My Muse
Chapter 18
She felt like a duck, waddling through fox territory.
Walking the long halls of the building never had that affect on her before. Sure, they were wide and towering, and always bustling with older men that looked at her funny, but those strong looks today were sending chills down her spine that made her legs numb.
She made a quick glance down at her watch, careful not to lose her stride. Hikaru had long since left his rightful place by her side nearly half an hour ago. He had a conference meeting today with the board members. As far as she knew, he wasn't apart of the board anymore, so he must be the center of conversation. And there was only one thing she could think of that they might want to talk to him about, and it made her sweat.
She'd tugged on his sleeve, jerking him back as she mumbled nervously into his ear, or, as close as she could get to it, hoping to god he didn't still have the flash drive in his pocket.
"There's no way they found out that fast," he grumbled back, and she almost said back that it's been four days, but his new, too skinny for his own clothes assistant, poked his head out of the door they stood in front of and meekly urged Hikaru away from her, by pointing out that his father was waiting for him and he was ten minutes late.
"Better give it another half hour," he sighed. "Don't want them to think I'm excited about this.
He looked back down at her at that, maybe thinking his joke was funny, but only ended up frowning, probably at the tensed look she could feel on her face, and cupped her cheek in his hand, wiping his thumb over her cheek.
"It'll be a little while," he said, mocking her pouted lip. "Will you wait for me?"
"What if Fujibayashi's in there?"
"Most Likely." He paused, then scoffed. "I don't need my big strong bodyguard all the time."
"That's not what I'm worried about."
"Don't worry," he scolded, as if it were that easy, before slipping his aviators off his face, and tenderly lifted her hand up to set them safely on her open palm.
"Sir!" His assistant squeaked, appearing inside the crack in the door again, holding his hands up, horrified that his boss's late time had exceeded the amount of his fingers. "Fifteen."
"I'm coming, Ben." He almost snapped, before turning back to her again. "What kind of name is Ben, anyway? I hate that guy."
Ben whimpered a complaint from between the door and the door frame, and Hikaru rolled his eyes, and placed a swift kiss on her forehead before turning his back to her and disappearing into the conference room, but not before stating surely that he'll meet with her afterwards in his office.
Then he'd left her alone, and a sinking feeling replaced the butterflies in her stomach. It felt as though she were stuck in a cage, sunken deep inside a pull of sharks, and everyone she passed was ready to grab at her and tear her apart.
They didn't look at her like she was a lawyer. Or a bodyguard for the chairmen's son. They looked at her like a girl who didn't know left from right.
Not that she was helping her own case. She made it painfully obvious that she had no place here, once she walked right into the bulky shoulder of an executive, and timidly muttered an apology, bowing her head so low her head was level with his belt.
And he thought so little of her, that he didn't spare her more than a dry scoff, and dusted off his jacket, like she had gotten it dirty.
It was a humiliating. She hadn't felt this rejected by an entire community since high school. But even then, people had enough humility not to look at her like she was a dust mite stuck to their shoe.
She wasn't relieved of the thumping ache in her chest until she finally reached Hikaru's office clear across the building, Styrofoam cup in hand, full of water, too anxious for anymore caffeine.
But at least she was alone.
She'd spent so long wandering, lost but too nervous to ask for directions, that his meeting should be close to a conclusion by now, she figured, and decided to spend these last few minutes until he'd arrive, counting the quiet ticks of her watch, slumped into one of the chairs in front of his desk.
And almost jumped straight to her feet, like an excited puppy when the door finally creaked open, hoping for him to grumpily declare they were going home now.
"I hope I'm not imposing."
Her gut twisted, and she sunk as far as she could into her chair as Fujibayashi casually strolled into the room.
She didn't think she'd have to lock the door.
"I've been waiting for that Hitachiin to step away, so I could have the chance to talk to you alone." He said. His weirdly pleasant smile hanging onto every word. "He doesn't tend to share."
She looked down at ripples in her water, glaring at her own hands to stop them from shaking. "Is that so?"
"But can you blame me for being curious?" he asked, with a bit of a sigh, making the buttons of the blazer strain. "You've always got this look on your face like you're thinking an awful lot."
He started walking closer, and she tried to push her chair back to widen the gap between them, but it wouldn't budge.
Fujibayashi neared Hikaru's desk, eyes squinting behind his glasses, clearly looking for something.
He thumbed through a stack of papers that already hung so threateningly close to the edge. "I can tell you're a fascinating person to talk to."
Haruhi forced out a modest chuckle. "You give me too much credit."
