"What are your plans this evening?" Kyoya's question caught Hanako off guard, and she looked up from the crate of dishes that she was moving from the cart sent up by the kitchen facilities thoughtfully. They spent their nights doing the exact same thing. She couldn't comprehend why he felt the need to ask.
"I wouldn't say I have any," she replied before turning her attention back to the many dishes that had to be put away before the end of the day.
"That's good," he said, taking two glasses himself and placing them up in the cabinet, "because I have two tickets to Yūzuru this evening."
"What's the occasion?" she continued to transfer glasses across from him. They were back to their usual, flawless cooperation. As soon as club activities picked up for the term, Hanako and Kyoya were at their best performance. Hana conducted her rounds with quiet grace, and Kyoya entertained with relaxed charisma. The clipboard passed between them, getting more use in few days than it had throughout the summer break.
Kyoya continued to help Hanako with her task, and he handed her another glass when he answered casually, "No occasion. Consider it compensation for ruining your day off. I'm sure you were disappointed with how the Lobelia production turned out."
He hit the nail on the head with that. As entertaining as the whole affair had been, it wasn't exactly the day of culture that she had been looking forward to. With her schedule and the demands of her work, true days off were a scarcity. She looked over one of the crystal glasses at her young employer, "What's the catch?" It was a tempting invitation. Hanako had a fondness for the opera, and it would be nice for them to enjoy a night out without the other hosts. The problem was that the Host Club inserted themselves into everything, and as much as they both enjoyed their friends' company, the two of them were more often tangled up in the club's affairs than not. She half expected Tamaki or Kaoru to fall into the kitchen at that very moment.
"No catch. It's nothing more than a gesture of good faith between partners."
It sounded pleasant enough, and she really didn't have a reason to decline. "If that's the case, you can pick me up at six," she informed him with a blithe little smile that reminded him of the young lady who had once reigned over Ouran Academy's social hub. There were always traces of the noble lineage of Hana's pedigree. The grace with which she moved, the confidence in her gaze, and her commitment to correct etiquette all invoked the image of a lady. But Hanako Negida had been more than just any proper young lady. She commanded a room with natural authority that could rival Tamaki, and before her fall, she was adored by all her peers for it. Even pushing carts back to the kitchens, she held her head high and walked tall with her shoulders pulled back. No task was too small, too insignificant, to hurt her pride. She took on every task with the same amount of poise and attention.
After they completed their club activities for the day, Hana and Kyoya were driven home by Tachibana. They were able to enjoy long stretches of silence together, again. The series of conversations that they had following Karuizawa restored what had been damaged by the trip in the first place. It seemed that more work was required to repair their relationship than they initially thought. Apparently, deception, passive aggression, and avoidance weren't appropriate solutions to discord.
There was something changing at the very foundation of everything they knew. It had been changing for a while, but it was growing, becoming more difficult to ignore. It was impossible to determine what was at the root of the shift or who started it. There was a good chance that it was even the culmination of microfractures that belonged to each of the club members. Regardless of what it was, the Shadow King and the Shadow weren't safe from it, either. Hana and Kyoya were creatures of habit. They could adapt, yes, but they depended on routine to maintain a sense of control. Ambitious workaholics, they both thrived in a productive environment that was managed on their terms. Even with the disruptions of the ever more intrusive Host Club, their routine remained more or less the same. However, the more they resisted the shifting foundations, the more devastating the wreckage would be. There just wasn't any way for either of them to know that.
They set up their usual table in Kyoya's bedroom, hanging up their blue and black jackets and getting to work. Over the past few weeks, they had been tracking the growth of a European group in Japan. Kyoya insisted that they had to work harder to combat something that only he was able to see from the numbers reported. He focused on that, and Hana gave her attention to the upcoming Ouran Fair and the series of themed events queued up for the term. Renge turned out to be a great asset for them. Her marketing skills were unrivaled, and she was prompt in her reports to and requests of Hana. They saw a twenty percent increase in reservations and a similar rise in membership upgrades because of the French girl's hard work. In fact, Hana found that she and Renge worked very well together. Renge took on projects that Hanako would never have the time to commit to. She functioned as an editor for the club's fanzines and a public relations representative, but everything she did always went through Hana for approval. The budget was determined by Hana after communicating with Kaoru and Hikaru. With Halloween right around the corner, Hana decided to review Renge's advertising proposal and finalizing the budget for that endeavor while it was still early.
