Chapter 14 - Everybody Talks
The unseasonal mildness of the day after three days of snow and several more spent clearing it away is welcomed by grateful Tokyo city-dwellers. It seems as if half the metropolis is intent on breathing fresh air with sidewalks more crowded than usual and streets packed to capacity. Outside Haruhi's apartment building, the walkways are clean though the side street on which she resides is still thick with slush.
Also outside Haruhi's apartment building is Team Kyoya, who waits for their young master. The three men in black are always on call whenever Kyoya-sama leaves the Ootori estate. Their days are long and their responsibility weighty. As Kyoya's Family Guard, they never question their role, their duty or the necessity to put their lives on the line for the third son of the Ootori clan.
Hotta leans against the black Phantom enjoying the day as much as anyone. At 35 years old, he's been given the job of Kyoya-sama's chauffeur. It is a great honor. Aijima, the eldest of the three men at 45 years old, stands further down the road, arms crossed, watching the general vicinity. Tachibana, 39 years of age and longest in the employ of the Ootori family has, of course, been closest to where their young master is located. He is serious-minded, discreet in the extreme and very patient as he waits for Kyoya to emerge from the apartment he's visiting.
Hotta notices Aijima heading his way and shortly thereafter he sees Kyoya descending the staircase at the far end of the building. Hotta is a keen observer of his charge and something's off. The usually stern-faced, buttoned-up young Ootori is sauntering, hands in pockets, with his coat open, face lifted to the sky. As he nears, the bodyguard hears off-key humming but knows better than to notice. Humming, like whistling, is déclassé but it's not for him to correct.
"New haircut, Hotta-san?" Kyoya queries as Hotta steps in ahead of the brunet to open the car door for him.
"You know that I am bald, Kyoya-sama."
"But you look especially sharp today," the brunet cheerfully compliments.
"I am pleased that you consider my appearance to be acceptable."
He looks at Aijima. "You as well, Aijima-san."
"Thank you, Ootori-sama."
"Very good. Take me home, please."
"As you wish."
Kyoya gathers his topcoat around himself and slides into the car. I have a date with Haruhi. The smile that lights his face is genuine.
Hotta pushes the door closed and he and Aijima look at one another in confusion at their young master's uncharacteristic attitude. Aijima gets in the passenger seat curbside as Hotta walks around the front of the car to get behind the wheel, street-side. Tachibana appears on his right, as if from nowhere, his slim frame angled to peer through both his dark glasses and the tinted window, brow furrowed, mouth set in a thin line.
Don't stare, my friend. It's rude. And no, I'm not drugged or otherwise unnaturally affected. I'm just...thinking about a girl.
The Ootori bodyguard, whose hair turned silver while still in his twenties, gets into the car beside him and they pull out into the street. Kyoya peers through the window to catch a last glimpse of Haruhi's door as they roll past. Already I miss you.
The drive home will be at least thirty minutes with Sunday traffic. He sinks into the seat and closes his eyes. The afternoon had turned out better than he'd hoped. He'd only gone to Haruhi's to return the umbrella. Right? Accurate, though untrue. He could have returned it at school but he needed a reason, any reason, to see her. It was a compulsion much like the way he feels when he spies a promising stock option before the major players vie for control. He has to have it.
...I'm not a transaction, Kyoya. I'm a person...
Yes, Haruhi, you are indeed flesh and blood and warm to the touch. Wonderfully so.
He recalls the way she looked when she opened the door. Delightfully unpretentious, but it was clear she'd been crying. What about? He still doesn't know. A strange ache presses his chest and he takes in a breath through his nose. He holds it for a three-count and slowly releases it through pursed lips, calming his mind with his usual mantra. A disciplined mind is a powerful mind and Kyoya has practiced focused meditation since youth. The ache subsides but his thoughts veer again, this time into the body memory of her in his arms.
Even now, the heat she triggers in absentia arouses. It makes no sense to want her so desperately, but I do. Her greenness is provocative, her reactions genuine and he loves the idea that he's the one evoking them in her for the first time. She's not easily swayed, either. Her business-like approach to their dating appeals to his logical side while her feminine attributes appeal to something altogether different.
It means she's prudent in her decisions. Laudable. And she'll only permit what she actually wants which makes taking liberties a calculated challenge. I can deal with that. I welcome it. Nothing keeps Haruhi's interest but her true feelings in any given matter so I'll know where I stand; always a sound position when faced with unknown variables and certainly better than the hell I've been living.
