X.x Ugh! I'm so sorry! I finaaaaaaaaally updated and I promise, it'll be worth it :DDD And, my Microsoft Word still isn't working so sorry for any mistakes anyone runs into T.T (THIS CHAPTER IS CRAZY LONG! But definitely worth it :DDD)
Kyouya's Log
April 27th, 2007--
Why am I like this? For a person who's calculated every move to precision, sometimes my own action perplexes me; this shouldn't bother me. This shouldn't bother me. Yet, my counterpart knows it has. Sometimes it scares me how much like me she can be.
But this shouldn't bother me.
This shouldn't bother me.
Dammit! Why is this bothering me?
I've never wanted to embrace someone
or kill someone
as much as I want to right now.
Relax. That's what my better half always tells me.
You know, I've never thought I'd be entangled in a love rectangle; it always sounded cliche to me.
Rose petals airlessly drifted across the room as the scent of cakes and fake love wafted throughout the atmosphere. Young ladies melted into a puddle of mush at the preordered smiles and mad lib type compliments; young men hide their true emotions enough to dazzle these trophy wives. Oh, yes, they were all fake. Yet, fake happiness is as benefitial as the real thing, ne? When entrapped in a world full of trophy husbands and wives, it's hard to be a natural--a Fujioka Haruhi--but, hey, what can you do; worlds are all occupied by perfect little lies. That was the basis of this club, anyway.
And, thus, the Host Club was open for another day of business.
No themes today, oh no, when you are blessed with such rare weather it doesn't need to be spoiled with gaudy themes. It was rainy, for once. Gray clouds shrouded the sky, all judgement, and each customer's mind; rainy days can be romantic, or tragic, it depends on your outlook. But, these were Hosts, so to them it had to be romantic.
Instead of a vast amount of scenes--whether it be twin love or Loli-shota love--occupying the scene, gossip and chattering of young ladies acting like even younger ladies commenced. No twincest here, it's the gossip corner. What was perculiar was that most of the customers had strayed from the other Hosts and focused on a specific two.
The dual Hitachiins hadn't even tried to bring upon the brotherly love act; with the miniscule amount of customers they had that day, they were all talking.
"They're married?!"
"We know! We were shocked when we found out too!"
"Now they're really Oka-san and Otou-san, ne Kaoru?"
Hunny's consumption of cake was lacking--granted, he still ate a healthy amount, but not the towering amount as usual; Mori-senpai stood as stoic as ever, needed as more of a listening ear than anything else.
"That's so cute!"
"I know! Kyou-chan and Tama-chan make a cute couple; don't you think so Takashi?"
"Ah."
The Natural Type wasn't the typical girl, obviously; gossip wasn't something that interested her all that much. Of course, the he/she could've faked her way through a conversation anytime but different thoughts ran amok in her mind; a heavy law case was awaiting Haruhi at home and--
"Don't worry about it Haruhi"
Why didn't that seem right? Natural. Cold hearted nature and tendecies were common for the Shadow King, but that seemed slightly askew, even for that mysterious figure. Who could be that, that, venemous? That much of a bastard. Nothing Haruhi could say now; she was probably overanalyzing the situation and replacing her anxiety for that law case with a new, unneeded, anxiety.
"That's the life they chose."
It wasn't right.
It wasn't right.
"Haru-kun?" peeping customers--though few there were--tipped their heads to the side as the questioned the dazing off Host. "Are you alright? You seem a little off." Like glass shattered, the girl broke from her hypnotic daze and quickly dusted herself off; time to activate that winning smile. "Ah, it's fine; I just think I'm going to finish up some work." The customers seemed to understand, luckily, but, unfortunately, Fujioka-san had forgotten her laptop; maybe she could borrow Kyouya's.
A group of geese is called a gaggle; a group of fangirls is called an overactive embarrasment, nonetheless, they surrounded the two married gentlemen as if they were paparazzi targets--which they used to be. It's easier to display your true personality when it is deemed appropriate--the "norm"; no need to mask waves of ecstasy as bonds between good friends; no need to pass staring off as dazing, unaware of where your eyes rested; no need to lie.