Kyoy and Hana completed an hour of work before he considered the time and said, "You can stop there for today. The dress code for this evening is black tie."
She finished writing a note about jack-o-lanterns on Renge's proposal and glancing her watch. If she left now, she would have an hour to get ready. "I'm aware," she acknowledged his reminder as she rose to her feet and retrieved her suit jacket from his closet.
Kyoya eyed the black garment critically and added, "In case I wasn't clear, I'm giving you the night off. Please don't wear that ridiculous suit tonight."
All of her suits were designed by Yuzuha, and they were as chic as they were functional. She ignored the criticism and continued to the door, only pausing to look back when she had a hand on the doorknob. She smiled at him with a twinkle in her caramel hued eyes that reminded him too much of the twins, "See you at six." With that, she disappeared down the hall and closed the door behind her.
The past two times that Hana planned on taking a day off, she ended up getting caught up in security and the Host Club. It had been so long since she genuinely had a break that she almost forgot what a quiet evening was supposed to be like. However, that was simply impossible. Hana's expertise in hospitality was entirely learned through practicing skills tied to her birthright. The Matsura name was synonymous with hospitality and tradition. Despite her misgivings, Akina ensured that all of her skills and knowledge were passed on to her daughter. At a young age, Hanako was ready to be the perfect hostess. She mastered social etiquette in Eastern and Western fashions. She could hold a conversation as well as any young lady, execute a party that nobody would forget, and build a perfect guest list. All of those skills that a socialite needed were exactly the ones she fostered in her role with the Host Club. When all was said and done, nobody would be able to say that she lost her touch.
Hana elected to draw a chrysanthemum scented bath before grooming herself. She soaked in the ivory tub and allowed her long dark hair to cascade over the edge, keeping her tresses dry while she bathed. Kyoya would continue working for another half hour, she knew, and he only dismissed her because she would need the extra time to prepare adequately. Hana's soap was a specialty product that she ordered from Korea. The pressed chrysanthemum design and floral scent were unique to her, gifts from the cosmetics company that she modeled for. She worked the soap into a lather and ran her hands over her arms and collar bones. Like the boys, Hana maintained regular waxing appointments. As such, her skin was usually soft to the touch, and the luxurious moisturizer that she received with her soaps protected her from the dry air in colder seasons. She bathed until steam stopped rising from the water, and then, Hana dried herself with a soft, white towel before wrapping her body in a robe.
The young woman walked to her vanity table and sat on the velvet cushion in front of the mirror. Lights bathed her fair skin in a gentle glow, and she considered what makeup to wear. Admittedly, Kaoru was the superior makeup artist, and she wasn't as bold as either of the twins in her choice of makeup. She massaged a creamy moisturizer into the skin on her face and selected a brush to apply a thin layer of foundation across her features. A thin line of black liquid on her upper lids, and feather-light brushes of the wand on her lashes. She finished the natural look with a tinted gloss. Satisfied she left the mirror and took light steps to her closet.
Behind the line of black suits and white shirts hung a collection of expensive garments in an array of colors. Hana favored the appearance and drape of chiffon to other fabrics, and Yuzuha created beautiful pieces with layers of silk that complimented Hanako's figure artfully. She already had a gown in mind for the evening. Pushing aside a glittering number, Hana's fingers found the cushioned hanger and removed her choice from the rack.
