"Haruhi, if you don't relax you'll tear a hole in that very lovely dress."
Whipping her head away from scowling out the car window at the streets of Tokyo, Haruhi turned to glare at Kyoya instead. It wasn't fair of her, none of this was his fault, but he didn't need to sound so amused at the whole thing.
Bastard.
Her irritation only made him more entertained. His lips twitched up a whole quarter-centimeter! Sliding his eyes briefly off the road, he nodded towards the hands twisting together in her lap. "Of course, there's always the one your father wanted you to wear." His lips pursed together as if corralling the smile threatening to spoil his sardonic visage. "I believe he had the store deliver it to the mansion in case you changed your mind."
Haruhi released the death grip she'd had on the lace skirt with alacrity. The only thing that could make the upcoming party worse would be having to don the monstrosity Yuzuru had squealed over like a pre-school girl.
Kyoya eyes glittered with barely suppressed mirth. "I can see that option is off the table."
She huffed, falling back against the car seat. "The pink I could handle, but did it have to be so… so…" she shuddered, at a loss for words.
"Frilly?" Kyoya supplied, "Sparkly? Flouncy?"
"So much like a ten-year old with a princess complex!"
That surprised a snort out of him. "Well," he said when his shoulders had stopped shaking, "I suppose with the Suoh men, the tree didn't grow very far from the apple."
"Oh, gods – I know!" she laughed, "Tamaki would have been all over that thing."
"He'd find it irresistible." Kyoya casually dropped a hand off the steering wheel to shift gears. "I'd have to bribe one of the maids again to ensure Antoinette 'accidently' destroyed it."
"Only if you could somehow add that to my debt," she teased.
He cast an inscrutable glance at her from the corner of his eyes.
"Wait!" The word 'again' caught up with her and her eyes widened. "Is that what happened to dress he bought me for graduation?" The one with a million sequins, a kilometer of tulle, and a skirt which poufed out wider than she was tall. Even her father had declared it 'a bit much.'
"Well, I couldn't have the Host Club's princess show up looking like a contestant for a supermarket beauty pageant, could I? We had a reputation for good taste to uphold."
"Mmm-hmmm." He could pull the self-centered, pragmatist act all he wanted, she knew him too well to buy it anymore.
For all his narcissism, Tamaki had been highly perceptive and there was a reason Kyoya had been designated the 'mommy' of their little family. As much as he snarked, and grumbled, and occasionally terrorized – Kyoya was the one who looked out for all of them. He did it secretly when he could and waived it away when he couldn't, but he was the one who made sure their needs were taken care of, tried to ensure their happiness. And, really, wasn't that the essence of what a mother did? He was doing it even now, distracting her from her apprehensions about today with meaningless banter about her dress.
Oh lord, the dress!
She looked down at the one deemed acceptable. The one which epitomized just what had her twisting her newly manicured fingers together like pretzels. The search for it alone was enough to drive home to her just how important today was, just how much her circumstances had changed.
Three. Days. It had taken three freakin' days before the 'perfect' dress was found. Anne-Sophie had dragged her to what seemed like every store in Roppongi, tearing through the high-end shopping district like a modern-day Napoleon through the opposing armies at Austerlitz. It wasn't enough that it be stylish, designer, and cost more than the annual rent on her 1DK in Sapporo. Oh no, it had to be all that and 'make a statement.'
Haruhi smoothed the skirt over her lap. Apparently, that statement required a simple sheath dress, modestly hitting just above her knees, with a black-and-gold lace overlay tatted to make the white silk underneath appear like a mosaic of chrysanthemums. It was meant to convey professionalism, celebration, wealth, longevity, and a fresh start.
Personally, she thought it was an awful lot to ask of a meter of fabric.
It was an awful lot to ask of her. If she was still just Fujioka Haruhi the thought of the upcoming party, her first formal presentation to Tokyo society, wouldn't bother her. It didn't really matter if others disapproved of her for her social status, her background, or anything else – she would rise, or fall, on her own merits and put any critics in their place.
But, she wasn't Fujioka Haruhi anymore.
She didn't regret it, not really. Allowing the Suohs to adopt her had seemed such a simple thing at the time, and she still believed it was the right choice, but she hadn't expected all this… this…
Kyoya had warned her. She'd dimissed it when he said she didn't understand exactly what she was letting herself in for. But only now, after spending two weeks helping to put together the Annual Suoh Autumn Garden Party (into which both the Suohs and Kyoya had poured more strategizing and attention to detail than had gone into the invasion of Normandy), did she fully grasp what he'd been trying to tell her.
