Kyoya climbed into the back of the family limousine along with his father and, to his surprise, his brother Yuuichi.
"I've asked Akito to take your mother back home in Yuuichi's car," answered Yoshio to Kyoya's unvoiced question. "The car is about the only place on Earth where we won't be interrupted."
Oh god, thought Kyoya, he wants me gone so fast that he doesn't even want to wait until we get home. We're probably on the way the airport right now. Kyoya should have expected this. He wished he had had the chance to say a proper goodbye to Tamaki.
Awkward silence settled in the car as it pulled out on to the street. Beside him, Kyoya's father sat with his arms crossed, staring straight ahead. Across from them, Yuuichi leaned forward with is elbows on his knees, looking back and forth the between Kyoya and their father, but said nothing.
"I'm sorry," said Kyoya. He had nothing to lose now, so he might as well say what he felt. He wasn't going to have another opportunity. "I'm sorry for embarrassing the family and for disappointing you. I never meant to make you angry."
Yoshio turned his head to study his son, then sighed and unfolded his arms. "You're right, Kyoya. I am embarrassed. And disappointed. And angry." He reached over and put his hand on Kyoya's knee. "But not at you."
Confused, Kyoya stared at his father.
"I am a medical professional. More than that, I am your father. I should have seen the signs. The lost weight, your tired appearance, isolating yourself in your room. Your mother noticed and she tried to tell me. To be honest with you, I think I knew the truth all along, but it was so much easier to explain things away. That your weight was due to your new running hobby. That you had caught a mild bug that was making you feel under the weather. That your moodiness was just typical teenage angst. My medical training told me that you should have had a psychological assessment after the attack, but I was so busy with the police and before I knew it, it was Monday and you were already heading off to school. I figured you must be fine. I'm sorry that I left you to deal with this on your own. It was a gross oversight as both a doctor and your father. I'm sorry, Kyoya. I hope someday you'll be able to forgive me."
Kyoya was stunned. Only good breeding kept his jaw from hanging open. He was at a complete loss of what to say, so he sat in silence.
"Because of this," continued Yoshio, "I don't trust myself to advise you or make decisions regarding your treatment. Which is why I've asked Yuuichi to be here."
Kyoya turned to his brother who was watching them. It took effort, but Kyoya managed to find his voice. "So, you're not sending me to a recovery centre?"
"Did you want to go to a recovery centre?" asked Yuuichi, speaking for the first time.
"No! Please don't send me away!" cried Kyoya, louder than he meant.
Yuuichi leaned back, holding is palms up in a surrendering gesture. "Okay, okay. You don't have to go if you don't want to."
"Really?" asked Kyoya.
"I have a colleague who is a psychologist. She specializes in youth mental health. I'm going to set up an appointment for you to see her. Ultimately your treatment is up to you, but I'd like you to keep an open mind and consider her recommendations. If she says that a short stay at a treatment facility would be beneficial, then I want you to at least think about it."
"If she says I have to go but I don't want to, will you drug me?"
"Drug you?" asked his father.
"Like Mrs. Nakamura. She went crazy and now her family keep her sedated all the time."
Yoshio clicked his tongue in disgust and turned to look out the window. "What they have done to that poor woman should be illegal," he muttered. "You're not crazy," he said, turning back to Kyoya. "And even if you were, no son of mine is going to be turned into some half-living vegetable. When I think about what that family has done… disgusting."
"I don't want to be sent to a facility and don't want to take any drugs," stated Kyoya.
"Now hold on there," said Yuuichi. "I think you may have to compromise your position a little. You said you're having panic attacks, is that right?"
Kyoya looked down at the floor. "It was just the one big one. The rest were just…small. It's not a big deal."
"Yeah, I bet," said Yuuichi, not convinced. "Just what is that you think is going to happen if you start taking medication?"
Kyoya shrugged while still staring at his feet. "Those kinds of drugs, the ones that affect your brain, they have side effects. They can change they way you feel, make you feel different. I don't want to feel different. I want to still be me. I want to still be able to think. It's important to me."
"I understand, but I think you'll find that medications used to treat anxiety disorders have come along way in recent years. Kyoya, please look at me." Kyoya lifted his head to make eye contact with his brother. "We're going to talk to my colleague first and get her recommendations, but the bottom line is that there's a time and place for medication. If your anxiety is interfering with your ability to function, then meds might help – especially as a short term treatment. But you know, for many people, therapy, exercise, and other self-help strategies work just as well or even better. If you want to focus on these kinds of strategies, that's great, but they take time, effort, and self-discipline. You and I are going to explore all the options and come up with a treatment plan that's going to work for you, but for that to happen I need you to be open to considering all avenues, including treatment facilities and medication. Can you do that?"
