Warning: A little drastic
.~*~*~*~.
The world is a frivolous place. There is no actual purpose nor value in it, but we keep trying to find some. We invent morals and values for us and others, and believe in them so strongly, so passionately that we become asinine. Wasn't it so about the ancients, who believed their prayers were the reason the sun rose and set, that rains and snows graced the nature only because they did their special, sacred dance on the full moon?
We, humans, are ridiculous and senseless like that. We try to connect ourselves to the world so ludicrously that we end up being laughable for our future generations. We fault each other and we fall from the towers of imaginary meanings we've built. We become so overwhelmed by our own purposes that nothing else matters. We stop seeing the world and our own absurd. We stop noticing that this world is an empty place - a clean canvas. We can paint whatever we want on it, but we choose to draw horrid borders and grotesque pain.
We don't realize that this place doesn't have the actuality and happiness we so strive to achieve. The happiness is inside our minds. It's hidden somewhere very deep, far away, so we can never reach it unless we destroy all the walls of our mind and dissolve our essence. The world itself doesn't have values, we do. And those values are nowhere but in our minds, though most likely floating on the surface, as we deem to bring them up always and whenever we feel threatened with something unfamiliar.
Something that seems familiar but is slightly different rises repulsion in our brains. We feel disgusted and threatened, because something is so familiar that we can relate to it, and so different that sets us apart from it. That is what an uncanny is. That is what Haruhi was experiencing. Her world was shuttered. Her values were taken from her, because her mind didn't want to comply anymore. Her mind realized how useless the world was and how unworthy her efforts were.
Suddenly, very unexpectedly, the world stopped existing, and Haruhi realized that she was living in her own imagination. Was that kind of world worthy of our efforts? Did it deserve to be fought for? Could we function if we knew the world was just an electromagnetic wave transmitting to our brains?
The light was rippling as if it was stormed water in a mountain lake. The light was too bright, and the colours were indistinguishable. Her mind suddenly became very awake. Her body was still trying to adjust. The air was too strong. It was more than she could breath at once and she wanted all of it. She sucked the air like a depraved child sucks happiness from his new parents.
She felt a hard slap on her face, and then her nose got pinched and someone blew sweet oxygen right into her mouth, it rushed through her cords heading to her lungs and she coughed. She felt the water leave her body, and she could gasp for more air.
She opened her eyes. Cold like winter snow and fiery like quicksilver - pair of grey eyes looked down into her essence, the kind that resembles the sky during the thunderstorm. The man hovering over her was Kyoya Ootori. His hair and clothing were wet, and his face looked frantic and feverish. Seeing her opened eyes, he took a breath relieved.
"You are alive," he mumbled, pressing his hand against his forehead.
Was she? Was she alive? How do you determine living, someone's aliveness? How do you decide that something ended forever?
Was she dead or alive? Maybe both?
.~*~*~*~.
"I said already," Kyoya Ootori sighed, shifting his cellphone, "I hate that bitch, and I will not come to the meeting."
There was a long pause, and he suspected that the person on the other side of the life turned off his phone. He turned left and continued driving at the same slow speed. There was a short ruffling and a person started to explain something to him.
"I don't care about that," he said frustrated, "If my father wants me to get married to her, he needs to ask me nicely, then I might consider."
He threw the phone to the backseat and sped up the car. His head hurt from the amount of paperwork he had to view, and he couldn't even sleep for 3 nights straight because of the financial audit that took place today in the office. Finally, it was over, and he could rest a little, but his father insisted on making things harder for him. He needed to meet his fiancee, some dumb bitch, he hated with passion.
She incited such revolting emotions in him that just sight of her was enough to make him lose his cool temper. His life was some weird circus, and he hated it. He was one of the puppets his father loved to pull the strings of.
He so long wanted acceptance and appreciation from Yoshio Ootori that one day it just literally backfired, and he did all he could to get the old man irked. If he could make this marriage hard for him, he would.
He wanted to go to his house and get some sleep, but on his third turn he saw a person climbing the bridge railing. His mind insistently took a defensive stance. What could cause a person to do it? He had a strange feeling that the moment seemed familiar. It was so familiar that he wondered if he was experiencing a déjà vécu, as if he lived this very experience before. He never wanted to kill himself, and he never thought of suicide. But the feeling wouldn't go away. He looked at the dark haired person as he got closer to her and realized that it was a young woman.