The gown was another one of Yuzuha's gifts to her, inspired by and created for Hanako, there wasn't a single one like it in the world. It fit her like a glove, accentuating her flat stomach and the length of her limbs. Modest but not prudish, the strapless gown featured an embroidered sweetheart neckline and pleated bodice with fabric ruched at her hips and falling in waves down her long legs. The gown was embellished with soft ostrich feathers that gave the impression of sleeves falling down her biceps. Satisfied with the garment, she moved to her jewelry box. There was a thick string of crystals waiting for her when she pulled out the bottom drawer. The full set came with a bangle and earrings, but she only wanted the necklace. Drawing her her curtain of hair away from the back of her neck, she fastened the chain and let the gems fall against her perfumed collarbones.
The model glided back across her bedroom floor to the mirror and inspected the complete ensemble. She twisted her hair over her shoulder experimentally and ran her fingers over the impossibly soft silk. It wasn't the most practical outfit. If she had to run, the skirt would tangle around her legs. It wasn't a gown intended for long-term, active wear. It would never allow her to blend in with a crowd or disappear into the shadows. Regardless, Hanako adored how it looked on her. This gown was meant to be seen, and it was a shame how rarely she wore it. At six o'clock, a knock sounded on her door. Hana left the mirror at an even pace. When she opened the entry, Honda composed himself as he would when greeting a guest, "The young master is waiting for you in the salon."
"Thank you. I'll be right down," she turned back into her bedroom and picked out her final accessories. She slipped her feet into delicate, golden pumps and wrapped a cream colored faux mink stole around her shoulders. Hana chose a jeweled clutch that matched her necklace and left her bedroom. Hana looked ethereal when she descended the staircase, and Kyoya's mauve-gray eyes held her with open appreciation and the same attention he would give to the Venus de Milo.
He stood alone in the salon, surrounded by beautiful and expensive things that couldn't compare in worth to the young man standing among them. His usually neat hair was combed and styled back, elevating his debonair facial structure and drawing more attention to his eyes. Kyoya wore his glasses, but he looked more graceful, somehow, wearing them and the handsome onyx tuxedo he chose for the evening.
One corner of his mouth turned up in satisfaction when she joined him. "I half expected you to wear the suit," he admitted offhandedly.
"If that was true," she replied with mirthful light in her eyes, "you would have had something sent to my room."
An amused hum sounded from his throat, and the third son of Yoshio Ootori offered her his arm, "I thought about it, but you've always had impeccable taste. Shall we go?" Hana's hand wrapped around his elbow, and she allowed him to escort her to the front door. The seasons were starting to change at that point in the year, and when they stepped through the open door, cool autumn air filled their lungs. The car was already waiting for them at the driveway, and Tachibana silently opened the door for the pair. "After you," Kyoya bid, stepping aside and offering his hand to balance her.
It was exactly what was expected of a young gentleman, and it was the first second time in years that she entered a car first. Kyoya followed close behind her, and Tachibana shut the car door after the young master of the house settled into the seat beside his companion. The car slowly pulled away from the mansion and rolled along the stretch of driveway to the main street. Neither of the teenaged passengers spoke, and they didn't feel the need to. Kyoya abhored meaningless conversation, and Hanako had no interest in wasting her breath if she didn't have anything to say. However, the silence was neither heavy nor awkard. They simply savored the peaceful silence in comfort and companionship.
It would have been perfect if not for the intrusive doubts disrupting Hana's thoughts. Hanako knew the role of highborn lady well, and the part felt natural to her, like coming home after an unbelievably long day in someone else's shoes. Except those shoes belonged to a young woman with everything to gain and too much to lose. Kyoya obviously put his best foot forward for that night, and that fact did little to soothe her conflicted mind. There was a right time for everything, and strategy dictated that timing a power move properly was everything. This wasn't the move that she wanted to make. The margin for error was too narrow on a night like this, and the likelihood of misunderstanding was high. Rumors started and spread as quickly as wildfires, and she knew exactly what people would say if they saw her with him like this. Maybe the dress was too much. Maybe the string of crystals was too bright. Her hand went to the gems and worked them between her fingers thoughtfully, and she considered that it might not be the best idea to attend.
Kyoya picked up on her whirlwind of thoughts quickly, far too attuned to his companion to not notice. She stared out of window blankly, watching the lights pass as they entered the entertainment district of the city. Her face was as still as stone, but he knew that her too good sense was working her sensibilities into a downward spiral.