"Oh no, please don't think of this as flattery," she didn't. "I'm far above that, but I've heard a lot about you. You're admirable, so I only speak out of genuine respect."
He's heard of her? Did Hikaru talk about her at work?
"I'll take the compliment then." That made him smirk.
She watched from the corner of her eye, as he opened one of the drawers, and started flipping through a graphed notepad with such mild interest it made her sweat.
"You went to Ouran academy as a scholarship student, and moved overseas on your own when you were just eighteen." Daichi cared enough to add, finding something curious enough that he ripped it's page out of the notepad and stuck the crumbled paper ball into his coat.
"That alone is enough to strike a conversation, but plenty of important people seem quite fond of you, that I really couldn't help wondering what was so special about you."
"I mean," he paused to look up at her, knowing from the look on his face that he knew she was watching as he stole a fancy pen from Hikaru's cup holder and tucked it neatly into his chest pocket, "not only are the Hitachiin's taken with you. Kyoya Ootori nearly bit the head off of my secretary for speaking ill of you."
Haruhi had to bite her tongue to stop herself from wanting to ask how he knew Kyoya.
Then her steady train of thought was also distracted. Tracing his words back to the part about Kyoya defending her. He still... remembers me?
But that was a mistake, the moment her eyes left him, he lunged forward. His tall body towering above her head as he leaned forward. His hands latching onto the metal arms, trapping her between him and the crinkling faux leather.
She finally gasped, quickly finding out that the chair she'd been sitting on was a recliner, when he reached down and pulled something, and she fell back with a jerk. His knee parting her legs.
She felt her cup slip out of her hand, and the water splash on the floor.
"I know you snooped through things you weren't supposed to." Her eyes widened, thinking about the flash drive. "You saw those pictures, didn't you?"
His knee kept her from closing her legs. She couldn't move, she couldn't shake her head no, or think of a snappy comment that'd tell him yes, that she had seen them. She couldn't even make her hands move, to her phone that she felt slip out of her skirt pocket. Hikaru had to be finished with his conference now. He had to be on his way here any minute.
Her eyes flicked to the door he'd left wide open.
Somebody would have to.
"You're so smart, I can tell you've already figured well enough out." he growled under his breath, his face inching closer to make sure she could hear every word. "Just know, that if those pictures show up in court, I'll see it as a personal attack on not just me, but the whole company, so you'd better keep your mouth shut."
He was about to pull away, until he saw anger flicker across her face. "So I was right," She finally breathed. "You're abusing her."
"That's an awful thing to say - I love her."
"You're sick."
Something unreadable flashed across the muscles in his cheeks. His top lip twitched then the chair jerked, giving no time for her to react before his hand flew to throat, forcing her head into the plush of the chair.
His hand felt like ice as his fingers closed in around her pulse. His grip not tight enough to cut off her air completely, but tight enough to restrict it until her eyes started to water. She fought back instinctively, her nails digging into his wrist, but her hand was too small, too scared, that it didn't do much but leave tiny dents, in the shape of her nails.
She squinted to see yet if anyone was standing in the doorway. She wasn't about to scream for help, but Hikaru's office was so far down a dead end hallway, she doubted anyone would hear if she did.
"You don't know anything about me." he hissed, close to her face, in almost a whisper, tightening his grip on her until she opened her mouth in a fruitless gasp. "I don't care who you are. I don't care if you've managed to slither your miserable way into all the cracks and have the entire Suoh empire wrapped around your finger. I've worked too hard here just to have some filthy strumpet come out of nowhere and have me thrown under the bus."
"I really do want the best for Hikaru and the company," his tone changed as he added helplessly. "We have different views on the best, you and I, clearly, but say we find common ground-"
"You've never known what's best for anybody." She strained, making him raise his brow. "I've met men like you. We call them psychopaths."
"Not true," he said simply, so close she could smell the stale hint of nicotine on his breath. Fuck she hated that stuff. "In fact, I know what'd be best for you."
"While you're laying back, sucking his dick, I'll be making everything he's ever known into a living fucking nightmare, so you'd better stay the hell out of my business."
A lot of difficult things were running through her head, mainly, all of the worst possible torments he could possibly pull Hikaru through, but still trapped in a vulnerable position, she was afraid to ask what and instead, only managed a horrified whisper, face turning a pale pink, "We're not like that."
"I'm in luck then."
He closed the gap between them, lowering his chest against her until she really couldn't move. - She couldn't tell him to stop. She tilted her face away and started to kick, but hitting his shin only made his other hand clamp down painfully on her knee to hold her still, before she got a face full of his scratchy beard as he pressed his mouth to her lips.
