It's been a hot minute, but I'm realizing that writing is really therapeutic! So, I'm going to try and do it more. Also, nathan stop reading my shit it embarrasses me
Mitsuru didn't see Ryota again during her stay. He could've tried to get in and was intercepted by the bodyguards, or maybe he gave up after being interrupted by Kaoru. She decided she didn't care what happened to him. When summer was over, she wanted to ask Kyoya if they had seen any other suspicious people near the pension, but she didn't necessarily want an answer.
And apparently, the Ootori had bigger problems, because as she approached the third music room, surprisingly early, she saw him pulling a letter from between the closed doors.
"Is that a love letter from some of your fans?" She feigned air-quotes as she said 'fans,' and went to peek at it from over his shoulder, but he tucked it under his arm.
He still humored her with a response, though, "Hardly."
Mitsuru smirked, leaning against the wall as he unlocked the club doors, "Ah, well, I don't need to read it to know what it says. Let me guess… Dear Kyoya-senpai, I think it would be a great business move for us to date! I'm wealthy and not so smart, just like you, so we'd get along nicely, too."
She snorted in amusement, so tickled by her own words that she couldn't contain it. Kyoya didn't share this experience, as he pushed the doors open with a straight face.
"If you really want to know what it says, I'll read it to you." He waved the paper a bit, the white paper appearing crisp and pristine.
"You will?" Mitsuru's eyebrows were in her hairline. Was he really going to read some of his fan mail to her?
Kyoya held the letter up to his glasses, "Dear Mitsuru-senpai, I love the way you curse like a sailor, and how your tea tastes like sewage water."
Mitsuru yanked it out of his hands. The page was blank and smelled like citrus. She glared at Kyoya, a bit red in the face.
"I'm getting better at making tea," she grumbled, resisting the urge to destroy the white page.
The Shadow King plucked his letter out of her grasp, looking rather self-content, "Of course."
The rest of the Host Club trickled in, and finding that they had all arrived an hour early, sat down with no intent to work at all.
"At times like these, my dad and I play games," Haruhi offered.
Mitsuru, thinking of her uncle, had a fond grin on her face, "Like Rich Man, Poor Man!"
Tamaki perked up from pushing around a stray strawberry on a plate, "A commoner card game?"
"Yeah, yeah, it's super easy to learn!" Mitsuru leapt out of the loveseat and got her bag, "I think I still have a deck of cards in here from the Christmas Party."
"Don't you ever clean out your stuff?" The twins shook their heads in sync.
"Shut up," she replied, a bit offhand, "Aha! Here it is. Let's play a game! Haruhi, do you know how to explain the rules?"
-:-
"Ha-ha-ha, oh my god." Mitsuru felt like Haruhi had the entire deck in her hands. She was actually quite good at Rich Man, Poor Man, but apparently the only other girl of the Host Club was not.
Haruhi a hopeless look, eyeing her hundreds of cards, "Y-yeah, this is…"
"Even following the commoner rules, you sucked the most at this game. Did you even try?" Hikaru pressed, digging into Haruhi's side with his elbow.
"I've never really been into cards, so I've barely even played before." Haruhi admitted, placing her cards in front of her. Mitsuru had less than half as many, and she wasn't even the rich man.
"Oh, Haru-chan!" Honey had a pitying expression, "Does that mean…?"
Mitsuru leaned over and gave him a pat on the head, "No, it doesn't! Everyone can afford a deck of cards! If I have them, then Haruhi has them."
"Quiet, rabble. Let's calm down." Kyoya had a terrifyingly calm smile, "So, since I won, and you are the destitute, you're my slave for two weeks, right?"
Haruhi had a horrified expression. Mitsuru almost regretted introducing a penalty game, but she felt like it was a little bit of justice. If she had to serve the club's every need (likely for the rest of her life), then why shouldn't someone else experience her pain for a little while?
"Two weeks? Nobody told me it would be that long! I have to work on the school festival!" Haruhi protested.
Tamaki, who had earned the title of 'Poor man' during this game, also objected, "Yeah, that's right! If you want to pick on Haruhi, you have to go through me, first!"
"Shut up, poor man. You're my slave, too." Kyoya rebounded from cracking down on Tamaki to addressing the twins, "Incidentally, what is class 1-A doing for the school festival?"
Mitsuru chose to drown out the conversation, and started gathering up all the cards. When she picked up the queen of hearts, she thought that the art on the card looked a bit like Hisako. She had seen her earlier this morning in homeroom, but was already thinking about when they would hang out again. They were working together on their class's contribution to the school festival. It was absolutely wild how much money people were throwing around just to impress some parents. Though, Mitsuru imagined that there were going to be a lot of important adults in this festival. Out of habit, she wondered how she could remove some rings and necklaces from those pompous jerks.
