They were back in the car, setting off down the road again. The driver glanced back at his passengers every so often, sensing the uncomfortable air suspended between them. Kyoya stared out the window—seemingly not noticing the tension, or maybe just ignoring it. Éclair bit her lip softly. The silence was mounting, and the twisting feeling in her stomach with it. She opened her mouth several times to say something, but nothing came out, so she closed her mouth and sat back every time.
Finally, she built up enough courage. She didn't want to leave things this way. "Kyoya…if there's anything that I said or did to upset or offend you, then I am sorry."
He shook his head slightly. "You've done nothing."
Éclair believed Kyoya, that it wasn't her fault. She reasoned that whatever had been bothering him earlier had returned to his mind. And then it dawned on her: Kyoya had gotten off without telling her what was bothering him. And after all that mushy stuff that she had said, too! She couldn't help but roll her eyes in amusement. Oh well. I guess I shouldn't be surprised.
The silence dragged on again, Kyoya choosing not to say anything as thoughts swirled in his mind. His attention kept bouncing from topic to topic: from the homework he had to the engagement to Keiko to what Éclair had said to how Tamaki was probably talking about the engagement with Haruhi to Éclair's face when she had explained her story to the big ring sitting on his desk at home to the upset expression Éclair had worn—
Kyoya took a deep breath, trying to silence the agitation he felt stirring in his stomach. He couldn't think about these things at the moment.
The car slowed to a stop and he murmured to Éclair to close her eyes as he got out and rounded the car to help her out just as she'd done for him. They were parked outside of the National Art Center in Tokyo, the ride from Éclair's destination surprisingly short.
Éclair obediently closed her eyes and took Kyoya's hand. She had been too concerned with Kyoya's state of mind to pay attention to where they had driven. But it didn't matter, because she would find out in a few moments anyway.
She let Kyoya guide her across the asphalt, then concrete, and then inside a building and across a marble floor. Éclair's gears were spinning, trying to guess where she was. She inhaled deeply and caught the scents of wood and primer and something oil based. The possibilities were shrinking, but she didn't want to make a concrete hypothesis. She wanted to be surprised. She walked confidently, not slowing or stumbling. She trusted Kyoya to lead her right. He wouldn't let her fall.
They continued walking for a while, as the building was fairly large. Kyoya carefully guided Éclair up a flight of stairs, counting out the number of stairs to her so she would not stumble. His hand gripped hers a little tighter, as though he were still expecting her to trip at least a little.
A chill of pleasure ran through Éclair when Kyoya squeezed her hand as he helped her up the staircase. Éclair normally wasn't a touchy person, but that was because she had never had much positive physical interaction. Having someone that she cared about touch her this way was very nice. She reacted by holding onto his hand a little tighter in return. She didn't miss even one step.
Finally, they came to a stop before a painting hanging on a wall. It was of a fair size at thirty-four square inches and it was a simple painting of a rose. 'Simple' used in an ironic sense, as the flower was imbued with various colors that bled down the page, as though the artist had not a care to make it clean or neat. The petals blended into a whole spectrum of hues, some colors even straying away from the petals and dotting into the background, like there was nothing holding the artist back from their passion with their brush.
The painting was Kyoya's favorite, far exceeding any famous works like the Mona Lisa or Starry Night. No, this painting of a single rose sitting off on a side wall in the back of the art gallery; this was what made Kyoya's heart swell with emotion, and he could not understand why. It was probably what triggered his use of the metaphor of painting within a single frame. He never wanted to be limited to thirty-four square inches, but even if he was, he could still create something breathtaking.
"Alright," he said evenly, not taking his gaze off the painting, "you can open your eyes."
It took Éclair a moment to adjust to the light when she opened her eyes. It was then that she recognized their location: the Tokyo National Art Center. She had seen pictures of it before; her father had once been invited to a business affair here, and his publicist had let Éclair see the photos of the event. She had never been there in person, however. Éclair didn't usually go to art galleries, unless it was for some sort of business function. Art, particularly modern art—her father's definition of 'modern art' being anything that had been painted in the last five hundred years or so—was one more thing that her father considered to be a frivolous waste of time. Éclair had briefly studied the old masters, just to be 'cultured', but had little interaction with art outside of that.
