Pairing: KyouyaxHaruhi
Rating: T – for mentions of things. Just...things. And language. Don't use bad language in every day speech! It's bad –angry face-
Written for: finishing this. I need to finish this soon. It's long and I'm sure readers are starting to wonder why I'm dragging this out. I'M NOT. I SWEAR! Sorry for boring you T_T
Dedicated to: Bubblybunny153 for such an enthusiastic first review of chapter 20! hehe, yes, it's Renge! Also, shoutouts to such familiar and lovely readers who left reviews as well: DarkRavie, Aletheotaku, and Destinies Entwined (Bri!). You're all so fantastic, and know how to make me smile. And a SPECIAL thanks to greetingsfrommaars for pointing out a very bad error I made on my part in the previous chapter. I've changed "persecute" to "prosecute" as it should be. Thanks for pointing that out to me! And so sorry for my carelessness!
Warning: Beware of slight OOCness due to plot and character development.
Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran or any of its characters. They belong only to the great Bisco Hatori-sama (and BONES and Funimation)...buuuuut for now, Endless Story belongs to me. MOOHAHAHAHA!
Endless Story
A Kyouya and Haruhi Tale
By, Yue Guang Kuroneko
Chapter Twenty-One:
I think that the stars would have waited for us
Hanging onto the night, watching down below
Until we were hand in hand, together waiting for them
So when I open my eyes, I saw it too
Stars falling down
Stars falling down
("Stars Falling Down" by Kina Grannis (Paul Dateh Remix))
"GAH! I hate working!" Houshakuji Renge cried out as she threw her hands up in the air in an act of surrender. She plunged her face into a pillow she kept at her desk for such distressing occasions and muttered curses under her breath.
She pulled out little dolls of extreme likeness to her father and herself from a hidden drawer under her desk, and began to mimic them.
"Renge, in order to get you ready to take control of the company, I strongly suggest you employ yourself first," Papa Doll said in a deep voice.
"But Father!" Renge Doll protested. "I don't want to take control! I want to marry a handsome shining bright knight on a white horse!"
"None of that, Renge! I am an evil warlord and I refuse to let you do what you want any longer! You are an adult now—I've satisfied your pathetic little whims long enough! DO MY BIDDING, DAUGHTER-SLAVE!" Papa Doll roared.
"You're so mean, Daddy!" Renge Doll hit Papa Doll with such ferocity that he flew across the room, hit the wall, and fell to the floor with an unceremonious thump.
Renge sighed as she stood to pick up the doll. It was unfair of her to be so angry with her father for making her work, but still, she huffed, did it have to be so unglamorous? Stuck in an office, required to wear proper pantsuits, and answer to a demoness of a president? She was better off doing her own little printing business in fan comics. She did make quite a profit, even after the Shadow King of the Host Club deducted the Host Club's percentage of the share, so why couldn't she just continue doing something she liked for a living? Besides, she was doing fairly well at the previous printing company that allowed her some creative endeavors.
Her phone rang, and Renge hurried back to her desk to answer it, "Yes, this is Houshakuji speaking."
"Houshakuji," the demoness's voice slithered out of the phone and Renge had to suppress a shudder. Her job wouldn't be so bad if her boss had been someone kinder. And male. More specifically, a handsome male. Even more specifically, a handsome, single, straight male. "There is someone who would like to meet with you. I've sent him to your office to discuss any details. He should be there very soon."
Renge perked up at the male pronouns used, "Yes, President. Thank you."
At that moment, there was a knock at the door, and Renge hurried to put away her dolls and straighten her blazer and hair.
"Come in," she called out in her more seductive voice. She was hoping that whatever hunk was behind that door was single. And straight. Her run-ins with gay men were too frequent—though they did satisfy her inner fangirl very much.
When the door opened and revealed a very familiar face, Renge's jaw dropped open. Her eyes followed suit.
"Houshakuji-san," Ootori Kyouya said, his lips pursed in an unaffectionate smile. He nodded at the demoness's secretary to dismiss her. The little woman gave Renge a dismayed look before she closed the door. "How are you?"
"Kyouya-kun..."
"You haven't changed at all," Kyouya chuckled darkly. "Are you finished gaping at me?"
"I thought you—I mean, that is to say—I thought you left Japan?"
"Just a bit of a business trip," he replied.
They were left in silence until Renge realized she hadn't offered him a seat.
"Oh, I'm sorry, please sit."
"Thank you." Kyouya was cool and aloof as usual. Like he hadn't changed.
"Now how may I help you?"
"You are the one who is in charge of the annual reports for the Asakura Corporation, am I right?"