He couldn't see her face, but her form seemed so familiar. He parked near the sidewalk and run out of car.
"Ma'am," he called out, "please, don't do it."
She ignored him. It seemed like she wasn't even listening. The wind was fast, but not strong and a few droplets of water were falling down from the gloomy sky. The woman was petite, and she was wearing a pretty, pink dress. Kyoya slowly walked closer. He called her again, but she didn't even turn, and he got convinced that the woman might have not even known of his presence. Maybe she was under the influence of drugs. The wind was playing with her hair and she was letting her body to move forward.
"No," Kyoya screamed, running forward, trying to catch her.
A splash of water momentarily woke all the senses in his body, the Adrenalin rushed through his veins and made his heartbeat faster. He looked down and found her drowning. Throwing away his blazer, he jumped after her. The water was cold. He wasn't sure why he jumped after her, the rational thing would have been to call the police and emergency services. But something, something strange and unnatural pushed him forward. He felt his legs freezing and wasn't certain he would be able to get out of the water, but then his hands found the warm body that dove into the water, and he felt odd energy burst into his body.
He was breathless when he managed to get to the shore. His eyes widened when he saw her face. Was he hallucinating? Could this really be Haruhi? Haruhi Fujioka? His heat started to beat faster and his panting - more laboured and hard. He shook her, but she was unresponsive. He checked her pulse and her heartbeat. She was not responding. He shook her again, but apparently no stimuli was reaching her. He slapped her, and he could swear her eyes darted. He tried to give her a cardiac massage - no response! Kyoya squeezed her nostrils in desperation and pressed his lips to her mouth and blew the air to her lunges. She coughed and the water gathered in there left her mouth.
He wanted to cry. He didn't know that saving someone would make him feel so liberated. He rubbed his forehead, looking down at her, and then suddenly she opened her caramel eyes.
"You are alive," he sighed, still breathless.
.~*~*~*~.
"Are you alright?" he asked, looking at her puzzled. "Why the hell did you do it for?"
"Kyoya..." Haruhi looked at the man, sitting next to to her, behind the wheel and driving a car, "what am I doing here? Where are you taking me?"
"I am glad that you are so happy to see me you decided to drop all the formality," he mocked her, but a small smile played on his lips, "I can't believe after so many years we meet just right on the day of your suicide. So odd!"
Haruhi looked at the man again. And then the memories rushed back to her - those grey eyes - the person who saved her was Kyoya. She sighed and rubbed her face. He saved her again and again and again. But she never managed to save him. The strange irony, that Kyoya Ootori was the one who needed to be saved saved her several times already, made Haruhi cringe.
"Not so happy to see your savior?" he asked again, shooting her a glare and then with a sigh he answered her earlier question. "We are heading to my house."
She needed to find the keys. She needed to fix this. She looked back again at the man sitting next to her and an unusual feeling registered in her mind. He felt different. This man was really different than the other versions of him she had encountered. She wondered what caused the change and what kind of life he was living. His quizzical glance made her come back to reality.
"I see," she mumbled quietly. "Why are we heading to your house?"
"Well," he started and then paused to let out a hiss when spotted a car in front of them, "Why the fuck does this idiot drive so slowly?"
What! Haruhi's eyes widened. Yes, he was different. She observed his appearance and clothes. He was in a suit, his suit jacket was dry while the rest of her clothes were wet. His hair were cut into a stylish hairstyle, and he looked quite kept and neat. But something was oddly wilder about this guy. He seemed more talkative and aggressive than Kyoya Ootori was. What did happen to him to make this kind of changes possible? How did the universe construct itself this time?
She had to press back against her seat when he sped up to pass the car, but he stopped as he leveled to the other car. He slid down the window and looked at the other driver.
"You, asshole, learn to drive faster, fucking snail!" Haruhi wanted to throw up.
She looked at him with horror as if she thought this was going to be the end. What was wrong with him? This was not Kyoya. This was some weird doppelganger, who only looked similar to him in appearance. Nothing of his cool and collected personality - this guy looked impulsive.
"I was on my way to my house and I saw you. I actually didn't know it was you, but I am glad I went after you, or you'd be dead," he suddenly spoke again, "I can drop you after I change my clothes."