It wasn't the amount of work, or the responsibilities, or even all the relationships and history and business information she needed to memorize – it was the way Yuzuru looked at her. As if the hopes and expectations of over a hundred generations of ancestors rested firmly on her shoulders.
Gods, was this how her friends felt all the time? How could they stand it? How could they even get up in the morning without the weight of it crushing them right back into bed?
"Relax!" Kyoya ordered, his hand covering hers with a quick squeeze, sending a sharp tingle of electricity racing up her arm.
Stupid dream. Since that weird Maria-and-dumpling induced hallucination she'd had, it was like an internal switch had flipped to 'on,' She was always aware of him, his hands, his voice, the broadness of his shoulders, it was damned unsettling. She had consciously chosen not to dig any deeper, not to examine what her feelings for him might be. There was no future in it. She was an unmarried mother and he wasn't the type to walk away from his family. If he was, then he wouldn't be Kyoya and she probably wouldn't hold him in the same regard. It couldn't be helped, and she valued his friendship too much to make things awkward.
She'd learned that lesson with Hikaru.
He removed his hand and she felt a sudden pang of loss as it vanished. Shooting another glance at her, his face softened. "You're worrying too much, it won't be as bad as you think."
"Really?" She turned his trademarked expression, one eyebrow raised in disbelief, on him for a change. "Because what I think is that I'm about to be paraded in front of four hundred people who'll be scrutinizing me for any weakness."
"And that's where you're wrong," he drawled. He waited a beat and she almost relaxed, but then he had to go and elaborate. "Only about half of them will be sizing you up, the others will be too busy introducing you to any unattached male relation between the ages of twenty and fifty in the hopes of forming an alliance the old-fashioned way."
It took a second before his implication hit. When it did, Haruhi's eyes widened in shock. "Marriage?!" Her voice rose in something very close to a shriek. "But… but…"
Now he gave her the one-eyebrow-look, along with an infuriating smirk. "Don't tell me you hadn't yet realized you're currently the single most eligible woman in Japan?" He tilted his head as if considering his words. "No, wait. I misspoke – my sources say the Yan heiress finalized an engagement agreement this morning, so that would be all of Asia."
"But… but..." She seemed stuck on that word and she forced herself past it. "But I'm… I'm… I have a son!"
His expression took on one approximating a doctor giving a patient some very bad news. "Haruhi, I think you'll find that now you are acknowledged as the Suoh heir, the important part of the term 'unmarried mother' is 'unmarried.'"
She blinked, reeling in shock, not yet able to fully process all this meant for her. A central tenant of her life, of her understanding of what challenges society would throw at her, was overturned with that one sentence.
Kyoya returned his gaze to the road. "There isn't a single parent in society who wouldn't welcome you as a daughter-in-law."
"Including your father?" she blurted out jokingly. Kind of. Well, at least half. Shit! Why did she say that? Haruhi gripped her hands together tight so she wouldn't use them to cover her mouth.
"Especially my father," he replied darkly. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, his lips narrowed in a line. "He's no less a hypocrite than anyone else in society – money and position washes away a host of perceived sins in his eyes." Kyoya turned towards her, forcing a smile. "But I've told you, my decisions are my own, so don't waste time worrying about his machinations."
Well, at least he was honest. She shrugged away the tiny curl of disappointment in her stomach.
"And," Kyoya continued, "Suoh has no desire to force you into anything you don't want. He knows all too well how badly an alliance made merely for the sake of two families can turn out and does not wish to see that situation repeated with you. Or Daiki-kun."
Oh, now he was just teasing her. "Dai-chan's five!" she scoffed, "Surely he's too…" Kyoya gave her such a pitying look that she trailed off. Fuck. At least a quarter of her classmates were engaged before starting high school, and another quarter before leaving it. Five wasn't too young at all – in fact, it might even be over-the-hill.
Haruhi groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Kamisama! Why the hell did I even agree to this?"
It was a rhetorical question, but Kyoya answered it anyway. "Because you are a very kind person."
She dropped her hands and rolled her eyes, "Yeah right. Nothing at all to do with how he threatened my son."
"That might have been the impetus," Kyoya countered, "but it wasn't the reason." He dropped the smugness he typically hid behind, turning his smirk into a genuine smile. "If not even the smallest part of you is willing, nothing and nobody can make you do anything. That's been true as long as I've known you."
She snorted. "I think you've forgotten all the things you forced me to do to reduce my debt."