Two weeks. That's how long it had taken Kyoya to deliberately approach Haruhi after their heated exchange after club hours. Two weeks of justifying pursuit of a girl he thought his best friend wanted. Two weeks of covert planning with Fujioka-san to impress the girl who has caught his attention with sudden ferocity. Two weeks of pushing the feelings she made him feel aside, her background a seemingly insurmountable obstacle, only to have them return every time he saw her. He can't deny them any longer. He doesn't.
If Tamaki has taught me anything, it's that my life is mine. Haruhi says so, as well. Similar wisdom from two very different people must have a legitimate basis. Perhaps, with Haruhi by my side, I can live that life fully.
But what of Tamaki? The blond's emotions are clear and Kyoya realizes that they've probably been in place for some time. Maybe since the beginning. Even so, Friday night was a mistake. Chalk it up to adolescence, alcohol and hormones. Tamaki has to understand that there will be no further "indiscretions" between us. Of course, Tamaki being Tamaki might not see that so clearly. How could I have been so stupid? How? It was Tamaki, moron. He knows you like a book and read you exactly right.
Kyoya's good mood is marred by the intrusion of recalled events of the last few days. He'd gone to the second Suoh mansion the previous evening secure in his mind about where Tamaki and he stood with one another. He wanted his best friend to know that he trusted him and he did, even after he awoke to find the blond standing over him. Tamaki might be emotional, but he's not stupid.
So why then did he toss and turn all night knowing that the blond who slept nearby would not refuse him a warm bed and body if he but asked? I want Haruhi, not Tamaki. But he knows that similar intimacy with Haruhi might be weeks, months, maybe even years from being what he wants it to be if she's very conservative. Meanwhile, Tamaki is ready, willing and able. I want him as my friend. But the word 'lover' hovers dangerously near as do the feelings the blond evoked within him.
He imagines Haruhi doing what Tamaki had done, drawing in breath as blood pools in his groin, tightening in anticipation. The image is too hot to even contemplate right now and he stifles the thought with a small groan. But he can't entirely. The conjured images play havoc with him. He knows how Haruhi's lips feel against his and how Tamaki's mouth felt on other parts of his body. He'd have to satisfy some of his stronger urges before the evening began or he'd be at their mercy.
"No lineage, no connections, nothing to offer. She's just an ordinary girl, Tamaki." That's what he'd told Tamaki a few weeks after Haruhi had joined Host Club. They were discussing her background and Tamaki suggested that his "daughter" might one day marry a wealthy son of Ouran, hypothetically of course, to which Kyoya had said, "That's highly unlikely as she has…" No lineage? True. No connections? Procurable. Nothing to offer? How could I anticipate how wrong I'd be? Ordinary? Perhaps not nonpareil, but certainly exceptional. And totally desirable.
Thoughts of Tamaki are negated as he focuses on the hour or so spent with the petite brunette. He knows what he wants from her. It's everything: every thought, every feeling, every fantasy. He wants to know every square inch of her body and taste her intimately, make her quiver because of his touch. And he wants her hands on him doing things she only does for him, her mouth making him swear to the heavens and curl his toes.
What is it about you that so captures me? It's not simply physical attraction as you allege, though I have always noticed your subtle looks. But it was more than that - your trust in Okinawa, your insight at Bonmal and your courage in standing up to my father at Ouran. I've been tough with you for your own good, even dismissive, but you've seen through every pose without effort. Perhaps, with you, I can just be myself. Only the idiot did that before you, but he's still an idiot and you...you are Haruhi.
He wants to indulge her, take her places she's never been, introduce her to what he takes for granted knowing that her common sense will prohibit her ever becoming spoiled. He's impatient for their date to begin. What might she wear? What might she wear? This is Haruhi. She doesn't have brothers and Ranka's clothes are out of the question. He doesn't want to embarrass her but she might be more embarrassed if she doesn't dress appropriately.
Tachibana's and Hotta's loyalty and silence are assured and Kyoya's smartphone is off speaker-mode. He pulls out the device and taps on the entry for Hitachiin Kaoru. Two voices answer.
"I really wish you'd stop answering individual calls as a unit," Kyoya begins. "When I want to speak to Hikaru, I will call Hikaru. Right now, I wish to speak to Kaoru."
"No can do," Hikaru says. "I'll find out everything, anyway, so save my brother the trouble of trying to remember your conversation."
Kaoru's voice is heard. "What do you want, senpai?"
