Kyoya wouldn't say that their solution to conflict was healthy, if it could even be called a solution. The days following Karuizawa were full, day to night and night to day, of what he and Hana did best – work. There was more than enough of that to keep them busy. He only stepped away for a few minutes that night to take a hot shower. Kyoya wasn't one to indulge in lengthy showers, but even he could appreciate how the steam and his fragrant spearmint body wash cleared his sinuses and how the high water pressure worked out some stiffness in the taut muscles of his back. Satisfied that all traces of bath products were gone from his hair and skin, he turned the valve and reached for a plush towel hanging just outside of the glass doors.
There were only two instances when Kyoya's hair wasn't styled and didn't wear his glasses. The first was the start of the day, in the moments when he had just woken. The second instance followed his daily shower at night or in the evenings. On this particular night, his shower had been pushed back by the sheer mountain of work that they took upon themselves to scale. Kyoya slipped on a pair of luxurious lounge pants and hung his towel over his shoulders to catch the droplets falling from his dark hair. It was customary for him to leave the shower without a shirt on, and he had considered amending that habit when Hanako first started assisting him. It was improper, after all, for a young gentleman to be in such a state of undress in the presence of a young lady. However, Hanako had only acknowledged him with disinterest and told him not to change his routine for her sake, pointing out that she had grown up with two brothers and a torso was nothing new nor was it offensive. So, on this particular night, he emerged from the bathroom, black hair loose around his bare face, and found Hanako sitting on the floor at the coffee table they liked to work at with her legs tucked under her body and her torso resting on the sofa, using her arms as a pillow.
"Hana?" Kyoya called out to her when he approached. To his mild surprise she didn't respond, and he set a hand on the soft cotton on her shoulder and gently tried to rouse her from her sleep. The young man sat on the cushion beside her and sighed. They weren't going to get anywhere like this. "Hana, we haven't finished yet," he reminded her. She had already changed out of that ridiculous suit of hers and into a white t-shirt over slim-legged lilac lounge pants. Kyoya didn't typically witness Hanako sleeping. Frankly, he rarely saw her eat. She looked much less intimidating when her sharp caramel eyes were closed. Upon closer inspection, her breathing came out in agitated huffs, and a pink flush colored her face and neck. Kyoya turned his wrist slightly and pressed the back of his long fingers against her neck. Her skin felt clammy, and Kyoya frowned as he withdrew his hand.
He knew it was a bad idea for her to run into the storm. There were times, like this one, when he looked at her and wondered how she could be so inconsiderate. She had no idea what Karuizawa had been like for him. From the very start, he knew that she shouldn't have been there. The chances that her grandparents would find her were too great, and of course, he was right. Anxious wasn't the right word for the sense of dreadful anticipation that plagued him. Helpless may have been a better word. Kyoya was accustomed to having the solution to every scenario. He prided himself on that ability, a combination of skill and entitlement that allowed him just about whatever he wanted. Yet, there was a natural order to their world that maintained balance between the highborn families. The Matsuras, the Suohs, the Ayanokojis, and the Ootoris existed in a kind of stalemate. None dared move against the other alone. It was, he knew, what was so impressive about Akina Negida. At nineteen years old she had forced the already crippled, empty house of the Matsuras into a corner. Yet, he was just the seventeen year old third born son of the Ootori family. There was nothing he could have done for Hana other than beg her not to go, and Kyoya Ootori did not beg.
"When did you start being so much trouble?" he said to her, both exasperated and gentle. Stooping down around her frame, he lifted her with some effort. Her hands naturally fell to her abdomen while he cradled her against his chest, and he carried her bridal style to her bedroom. She shifted in his arms and mewled in discomfort, looking far more like a docile kitten than the vicious panther he knew her to be.
He didn't spend much time in Hana's room, and when he pushed the door open to the darkened space, he was surprised by how much it had changed in the past few months. It must have been a slow accrual that he didn't notice. As he crossed the floor to her bed, he passed new framed photos of their club mates. One on the dresser with the twins flanking Haruhi, a candid on the bookshelf of he and Tamaki together, and another one beside that with all of them gathered around a table in the club room. It was the most personalized he had ever seen the room.
Kyoya set her on the bed carefully, and pulled her luxurious comforter over her body, only for her to thrash in protest and spread her arms and legs out. "'s too hot," she grumbled in protest.
"That's because you have a fever from that stunt you pulled in Karuizawa," he replied candidly.
"It wasn't a stunt."
He pulled the covers over her again, tucking them around her so she couldn't escape them, "It wasn't very well-thought out." Her hazy caramel eyes opened slowly and she glared at him weakly from under the thick blanket. "I'm going to have some medicine sent up for you. Don't move," he pointed at her in warning before leaving her side to find a hand towel in the attached bathroom.