She nodded, still looking at him dumbfounded. What did this mean? She felt disoriented. Her mind went back to her contemplations on finding the keys and fixing everything. She had no idea what those could be, but apparently, those were things that she hadn't encountered so far or she would perhaps know their importance, would she?
.~*~*~*~.
She knew this house. She had been here already twice. She could even tell that in the attic Kyoya had an art room. At least, that was the case, when he took her there the last time, before he was killed by his wife, taking the bullet that was intended for Haruhi. She sat on the apricot coloured plush sofa in the vast drawing room that had big windows. The curtains were drawn back, and the bright afternoon sunlight was rushing in through the clean and glittery glass.
She was still wet, but the heat inside already warmed her up, and her hair was getting drier, forming small unruly curls. She readjusted the white towel on her shoulders. She didn't have anything to change into anyways. Her dress would eventually dry up. He was upstairs changing his clothes. She was happy to see him alive but worried to see him so foreign.
"So," she heard Kyoya's voice and rose her head, finding him on the stairs, coming down while buttoning his pale green dress-shirt, "you didn't tell me the reason you jumped from the bridge. Were you trying to catch some tuna fish or had other things in mind?"
Haruhi stiffened. Now that she was thinking about it. Whatever she did was horrid. While falling down, she already regretted the decision. Although, it was the only reason she found the truth. But still, the idea that she was about to kill herself sent shivers through her legs.
"I..." she started quite lost, "it happened accidentally."
"Oh," he said with an obvious sarcasm, "so you were trying to catch some fish. And after all this years, one might think you are sensible enough to learn swimming."
"I am sorry," she said with a sigh.
"So, that fate decided to get us meet, maybe you would like to tell me how your life had turned to be that you decided to catch fish in the freezing lake with your hands, quite spectacularly reaching the destinations?"
"Um, well..." Haruhi looked at this man who didn't seem to be bothered by her act and kept being snarky and odd. The mention of fate made her grimace.
"Tell me, Haruhi," he suddenly raised his voice, "you think you will be fine, or should we give a visit to a doctor?"
She nodded, "I am alright," she responded with an affirmative head-shake.
The third Ootori son crossed his legs and let out an amused chuckle. He eyed her quite thoroughly, and that made Haruhi feel nervous around this guy. She still didn't know what to expect and she had an important mission to carry out: to seek and find the keys that would fix this nightmare for once and all. Suddenly a call interrupted her thoughts. She looked up and found Kyoya searching for his phone in his pockets.
"Yes, good day, father," he said with a playful smile on his lips, but smile faltered immediately as came the man's response, "I will come to the meeting, but I don't want to drag that bitch with me as my date."
Haruhi rolled her eyes at his usage of the foal language, but didn't say anything. She couldn't tell what Yoshio Ootori said, but Kyoya's face turned into the neutral mask he usually was sporting. For some reason, this made Haruhi feel better - this put her at ease, and she felt hopeful and safer than when he was joking about her suicide attemp.
"Ahh," he sighed and ruffled his hair lazily. "Don't worry, I won't be alone. But if you force me to come with that wench, I am not moving."
The Yoshio's response made his lips curl into a small smirk, and he eyed Haruhi content with himself. That gesture made Haruhi worried. It was as if he was planning something against her.
"You will see," he mumbled and turned off the phone. "Haruhi, I was thinking, would you be kind enough to accompany me to some event I need to attend?"
"What?" she gasped shocked - this guy didn't have any clue that she didn't recover yet. At least in his eyes, she was a girl who attempted to kill herself and those things people don't do out of green air and boredom. Did he care that something perhaps was not alright with her and it would have been safer to leave her alone?
"Well," he started, "I need to leave and I don't feel like you are ready to be left alone. So you will come with me, until I make sure you are not about to do something crazy or stupid."
"It doesn't seem like you want to go," she retorted, glancing at him carefully.
"I just want to make my father angry," he smiled, "if I don't attend the parties, it will wind him up and will be a low blow for his enormous ego."
"You work for your father?" she asked curiously, trying to pry information about his new life.
"Yes," he smiled bitterly, "you didn't know. After graduating the law school, Ootori Yoshio so kindly employed me, and now I am cleaning up the shit my brothers keep creating both financially and legally. But that doesn't inflate my image as I am the 3rd son."