"Oi, Mitsuru!" One of the twins waved their hands in her face, and when Mitsuru deliberately ignored him, he smacked her in the forehead with a card that stuck itself to her.
She went to punch him, but he danced out of her range. Before she could chase after him, Kyoya's voice broke her focus, and she almost dropped all of the cards she had collected.
"And Mitsuru," When she looked up at him, he had a sinister smile on his face, "You'll be helping me."
"I'll preface this with 'I don't have a choice in the matter,' but yeah, sure. What am I doing?"
The Shadow King stepped closer, and she wanted to back up, but she didn't. When he stood in front of her, he plucked something off of her forehead, and held out an envelope. She felt where the card had been stuck, then whipped her head up to see Kyoya twirling the joker card between the fingers of his free hand. Then, she instinctively reached for the envelope, before pulling back, as if afraid of the thorns of the hefty rose-shaped wax seal.
"What is it?" She questioned, hastily retracting her hands.
The Shadow King persisted, holding out the parcel in her direction, "It's a proclamation. I need you to deliver it to the festival committee."
"Like, a proclamation of love?" Mitsuru had a snarky smile on as she once again went for the envelope.
This time, Kyoya pulled it out of her reach, and she stumbled forward. When she glared at him, he grinned, "It's extremely important. If I wasn't so busy, I'd go myself. So, I'll be very upset if you mess around."
Mitsuru nodded wordlessly, taking the letter with shaky hands. 'Very upset' was definitely code for 'willing to execute you in front of the entire school.'
"What are we saying, exactly?" She prodded.
As the doors opened, their first customers streaming in, Kyoya put a finger to his lips and replied cryptically, "We're declaring war."
-:-
The next day of preparation for the school festival was as wild as the last. Her class was performing a play, something Shakespearean and overly complicated. Mitsuru would be a stagehand, handling the lowering and rising of the curtains, and for that she was grateful. It gave her more time to dedicate to the Host Club, which was going to need all of her help it seemed, because their declaration of war came across perfectly clear.
Mitsuru saw the announcement while helping Hisako, who was playing the main female role, practice her lines. There was a pristine piece of paper being passed around the class, and in its wake were the murmurs and whispers of excited teens.
"And for that name which is no part of thee, umm…" Hisako trailed off, her eyes inching towards her script.
"Take?" Mitsuru offered.
"Oh! And for that name which is no part of thee take all myself."
"Excuse me. Here's the list of those competing for the central salon." The paper fluttered down on top of the script in front of Mitsuru, and she picked it up with the intent to pass it on to someone else, but then something caught her eye.
"Oh," she read it over once, then twice, "Oh no."
Hisako leaned forward, her nose touching the tip of the page, "What's wrong?"
Mitsuru flipped the announcement over with a despondent expression, "I… I don't... "
"Race for the central salon," Hisako read, her dark eyes dancing on the page, "Class 3-B, Basketball Club, Football Club, Ikebana Club, and the… the Host Club!"
-:-
She and Haruhi shared similar grievances. When she arrived at the Music Room, Haruhi was already approaching the president and vice president about the race.
"Of course we're joining the race," Kyoya replied, nonchalantly, "What about it?"
The brunette resigned, her expression a bit hopeless, "Um, nothing."
Mitsuru, on the other hand, was still livid, waving around the announcement as if it were on fire, "Is this going to be as annoying as it seems? What do we have to do to win? A fight? An arm wrestle?"
"As pleased as I am to see that you're prepared to win," Kyoya replied, "Physical violence is not the only way to settle things."
"Last year, the winner was determined by a chess tournament. We lost to the student council during the finals." Honey spoke around a spoonful of flan.
"Not like I care who wins, but that's a surprise," Haruhi noted.
"The son of an important Hitachiin business partner was on the council at the time. Still, we stayed in the race until the finals for PR purposes." Kyoya explained, his tone suggesting that this was normal behavior.
Honey smiled, his cheeks stuffed with dessert, "But this year we're going to win!"
The Shadow King of the Host Club migrated to his bag, the one he had shoved that blank letter into the other day, and spoke with the same light tone, "Yes, but we have a bit of a problem."
In a fluid movement, a barrage of letters and envelopes poured out. A handful fell into Mitsuru's hands, and she noted that they still smelled of citrus. However, these were no longer blank.