He had no idea what he was doing. There wasn't a real reason good enough to explain why he was using precious time to tend to his sick bodyguard. Kyoya found a stack of towels in one of the cabinets and soaked it in cold water. Hanako wasn't likely to appreciate the effort, either. Yet, here he was, wringing out Egyptian cotton terry over her sink. He returned to her side and noted with annoyance that she had kicked her way out of the comforter. Once again, he pulled the blanket over her, sitting on the corner so that she couldn't shift out of the pocket, and he patted the cold fabric across her forehead and face. After wiping away some of the sweat at her hairline and along her jaw, he folded the towel and placed it on her forehead.
Hanako had an exquisite beauty about her, and even he wasn't dull enough to not see that. There had been a time when she was a princess that put all princesses to shame, and everyone at Ouran Academy fell at her feet. Vibrant and sociable, she was well-liked by many and envied by most. Now, there were only a handful of them still privy to that side of her. Kyoya brushed away strands of hair clinging to her skin, a small comfort that he could provide her while she fought off the bug. He knew that she was an extraordinary young woman, but he didn't believe that meant that she was beyond his help.
"Hurry up and get better, Hanako. How am I going to manage all of this work without you?" his teasing seemed reach her ears, but in her drowsy state, she didn't seem to pick up on the playfulness in his voice.
"I'll be fine by morning," she mumbled.
"I'm just joking," he told her with a small smirk.
"Why?" her voice was muffled by the fabric as she turned over onto her side, "You aren't funny."
A chuckle escaped him as she made herself more comfortable, "You're so hurtful." A knock on the door sounded, and he went to answer it. Tachibana was waiting on the other side with a silver tray, carrying a bottle of fever relief pills and a glass of water. "Thank you," Kyoya opened the door for the other man to enter. His body guard set the tray on Hanako's bedside and looked back at Kyoya, who was waiting by the bookshelf for Tachibana to continue on.
"She wouldn't get sick so easily if she started eating better," Tachibana said with a heavy sigh, like a father who was disappointed with an outcome that could have been prevented through healthy habits. "I can stay with her, Kyoya-sama. I'm sure you have plenty of work to do."
He did, but looking at Hana, practically swaddled in the oversized blanket, with her brows drawn in discomfort and her cheeks flushed from the fever, he sighed and shook his head. "I'll stay a little while longer. I can manage. Go home for the night. I'll let you know if I need help."
{OR}
Hana woke up in a daze. A stray beam of light landed across her eyes, and she turned onto her side to face her clock. Strange. She hadn't set an alarm for the morning. The obnoxiously bright red lights told her that it was already past ten. Groggily, she rolled onto her feet. She felt absolutely disgusting, and her head throbbed in protest of all movement. Her body resisted every step of the way to the bathroom. Her limbs felt heavy, and her head spun with every step. Hana stripped off the white cotton shirt and lilac pants, wondering why she hadn't changed into her pajamas before bed. She wanted a warm shower, and she felt much better after scrubbing off her skin and washing her face. She felt refreshed when she stepped out; albeit, in no better condition than when she woke up. Hana pulled on a simple cotton underwear set and stumbled to her closet. She haphazardly picked out a shirt and stuck her arms through the sleeves, buttoning them up as best as she could. She sat on the bed and got her legs through the black pants. Hana didn't bother putting on the jacket, but she pulled it off the hanger before making her way to the door.
What she did couldn't have been considered walking. Her head felt so stuffy that she couldn't quite keep her balance, and as soon as the door opened, she staggered into the waiting arms of her staff members. As soon as she felt hands on her, she thrashed her arms gracelessly, resisting their efforts to guide her back to bed.
"Ge'off," she slurred through her fever and headache as Honda and Aijima maneuvered her back to bed. "I need to get to work with Kyoya."
"Kyoya-sama is out for the day," Tachibana informed her, while Honda and Aijima jointly wrapped her back up into her blankets. She looked like some sort of worm in a chrysalis, glaring at them half-awake with only her face visible.
"Out where?" she demanded, suddenly more sober than she had been a moment ago. "Who's his guard?" Tachibana opened a bottle of fever medication sitting at her bedside and poured out two capsules, holding his hand out to her with a glass of water offered in the other. She frowned in disgust of the pills, and shook her head ridiculously.
"I'm not saying anything until you take your medicine, Negida," Tachibana bartered. With a humph, she opened her mouth, and he popped the two white pills in. The man brought the glass to her lips and tilted it slightly for her to drink. "We were ordered to stay here and make sure you get rest today."
Hana gulped loudly and started wriggling out of the cocoon, "That's preposterous." Managing to free one arm, Hana reached blindly to her nightstand, patting her way to her phone. When she found the device, she flipped it open and dialed Kyoya's cell phone. She waited patiently for it to connect, and then, the ringtone sounded inside her room. Lowering her phone, she looked over her room until she found Kyoya's cell phone lighting up on her dresser next to his wallet. "You've got to be kidding me," she snapped the phone shut and rubbed her fingers into her forehead. What a headache. "I'm heading out. Where is he?"
Hana hadn't quite gotten out of Aijima's expert swaddling, and her attempt to roll out of bed ended up with her almost landing on the floor in a heap. Luckily for her, Tachibana and Honda caught her just before she could collide with the floor. Hana groaned at the rolling of her brain with the motion.
