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Disclaimer: story is mine, characters aren't.
The Ward
X
Unraveling
On a highway in southeastern Wyoming, a small, red Toyota was the only car for miles as it wound its way through the hills. Rest stops were a distant memory as they passed into territory never settled.
"Wake up…" the tall man driving said softly.
His partner, a very petite blond man, groaned and snuggled his stuffed bunny in the back seat of the car. The driver sighed.
"Mitsukuni, we are almost there." He took the next exit off the highway. There was nothing but wasteland for miles around.
Mitsukuni sat up and tossed the bunny aside. He ran a hand through his unruly hair.
"I'm getting too old for this, Takashi," he whined, the words sounding strange coming from his baby face.
"You're only twenty-four," Takashi responded, his dark eyes focused on the shabby building up ahead.
The smaller man gave a sigh and clambered into the passenger's seat. His eyes narrowed as he too turned his attention to the building.
"Is that it?" Mitsukuni asked, frowning cutely. Takashi nodded slowly. There was nothing else for miles around.
This was their destination.
Tamaki couldn't sleep. Martha's screams filled the night with unprecedented force. He sat up in bed and sighed. He was not allowed to leave his room, since he was likely to approach Haruhi with "immoral intents."
It wasn't such a big deal that he couldn't fall asleep. Delirium would deliver him, followed by exhaustion, and then he would sleep.
He wondered vaguely how many days it had been since he'd seen Haruhi. Long enough to thoroughly contemplate the situation, even if it didn't do him any good.
She wasn't crazy…or was she? Was he even sane anymore? Had he ever been sane? Martha's screams shattered his thoughts. It was impossible to think clearly.
He turned over and curled into the fetal position, placing the pillow over his ear to block out the sound.
She was here to solve some kind of mystery…but what? What was there to show that this wasn't all the crazy illusions of Frank and Francis? Did the three of clubs even exist?
He was so thirsty…where was the water they'd left him? Stumbling through the dark room, Tamaki at last felt his hands close around the cup.
They left a child's sippy cup full of water under the door every night. Why a sippy cup? Would it prevent him from drowning himself?
He drained the glass.
The only conclusion he could draw was that he could not assume that anyone was sane. Not himself, not the orderlies, not any of the patients.
"Ugh," he groaned, wiping his mouth.
"Wait, if I'm not sane, then how can I do anything?" he asked aloud, terror gripping his chest.
Martha's shriek was the only reply he received.
"Kyouya, we're going to be late," Akane called from the hallway. Kyouya frowned in the mirror and continued adjusting his cufflinks.
"Miss Wakamura, I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me so familiarly. Also, you can send the butler to call me. Go wait in the car if you're so impatient. I'm never late for anything." He finished with his cufflinks, looked himself over, and walked out toward the door.
He opened it, his chest strangely tight, and sighed when he found the hallway unoccupied. He shut the door firmly behind him, only to reveal Akane, leaning against the wall.
One hand rested on her hip, the other holding a small, hot pink clutch. Kyouya's eyes slid involuntarily over her body. A black dress with a heart-shaped neckline hugged her perfect body. Her hair was up in a low chignon to the side.
"I thought women were supposed to take a long time to get ready," she said, interrupting his thoughts and smirking with her full, red mouth.
Kyouya caught himself and turned away sharply. She followed as they walked down the stairs.
"I don't half-ass things. My appearance must be perfect. Anyway, don't get cocky just because you're my escort. It's only because Suoh asked me specifically."
Akane said nothing, only scampered ahead, her behind moving in a hypnotic fashion. Kyouya blinked twice to clear the strange thoughts forming in his mind.
Together they entered the limo and sat facing each other. Akane immediately began flipping the radio channels, messing with the air conditioning and adjusting the lights. Kyouya frowned at her.
"You're like a child! You can't sit still!" he exclaimed, his voice uncharacteristically loud. He was strangely frustrated, a feeling that was growing all too familiar.
"I don't understand why you're so high strung. Is it because your friend probably won't be saved after all?" She smirked again, leaving the radio playing the music of some inane boy band.
Kyouya bit back a reply, choosing instead to stare out the window. However, he couldn't keep himself from touching a small button to his right.
Akane made a face as opera filled the limo. Kyouya sneered as she frowned and turned away.
"Whatever," she said, still not looking at him, "Don't let it ruin this for you. This is supposed to be the hottest party of the year."
"I know," he said, looking at her out of the corner of his eye, "I've attended it every year since middle school."
Tamaki was running down the hallway as fast as he could, his heart pounding furiously. He had to get to Haruhi's room. He didn't know why; he just knew that if he didn't, something horrible would happen.
The hallway twisted on in front of him – was it always this curvy? His chest felt like it was going to burst.
"Haruhi," he gasped. Somewhere, someone was pounding on a door. The floor curved ahead in a spiral, and still Tamaki ran. He felt the blood rush to his head as he ran upside down toward her room.
The pounding increased, getting louder and louder, filling his head.
"Hey, Jap, wake up!" Butch's voice broke through.
Tamaki choked as he opened his eyes. He was half off the bed, his upper body hanging upside down almost to the floor. A click told him that the orderlies were unlocking the door to enter.
