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Chapter 11

There are two types of change.

One, the normal, typical and frankly healthy character shifts that come with time and maturity. These changes—though not always welcomed or appreciated at the time—are a natural part of life's cycle.

Two, the abnormal. The aberration. The event that drastically shifts a person's personality from one to the other without preparation or time. Often, these sort of shifts are turns for the worse. A parent's murder can do it, or abuse, or trauma.

Now, say two people who undergo the latter type of change meet before it occurs. They build a relationship, vow friendship and perhaps plant seeds for something more. Then, time goes by and that aberration occurs. They become different people. They start down different paths.

Now, if these two people were to meet again, would they once again be able to reconnect with the people they once were?

Could they ever reclaim what they once had?

And do they want to?


The elevator was tense, to say the least.

Even after Kichi's retreat, Mitsukuni had retained control of Honey's body, and had been sending steady death waves towards Daichi, who somehow didn't seem to care at all. Mori, though more self-controlled, seemed less-than-inclined to stop his cousin if he happened to decide violence was the best course of action.

Kyoya decided that, in order to spare them all the trouble of dealing with a death Sakura heir, that he should do the mature thing and dispel the group. Unfortunately, their decision to cram into one elevator was less than wise. The things was obviously old, and though clean and decorated tastefully, moved at the speed of a bug.

Daichi smiled insincerely as the bell dinged, signaling that they'd arrived at the fourth floor. "Hope you have a nice rest."

"We will. Daichi-kun." Mitsukuni stalked out of the elevator like a miniature lion, Mori following closely behind him. The two shot equally deadly looks over their shoulders. The message was clear.

After that, we'll probably kick your ass, so prepare yourself.

Tamaki shivered as the doors closed and they continued upwards. With the absence of the third-years, he'd hoped the dangerous atmosphere would dispel. Unfortunately, the twins were releasing enough death waves to make up for Mori and Honey's absence.

"So," he said, trying to break the silence, "You are friends with Princess Kichi?"

"Your floors are approaching," Daichi said, ignoring him completely, "Have a nice night."

"He didn't answer, Hikaru," a voice hissed, as Tamaki blanched.

"He must not have an answer, Kaoru," the other half replied, "Perhaps they were not even friends. Perhaps he was just some random guy Kichi felt sorry for."

Tamaki's skin whitened. The evil doppelgangers show their face!

Daichi's lips curved into a smirk. "You're very desperate to believe that," he said as the elevator doors opened, "Shall I tell you what you truly want to know?"

The twins shot each other a look before hopping out, Tamaki stumbling out after them. They turned in one fluid motion, arms crossed over each other. "If you insist—"

"—on telling us."

"Then I guess we can't say no."

Kyoya watched Daichi's face carefully, noting his casual stance as he pushed on the "close door" button. "Allright then," the boy said as the twins' faces became smaller and smaller, "I'll tell you. I stole Kaiya's first kiss."

The doors closed and the elevators creaked upwards—leaving the outraged shouts and furiously pounding behind. Daichi's smile was very much that of a cat, all smugness and confidence and charm.

I stole Kaiya's first kiss.

"What is your relationship with Kichi, exactly?"Daichi glanced at the only remaining boy in the elevator, "You are aware, of course, that incest isn't legal."

"She's adopted. I didn't even know who she was when it happened." Daichi yawned. "As for the question, well, I'd tell you to go screw yourself, but I doubt you know what that means, you tourist."

"You're very confidant that I won't decide to have you beaten up," Kyoya said, and Daichi shot him a glance.

"Will you?"

"That's not the issue here." Kyoya's eyes were hidden by the gleam of his glasses, "The Ootori family has a squadron of soldiers in every country of the world. I am well-known as being protective towards my friends. You were smart enough to wait until Hikaru and Kaoru were out of the elevator before you told them. Do I not merit the same caution?"

Daichi shrugged. "You didn't seem the type to hurt someone for telling the truth." His cat-smile was back. "Also, I doubt you'd hurt anyone close to Masumi, especially someone she loves as much as me."

"I'm sure she'd get over you."

Surprise, almost defensive. Didn't think you were that readable, did you, Ootori?

"So, are you two dating? Good luck, the old hag is really loud."

As if you didn't know. The fond smile, the protective glare when I called her that to her face—and I thought you were supposed to be smart.

"We're just friends, and I know you're trying to change the subject. It won't work."

Ah. Interesting.

"Well of course it won't now, but it was working just a couple seconds ago." Daichi studied Kyoya Ootori with new interest. The boy wasn't looking at him, choosing instead to scan the pages of his notebook. "You're not calling your men to have me assassinated?"

"Not yet." The elevator doors dinged, and Kyoya stepped out. "However, I would watch myself if I were you. The others may not be as cool-headed as me. I'd check the food tonight for poisoning."

Intimidating.

Daichi didn't reply as the doors shut and he started descending. Staring at himself in the mirror, he closed his eyes, and then opened them again. Sun-bleached hair, blue eyes, a face that made getting girls easy and keeping them easier. A cocky, full-lipped smile.

He studied his face, trying to figure out the mind behind the body. What had possessed him to antagonize them like that? He was no fool—they were much more powerful than he was, and he'd have to play tour-guide for them for at least three months.

