling…I can't even see him. But he snuck out and I caught him. He and Haruhi were arguing and I...got in the middle and he hit me…he meant it for her. I don't know what my brother is. We're so similar…am I really going to be like him?"
"Your brother wasn't in his right mind."
"Seems to be every ones' problem lately."
Kyouya ignored the remark and continued in his matter of fact tone. He was becoming more irritated by the second. Yes, this was Kaoru. But did he have the time? No, he did not. "I'm sure he'll apologize tomorrow."
"And that's supposed to be enough for me?" Kaoru was now looking up at Kyouya, his bruise glaring on his face. He seemed shocked, and slightly disgusted. It was difficult to keep his blank face as he stared at those eyes, still fresh with tears, but Kyouya managed it. "That'd be enough for you? If one of your brothers or your dad just came to you one day and was like, sorry for dying, I do love you, sorry for leaving you, sorry for making you so depressed that you can't even understand what you're supposed to feel. We can all see it Kyouya. You're breaking down; you're not hiding it as well as you think you are."
"Go home." Kyouya stood up, pointing a strict digit towards the door. "Maaya! Escort him to the door please. See you in two weeks." He stalked away from the boy, entering his own room and resting on the bed, hand placed protectively over his laptop. He listened to the door shut and watched from the window as the headlights of Kaoru's car disappeared. And finally he broke down.
Tears streamed down his face. He was quick to bury his head in his pillow to muffle the watery sobs. He had never felt this before, never experienced this mind crushing grief, not even when he had lost the other four members of his family. And now, he could imagine nothing hurting more than the pain of Kaoru's words. Because, in all honesty, Kyouya could never imagine them coming back and saying any of it. And knowing and acknowledging that they never cared, was the last straw. He was broken.
Kyouya spent most of the night crying into his pillow, switching out as one became too soaked and began to rub his face raw. No matter what he did, what he thought of, the tears wouldn't be halted. Hours after Kaoru's departure, Kyouya finally managed to slip into a restless sleep. The laptop had slid to the floor sometime over the night and now his hands were constantly searching, trying to find the hunk of plastic to clutch to his chest. He tossed all night, throwing himself around the bed, stray tears still leaking from his eyes. He had the constant reminder that he would leave for America late the next evening. The thought unnerved him as, in his sleep, he recalled the things he had to do in preparation for his trip. At five in the morning, after only two hours of sleep, Kyouya was up again and packing.
His eyes remained half-lidded and his hands moved slow as he reached into drawers, pulling out neatly folded shirts and pants and stowing them into the large two suitcases sitting near his desk. One was filled to the capacity, folders and papers poking out from the sides. Below these items were various cords, electronics, and a delicately wrapped box containing a gift for the elder business man. The maids had delivered it to him the day after scheduling the trip. He wasn't completely sure what lay within, only knowing that it was some type of glassware. It seemed appropriate, especially for the man's wife, supposedly an avid collector of china and glass items. The maids wouldn't do him wrong and he hadn't thought about it since.
Kyouya had quickly closed that suitcase, and began piling items into the second that had been mostly empty before then. He managed to pack the already folded clothes in nicely. Appearances were everything after all, and remained important even after hours of crying and limited sleep. Upon stowing his laptop in the now full suitcase and slipping in a few other essentials, Kyouya closed the suitcase and moved back towards the bed. He would take a day off from school tomorrow to finish packing and get sleep. The maids would not wake him up if the alarm didn't go off. He had, hopefully, been careful enough to not let them hear him but he couldn't be sure. Kyouya yawned, letting his eyes open and close a few times before slipping away, into a sleep. There was no tossing or turning like the two hours before. Kyouya remained in one position, hands tucked beneath his head under the pillow, legs stretched out and overlapping each other, facing the wall that his bed was pressed up against too. There he remained, sleeping through the start of school, through the afternoon, and into the beginning hours of the evening.