I want your brother off the line but since that's not going to happen... "I need something fashionable from your mother's Young Men's Collection sent to Haruhi's home by 4 p.m. today. Bill it to the Ootori account."
"And why, pray tell, is that?" Kaoru says, curiosity piqued.
"Yeah, why?" Hikaru demands. "You're not going someplace with her, are you?"
"Please explain how any of that's your business, Hikaru."
"Take it easy, Hika. S'ok," Kaoru soothes.
"Like hell it is. I've been trying to work up my courage since last year to ask Haruhi out again and now Mr. Cool blows up my spot."
That isn't exactly hard to do when you take forever to make a move.
"Are you really taking Haruhi out, senpai?" Kaoru asks, sounding somewhat impressed.
Kyoya pushes at his glasses. "If I tell you, will you deliver the outfit?"
"Yes," says Kaoru.
"No," says Hikaru.
Damn Hitachiins. Kyoya keeps his temper as losing it will gain him nothing. The hush between the usually enmeshed twins extends into an uncomfortable silence.
Kaoru's voice is the first to break the rift. "Hikaru, it can't be a date if Haruhi is wearing menswear."
"Then why is Kyoya-senpai paying for it? Shouldn't he be adding it to her debt?"
"That is a good question." Silence resume for several seconds that feel like minutes.
"Listen, senpai, your silence is just proof that we're right," says Hikaru.
"Is that your judicious assessment?" Kyoya responds.
"Wait," Kaoru adds. "Are you aiming to be her boyfriend or just a boyfriend buddy?"
"A what?" Kyoya is taken off-guard.
Hikaru chimes in, "Her boyfriend buddy - a guy who's more than a friend but less than a boyfriend."
"I confess I'm not familiar with such terminology though I'm not surprised that you are."
"Want to know what it means?" Hikaru asks.
"Don't Hika," Kaoru warns.
Without pause, Hikaru says, "It means you'll get to wine and dine Haruhi but don't expect her knees to unlock for you any time soon, if ever. She's got more sense than that."
The controlled intensity of Kyoya's voice buzzes the line. "Kaoru, may I suggest that you inform your older-but-less-wise sibling that should he reference Haruhi in any way with anything less than the utmost respect, I will personally see to it that his face no longer, in any way, resembles yours. Have I made myself clear?"
"No worries," Kaoru says. "I'll take care of it. And I'll have something sent to Haruhi's place."
"Aww, piss up a rope, senpai," Hikaru hisses.
"Thank you, Kaoru. Ever the sensible Hitachiin. It doesn't have to be formal, just appropriate for an evening at the National Theater."
"See Hika? It can't be a date 'cause Haruhi is going as a guy. It's just an outing. Hey senpai, is the Boss going, too?"
"And why would Tamaki be involved?"
"Ummm - okay, I guess not. You're not a couple or anything."
Kyoya stills completely for a moment, then says,"We are not. Tamaki is a friend just as Haruhi is a friend. Any more questions?"
"Yeah," Hikaru says. "When's the birthday bash?"
"Next Sunday afternoon. Ranka is reserving his club."
"The tranny bar?" both twins ask with a hint of incredulity in their voices.
"The okama venue, yes. It will not be so at that time, of course, and the décor will be made considerably more elegant for the event. Which reminds me - might your grandmother be persuaded to create several arrangements for the room? She will, of course, be remunerated for her artistry."
Kaoru tells him, "She's in Tibet right now, but she's due back this week. We'll ask her and let you know."
"The sooner the better, please." Kyoya notes the time stamp on his phone. "Thank you, Kaoru...Hikaru. Your cooperation today is most appreciated. My tolerance level for your antics has increased slightly."
"Are we supposed to say thank you for that?" Hikaru inquires snidely.
"Only if it matters to you since it makes no difference to me," rejoins Kyoya.
"Snarky, senpai," Hikaru jibes. "I'm done."
"Ummm, Kyoya?" Kaoru quietly asks.
"Is your brother off the line?"
"Yeah. He's talking to someone else. So…senpai…"
"What is it now?" Kyoya replies with an air of monotony.
"We will get a full report, won't we?"
"Meaning what exactly?" he repeats in exactly the same cadence and tone as before.
"Look, I know this is a date however you want to disguise it. I'm cool with that but I don't want to upset Hikaru."
"That seems fairly easy to do, but I trust you'll manage your elder brother's temper. It would benefit you to do so."
"I know that. But, now that you know that I know what's going down...well?"
Of course it would come to this. "Encouraging gossip is not the act of a gentleman or have you forgotten that?"
