A/N: The last chapter was super long. Wow, I did not know I had that in me. Well, anyway, thanks for everything, people who read and people who reviewed! I'm so grateful! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!
Chapter 13: Eggs and Oysters
Kyoya was getting less sleep than ever.
The Ootori Group's twenty year anniversary was fast approaching.
The party was to be hosted in an Abukara banquet hall in one of Yuuji's hotels. One had to admit that this hotel was impressive in all respects. Yuuji was notorious for combining many aspects of the Enterprise into one and this hotel was no different; the inside was complete with not only the banquet hall, but a spa, a recreational swimming pool and a theatre. Needless to say, the complimentary bottle of wine per room was supplied by his own line as well.
When he arrived in Japan, Yuuji would stay in the grand penthouse suite for a couple nights, then retreat back to the mansion.
Kyoya did not know what that meant for Setsuko. It had not been clarified whether or not she would be staying at the mainhouse and every time he considered asking, the words jammed in his throat and the room would become curiously warm.
Moreover, he had been much too busy to think about it very much.
It was the day before the banquet.
The weeks preceding had been spent in preparation, mostly by him.
This was, of course, his strong suit. He found fulfillment in thoroughness, in controlling every aspect of every event from every angle and this banquet was practically the putty in his hands that he moulded into excellence. He had arranged everything from the table centerpieces to the lighting to the colour of roses that the ushers would hold in their breast-pockets. He knew the menu backwards and upside down; every appetizer and every entree. The week previous, Kyoya had even booked an orchestra to perform for the entirety of the party.
He had already drawn up schedules and diagrams for the staff, where they were to be and when they were to be there. The Hosts were among the waiting staff but were to entertain the guests by whatever means possible.
The only detail left was the Hosts themselves and the tailoring of their uniforms.
The shipment had just come in and they were busying themselves in the Third Music Room after club hours, fitting themselves.
Kyoya stepped out of the changing area and surveyed himself in the full-body mirror.
The uniform was complete with a pair of high-rise trousers, suspenders, a black vest to be worn with a black dress shirt and a satiny tie the colour of champagne. He flattened out of the fabric with his hands fanned out, leaving not one ruffle untouched.
"Wow."
He met eyes with her through the mirror. "What?"
"The clothes. They're very... befitting," she decided. "You, that is."
Just as he was about to reply, he heard the rings of the curtains in the changing area scrape against the metal bar suspending them. It was often easy to forget that they were not alone. "This is surely your field of expertise, Setsuko-san, perhaps I should hand the reigns over to you? Do these uniforms need tailoring?" he asked, gesturing to the Hosts who emerged one-by-one from the changing room, all rotating like confused supermodels in their new apparel.
Setsuko, who was lazing on the couch on the verge of sleep, scanned each Host.
"They're perfect," she remarked. "Especially on Hunny-senpai and Mori-senpai."
Hunny pivoted to face her with a crazed smile. "Eh? Really? Thank you, Setsu-chan~!"
Mori seemed to know that it was wise not to say anything. He just continued to inspect himself in the mirror, tugging at the cuffs.
"They're mostly perfect, that is," she droned. "Actually, I think Tamaki-senpai rather looks like a little boy playing dress-up."
Tamaki, who had been happily admiring his reflection, whirled around and stomped up to her like a blundering ape. He huffed angrily, "Oi, oi, Setsuko-chan! Take it back!"
"Well, you can't blame her for telling the truth!" Hikaru and Kaoru teased in perfect synchronization.
She giggled and shrugged off the sniveling King who continued to yell, "Mou, Setsuko-chan! Look at me! I am a MAN! A man, I tell you!"
"Oh, Tamaki-senpai, you're so easy to tease."
"Well, you aren't very ladylike when you're bored, Setsuko-chan."
"How unfortunate," she said. "You on the other hand, are very ladylike."
He spluttered and made a lunging motion with his arms outstretched and flailing before Hunny jumped on his back with a strangling grip around his chest. "Tama-chan, no, don't hurt her! Haru-chan, help!"
Haruhi rolled her eyes. "N-no, I would rather not get involved in this."
"Your highness," Hikaru chided. "Ladies do not fight."
Kaoru wagged his index finger. "Yes, and please close your legs!