"Look, it's not a big deal, but every day, for a week, we've been receiving somewhat hostile letters."
Mitsuru's amber eyes scanned over the document, and when she was finished, she yelled, "KYOYA! THIS IS A BIG PROBLEM!"
With the letters from a magazine, or possibly a well-made newspaper, the paper had a more than 'somewhat hostile' message. It read, 'Withdraw from the salon race, or else!'
"These letters- they're clearly hate mail. You talked to Tamaki and I about finding a culprit, is this what you meant?" Haruhi asked, keeping the paper far from her.
Tamaki had a similarly alarmed response, taking a few steps away from the pile of letters, "Kyoya, why did you neglect the matter until it went this far?"
"It could've been a prank of some sort," Kyoya knelt down and picked up a sealed envelope, peeling it open, "So I ignored it. After the official announcement today though, we received this."
He pulled out the message and placed it down in front of the hosts. Mitsuru blanched. In blocky, black letters, it read, 'Prepare to die.' Tamaki and Haruhi shrieked at the reveal.
"It appears the perpetrator is someone who loses their temper easily. Maybe they aren't taking enough calcium," Completely disregarding the blatant death threat, Kyoya put his chin in his hand and contemplated aloud.
Tamaki snatched the letter up, pointing at its content with his other hand, "You're the one who made them this angry! How could you-!"
The Shadow King turned swiftly, his vehement eyes hidden behind his glasses, "I already said… that I'm sorry."
When Tamaki and Haruhi shrunk back, he continued, "As I said, we'll have to track down the culprit. By the way, we'll never drop out of the race. We will promptly find the originator of this letter and crush him. We'll teach him what it means to cross us."
Then, with a flourish, Kyoya crumbled a letter in his hands, envelope and all, "The fool and his descendants will remember it. Forever!"
When no one immediately said anything, he pointed at Haruhi and Tamaki, who both flinched in time with one another, "If you can't find him, Haruhi, I'll double your debt, and Tamaki; you'll be my slave for the rest of your life."
The two withered, horrified by the person they called their friend, and set to gathering up the letters. Mitsuru had picked one up and had an intense expression as she reread it. The words were all comprised of magazine letters, yet this was not the original copy. Whoever had done this must've used a photocopier to make multiple letters.
"Do you guys get this kind of hate mail often?" She questioned, laying the offending document in Haruhi's hands.
Tamaki responded, his face a bit drained, "We've never received this kind of straightforward threat! Usually when we have conflicts, we address them directly and resolve the issue, but it seems like whoever is sending these is not willing to listen to reason."
"But," one of the twins (Hikaru, Mitsuru thought) added from afar, "we did have a cat burglar steal all of our things once. That's about as hateful as you can get."
Mitsuru opened her mouth to snap back, but Kyoya spoke up first, "And look how far she's come. Let's all get to work, now, shall we?"
It took her thirty minutes, of making and pouring tea before she realized why she thought his statement was so strange. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied him looking through the letters at a table, alone. For a moment, she thought he caught her looking, so she moved on to another guest. But, she still had a strange feeling.
Was Kyoya defending me?
-:-
Eleven days before the festival, Mitsuru found out something about Kyoya that she hadn't known before. It was after club hours, as Haruhi and the others theorized about the mystery letters.
Mitsuru was only vaguely listening, cleaning up some tables with a faraway expression. She was daydreaming, easily whisked away to some alternate reality where she was still a thief, living off of her spoils, and getting a high off of adrenaline and the thrill of the chase. She didn't even really register what the other hosts were doing. In fact, she was so far deep in her mind, she didn't see that the student council had come by to announce their resignation from the race. She did, however, see the Football Club.
She wasn't even entirely sure why they stopped by (perhaps just to antagonize the Host Club), but she paused what she was doing to watch.
"So, this year's race will be a one-on-one duel between the Host Club and the Football Club."
Mitsuru stepped forward, standing by Honey's side. She recognized this guy, Kuze Takeshi. He was a third year student, too, but she wasn't entirely sure why he seemed to hate the Host Club so much.
"What's his deal?" She murmured.
Honey stood on his tiptoes, attempting to whisper to Mitsuru, "He's got a lot of history with Kyo-chan."
"History, huh?" Mitsuru crossed her arms over her chest, "I forget that Kyoya has a life outside of this school building."
"Hey, Ootori!" the president of the Football Club confronted the Shadow King, bizarrely holding an orange, with some bite marks in its skin. "There's this rumor that you guys deliberately threw the chess tournament last year. That true?"