"You're overthinking," he commented perceptively. Hana turned her head to face him in the low light, and the hand at her collar fell into her lap as she looked at him. "After the fiasco that took place at Lobelia, I owe you a proper evening."
"If that's the case…" Hana trailed off and considered all the stops that the Shadow King pulled out. Sending Honda as a courier to her door, greeting her personally in the salon, having the car ready out front, and showing her a great deal of consideration were all things that would have been expected of him if he entertained a young lady. "This is starting to feel like a date, but we both know how highly inappropriate that would be," a thread of humor laced through her words.
They joked about the rumors when they were alone, commenting with notes of sarcasm and amusement, but in the depths of their hearts, they knew how serious that kind of talk could be. Words were dangerous things, especially in their circles. A wrong word here or there could be a landmine, and every conversation was a battlefield. The members of the Host Club had mastered this art of battle in their own unique ways. Deception, silence, and innocence were the defining strategies of most club members. It was only in the sanctity of their solidarity that they were able to shed their armor and truly enjoy simple talks.
"Don't read into it too much," Kyoya answered in the lightest of tones, "it's nothing of the sort." A small, knowing smile graced Hana's lips, and Kyoya let his gaze travel over her. He never bothered to watch the photoshoots she did with the twins, and he never cared to see the finished products. They were all beautiful, that was a given. However, even Kyoya wasn't so desensitized to Hanako's allure. She was the very picture of Japanese beauty. Delicate as the cherry blossoms in spring, and as unyielding as the Japanese Alps. Part of her appeal, like theirs, was her understanding of her own beauty. She knew exactly how to wear her hair to show off her long neck, how to line her feline eyes in black ink so that the gold flecks in her irises shined in the light, and how to compliment her skin tone with rich and muted hues.
After a moment, he added, "Nonetheless, you look stunning."
"Thank you."
{OR}
The car arrived at a beautiful, golden auditorium with creamy marble steps leading to a line of glass doors. It was one of those places where different tiers of society – the ones who could afford it – scould mingle freely, brought together by a love of the arts. Tachibana stopped in a spot close to the doors, and the alpha squad's deputy commander came around to open the door. Kyoya emerged from the black limousine first, and he extended his hand to Hanako. The young woman placed her hand in his and effortlessly came to her feet. Kyoya dismissed their driver, and the two made their way to the gilded arena.
In the swarm, there were faces that they both recognized from school and by reputation. It was only a matter of time before they picked out Kyoya Ootori from the rest of the crowd. The first to approach were their schoolmates. Azusa Suwaki was one of Kyoya's regulars, and she brought a small group of young and women with her.
"Kyoya, Negida," Azusa greeted them cheerfully. "It's good to see you. I didn't know you were coming tonight." She was polite, not painfuly so, just as much as she needed to be. It was customary to mingle at these things, and who made better company than Kyoya Ootori?
"The pleasure is all mine," Kyoya returned with his most charming smile. "I'm afraid that's my fault. You see, I made the mistake of waiting until the last minute to finalize my plans this evening. I'm afraid we haven't all met. I'm Kyoya Ootori, and my companion this evening is Hanako Negida."
The others in Azusa's cluster were not students at Ouran Academy, but Hanako and Kyoya could name most of them solely from their knowledge of the families associated with Azusa's. Azusa semed the most comfortable in their presence compared to the rest of her cohorts. The others were awed and tentative as they made Kyoya Ootori's acquaintance. Hanako felt the familiar prickle of attention on her skin and counted the pairs of eyes that flickered to her with skepticism. Nobody questioned Kyoya Ootori's presence, but they weren't certain what to make of the girl standing beside him. Rumors didn't just circulate through the halls of Ouran Academy. They spread and spread until they reached every ear that would listen.
For their parts, neither Hanako nor Kyoya were fazed by the attention. They spent years steeling themselves against intrusive ears and probing glances, and their armor was better than most. Azusa introduced her friends and cousins one by one until Kyoya had learned all of their names. After that, they grew more bold in their efforts to speak with the mild-mannered young gentleman.