"Things you wanted to do, at least on some level," he asserted, "As troublesome as you found it, a part of you was having fun. The 'debt' just gave you an excuse to let yourself enjoy it."
She gave a slight, non-committal shrug. She remembered all too well just how pissed off the whole 'debt' thing had made her, his usually accurate judgement was way off base on this one. Still, hearing herself assessed in that way was… flattering. The person he described was strong, capable, someone who charted her own path in life. The person she'd always tried to be.
"No matter what you might tell yourself, you didn't agree to the adoption out of fear," Kyoya stated confidently, "And you certainly didn't do it for the wealth or to secure Daiki-kun's birthright. It was because you understood how much it hurt Tamaki's parents that they couldn't claim their grandson in the way it counts among our class – explicitly, undeniably, and, above all, legally.
"And that is why you don't need to worry about tonight, because there is nothing you can do to disappoint them. You've already given Suoh the one thing he cares the most about - you reunited his family." Reaching down, his hand covered hers. "Everything will be fine, I promise."
Haurhi looked down at the hand enveloping both of hers. His fingers were so long, the proportions of his hand so graceful, she'd never noticed how large they were. Solid. And warm, too – she could feel it seeping in through her skin.
She sighed, letting the little knot of tension within her ease. It really wouldbe fine, in the end. After all, she'd always been destined to be a Suoh, it was only the path to it that turned out to be unexpected.
"I suppose you're right," she conceded. An impish thought had her smiling up at him. "But I don't care what anyone says, I am not going to call him 'Daddy'".
~oOoOo~
"…and by leveraging the synergy between 3D printing technology and automated monitoring controls, my company will revolutionize manufacturing like Guttenberg did printing..."
Nodding amiably, Kyoya kept his 'social' smile firmly in place and let his attention wander away from the balding, middle-aged man who'd cornered him. The nouveau-riche were so tiresome! No sense of time, place, and occasion. Parties like this were about making connections, cementing alliances, even (if one were fortunate) scoring a victory over a rival, not for actually talking business. It was something people not born to power never seemed to grasp.
Bored at the recitation of information his analysts had already presented him with, his eyes scanned the Suohs' spacious patio - skipping over women arrayed in colors to complement the deep scarlets and brilliant golds of the season until he found the one that outshone them all. The one who stood out, even in a landscape as crowded as this. Like a single perfect camellia in a field of showy, slightly desperate orchids.
Dear lord, listen to him! He sounded like a besotted schoolboy. If he wasn't careful he'd wind up standing on a table declaiming poetry. Catching his frown before it formed, he turned it into a vaguely encouraging smile which prompted the tycoon in front of him to double-down on the sales pitch.
"…on demand printed replacement parts to minimize downtime…"
Kyoya paid attention just long enough to give a few polite nods. He didn't want to discourage the man, the concept was intriguing and potentially very, very lucrative. Another thing about the nouveau-riche - their inability to grasp TPO was balanced by the fact that they were awfully good at making money. After a few minutes, he allowed his eyes to stray back to the woman at the center of his thoughts.
Well, why shouldn't he be besotted, who could possibly blame him? It wasn't just that she was beautiful – most of the women here could lay claim to that trait, although none achieved it quite so naturally. Nor was it her considerable intellect, her subversive wit, or even her natural grace and charm that drew him to her, along with so many others.
No, what had people flocking to her like desperate Neolithic hunters seeking the warmth of a fire was something far more important than any of that, the #1 item on the list of why he loved her – her kindness. It was her ability to judge people not by their words, or even their actions, but by the secret, vulnerable parts of themselves they tried to hide from everyone else. She'd been the first person besides Tamaki to look at Kyoya and really see him.
And she never understood just how rare that quality was, just how precious it made her.
She'd spent the whole ride in the car fretting about disappointing the Suohs, of somehow embarrassing them, incapable of realizing that she would eventually rule Tokyo society. Not because of her new wealth and position, nor because she would ever become skilled at the game of manipulation, but because her subjects would serve her with unparalleled devotion.
Even now he could see her working her natural charm on that old bat, Yakuta Kunie. The octogenarian matriarch, who controlled Japan's largest discount retailer with one hand and every detail of the lives of her ridiculously extended family with the other, was even smiling! Rumor said the last time she'd looked so much as mildly pleased had been the first year her international sales revenue outstripped domestic. Haruhi hadn't needed to waste a second in worry, she would be just fine.
But, just in case, he had taken precautions.