Her heart squeezed in pain. The grimace in his face was familiar, it was something she knew and could relate too. She sighed.
"And you?" he asked, "I remember you wanting to go to a law school. Did you make that wish of yours come true?"
She stared at him for a moment and smiled. Her smile was small, and there was no trace of happiness in it, if anything, it was devoid of any emotion.
"I honestly don't know," she muttered, and it was unclear the response was directed to Kyoya or to herself.
And it was true. She actually had very little idea about her new life. All she knew was that her father had passed away. The memory made her go through horrible pain and her face contorted. She looked at Kyoya, he was scanning her face, his brow arched quizzically and his face was neutral. Being unnoticed and unappreciated by his father and having no other motivation made Kyoya turn like this. It altered his psyche in years, and it made him the person who was sitting in front of her, looking at her and through her.
"You don't want to talk about what made you do it?" he suddenly asked: when she tried to open her mouth and give an answer he stopped her. "Don't say anything. I understand that we haven't seen each other for years. Just keep in mind, dying is not a solution. It's an escape."
"Aren't we all escaping from something," she said sadly.
Another call interrupted their odd conversation.
.~*~*~*~.
It has been 15 minutes since Kyoya left with his phone. She started to pace in the room nervously. Her hair was completely dry and so was her dress. Truly, it did have a few damp spots, but didn't matter anyways, because the dress was muddy, and she would need to throw the damn thing away. It gave her creeps. She sighed and sat down. What could those keys be? She needed to find them as soon as possible. Were they some kind of special objects? The stupid system correction thing didn't give her any clues. How could she try to find something she had zero idea about? These keys, whatever they were, were things she didn't come across during the previous universes. At least, the idea that the pink dress was a construct, a reminder that the world was fake and clashing, implied that these keys were unique and something she couldn't come across naturally.
She shook her head and stood up again. Where was Kyoya? What was taking him so long? She wanted to leave and immediately start her search before something would happen to him. She rubbed her temples. These thoughts were giving her a major headache. Why was everything so complicated? It was so strange, so abnormal. And she still needed to get used to this new Kyoya, who apparently was a lawyer. Why did he choose to become a lawyer? He never expressed such a wish.
Kyoya walked back from the room he went, seemingly upset and angry. He tossed his phone and sat in the apricot-coloured armchair. His facial veins were contracted and his eyes were blank with anger and darkness.
"That bitch," he hissed, getting a cigarette box from the pockets of his grey suit pants.
Haruhi's eyes widened and surprised coloured her face. Was he smoking? She couldn't believe it. It was strange, he was a person very concerned about his health and had always made sensible life choices. Her eyes widened even more when he got the thin cigarette between his lips and lit it up with a lighter.
"Pokes her long nose into every aspect of my life," he spat.
A thin stream of smoke came out of his mouth and he continued smoking.
"Are you smoking?" Haruhi asked shocked.
"Whatever pisses Yoshio," he said with a wink, but then sighed and added, "but now I really need it... to calm my nerves."
Haruhi let out a small gasp and silence followed it. It was a strange situation. It was really uncomfortable for Haruhi. She didn't like what Kyoya became, and it pained her.
"I tried so long to please him. I set aside everything that mattered to me to live for his approval, but it never came. No matter how hard I worked, how much I did, how well I behaved and how much merit my actions brought to Ootori family, my father treated me like a dog on a leash. He never recognized me as a child, nor does he think I am an adult now. I was just an extension of the Ootori family, something that was supposed to be perfect and admired by others. He treated me like he would treat his other possessions. I was reduced into a thing, instead of being a person. Constantly trying to please him, to get his approval and acceptance..." he paused and exhaled the cigarette smoke, "He didn't treat and doesn't treat my brothers any better, but I suppose I am the least important in the situation. He always kept us up with his manipulations. He made us work hard and compete against each other for being his heir."
Kyoya laughed and Haruhi's face got distorted with an even deeper grimace.
"...Yoshio kept all of us on a leash, like dogs, who were promised to get a dried meat-cube, if they did the tricks. Guess what? I was not the dog who would get the meat-cube, even if I did the trick. So, I changed my life. Now I don't put up with all that shit he made me go through. I think he doesn't like it, but at least he notices my existence now."