"How was your summer, Ootori?"
"I spent a good portion of it working on personal projects, so I wouldn't say it was too exciting. Although, I took a few days in Karuizawa with some friends from school."
"Karuizawa?" One of Azusa's cousins questioned pleasantly, "I adore Karuizawa."
"Did you go with the Host Club?" Azusa asked.
"I did. It was a very interesting trip," Kyoya answered with a smile. The Shadow King had a knack for answering questions without giving anything away, and nobody ever challenged him. He was pulled into a conversation with Azusa's friends about the summer and his hobbies, which shifted to his opinion on the current state of East Asian commerce. In any other setting, Hanako would have melted into the shadows, but this evening, some of the attention on Kyoya slid to her, solely due to the fact that she was his companion.
"That's a beautiful dress, Negida," one of Azusa's friends praised, the daughter of a distribution magnate.
"Thank you," Hanako addressed the girl in a clear voice and with a smile. "It's a favorite of mine."
"Do you have any idea when Hitachiin Fashions will release their spring collection? I'm dying to see the next show."
"I wish I knew, but I hear Hitachiin-sama has been particularly hard at work in the studio," Hana divulged very little as she was swept into a conversation with girls from schools that were similar to Ouran in structure but not quite on par in terms of prestiege.
She knew that all of their interactions were dominated by the rule of ambition. Superficial conversation only took place as a reason to get closer to Kyoya, who stood at the very pinnacle of the hierarchy. She was a rung on the ladder for them, and engaging her was just another way to reach him. Despite the frivolity, Hanako found herself quite at ease on the battlefield beside him. She took it all in stride, knowing that most of these strangers and acquaintances would turn conversation to fuel for gossip once the morning came. Hanako and Kyoya danced around probing questions, exchanged their partners, and bowed out gracefully once the opportunity arose.
Kyoya never broke character, and Hanako commended him for his commitment to his role. Nobody could tell how the tedious interactions grated on his nerves. Hanako interjected after a few young men chorused in laughter at something Kyoya said. "Ootori-san," her voice sounded with a quiet confidence, "I'm afraid I've chosen a new pair of shoes, and it might be best to sit. My apologies, gentlemen."
"Of course," Kyoya turned his breezy smile on her before acknowledging the small crowd gathered around him. "Please excuse us. It was a pleasure to meet all of you." Kyoya started in the direction of the elevator, and Hanako followed on his heels, only falling into step beside him when they had cleared the minefield. The golden doors opened for them, and when they were alone, Kyoya flashed a knowing smirk at the young woman who knew exactly when he needed her.
He offered his arm to her again when the doors re-opened, and her fingers wrapped around his elbow. The box that Kyoya reserved was the one that his family always favored, and a full spread of refreshments awaited them in the alcove. So much of their early evening had been wasted on dry smalltalk and meaningless introductions that the lights dimmed as soon as they settled into their seats.
The curtain rose on a secluded mountain village set centuries ago in the unforgiving winter. A story about greed and love unfolded before them. The tale spun threads of magic and reality together to create a tragedy too human to deride. The soprano who brought Tsū to life was a graduate from Lobelia's, and the men on the stage were acclaimed alumni of Lobelia's brother school. The mystical crane's escape into the powder-white snow marked the end of the play, and the curtain fell on the remorseful husband's fallen frame as he fisted the sacrificial textile and gazed after the wife he lost.
Hanako applauded with the rest, offering a standing ovation to the performers and musicians. As the lights turned back on, and the audience began to pour out of the theater, Kyoya and Hanako retrieved their coats at the door. They were reeled into more conversation with peers and adults who recognized Kyoya in passing, and they made their exit when Tachibana arrived with the car.
"What a depressing plot," Kyoya sighed, leaning into the leather seats.
"You're the one who chose the show," Hanako pointed out. "Ironic how so many members of the audience tonight fall to such similar vices, don't you think?" Not that they were above the same greed and ambition that Yohyō succumbed to or the sacrifice and devotion that led to Tsū's undoing.