Kyoya broke away from his brother's gaze and looked down at his hands as he clenched and unclenched them. He nodded.
Kyoya wasn't at school the next day. Nor the next. By Thursday the Host Club was getting nervous. At Tamaki's insistence, they tried to carry on with their usual activities, but today it was obvious that their hearts weren't in it and their clients, full of sympathy but no understanding as to the reason for Kyoya's absence, politely left early. The six friends sat around a table in depressed silence.
"Has anyone heard from him lately?" asked Kaoru.
"He replied to my email yesterday," said Harui. "But he didn't say much."
"He answered Takashi's text asking if he want to go for a run," said Honey while fondling the ears of his stuffed rabbit.
"Did you go?" asked Harui.
"No," answered Mori.
"I've talked to him on the phone a few times," said Tamaki. The Club leaned forwarded eager to hear about their friend, but Tamaki didn't say anything else.
"And?" asked Hikaru. "What did he say?"
Tamaki shrugged. "Not much. He wouldn't answer any of my questions. Just kept saying that he was fine and that his brother was helping him."
"But what does that mean? Helping him how?" asked Kaoru. Tamaki just shrugged again and the group fell back into silence.
The music room door opened. "Where are all the guests?" asked Kyoya, shutting the door behind him. "Don't tell me you've managed to drive the club out of business in only a couple of weeks."
"Kyoya!"
Honey was first out of his seat, followed close behind by the twins and Tamaki. Kyoya groaned as Honey wrapped himself around Kyoya's waist. The twins and Tamaki glommed on to him from all sides.
"Yes, yes, hello. Nice to see you too. Please get off me," Kyoya struggled to detach his friends. It was like being attacked by a litter of excited puppies. Mori came over and gave him a hard, friendly slap on the back that threatened to knock him off his feet. Peeling off Honey, Kyoya was surprised when Harui came up and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. Hesitating for a moment, he leaned in and returned the embrace.
"We missed you, Kyoya-senpai," she said, letting go of him.
"It's only been a couple of days," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. He looked around at his friends' eager, happy faces. He smiled. "But yeah, I missed you guys too."
Together the group sat back down at the table. Depressed silence was replaced with happy giggles and restless excitement.
"Where have you been?"
"How are you feeling?"
"Why weren't you in class today?"
"What did your dad say after the hearing?"
Questions peppered Kyoya from all sides. Ignoring them, he pulled out a small bottle of pills from inside his jacket and set it down on the table in front of him. The noise died as everyone stared at the bottle.
"What are those?" asked Honey.
"It's anti-anxiety medication. Benzodiazepines, actually. More commonly know as tranquilizers."
"So, you were right," said Tamaki. "Your family is forcing you to be medicated. Oh Kyoya, I'm so sorry."
"No, not exactly," said Kyoya. "My family are letting me pick my own treatment options, with the advice and supervision of my brother. He took me to a psychologist friend of his. She recommended medication. I admit, I put up a bit of a fight, but in the end we compromised. For now, I don't have to take daily medication, instead I have to see a therapist once a week and keep to an exercise regime. Yuuichi also wants me to do Tai Chi or Yoga or something, but I haven't said yes to that yet. On top of that I have these." Kyoya gestured to the prescription bottle. "I'm supposed to take them if I start having a panic attack. They work fast, but they make me feel sleepy and confused. Yuuichi says they are also addictive, so I have to be careful."
"And what about your family? What to they think about all this anxiety stuff?" asked Harui.
"They've been…understanding." Kyoya didn't want to talk about his family's reaction. They were supportive, it was true, but almost too much so. There was a lot of guilt floating around his home. His parents and brother, Akito, had developed a habit of speaking to him in soft, gentle voices, as if he were going to melt down on them at any moment. Fuyumi called him twice a day. Yuuichi, whom he had never spent much time with one-on-one, was now a constant presence. The net affect of all the attention was stressful.
"I'm going to be back in class tomorrow," he said, changing the subject. "I was meeting with teachers this afternoon to get caught up on my work."
"That's great!" cried Tamaki. "We're starting a group project tomorrow. I want you to be my partner."