His gaze slid to the couple who had oh-so-casually joined the group surround her, the ones who took care not to stand so close they appeared to be hovering. Aside from the time to greet guests at the start of the party and to say farewells at the end, Yuzuru and Anne-Sophie couldn't be by Haruhi's side. It would send the wrong impression, make it seem as if they didn't trust a commoner to behave correctly. It was utter nonsense, like so many of society's unwritten dictates were.
The Hitachiins were just one of the carefully chosen cadre he'd recruited to… not guard, that wasn't quite the right word. Or supervise. To… guide. Until now, Haruhi's experience with the upper class had been like that of a sailor on the sea, tricky enough to navigate but allowing her to be oblivious to the sharks swarming beneath. He and Suoh had arranged to make sure nobody used her unfamiliarity with the hidden rocks and shoals, the forgotten deep-sea mines, to either impinge on her good nature or draw her into a war she didn't know was being waged.
Aside from the twins' parents, he'd drafted Mori and his brother, the Shidos, Yasuchika to represent the Haninozukas (his brother having sent his regrets - apparently new babies were exhausting), her boss Saioji, many of her old classmates and Host Club clients, and even a former member of the Zuka Club! All took their assigned turn in a rotation meticulously staggered to appear natural and avoid raising anyone's suspcions. Including Haruhi's.
It was a safeguard, but one she was proving she didn't need. Across the room, Yakuta was gazing fondly at the younger woman, no doubt already calculating how she could arrange a formal marriage interview with one of her bachelor grandsons. Haruhi had just made another powerful ally, although she would remain endearingly oblivious to that.
She hadn't grown up in this world, she didn't know the power players, the frenemies, or the rivals. But the most spectacular thing about her was that she didn't care. Where other people sought to fit in to this world or to master it, she simply came in and made it better. Made him better.
Damn. He scowled at the direction of his thoughts, hiding it from his conversation partner with a slow sip of his drink. This waiting game he was playing was becoming much harder than he'd anticipated. Like a marathon runner spotting the finish line, every instinct in him shouted to put on a burst of speed now, before all the young idiots in this room stopped looking at the Suoh fortune and realized her true value.
But, that way lie failure. Suoh may preach the value of speed, of acting before time and circumstance could take your opportunities away, but patience and strict adherence to the path he'd laid out had always been Kyoya's strength. The key to every success. He would not deviate from the road he'd chosen, not by one centimeter.
Giving himself a sharp, mental slap, he returned his focus to the multi-billionaire trying to secure his investment. Fortunately, his lapses in attention had been taken as disinterest and the man was already indicating an openness to negotiation. They'd become engrossed in discussing the logistical feasibility of using driver-less trucks as a delivery mechanism when a movement over the older man's shoulder caught Kyoya's eye.
It was furtive, almost sidling, forming an eddy in the usual ebb and flow that marked these events. It was the type of movement that didn't belong, not here. Not in the midst of people who moved through the world the confidence of those who knew they owned it. It immediately set him on red alert.
Turning his head to get a better look, his jaw hardened when he found the source. He couldn't say he was surprised at the intruder, he and Suoh had even put a contingency plan in place just for this scenario. It was just disappointing that once again human nature had lived down to his expectations. Discretely catching Tachibana's attention, he indicated the interloper. The bodyguard had instructions to intercept and deliver the man to Suoh's study.
"Shibasawa-san," Kyoya interjected into the tycoon's ad-hoc presentation, "Please excuse me, I'm afraid something requires my attention." The host couldn't leave his own party, but both men had agreed Kyoya was more than capable of handling this particular pest on his own. "I'd enjoy continuing our talk later this week, perhaps at my office?"
The man beamed, flushed with the possiblity of success. "I would be delighted, Ootori-san. I'll have my secretary call on Monday."
He really shouldn't look so pleased with himself, Kyoya already knew to the yen just how much the project needed and who else was interested. With that, he would drive a hard bargain. Shibasawa would do well to remember that Kyoya hadn't become Japan's eighth wealthiest man by accident.
Patience. Strictly following a perfect plan. That was always the way to go.
Shortening the obligatory round of goodbyes to just long enough for politeness, Kyoya headed inside to squash a bug.
~oOoOo~
"I helped put together the guest list, you were not on it."
Kyoya's voice, dripping with icicles longer than those which had formed on her former apartment rooftop each winter, stopped Haruhi in her tracks. She'd been in the midst of a circuitous route from the bathroom all the way over in the East Wing (the furthest one away from the patio that she knew of) back to the party when sounds coming from the study caught her attention.