When her eyes had adjusted to the gallery lighting, she took in the sight before her. It was a painting of a single rose. However, the painting was like nothing that Éclair had ever seen. If Éclair had been taught that any art had meaning, it was only the art that was a realistic interpretation of reality. Paintings that could be photographs were the only ones with value. This painting defied that concept. Normally Éclair's expectations of a painting of a single flower would be quite low, but this image resisted her preconceptions. This one rose was imbued with all the vibrance and scope of color that the gardens of Koishikawa Korakuen had possessed. Its shape was not constrained to a defined dichotomy of form and formlessness, as some of the petals seemed to exist in a space separate from the rest of the flower. This painting's magnitude transcended its size, and even though it wasn't a particularly well-known work of art, Éclair thought it was the most breathtaking thing that she had ever seen.
"It's so beautiful…" she murmured reverently, as though she could barely believe in the existence of something so marvelous. She almost wanted to reach out and touch it, to make sure that it was real. She caught a glimpse of Kyoya out of the corner of her eye and suddenly it hit her. This was her answer: this was her look into Kyoya's heart. Someone so complex and full of ideas and passion. Someone who shone brightly, not being surpassed by his older counterparts. Someone who wished to defy convention and limits. That was all a part of Kyoya Ootori. "I can see why you like it. Why this is your favorite spot. Thank you for sharing it with me; for trusting me enough."
Upon her words, Kyoya smiled. It was a soft, genuine smile. For the brief instance that it spread across his face he seemed contented, as though all the stress he was feeling had disappeared for a moment. Homework and grades meant nothing to him, the engagement was not a thing that existed in his mind, and the goal of making his father proud had become an obscene fleeting thought. As he stared at the painting, with its swirling colors and gentle brush strokes, feeling Éclair's quiet presence beside him, it was as though he could tell himself just for a moment that everything was alright and within his control.
When Kyoya smiled, looking so happy and serene, Éclair decided to kiss him again…more intimately this time. Just as she talked herself into it and her body began to move closer to his, the moment was suddenly shattered. A familiar voice called out, "Kyoya-kun!" behind them.
Kyoya turned around with wide eyes as his gaze landed on Keiko Tadeshi, standing a couple of yards away, watching the both of them with her black eyes. Kyoya was instantly on the defensive and any relaxed air he may have obtained dissipated.
The dark-haired girl's gaze slowly moved between the two of them.
Bile rose up in Éclair's throat, a large amount of anger churning in her stomach. She turned around and faced Keiko, the last person on earth she would ever have wanted to come across her and Kyoya together.
The chilly smile that she gave Keiko was strained to the point of murderous and her eyes were filled with the same sort of jealous hatred. This awful, spoiled, self-unaware princess had just ruined what was perhaps one of the happiest moments of Éclair's life. She was furious.
"What are you doing here?" Kyoya asked before either girl could say anything. His mind was already spinning. This was the exact kind of situation he'd been striving to avoid for the past week, and now they were face to face yet again. How was he supposed to keep both of their secrets at bay? It would be impossible if either of them began speaking to one another.
Keiko stared at Éclair for a moment, her eyes studying the smile she wore as though trying to figure out exactly what kind of emotion she was displaying. Finally looking back at Kyoya, she took a couple of steps toward him before answering, "I wanted to see you. And I know that you come here when you aren't home, so when I stopped by and they said you were out, I knew where to look." Her eyes glanced back, unreadable, to Éclair. "I didn't realize that you had company." The way she said 'company' held an almost disgusted tone; it was quite obvious that she didn't approve of him being there with her.
Éclair raised an eyebrow, hiding how disconcerted she was behind the solid walls of ice that she had thrown up the instant that she had heard Keiko's voice. Her barriers weren't nearly as impregnable as they had been before, but they were still an adequate defense against the likes of Keiko Tadeshi. How would Keiko know where Kyoya's special place was, anyway? Her stomach churned. Had Kyoya taken Keiko here as well? Were they really closer than Kyoya let on? No, Éclair thought. Kyoya wouldn't be so dishonest with me. It's just a meaningless coincidence. Either that, or Keiko Tadeshi is a stalker. That explanation wasn't as crazy as it sounded when it came to this girl, who was completely capable of trailing the son of a business partner, with whom she was obsessed.
She gritted her teeth and responded, in her usual, professionally isolating manner, "Ootori-san and I are working on a project for art history in school and he thinks we should do a report on this painting." It was, after all, similar to the excuse Kyoya had given Keiko before. It was far from what Éclair actually wanted to say to the spoiled brat, but she had given her word to Kyoya that she would keep their arrangement secret. She couldn't break her word.
"Is that so?" Keiko's eyes slid from Éclair to Kyoya, and then remained focused on him.