"Kyoya-sama is in good hands," Tachibana assured her. "He's with Suoh, the Hitachiin twins, Haninozuka, and Morinozuka."
Hana groaned again, louder and more distressed. "How is that supposed to make me feel better?" The Host Club only ever got into trouble. She could only imagine what they had dragged Kyoya into this time.
{OR}
Kyoya prodded the bundle under the covers that was Hanako. She shifted and groaned back grumpily, "Just let me sleep, Kyoya."
"I have your medicine," he shook the bottle for her, and she burrowed under the blankets. He sighed and popped out two of the white pills. "You'll feel better after you take some," he coaxed, drawing down the top of the comforter, only for her to snuggle deeper into the bed. Impatient as ever, he threw the comforter back, exposing the girl curled up in a ball in the corner of the bed. "Nowhere to hide, Hana. Take your medicine and stop acting like a child."
She slowly drew herself up into a sitting position, glowering at him through half-lidded eyes like some kind of vengeful house cat. Kyoya handed her the pills and the glass of water that Tachibana left. "You make the worst patient," he remarked, fixing the blanket around her as she swallowed down the medication and the rest of the water.
"I hate being sick," she asserted. "Those pills hurt my throat, and I can't get anything done. We should be working right now."
Yes, they should have been, but he wasn't about to force her to work through a fever as bad as the one she had. There wasn't much time left to their summer and they still had loads of paperwork and data to get through. Hana had taken over the school requirements for the club's term reports, allowing Kyoya to focus on other endeavors. If he had known that she was on the verge of falling ill, he would've sent her to bed sooner. He didn't want anything less than her best work, and he didn't want her to be sick when school started up again. She had enough on her plate without falling behind on schoolwork. At least she knew what a hindrance it was to them both, but surprisingly, he wasn't as bothered by the unfortunate drawback as he thought he would be.
"If you didn't want to get sick, then you shouldn't have run into the rain without covering your head," Kyoya scolded, taking the glass from her and setting it on the bedside. "It's shocking how easily adverse consequences could be avoided with a little prevention."
Hanako scoffed and twisted into the blanket, "You really are a mother."
He hummed in agreement and sat on the edge of her bed, looking down at the young woman who had displaced the towel on her forehead, again. He picked the folded up fabric and determined that it needed to be run under more water. "You're the only person I'd go through all this trouble for," he acknowledged, saying it as easily as he would mention a simple chore that fell to him. He brought the towel back to the sink and thought about the events that led up to this moment.
He had determined quite quickly that he couldn't blame her for running after Hikaru and Haruhi. He hadn't been surprised that she disobeyed him, but he found himself more aggravated by how easily she dismissed him and took off. Karuizawa had been a series of defiant moments in which Hanako blatantly ignored his input. He told her that she didn't have to go, yet she went. He told her to be careful, and Mori had to intervene. He told her to go home, and she stayed. He told her not to go out, and she ran into the rain. Yet, he didn't wish that she'd be anything less than what she was.
In fact, one of the things he had always admired about her was her devotion to the Hitachiins. He and his own brothers had never been as close as she was with the twins. It was, perhaps, one of the steadfast qualities about her throughout her tumultuous life. He made the best effort during their partnership not to get in the way of that bond. Her dinners with the Hitachiins, her modeling career, the anniversary, leaving her with them at the pension, and watching her run into a thunderstorm for Hikaru. He knew that there was nobody in the world who could measure up to the Hitachiins in her life, and there was nothing that she wouldn't do for them.
He considered himself lucky to be one of the people she had extended that sense guardianship to. There was a point when he realized that Hanako's devotion to him wasn't just born from a sense of duty. She had expressed nothing but admiration and respect for him, something that couldn't be bought of a Negida, and he knew that she had come to consider him someone who was just as worthy of her as Hikaru and Kaoru. Therefore, he had no doubt in her. However, he didn't understand why she was so insistent. Just because she'd sacrifice anything for them didn't mean that they wanted her to.
"Why did you insist on going to Karuizawa?" Kyoya asked her from the sink, hand on the valve and waiting to know if she had even heard him. It was the safest of all the questions he had been considering since Karuizawa. He couldn't very well ask why all things went back to Morinozuka, even after all that man put her through. Besides, Mori wouldn't have even been in the picture if she hadn't gone in the first place. He didn't believe for a moment that she had been so determined just because of her job. The job meant little to her compared to the grand scheme of things. It was a step in the journey to restoring her empire, and he knew that that was all she saw it as. She had chosen to take responsibility for his safety, not because his father placed her at his side, but because she was the one who deemed his safety worth her effort. So, yes, he believed that there was more to it.
An answer didn't come from the bundle on the bed, and Kyoya finally let cold water run over his hands. The water rushed loudly, and when the towel was soaked, he shut the tap. Kyoya squeezed out the excess water and folded the fabric into a neat rectangle. He returned to Hana's side and found that she was looking at him with the most awareness in her gaze since before he had gone to shower.