There were no more disturbances through the next few days, minus a few worried phone calls from Tamaki. Kyouya finally talked him into leaving him alone and got onto the plane with no thoughts in his head. America was an awful place. The businessman had a huge house located on a street that was filled with beggars, homeless individuals, and dirt. Kyouya had been to underprivileged communities but never one like this. And this man was broadcasting his wealth in this matter. It was even disgusting for him. Business talk went smoothly for the first two days. As Kyouya was walking down the street, intent on picking up an American soft drink he had been introduced to, a man had come up to him begging for money. Kyouya had refused the man money, simply remembering the other man's words that he should never give anyone on the street money. A knife was brought into the fray and Kyouya walked away sporting a black eye, missing his wallet, and his lunch, that of which he had relived himself of in a filthy alley nearby. He staggered back to the man's home. Concern was thrown at him at first but eventually Kyouya became irritated and starting ranting about the man's methods with people on the street. His eyes were both black as he ran from the house, taking with him nothing more than his precious laptop and wallet. His phone was already buried in his pocket.
With its help, Kyouya had located his sister and went immediately to see her. She was shocked at his sudden arrival and shrieked when she saw his condition: pale, both eyes dark as night, and blood streaming out his nose. Kyouya couldn't remember which one of the two had done that to him. Fuyumi ushered him in, hiding him from her children, and quickly managed to clean up. As she wiped the blood from his face he begged her not to call anyone, not Tamaki, not the police, not a doctor, not anyone. It had taken some pleading but she had eventually given up. Kyouya had said nothing more. He dined with his sister and her two young children that night, not managing to stomach anything. Fuyumi covered up his wretching with music for the children and hurried to his side.
"Kyouya you're sick! You have to let me call someone!" Fuyumi brushed his hair off his face as he lay hunched over the toilet.
"No!" he gasped his voice scratchy. It was the first word he had spoken in hours. His eyes were burning, involuntary tears pouring down his cheeks. There was still blood mixed into his dark locks and his face was snow white. There was something seriously wrong but he would rather give up his life than give up his dignity.
"Then you need to sleep. I'm calling someone tomorrow whether you like it or not." She slipped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him to his feet. He stumbled, clipping his hip on the counter. He grunted in pain and let his weight fall onto Fuyumi. He had never felt as vulnerable as he did now.
They moved silently towards the bedroom Fuyumi. Upon seeing various bottles of perfume and pictures of the two children now asleep in the living room, he guessed that it was her own. He couldn't find the strength to object and simple collapsed on the mattress. She wrapped the blankets, not wanting to pull the ones from beneath in fear of disturbing him. He turned away from her. Fuyumi stood there for a moment before moving towards the door.
"What happened to me?" It was Kyouya speaking. Fuyumi turned around, shocked that he was still awake. "I was handling this so well. And now…I'm so lost. I don't know what to do anymore, Fuyumi. Help me." Fuyumi laid next to her youngest brother as he cried. He cried himself to sleep eventually, though Fuyumi waited an hour before leaving. She finally got up to usher her own children to bed and lay down herself on the couch. She heard Kyouya wake up and start sobbing again and sat quietly wondering if she should get up. He was quiet before she could and she slipped into sleep again.
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The next week and five days had been rough. Kyouya was in pain, emotionally and physically most of the time. He rarely ate and was getting thinner by the day. It was only because of Fuyumi that he ate anything at all. She often fed him when the children were at school or at their friends. She knew how much her brother cared about his appearance and would help to preserve as best as she could. Four days after he had stumbled through her door in such a terrible condition, he finally came to the breakfast table. He chewed quietly on his eggs, managing to get some down. The kids brought him into some conversations though he only managed to add in simple replies. Eventually they were off to school and Kyouya and his sister were left alone in the kitchen.
"I want to call Tamaki…" Kyouya spoke quietly. Fuyumi turned to him with a smile on her face.
"That's great. We can ring him up right now. Maybe we can fly him up to see you. Or maybe-"
"…but I'm not going to."
"Oh…why not?"
"He's in France…with his mother. He has hasn't seen her in so long. I can't just call him and take that happiness away."
"Call him before you go home okay?"
"Yeah…we'll see."