"Neither is swearing, but you do that, don't you senpai?"
Kyoya considers a sharp comeback, but stops when he sees Tamaki's ID appear under Call Waiting. He mutters an ungentlemanly obscenity. "Can you hold, Kaoru? I have another call."
"It's the Boss," Kaoru informs.
"Hold," Kyoya states with deadly calm. His aggravation peaks as he puts Kaoru on Hold and opens a new line. "Tamaki, may I call you back, please?"
"No, Kyoya, you can not call me back because we need to talk right now." The blond sounds as agitated as Kyoya is feeling.
"Tamaki-"
"I'm calling an emergency meeting of the Host Club," he announces and the brunet is certain that regardless of the fact that no one can see him, Tamaki is standing with his arm outstretched, finger pointed to invisible hosts.
Arguing will be useless, so he attempts evasion, "Tamaki, I can't do this now."
"Boss, it's Kaoru. I'm on con-call now," the ginger interrupts.
"This is absurd," Kyoya insists.
"No, it's not. It's great!" Hikaru says with glee. Kyoya groans.
Tamaki cuts in. "Hikaru - Get Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai on the line."
"Already here, Tama-chan," announces Honey.
"You're lucky I was still home," Mori adds. "What's going on?"
Kyoya's hand presses to his forehead as his head drops forward.
Tamaki asks, "Does your con-call app allow more than six, Hikaru?"
"Yeah," Hikaru says trying to sound innocent. "Haruhi should be here, too."
"NO." Kyoya's head lifts at once, his voice overriding the chatter. They all fall silent. "This conversation is not including Haruhi and is not happening. Period. End of story. I'm hanging up."
"Kyoya." It's Tamaki, sounding rather firm. Kyoya's thumb hovers over End Call. "We need to talk. And I want the privacy divider up."
"Uh-oh," Kaoru says.
"It's gonna be joo-cy," Hikaru says.
"Tamaki," says Kyoya with a modicum of calm, a twinge over his left eyebrow making itself known. It will blossom into a migraine if he doesn't take his headache meds soon. "This is neither the time nor place to discuss anything with you, let alone with the entire contingent of the Host Club." He hopes the blond will drop this idiocy.
"But Haru-chan isn't here," laments Honey.
Mori adds, "She is a host and should be present if this is a Host Club meeting."
Tamaki takes on a benevolent tone. "Thank you, Mori-senpai, for being a voice of reason amidst this crisis."
"What crisis?" Honey inquires sounding a further note of concern.
"So, Kyoya," Mori adds without missing a beat, "You're taking Haruhi on a date?"
"Called it!" shouts Kaoru.
"I hate you, senpai," Hikaru gruffs.
"Didn't think you had it in you," adds Mori, approving.
"That's awesome," Honey compliments.
Kyoya's patience is gone. "How is this anybody's business but mine!?" he shouts leaning forward, then slumping back into the seat as the twinge becomes a solid thudding.
"Why didn't you say something last night?" Kaoru asks.
"Don't think it's going to lead to anything, senpai," Hikaru adds.
"I think it's great that Haru-chan said yes," Honey points out.
"So, when did all this begin?" Mori wants to know.
It's clear that their curiosity and excitement overrides their fear of ruffling the Shadow King's feathers. Only one voice remains unexpressed and it's the only one in which Kyoya is interested. So he asks, "And you, Tamaki? Am I to take it from your agitated state that you're less than thrilled with the idea?"
He expects, much as they all do, an emotional outburst. When cold silence is the only response he gets, Kyoya admonishes, "If you're sulking, understand that it doesn't work nearly so well over the phone as it does in person. If you're fuming, take a deep breath so you don't explode. And if you're thinking that this so-called meeting will have any bearing on who I escort, when, where or why, know that it doesn't."
"Then it's true," Tamaki says with a tone of snubbed disappointment.
"I didn't think you'd have a problem with it considering our earlier conversation."
"Conversation isn't the only thing I'm considering, Kyo."
Moron! Kyoya's blood boils at the thought that Tamaki might reveal more than is wise. "Tamaki," he warns with menace in his voice. "Let's talk about this at another time, alright?"
The tension on the line is palpable and not a single host interferes in the delicate communication between the club's founders, best friends and now-seeming rivals. The seconds slip by and finally Tamaki says in an overly dramatic voice that evokes an image of a stricken prince, "I'm sorry to have bothered everyone. You all have private lives and I have no right to interfere with them. Adieu until tomorrow."