Haruhi's face was red, and she couldn't tell what made her so red and fiery - anger or frustration? She snatched the cigarette out of his mouth and glared at him.
"You are still a dog on a leash, who lives his life for someone else," she literally screamed at him, which made him blink his eyes surprised, "Only, if before you were a dog who pleased his master, now you are one who tries to displease him. Stop living your life for him. Stop ruining your health, because your father is not affectionate enough towards you. It doesn't matter. When you stop, he will value you more."
She didn't even notice that the ash of the burning cigarette left a rosy spot on her palm. Kyoya looked at her with widened eyes and too lost for words, stared at her fragile, feminine form.
"I need to leave," she said getting up.
"Where are you going?" he immediately walked after her.
"I have things to do," she said angrily, "I need to find the keys, and I don't have time to sit here and see how you are ruining your life with your childish behavior."
"Wait," he said, holding her wrist.
Haruhi stopped and looked at him. His eyes were grey. They were grey; stormy grey, like the sky during the thunderstorm. Her face softened and her eyes looked at him warmly. The cozy emotions surged through her brain as soon as those icy eyes stared into hers and made her soul break into pieces.
"You should come with me to the event," he said urgently, as if it was the most important thing in the world.
"Why?" she asked dumbly.
"Because I saved your life," he mumbled.
Haruhi shook her head. No! This wouldn't end well. She needed to find the keys. She didn't have time to go to parties with him, when his life was at the stake. Besides she was really angry with this version of him. Did really Yoshio's appreciation mean so much to him? She scowled.
"Fair enough," she mumbled, "only it doesn't make sense why you want me to come with you, when you have a fiancée."
He lowered his head and gritted his teeth, "I don't want to see the face of that idiot," he said, loosing his temper.
"Fine then," Haruhi sighed, "I will go with you. Seems like you want to make everyone shocked and angry. Why not! I can give you that."
"Only..." Kyoya started and stopped when the girl looked at him questioningly, "your dress is not fitting."
"Believe me, if I could get rid of this dress now, I would happily do it," she said with annoyance.
"No, it's a nice a dress, it's just..." he paused again and gave her a curious look, "it's just too dirty."
"I will try to clean it up in the bathroom," she said, walking forward, but Kyoya turned and grabbed her wrist again and stopped her again.
"No need," he said, taking out his phone, "I will ask Tachibana to get you a dress, and you go and take a shower. You look horrid! Do you even know that?"
She rolled her eyes and didn't even make a move from her place, "I will just go like this," she insisted, "what don't you like?"
He pushed her towards the bathroom door and pushed her in, "Take a shower, God! You look awful."
.~*~*~*~.
Haruhi Fujioka had never believed in strange, extraordinary things. No, in fact, she was so down to earth, that it made her not to understand the host club for a while. Now that something extraordinary was happening none of those guys, who would believe in the extraordinary, were here to witness, and it just made her feel odd. She wondered what life each of the ex host members turned into in this new version of the universe. Maybe if she met them, they would be able to help her.
She turned off the hot water and looked herself in the mirror. She smelled like Kyoya's shampoo. It was weird, but it gave her a warm feeling. She looked around there was no towel. She sighed and walked out.
"Kyoya," she called, "I am sorry, but I need a..."
She saw Kyoya looking at her wide-eyed and shocked. He immediately turned his head away and closed his eyes.
"Are you crazy?" he shouted embarrassed.
Haruhi looked down at herself and realized that she was bare, and the hot water was dripping down the mounds of her breasts and her soft thighs. She rolled her eyes. It was natural to be naked. What was he freaking out about? Well, it might have been strange for him, because for him it was for the first time after years he met her.
"Just give me a towel," she said seriously.
"It's in the drawer, in the bathroom," Kyoya responded, still not turning to face her - his face was beetle red, "for God's sake, put something on!"
"Alright!" she mumbled lazily and walked to the bathroom.
Thankfully she found a nice bathrobe. Truly, it was big on her for many sizes, but who cared about those things when she was completely naked a few minutes ago. When she came out of the bathroom, she found pacing Kyoya in the hall. He looked at her and his face turned red again. Was he flustered? She couldn't tell. He was very much different from what she used to.
"I asked Tachibana to buy you dress and shoes," he explained, cleaning his throat.