"Go on and take a bath or a shower. We have to get you feeling better."
"I don't think that's the problem." His protest was quiet. Fuyumi stared curiously at him, expecting an explanation. But the dark-haired youth simply stood up and moved out of the kitchen. Fuyumi watched him turn down the hall and listened to what she assumed was the bathroom door closing. She sighed and returned to cleaning the dishes.
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Kyouya barely made it into the bathroom before he was throwing the eggs back up. He knew that he should probably go see a doctor but he couldn't risk ruining his reputation, which his two black eyes could destroy in a heartbeat. He turned on the water of the shower as he wretched, attempting to cover the noise. He sat quietly, waiting to hear his sister pounding at the door. When the noise didn't come he peeled off his clothing and began a sorely needed shower. He let the scalding water pound against his scalp until it gave him a headache. He would have no reason to think. But his thoughts came in masses anyway.
It wasn't that he was sick, as in ill. No, he was simply sporting two black eyes and some cuts above and on his torso. But every time he paused to do something that homeless man's face would come to mind. He had the knife pressed his against his throat. And then the face would turn to his father's. The figure would press harder against his throat and…Kyouya always came out of the daydream then and found that he could never hold anything down after experiencing this.
His shower progressed, only amplifying the pain in his head. By the time his shower was done, all Kyouya wanted to do was crawl back into bed. The week progressed like this. Kyouya would eat (usually throwing up the entire meal), shower, and then sleep. The cuts scabbed over and the blackness faded from his face. His eyes were still puffy and dark when he stepped out of Fuyumi's house the night his plane would take off. He had no luggage. It was still at the other man's house. Fuyumi tried to encourage him to take some things but he refused, only accepting her offer of a cab ride.
Kyouya was lucky that he hadn't chosen to fly on his own personal jet, opposed to a public plane. He had no luggage and hence would have no ticket to turn over. The pilot did not question him, though he did a double take at his face. Kyouya cringed and continued walking. The crew instantly bubbled around him trying to run washcloths across his face or press blankets to his shoulders. He accepted a single blanket and moved past the members of the crew to stretch out on the couch. He was out within seconds, comforted by the soft leather opposed to the scratchiness of his sister's quilt.
He was awoken a few times throughout the flight by the crew offering him food or laying more blankets over him. He refused the food and pulled the blankets tighter around him. The pilot came over the intercom every once in a while to make announcements. Kyouya would wake up and roll over with a groan. After he had done this three times, the voice disappeared and did not come back. His dreams passed slowly, a mix of things. He managed to redirect most of his sleeping thoughts to Fuyumi. She was so thoughtful and her children were beautiful. He wished he could've spent happier times with them.
They touched down late to refuel and restock. They were not home yet and Kyouya felt no need to wake up. When they finally did reach their destination the landing was smooth. So smooth that a crew member had to wake Kyouya from his sleep. The man held his breath as he waited, afraid of wakening Kyouya's wrath. But upon opening his eyes Kyouya simply nodded and stood up, stretching. Blood rushed to his head and he was forced to sit down, in fear of collapsing. The plane finally came to a stop and Kyouya got off…only to find a teary-eyed Tamaki waiting for him.
Kyouya hesitated for a moment, staring at the blonde youth. These tears weren't his usual delusional tears. That was his usual 'hurt' face. No, these tears were painful. His face was of horror as he looked on at Kyouya…his friend. It struck him so suddenly that Kyouya could've dissolved into tears right then. But his appearance was important. So he moved, slowly and deliberately towards Tamaki. Their expressions were now matching. Blank. Upon reaching him they both hesitated. Tamaki cringed at a shout for someone else across the way. Kyouya stayed unblinkingly. Finally, Tamaki spoke.
"Welcome back." And Kyouya was tackled in a hug. And before he could help himself tears were pouring from his bruised eyes as he hugged his friend back.
"Thank you…it's good to be…back."
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A/N: Okay, not too good. Sorry. XP I think I should just end it there. I sort of feel like all my stories are stuck and won't go anywhere. I don't know…
