I am... back! Sort of! I hope you're still there, too. Enjoy!
9:45 p.m.
"I do think the research is promising, but I don't know all the specifics… I wish I could, but I haven't had the time," Tenri-san was confiding in Hani-senpai, apparently drawn in by the invisible code among scientists into full confidence. Hani-senpai was nodding with an unusually serious look on his face, but the whole effect was mitigated by the large mound of strawberry shortcake that he and Tenri-san were digging into. The part closest to Tenri-san had a few bites taken out. The parts closest to Hani-senpai were almost gone.
"You certainly have the time now, with your newly unemployed situation," Kyouya drawled from the sidelines. Tenri-san barely deigned to spare him a glance.
"I'm sure you have something interesting to say about all this, Haninozuka-san," she said forcefully, taking another bite of the cake.
"Nee, I'm sure… but it is past ten, you know? Almost my bedtime. I don't like to talk about work before sleep," he said, yawning like a small boy. Tenri-san smiled contritely.
"I'm sorry," she apologized.
"Don't worry, Tenri-san," Hani-senpai said. "I would love to meet you soon! And maybe Yuu-chan as well, Reiko loves her series on Lala!"
"Well, Yuu grabs every chance she can to avoid her deadline, so…"
"That's perfect! I'll get in touch, okay?" Hani-senpai's face glowed with satisfaction. "You should take the rest of the cake, Tenri-san. Well, except for that side, I was hoping to take it with me… and that side, with the chocolate garnish…"
"Why don't you just get a whole new one, senpai," Kyouya suggested drily. Hani-senpai smiled guiltily.
"I would, Kyou-chan, but Reiko's been recently watching my diet. Apparently, I'm getting the middle-age belly! Can you believe it?" To demonstrate his disbelief, Hani-senpai poked at his belly which, in Kyouya's estimation, was rather beginning to bulge out. The effect was accentuated by the fact that Hani-senpai was so small to begin with.
"I don't see any difference," Kyouya said. Hani-senpai threw Tenri-san a knowing glance.
"You see, Tenri-san, many people might take that at face value, but you must notice that Kyou-chan is very good at lying like that! I know he noticed my belly within the first five minutes of seeing me."
"I'm well-aware of Ootori-san's tendencies," Tenri-san said politely.
"How would you? You've barely spent half an hour with me," Kyouya objected, amused. Tenri-san was still refusing to fully look at his direction.
"It's self-evident," she said succinctly.
"I'll take the cake," Hani-senpai said, lost in his own process of self-negotiation. "I think… we should go to another cake shop next time, Tenri-san… and we could try something new for you, wouldn't that be nice?"
"It would," Tenri-san agreed politely. Kyouya cocked his head, deliberating.
Hani-senpai had chosen a rather nice restaurant, certainly casual by the standards of the society's upper echelons, but fancier than anywhere Tenri-san's ever been, Kyouya was willing to wager. And indeed her eyes wandered in many directions when they first entered, at the ceiling, at the floor, at the menu and all the objects that were introduced in front of her, but she accepted politely, asked Hani-senpai for advice on food selection ("you don't know what that is? What about this one? Not that one, either? Then just get what I get, Tenri-san, I know all the best courses!"), and followed suit when they all got up to leave. He didn't detect in her any special delight in novel things that she found, she didn't seem to enjoy any of the finer things any more than a snack at McDonald's, even though she did seem fazed by all the strange niceties.
Convincing her through material things wouldn't work well, then, he decided as the company stepped outside to leave. Pushing on her geek-like enthusiasm for science seemed the more obvious way to go.
"Good night, everyone," Hani-senpai said, his eyes already bleary with sleep. "See you soon."
"It was a pleasure, Haninozuka-san," Tenri-san said. Kyouya merely waved in farewell.
"Tell Tamaki to stop sending me baby pictures, senpai."
"Eh? You know, Kyou-chan, he would if you just stopped by for half an hour, Tama-chan would be so happy to see you."
"He's in Paris."
"Well, half an hour stop, eleven hour flight, times two…" Hani-senpai yawned. "Equals somethingsomethingsomething."
"Good night," Kyou-chan said, shutting the door behind Hani-senpai. The pair watched as Hani-senpai's car drove off, but then Tenri-senpai started walking toward the other direction without any preamble.
"Where are you going?" Kyouya said.
Tenri-san didn't even look back. Kyouya ran after her and caught her arm.
"Wait a minute," he said. "Where do you think you're going?"
"Let me go," she said, trying to shake him off.
"Let me drive you."
"You clearly don't drive," she said derisively, indicating at his car and Tachibana, who was standing patiently next to the passenger seat door. Kyouya made another note. Display of class also wouldn't work well, either, to convince her.
"I'll drop you off, then."
"I'm stopping by someplace."
"I have time."
"I'm sure that time would be better spent going to France, Kyou-chan," Tenri-san said scathingly. Kyouya exhaled frustratedly.
"That's my world," he said. "And I'm saying I can afford to take you home late at night. When's the last metro car?"
"I have enough time," she mumbled, but from her fingers that drummed in calculation, he could tell that he struck a nerve.