"Tamaki," Kyoya says."Tamaki?" he queries, but he's gone. "Damn idiot!" he blares into the phone.
"Well, that was theatrical," Hikaru opines.
"Ummm, we've got to go, too, senpai," Kaoru says nervously. "See you tomorrow. And remember what you promised, okay?" They disconnect.
A few moments of silence slip by before Honey says, "It'll be okay, Kyo-chan. If Haru-chan wants to, that's all that matters."
Mori says, "Give Tamaki time. But if you need to talk-"
"We're here for you," Honey finishes.
"I'll have it sorted out by tomorrow's Host Club session," Kyoya responds, trying to sound unconcerned as he pushes at his glasses. "And if not- let's just try to keep things cool, shall we?"
"Sure," Mori promises.
"You can count on us," Honey seconds.
"Thank you, gentlemen."
They disconnect and the hand holding the phone collapses into Kyoya's lap. "Shiite," he swears under his breath as he stares out the window, the city limits now left behind. How did things get out of hand so quickly? He gives the matter a few more seconds of focused thought, then encapsulates it in his mind, tucking it away for later consideration. He closes his eyes and, with two fingers, rubs at the spot on his brow that hurts most.
"Are you in pain, young Master?" Tachibana's austere persona voices itself beside him.
The man's nearly invisible presence returns Kyoya to his surroundings. "Just a bit of a headache is all."
"Do you require medication?"
"Yes, please."
The man reaches into an inner jacket pocket and pulls out a small zippered pouch. He extracts a single tablet, placing it into the waiting hand of the young man next to him. Taking a water bottle from the cooler, Tachibana uncaps it and hands it similarly to Kyoya. "Please remember that this is a different prescription than before. Its full effects on you are as yet unknown."
"I realize that but," Kyoya says turning his face to look at Tachibana, "I have plans this evening that I will not cancel."
"An outing?"
"Yes," he says. Then, "No. It's a...date...with Fujioka Haruhi."
Tachibana's face remains impassive. "Your classmate?"
"And special friend," Kyoya adds, deciding that 'boyfriend-buddy' lacks class while 'special friend' allows for more than Hikaru described without a formal commitment. It's accurate, for now. He waits for the reaction.
"I will do my utmost to ensure that you and Fujioka-san are untroubled for the evening. You may count on me, young master."
Kyoya continues to watch the face of the dedicated employee until the man lifts a hand to shift his dark glasses down his nose a bit. The green eyes behind the lens meet his with unwavering honesty and lack of judgment.
"Thank you," Kyoya replies. "And I trust you'll say nothing to my father until I have a chance to speak with him myself?"
"Of course, unless you give me reason to do otherwise. Hotta will also abide."
The phrase tells Kyoya that Tachibana won't reveal anything to Ootori Yoshio without informing Kyoya first. It's a less-than-perfect arrangement, but it works. Kyoya nods and sits back, taking the analgesic and forcing himself to relax into the contoured leather seat. He stares at the wallpaper of his cellphone. It's a photo of the Host Club entire, Haruhi sitting squarely at the center of things. Her smiling face reminds him that despite what anyone says, she's made her interest known and agreed to go out with him.
Nothing else matters. As for Tamaki…I'll deal with him tomorrow. I've got this under control.
He just wishes he felt as certain as he tells himself.
End - Chapter 14 - Everybody Talks
Everybody Talks - Neon Trees [Kyoya-centric]
Hey baby, won't you look my way?
I can be your new addiction.
Hey baby, what you gotta say?
All you're giving me is fiction.
I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time.
I found out that everybody talks,
Everybody talks, everybody talks.
CHORUS
It started with a whisper
And that was when I kissed her.
And then she made my lips hurt.
I could hear the chitchat.
Take me to your love shack.
Mama's always got a backtrack
When everybody talks back.
Hey honey, you could be my drug.
You could be my new prescription.
Too much could be an overdose.
All this trash talk make me itchin'.
Oh my, my. Shit.
Everybody talks, everybody talks,
Everybody talks too much.
CHORUS
Never thought I'd live to see the day
When everybody's words got in the way.
Hey sugar, show me all your love.
All you're giving me is friction.
Hey sugar, what you gotta say?
CHORUS
Everybody talks (5x)
Everybody talks... back.
It started with a whisper. (everybody talks, everybody talks)
And that was when I kissed her. (everybody talks, everybody talks)
Everybody talks.
Everybody talks... back.