"Y-you two... pests!" Tamaki growled and brandished his fists at the twins. "I swear, if I ever get my hands on one of you..."
Without further notice of Tamaki, Setsuko shifted her gaze among each boy. It made Kyoya uncomfortable to watch her covetous blue eyes devour Hikaru and Kaoru, moving together in perfect harmony like pendulums, mocking the King. What with their roguish orange hair and amber eyes gleaming with unspeakable mischief, it was no wonder why Setsuko was charmed by them. The twins. Being playful. Grinning, taunting, giving her identically smoldering glances.
They found amusement in seducing her, he knew, because she was amusing to seduce, in general.
Did I just think that?
Kyoya froze, half-stupefied.
Why did I think such a thing? Such... stupidity. Surprised at his own vulgarity, he tried to avert his thoughts from such a tactless, teenager subject. He grabbed his black binder from a nearby stool and scribbled in the corner of an order form that the uniforms were taken care of. He tapped the lead of his pencil on the sheet distractedly, hoping that there was something, anything left to accomplish.
When he discovered that there was not, he had no choice but to think.
To think about Setsuko, to think about seducing Setsuko, and to think about a mansion somewhere in the white-picket suburbs with pretty little decorative shrubs on the front lawn, perfectly suitable for a teenaged girl to live...
She fell asleep on the drive home. She was slumped against Kyoya's right shoulder which caused everything from the elbow down to go numb. Aoi watched from the rear-view mirror, smirking a sharp-fanged smirk. It was condescending — it was knowing. That smirk, the small sound of her mouth-breathing from below and the decorative shrubs all made Kyoya unreasonably hot and irritated.
When they arrived at the mainhouse, needless to say, she was groggy and ill-mannered when forced to get out of the car; of course, not before begging for Kyoya to carry her to bed, to which he responded by pulling her hair until she surrendered.
When they entered the building, strangely, the maids and butlers were standing in neat array in the entrance hall yet not speaking a word. A couple of the women were muttering indistinctly, giggling girlishly. It was most queer as they normally only took that formation when a guest arrived at the house.
"My, my, I don't have the energy for this," said Setsuko nonchalantly. "I'm taking a nap."
She shuffled up the stairs leaving Kyoya in the middle of two columns of servants, each lowered into a bow.
Who is visiting? he was about to ask when suddenly, the doors of the dining room flew open with a bang.
"Ky-ooo-yaa-kun!"
Good God.
A cheerful, full-faced Yuuji came bounding out of the dining room with his arms thrown out like the wings of an airplane. He looked healthier than the last time Kyoya saw him and was much more bubbly, as he sometimes annoyingly was. His salt-and-pepper hair was slipshod as usual, lopping to the left in starched spikes today, and he was drowning in his suit. A thin beard of shabby stubble layered his chin and upper-lip, which was quite abnormal, although Kyoya doubted that it was anything serious. There was always something troubling Yuuji and that was no mystery, what with his twitching and paranoid gazes.
All in all, despite the odd neurotic shiver, Yuuji appeared quite handsome that afternoon.
"Yuuji-san, I-"
"I've missed you!" he exclaimed as he scooped Kyoya into a spine-crushing hug. "It's been over two months. I've missed my boy!"
So, he's in this kind of mood, thought Kyoya sourly. Yuuji generally had two moods: overjoyed and depressive. I'm not sure which I prefer.
"Ah, please, Yuuji-san. It hasn't been so long," he chuckled. "I assume you've had a pleasurable trip?"
"Hmm... it was nice." Yuuji did not release his grip yet. It was strange, in fact, how long he remained with Kyoya. His cling was somewhat... desperate. Finally, however, they parted. "Yes. Yes, Kyoya-kun, it was very nice. I suspect the new line of wine should be released very soon. You're not twenty yet, are you? Aha, no, not yet. No matter, I'll make sure you have a proper taste in advance, we'll keep it a nice little secret."
"Yuuji," a man's voice beckoned. Yoshio rounded the corner. He was visibly weary. "Are you pestering people again?"
Yuuji looked affronted. "Why, Yo-san. We were just catching up. I'm not used to being away from Kyoya for so long."