What had he gained except a feeling of intense satisfaction?

The Daichi who called me Kaiya wasn't as mean as you.

"Kaiya," he said, feeling the name flow out of his mouth like a caress, "You can't expect me to let you change without changing too, can you?"

OHSHCOHSHC

They ended up not eating together that night. Kichi, exhausted emotionally from her exchange with Daichi and physically from her first encounter with jet lack, fell asleep, and Haruhi soon joined her. Masumi called down to Kyoya and yawningly informed him that they were going to skip dinner—after which Kyoya decided that he didn't exactly feel like another confrontation either.

Tamaki and the twins, on the other hand, couldn't wait to see Daichi again so they could pound his face in—but the waitress informed them apologetically that "Mr. Daichi would not be able to join them that night, due to an unusual amount of work."

Mori and Honey joined the three disgruntled hosts soon after. Kaoru fills them in on what happened in their absence, and both third-years' eyes narrow. Surprisingly, the waitresses don't seem put off by the evil auras that surrounds their table—perhaps they're used to angry guests of Daichi—and comes to serve them.

It's a unanimous decision to order up their dishes to Kyoya's rooms.

"Where's Kaisei?" Hikaru demanded as he plopped down on the bed, "And why the hell didn't he tell us that Daichi liked little girls?"

"He probably doesn't even know about the kiss," Kaoru reasoned, "I can't see him letting Daichi anywhere near Kichi if he'd known they'd had—history." He makes a face as if the last word tastes nasty, and stuffs a piece of lobster into his mouth to drown it out.

"That makes sense," Kyoya mused. His own bowl of soup remains untouched as he types furiously away at his laptop. "Daichi, Daichi, Daichi Sakura—ah. Here it is." The other hosts crowded around him as he started reading. "High school sophomore—the American equivalent of second-years—student body president, involved in several competitive sports and martial arts, including basketball, football, karate, judo, and…" His glasses glinted in surprise, "Break-dancing"

"Break-a-what?" Honey asked, "Takashi, what's that?"

"I don't know."

"Aw, you poor oldies," Hikaru and Kaoru snickered, "We can see the gray hair already. Just because you're past your primes doesn't mean you shouldn't keep up with the culture of the youth—our culture, naturally."

Mori's eyes narrowed, Honey's mouth tightened, and the twins backed off so fast it was comical. "Sorry, sempai's!" They barked, "We mean no disrespect!" Kowtowing furiously, they hid behind Kyoya. "Protect us, Shadow-King-sempai!"

"Just tell us the basics of what break-dancing is," the Ootori heir said, "And I'm sure they'll forgive you."

Tamaki perked up. "Ah, I have figured it out!" he exclaimed, "I will save these insensitive twins in hopes that they will repay my kindness with the respect and honor due a king! Takashi Morinozuka," he stabbed a finger at him, "Honey Haninozuka—" the finger jabbed again, "Break-dancing undoubtedly is—" He paused for effect, "The art of breaking bones as you dance!"

Kyoya face palmed as the twins went into hysterics. Tamaki, oblivious to the merriment at his expense, continued. "Daichi Sakura no doubt masterminded the evolution of this art! It mixes the complexity of dance with the danger of the martial arts! With it, he can grace a dance hall and still defend himself from a thousand enemies! With it, he is invincible!"

"Tamaki, stop making a fool out of yourself," Kyoya turned his laptop over to let the other boys see the screen. On it, were several pictures of Daichi in various position. Kyoya clicked a button, and a clip of the boy dancing began to play.

For a couple moments, there was complete silence as the Hosts gazed at the short video. There was no doubt about it—the boy was good.

Kyoya switched off the video and pushed up his glasses. "For now, this information does nothing to help us, but you should all keep it in mind. Daichi Sakura is a very well-rounded individual. Considering the fact that Kichi is not technically blood-related to him, there's no reason he would not pursue her."

"I'll give him a reason," Hikaru clenched a fist meaningfully, "We'll see how 'well-rounded' he is with a rearranged face."

Jealous, are we?

It wasn't only him, either. Kaoru, though less vocal than his twin, looked liked he was ready to participate in whatever beating Hikaru was planning. Honey looked positively deadly, despite the childish smile still plastered firmly on his face. Even Mori looked a bit foreboding.

Tamaki, on the other hand, looked thoughtful. "Shouldn't we let Kichi figure out her feelings for Daichi-kun by herself? After all, if our goal is to have her reinvent herself, then we have to let her make up her own mind about how she feels about others."

"And remember," Kyoya added quickly, as the other hosts turned on Tamaki, "There's no evidence that Daichi even intends to pursue Kichi romantically, so don't be too hasty."

Even as he spoke, he knew his words were falling on deaf ears. It was true—Daichi's interest, if, indeed, he had any interest, could be purely platonic, but as he remembered the look on the other boy's face. I stole Kaiya's first kiss.

It was an interesting choice of words. Not, "I was Kaiya's first kiss—I stole Kaiya's first kiss." There'd been a territorial air to Daichi when he'd said those words, as if he was a dog marking his territory.

No, Kyoya decided, He's definitely interested, and there's definitely history between him and Kichi.

Tomorrow's going to be very interesting.