He squeezed the orange in his hand, and continued, "Ever since you beat us at the semifinals, we've been a laughing stock. That story was already an embarrassment, but now it's reached the ears of my fiancée!"
Fiancée? This guy has a fiancée? Mitsuru marveled at whoever was willing to put up with the constant citrus scent this man had to give off.
"That's an unjustified grievance, Kuze. Had people respected you in the first place, no one would laugh at the basis of such a joke." Kyoya's words didn't match his relatively pleasant expression.
Kuze reacted angrily, chewing on the peel of the orange in his hand, causing some juice and possibly drool to drip down his chin and hand. Mitsuru was still bewildered by the fact that he was engaged. Someone was going to marry that man someday, and that was scary.
"What? Are you telling me it's my own fault? Even when you were young, you had some nerve.. Remember when we were in preschool?!" He was practically ranting now, and his orange was a pulpy mess.
"I don't remember what we did when we were kids. Please don't drip on the carpet."
Kuze composed himself rather quickly, and dabbed at his mouth with a handkerchief. However, he was quick to retaliate.
"Hmph… do you think the heir to the great Ootori family should belong to such a carnal club?"
"Uh-oh." Honey pressed his face into Usa-chan.
Mitsuru glanced at him, "What? Is something going on?"
"Oops. Excuse me. You're only a third son," Kuze continued, and Mitsuru saw a flash of something on Kyoya's face, "so no matter how much you try, you can never be the heir to the family, can you? No wonder you lick the crumbs of glory from the boots of the chairman's son."
No matter what Mitsuru had thrown at Kyoya, he didn't seem to crack. He seemed to be made of solid teflon. However, his expression was annoyed, frustrated at the very least. It was the most Mitsuru had ever seen him affected by someone else's words. No wonder Honey was worried.
"Hey." Tamaki had an almost threatening aura, as he stepped between Kuze and Kyoya. "If you have a grudge, settle it in the competition."
"Fine. Let's see how talented the respectable son of our chairman is."
The Football Club scurried out of the music room pretty quickly after that. There was some odd energy left over, like an invisible confrontation was waiting to happen. Mitsuru tried to seamlessly go back into her daydream, but it kept being cut short by Kyoya's expression. It was so strange to see him hurt by someone.
So, his raw spot was his family? What was so bad about being the third son? She understood that he wouldn't inherit anything, but was that really so horrible? It seemed to Mitsuru that he was successful enough on his own. She took a moment to look over at him. That hurt had been wiped away, or rather hidden beneath a mysterious smile, as he chatted with the other hosts. He didn't look her way, and Mitsuru went back to her task.
She didn't think about the event until a few days later. It was a week before the festival, and Kyoya was waiting for Mitsuru outside of her classroom. He looked a bit out of place, as he was clearly in class A and she was in class C.
Hisako was practically attached to her as they were leaving class, when they both spotted him. Looming in the hallway, Mitsuru thought he looked a bit like the harbinger of death, holding a pile of dense-looking paper. Or perhaps that was just her subconscious speaking.
"Ah, Ootori-san," Mitsuru hoped that Hisako couldn't hear her teeth grinding. "What brings you here? Are you lost?"
Kyoya returned her tone, with similarly sinister undertones, "Why, of course not. I came by to escort you to the Music room."
"Oh, well, that's sweet of you. Mitsuru, you go on ahead. I'll see you later!" Hisako beamed, her radiance providing a clear foil to Mitsuru and Kyoya's artificial smiles.
When the redhead was out of earshot, the two students flipped their polite personas.
"What the hell is this? Can't your little errands wait for a few minutes?" Mitsuru whispered, harshly. She made sure to keep her voice low, wary of the other students who might overhear her seemingly uncharacteristic anger.
Kyoya was having none of what she had to say, apparently, because he dumped the heavy pile of papers into her arms with no warning. To keep them from spilling onto the ground, Mitsuru scrambled to snatch them up.
"I need you to compile a series of maps of the entire campus. I've included all the information you'll need, but you'll have to copy them, and organize them."
Mitsuru managed to scan through a few pages, feeling her anger escalate. She already had to work her ass off for the Ootori during club hours, but now, on top of her own preparations for the cultural festival, she had to take on his dirty work, too. She struggled to recall the alley and the comfort he had provided; it was looking a bit hazy behind his shit-eating grin.
"Oh, and I'll need this done by tomorrow."
"TOMORROW?"
She didn't even bother to hide her anger now, with only a few lingering students looking over with vague interest. Mitsuru gripped the stack so tightly that she could see the creases, and feel the pages bend.
