CHAPTER 55

Day one

Right. So Kaoru didn't sleep at all.

He yawns, exhausted.

"Kaoru, do you want to take a taxi home to sleep?"

Kaoru shakes his head, hugging Tamaki-san from the back and letting his head loll on his shoulder drowsily. Kyouya-san has thankfully reduced their opening hours – the kitchen feels lonely and he has been dogging Tamaki-san's heels even in the limited space of the walk-in refrigerator.

"Poor Chef," he says lightly, patting Tamaki-san on the head absently. "You have to do everything yourself."

Tamaki-san beams, elbow-deep in flour. "I don't mind."

"You wouldn't," Kaoru snorts. "Are you even getting a pay rise for this?"

"How can a legendary pâtissier talk this way!"

"You mean legendary chocolatiers don't need to eat?"

Tamaki-san laughs. "Haruhi can make a lot of food from very little money."

"Ah," Kaoru says knowingly. "As usual, Haruhi takes all the credit. I'm curious, Chef: what do you contribute to the relationship?"

Tamaki-san whirls around, grabbing Kaoru before he can escape and splattering him with flour.

"Hey!"

"You really are Hikaru's twin!"

"Duh! Can't you tell from our appearances?!"

Tamaki-san uses the tickle attack too. Kaoru howls with laughter, apparently bringing Kyouya-san to the scene.

"Sorry! Sorry, I'll stop distracting him. I know time is of the essence," Kaoru apologises, wiping his tears.

"It's quite all right," Kyouya-san says dryly. "I was merely checking to see that you weren't being slaughtered."

"Kyouya, don't work outside alone! Come in and join us!"

.


.

"Tired?" Hikaru asks her.

The preliminaries are being held in the banquet halls and conference rooms of the hotel that they're staying in and they are in the middle of their lunch break. Each contestant has been provided with a bento box, and Haruhi is happily munching away.

"No," she says after she swallows her mouthful.

Hikaru shuffles around for a minute before deciding to sit down. He's been fidgety since they woke up this morning.

"We got to try each other's bread earlier," Haruhi reports. "That boy from Futaba Pastry School is amazing."

"You're amazing," Hikaru counters reflexively before realizing what he just said. He looks away, stammering nervously.

Haruhi smiles. Already he is behaving much more like the lovelorn version of himself.

.


.

"Chef, seriously, do you know what the hell you're doing?"

Tamaki-san focuses his attention on Kaoru, puzzled.

"No, not the cake – Hikaru and Haruhi. Do you really know what you're doing?"

He smiles innocently. "I just hope they have fun."

"You're aware that there's only one bed in their hotel room, right?"

"What?!" Tamaki-san shrieks.

"That was a succinct answer," Kaoru deadpans. "Hikaru tried to get a change of rooms but the hotel was fully booked out because of the competition. He said that the invitation for contestants to bring a guest was for them to bring their spouse or mentor – since Kyouya-san didn't RSVP and since Haruhi's mentor at the school is a judge for the preliminaries, they assumed she was bringing her spouse."

"Kyouya!"

"Ah, I had not known that the organizers would make such an assumption. Regardless, this helps your cause, does it not?"

"But!" Tamaki-san screeches, distraught.

"There, there. You know Hikaru and Haruhi wouldn't be unfaithful to you."

"But I – " He falls silent, doubt marring his features.

Kaoru is taken aback at this side of Tamaki-san that he's heretofore not encountered. "Idiot," he chides quietly, "you're being unfaithful to them by acting this way."

"No!" Tamaki-san protests immediately. "It's not that. It'll be wonderful if they fell in love, too."

It takes a few beats for Kaoru to catch on, and when he does his surprise deepens, for he had not thought he could feel so much compassion. Gently, he brushes those flowing blond bangs to one side and presses a kiss to that fair skin.

"You're being stupid; stop it."

Tamaki-san draws back, eyes large and hand on his cheek.

"Don't you know you make it impossible for people to ever want to leave you? If anything, your position in this relationship is probably the strongest since they both love you. Now go back to your optimism and hope and selflessness," Kaoru orders.

Tamaki-san is truly breathtaking when he radiates joy. "Oui, Chef!"

.


.

Haruhi slings her bag diagonally across one shoulder. It takes her far less time to get dressed than Hikaru, who's still selecting his outfit.

They have two hours of freedom before dinner at one of the top restaurants in Osaka. Fuyumi-san's goal is to expose these budding chefs to the finest cuisines available, and they've got a packed schedule visiting various restaurants and cafés throughout the week. Although they are specialized bakers, many of them have additional classes and qualifications in other areas of the kitchen.

But to be honest, Haruhi is excited simply to be able to eat superb food.

At last Hikaru is ready; they exit the hotel onto the crowded streets to shop around for souvenirs for the rest back in Tokyo.