"She was never afraid of them," Hana's voice carried on nothing more but a whisper. He handed her the towel, and she placed it on her forehead, holding it there while she pulled herself back onto the pillows to face him. "The Matsuras disapproved of everything about her, and they only wanted her to be useful to them. You know they declared bankruptcy?" He did. Everyone did. They were a noble family that had roots well into the Edo period, but their business practices hadn't been able to stand up to the rapidly changing Japanese economy. They refused to diversify. They refused to sell and adapt. By the 1980s, the Matsura Group was only holding on to their prominence through their name alone. They only conducted business with the Suohs, and that was enough to keep them afloat. Nobody knows how, but some time in the 90s, the Matsuras rescinded their declaration of bankruptcy. Somewhere along the line, they had disowned their only heir. "They wanted Mama to marry into a family that could save them from losing everything. When she refused, they cut her off. She chose to put Papa before people who never really loved her."
Hanako's admiration for her parents was something Kyoya empathized with, but he knew that the respect they harbored for their respective parents was very different in nature. "I hate them, but I'm not afraid of them," she admitted to him shamelessly, and he didn't hold it against her because he was fully aware of the type of people Shiori and Kosuke Matsura were. "There are worse things that could happen to me than the Matsuras."
Her eyes were trained on a portrait in the small altar situated at the corner of her room, and she pulled the blanket up around her as if its warmth could banish the sorrow in her heart. Akina's death had been public and brutal, and Hanako had only been a child, watching from home as the gunshots sounded over the music and the televised feed cut out just as her mother's body fell to the ground.
"Nothing is going to happen to us," Kyoya assured her, finding her hand fisted in the soft sheets and taking it into his hands.
"You can't promise that," she croaked, caramel eyes piercing through him painfully.
"Even so," he interjected smoothly, "we don't want you endangering yourself for our sakes."
"That's the basis of my job, Kyoya," she reminded him.
He lowered himself to eye level with her, crouching next to the bed and resting his chin on his arms so that he could look her in the eye. "Alright, then. Consider this. Say, god forbid, the worst case scenario does happen, and you die doing something to save my life, or Tamaki's, or Kaoru's, or Hikaru's, or Mitsukuni's, or Takashi's, or Haruhi's."
"Renge," Hana added feebly.
Kyoya nodded into his arm, "Or Renge's. If that were to happen, do you really think we'd care about life if you weren't a part of it?"
{OR}
Haruhi hadn't been expecting Kyoya to be so brusque when they ran into each other at the department store. It was the first time that she had ever seen him by himself, really. Usually, Hanako was lingering nearby somewhere, but it seemed like the bodyguard wasn't there, either. She wondered if that had something to do with Kyoya's bad mood, but she didn't dwell on it because it was their turn to order. Haruhi didn't particularly care for anything on the menu, and she just picked out something filling for Kyoya. She wasn't even surprised by how the girl at the register perked up when she saw Kyoya, but the arctic tundra that followed was new.
"Please be sure to include our receipt," Haruhi requested pitifully in the wake of Kyoya's frigidity. He stepped out of the line gracefully, and Haruhi followed, unsure if she was taking the lead or not. Their food came out quickly, and Haruhi carried the tray as Kyoya picked out the most secluded table in the restaurant.
"Kyoya-senpai, just because you're in a bad mood today doesn't give you the right to go around talking to people like that," Haruhi scolded him. She wondered if he was like this when it was just him and Hanako, and how did Hana put up with so many people with such bad attitudes? "The poor girl was just doing her job."
Kyoya didn't have the energy to scoff at that statement. He didn't want to hear any more talk about doing one's job and other nonsense. "Her job is to serve us food," he countered, unwrapping one of the burgers, "not irritate me with some weak sales pitch." Hungry, tired, and not giving a damn, he dug into the burger ravenously. The only flavors that came through were salt and beef. It could have been grease, but he didn't care. He hadn't even swallowed his food when he noticed Haruhi staring at him across the table. "Now what?"
"Nothing. I just don't think I've ever actually seen you eat before. Somehow I thought the experience would be more refined. I'm surprised food like this even appeals to you."
"It doesn't appeal to me in the slightest. No doubt you'll say I'm callous for admitting it, since you bought this tripe."
"Of course I won't," Haruhi looked away hurriedly. She wasn't very subtle, but Kyoya already knew that about her. He also knew that she was at least thinking it. The young man finished the rest of the burger and washed it down with the high fructose corn syrup drink.
"There's an understanding between makers of food like this and those that eat it. Quality takes a backseat to convenience. Refinement isn't part of the equation. It's meant to be eaten quickly. Besides, no one of consequence is here to witness my momentary lapse of manners. And, for once, Hanako isn't here to scold me. Not that you need to know this, but if you want to make commentary about anyone's eating habits, it should be hers since she's far more likely to be skipping meals than I am." A frown pulled on his features as he considered Hana's unhealthy habit. Whatever annoyance he felt quickly morphed into simmering anger when he recalled that he was stuck in this hellish commoner establishment without any means of communicating with his bodyguard. Her fever could have worsened for all he knew, or Tachibana could have failed at keeping her in bed instead of working.