"You're only giving me twenty four hours to not only sort through about," She pretended to inspect the stack, "one million papers, organize them according to who knows what, but then take them to a copy machine and sit there and wait for all of those pages to print out?"
"What, is this too much to handle?" Kyoya retorted, his smile sharper than a blade. "Strange that you could handle working with a group of criminals, but hesitate to perform one simple task."
There was a fire in her eyes. She could almost feel the heat of her fury radiating off of her own body. How could she have even thought that Kyoya could maybe be a decent person? How in the world did she believe she could trust him? In that single moment, she wished she had never entrusted him with so many of her secrets and fears. Surely, he was just waiting for the moment that Mitsuru broke, that she caved in to her anger, so that he could blackmail her with all of the information she had allowed him. Well, she wasn't going to cave in now.
"Tomorrow, you said?" Her teeth were probably filed down to the gums by how hard she was grinding them. "Consider it done."
"Good." Kyoya turned to walk away, but stopped to top it all off with, "And don't forget. You still have to serve for the Host Club, even during the cultural festival."
In the back of her skull, the hurt expression he made when Kuze mentioned his family was burning. She had that card, just like Kyoya had his own. She could pull it out and use it at any time, if she needed. Mitsuru chewed on the inside of her cheek. She would just have to suck it up and save that info for a rainy day.
-:-
The very next day it came out that the showdown between the Football Club and the Host Club was going to be physically challenging. Mitsuru looked over the school's paper, brought to the club by Haruhi, and practically laughed in the boys' faces.
"You guys are fucked!" She cackled. She would have clutched her stomach from the strain of intense laughter had she not been carrying the blueprints. "Have you ever even done physical labor?"
"We worked at the pension, remember!" One of the twins protested.
Mitsuru hit him on the top of the head with her stack of paper, "You didn't actually do anything!"
Kyoya was quick to snap back, "Yes, the challenge does require physical prowess. However, it's easy to offset strength with intelligence. Just like how we caught you, Mitsuru."
Her jaw clicked shut as she bit back her response. It was there, waiting. Like a bullet waiting to be loaded into the chamber. 'At least I'm not some useless third son.' It was sitting on the tip of her tongue! Instead of letting her venomous words run wild, Mitsuru slammed the blueprints into his hands, with a generous amount of force. Kyoya looked unfazed.
"Good. I thought you'd bring it to me sooner, but what's that saying? Better late than never?"
He was really testing her, wasn't he? Did he know that she was on the brink of tearing him apart? She barely got any sleep sorting through all the maps, compiling a decent sized stack that encompassed the whole school. However, Mitsuru kept her outward response to a minimum. She said some violently obscene things beneath her breath, and raised her middle fingers to him as forcefully as she could.
"Ah!" Tamaki struck his palm, as though realizing something, "We also have to go over our outfits for the race!"
"Yeah, that's important." One of the twins nodded, his brother following with, "Very important."
"So, what are we wearing?" Mitsuru smirked.
The Host Club grew silent at her inquiry. She was a bit confused, looking between them all at their surprised expressions.
"What?"
"Mitsu-chan, you said 'we'!" Honey looked ready to leap at her with a big hug, but as soon as she realized her folly, she shook her head violently.
"No, no, no, no! I just meant, I'm probably going to be forced into this, right? I mean, I would say I'm one of the more athletically talented people here, so you might need me. But if I don't have to do this stupid race, then I'm just gonna go home." Mitsuru yawned overdramatically, "I have a lot of sleep to catch up on."
"Go ahead. We won't be needing you."
She should have been used to Kyoya's cold tone, but his choice of words made her internally flinch. Who was this person? It was as though as soon as they were in the company of the Host Club, he turned into a different person.
"Great." Her voice was clipped, angry and hard as she stormed out.
She didn't spare any of them a glance or glare when she slammed the doors shut behind her. She understood now. Kyoya was embarrassed by her. Naturally! Who wants to be friends with a lowly little commoner? He wouldn't want his sparkly reputation shat upon by Mitsuru's lack of riches.
As she trekked home, angrily kicking debris as she went, she tried to remember that she still had a weapon. If Kyoya really was going to be embarrassed by her presence, embarrassed by the fact that she wasn't as good as they were, then she was going to find a way to take him down a peg.
-:-
Of course the day went according to plan. The Host Club snatched victory from beneath the Football Club, a nail biter down to the very end. It was broadcasted on every media there was, so Mitsuru couldn't do much to avoid it. It was even being broadcasted in the library, though its sound was muted. Hisako, on the other hand, was beyond thrilled to watch.