It wasn't that she hated the party, it was going much better than she'd anticipated. Of course, that might have to do with the fact that she was never left unsupervised. Kyoya wasn't always as clever as he thought he was, she knew he was to blame (or thank) for the familiar faces who seemed to always be at her side. It was textbook Kyoya, both sweet and irritating at the same time.
Hug him or hit him – those always seemed to be the only two options where he was concerned.
The way the Hitachiins shut down that nice Yakuta woman who just wouldn't take 'I'm not interested in an Omiai' for an answer inclined her towards the 'hug' option. But the fact he didn't trust her enough to handle herself still had 'hit' as the leading contender.
Even with things going well, though, she'd needed a break. Too much socializing made her feel a little punch-drunk sometimes, as overstimulated as Daiki at an amusement park. The long walk to the East Wing and back had given her the time she needed to settle down and brace herself for the next round.
"I have a right to be here!" The second voice was older, with an annoying whining undertone. It sounded like one belonging to the type of man used to getting his own way through bullying and bluster.
She shouldn't eavesdrop. But, then she was, for better or worse, a member of the family. If someone had gate-crashed, wasn't it her responsibility to take care of it? She put her hand on the doorknob, but the next words rendered her immobile.
"You can't keep me from her," the stranger shouted, "She's my niece!"
She turned, shoulders drooping back against the wall beside the door. There was only one person that could be, and she had no interest in talking to him.
She'd given in to curiosity, just once, shortly after Daiki was born. Typing her mother's family name in an internet search engine had yielded what she had wanted to know.
Fujioka Kotoko, formerly Inukai Kotoko, had very little living family remaining. Her parents had died in a car accident when she and her brother were eight and ten respectively. The Inukai family wouldn't be considered wealthy by Ouran standards, barely upper middle-class. They owned no major companies but had a long history of political and judicial activism. The wealth to send Haruhi's mother to Lobelia Girls' Academy had come from the maternal grandparents who raised the two orphans.
Maternal grandparents who had cut-off her mother for not marrying someone they deemed acceptable.
She'd checked, just to make sure she wasn't misjudging anyone - all of Kotoko's grandparents, Haruhi's great-grandparents, had died before Haruhi had gone to Ouran. There had been no impediment to this man (she wouldn't dignify their relationship by calling him 'uncle') contacting her long before there might be money in it.
"You lost the right to call Kotoko-san's daughter family when your grandfather died and you made no move to contact them." Kyoya's accusation echoed her sentiments exactly. "Not then, not when Ryouji-san passed, not even when she came back to Tokyo six months ago."
"That… that couldn't be helped!" Haruhi could almost hear the man's face turning red, undoubtedly due to anger and not the shame it should be. "And you have no right to intervene in a family matter," he snarled, "Who the hell do you think you are?"
"Her friend." If Kyoya's tone got any colder it would freeze oxygen. She had never heard him this angry before. That it was on her behalf caused a funny, fluttering sensation in her chest. "One who cares a hell of a lot more about her than you or your family ever has." The fluttering feeling intensified until it felt like her heart had sprouted wings and was in danger of flying off.
"You… you…"
"You have two choices here, Inukai." Kyoya didn't use an honorific, turning the surname into an insult. "You can continue to incoherently splutter on about 'rights' and I will have my family's private security force escort you off the property and to a very uncomfortable cell in an undisclosed location…"
The incoherent spluttering stopped.
"…Or," Kyoya's voice turned low and lethal, "You may leave quietly without creating a scene. If so, I will pass your contact information on to Ms. Suoh. If she wishes to meet with you, it will be on her terms – not yours."
There was a moment of silence, then a querulous whinge. "How do I know you'll give it to her."
"You have no other choice." At this point, Haruhi knew Kyoya would be pushing up his glasses and giving the evil glare which cowed everyone.
Inukai put up a protest, but it was half-hearted at best. He was going to do what Kyoya wanted. Didn't most people?
Smiling to herself, she walked away from the door, turning down a side hallway to avoid encountering her unwanted 'family' as he was escorted out. Kyoya would give her the man's card, probably along with a detailed list of options on where and how to meet with him if she chose. He was a manipulative, sneaky bastard but he wouldn't hide something this important from her.
It was funny, considering her first impression of him, just how much she'd come to trust him. Maybe it was because she knew him so much better now, saw through all the masks he wore. Past the genial third-Ootori son, the ruthless business man, the cool and collected 'host,' even the devious 'Shadow King' - all the way down to the man who would fight any battle, wage any war, to protect those he cared about. Who shielded his friends so fiercely because, even after all this time, the unhappy child he'd once been didn't quite believe he deserved them.