"Don't speak nonsense, before six months ago, the two of you lived on different continents."
"And now I've gone and spoilt myself, I've had too much of this gorgeous boy and I need more," he ruffled Kyoya's hair. "When I think of how we used to live! Only seeing each other once every two or three months! Oh, the heart aches."
Yoshio sighed and seemed drained, defeated. Yuuji was the only man that Kyoya knew who could exhaust his father that way. He couldn't help but be reminded of himself and Tamaki. A small, secret piece of him wished to one day be the same as Yuuji and his father: two men who had shared their youth together and who would share their adulthood together and would most likely share their elder days together. Then again, that same piece of him knew that that would probably result in several heart attacks and possibly a premature death. There was something about an eighty-something year old Tamaki drag racing in a wheelchair at an old folk's home that said 'stress'.
"Now, Yuuji-san," said Kyoya. "I'm sure there is one person more interesting in this house that you would much rather see."
His eyes widened. "Setsuko-chan! She's here? I didn't hear her-"
"You must have been too preoccupied with Kyoya," jabbed Yoshio before apparently deciding that this conversation was a waste of time and stalking away in the direction of his office.
"Where is Setsuko-chan?"
"I'm afraid she is currently taking a nap. She often has afternoon fatigue. High school is certainly taking some adjusting."
Yuuji seemed to be frozen for a moment, then he abruptly turned away, nodding slowly. "Yes. Quite. That... that would be true. Come, Kyoya-kun. Would you mind lending an old man your ear for a short while?"
Seeing that his mood had completely reversed, Kyoya complied. As they were walking away, Yuuji signaled to the servants. "Oh, please, if one of you doesn't mind. Please, uhh, keep my daughter company while she sleeps."
"I hardly think Setsuko will find it easy to escape the premises with the amount of security we've buffed up. My father provided the means to establish quite the developed system. Nobody leaves this building without notification."
He seemed largely relieved by this. "Thank you, but please, I would like somebody to accompany her. It would give me peace of mind."
The servant named Mei hustled up the stairs. Kyoya couldn't help but feel insulted.
Yuuji doubts our security system, the one that I developed, the same security that my father reinforced, he thought. He doubts that I've been capable of chaperoning Setsuko.
"Of course. Should we walk?"
The two of them left the foyer to stroll the house. It was not apparent as to why Yuuji wished to speak to Kyoya because so far, he had only been regarding the artwork in the house. He made little mumbling comments and asked little questions about the artist which were all meaningless and increasingly repetitive as they moved along the hallways aimlessly. Despite his quietness, Yuuji did not seem to be in his other mood, rather just deep in reflection.
They had wandered all the way to the billiards room, otherwise known as the 'Men's Room', as Fuyumi had often referred to it. The room held the memories of many business deals being sealed by Yoshio himself. The heavy stench of cigarette smoke had impregnated the red velvet walls as well as every sofa cushion. Mounted on the wall were antlers and caribou heads and also a cabinet stocked with bottles brandy and scotch. There were two sets of billiards tables, each beneath a tawny light hanging from the ceiling.
Yuuji eased himself down into a chair. "What a godawful game, billiards. Why do men need to shoot pool, shoot balls on a table with a long stick, to feel like men? Yo-san, probably doesn't care for it much either..."
What a pointless thing to discuss. "Yes, but it is the favourite game of-"
"Amos Andrews. Mr. Andrews owns a physiotherapy practice that he considers integrating with the Ootori hospitals and clinics. He has several times played an exterior consultant and would be genuinely appreciated and greatly rewarded in long term if he decided to merge with the Ootori Group, straight from the Yo-san's mouth."
Kyoya smiled. "Indeed."
"Ah, well. I do my homework," Yuuji quipped. "Anyway, I'm certain you're annoyed by the fact that I've asked to speak with you for no apparent reason..."
"Not at all."
Yuuji quirked an eyebrow. "Kyoya-kun. You're almost as good as your father when it comes to concealment. Almost."
He leaned back in the chair and inhaled deeply as if the stink of smoke weren't putrid. "It's nothing serious, Kyoya-kun. I just... I just wanted to know how everything has been in regards to Setsuko-chan."
"I understand. Is there anything you would like to know specifically?"