"Where do you need to go?" he asked. She stared at him stolidly for a few seconds before telling him the district.
"Isn't that the opposite direction of your apartment?" Kyouya asked.
"You know where my apartment is?" Tenri-san countered, clearly unhappy about this fact.
"That's the least interesting thing I know about you," Kyouya muttered. "Come on, I'll take you there."
The car ride was silent for a while. She'd gotten in the car awkwardly as Tachibana waited for her, and mumbled a low thank-you before he shut the door next to her. Kyouya regarded her, knowing that his look made her feel even more uncomfortable. He had to provoke her in some way, find a way in, and if making her uncomfortable was the way, then so be it.
"What else do you know about me?" Tenri-san asked suddenly, looking back at him. The nightlights flashed on her pale face like paint on a blank canvas, and he saw the pink, red, blue and yellow streaks on her face, making her look strangely ghostly. For a moment there wasn't the engaged scientist he'd seen throughout the evening, but… a woman. A tired, sad woman.
Sad?
He looked at her closely. Her lips closed resolutely—no, bit down by her teeth. She was trying to keep them from trembling. The dark shadows under her eyes. Her eyelashes moved rapidly as she tried to keep their eye contact, refusing to back down, but her fingers were knotted together.
That's what you've done to her, Kyouya, a small voice that sounded irritatingly like Tamaki's sounded in his head but Kyouya pushed it aside.
"Pardon?" he asked, still staring at her face. It wasn't the prettiest face by far, but he had to admit that he was strangely entranced by the light that reflected off her cheeks and the forehead.
"What else do you know about me, other than where I live?"
Kyouya finally looked away. Honesty probably wasn't the best policy. "Basic background check. Educational history, employment history, bank statements… nothing too scandalous, Tenri-san."
"You could've just asked for my resume," Tenri-san said sardonically. "By an email."
Kyouya had to admit that that would've taken a lot less effort than clandestinely arranging the buy-out of several medium-sized tech companies for months while building his own team of people. "And maybe some other details," he said.
"What details?"
Kyouya hesitated. "I don't think they're very relevant here, Tenri-san," he said diplomatically.
"So everything, basically."
Kyouya risked another look at her. She was looking straight ahead, refusing to look at anywhere in particular, least of all any part of him. Kyouya looked away. "Not everything. I don't know why we need to go to that place right now, for example."
"That's none of your business."
"I'm taking you there."
"You offered. I was tired."
"Tenri-san," Kyouya started, and then reweighed his options. What was there to gain from telling her anything more? Just how crucial was she to the plan, really? One person in a dozen-player game?
Kyouya couldn't explain how he felt, either. She was just one person, just one resume in front of him at one point. He was reviewing potential engineers and scientists for his project. The Project. Her education was good, career highly promising with international experience, to boot, but something made her stand out, and Kyouya wasn't sure what. The background check on her was certainly some stuff of a novel, but nothing Kyouya hadn't seen before. Korean mother who passed away. Alcoholic father. Teenage years with her aunt in Kyoto. She was a strong person. But so were many.
Still somehow he felt, instinctively, that she was important to this game. Somehow. He knew.
And he couldn't let her go now.
"Tenri-san," he tried again. "I can tell you that I was surprised when I first met you."
"So was I," she responded, emotionless. "I'd never seen such a prick."
"I have great respect for you," Kyouya said carefully. "Respect for your work, which I'd known about from the beginning… and for you," to a certain extent, Kyouya added hastily in his head. But she didn't need to hear that.
"Respect?" the disbelief in her voice matched the look on her face. "Respect? Is that why you sought me out the moment something I'd devoted my life to just vanished? Is that why you ruined all the applications I sent out? Respect?"
"I want you to work with me," Kyouya said.
"You're happy to control me—and so many other people, from the sound of it."
"I would've approached you," Kyouya said. "I would've approached you before your company went down if I thought I could convince you that way, but I saw how set you were about not merging with a bigger name. You were content to have less resources if it meant you could keep some autonomy—"
"That's called principle—"
"I'm not disputing it, I'm saying I baited and took my time. I would've approached you but I knew it wouldn't work, so I waited until I thought you would be more willing to consider my proposition."
The silence from her part felt almost encouraging. Almost.
"What do you mean, you baited?" she said quietly.
"I waited."
"No, you said you baited. You knew something like that was going to happen, you knew that the company was going to get sold—" she stopped in her tracks and looked at him disbelievingly.
"No."
The look on her face told him that she'd figured it out. Or, at least, that she got the basic idea.
"Hirose had some… things he wanted to keep concealed," Kyouya said. "Nakajima needed a pressing point to get the deal."
"I thought Nakajima was a rival of the Ootori group."
"There are no strict rivals or strict allies in my book, Tenri-san," Kyouya said, trying to sound soothing. It wasn't going to work, but he might've as well tried.
"And I didn't need your company, certainly not with Hirose on the board," Kyouya said. "I needed you."
"Stop the car."
"Tenri-san—"
"Stop. The. Car."
"We're on a highway."
"Do I look like I give a damn?" Her eyes were now flashing, not with the colors of the nightlights, but with tears. Something in Kyouya's heart clenched.