"Yes." Renge cleared her throat. She was aware of her reputation for putting out flawed annual reports. Though, she defended herself, she just wanted to be in a more creative field, and decided to get creative with the reports. And it did land her with a job at the Asakura Corporation a few years ago. Even though, technically, she didn't want to be there. Her other job had been much more satisfying. Renge gave herself a mental note to play out that scenario with her dolls later.
"We'd like to discuss a proposition."
"'We'?" Renge inquired.
Kyouya smirked, and Renge swallowed hard as he said, "Will you have time for a business lunch sometime within the next week, Houshakuji-san?"
"Well, that was easier than expected," Haruhi exhaled as she stretched, enjoying the cool autumn air out on the balcony. She and Kyouya were having dinner a few days after Kyouya's meeting with Reiko. She was rather surprised when she returned to the condo after her run to the Law Library to see Kyouya in the kitchen, cooking. She never thought she would see him doing anything domestic. She made sure to watch him just long enough to etch the memory and image into her brain. "Renge-san never did seem like someone who would turn down this opportunity. Asakura-san, however..."
"She's curious," Kyouya replied simply as he took a sip of white wine that went along with their pasta. "She can't help herself."
"Mm," Haruhi mumbled through a mouthful of the delicious pasta. Who knew Kyouya was such a good cook? "Kyouya, where did you learn to cook?"
"In England. Their food didn't sit well with me."
"It is a pleasant surprise," Haruhi laughed. "We always went out to eat when we were in America." Her laughter faded at Kyouya's thoughtful, solemn look. She decided to change the subject, "What will be your next move in the case?"
Haruhi watched him speak with her chin resting on her palm. His eyes lit up as they ventured away from the topic of America, where they left behind dark memories. He was almost in his element in Japan. This new challenge, having to do everything himself, in spite of being watched by both the Ootori Police Force and the Asakura Security Alliance, was something that excited him. Even though it was inconvenient, Haruhi had no doubts that Kyouya was enjoying himself.
Their lunch meeting with Renge went very, very well. She was receptive and honest and open, and more importantly, very willing to help them with their cause. Though, Haruhi stifled a laugh, Renge had nearly fallen out of her seat when Kyouya walked up to the table with her on his arm. When Haruhi discovered Renge's part in the Asakura Corporation, she was relieved. She knew the avid fangirl well enough to know that the fangirl would not be difficult to work with.
"Your thoughts are drifting, Haru," Kyouya's smooth voice brought her out of her thoughts.
"Mm," Haruhi closed her eyes to feel the breeze. "It's been a while since we've gotten a chance to unwind like this." She opened her eyes again to observe the handsome man across from her. Tie loosened, stiff shirt collar undone, revealed a patch of smooth skin that led up to a shapely Adam's apple, and a distinct jawline. His dark hair was smoothed back loosely with hair product, so that strands of hair fell gracefully into his dark eyes, hidden under those damn glasses that somehow skyrocketed that notch of sexiness. He always did have an attractive smile, she decided, but there was almost a withered look under his eyes and at the corners of his lips. She almost wanted to kiss them away.
She blushed at the thought. Ever since she and Kyouya had started fulfilling their sexual needs, she found herself more and more attracted to him during prolonged times together. Just a small spark of realization, and she would have to actively rewire her body to stop reacting to fantasies in her head. It doesn't help either when Kyouya picks up on those sparks and seduces her. She was only grateful that this had not happened in public or in any conspicuous place. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought the balcony would be one of the places the adventurous Ootori Kyouya wanted to...
She willed her mind to skitter away from the thought.
The twins and Tamaki spent the day at the library with her; the twins complaining—loudly, may she add—of their boredom. She ended up sending the twins away on a 'business' run, explaining to them that she needed some updates on Ootori Akito. They warped out of the library. Tamaki had always been a more quiet type, and sat with her, his eyes intent on his own company's workings and numberings. She told him that he needn't be there when his office would be far more comfortable, but he only smiled and kept working, and Haruhi felt at peace. As much as she loved the energies of the Host Club, it was hard not to appreciate that they've all grown up.
"I heard you sent the twins to check up on Akito?" Kyouya inquired as he settled his utensils on the table.
"Nothing gets by you, does it?" chuckled Haruhi as she leaned back in her seat. She's grown far to accustomed to this place. She didn't know how she felt about that.
"Nothing," he replied, equally as relaxed as she was.
They probably shouldn't be as relaxed as they currently were; they are not only treading upon one of the two biggest corporate offices in Japan, but they were treading on both of them. She wondered briefly how Kyouya's small company would be able to defeat his father's and his sister-in-law's companies. Still, Kyouya was never one to be underestimated. He made cons into pros without a single thought. It was in his blood, engrained in his very being. He would have made a very competitive lawyer.