"Hey," he said after a moment lost in thought, "for the record, I'm saying it benefits me nothing to keep up appearances in a place like this. And that includes any special treatment I may give you here."
"Oh, really? I never would've guessed that in a million years." After a moment of reflection, Haruhi realized that it was the first time that Kyoya mentioned his absent bodyguard, and admittedly, she was curious about where Hana could have been while Kyoya was in such a strange place. "Hey, Kyoya-senpai, where's Hana-senpai?
The temperature around them seemed to drop a few degrees as Kyoya bit down on a fry, glowering. Maybe she shouldn't have brought it up. "Hanako has caught a fever from her stunt in Karuizawa, running into the rain like an idiot." It wasn't a stunt. Her mumbled words from the previous night echoed in his head, and he lowered his gaze to the grease stains on the paper.
So that's it, Haruhi mused. It had to be really bad for them to be separated like this. "You must be worried about her," Haruhi acknowledged sympathetically. The indifferent expression on his face didn't change, and he just continued to sip his drink through the plastic straw.
{OR}
Hanako sneezed so powerfully that her body lurched. The tray across her lap flew, and rice porridge spilled out across her gray sheets. Her staff members rectified the mess immediately. Aijima picked up the tray, Honda replaced the dirty sheets, and Tachibana removed her from and replaced her on the bed. In less than five minutes, she was back under navy sheets with a brand new tray across her lap.
{OR}
"You're probably wondering how Tamaki and I complement each other so well," Kyoya surmised from the inquisitive look on Haruhi's face after a trio of commoner girls took a chair from their table. She squirmed under his gaze for a moment, and he didn't bother telling her to relax. "The answer is simple. I have something to gain. There is no better motivator than self-interest. I have to look out for number one, you know."
Something about that didn't settle right with Haruhi. She already knew that Kyoya wasn't a jerk at his core, but the relationships he had with both Tamaki and Hanako couldn't have been so one-sided. "Tamaki-senpai would be heartbroken if he heard you say that."
"On the contrary," Kyoya pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, "he's understood our arrangement from the very beginning. The same goes for all of them: Hikaru, Kaoru, Honey-senpai, Mori-senpai. The glue that holds the Host Club together is our mutual egocentricity. It's the principle that drives the alliance between our families and ensures each of our futures. Though, well, let's just say there's still quite a bit you don't understand about that."
She was a commoner with little insight to the restrictions on each one of them. They were bound to each other through no shared interest, except for the one. They were selfish and greedy, and the object of their selfishness and greed couldn't have been anyone other than a person who understood all too well the nature of their egocentricity. If it hadn't been for Tamaki, their worlds would have been very different, and they would be very different men.
"Although Tamaki is a fool, and self-sacrifice does come naturally to him," Kyoya continued, a much softer look in his eyes as he considered his outlandish friend. "So, I guess the point of this is we are very different creatures."
Haruhi regarded him with saucer-like eyes, and she wasn't quite sure what to make of his analysis. There were things that she didn't understand, and she'd never understand them if she didn't ask. Still, she wasn't sure how Hanako fit into everything. Haruhi had always thought that the Host Club was just a group of friends, and the more time she spent with them, the more she realized how deeply troubled each of them really was. The thing that made the most and least sense to her was the raven haired girl who pulled the silk cord every day. Everything Hana did seemed to be for the members of the Host Club. "If that's how it is, then what about Hana-senpai?" Haruhi asked hesitantly, not sure how Kyoya would react.
At that, Kyoya looked at her guardedly and sighed. She would ask that. It was only natural when they were discussing the Host Club. Admittedly, there were aspects of Hana that he had never known and may never get to know. He supposed that was a truth shared by each of them. They all knew a facet of Hanako, and he doubted that any of them would ever get the full picture. He considered their particular partnership, and it may have been the most cut and dry of all. "Hanako's the one with the most to gain out of this whole arrangement."
{OR}
Hanako sneezed again. This time, the papers spread across her lap flew up in a frenzy and floated down to the ground. The door to her bedroom flew open, and her squad members immediately collected the loose sheets.
"You're not supposed to be working in your condition," Honda scolded, dropping the thick stack onto a table across the room.
"I feel fine!" she protested, sniffling into a tissue while she did.
"Get some rest!" the three men commanded sternly, shutting the door with finality on their sick supervisor.
{OR}
Kyoya couldn't fathom why Haruhi had any interest in his family. There had never been a time that he could recall anyone taking a personal interest in the Ootori family outside of their pedigree. He was something of a show dog, and he knew exactly what his place was. There was nothing wrong with the hoops he had to jump through or how high the bar was raised for him. Her questioning reminded him of one particular instance on the night that Fuyumi's engagement was announced.
His father had presented his sons to his future in-laws and the rest of the crowd, and they had all commented on how fine and creditable they were, as if they were a set of prized thoroughbred stallions. He was certain that there were other parents at that event who were already lining up their daughters for matches with any one of the Ootori sons. He hadn't cared for that event in the slightest, and none of their praises could have mattered less to him.