You did this, Kyouya.
"Stay out of my life," she said. "Stay far away from me, and stay out of my life." She tried to unlock the door, but it wouldn't budge. Thank Tachibana and his prediction skills.
"Let me out."
"Tenri-san—"
"Let me out! Or are you going to keep me here as a hostage?" Now tears were flowing down her cheeks, very slowly, very reluctantly, and she was clearly unhappy to display the sign of weakness. She bit her lips again and turned her face away.
"What did I ever do to you?" she said, her voice trembling.
"You caught my attention," Kyouya answered quietly. He was skilled in the art of negotiation, deals, and persuasion, but—he wasn't the best when it came to comforting distraught women. Especially when they were distraught because of him. But then again, he never really got involved in anyone's life this closely before, not in his professional life. But he needed her. Only God knew why, but he knew that he needed her.
"Just—consider, won't you?" Kyouya continued, trying to sound as gentle as he knew how. "I realize how much my means are unpleasant to you, but look at the result, I—have already met with Sugimoto, Chiba, and a few others, you already know of them because you yourself are interested in what they do, what they can do, and—I know you have projects in your head, projects you didn't know if you could ever get off the ground. Now you have all the people you might ever want to make those things come true. Anything you want."
"I am supposed to believe," Tenri-san ground out, "that this is for my benefit as well?"
"Businesses are run on certain models, and that means sometimes sacrificing flexibility, innovation. I want to create a space for people, a small group of people, with as much autonomy as the resources they have allow, to come up with something spectacular."
"Spectacular," she repeated wryly. "Such enthusiasm, Ootori-san, does not suit you."
"We're here, Kyouya-sama," Tachibana's voice came through the speaker. "Shall we wait?"
"Yes," Kyouya said, pressing the microphone button, while Tenri-san simultaneously said, "no."
"You needn't wait," she said stiffly.
"Your home is an hour away from here," Kyouya said.
"I'm well aware." She opened the door and left. Kyouya hastily followed. It was raining.
"Tenri-san," he started again, but Tenri-san was already knocking on the shop window of a ragged little repair shop that was already closed.
"Asada-san," she said. "Sorry I'm late, I was unexpectedly delayed. To Kyouya's surprise, the old door groaned open, and an old man peaked out into the rainy night.
"Tenri-san!" he exclaimed. "You should've called! I thought you'd come on a different day."
"I couldn't wait, my phone is broken as well and I've no way of telling time," Tenri-san responded tersely. "I apologize for my tardiness."
"Why don't you come in?" The Asada-san noticed Kyouya. "Is he with you?"
"Good evening," Kyouya said politely. "I was about to take Tenri-san back home, I thought she should go to bed on time."
"That's rather nice of you," Asada-san said, eyeing him curiously. Tenri-san obviously had other words on her mind, but she managed to suppress them.
"Could I have the spare parts?" she asked instead.
"Are you sure you don't want me to take a look at them?"
"I'll try on my own first," Tenri-san said, smiling thinly. "I like it, you know."
Asada-san chucked good-naturedly. "I remember, Tenri-san. I remember. Just wait a moment." The old man disappeared into the shop again and Kyouya drew closer, trying to find shelter under the small awning.
"Watch repair shop?" Kyouya said in disbelief. "At this hour?"
"This was the original plan for my day," Tenri-san answered stoically. "Why, has your routine never been disrupted by someone else before?"
Kyouya decided that it wasn't the best time to retort.
"I'm guessing this place didn't show up on the background check, either," she continued.
"No, madam, it did not," Kyouya answered curtly. The rain dripped down her cheeks like a thousand tears and by the Greek and Roman gods combined, Kyouya wanted nothing but to fall into his bed and not face the reality of his own creation. She let out a shudder that fogged in the cold night air.
Thankfully, Asada-san didn't take long to come back.
"It's a pity that I can't convince you to stay," he said regretfully as Tenri-san dug through her wallet. "I always enjoy our conversations, you know."
"I do too," Tenri-san said quietly, and despite her subdued tone Kyouya knew she was sincere.
"I'll drop by soon," she promised, paying the old man for the parts.
"I should hope so," Asada-san said, and after farewells, they got in the car to drive to the other side of the town.
The ride was quiet. Both were wet and, despite the heater, Kyouya felt sticky. Uncomfortable. Tenri-san took off her old leather jacket and placed it between the two of them to try. She untied her wet hair which until now had been drawn together into a ponytail, and her hair curled slightly as it dried back.
She saw him looking at her.
She turned back to staring out the window.
"Why are you wearing the watch, if it's broken?" Kyouya finally said. Tenri-san looked down impulsively. Around her pale, lean wrist was a heavy-set watch, old-fashioned, sparkling dully under the passing lights.
"Habit."
"When was it made?"
"Are you an expert on antique watches as well?" Taunting voice. Kyouya stifled a sigh.
"Smalltalk, Tenri-san."
"It doesn't suit you."
"I know," Kyouya said. "I'm trying for you."
"Should I be flattered?"
Kyouya sighed for real this time. "Yes, Tenri-san," he admitted quietly. "You should."