With(out) You
"Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart." ― Marcus Aurelius
As the summer break of Ouran started, Tamaki's father became more animated. The Ouran reunions had arrived. His father was gleeful over the influx of activity at the school and glad he saw Ootori again a few weeks back sometime during their class's invited three days.
There were also a slew of international people coming into the second Souh mansion for this reason too. There had already been one young boy staying in the residence for the current school year, but now more were joining the South African student. All the past international students the mansion had held over the years, coming back for the class reunions.
Every couple of days, a new person would appear. The scholarship for international students had been set up years ago in order to start connections outside of Japan. Every other year was what his grand-père began and wanted continued, those chosen to be people unfamiliar to the students of Ouran. It was one of the few things Tamaki had begun noticing his father and grand-mère agreed upon. Even if Grand-mere quickly banned anyone from France after Tamaki turned down his father's offer to come to Japan, the ban only lasted for the duration of time Tamaki would have been eligible.
A woman of extremes when it came to family. A complete banning or come live with us forever. But for all that prickly hard exterior, Tamaki could see a softness in his grand-mère's eyes whenever his father and him became particularly animated. She didn't snap at them to knock it off as fast as Tamaki would have thought she would, often pardoning them for the day.
It could be why the woman put her foot down so hard on the bigger things. Perhaps, Tamaki had come to think, she was far more of a softy than she let on. Not exactly a trait she championed and advocated in their days spent together at the office.
He looked back to see his father sending the servants scurrying, currently directing necessities that should be in each returning visitor. "Don't forget to put her flowers in one of those adorable cow vases I discovered, make note of that when she arrives in a few days! Oh! Sneak in a CD of Johnny Cash! That girl can claim she grew up country, but hates the music all she wants. I know I caught her singing 'Boy Named Sue' to entertain those mischievous twins of the elementary's Keiko-san. But most certainly don't forget to spoil her rotten and—"
A servant racing by lifted up an oversize pack of soda pop and kept moving to not lose the momentum in carrying the weight.
His father shot a thumbs up and turned back to Tamaki, continuing to speak with great enthusiasm about an international student from America who would have been in his class final year of high school, had Tamaki taken upon the offer from ten years ago.
"You cannot miss Melanie-chan," he brightly informed Tamaki. "Ah, well, her family name is Scott currently, however, she will insist upon use of her first name due to where she grew up. Calling her by last name is considered rude there, but she won't take offense if you insist upon her family name. Unless you are who became her fiancé," he laughed loudly. "I think she has well broken him from that stiff habit! You'd like her. She's a stubborn thing, but openly sincere and kindhearted. Always a smile for everyone."
"I can't wait to meet her," Tamaki replied simply. His father beamed and babbled on.
"Young Ootori-kun is highly intelligent, don't tell Yoshio that though! He'll misconstrue it against me after I claimed you would have taken the top spot! He's become a very driven and impassioned young man. Oh, shoot! I forgot to ask Yoshio about his children and grandchildren with all the old classmates we were talking to. He gets so reserved with anyone else, what an annoying man. But he said he was doing his statement Saturday. I'll catch him then and get the real answer out of him."
His father whipped out his cell phone, fingers flying as he muttered insults that lacked true heat. Despite being baffled at Ootori suddenly being brought up, Tamaki smiled, recalling his father's closest person who could be called a friend fondly. Those two seemed to have an interesting relationship. His father finished the text and smiled brightly.
"It'll be exciting to see the two of you met. Ah! Then there is Sonoda-kun!"
Tamaki brightened at the name. "Isao? The pianist?"
His father, startled, blinked and then laughed. "Yes! Isao would have been in that class with you."
In class with him? Was that what his father was going on about?
"Moved up to 3-A his final year, a proud moment. Then his final recital put light on him as the great pianist that he is. Shame he was pushed to the sidelines for so long. But that was Sonoda-kun for you. Very much like the flowing of water. Then there was Kurabayashi-chan who—"
"I'm sorry," Tamaki interrupted. "By why are you telling me about classmates that would have been? If it's business related, I already know Ootori-san has three sons we may deal with at some point, but—"
"Oh! I didn't tell you?" His father's face drew open in tell-tale shock. "I can't believe it. I'm sure I told you."