The old man looked as though he may spurt a thousand different things at once. He settled for a humble grin as he said, "Anything you can think of should suffice."
Kyoya found himself resisting a chuckle. "Please be easy, Yuuji-san. She has been monitored almost constantly. She has a GPS chip on her person at all times installed in her cellphone. She has never left the house unattended nor has she been engaging in any inappropriate activities."
I jumped on your daughter and let her kiss my neck until it was raw.
Yuuji swallowed. "Excellent. So, she has never been out alone?"
"I am with her every possible second."
She ran away from me at a party. I also let her go shopping. She spent all your money. On teddy bears.
"And she hasn't spoken to anybody suspicious? Any men?"
"No."
Two massive boys at a beach.
The lies were spilling out easily but when Kyoya thought about the boys at the beach, something in the back of his mind was urging to tell Yuuji. It somehow felt important. Then again, what use would it be? She hadn't been taken. Kyoya could hardly see the point, he barely remembered the faces of the boys; they were great big orgres with moronic grins, that was all... perhaps one was a redhead... yes, definitely...
For the first time since he arrived, Yuuji was motionless, no longer shifting in his paranoia. "Good. Good... Well, do you know anything... besides those things?" he asked. "Then again, I suppose not. After all, it was not your duty to know more than those things... I-I'm sorry."
Kyoya leaned against the billiards table. "I've done my duty efficiently, Yuuji-san. If there is anything else you would like to know...?"
"Anything. Er, everything."
Everything. Kyoya massaged the bridge of his nose. If I were to divulge everything that I know about Abukara Setsuko, we would be in this billiards room for a very long time. We would possibly die of starvation.
It was true. He knew many things about Setsuko, but to name each one of them consecutively, to talk about everything she definitely was and everything she certainly wasn't would be long and grueling, in more ways than one. Because, as it had been for about two months, Setsuko was everything.
That thought alone made him want to vomit or gouge his own eyes out of their sockets but it was undeniable. She had been the first face in the morning and the last face at night. And when exactly had he stopped hating her? He didn't know.
"I'm not sure if any of this information will satisfy your query... Setsuko-san wakes at 6:30 am and regularly goes to sleep at around 10:00 pm, assuming she does not nap in the afternoon, in which case she will be a ball of kinetic energy until midnight. She will not eat any green vegetables, as far as she knows. I have taken the measure of having them minced and disguised in cheese. Incidentally, Setsuko-san likes cheese more than an average person would." Which is strange.
"Her highest mark is in Biology and the lowest is in Advanced Functions. Since I have started tutoring her, her mark has risen by five percent. Her friends are our mutual friends, the boys from the Host Club," he said, bracing himself in case Yuuji reprimanded him. He did not. "Generally, they are the only others that she contacts with other than the servants from the mainhouse. She has befriended Aoi the chauffeur and Mei-san the maid who braids her hair on Saturday nights, if I refuse."
Kyoya had gotten quite good at braiding hair.
"Other than catching a cold in early May and intaking copious amounts of sweets which I am trying to ween her off of, Setsuko-san is healthy. She has grown half an inch. I've kept tabs on all her medicinal needs. Nothing more than Tylenol and Midol. Furthermore, Setsuko-san's mental health is in good shape. She is happy, mostly, aside from the times when she is bored." And then she becomes insufferable.
Yuuji had been listening fixedly. A squiggly little smile set in his thin lips and his eyes glinted with tears.
"Yuuji-san?"
"Oh, no, no. Nothing. I'm just glad you've gotten to know Setsuko-chan... are the two of you, err, friends?"
"Friends..." That is hardly the word. "Somewhat."
His eyebrows raised in apparent revelation. Yuuji's smile grew wider and there was a sickeningly patronizing quality about it, like he knew something that Kyoya did not. "Somewhat?"
The corner of Kyoya's mouth twitched. "Yes, Yuuji-san."
"Haa. Alright. That's... nice," he breathed. "That's a relief. I was worried she would be lonely."
"No." His throat was seizing as he forced the words out. "No, she hasn't been."
A silence enveloped the room. Now would be the opportunity to ask if she'll stay, he thought. Still, the words were clumps of sand in his throat, too difficult too force.