Haruhi extends her hand, waiting.

Hikaru stares at her blankly.

"If this is a date, you can hold my hand if you want to," she informs him.

He grimaces, though not – she suspects – at her.

He hesitates for so long that she considers retracting her hand to spare him from saying no when he finally moves to take it. His grip is comfortable, not too tight and not irritatingly loose, and most importantly his hands are wondrously warm, rather like Tamaki-san's. In her life Haruhi has not held the hands of many men – just her father and Tamaki-san, to be exact – yet she knows she has a natural preference for warmer hands, because… well, she likes it without rhyme nor reason, kind of like how she adores crabs.

"What do you think Kaoru would like?" she asks.

Hikaru doesn't seem to have heard any of it. "H-Huh?"

"Let's go to the mall over there," Haruhi decides.

.


.

"Kaoru," Tamaki-san says when Kyouya-san is out entertaining customers. "Do you know what you're doing?"

"Sorry, what?"

"Did you sleep in the same bed with Kyouya last night?"

"No!" Kaoru whispers fiercely, giving him a stern frown. "Lower your voice or shut up!"

Tamaki-san obliges. "Was it because I was there?"

"No!"

"Did you want to?"

"Like hell I will answer that! All possible answers imply something else!"

"Just because it implies something else doesn't make it untrue. What's the correct answer, Kaoru?"

"Butt out."

Kaoru tries to stomp away to the patio; Tamaki-san pulls him back and holds him. The guy has apparently been comprehensively trained by Hikaru to anticipate the twins' reactions when they're pissed off or closed off.

Given enough time, Kaoru will disintegrate in his arms. He knows that Tamaki-san knows this – consciously or otherwise, Hikaru has spilled all of their secrets.

"Please let me go," he requests with as much dignity as he can muster.

Tamaki-san doesn't comply; why does his customary failure to obey still retain the ability to vex Kaoru?

"I remember Hikaru's anger and hurt at being treated as a unit instead of an individual by everyone he meets," Tamaki-san says, "and that's why when I met you I have always tried to think of you as Kaoru and Hikaru as Hikaru. It was the first promise I made to him, you know: to try my hardest to see him for himself. Sometimes, Kaoru, you are so, so similar that I worry I'll forget. As much as possible Hikaru always prefers to be touched, held, kissed… you're like that too, aren't you?"

Kaoru squeezes his eyes shut and doesn't contradict him.

"I hate how you always win. I hate it."

"It isn't about winning. There's nothing to win, Kaoru."

Kaoru huffs cynically. "You sure have won me."

"If I have, I must have paid an equivalent price," Tamaki-san says with a broad grin. "The only thing that can genuinely buy a human heart is another human heart."

Kaoru laughs, rendered wholly defenseless. "Did you think you could make my knees go weak like some fairytale prince?" he mocks. "I didn't think anyone still believed in this romantic claptrap; you not only do, you do your very best to infect everyone else – "

"It's not claptrap!"

"It is! In this day and age – "

"I know you're a romantic at heart, Kaoru," Tamaki-san asserts brightly. "You can't fool me!"

"I am not! I have a well-balanced perspective towards love!"

"You are! Liar, Kaoru!"

"The arrogance! You think you know me better than I know myself?!"

"You are, you are!" Tamaki-san insists, chasing after Kaoru who has slithered out of his grip and raced away. "I know these things!"

"Not everyone is an idealist like you!"

Kaoru is unfortunately cornered. Tamaki-san is only slightly taller than the twins, but he has this effective method of looming over others when he's being imperious. "You definitely are. Maybe not everyone is blessed with the abundant hope that you and I share, Kaoru."

Kaoru stares at him.

Really, he'd exerted his best effort in withholding his laughter.

"Why are you laughing?!" Tamaki-san demands, outraged.

"Because! Hope! What is this, some shojo manga?! You think I – "

"I think you do," he interrupts, suddenly smooth and serious.

Kaoru snaps his mouth shut with an audible clack.

"I think you'll never be able to shake off the desire to fall in love and be loved in return."

Oh, that really hit a nerve. Kaoru lowers his gaze to the ground quickly to compose himself and turn the situation back against Tamaki-san by regaining his sense of humour. "Oh my god, was this how you seduced Hikaru? By spouting nonsense about – "

"It's not nonsense!"

"Was this how you charmed Haruhi too? You ladies' man, you!" Kaoru bats his lashes indecently.

"Nooo!" Tamaki-san yells, derailed from his original topic.

Kaoru cackles, secretly triumphant at having dodged the bullet. "And I thought your love was so pure!"

"It is! I – "

"You probably think dirty thoughts about Haruhi and Hikaru all the time!"

"I DON'T!"

"To think I thought you were pure-hearted and upright, the most flawless lover on earth!"

"I have morals! I can be what Haruhi and Hikaru need me to – " Tamaki-san stops.