Haruhi laughed at that, and smiled in response when Kyouya raised an elegant eyebrow.
He insisted, when they left the U.S., for her to bring her easel and more beloved painting materials, which were now set up on the opposite side of the veranda. She gazed over at it now, feeling no particular itch in her fingers to start a new painting. In the end, she wondered if her interest in painting had been some sort of replacement for Kyouya, and now that she had him, would she still want to paint? Haruhi entertained the thought of not painting anymore, only to find that it made her feel slightly lonely.
"Kyouya." She decided to venture a little bit into her partner's darkness. "Have you spoken to Yuuichi at all?"
She could see Kyouya pause at her familiarity with his eldest brother. He turned to her, eyes hidden behind the reflection of light on his glasses, "No. Why do you ask?"
"I think it would be nice if you gave him a call."
"You don't want me seeing Akito, but you're fine with me speaking to the eldest brother who has the least emotion out of the Ootori brothers?" He didn't sound angry. He sounded amused.
"Family is family."
"Speaking to Yuuichi would mean I would have to speak to father sooner than I'd like." Kyouya loosened his tie and then left it undone around his neck. "You know how he is."
"Yes," Haruhi was careful with her words. "But perhaps he could help us."
Kyouya didn't seem too happy about that thought, "Why would you think he would be willing to help us?"
"I don't know."
She was honest. It was a bit of a whimsical request, but the more she thought about their situation, the more appealing contacting Yuuichi seemed. Yuuichi always was hands-off when it came to Kyouya's life, even while they were at Ouran. Akito had been the one to always take it upon himself to be up-to-date with Kyouya's grades, social life, and the like. From an ice-cold family like the Ootoris, Haruhi had no doubt that Kyouya's affections for the second eldest came from this strange form of attention. In a way, Akito's attention was the only way he knew how to display affection. However, there was no manner in which Yuuichi wouldn't harbor affection for his brothers, despite the youngest having the motivation to take what the oldest thought was rightfully his.
The rich must be a lot more miserable than she thought.
"Haru," Kyouya said, reaching over the table to grasp her hand in his. "I really don't think Yuuichi would be willing to help us. He wasn't exactly thrilled when I was announced the heir, and he was even angrier when I said I didn't want it."
"He might have changed. Shouldn't we give him the benefit of the doubt? Besides," Haruhi added, "if we succeed, don't you think he can keep your father from snooping around too much?"
Kyouya laughed at this and squeezed her hand, "Haruhi."
"Hmm?" Haruhi gazed up at him as she realized that he was now standing in front of her. He knelt down and kissed her palms gently, sending pleasant tingles up her arms and into her fingers. His hair, loosened from their hold by the breeze, caressed her arm, and she wanted to run her hands through it. Working his way up her to wrists, Haruhi watched as he hesitated, placed a firm kiss on each wrist, and then stood back up.
"I'll clean up," Kyouya's voice was faint. "I want you to paint tonight."
Paint? He must have realized the easel sat, untouched, a little over a week they've been back in Tokyo. An instant flood of fondness for this lover and best friend coursed through her veins, into the very pit of her stomach, and she had to violently blink away tears.
She watched him as he gathered up the plates and utensils, and headed inside, but not without gesturing for her to seat herself at her easel to paint. Haruhi relented and did what she could to seat herself upon the stool and gaze at the white canvas. But the subject of her painting failed her. She grasped it, and then it skittered away, skipping and laughing into the abyss of her infinite mind, and was lost completely.
"Artist's block," she mumbled. She stretched out her limbs, raising her face to the night sky, and was disappointed to meet with a sheet of black. The stars were nowhere to be seen. Only a few, bigger, brighter ones shone past the foggy atmosphere and all of the city lights, but it felt lonesome. It made her feel lonesome.
Kyouya placed a cup of hot jasmine tea at the table next to her elbow and left her in peace.
From the corner of her eye, she could see Kyouya seated upon his wicker chair with a book. She had never been much of the domestic type. She did what she had to—clean the house, wash the dishes—but she never thought about having to join with someone, create new life, and be a wife and a mother. She thought she liked the thought of it, the first time she and Kyouya were together, but now, she wondered, why did that thought make her feel lonelier than it did before?
Kyouya noticed Haruhi's stillness from across the open space. He lifted his eyes from his book to find her gazing at him, her brows furrowing in perplexed concentration. She wasn't quite looking at him, but she wasn't gazing past him either.
He'd almost done it, and, at the last minute, feeling Haruhi's unsettledness, pulled back to wait. He resolved to wait until at least after they solved the Akito and Reiko case—settled it, at any rate—and when he was sure.