"Look, Mitsuru! Ootori-san managed to rescue Haruhi-kun from the pool! Those costumes did look pretty heavy… they must be cold." The redhead commentated, failing to keep her voice to a whisper.
"That's wonderful."
"Ootori-san must've worked really hard to get them ready for the race!"
"Mmm. Most likely."
"He really did look quite heroic, didn't he?"
Mitsuru tried not to let her persona falter as she stopped reading the book in her lap and looked up at Hisako's eager expression. She'd been trying to halt the discussion, but the opportunity to tease was too great to pass up.
"Oh, my! Taking a liking to Ootori-san, huh? So easily swayed, it seems."
She almost expected Hisako to strike her at such heresy; afterall, she was all about Mori and no one else, but the girl simply gave Mitsuru a lost look.
"Huh? Me? No, no, I don't like him; I like Mori-senpai, remember?" She needlessly explained, then hesitated. She looked like she wanted to say something else and Mitsuru could just feel that she wasn't going to like whatever it was.
"I just…" She started, then stopped.
Mitsuru prompted her, "Just?"
"Well, the thing is, I thought… maybe he likes you, Mitsuru?"
Mitsuru was horrified. He was a monster! Sure, things had gotten kind of mushy every once in a while, but she brushed that off as hormones and unfortunate circumstances. She would rather drop out of Ouran than date the likes of him. She hoped she wasn't making too much of a disgusted face, and tried to haughtily laugh.
"What an insane assumption! Ootori-san and I are," She paused. "Acquaintances. Nothing more!"
Hisako didn't look satisfied, "Oh. Well, I think you two might make a good couple! You both have this kind of sophisticated air about you! I know they say opposites attract, but I think birds of a feather flock together, you know?"
'If I really was this person I pretend to be, then you might be right.' Mitsuru kept her thoughts to herself.
"Hisako, sometimes you say the strangest things!" She settled on playing off the whole thing. She couldn't stand thinking about Kyoya at all right now, let alone romantically. He was making her life a living hell and forcing her to do the almost impossible! Maybe he'd cut her some slack with the festival, but even as she thought it, she knew it wasn't a possibility.
-:-
"I have, never in my life, driven a carriage." Is what Mitsuru told them.
That apparently didn't matter. Despite the fact that she'd never really even interacted with a horse besides seeing one in a movie, it was now her duty to steer the most extravagant carriage she'd ever seen. She had barely even stepped off the backstage, as her own class's play came to a close, when the twins intercepted her. They dragged her to the central salon, which was gaudily decorated.
"It's easy!" Honey explained, "The horsey already knows where it wants to go!"
"It's really just for show. Just sit there and don't say anything." Kyoya added.
Mitsuru didn't acknowledge him. He was going to get his, later. Instead, she climbed onto the carriage, and sat with the reins in her lap. They were hard to get her hands around, especially since the puffy sleeves of her costume were so overwhelming. She wasn't even sure why she got one, especially when Kyoya didn't want her associated with the club, but she guessed it was just for appearances. She was basically a faceless driver for today. The horses in front of the carriage seemed just as pleased as she was about this whole process, standing rather eerily still.
"So, how do I get them to… go?" She asked. If this wasn't such an obscure act, she would've been a bit off put by having to ask for help, but again, this was a fucking carriage.
"You need-" Kyoya started, but Mitsuru cut him off, talking over him rather quickly.
"I was talking to Honey-senpai."
Her voice was venomous, and that definitely didn't go over the hosts' heads. Tamaki looked like he was sweating bullets just from her words. Mitsuru didn't look at Kyoya's expression, but she was hoping that he was either in shock or boiling over with rage. Either one was fine.
"Um, just whip the reins, Mitsu-chan. And say, hyaa!"
She gripped the reins tightly, and gave a fake smile to the other hosts.
"Seems easy enough! So, where am I going?"
Kyoya once again, stepped forward, a kind of charted route in his hands. He opened his mouth to begin his explanation, but instead of listening, or even looking over the map, Mitsuru cracked the reins.
"You know what, I think I'll just figure it out!" She kept that fake grin on her face as the carriage lunged forward, and this time, she just had to see Kyoya's expression.
She thought she could see steam rising from his head. His glasses didn't hide his eyes, and if looks could kill, she'd have been dead yesterday. Needless to say, she was pleased with herself.
-:-
The route was rather basic. She genuinely didn't need a map to figure out where to go. Mitsuru let the horses follow a simple loop around the central salon, and when she arrived back at where she started, she acted like she hadn't just metaphorically spat in Kyoya's face.