Anymore.
Both parts of the power couple dressed alike, adorning the same outfit the idiot counterpart had worn the previous day. The customers didn't seem to mind; the outfit choice made it seem like one of them was an Antonio Banderas figure who would jump to the rescue of a beautiful damsel in distress...then go make-out with his significant other. Sitting wise, their stature was more embelished than usual; Kyouya crossed his legs while Tamaki placed a piano player's hand on the Shadow King's thigh in a strategtic place; subtle yet affective. What was the most pleasurable from this situation--the one trait that topped all the others--was that there was no need to exceed expectations and dazzle these overzealous women; fortunately, the ladies were gathering more enjoyment watching the two men flirt with each other.
"Ah, Kyouya, you look so cute in that outfit," the blonde king cooed to his queen. Picking up a move from the seme twin, elegant, paper thin fingers based themselves at the bottom of the neck and seductively moved forward, where they gently touched the tip of the shorter man's chin. Rushed, haphazardly, the Shadow King tore his chin away from his seducer and gave an annoyed grunt, "Tamaki, this is not the time."
Oh, right, business hours.
Granted, the blonde may be an idiot but he did know which buttons to press; the Princely Type knew when his queen was covering up for the sake of business. Perhaps charming words will mend the situation? French chocolate? A serenade from the piano? Or maybe pleasures of a more sensual kind.
Without uttering a word--nor an apology--Tamaki leaned in (as did the fangirls) and in smooth, uninterrupted motions, began to nuzzle the onix eyed Host's neck. As the former schoolgirls screamed in fits of excitement, the business man sharply turned his head to the side. "T-T-Tamaki..." Try to cover it all you want Ootori Kyouya, you know you're enjoying this; the light blush that spread across the pale skin like sin confirmed that thought.
What can I say, Tamaki can push buttons.
And that's when they locked.
Not lips, not hands, not skin covered body parts; grey optics filled with cold intentions met upon brown optics from across the room, always filled with innocence. Of course, Haruhi was looking at the scene along with the others so it's no surprise their eyes met.
"You certainly worked hard on this."
"Well--I--You..." blush spread like rapid fire as a nervous chuckle escaped.
"Well, thank you for all you've done; it is romantic."
"I only wanted the best for you; you and you only."
Sting.
Burn.
Why?
"Kyouya-senpai?"
Inquisitive words broke the train of thought.
Adjusting his body--having a drop dead gorgeous blonde nuzzling you can get tiring after a while--the Cool Type moved his glasses, catching a glint. That was always one of Kyouya's habits; it wasn't surprising. Taking on that monotone I-didn't-just-get-molested-by-my-husband voice, a reply was heard, "Ah, yes, what is it?"
So formal, yet seemingly so touchy, Kyouya's tone never seemed to bother Haruhi--it was something you'd get used to--the girl furthered her request. "I need to check something regarding work"--no need to be too descriptive--"May I borrow your laptop?"
Maybe if he wasn't getting molested.
Maybe if he wasn't being drowned out by squeals.
Maybe if he had just thought.
Kyouya would've said no.
Alas, he didn't.
"Go ahead Haruhi, it's in the connecting room; everything is set up." Of course, as the business man he is, the Shadow King must be prepared to record all the profit and work with it on his laptop. Thus, the Natural Type gave her thank yous and excuse mes as she left the room to journey into the connecting room, ah the memories. Lights were low, all light came from the windows, as rays gently floated over the antique furniture, the aquarium, the piano; once a dwelling place where Tamaki wasted his talent playing at the request of a sophisticate french girl was now covered in a light film of dust. Aside from the furniture described, was a table with the laptop, and many cords exiting it; so many things went to so many objects--half of which Haruhi couldn't identify--it was all too confusing; all the Fujioka could recognize was the laptop and a printer attachment.
The chair beside the desk soon occupied a very work-minded young he/she; sure, she had had her fun and games but it was time to work. Taking hold of the mouse attached, click.