That particular evening had been one that would always be etched into his memory. As Kyoya remembered it, he had been walking through the halls in search of Hanako who had just started her assignment as his guard. It may have been one of the first events she attended as a member of the staff, and in retrospect, it must have been far more daunting for her than it had been for him. He came across a couple who were mutual friends of his father's and Fuyumi's in-laws, and they were discussing their thoughts about the Ootori brothers. Remarkably brilliant, yes, they all were, but it was only the first born who would succeed his father. Kyoya had been praised as the most handsome, but such superficial compliments didn't matter to him. He had been reminded that he didn't stand a chance at becoming his family's patriarch.
He never held their birth order against his brothers, but in that moment, he had been especially jealous. Kyoya, of course, didn't admit that to Haruhi. "They're rather exceptional," he answered, instead, diplomatically. "Enough so that my father puts a lot of stock in them. Though as the third son, things work out a little differently for me."
His father made it quite clear that the hurdles Kyoya had to clear to impress him were far more than was ever expected of his older borthers. Yuichi had outshone all of his academic competition. Akito had fostered a network that stretched across all of Asia and into Europe and the Americas. Kyoya was required to accomplish something grandiose just to get Yoshio's attention.
"I didn't realize there was so much pressure on you to succeed," Haruhi said.
"Pressure?" Kyoya repeated in surprise. "Oh, no, Haruhi. I can think of nothing more fun than this."
Maybe he would have considered it pressure when he was a child, but the truth was that there was someone else who he was striving to compete with. The one person in his father's life who no person had ever come close to comparing with, and that was Akina Negida. The only person in all of Japan across any living generation who could rival Yoshio Ootori. Known far more publicly for her modeling career, she was the brain behind Yuudai Negida's Spring Onion International. The woman who was savvy and witty, whose very name left a boardroom quivering with admiration and fear. No, Kyoya didn't measure himself against his brothers. He had his eye on the monolith.
{OR}
Hanako made another call. If she couldn't reach Kyoya, she'd do the next best thing. Actually, it may have been the second or third best thing, since Tamaki wasn't answering his phone.
"Hello?" Kaoru's voice greeted her.
"Where are you?" Hanako demanded through her congestion.
"Oh, hey, Hana. We're at a commoner shopping center. How're you feeling?" She could hear metal scraping across metal as he sifted through the racks in the department store.
"I'm fine," she hissed, growing more annoyed with how casual they sounded for a pair who was out in the open without a single guard on the look out, "but nobody's letting me do anything."
"Is that Hana?" Hikaru's voice carried over in the background.
"It is," Kaoru answered his brother.
A rustle sounded, and then Hikaru spoke again, closer to the microphone this time. "Hey, sis. Sorry we didn't bring you with. We popped into your room this morning, but you looked so cute bundled under the covers that we didn't wanna wake you."
They snickered on the other line, and she genuinely wondered why Hikaru couldn't have gotten sick from the storm, too. Hana massaged circles into her temple with her free hand, "That's fine. Where's Kyoya?"
"Huh, you know what," Kaoru voiced, a little off guard, "now that I think about it, I've got no idea."
"We split up to check out different things," Hikaru elaborated. "I don't think we've seen him since we got here.
"Why the hell would you split up when I'm not there? You know better than that," her voice sounded impossibly tired, and she wondered how that was even possible when all she had been doing throughout the day was sit in bed.
"Relax," the twins said.
"All of our personal security teams are covering the store," Hikaru informed her.
"Yeah, and Honey-senpai and Mori-senpair are here."
Hanako ground her teeth together, and she was preparing to point out to them that Kyoya's personal team was at the estate with her. Before she could put together a reasonable sentence, Hikaru said, "Oh, hey, we gotta go!"
"Wait, no…"
"Sorry, sis, show's about to start!"
"Love ya," they said together and ended the call on her.
Hanako grabbed the closest pillow to her, buried her face in it, and screamed in frustration, promptly falling back onto the others.
{OR}
Hana fell asleep not long after taking her first dose of medicine, and Kyoya took the opportunity to get back to work. He moved his computer and a few printed reports into her bedroom and continued to go through them on the floor next to her bed. From time to time, he'd replace the towel on her head. It was some time later in the night, maybe around 3 A.M., when she started to have chills. He could hear her shivering under the blanket and set aside his work for the moment, searching her room for another blanket. When he couldn't find one there, he retrieved the one from their workspace in his bedroom.
Kyoya threw the blanket over Hanako's comforter and pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. She was still burning up. He soaked the towel, wrung it out, and placed it on her forehead. As he moved to go back to work, he felt warm fingertips encircle his wrist.
"Sit with me for a while," Hana said quietly. "You need a break."
He wasn't going to argue that so late at night. So, he settled next to her on the bed, leaning back against the headboard while she pulled the blankets tighter up around her neck. "I thought we agreed nothing was going to change between us," she said, looking straight up at him from where she laid on the pillows.
Well, there was no point in denying it by then. Their arrangement wasn't what it used to be. Somewhere between the villa and the cottage, Kyoya and Hana had wandered into undefined territory. "I think we both knew that was an unsustainable agreement," he pointed out. "You don't seem to be making a fuss about my coddling now." She was nestled against his side, under two blankets and not making contact with him directly, but it was an intimate position. If he didn't know any better, he would have said that it was too familiar for two people like them.