Baffled by the pause, Kaoru looks around and sees Kyouya-san in the kitchen watching them evenly. Abruptly he realises that he is still cradled within the ring of Tamaki-san's arms, and who knows what ridiculous things they were gushing about that Kyouya-san had overheard, and – oh, shit.

Kaoru flinches backwards like he's been scalded.

"We're running low on the chocolate éclairs," Kyouya-san says, detached and glacial, and leaves without looking back.

"Kyouya!" Tamaki-san shouts, taking a step forward to go after him.

Kaoru grabs his arm. "Don't. If you go, he'll never forgive me."

"Kaoru!" Tamaki-san wrings his hands wretchedly.

"No! Just – shut up. I need time and peace to figure out what's the problem! Shit, I am in so much trouble. He knows better than to think there's anything between you and me right?! Maybe – maybe I should have gone to him last night – just, hey, stop looking so worried! You're making me feel worse! Go make the éclairs! This is my relationship, I'll sort it out myself!"

.


.

The sample parcel of umeboshi dangles off the end of the toothpick that Haruhi offers to Hikaru.

Hikaru looks immensely conflicted.

He tries to take the toothpick from her but she holds fast to it; he tries again and ends up touching her hand, which causes him to snatch his hand back with a speed that is almost insulting.

Haruhi sighs. "Hikaru, have you ever been in a relationship?"

When, predictably, he protests, she quickly stuffs the umeboshi in his mouth.

He chews rapidly and says, "Haruhi! I could've choked on that!"

She wanders off in search of more food samples. With a couple more attempts, he may stop resisting her.

.


.

Amazingly, Tamaki-san makes himself scarce at five thirty in the afternoon, their new temporary closing time. He claims he is going grocery shopping for them, and will return only shortly before dinnertime.

The car ride home with Kyouya-san ranks as the single most uncomfortable experience in Kaoru's life. Kyouya-san isn't ignoring him – not exactly – but he's certainly not engaging him either.

"I'll be going out for about an hour or two; there's no need for you or Tamaki to wait for me to have dinner." Kyouya-san heads to his room without bothering to remove his jacket or pocket his keys. He comes out with his case and laptop and clearly intends to leave straightaway.

"Kyouya-san…" Kaoru mumbles softly, his tone pleading.

Kyouya-san sets down the items on the ornamental glass table by the door and comes to where Kaoru is standing. Without a word, he gently clasps Kaoru's head and gives him a heartbreaking kiss.

Kaoru is aching all over by the time Kyouya-san breaks the kiss. Urgently he clutches at the sleeve of his partner, silently inquiring.

Kyouya-san's face is mostly impassive, but his eyes… Kaoru is disturbed by the acute disappointment he sees in them.

The front door clicks shut.

.


.

"Have some," Hikaru says, awkwardly reciprocating. "There's no reason for me to be eating everything."

Haruhi accepts the strip of beni shoga.

"Oh, it's good."

"Not as good as yours."

"Do you think Kaoru would like some?"

"He'd probably prefer it better if you make yours for him."

Haruhi nods. "Let's keep going?"

"Yeah. Look! They've handing out juice over there!"

.


.

Second sleepless night in a row, really?

Kaoru closes his book and tosses it on the bedcovers. It's useless, he can't concentrate.

Kyouya-san had come home when he'd said he would, had a bath, and is now working on something on his laptop in his room. Tamaki-san has kindly – miraculously – left them alone, though Kaoru suspects it must be killing him to take a hands-off approach.

The book lands poorly on its edge; Kaoru hastily picks it up to re-arrange it. Ugh, just a couple days ago he'd been engrossed in this page-turner, but now –

He drops the book again, this time on the floor.

It stays there, abandoned in favour of something immeasurably more important than it.

.


.

"Haruhi, we have to stop eating," Hikaru says with a hint of amusement in his voice. "I'll have no space in my stomach left for dinner!"

At his timely reminder, Haruhi thinks twice about the food she is eyeing.

"We have to stop browsing the food aisles then," she says mournfully.

"Okay," he laughs. "Hey, I wanna check out the specialty paper shops! Kaoru and I are also thinking of doing an origami theme for the cakes, but that's going to really push the limits of our creativity and Kaoru isn't up to it at the moment, you know? Just in case, we should collect some ideas for the future?"

"Yes," she agrees, and startles a little when a warm hand entwines automatically with hers.

Only a very little.

Mostly, she is trilling with success.

.


.

Kaoru doesn't give himself time to hesitate or change his mind. He grasps the doorknob and enters the room without knocking.

In the middle of the bed, with computer perched on his lap and a sea of documents surrounding him, sits Kyouya-san. He snaps his head up at the unannounced intrusion; before he is able to process what is going on and react accordingly, Kaoru sweeps a few files aside, climbs on top of him, and seals their mouths together.