Kyoya's inner state was in turmoil, even if on the outside he seemed in complete control. Tidal waves of emotions were crashing about inside him, some of them familiar—like the panic at Keiko being there or the aching worry that something would reveal either secret—and unfamiliar ones such as…was that guilt? Guilt for keeping something of this size from Éclair? Kyoya had rarely, if ever, experienced something like this, or of this magnitude, churning in his stomach and making him feel sick. He felt a sudden urge to tell Éclair everything was going on, but he bit his tongue tightly, refusing to say a word just as he had at Éclair's special place.
Keiko added, "Kyoya, I think we should go home."
Éclair bit the corner of her lip softly, her rage increasing every second. How could Keiko talk to Kyoya that way? Why wasn't he stopping her? Even though Kyoya looked as stoic as ever, Éclair could tell from his tight posture and from the look in his eyes that something was disconcerting him. Why was Kyoya so unsettled by Keiko Tadeshi? Was she really stalking or threatening him in some way? Éclair wouldn't allow that.
She slipped her hand to the inside of Kyoya's arm. "Forgive me, Tadeshi-san, but I don't believe that Ootori-san takes orders from you. Besides, he gave his word as a gentleman to escort me home." Éclair gave Kyoya a playful look that couched reassurance behind it. "You wouldn't let a young lady of noble blood take a taxi cab home, would you, Ootori-san?"
"N…No," he stammered stiffly, glancing between the two of them. His heart was hammering so loudly in his ears that he could barely think straight. This was all suddenly becoming too much for him, with everything thrashing against each other all at once: the secrets and strategies and stress and everything else that he couldn't even put a name to was building up inside of him, and for once he was ready to explode. Before he could take another moment to even try to talk himself out of his decision, he took a half step away from Éclair, withdrawing his arm and murmuring, "I promised that I would tell you what has been distracting me recently.
Éclair was stunned speechless. Kyoya hadn't really 'promised' to tell her what was bothering him. And even though she wanted to know, she hadn't expected him to tell her in public like this, in front of someone like Keiko Tadeshi. Éclair suddenly felt guilty, like she had pressured Kyoya into telling her something that he didn't want to. She held up a hand, weakly protesting, "You don't have to…"
"We are getting married," interrupted Kyoya, his tone blunt and his eyes downcast. His other arm wrapped around Keiko, drawing her close like a proper fiancé would with his fiancée. Keiko looked up at him with wide, surprised eyes, but quickly relaxed against him and rested a hand over his. She glanced at Éclair, curious about her reaction, but said not a word about the situation. It shocked her that Kyoya would choose to reveal their engagement, especially to someone like Éclair who was supposed just a group partner. But she was also glad that Kyoya was finally coming to terms with their marriage. It would make things easier in the long run.
Éclair blinked. Then she began to process. Kyoya and Keiko were getting married. Kyoya and Keiko were engaged to be married. Suddenly, the whole world was snatched out from under Éclair Tonnerre. This was the very thing she had feared and dreaded. Her mind was racing at a million thoughts per minute.
Then there was something more going on between Kyoya and Keiko. Why did he lie to me? Was he trying to spare my feelings? Or was he playing me all along? All this time, have had and his fiancée been having a laugh at my expense? After all this time of remaining aloof and controlled, did I open myself up only to be used and betrayed just like I had been warned for my entire life? The thought made her sick, but…no. his smile, the look in his eyes tonight when we were together…it was completely genuine, either that or he is the best liar in the world.
It was an arranged marriage—to be sure—and in spite of Kyoya's forced effort to put an arm around Keiko, it was evident that he was less than happy about the arrangement. He was going through with it because of duty, just like she had been willing to do with Tamaki. She couldn't possibly hold that against him.
Even so, the pit in her stomach grew into a sharp pain. This wasn't right. After years of dismissing his talent, Kyoya's father was about to ship him off to be married to some spoiled princess whom Kyoya detested. It was wrong. It should be someone else standing there, with Kyoya. Someone who…
Éclair's vision began to blur, black spots appearing in front of her eyes. She reached back to brace herself against the wall, but couldn't find it. Before she knew it, her vision had gone completely dark and she hit the floor with a thud.
"Éclair!" Kyoya shouted, dropping his arm from Keiko and rushing to her side. Others who had been roaming the gallery now looked over and murmured with surprise and concern.
He turned her over, quickly checking her vitals and making sure she wasn't too injured. Why had she passed out? Was she ill that day? Was it…the shock of finding out? No, that was ridiculous… Kyoya murmured her name quietly, trying to get her to open her eyes without making too much more of a scene.