"Password please."
"Figures," a sigh of annoyment was released from the brunette.
"Password please."
"I guess I should ask Kyouya-sen--"
"PASSWORD PLEASE!"
At this point, evasive action must be taken; the laptop had gone crazy, it seemed. This block of cold metal started beeping, buzzing,--and if possible--beeping. In order to contain this before it explodes--hey, this was Kyouya's laptop; anything could happen--the Natural Type started to type in passwords; anything for that matter.
"Money!"
Denied.
"Big business!"
Denied.
"Notebook!"
Denied, bitch.
"What do I type?! It's like it's expecting some ridiculous answer like"--and as the answer escaped her lips, these words she did type--"DEATHNOTE!"
Accepted.
Wow. Just wow. Now it's perfectly clear why Kyouya kept that notebook so close to him...
The turn of events was odd, of course, but at least now some work could be done; I swear, give Haruhi aliens from space and she'd worry about the condition of her home, the girl isn't spontaneous! The Natural Type has the Shadow King's laptop in her possesion; a world of knowledge in your hands, too bad it's wasted on this boring Host.
It had only taken about 45 minutes for Haruhi to do her work, check her email, etc. before the Host had realized there was no need to use the laptop anymore. Of course, Haruhi has never been adventurous but like every other human being, there has always been an inquisitive spark. One little peek wouldn't hurt, right? Besides, all his files would probably be about billing or profit--nothing that could really hurt to take a look at, ne?
Let the surfing commence!
Through word documents mentioning business inflation to pie charts about progress and through very raunchy wedding night pictures, the Natural Type had seen it all--unwillingly, unfortunately. Nothing had caught her eye, thus there was nothing more to do. Exiting the numerous windows, as boring as the task sounds it was difficult to make sure everything was in its proper place, a folder actually caught the young lawyer's eye. Among the paperwork regarding rich bastards and big business, one folder was askew; named differently from the other.
'Father.'
For a desolate king, alone in his own little demented world; for a ice hearted man who didn't sheed a tear at the mention of the death of his father, this folder seemed slightly misplaced. Yet, the uniqueness of it and the vague amount of capabilities it could contain were like the forbidden fruit to Fujioka Haruhi.
Nervous thoughts pondered and nipped away at the puzzled Host; what to do, what to do. "...It wouldn't hurt, besides, I haven't heard the full perspective of the deaths so maybe this will clear some things up," rationalized vocals verbalized reasons why she should open the folder.
Like I said before, Haruhi wasn't one of Japan's greatest lawyers for nothing; convincing herself that this was the right thing to do was simple. At the slow motion double-click of the icon, a new window popped listing three documents: one named 'transcription', one named 'details' and one named 'cease and desist'.
First one explored, transcription.
Long text absorbed the page into a vortex of a large vocabulary only a scholar would have enough patience to sort through; no wonder Tamaki never looked in Kyouya's laptop. Chocolate eyes were glued to the screen, reading every word searching for a deeper meaning.
"What?"
Now frantic eyes lingered onto the page.
"This can't be..."
Now frantic eyes ran on the page.
"No, but..."
Now frantic eyes were jumping all over the page.
I'm going to be straightforward; no sugarcoating, no skipping words. On that page lay something you can't evade, for what Fujioka Haruhi saw was a sight not meant for anyone's eyes; horrible, deceitful, detestful, unbelievable.
The text seem to be a report of some port, all addressed to Ootori-sama (Kyouya) from an unknown source. On one side of the paper there were the words 'Amount Due' and next to those words were the numerical amount of 800,000 yen.
On the left side, there were words that said 'Amount Paid', next to those words was the figure of 900,000 yen.
Then, there was a check mark next to a box labeled 'Task Progress'.
Finally, there was the summary.
The summary read as follows:
Ootori-sama, the task you have requested has been completed. No traces have been left and all the witnesses have been cleared. The plan went accordingly and we have received the payment. Thank you for the generous bonus and we hope we may further serve you in the future.