"This is different."
"How?" he asked, sliding the towel back to the middle of her forehead when he saw that it had fallen a little off center.
"You aren't undermining me right now."
"How do I undermine you? You know that I have a great deal of respect for you."
"You haven't been taking my input into account when I give it," she answered. They weren't trying to fight, and Hanako was in no state for an argument, anyway. If things were changing between them, maybe they had to change, too. Maybe that meant they had to start addressing their problems head on, even if it was at 3 A.M. "Like with Komatsuzawa and in Karuizawa."
"I thought you appreciated what I did with Komatsuzawa."
"At the end of the day," she nodded into her blankets, "it was a gesture that I do still appreciate, but I can appreciate something and wish that you had listened to me in the first place at the same time. I trust your judgment, Kyo. Sometimes, it'd be nice if you trusted mine."
His violet-gray eyes held her unwaveringly as she spoke. He did trust her, but he was beginning to see that maybe he wasn't showing her that he did. He wouldn't refute her if this was what she felt. Kyoya just needed to hear it so he that he could understand what it was that he did wrong.
"I can be emotional about some things," Hanako acknowledged, and her caramel eyes bore into him, exposing her very soul to him with the admission, "but they're things that matter to me, and just because I feel strongly about them doesn't mean that I can't make an informed decision."
{OR}
It was a cat. Maybe. A cartoon black cat made out of resin, striking a peace sign and grinning with an expression that made him think of Hikaru and Kaoru. It could have been a very small, very round panther cub. Regardless, the painted cartoon eyes were a shade of gold that bore a striking resemblance to Hanako's caramel irises. It was just a little phone trinket, and he had Haruhi buy it for him.
"I didn't take you as someone who uses phone accessories, senpai," she remarked when he pocketed the little plastic bag and continued on his way.
"Hm? Oh, I'm not," Kyoya stated, putting his other hand in his pocket and stopping to sit at a bench.
"Hey, senpai," Haruhi started again, with some hesitance.
"Hm?"
"Why do you think Tamaki-senpai is always so eager to help people when they're in need?"
"You mean when there's nothing to be gained from it? Who knows."
"So then, when you help someone, how exactly do you benefit from it? Money, or reputation? Or is it more abstract? Because the way I see it, Tamaki-senpai gets something out of helping others that doesn't necessarily involve their paying him back. So maybe, when you get right down to it, the two of you aren't all that different."
She couldn't have possibly known it, but that may have been the best compliment he could have received. Maybe there had been someone who he overlooked in his youth, when he thought that wealth and reputation were the goals he needed to aspire to. Hadn't there been a man who impressed Yoshio so much with nothing but optimism and humility that Kyoya's father poured time and resources into a young company? Maybe there was someone in his life at that very moment who didn't cast a shadow that he needed to get out of but, rather, radiated a light that he needed to follow. After all, wasn't there someone who shined so brightly that even Akina Matsura embraced a new philosophy?
"Attention shoppers. This is an announcement for a lost child. Attention shoppers. This is an announcement for a lost child. A little boy named Kyoya Ootori is lost inside the store. Repeat: Kyoya Ootori is lost. His guardian, Suoh, is waiting for him at the second floor information counter. Kyoya is five feet, eleven inches tall with black hair, and wearing prescription glasses."
"That damn idiot. I'll kill him!"
Nevertheless, they walked to the second floor information desk. The entire Host Club was gathered along the edge of the desk, and when they heard his footsteps, every single one of them turned around.
"Oh Kyoya! There you are!" an elated Tamaki greeted them, "We were so worried! Why is Haruhi with you?" Per usual, Honey and the Hitachiins flocked to Haruhi, and Tamaki had gotten himself… something.
"What's with the dog?"
"Isn't she beautiful? I got her at this amazing place they call a pet shop. Hey! Cut it out, Antoinette!" Leave it to Tamaki to buy a dog in a place like the commoner mall. The blond really could find the joy in anything. The dog pushed him back down onto the floor, and he dissolved into a fit of giggles.
"How exactly am I like this moron?" Kyoya asked Haruhi.
The girl looked up at the senior student, unfazed by his cold demeanor. "I know you want me to believe your only reason for helping that woman earlier were selfish ones. But that isn't actually the truth. Because from where we were standing, there's no way you could have seen her ring. There was a flag blocking our view."
Well, he had asked, and she certainly delivered. Maybe he should start getting used to the women in his life being more direct. It certainly made things more interesting.
"It just doesn't make sense," Haruhi continued. "You go to all that trouble acting like you're such a big jerk when being a nice guy comes so naturally to you. It seems counter-intuitive." She punctuated that with a small smile, like they had their own little secret between them.
Somehow, it reminded him of another woman who had given him a similar smile ages ago.
{OR}
The first time he saw Akina Negida was in his father's office penthouse. It was a business meeting and she was waiting by the receptionist while he did his homework at the secretary's empty desk. She wore her hair in a chignon at the nape of her neck and bright red lipstick painted her lips, making her caramel eyes pop.