"I haven't lost interest, I haven't lost interest in you," Kaoru repeats feverishly, punctuating his sentences with heated kisses. "I haven't. I can't."

With the element of surprise, he appears to have successfully ambushed and disoriented Kyouya-san.

"I'm sorry. I'm a wait-and-watcher – I was waiting and watching for you to tell me what you want from this relationship – I forgot you are one too," he says relentlessly, barely letting his partner up for air. "I'm sorry. Kyouya, I'm sorry; forgive me."

Kyouya peels away through sheer force of will, breathing as heavily as Kaoru.

Their eyes connect, causing a jolt of electricity to surge through Kaoru's body. Heaven help him; he wants to jump Kyouya's bones so badly.

Kyouya laughs.

Kaoru stares, mesmerised.

His world is upended in the next instant, his arm lovingly protected as he is flipped over to lie flat on the bed.

"I'd wondered," Kyouya confesses, suspended tantalizingly above him, "why even a kiss from me can't seem to make you as happy as Tamaki's presence does."

That's completely and disgustingly untrue. Kaoru caresses his cheek sadly, quietly thinking about it. Why would you even think that? We're doing something wrong for you to be thinking that.

He reaches a decision.

"You'll have to try harder," he commands boldly, putting a dark smile on that handsome face. "I require so much from my partner and my relationship, but I pretend that I don't and I constantly struggle with not getting enough and eventually I become so uncertain and insecure in a fraud of a relationship that the only thing worse than destroying that relationship is staying in it."

Kyouya carefully rests his weight on Kaoru to get closer. "I see. I… I myself have never been able to – well. I suppose, to paraphrase you, people have never found it impossible to leave me. The very few people I have consented to date were solely to please my sister, and it is likely that they sensed both my indifference and my aversion to spending time with them at all, much less sharing a life with them."

Kaoru hums understandingly. "Ah, your legendary lethal indifference. I hope never to experience it; I know it'll ruin me."

"You haven't the faintest idea how hard I strove to be indifferent to you."

"I'm glad you failed."

"Please do not give me cause to regret it."

"I won't," Kaoru whispers. "Tell me what you want from this relationship."

"Certainty."

"That makes two of us."

"Mutuality, and longevity."

"Devious," Kaoru praises, grudgingly impressed. "I'm going to have to do a hell of a lot behind the scenes just to achieve these three deceptively simple objectives."

"You will not be doing the work alone, nor will you do more of it," Kyouya points out. "Mutuality means I will be at once your sovereign and slave, and you, mine."

Kaoru chuckles. How like Kyouya to define his goals with a precision that borders on the fanatical. "I agree to your terms."

"And your expectations?"

Too easy: "I want you to do your best."

"That seems a little low. Surely you could ask for more, especially in light of what you've told me?"

Kaoru smiles, all mischief. "I'm asking for the most. I know that I can't set a harsher standard for you than what you set for yourself. If it were anyone else, my stipulated conditions would have been much more specific. I want nothing but your best, Kyouya. You decide what your best means."

"Diabolical," Kyouya concedes generously. "All right. Agreed."

"I'm sleeping here tonight," Kaoru declares, "and the rest of the week. You're making it up to me for leaving me out in exile yesterday."

Kyouya stares at his plaster cast, an eyebrow arched provocatively.

"I'm sure you can work your way around it," Kaoru waves it off.

"If I were to… work my way around it, I'm equally certain you are not the sort of lover who is capable of lying still."

He's thought about it, Kaoru thinks, thrilled beyond belief. "I'm mostly healed," he insists.

"Not quite. Even if you were, that only makes the risk of exacerbating the injury less worthwhile."

"I can see I'm not making myself clear," Kaoru says, lips skimming the shell of his ear. "I need – "

"A great deal of physical contact. I'm well aware. You may have whatever you wish from me, as soon as – " Kyouya jerks backward with a hiss, one hand automatically going to Kaoru's hip to stop him from rolling it up against his body.

"I'd rather we skip the part where I have to break your self-control bit by bit," Kaoru tells him sultrily, running a foot up his calf.

The answer comes after the slightest of delays, though there'd definitely been a pause. "I'd like to see you try."

If that's how it's going to be.

"Fine," Kaoru says lightly, wriggling himself to one side of the bed. "I'll just go to sleep then."

With his left hand, he pulls up the silk blanket.

"Goodnight, Kyouya."

.


.

"Er."

"Hikaru, we can't do this every night."

Haruhi plumps up the pillows that form a fence between the two sides of the bed.

"Yesterday wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No," he reluctantly admits.

She smiles and pats the sheets. He doesn't move to obey – not that she'd expected immediate compliance – so she snuggles under the covers and turns to face the side opposite his.

Haruhi has nearly drifted off when the bed dips and the soft rustle of fabric is heard.

.

02/02/13