These words were like binary code: lacking understanding and able to cause a bigger spark of curiousity. A fwe possibilities of what this document really meant ran rapid in the Natural Type's cranium, but she denied most of them. It was one document. Just one. That didn't mean anything. However, to better put her mind at rest, Haruhi clicked on the file labeled 'cease and desist'. As another window popped up--filled with shorter text--the words went as followed:
Attention all media outlets!
I, Ootori Kyouya, am personally addressing all of you as a warning; this tragic event must be kept under control. The Ootori and Suoh families do not want to be bothered and pestered with stories about the death of their fathers. Anything to be run is to first go by me; failure to do so will result in legal action to the fullest extent of the law. Our private police is no joking matter. So, ladies and gentlemen, heed my warning for if you don't, you may not be able to return to Japan.
Harsh.
Manipulative.
Straight forward.
All of the Shadow King's tactics, but why? You can understand why a family wouldn't want to be pestered by the media over the death of a loved one, but, if that was the case, then why would Kyouya want all the stories to be looked over by him first. He could've just said that no stories would be allowed and that would be the end of it. So, why the restriction?
"Is he trying to cover something up?" the realization had hit Haruhi, hard.
But it wasn't until she read the last document that Haruhi figured out the truth.
----------------------------------------------------
Outside the room of mysteries and secrets, the rest of the Hosts conversed with their guests in the Third Music Room. By this time, the customers had spread out to their usual groups; it wasn't because the King and Queen were boring, it was just that Kyouya finally got Tamaki off him and had slightly dozed off--it was kind of cute when you think about it. The Shadow King's head slumped onto the Princely Type's shoulder as the blonde smiled and ran his fingers through the shorter man's hair while talking silently to guests. However, in Kyouya's dreams, it wasn't this happy.
I say dreams, it was more of a flashback.
"You have to do this Kyouya."
"What? This is madness; it's surely to cause a huge scandal and will be unable to be covered up."
"Think about it, father would never except your marriage to that idiot; you'll be disowned. And being that that Suoh kid's grandmother already has disowned him, with his father disowning him as well, he will be poor; both of you will have nothing."
"But--"
"Listen to us Kyouya, we're your brothers; we know what's best. As much as we'd like to help you if you get disowned, you must realize the risk that brings upon us, so we just can't do that."
"You can either sit by and watch all you work for fly by you in an instance or you can do this, gain the company, and not have to worry about the judgement of your love."
"...Fine; I'll do it."
An Ootori never snaps out of a dream, even a bad one; they stir.
So stir Kyouya did, only to be greeted by Tamaki's smile and kind words; perfect gentlemen behavior. "Ah, you're awake; it's rare of you to sleep in, are you alright?" came inquistive words of support and care. Nodding and giving a light, feather like smile, Kyouya sleepily replied, "Yeah, I'm fine." Which was then followed by an after sleep yawn. Haruhi had been in that room for quite a while but it wasn't until sounds of slight screeches and movement caught the Cool Tyoe's ear.
She was trying to print something.
Figuring that the Natural Type would never dare to intrude on his documents and print them out, the male guessed that the he/she was printing out one of his/her's files and might need some help. Standing as if he hadn't just woke up, the onix eyed man gave a slight bow and excused himself from the group.
The calm before a storm would've been a relief in this situation.
Ootori Kyouya entered that room, closed that door behind him and arrived to a Fujioka Haruhi, next to the window, looking in awe at the documents in her hand.
"I see you didn't have any trouble with the printer, well in that case I'll be going--"
"Why?"
Before the pale legs of the Shadow King could sashay out of that room in perfect harmony, a halt, a pause, a block in the road appear. Haruhi hadn't turned away, strayed away as those deathly words escaped her lips. Kyouya, unaware of her current distress, gave an befuddled response, "What do you mean, Haruhi?"
The Natural Type always had a way of rationalizing Kyouya's thoughts and actions; finding a reason to why he did the things he did. But this was insane, impossible to explain! How could someone be so malicious? Vindictive?