"That is the nature of our station," he mused. "Although, I believe part of the show's appeal is that its moral transcends class. I can't help but wonder what Tamaki would have to say if he could sit still long enough to enjoy the show."
"Despite his childishness, he does have a profound appreciation for music," Hana reminded him. It was, surprisingly, something they hadn't done together, yet. After all that running around trying to appease Tamaki's xenophilia over the course of their friendship, they had never been to the theater together. How odd. "He would've hated this one. He's the type of person who would have convinced the husband to make some ridiculous grand gesture to win back his wife."
A soft look of amusement colored Kyoya's features, and he considered the optimistic blond who stormed into their lives in a whirlwind of French and flowers. "He would find a way to pick out that single bird in a flock of hundreds."
Two years ago, they were strangers. She and Kyoya were two untethered souls drifting in the current of ambition. Neither of them could have cared less about the other. Their arrangement was just a means to their own ends. Then, they met Tamaki. Princely in looks and manner, he rode in on a white horse and built their kingdom brick by brick and anchored them to its foundation and to each other. The nature of Hanako and Kyoya's dynamic changed drastically under Tamaki's influence.
Hanako knew of Kyoya her entire life. Handsome, intelligent, and social, she thought he was the same as all the others swimming in the safety of their fishbowl. The opportunity to know him did not arise until Tamaki came into his life. For the first time, Hanako saw a different Kyoya, and she knew that she wasn't the only one for whom the safety bubble popped. He was far more than his looks, his brilliant mind, and his ease in the spotlight. Tamaki brought out a side of Kyoya that could topple empires. Drive, innovation, and gall were hidden merits that defined the Shadow King. There was nothing that he would not do to make the ends of the world meet for his Host Club. He would never admit it nor would he ever show it outright, but it was an undisputable fact. Of all his endeavors, it was the only one that he took pride in. For the first time in his life, Kyoya Ootori had something that was his by no virtue of his father's. Tamaki's radiance had cast a light on a path outside of the shadows Kyoya walked in.
Kyoya wasn't the only one whose defenses Tamaki conquered. Hanako had never been a fan of the white knight allegory, and she despised the princess in distress. Hers was not a Cinderella story. She was Helen, and the world around her was riddled with the quiet tides of battles to come. The ancient Greek beauty for whom war was waged by men who loved her or desired her far too much for their own goods. Torn between Menelaus and Paris and remembered for her beauty, stories had not been kind to Helen who was a demi-goddess and torch bearer in her own right. Princess of Sparta where women stood on equal ground with men. She would have wrestled with her brothers and ridden into battle fully armed, but she was remembered for her beauty.
Chevalier, Hanako learned, was a French title designated to chivalrous and valiant knights. Maybe it was because he had not known her for as long as the others did that Tamaki could gaze upon her with fresh eyes. He had never known her as the princess. He had seen past her appearance and found the fire burning in her eyes, and he assured her that she would not be Helen of Troy. She would not be reduced to her face or body. She would not be queen by marriage alone. She would not be an object for men to squabble over. She was the Helen of Sparta who hatched from the same egg as her brothers and ascended to Olympus after she fell Troy. Tamaki recognized that difference, and he was the first who had seen her as the knight and changed her understanding of the allegory.
{OR}
"What's this?" Hanako questioned as the car pulled up to a tower that stretched into the night sky. Hanako did not like surprises, and until that point, her understanding was that the opera made up the entirety of their night. Tachibana came around for the door, again, and Kyoya flashed her a smirk.
"I made dinner reservations. You didn't think I'd make you sit through that and not bring you to a decent restaurant, did you?" Of course he arranged a complete night. She should have seen that one coming. She gave him her hand as they left the car, and her gaze swept over their surroundings. She felt strangely at ease in the role that she was given for the night. Her muscles relaxed and her attention chose a different kind of threat than the one she usually watched for. Perhaps, it was the faint scent of spearmint that had been constant throughout the evening.