Oh, gods - how she wanted to be the one to protect that part of him.
Mother and father in heaven! Haruhi staggered against the wall, clutching her abdomen with one hand and propping herself up with the other. She knew this feeling. Knew exactly what it was.
Because she'd felt it before.
"I love him," she whispered softly, disbelievingly, her breath coming out on shuddering gasps. "I love him," she muttered again with a tiny laugh, feeling the smile beginning to bloom on her face. "I love Kyoya!?" She lifted her hand from her stomach to cover the grin she couldn't suppress, hugging the revelation to herself like a delicious, wonderful secret.
Still beaming like an idiot, she pushed away from the wall and straightened her shoulders. All her fears about being destined to be a widow seemed so foolish now. All along, the answer had been right under her nose! Kyoya had been the one person she turned to, the one she trusted, the one she depended on. And he was the one she wanted to depend on, and turn to, and trust her in return.
Falling in love with her son's, father's, best friend. It was a stupidly romantic idea – like one of Maria's stories, or something out of Tamaki's fevered imaginings. Her brow furrowed. Of course, that was only if he loved her back. She knew he was fond of her, knew he felt obligated to look out for her and Daiki, but did he feel, could he feel something more?
The fluttering dropped from her chest all the way down to her stomach. This was the hard part, wasn't it? Screwing up your courage to confess without knowing the outcome. She'd felt this feeling before too. Then a second revelation hit her like a sheet of ice and she slumped back against the wall.
She couldn't tell him.
Two weeks ago, she could have, even if there would be no point to it. But not now. Whatever mental checklist Kyoya had for the perfect Ootori wife, 'in love with her' wouldn't be anywhere on it. But rich heiress from a prominent family?
Check, check, and check.
Add in 'good friend,' 'enjoys company of,' and 'mother of my dead-best-friend's son' and there was no way he wouldn't marry her.
Oh, he might mouth the words she would want to hear, he might even believe them having never known the alternative. But she did. She knew what it was like to love with her whole heart and be loved in return. And, as Honey had said, she owed it not just to Tamaki's memory but to herself to have that again. She deserved better than a marriage based on friendship and obligation.
So did Kyoya.
She couldn't confess, all she could do was love him. And love, real love, meant wanting what was best for the other person even if it didn't lead to the outcome you wished for. For Kyoya's sake, for Tamaki's sake, and, most importantly, for her sake she was going to make damn sure Kyoya got the happiness he deserved, even if she had to take on Ootori Yoshio himself.
Screw his plans and his checklists, Ootori Kyoya was not going to marry anyone who didn't love him as much as she did. And who he would love just as much in return.
A/N: Oh, gosh – it's been awhile hasn't it? My plans to get this done before the two year anniversary proved the axiom about the best-laid-plans and all that. I can blame both work and that dance competition season started up in earnest in March, but the real reason was a horrible case of writer's block
You other writers – does this happen to you? I had about 1500 words on paper for almost two months and just could not bring myself to finish the chapter. I kept avoiding even reviewing it. Finally, I scraped the whole thing except for the plotline and had over 4K words written in the next three days. Sometimes, I think writer's block is just the subconscious' way of telling you that something isn't ringing true.
Thanks to all the people who have stuck with this despite how long it took to update, to all the new favoriters and followers, and especially all the people who left reviews or who sent IMs asking if I was okay. This fandom is amazing! Some shout outs and selected reviews -
xxxSerinaxxx and MurphytheProphet – I hope to hit your entire wish list in the next chapter and the epilogues
KaliDax, artloife, Storz, Mimiluvbug and everyone who enjoyed Kyoya realizing he'd been outplayed – He's always been so far ahead of everyone else, I liked the idea of him being shown he isn't always going to out-maneuver everyone.
MollyMuffinHead, anjudith – congrats on guessing right! I knew this readership was too smart not to get it.
JJSprinkle, Fandom46 and 3.14159 (Pi!) – I think the best compliment an author can receive on a work is to know someone stayed up too late reading it or that it makes them feel happy when they're having a bad day. Thank you!
Chalice13 - I think you are psychic, I had this chapter in edit-mode when you posted your review.
And shout out to Tisha, artistofthemind, jodiverty, and isiswild, thank you and I hope not to make you wait so long for the next, and final, chapter (yeah, yeah, I know - promises, promises!).