How could someone kill two people?
One being their father.
It was unforgivable.
Words couldn't express these mixtures of emotions; they couldn't give an answer. Thus, action was necessary. Talking slow, slothish, strides the Host relocated herself next to the cynical murder she knew as Kyouya. All she had to do was hold of the papers; the printed documents of what Haruhi read.
Eyes widened, in disbelief. How did she find out? How the hell after all these years was she able to waltz right into Kyouya's life and ruin everything, again.
Dammit
The light catching his glasses, the Ootori heir was no longer playing along; no commoner would mangle his documents and go unpunished. Doesn't matter if it is Haruhi. Taking a step forward, hand on hip in ultimate intimidation stance, the heir stated, "Haruhi you know you are to never look at my personal belongings." The midnight haired Host reached for the papers and latched onto them in a calm fashion, but the brown haired Host clenched them tighter; she wasn't letting go.
"How could you do this?" fear and bewilderment lingered in her voice.
"I have my reasons--"
Once again, cut off.
"He's your father! And Tamaki's father was the only relative he had left!"
Beast.
Nonhuman.
Manical.
"When in the business world--"
"This is insane Kyouya!"--no need for honorifics now--"How could you do this? Have you lost your mind--"
"ENOUGH!"
Silence.
He had cut her off this time.
And for the first time in ten years, Kyouya had snapped.
The Cool Type had lost his cool, and all hell broke loose.
"Dammit Haruhi, you've always ruined everything for me!" he clenched the papers harder, his knuckles turning white.
As two entities moved towards each other and became one,
peeping eyes at the door bulged.
Alright, Haruhi needed to be the calm one right now; no need to ask what he meant, that would only make the situation worse. Lopsing the voice volume, yet maintaining a stoic face worthy of the Wild Type himself, the young lady proceeded.
"I don't know what could have possessed you to do this, but that doesn't make it right."
Time to reflect; there was a pause not out of awkward silence but just as a place where they could both catch their breath and calm down.
"I need to tell Tamaki."
What?!
Eyes that were widened now bulged in utter madness; Haruhi couldn't do this to Kyouya, the marriage would fall apart. The man that the Shadow King had longed for all his life was finally his belonging, and now this idiot was going to take Tamaki away from him!
Again.
No, no, no! This was not going to happen, Kyouya had had enough! If he could destroy his father, then this would be a piece of cake.
The pale, lifeless, hand of the Cool Type let go of the papers; seeing this as a sign of retreat, the Natural Type took a sigh of relief. Kyouya is manipulative and cunning, he always has a secret plan.
"I can't let you do that, Haruhi."
That brunette hair bobbed up in shock; what was he going to do? Instead of words, a sound of questioning came from the petite lady's mouth.
"You will not ruin what I've created."
Two hands relocated theirselves at Haruhi's elbow.
"You will not destroy what I've worked for."
Two hands moved up to Haruhi's shoulders.
"You will not ruin my life."
They moved upward, next to the neck.
"You will not ruin my lie!"
Clench.
Grab.
Also known as choking.
------------------------------------------------------------
Those two had been missing for a while, everyone was at ends as to what Haruhi and Kyouya were up to.
"Hmm, Haru-kun and Kyou-kun had been there for a long time..."
"Yeah, I'll go check on them."
------------------------------------------------------------------------A Host left their location and paced themselves to the room, unaware of what waited before them.
Why did her arms have to be so short? Why did Haruhi have to be such a girl? The length of Kyouya's arms, attached to the hands which were taking their revenge on her neck, were too long for Haruhi to reach, to stop. Desprite sounds of pleading were trying to be released but they couldn't form into words, or even syllables.
This was it.
No more Haruhi to ruin his plans.
He got to wring her pretty little neck.
Her face started turning pale, and arms that were trying and trying to stop their attacker started to go limp and give up hope.
Life.
One step after another, the Host approached the room and turned the knob.
Greeted by this site.
"KYOUYA!"