The familiar sense of dread sent her heart spiraling, but her sudden cry only hummed between their lips as he swallowed the last breath she was able to force out. She couldn't breath from her nose; she'd rather lose consciousness than inhale anymore of the stench from his last cigarette.
She squeezed her eyes shut. feeling the cupid's bow of her lip tingle as he swiped his tongue along it, painstakingly slow, and sank nearly all the way into the crease of the chair until he eventually pulled away, and his hand finally loosened it's grip.
"It'd also be best for you to keep this just between us." He lent down to get one final whiff of her hair. "I don't think either one of us cares for a scandal."
He left her there, behind a closed door, with a chill and a bad taste in her mouth.
Nearly two hours had passed before the conference was dismissed, and you would have thought he was a caged lion breathing fresh air for the first time the way he stumbled out into the hallway before anyone else had the chance to stand up from their seats.
But that didn't compare to the intensity of his stride as he made his way towards the main lobby, coming from his office, with Haruhi's phone tucked safely in the hidden pocket inside his blazer. And every time it thumped against his chest, with every stiff jerk of his leg, he imagined him pounding his fist into Fujibayashi's fat ugly nose.
There was no sign of Haruhi besides her phone that he found stuck inside the recliner in his office after he'd tried to call her. Of course he didn't have any realistic reason to think why he would do anything to her, but it was too much of a coincidence that Fujibayashi excused himself during the first quarter of the meeting and never came back, and now Haruhi was nowhere to be found.
And there was plenty of choice reasons why he could be pissed at him. And what could be the easiest form of payback than targeting his Haruhi. She made a easy target. She was so small, and all alone.
But there was no reason he'd have any animosity towards her, unless-
No. There was no way he'd found out she was on his laptop that day. He wasn't even at work then. And he was watching her the whole time. No one was following her. Much less saw her enter that room, besides his father.
No. Stupid. Of course Fujibayashi knew it was him. He knew damn well he had that stupid project on his computer and who's fault would it be if it and everything else suddenly vanished. He knew he took it. Even if he never else left his car. And what better way to get back at him than Haruhi.
Because she was small, and sweet, and perfect and all alone.
Stupid. He should've never involved her that day, trying to get his stupid project back. He should've never involved her with him. He should never have let her out of his sight.
What were you thinking.
A sink feeling crept up to his stomach and it made his teeth grit and his legs go numb. He barely stayed on his feet as he cut the corner into the lobby and was thrown back after ramming into someone else's shoulder.
Because as if he spoke for the fucking devil - there he was.
"Would you watch where you're going? You're like a damn bulldozer." Daichi almost shouted, checking the front of his shirt to see if he'd spilled his coffee, and Hikaru had to fight the urge to not grab him by his collar and choke him with his own tie.
"Where's Haruhi?" he demanded.
"How am I supposed to know?" Fujibayashi said. "Keep track of your women."
"You were with her just now," He snapped, accusingly. "What did you say to her?"
"Do you really want to go there?" he said, in warning, as he felt Hikaru's hand latch onto his arm. "When I could have the police banging on your front door before tomorrow morning for all the things you've done? Don't accuse me."
Hikaru's expression faltered. Just a little. And he was able to ripped himself free from his fist.
"That's what I thought."
But before Fujibayashi could step around him, his arm lashed out for the front of his blazer and yanked him forward, making him stumble forward, until their noses were less than a hand's length apart. "If you put your hands on her, you better hope to god I don't find you and break every bone in your pathetic body."
"Are you threatening me?"
Hikaru shook his head, to tell himself not to say anything else. He didn't have the breath to waste on him anymore.
He shoved him away, leaving a wrinkle in his jacket. He had to get away from him. He couldn't look at his face anymore, or else he'd want to rearrange it, and he had to find Haruhi. But he continued before he could even turn his back.
"Bitch isn't worth my time anyway."
He turned back, and suddenly went blind. He didn't know what he was thinking, and his arm was moving like a reflex. His hand reached out and snatched the coffee cup sitting loosely under his fingers and threw it across the room. It made the many onlookers look their way in shock as the coffee made a puddle on the floor.
But Daichi only frowned. "You're making a scene."
"Fuck off."
Then he finally walked away, watching everyone else make a path for him as they scrambled out of his way, desperate not to be his next victim, and he could feel their eyes burning holes into his back.
And on that note, Hikaru left through the front doors of Ito-Co for the last time.