Keiko watched with wide, uncomprehending eyes. She was lost with the situation. Kyoya's loud reaction had frightened her, and it seemed that in an instant he was gone from her side and instead kneeling over the girl. She didn't understand what caused her to faint, but what she could grasp was that all of her fiancé's attention was now placed on Éclair. She suddenly felt nauseated and she said weakly, "Kyoya, let's go home…"
"Not now," he barked angrily, taking his phone out of his pocket and dialing Tamaki. He couldn't let anyone in his family know about what happened—not even his chauffeur, whom he'd sworn to secrecy about this date. He would have to explain too much. But Tamaki…at least he would believe a lie.
Tamaki had just gotten out of the shower when he heard his phone playing Kyoya's ringtone. He hadn't talked to his best friend much since his unfortunate discovery in Kyoya's bedroom, so he drove for the phone, anxious to see what the Shadow King wanted to talk about. Kyoya almost never called him; it was almost always the other way around. So much, that once he'd had blocked Tamaki's number from his phone for an entire week, so whatever was on Kyoya's mind must be important.
Maybe he's reconsidered getting out of the engagement? Tamaki thought optimistically. The blonde Frenchman answered the phone with a jovial tone. "Mon ami! What can I do for you this evening?"
"I need you to come to the National Art Gallery. No chauffeur, if you can," Kyoya spoke, barely waiting for Tamaki's greeting. Éclair still hadn't opened her eyes and he was getting anxious about how long she would remain passed out. He couldn't remember if he'd heard her hit her head. If she had, then there could very well be trauma and they would probably have to take her to a hospital. That would make for a sticky situation: explaining to his parents and anxiously waiting for word on if she was okay. He hoped she woke up. "There's been an incident."
The tone in Kyoya's voice frightened Tamaki. An 'incident'? Was Kyoya in trouble? Tamaki could tell that he didn't have any time to wait around. He'd learned to drive back in France, and even though he didn't have a Japanese driver's license, that didn't bother him. Not when his friend needed him.
Cutting the usual shenanigans, Tamaki became very serious and replied, "I'll be there in under ten minutes." He hung up the phone and raced downstairs through the back door to avoid the servants. He picked one of the smaller cars—which hopefully wouldn't be missed for a while—and sped out of the garage, down the driveway and onto the streets.
Keiko's eyes remained on Éclair's peaceful face as Kyoya put the phone away. Others around them were murmuring, and even though she wasn't bothering to focus on what they were saying, the buzzing of conversation around her was suffocating. She was not used to so much noise, and it was all she could focus on; it was either that or the sight of her fiancé trying to coax Éclair out of slumber. Her chest tightened.
"Kyoya," she urged again, taking another step forward. "We have to go."
As he looked down at Éclair, Kyoya replied through gritted teeth, "I've called a friend and we will wait until he gets here." He let his anger fade a little before he murmured Éclair's name again, as though that would help wake her up.
Éclair started to slowly come around. Everything was foggy and muted. Her vision was still mostly dark and all blurry. The voices around her sounded like they were underwater and a thousand miles away; except for one. A gentle voice called her name. Kyoya. There were still so many things I wanted to do and say to you…
The chestnut-haired Frenchwoman groaned quietly. Everything hurt.
"Make way, people! Clear a path! I'm coming through!" Tamaki arrived on the scene, pushing his way to the front of the crowd of people that were gathered around, murmuring. The sight was nothing he had been prepared for. Kyoya kneeling next to Éclair Tonnerre, who was on the ground, lying motionless. "Kyoya!" He rushed to his friend's side, kneeling beside him. "What happened?"
"She passed out," Kyoya explained in a low voice, noticing she was just beginning to stir. "She's coming to, but I didn't want my driver to take her home. When she's fully awake, help me get her to your car." His hand rested on hers and he tried to ignore his irritation at how loud Tamaki had arrived. The chauffeur had probably noticed him running into the gallery, but it didn't matter as long as he didn't breathe a word to his family.
"Kyoya—" Keiko began yet again.
"That's enough, Keiko!" he snapped, glaring over her shoulder. The girl bit her tongue and lowered her head, offering a faint nod and taking a couple of steps back so he could continue speaking with Tamaki.
Tamaki raised an eyebrow, but it didn't seem like the time or place to ask Kyoya what he had been doing with Éclair Tonnerre, or who the young lady was that he just snapped at. He rubbed the young Frenchwoman's hand as she slowly opened her eyes.