Tachibana? She wanted to laugh, because she knew Tachiabana relatively well from all the meetings with him, and she couldn't imagine the middle aged security guard buying female dresses. A smile involuntarily appeared on her face, but then she sighed. She had more important things to think about. How much time did she have?
"You should dry your hair," he said, shaking his hands. "The blow-drier is in the bathroom cabinet."
"I don't know how to use them," she said reluctantly.
Honestly, she just didn't want to waste time on trying to dry her hair with the blow-drier. He sighed and shook his head.
"Fine, I will do it," he grumbled.
She almost fainted, hearing his declaration, but her initial shocked didn't pass before Kyoya started to yank her hair with a comb.
"Agh, you are hurting me," she screamed.
"Stop complaining," Kyoya mumbled and yanked her hair even stronger, "I am not a hairdresser for you."
Haruhi rolled her eyes. She saw no reason for drying her hair with that thing in the first place. There was a short doorbell, then the front door was opened and a fair haired man entered in. It was Tachibana, and he had two bags in his hand. Haruhi briefly wondered what he got for her, but the idea was so ridiculous that she actually wanted to laugh.
"Sir," he spoke politely, "I bought what you asked."
"Oh, Tachibana," Kyoya said, noticing him, "you are already here."
"Aghhh," Haruhi growled as he yanked her hair again, "can't you treat my hair more gently."
He only snorted and then stopped and looked up at Tachibana.
"If you are so discontent, then Tachibana will do it," he gestured the man to walk closer.
"Me? Sir?" the older man looked at Kyoya puzzled.
.~*~*~*~.
Tachibana was better at drying her hair than Kyoya. Haruhi didn't know how to feel about the situation. She was wearing Kyoya's bathrobe sitting in the hall, while the chief of his security guard was trying to style her hair, so she could go to some stupid event with Kyoya, because he wanted to make his father and fiancee angry. Precious situation!
"Where the hell did I put those things that bitch left here?" she could hear Kyoya's voice coming from upstairs.
Tachibana kept spinning the comb in her hair. He was so concentrated in his activity, that Haruhi for a moment thought that the man forgot that his actual job was not hairdressing. She sighed again, getting impatient. She rose her eyes, and found Kyoya striding towards her - with a small bag in his hand.
"You need some make up on that awful face of yours," he said, opening the bag.
"What?" Haruhi snorted, "and is that you who is going to put that make up on my face."
"Yeah," he mumbled, getting out bottles of foundation, "I am good at painting, can't be any different."
"Are you serious?" Haruhi sighed.
Kyoya didn't respond, instead he started to smear all kinds of stuff on her face and blend everything with a thin brush, and it really seemed like he was trying to paint something on her face. Things couldn't get any more ridiculous; not only she was dead, but she was travelling in universes as soon as Kyoya Ootori was dying and now in this version of universe she was having her hair done by Tachibana and her make up by Kyoya.
She wondered if anyone would believe her, if she told this to any of the host club members. Now she really missed the host club.
"There done," Kyoya said, putting all the pencils, brushes and bottles back into the bag.
Haruhi got up and without saying a word, grabbed the bags Tachibana brought and went to bathroom to change. When she opened the box, she had to gasp. She knew this dress. It was that cream-coloured, silk dress Kyoya gave to her in the first supporting universe. She put the dress on and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked different. Her hair of course was not perfect, but Kyoya did a great job at 'painting' her. The shoes were high, but because they were soft inside she felt comfortable having them on.
She did look pretty. But the feelings she got was making her uneasy. When she got out of the bathroom, Kyoya stared at her.
"You look good," he mumbled, "Tachibana has a great taste."
"I have two daughters," the man said in his defense.
Haruhi and Kyoya looked at each other for a moment, and she felt that even though this guy was different than the Kyoya she knew and liked, her heart started to beat fast and uneven at the sight of him, in his onyx suit.
A/N- I hope you like the chapter. As I said before, this story is told mostly from Haruhi's perspective and how she views everything happening. Kyoya might seem OOC, because Haruhi interprets him every time some other way, and Kyoya's personality manifests and changes according to the changes that occurred in each of the universes.
Soon Haruhi will start gathering the keys, so I suppose this story is already getting close to the solutions. :)