Fighting a smile at his father's confusion and confidence, Tamaki shook his head. "No, I am sure you have not told me. You just started going off on describing various people." Tamaki listed the people back from the most recent. "A Kurabayashi, Isao Sonoda, Ootori's youngest son, Melanie Scott, Erik Friedrich, Evgeni Stepanov…isn't he the one who arrived late last night?"
"Yes, that's the one. But I didn't tell you?"
"Obviously not Master Yuzuru," spoke the dry voice of the oldest servant. Tamaki grinned at Shima. Unruffled and candid, she was perhaps his favorite of the Souh servants due to her being the first to not hide her disposition and sentiments around him. She never believed Tamaki when he stated how refreshing she was to the household. The tiny woman stood apart from the hectic action, directing the flow of traffic moving through the second Souh mansion this early in the day. None of the international visitors were up at this time.
His father stuttered, then faced Tamaki again. "Oh, well, I'm telling you now," he waved the small matter aside. "I'm bringing you to your class's three celebration days. The first day is the coming Thursday." His father pointed upwards brightly.
Tamaki chuckled. That explained why his father was going on like that. "You know," he began nonchalantly. "I've already had the chance to meet Isao."
His father's whole face lit up. "Really?"
He laughed. "Yes really. We happened to meet," he stopped suddenly. The smile fell from Tamaki's face as he remembered whom they had meet through. Kyoya. What Fuyumi revealed after the last group session rang in his head and sunk a heavy feeling into his gut.
"Tamaki?" His father fretted in front of him, his voice strained. "What is it?"
"Would it be okay if I went there separately? There's someone I'd like to bring with."
Brows furrowed, his father nodded. "Of course. You know Sonoda-kun probably has his own ride, right?" He gave Tamaki a searching look. "What is it Tamaki?"
It was challenging to stay silent under that gaze of concern. Yet Tamaki did so. Hesitating to reassure his father. The servants continued bustling about and he watched as one hurried up the stairs at Shima's barked command. Some things were simple. This wasn't so simple. Although nothing he wanted to say was private from the confines of group, it was someone else's anguish and thus, far more delicate.
"It's not Isao," he began slowly. His father nodded. "We happened to meet outside of where I go for group. There's someone from group though…"
It became difficult to speak and his father rubbed his shoulder for a few minutes. "Someone from your group," he prompted.
"He refuses to talk. During group. After though, I happened to hear his cruel words to his family picking him up. He pushes them away. They seem…scared to talk to him about it, about why he's there. So I started pestering him, trying to pull him into conversation and to help. To maybe crack the smallest smile out of him. It didn't seem right to see someone, even at group, to be in that much grief." Tamaki's voice quavered. "It's too much grief."
The silence was heavy, neither one speaking.
Then, Tamaki pressed on. "I want to be a friend to him. To include him. Even if he's very cutting to anyone who tries," he finished weakly with a shrug. "I can't not try."
Watery eyes beamed proudly at him. There was a sniffle and then a whimper, then Tamaki was engulfed in his father's arms. The hold was both tight and trembling. Bewildered and unable to see his father's face to understand what just happened, Tamaki wrapped his arms around the older man, who began to sob softly into the crook of Tamaki's neck.
"There's so much of her in you."
Tamaki went rigid at the sound of those whispered hoarse words.
His father pulled away slightly, grasping him by the sides of his face to look directly at him.
"So much."
There was a twitch of the mouth and then a startled chuckle.
"Sorry. It's just like when we meet. She looked so affronted at not making me laugh. Tried everything she could think of at that party. Headed me off at the elevator and rattled off the worst joke about cabbage I ever heard. Her face going red was what did it. Then grinned when she heard me laugh, like the embarrassment had been worth it."
He huffed in amusement. That sounded like Mother. Leaving out the fact it was a dirty joke out of her stories to her son. Tamaki's father swiped a thumb across his cheek, wiping wetness from it. Startled, Tamaki reached up to rub at his face.
"She'd like this, wouldn't she? Us laughing," the man clarified. Tamaki's father pulled his lips together into a wobbly smile. "Don't you think? She'd be grinning at seeing us like this?"
Tamaki could see his mother clearly in his eye, clapping merrily to go along with the grin. He nodded.
"It was worth it. It is worth it Tamaki."
"That was the thing. You never got used to it, the idea of someone being gone. Just when you think it's reconciled, accepted, someone points it out to you, and it just hits you all over again, that shocking." ― Sarah Dessen