Just as he thought he would speak, Yuuji did first. "You know, this entire time, I was worried she may..."
The sentence was never finished. Yuuji's neurotic squirming returned with a vengeance. He had the appearance of some bedraggled homeless dog, wheezing slightly. He scratched furiously at his scalp as if he had ticks as he asked in a whisper, "Has she ever... spoken to anybody... uh, that is, specifically, uhh—"
"E-excuse me?"
A small voice peeped at the door. It was Mei who appeared to be slightly out of breath.
"May I help you?" Kyoya stood, annoyed by the fact that they had been interrupted.
"Yes, w-well, uhm, Setsuko-san has w-woken up and she is... angry."
Yuuji stood up immediately. "She's angry?"
"Sh-she wants t-to see her—"
"DADDY!"
She charged into the room and leapt like some jungle animal, propelling herself onto Yuuji, arms thrown around his body and fastened in a vice-like grip, unlikely to ever release. Kyoya did not know that two people could hug for so long.
It so happened that that was a typical reunion between the father and daughter. In the next instant (after the two of them were wrung from each other's grasp) normality was restored. Setsuko had toned down her attitude, likely because Yoshio entered the billiards room next looking particularly peeved and about fifteen years older.
Setsuko evidently decided that it was necessary to play the role of 'Perfect Daughter' again because she clipped the hair out of her face with that silver brooch and donned a long-sleeved gown that fell to the knee. She asked pleasant questions in a fluid, wispy voice, 'Did you enjoy your trip?' and 'Did you bring back any souvenirs?' It was downright unnerving. After he'd seen what he'd seen, Kyoya thought she looked like a puppet being made to act out a scenario in a show, but inanimate nonetheless.
Eventually, Yoshio was able to dispel all the excitement and insisted that everybody sit down for a dinner.
The dinner was spent with the men discussing the plans for the night following, a discussion led by Kyoya. Yuuji was in awe at his management skills; Kyoya reveled. He gloated about the ice sculptures that were being carved in the image of the Ootori family crest and about the orchestra that was prepared to serenade the guests until dawn.
Setsuko happily listened. She spent half the dinner being carted an endless succession of desserts. The downpour of brownies and apple cinnamon donuts made Kyoya's teeth hurt. Near the end, she was presented with a large glass goblet mounted with three gargantuan scoops of strawberry ice-cream that were ornamented with diamond cut strawberries, a lush pink on the inside. Yuuji scolded, "Now, darling, aren't you eating too many sweets?"
She frowned. "Father, sweets are for celebration and today is a celebration. You've come home. And tomorrow is also a celebration... andeveryday is a celebration of life, thus..."
"Setsuko-chan," he said. "If you have such a mind-set, you'll be obese."
She blinked, her eyes as two hollow, sapphire marbles that were positively gleaming in sadistic amusement. "I don't need to watch my figure... do you think I do, Kyoya-san?" she asked, sucking on a spoon.
How dare she test me? "Not at all, Setsuko-san." But if you want to grow more taller than a poodle on it's hind legs than you'll need more milk than what's in that ice-cream.
Setsuko began to look red in the face, stifling laughter.
Later, after everybody departed to their rooms (Yuuji to his car, off to the hotel) Kyoya sat on his bed. Just as the fantasy of sleep seemed to frolic through his mind with a cruel, enchanting promise of downy pillows and thick comfortors, he unfolded his laptop and busied himself with the banquet, double checking that everything was in order. He computed the costs thrice and compared them with the profit the party would surely achieve in long term relations. Just as he began to analyze the seating arrangement diagram, his door creaked open.
He only peaked up from the screen for a moment. It was Setsuko clad in some wholesome pair of pinstriped pajamas, the bottoms of which stopped at her mid-thigh. She skipped gleefully around the bed and toppled onto it behind him.
He noticed an error in the seating floor plan. With furrowed brows, he carefully began rearranging but found that it was turning into a frustrating game of spinning tables. His eyes hurt. He was sleepy. The pillow was as inviting as ever.
Kyoya felt her fingers crawling up his back like nimble spider legs kneading into the painful cricks in his back. He groaned, caught between pain and pleasure. She dug her thumbs into his shoulder blades, twisting harder and harder into his tense muscles.