Hanako and Kyoya took an elevator to the rooftop restaurant where the city looked like a blanket of stars below them. She couldn't tell which lights came from houses and which came from cars. It felt like they were up in the heavens lookig down on earth. A hostess greeted them, blushing as she set her eyes on Kyoya's handsome face.
"Reservation for Kyoya Ootori," he drawled lazily. Ears nearby perked at the name, and before the woman could show them to their table, a voice boomed zealously, and Hanako and Kyoya looked up.
The man who approached them had a rotund belly and wore a blue suit. He must have been the same age as Yoshio or close to it. The woman on his arm appeared far younger, and she wore a deep red dress that accentuated her curves. Unlike the man whose eyes brightened on Kyoya, like a dragon who had found treasure for its horde, the woman only looked more bored. "Kyoya Ootori! How good to see you, son."
"Sato-san," Kyoya greeted with the plain smile that could not offend anyone who came upon it. The man sucked Kyoya into a chat about his father and brothers, a check in that mattered little when the man's name and company could barely get his children into the C class at Ouran.
"Tell your father I said hello," Sato entreated the young man, finally realizing how he was losing his mistress's interest.
"Of course, Sato-san, have a good evening," Kyoya bade farewell to the man with a lie so smooth that the insincerity went undetected by most. The hostess led them to a table next to the floor to ceiling windows. The friendliness on Kyoya's face melted away into his resting frown and cold slate eyes, and the hostess assured them that their server would be there soon. "I wonder if Sato-san's wife knows that he's found another mistress."
"It's none of our business. I'm surprised your father's acquainted with him."
"Oh, I doubt he has any clue who the man is," Kyoya acknowledged, perusing the set menu. "I'm in the mood for fish. What do you…"
"Kyoya Ootori, is that you?" an exclamation sounded nearby, cutting off the question he posed to Hanako. A woman who could have been Yuzuha's twin approached them. She wore an ostentatious gown and heavy makeup that seemed a gross mockery of Yuzuha's artful application. While impressive, the woman's dyed, cropped hair couldn't quite match the designer's natural color or texture.
The smile came back onto Kyoya's face, more slowly than before. It seemed heavier each time he put it on, but Hanako's sharp eyes were the only ones that caught it. "It is. How lovely to see you," Kyoya indulged the woman in a brief conversation. The server came and went, and Hanako ordered the fish and the poultry while Kyoya played along with the woman who was all too eager to make his acquaintance.
"That was Ito-san's wife, correct?" Hanako asked, lifting a glass of fresh spring water to her lips. She had seen the woman before at Ootori Group events, accompanying her husband who was an associate of Kyoya's father.
"Apparently she's here with a group of other housewives," Kyoya replied. He knew that unwarranted conversation was a consequence of going out, but he had at least hoped that he would be able to enjoy his meal in peace. They should have all known how rude it was to interrupt someone's evening, but that wasn't the case.
The server brought out their first course, and Hanako picked the cucumbers out of her salad, passing them to Kyoya's plate because she couldn't stand the crunch and knew he found them refreshing. They only started their meal when they were recognized for a third time.
"Kyoya, hello," a deep voice sounded beside them. Kyoya patted his mouth with the napkin and put on his smile. This man was an associate of his father's, a client whose relationship with the Ootori Group was quite strong. The man's wife smiled and fawned over Yoshio's son while her husband brought up some simple business talk.
The tension on Kyoya's face was barely perceptible, and nobody ever saw it with the disarming quality of the smile. Hanako knew that Kyoya carried his tension in his temples and along his jaw, and when she looked, she could see a tick forming by his hairline. When the Yamamotos left their table, Kyoya's smile slid off his face, but the tension lingered in his muscles. "Tired?" Hana asked simply as he returned to their first course.
"No," he lied effortlessly. "I'm having a perfectly good time."
She raised a delicate brow, "You can't fool me." The server came back to take their plates, and the next course was brought out to them. "Can we get the check, please?"
"O-of course," the server's worried eyes flickered between the handsome couple. The young man at the table already had his wallet out at the lady's behest. Their unreadable expressions fed his apprehension, and he asked, "Is the meal not to your liking?"