He had long lost the will to eat, and so lacked the strength to right himself. He settled for slithering the rest of the way to the floor.
The orderlies burst in, looking around and scowling. Tamaki crouched and peered over the bed. He never liked to look defenseless or attractive when Butch was present.
"What the fuck are you doing, faggot?" the large orderly growled. Tamaki frowned.
Who are you calling a faggot? He thought angrily.
"Whatever, get up," Jim said.
Tamaki tried, but standing seemed to be out of the question. The two orderlies glanced at each other and frowned.
"Are you fucking serious?"
They picked him up and carried him out of the room. Tamaki blinked around stupidly. He had been dreaming of something, but what?
"It's a pleasure to see you, Mr. Ootori," some woman of minor significance said as she shook his hand.
Kyouya smiled falsely, "You look lovely as always."
She blushed with feigned modesty. Kyouya excused himself and slipped away to the bar.
"Martini, extra dry," he said curtly.
"Let me guess – shaken, not stirred?" a sly voice joked from behind him. Kyouya felt that strange tightness in his chest return. What a horrendously nerve-wracking feeling.
"Very funny, Miss Wakamura," he said, smirking, as he took the martini. In the dim lighting Akane's eyes glittered brightly. Some men trailed behind her. Kyouya's eyes narrowed.
"Let's get outta here," she whispered, flashing a white grin. Kyouya didn't know why, but the room was suddenly very hot.
"We finally caught you, Akane!" one of the followers said happily. The flock of men now surrounded her, baring their teeth in wolfish grins.
"Your date is wonderful, Mr. Ootori," another one said. The look in his eyes gave an impression of slime.
Kyouya's eyebrow twitched. Even on his best days, he had trouble with trust fund babies running wild at parties. Ever since that meeting with Suoh he'd been on edge.
Suoh, who had confessed almost everything. Almost.
Apparently realizing that Kyouya was immovable, Akane shrugged and walked away, taking her posse with her.
One of the men kept his gaze on Kyouya. It lingered suspiciously – only for a moment, but enough to set the young executive on edge. Then the mysterious guest turned and followed the others.
Drinking his martini all at once, the youngest Ootori decided to avoid the next crowd of admirers by slipping off to the bathroom. At last, some solitude to muse over the past week.
Just as he entered the bathroom, his cell phone rang. Ever diligent, he answered it, leaning against the door of the stall.
"Yes? This is Ootori," he said curtly.
"Sir, secretary Yamamoto speaking," came the voice on the other end. Kyouya smiled. Yamamoto was one of his more promising subordinates.
"What is it? You should know not to call me while I am attending social functions," he said, with his usual coldness.
"Sir, this is about the order to relocate the Japanese citizens in the mental hospital in the US–"
"—And? What of it?" he asked, his voice a low growl.
"It appears that the other party is unwilling to relinquish them. And as of two hours ago, we have been unable to make contact with the psychiatric center in question—"
Kyouya felt his heart plummet into his stomach. The door against his back was like ice. Yamamoto was still speaking, but Kyouya heard nothing.
"I want Suoh to be waiting in my office when I get home," he said stonily. He hung up before the secretary could reply.
What am I going to do? He buried his hands in his hair. His pulse tripled in speed. He could hear his breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
"Not in here! Someone will catch us!" Akane's voice disrupted his thoughts. Without thinking, Kyouya turned and hid in the bathroom stall, locking it quickly.
"Oh come on," the man with her replied churlishly. Kyouya's panic was replaced by anger and revulsion. In spite of himself, he watched them through the crack between the door and the wall.
"You're right. I know exactly why you brought me here," Akane said. Was it his imagination, or did she flash a smile at the stall when she said that?
"Oh, do you?" the man, who Kyouya now recognized as the gazer from before, reached into his pocket.
But Akane was too quick. With a flexibility Kyouya thought impossible (given her dress) she kicked him in the face. He was flung backwards onto the couch and she was on him in a flash.
She removed the gun and two knives he had been hiding. His face bled from a deep gash caused by her stiletto.
"Who sent you?" she whispered harshly.
There was no response. She kneed him in the groin and then dragged him out the door. Kyouya heard a vague exchange, and she returned alone.
Then he suddenly lost sight of her. She was still in the room but where?
"I took care of him, Mr. Ootori," she said haughtily. Kyouya looked up to see her peering over the top of the stall.
"Do I get a reward?"
"Mitsukuni, are you done with the wire clipper?" Takashi asked his small companion.
"Almost," he replied, "There is just the emergency phone line left."
The tall man sat back and watched his partner work. He carefully followed the trail of a wire from the building to the hotbox, trying to ascertain its function.
"Remember," Takashi said sternly, "If you cut the power by mistake they'll know we're here."
Mitsukuni gave him a wave over his shoulder.
"I know, I know. Gosh, this wiring job is shoddy, I don't even know what this does."
Takashi sighed.
DM: Well, how is it? It's longer this time, as a special thank you to those who reviewed even though my update was slow! I bet you all want to know what Tamaki's dad told Kyouya, don't you! Hahaha well don't worry, you'll find out next time! Please review! Also, please check out my profile for my new poll!