"Great," was Kyoya's sarcastic reply.
"So that's it? You're not sick anymore? No more tantrums? No more freak outs?" asked Hikaru.
"Hikaru!" Kaoru punched his brother in the arm.
"What? I'm just asking!"
"I'm…" Kyoya looked down at the bottle of pills then ran his hand back through his hair and let out a deep breath. "I'm working on it. I'm not better, but I'm getting better. The panic attacks and nightmares might still happen, but if the treatments work, they should be rare."
"Will you ever be completely normal? Like you were before?" asked Kaoru.
Kyoya shrugged. "Maybe. I hope so. But it's impossible to know."
"Oh, shoot!" The group turned to Harui who was look at her watch. "I'm sorry guys, but I have to go."
"I should go too," said Kyoya.
"But you just got here!" cried Honey leaping over and attaching himself to Kyoya's arm.
"My car will be waiting," said Kyoya, shaking off Honey. "Since the hearing, Tachibana gets nervous when I'm out of his sight for too long."
"We'll walk out with you then," said Tamaki. Chairs scrapped and squealed a everyone stood and gathered their things to leave.
Heading towards the door, Mori reached out and touched Kyoya's shoulder. "Do you want to go running tomorrow after class?"
Kyoya looked up and gave the tall boy a faint but appreciative smile. "I would like that. Thank you."
Spring turned into summer, summer faded into autumn and Kyoya slipped into a routine. School and Host Club activities continued as normal. Added to these were weekly sessions with his therapist that eventually turned to every second week, then once a month. He started lifting weights as well as running three times a week. At least one of these runs would be with Mori. Together the pair silently explored the parks and pathways around Tokyo, with Kyoya's security team a constant ten steps behind. Kyoya had given up on meditation, finding that keeping a journal to be more effective way for him to observe his thoughts and feeling. Writing brought a sense of calm and relaxation.
It hadn't been perfect. There were times when he would feel restless, irritable, and had trouble sleeping. A couple of times he had had felt the tell-tale tingle in his spine as his chest tightened and his heart began to race. In those instances, his medication came to the rescue and stopped the rising panic, but it also left him in a drowsy medication hangover for at least a day.
His relationships with his friends and family were back to 98% of normal. From outward appearance, everything was as it had been, but Kyoya knew that now they always aware of him. They kept mental track of him – where he was in the room, his body language, his expression- looking for any hint of distress. It had become second nature and Kyoya knew that he had to accept this as his new normal.
One odd tendency that his friends had noticed was Kyoya's habit of carrying a pen with him at all times. At school, at the mall, even the beach. Without fail, he had a pen in his pocket. If one paid attention, you would sometime see him pull it out and stare at it while he fidgeted with it in his fingers. Breathing in, flipping the pen, breathing out. In. Flip. Out. Flip.
The End
USA:
Center for Mental Health Services (CMHS), of the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA), maintains a mental health services locator, which you can use to help find services, facilities and resources in your state.
Youth America Hotline
1-877-YOUTHLINE or 1-877-968-8454
Canada:
Kids Help Phone: 1-800-668-6868
Crisis Services Canada: 1-833-456-4566
Thank you to everyone who took the time to read/follow/favourite/review this story. A very special thanks to mandancie who would read and leave a review the instant chapters were posted. Knowing you were eagerly waiting for updates kept me motivated to consistently work on this piece. To MollyMuffinHead, who graciously shared her own insights into anxiety and helped me keep a sense of realism in this story. And to beancounter22765, whose constructive criticism encouraged me to proof read more carefully. Despite my best efforts, I'm sure there are plenty of typos. Editing is never-ending work.
Part of me wanted to continue this story and show Kyoya's road to recovery, his ups, downs, and set backs. But that would make this piece go on forever. A story needs to have a beginning, middle, and an end - a basic story writing fact that some fanfiction authors forget. I consider this story to be a first draft. I'm not sure if I'm going to write a second draft. If I do, I think I would pad this out into a novel-type by adding a sub-plot or two. Maybe one that goes into the story of the attackers and Kyoya's father. I also would have liked to include a scene describing Kyoya's journey across Tokyo to Harui's house. I wasn't sure how to write it, so skipped over it. It requires more thought. I would be interested to hear your thoughts on what you would like to see filled out into this story. But for now, I'm going to let this one sit and breath a bit.
Thanks again everyone. You're the best.