"I'm busy. Stop."
"Hmm, I think you can afford a short break from micromanaging everything, can't you?"
Seating arrangements are finished. Double-check the scripts that the guest speakers handed in for their speeches. "I'm afraid that tonight is the night before the banquet. It is my responsibility to organize it and I'll continue until the last possible moment."
"Who made sure that you would be organizing the banquet?"
"I volunteered."
She gasped dramatically and curtly cried out before collapsing back on the mattress as if the words had savagely slain her. "It's just as I've feared! You're an addict, Mr. Ootori. You'll have to be sent to Work-a-holics anonymous."
"And you'll have to be sent to the mental hospital."
"Do not hide behind your quips," she taunted. "Addiction is nasty. You're a particularly dreadful case."
Kyoya squeezed his cotton-dry eyes. "Is there a reason you've interrupted me? This is very annoying."
Setsuko hummed. He felt a weight being lifted off the mattress. She had wiggled herself to the floor. "Do you know what I've eaten in excess tonight?"
"Calories?"
"Strawberries, Kyoya-kun," she tittered. "Did you know that strawberries are an aphrodisiac?"
"Indeed. So are almonds, asparagus, eggs and oysters."
Setsuko yawned animatedly. "And figs. Figs, of course, because they're shaped like—"
"Are you going anywhere important with this menial conversation?"
She rolled onto her back, staring at him. "Well, I've had too many, haven't I? Strawberries."
Kyoya was struggling to keep his concentration on the guest speaker speeches but they were all horribly monotonous and the light glaring from the computer screen was painful. He seemed to lose his ability to read as the words suddenly became muddled and nonsensical and much less important when compared to sleep and the girl lying on his bedroom floor.
"And so? You have a stomach ache now?"
With her golden hair sprawled out and falling everywhere, Setsuko rolled upright to stare at him, a sultry pout. "Surely, you jest. I doubt even you are so clueless to not recognize one of nature's great callings. All I want is some decent fun, or more preferably, some indecent fun. I've been very good recently, isn't that right?"
"More or less."
"Then, don't I deserve a reward?"
"The cookies would be in the kitchen, I imagine. You have permission to eat yourself into a coma."
"How generous," she drawled. "But I would rather eat you."
She was joking. She was teasing him. It was what she most enjoyed when she was bored.
Kyoya forced his eyes upon a speech written by an early sponsor of the Ootori Group. I feel much pride tonight to behold the success that the Ootori Group has achieved in these past twenty years and... Setsuko's blonde head was bobbing somewhere near the floor ... the grand attendance tonight can only be credited to Ootori Yoshio, of course, whose charisma as the founder... She was stretching and exposing every supple curve of her body ... and all I want to say is ashejbuecseer...
"I... cannot concentrate..." he muttered irefully to himself.
He skimmed over sentences, two times, three times, four times but nothing was processing. He could hear Setsuko making noises on the floor; mewling moans as she tried to entice him by airily whispering his name, elongated and sing-song, "Ky-ooo-ya-kuun."
Concentrate, he warned himself. Don't be so annoyed by small things.
"Don't make me do it myself."
Concentrate.
"Let's just have a little quiet fun," she purred playfully, caressing her milky thigh. "Hmm?"
Concentrate.
"If you would prefer not, I could be very loud instead. I wonder what Yoshio-san would think if he heard me? Heard me screaming," Setsuko let out a pleasured shriek. "your name?"
He ground his molars so hard they began to hurt. "Shut up."
"Oh, that bothers you?" Setsuko rolled over onto her back, raising her legs into the air. She let out one long, loud, lustful moan which morphed into a satisfied howl like a cat in heat, his name, echoing louder and louder with every time she released it from her lips in gasping breaths.
"Kyoya! Don't stop!"
"Shut—"
"Kyoya. Harde—"
"I said, shut up!"
In the next second, his laptop was strewn on the bed as good as forgotten and he had roughly tossed Setsuko herself on as well. In his blind torrent of irritation mingled with his hotblooded, overwhelming desire, he had somehow ended up hovering over her with his hands restraining her wrists.
"You're. So. Spoiled," he snapped. "You're a brat!"