"So, let's get started with the parade, hm?"
The twins, as well as Tamaki, were the only ones waiting for her, with horrified and concerned expressions.
"Kyoya's going to kill you if you mess today up," One of the twins stated as he climbed into the carriage.
"Yeah, well, he's not driving a big-ass fucking carriage, is he?" Mitsuru snapped back, still wearing a false smile. "I think I'll be okay."
Tamaki was not as amused. He looked at her with a stern expression she hadn't seen before.
"Mitsuru, please. You're acting incredibly vulgar."
Instead of responding, Mitsuru cracked the reins once more, causing the carriage to pull, and Tamaki fell back against his seat.
"Don't worry, Prince Tamaki. I'm not out for blood. Let's just entertain some old folk and forget about grudges."
She was able to hold a rather neutral expression during the whole ride. They picked up some students, alongside their parents, enroute, and Mitsuru tried to drown out the hosts' blatant acting. She focused on the horses in front of her, and the street beneath their hooves. The clicking noises their shoes made were pleasant on the ears, and Mitsuru didn't think about Kyoya once.
That is, until she pulled back up to the central salon, and saw him waiting. He, Haruhi, Mori, and Honey stood off to the side as the current passengers piled out. Kaoru gave Mitsuru a pat on the shoulder, as though to wish her good luck, and she reinforced a wide grin on her face.
Unfortunately for her, Kyoya sat facing her back. If there hadn't been cushions behind her, she might've felt literal daggers in her spine from his glare. She sat on the very edge of her seat, inching away from the essence of the Shadow King. She wasn't going to let him bother her anymore than he already had. It was her turn to torment him today, and she was going to have fun doing it.
However, their first passengers were Hisako and her parents. She was all aglow, no longer wearing her play costume, but now donning a designer sundress. Her parents weren't looking too bad, either. Her mother shined, with radiant red hair, just like her daughter. Hisako's father appeared like a man who would kill in cold blood for his family; Mitsuru liked him instantly.
As the horses came to a stop in front of the family, Mitsuru turned in her seat and greeted them, "Hello, Hisako! Enjoying the festivities, I hope? It sure is a lovely day for it." She could practically hear Haruhi's eyes roll, but stuck to her act.
"Ah, and you must be Hisako's lovely parents! It's so nice to meet you. I'm Yamasaki Mitsuru." She offered them a dazzling smiling, one that she had practiced in the mirror.
"What a charming young lady!" Mrs. Ito cooed, her voice soft like silk. "It's such a pleasure. We've heard all about you!"
Mr. Ito placed a firm hand on Mitsuru's shoulder, his grip like iron, "Thank you for taking care of our sweet Hisako."
Said redhead's cheeks were aflame, "Daaa-d! C'mon…"
"And who are all of these handsome young men?" Mrs. Ito was already bewitched.
Mitsuru went to go back to the reigns, but decided to glance at Kyoya. He was busy playing the Ito's like cards, faking a smile that could've rivaled her own. Before he could try and kill her with a glare, she cracked the reigns and the carriage slowly trudged forward. Maybe she'd leave him alone for a bit. She didn't want Hisako's parents to get the wrong impression of her (that is, a genuine look at her true character).
"So, what exactly does the host club specialize in? My daughter's given me so few details." Mr. Ito asked, politely starting up small talk.
If Mitsuru was going to be entirely honest, being cruel to Kyoya had been more than blissful. The expression on his face earlier had added about thirty years onto her life. It would be dangerous if she tried to keep this up, however, so after the ride, perhaps she'd just leave him be, and in turn, he might do the same.
Kyoya must've spoonfed something sickly sweet to the Ito's because Mrs. Ito was giggling. "Oh my! What a lovely idea for a club!" She praised.
Geez. He already had a big head. She didn't need to give him any more credit. He was the mastermind of a single club; a club that wasn't exactly what Mitsuru would call appropriate for high schoolers.
Honey's sweet voice cut through Mitsuru's thoughts, "Ah, Hisa-chan! What is the garden club doing for the festival?"
"It's going well, senpai. For today, we've provided all the flowers for the other events. It's been quite humbling!" Mitsuru could hear Hisako's smile, and her pride.
"Wow!" Honey cooed, "Hisa-chan is such a hard worker! Right, Takashi?"
Mori grunted, adding a soft, "Yes. She is."
Mitsuru imagined the look on Hisako's face, not risking a peek behind her. She was probably pink in the face, bashfully smiling at her feet, overcome with joy. Mitsuru wished she had eyes in the back of her skull so she could see that happiness. Hisako deserved it. She basically collapsed into a puddle whenever Mori even glanced her way, so to have him acknowledge her efforts must be something monumental.