The sight that greeted Éclair was Kyoya and Tamaki Suoh kneeling by her side. It surprised her: the man that she had once dreamed of and the man that she now wanted to be with. She raised a hand to rub her forehead. "Kyoya…" she murmured softly. She sat up slowly, trying to get her bearings back. "My apologies."
She staggered to her feet, nearly falling again. Tamaki leapt up and grabbed her by the shoulders before she could fall. "Are you alright, Lady Tonnerre?"
"We're getting you back to the car," Kyoya explained quietly, taking one of her hands to help steady her. "Do you think you can make it to the entrance?" At least it didn't seem that hitting the floor had affected her memory at all. He couldn't be completely sure, though, so he hoped that she would be able to think clearly once she gained her bearings.
Keiko remained in her place a few paces away, watching the scene progress and holding her tongue. Kyoya handled Éclair with such tenderness, such care, and it made her want to puke. Everything he was to the Frenchwoman, he refused to be with her. What was the reason? This other girl was cold and rude. She'd even taken the news of their engagement with a faint! What could possibly make Kyoya treat her with such immense kindness?
Éclair was still very light-headed, but she managed to respond to Kyoya's question with a slight nod, his voice and face the only things that were in focus. She squeezed his hand as hard as she could, which wasn't very hard at all, seeing as she hadn't recovered her full strength yet. Keiko had disappeared from Éclair's sight, which was for the best, considering her condition. Her body and brain couldn't handle any more stress at the moment.
Tamaki helped Kyoya guide Éclair through the building, down the stairs and through hallways. He had so many questions that he would make his best friend answer when they were done! Right now, Tamaki was concerned about how frail the normally self-assured and strong woman seemed. She was very pale and her skin was getting colder to the touch. Tamaki knew that Kyoya probably wouldn't want to take Éclair to one of his family's hospitals, considering the amount of secrecy his friend was going out of his way to maintain. This was a shame, as the Ootori hospitals were the best around. Tamaki didn't even know if Éclair wanted to go to a hospital. The proud Frenchwoman would probably protest.
The trio reached the car, Tamaki having lost sight of the other girl, not knowing whether or not she was still following them. "Can you support her while I open the door?" Tamaki asked his friend.
Kyoya nodded, circling an arm around her waist to make sure she could stay on her feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Keiko was still trailing behind them, but he would not pay her any attention. The last thing he needed was to explain both of his secrets so everyone could understand. He could explain how he'd revealed the engagement to Éclair, but hopefully he'd be able to keep their bet a mystery to the blonde.
"How do you feel?" he murmured quietly to Éclair, making sure she wouldn't sway on her feet.
"Dreadful…" Éclair murmured in a soft, strained voice. This word encapsulated both her physical and mental state. Though the aching in her body was great, it was nothing compared to the pain in her heart. The thought of Kyoya, who was so immensely bright and talented, trapped in an undesirable marriage, and finding out about it the moment when they had been closest, was more than she could bear.
She wanted to find the words to beg Kyoya to call the engagement off, to tell him that marrying Keiko Tadeshi was a terrible mistake. But she knew that it would be futile. She leaned into Kyoya's supportive touch, enjoying what may be their last bit of time together. She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come.
Tamaki opened his car door and prepared to help Kyoya place her in the back seat. "Where am I taking her?"
"You should take her home," Keiko answered loudly, making her presence known. Kyoya looked over his shoulder, shooting her a nasty glare which she promptly ignored. "Kyoya has no reason to continue attending to her."
She longed to take Kyoya back home and away from this scene that Éclair had caused. This was doing nothing for him besides distracting him from important things, like studying or assisting the Ootori Group in expansion. Sure, Éclair had said they were working on a project together, but a small voice inside of Keiko told her that she was lying about this—that whatever their reason for being at this gallery, it was not good for her.
Tamaki helped Éclair into the car. Weakly, she turned her head to glare at Keiko, who was—in Éclair's mind—to blame for everything bad that had happened in the past half hour. Her eyes then drifted to Kyoya and softened into sadness. "Goodbye, Kyoya," she whispered, quiet enough to keep it from Keiko. The two of them would never be able to meet the same way again. If Kyoya was truly engaged, it would be inappropriate for the two of them to go on 'dates' anymore. Éclair wouldn't ruin his reputation, no matter how upset this made her.
Éclair gave Tamaki her address, after which he closed the door. The blonde looked into his friend's troubled eyes and said quietly and slowly, "You'll have a lot to explain later." Tamaki then climbed into the car and it sped away.