His lips crashed down onto hers, clumsy and angry, as he forced himself into her mouth and tasted sweet peppermint on her tongue. Setsuko's cry of shock was swallowed into nothingness by his unrelenting kiss. For those long moments, his hands released her wrists, entangled themselves in her yellow hair and drifted along her skin, her flushed cheeks and the smooth, hot flesh beneath her jaw. Finally, he pulled away and gulped for air. Kyoya only resurfaced into sanity when he realized what he had done. A dumbfounded Setsuko lay beneath him.
"Wh-wha..." she uttered breathlessly, incomprehensively.
He got off. She slowly sat up but seemed dizzy in doing do, as if he had knocked her in the skull. He felt dizzy himself. His face was scorching.
I'm going to be ill. Setsuko continued to gawp at him and the hints of amusement on her face only aggravated him. No... no, I must already be ill.
Kyoya slid away to collect his laptop. He needed fresh air. He needed an open space. He wanted distance from Setsuko, to be somewhere quiet and secluded where he could perhaps smack himself repeatedly on the face or rip out his hair one handful at a time. Still, it wouldn't reverse what had been so thoughtlessly done.
Kyoya felt her eyes as they watched him — hair disheveled, glasses lopsided, tight jawed as he gave himself petty excuses to leave the bed, like storing his laptop and other miscellaneous books that had been lying on the table in some chest of drawers he'd never touched before, and suddenly deciding that his pen collection needed to be organized by classification of colour and manufacturer.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Setsuko impassively lay along the bed and close her eyes. "Mmm. Fascinating."
"... And just what is so fascinating?"
"I didn't expect that reaction at all," she purred. "The kissing I mean, everything else is rather ordinary."
Kyoya was much too exhausted to question any further (or to shove her to the floor as he originally thought was an excellent Plan Two). He walked back over to the bed and eased himself down, wondering if he could sleep now...
"You know, you're really fun to bother."
"Hmm."
"You're not easy, mind you."
"Right."
"Right." She turned over toward him and sighed sleepily. Kyoya's furtively glanced over his shoulder at her, all scrunched up like a squirrel. "Do you know what Tamaki told me once?"
In spite of himself, he asked, "What did he tell you?"
Setsuko giggled airily. "He said you're happiest when you're angry. You know, challenged. I thought that was just about the most curious thing I've ever heard..."
Kyoya swallowed and fought his growing bodily urge to move a muscle — any muscle. He remained perfectly still. He noted that her facial expressions had dulled and her breathing became even; her pretty pink eyelids were fluttering so slightly.
"But anyway... I thought it was nice... so," she yawned. "So I thought that if I can make you a little bit angry... or frustrated or embarrassed... maybe I could relieve some of your boredom... just a little bit..."
He watched her until she stopped moving.
He tossed his glasses on the desk and ground his knuckles into his itchy and burning eyes, battling back every crushing urge to shout until the windows were pulverized and his tongue fell out of his mouth. Why did tonight happen? Time have gone directly from yesterday evening to tomorrow morning and I wouldn't have done something like that...
Kyoya growled to himself, reliving it over and over. The taste of her mouth, the pathetic little noise she made against his tongue, how she gently pushed hers forth, kissing back and her skin, warm and red everywhere. A sticky residue of cherry lipgloss clung to his lips. Kyoya wanted so much to erase these things from existence. He wanted to erase them, even though it was admittedly quite nice, kissing her. But he wanted it erased nonetheless.
He gandered at the clock which read just past nine o'clock. So early.
He swiveled in his chair once more to get a look at Setsuko. Setsuko. She had just fallen asleep. She remained perfectly sane. It was unfair. What right did she have to waltz into the bedroom and wail on the floor like some perverted kitten? What right did she have to leave him in this state? Pupils dilated, moist palms, every inch of skin covered in goosebumps and his entire body shaken from the core.
Setsuko. Setsuko. On his mattress. Using his pillow. And his comforters. Now they would all smell like cinnamon and icing and cake batter...
And strawberries, probably.
A/N: Confession — I think that if Yuuji wasn't in love with Maria and Yoshio wasn't so uptight, the two of them would get it on and have amazing sex. Then Kyoya would have a sassy gay dad... and... is that wrong?
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