Hisako sounded a bit off guard as she lightheartedly giggled, "T-thank you."
"She must've learned from her mama and papa!" Honey was laying it on pretty thick. Mitsuru had to give it to him; he was good at his job.
"Yes, our little girl has always been our pride and joy." And Mr. Ito was taking the bait like a pro!
The rest of the ride was basically Honey charming the pants off of Hisako and her parents. When they stopped in front of the central salon's entrance, Mitsuru felt certain that things had turned out pretty well. That is, until everyone exited the carriage except for Kyoya. Mitsuru didn't know what to do, so she looked over the side of the carriage to see if any more hosts were waiting to board. There were none.
Internally, she groaned. She might as well bite the bullet and sit through whatever scolding he had in store. Whatever he had prepared was going to sting. However, she'd had her fun, and it was only fair that she pretended to listen to what Kyoya had to say.
In retrospect, she hadn't really done anything too horrible… just ignore him. For comparison, he had piled on a bunch of unnecessary tasks (like, what was that map even for?!), and seemingly excommunicated her because she wasn't rich. So, she had a right to act the way she did, right? And she hadn't even used her ace in the hole. Hadn't even gotten her revenge. Yet.
Thus, Mitsuru settled on playing stupid. "Is there something you need, Ootori-san? The parade is over."
Kyoya's smile was beyond fake, which meant Mitsuru had accomplished her goal and made him mad. In her mind, she laughed in his face, 'Don't like the taste of your own medicine?'
"Perhaps you forget that I'm still your employer, Yamasaki-san. Or, maybe you are curious to learn what it's like in a prison cell."
Mitsuru kept her lips sealed. She just had to stay quiet for a few minutes… that's all.
"This club is an investment of mine. And I care very deeply about my investments. If something had gone wrong, you would've been held responsible. You're lucky that everything worked out as I had planned, or else," Kyoya's fake smile took a cold turn, and his voice was like a sharp icicle, stabbing deep into Mitsuru's chest, "I would ensure you never get to see your sister again."
Oh, that's it.
"WHAT? No, no, no. Sorry, you're totally right, I'm just a stupid, poor girl who should just follow your orders, right? So, what should I do, Ootori-sama? Should I get down on my hands and knees and beg for your mercy? Should I carry you to the dance party so you don't break a sweat?" Mitsuru didn't realize it, but she was standing now, over Kyoya, who kept a smile on his face, though his own anger was clear in his eyes. "Or, you know what, maybe I should just stay out of sight so I don't fuck up the Host Club's precious image."
He seemed to be calculating a response, but Mitsuru was blinded, so livid with his words, that she decided that she wouldn't give him the chance to say anything.
"Aww, did I hurt your feelings? No, that can't be possible since you don't have any. The fucking Shadow King is right, you heartless prick." Now, she let out a humorless laugh, a bark of disbelief. "I honestly thought that you and I were friends, or, or at the very least, friendly, but no, you don't care about anyone. You just want to have all the blackmail material you can, on everyone around you, so you can manipulate them into doing what you want."
"You have-" He was gathering himself, preparing something to say, but she was on a roll and she wasn't about to stop.
"I can't exactly help that I'm poor, you know. I'm not like you fucking assholes; I bust my ass for the bare necessities, and you know what, I know I have to work for you. I know nothing is going to change that, but if you're embarrassed of me, then just say it to my face, you bastard! Don't lie to me and hide me in the background, just say it and I'll stay the fuck out of your way!"
As soon as she finished, Mitsuru shoved Kyoya away from her, as well as tossing the reins into his chest. It was hardly the most violent thing she could have done, but it got him away from her, and gave her a clear path to leave. She didn't have the time to stop and catch her breath, to savour in whatever distasteful expression Kyoya was making. She had noticed that she was beginning to become so angry that it was translating into tears. They hadn't fallen yet, but she needed to split before they could.
She was probably going to be publicly flogged for that, but it was completely worth it, and justified. It felt so good to get it all out. Mitsuru thought that perhaps Kyoya might try and stop her: scold her and arrest her on the spot, but luckily, he had some more sense than that, and she left.
Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing! It blows my mind that people enjoy my writing projects; so thank you for all of your support!
To Emma Kingfisher:
hwat
To Shadow Spears:
Sooooo... is two years too much of a waiting period, lol
To veronicatolisano:
Am I right? It's always his kind of character that gets me
To bored411:
Eeek. Again, two years long enough for everyone?