He gazed down at his own mug of tea; the mug was disfigured, though made with the best of intentions for a bodyguard who wouldn't let him cry in public, and instead allowed him to shed a few tears in the limousine before they reached the Ootori Mansion. And, before he was allowed out of the car, Tachibana would wipe away the tear stains and straighten his uniform. Those rare days, when Kyouya was feeling vulnerable, Tachibana would pat him on the head. Words were never exchanged, but kindness was felt and understood, and it soothed.
That day had been a bright day. Kyouya almost wished that it had been raining, so that dressing black felt more appropriate. Wearing black under such a bright sky felt wrong. It was a simple ceremony—not many people, considering Tachibana was far from home. But Asumi-san had insisted that he be buried in America. It had always been a dream of his, she said, to be buried upon such warm and open land. It was, she said, an opportunity of a lifetime for him.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, and Kyouya growled in spite of himself. He should have been thankful for the person who called, but as his eyes read the number on the screen, he would have preferred to stay in his thoughts.
"Yes?"
There was a pause, "Kyouya."
"Big brother," he replied.
Another pause, and then, "How are you?"
"I'm fine." Kyouya stole a look at Haruhi who now gazed deeply into the white of her canvas. "But that's not what you called to talk about."
"No," the man confirmed.
"What do you need?"
"Don't push Akito any further."
"I haven't spoken to Akito."
"He knows you're here. He knows what you're doing. Stop it."
"I can't do that."
"Yes, you can," Yuuichi's voice was harsh. "The Asakura Corporation—"
"—is an asset to bringing back the Ootori Corporation to its full glory," Kyouya finished for him. "I know."
"So stop screwing around and leave it to us."
"Your priorities and mine are different. I refuse to leave anything to you."
"Father's been keeping an eye on you."
"I know that."
"So why are you acting like some rebellious teenager? You have nothing to do with us anymore—I don't see why I need to make this phone call."
"Likewise."
"If this is about that little commoner you've brought back with you—"
"I would suggest," Kyouya growled darkly, "you leave her out of this conversation. I may have been renounced, big brother, but I'm still an Ootori."
"An Ootori with no power to speak of." Yuuichi's laugh thundered in Kyouya's ears. "You mock the Ootori name."
"The Ootori name is not so easily mocked, big brother. An Ootori without power is an Ootori destined for greater power."
"You better watch what you say," Yuuichi hissed. "You've let go of some of your mask, Kyouya, and it will do nothing but ruin you."
"Or perhaps you're just too stuck on one specific mask, dear brother." Kyouya's eyes invariably went towards Haruhi who had caught on to the conversation and was making her way to him. "You're afraid that you don't know what mask I'm wearing now. It scares you."
"Don't look down on me, you little shit."
"Losing your cool now, big brother?" Kyouya gave a chuckle as Haruhi seated herself on his right leg, hands folded in front of her. He caressed the small of her back, feeling her warmth in the palm of his hand. "How out of character for you."
"I called to tell you to stay out of our way, Kyouya." Yuuichi seemed to have regained his composure. "This is a warning from the CEO and the President of the Ootori Corporation."
Kyouya grinned, "Challenge accepted." He hung up promptly.
"Kyouya?" Haruhi ran her hand through his hair and he closed his eyes, pulling her deeper into his embrace. "Was that Yuuichi?"
"Yes." He kissed her in reassurance. She didn't ask him what Yuuichi wanted. "Are you ready?"
"Ready?"
"The next stage," he whispered into her sensitive ear.
"Already?"
"The stage is set."
She wrinkled her nose at him briefly, "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"This isn't just for Akito, is it?" she asked suddenly.
"What do you mean?"
"You brought me back for something bigger than Akito."
"When I left, he came to me for help. And now that I've returned, something has changed. I don't know what it is, but I intend to find out."
"What a roundabout way of doing things," chided Haruhi gently. "Couldn't you listen to me for once and wait for Akito to come back to you?"
"He won't." Kyouya placed a firm kiss at the nape of her neck. "So I will have to help him this way."
Haruhi hummed and returned to her easel. Kyouya quickly dialed Umehito's number, dark eyes shining under the illumination of the rising moon.
"Let's begin."
Author's Note: Hello, lovely readers! I am all settled in Taichung, Taiwan, and teaching cute kids at an English language school. I figured now would be a good time to post this chapter. I've got the next chapter written, just in case I end up getting really busy. For now, things are going well-might be another couple of weeks before I post again though. Thanks for your patience!
Review if you'd like; constructive criticism is always appreciated. Hateful, angry flames, however, are NOT appreciated, and my army of zombified kitties will not hesitate to spit acid furballs at you or chew you up. That's why we should all be nice and support each other. Don't feed the angry zombie kitties!