"It's lovely. We'll take everything to go," the raven haired girl answered kindly, and her partner handed the anxious server a card. Resigned to the young lady's wishes, Kyoya hadn't even looked to see how much the meal cost. Confused but not argumentative, the server took the card and the plates away from the table. When the waiter returned, he placed the brown paper bag on the table, and Kyoya took the card back. Hanako rose to her feet and picked up the bag, striding towards the elevator accompanied by a very acquiescent Kyoya.
Hanako sent Tachibana a text in the elevator, and Kyoya couldn't help but notice the small black cat dangling from the device as she typed. When the doors opened, she and Kyoya continued through the lobby, passing through another pair of doors into the significantly colder autumn night. The car had not arrived yet, and the pair stood next to an ivory column if for no other reason than finding some semblance of privacy. "You could have said something sooner," Hanako informed him. He turned his gaze to the girl who regarded him with familiarity. Honest caramel irises seemed to laugh at him for his conviction, his insistence to sit through such discomfort when it wasn't in his nature to accommodate so many useless people.
"I was trying to be a gentleman. The whole point of this was to make up for what happened the other day, and I didn't want to spoil another evening for you."
"A quiet evening is a good evening." She took no offense to his displeasure. As enjoyable as it had been for her, Hanako saw no reason to force either of them to see his plan through to the end if it wasn't turning out to be everything he wanted. Besides, she had only wanted to see the opera, and she didn't care for the added company of strangers vying for Kyoya's attention.
His gaze softened, and a heavy sigh left him as he relaxed, massaging the tension out from the bridge of his nose. "I'm exhausted," he admitted openly, fully aware that only she could hear him, "The last thing I need at the end of the day is useless prattle that'll only be more of a headache in the morning."
"That's nothing new."
He hummed in agreement, "You're right, but it's my night off."
A laugh escaped her, sweet and charming to his ears. Her eyes glittered as brightly as the jewels around her neck, "That's how I feel all the time."
{OR}
They returned to the house and parted ways, retiring to their own bedrooms. Hanako pulled the invisible zipper down her side, and the chiffon fell to the ground at her feet in a pool of peach colored silk. She stepped out of the dress and picked it up, prudently hanging it back in the closet. Moving to her chest of drawers, she took off her jewely and decided not to bother with her makeup. She chose a pair of daffodil yellow palazzo pants with a gray V-necked shirt to wear. Dressed more comfortably, she made her way back to Kyoya's room with a thick folder full of printed files that Honda left on her desk.
"Come in," Kyoya answered when she knocked on the door.
Hana let herself into his room and saw that he had also dressed down from his formal attire. He abandoned his jacket and button down. His hair, although fairly stiff, had been freed from the neatly combed style and fell across his forehead, and he was left wearing a white undershirt and his slacks. She went straight to their workspace and dropped the heavy folder onto the table. "We shouldn't fall behind just because it's our night off. These are the files you requested from Houshakuji-san."
She settled into her usual place around Kyoya's coffee table and started to spread the papers across the surface in distinct stacks. He joined her without complaint, and they picked up exactly where they left off earlier that evening. Kyoya's attention drifted up from the page he started on. She immersed herself in the task at hand, blocking out the ticking clock on the wall and the lights flashing on her phone as messages came in. He found it strange how her focus only enhanced her loveliness, and he wondered if it was a phenomenon unique to her or common for all beautiful women.
"Did you have a good evening?" he asked with complete nonchalance. He opened his laptop and started typing, and she reached across the table for the clipboard with all of Renge's advertising templates.
"I did," Hanako answered simply before turning the printed pages over to him. "Which of these do you think we should go with?"
{OR}
A/N... It's not a date, but don't you wish it was? Thank you for reading! I'm thinking about putting together a playlist to accompany the story when I finish writing it.
Special thanks to purplekittycatofthemoon for reviewing the previous two chapters!
Where do you see Mori taking Hana on a date?
Next time... A window. Hanako always saw the Hitachiins, but she never played their game.