"You're a natural," she praised him after teaching him a trick for counting more efficiently. "You've got a lot of potential, Kyoya Ootori." The door to his father's office opened, and Yoshio greeted Akina, asking if she was waiting long.
"Not at all," she assured him pleasantly, "I was just getting to know your boy. Keep an eye on that one, Yoshi. He's going to do great things." She winked over her shoulder back at Kyoya, offering a small secretive smile that was just for him.
{OR}
When Kyoya returned home that afternoon, he went straight back up to Hanako's room and used his free hand to knock on her door.
"Come in," she called back, and he noted that her voice sounded stronger than it had the previous night. He opened the door and let himself in. There was a stack of papers he had been working on the night before right where he left it, and Hanako was sitting in the bed peacefully. Her eyes seemed to glow in the light from her window when she looked at him, relieved to see him returning before dark. "You left your phone and wallet on the dresser."
"I noticed," he replied lightly, placing the plastic bag full of goods next to her bed. He pressed the back on his hand against her forehead and acknowledged that her fever must have broken while he was away. "Did you give the staff any trouble?" he pushed a stray hair out of her face.
She laughed prettily in response, "It was a slow day. I heard you went shopping."
"I suppose you could call it that. Did you know commoners like to eat melon flavored corn snacks?" he crouched next to her bed and balanced himself with one arm across the edge while the other hand withdrew the small white bag from his pocket.
"I did not," she replied.
"I got you something." He handed her the wadded up plastic, and she accepted it with a look of suspicion. He wasn't much of a gift giver, but he figured that it suited the occasion. She unraveled the bag and turned it over. The little trinket fell onto her lap, and she picked up the little gold string that was attached to the top of the cat's head. "I'm sorry for being a moron."
He didn't look her in the eyes when he apologized, but she knew that he meant it. After all, Kyoya Ootori didn't apologize easily. She smiled graciously, "Thank you. I forgive you."
"I'm glad," he did meet her eyes, then, and she felt a warmth spread across her chest.
"Did you have a good day?"
"It was interesting."
"Tell me about it." So he did, starting with the moment that he woke up alone on the bench surrounded by commoners. The air between them felt clearer than it had in a long time, and as Kyoya retold his day, his mind wandered back to that event at his sister's engagement party.
{OR}
Hanako emerged from around the other corner, dressed in a smart black suit and a crisp white shirt. Her eyes glittered angrily as she regarded the two adults who had been gossiping in the foyer. "That's funny," she interjected firmly. "My parents always said that Kyoya Ootori was the most like his father out of the three sons. If anyone has the backbone and the drive to succeed his father as the patriarch of the Ootori family, it's Kyoya."
She never knew that he was standing right there, and she never found out that he had heard every word she said. It was the moment that he realized Hanako's position as his bodyguard, her decision to serve him, was rooted in a deep sense of respect and admiration for him. There was nobody's endorsement she valued more than her late parents', and he had never known that they thought so highly of him. Until that moment, he hadn't known that she thought so highly of him.
{OR}
Hanako Negida did not think herself unworthy. She didn't think she was expendable, and she didn't pretend to be anything other than what she was capable of being. She was neither commoner nor princess. She wasn't ashamed of her current station, but she knew full well where she belonged. That was why they had the arrangement they did. He would help her get what she wanted, and she would ensure that his path was clear to achieve his goals. However, he had forgotten what he learned that night she defended him. She had deemed him worthy of her loyalty, and because of that, she had awarded him her friendship. A friendship characterized by such deep love that she would choose his well-being before her own. He couldn't ask her to love them less fully than she did, and he knew that it wasn't up to him to decide how she chose to love them.
{OR}
A/N... Thanks for reading! This is the fluffiest chapter I've ever written in my entire life. Fluff and developing themes/conflicts. Let me know what you think in the reviews :)
Special thanks to Einklley, purplekittycatofthemoon, Anone, KuroBad, and BrowneyedDreamr for reviewing the previous chapter! I have the next chapter written and am working on the one after that. I'm not sure if I'll be on track for another update this weekend or not, but if I can write two more chapters by Sunday, I'll post something.
I've got two conversation questions for you guys today. First, what's your favorite chapter so far?Second, what's your sense of Hana as a character? One of the things I try to do with my characters is try to fill some gaps in fandoms where I don't see a lot of examples of a certain type of character. I don't want to spoil too much about Hana, but I want to get an idea of how readers are analyzing her because I have a very clear idea of her in my head. I don't always know how she comes off as to other people. Are observations about her accurate/is a third person narrator always reliable? I love the mechanics of literary devices and challenging them, and narration is such a great way to do that. Does she seem more balanced over time? I personally think that characters should be frustrating. We shouldn't agree with them all the time, and they shouldn't make the right decisions all the time. What's her biggest conflict? General thoughts? Feel free to PM me or share in the reviews :)
Next time: A visit to Lobelia's... Hana's plan to attend Pink Carnation Day doesn't go the way she wanted.