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A patch of ceiling tile was left unpainted. Kyouya stared at the grey patch for an eternity before he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. How much longer could they keep him?

He knew he wasn't in custody, as the arresting officer—Enokido—had taken his cuffs off. They kept him in a locked room with no explanation. Just a strained promise that he was going to "speak to his superior".

He'd been stupid not to expect that Cho's place would still be under wraps with the police, and that bothered him. He'd been stupid. It was as if all his loose thoughts slid through his mind before disappearing into nothing. He couldn't hold on to any of it.

It must be stress. It had to be.

He was losing it, but he couldn't let anyone else know.

The door handle rattled. Kyouya straightened up and put his glasses back on, arms crossed.

"Right, Mr Ootori—"

"How much longer am I expected to be kept waiting? I can't say I'm all too surprised with the state of things here," cut in Kyouya. "As I said before, I can't help the investigation if I'm being treated as a suspect myself. And we'd already cleared that up, haven't we Officer?"

Enokido held his breath, grey moustache bristling once more. He swung the door open wider and stepped out of the way, allowing another uniformed man to enter the room.

"I meant to say, Mr Ootori, that my boss would like to speak to you." He closed the door and stood with arms behind his back, staring straight ahead. "Captain."

The short police Captain took off his hat and placed it on the table before pulling up a chair.

"This isn't exactly how I thought we'd see each other again."

Kyouya narrowed his eyes, shifting his body to face the Captain. "I don't see what—"

A glint of light gleamed across the name badge. Haninozuka.

Kyouya smirked. "But of course, how could I forget? I'd heard of your promotion a year ago. Youngest Captain in decades." His tone barely lifted. This wasn't a reunion. "Congratulations."

Captain Haninozuka turned to his junior officer. "You can leave us for now."

"But sir—"

"Now."

Enokido nodded and left swiftly, a grumble barely audible underneath his breath.

Kyouya's eyes floated to the unpainted ceiling patch.

Hani clasped his hands on the table. His soft blonde hair was tied in a small ponytail, a little stubble on his usually baby-smooth chin. He had been the oxymoron of the Host Club, the senior with childish charms, the sunniest of dispositions alongside Tamaki. All that had faded into a tired man.

"What are you doing here, Kyouya?"

"What, no warmer conversation? I haven't even been offered a coffee yet."

Hani's posture was straight, his expression impassive. If Kyouya didn't know any better, he'd think his elusive cousin, Mori, was hidden behind the sombre eyes.

"You were found outside your wife's apartment, demanding to be let in. You assaulted one of my officers. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were hiding something."

"Aren't we all?" said Kyouya. "Like you, Captain. What happened to the sweet little boy from Ouran?"

Hani's jaw tensed for a moment before a small smile melted it away.

"I see, if anything, you've turned into a far more sour version of who you used to be," said the Captain.

"If, by sour, you mean visibly distraught given that my wife was murdered and neither you nor your incompetent organisation can figure out who did this, then yes, Captain. I am sour." Kyouya straightened his shirt and got up to leave. "Good day, Captain."

He reached the door before realising Hani had not stopped him. Was he letting him go?

What's wrong with you? Just leave.

But shouldn't he be questioning me…

Your innocence was already proven at the trial.

His hand gripped the door handle, clammy and shaking. Heat rose from within, spreading down his back in a cold sweat.

A hand pressed gently on his shoulder before Kyouya flinched. Hani patted his shoulder, still a few inches shorter, and prised his old friend's hand away from the door.

"Let's go get that coffee then, shall we?"

They had walked around the station before trailing off into narrower roads in the city. Charming boutique shops lined the streets and people went about their business on a quiet yet warm afternoon.

"It was pretty much first year of engineering when I knew it wasn't for me," said Hani. He took a sip from his blue coffee cup stamped with the police insignia. Kyouya had discarded his long ago. "Then again, I still didn't know what to do."

"But the police? A little bit of a departure from your previous… façade."

Hani smiled, genuine and warm. "Yes, it was a façade wasn't it? I believe we were all putting on airs like that." Hani didn't mention having seen his face, pale and sweaty, back at the station. And Kyouya, for all his bitterness, was grateful.

"At first I didn't like it either, but I don't think anyone does when they're in the junior ranks of any profession. But I told myself I'd stick to it, at least for a year, and then that year turned into two. Then three. And now—well, here we are." They came across a park with a row of blooming, fresh roses. Hani sat on the bench with a relief and stretched his short legs on the gravel. "I've seen some pretty grim stuff, Kyouya. Believe me when I say it's nice to see a friend—though I have been following your story."

Kyouya sat next to him and folded his arms with his shoulders hunched, though it wasn't cold. In fact, the heat of the afternoon sun seemed to burn inside him—his shirt was stuck to his back in a slick layer of sweat.

He felt like caving in on himself, as he had been for years, and it was beginning to crack his exterior. Somehow, with Hani, he didn't seem to stop himself.

"It just happened so fast…" he muttered, staring at a pigeon. It pecked on a half-chewed piece of chocolate on the ground.

"I am sorry," said Hani. "Truly."

Perhaps it was in seeing an old friend, so far removed from the pain and hurt of recent events, which made Kyouya's heart splinter.

He turned towards Hani. "I pushed her away so far that she fell over the edge and never… never returned." His voice cracked on the last words, their conversation deepening into a heavy silence. Hani said nothing. Once again, Kyouya was grateful.

The world shifted out of balance, ever so slightly, before pulling back again. He took a deep breath and rose from the bench.

"I should go. I need to…" Thoughts wavered again, lost for words. "See my daughter."

Hani got up and tossed his cup in the trash receptacle. "Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

Kyouya shook his head. "It'll have to wait, I need to—"

"You don't understand. We have reason to believe your life may be in danger."

Back in the Captain's office, Kyouya fidgeted in his seat. He could barely keep his mind focussed on one thing, chattering through thought after thought after thought, not stopping for breath, but he shouldn't be here, in this station, he needed to go find, find someone, to set things straight—

"Another drink?" said Hani, setting two cups of coffee on his desk. Kyouya stared at the blue cups with black insignia, the patterns swirling in and out of focus.

"Rewind," said Kyouya, though his mouth was dry. "Go back a few more steps. Someone is trying to kill me?"

"Kill, perhaps, or injure at the very least." Hani leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head.

"Sure, sure. At the very least. How do you know?"

"It was the break in at Haruhi's apartment that struck me the most—"

"Haruhi? How did you know about that? Did she say something? Are you in contact with her? What did she say?" The heat crept up his neck and prickled beneath his skin.

Hani's brow wrinkled. "Are you okay?" he asked slowly. In those curious brown eyes, Kyouya thought he was back at Ouran, his childish senpai concerned about his wellbeing.

"Yes, of course, absolutely, now tell me about Haruhi, what did she tell you, when did you speak to her—hey, I was about to drink that!"

Hani had leant forward and grabbed the coffee cup out of his hands.

"You don't look well," said Hani as he came round the desk. He pulled down Kyouya's lower eyelid, cool fingers on sweaty skin. "We need to take you to a hospital."

"Suddenly you're a doctor now?" Kyouya jerked away from him, slapping his hand away.

"No, but I know what it looks like when someone's been drugged."

Kyouya rose from his chair and shook his head. "I'm fine."

But he knew he wasn't.

He hadn't been all day, and it took one more step towards the door before he plummeted down to the floor for him to realise. Before he blacked out Kyouya saw Hani kneeling on the floor beside him, a keychain dangling on his waist, the image of Usa-chan the bunny smiling scathingly at him.

The black was overwhelming. Nothing could penetrate the dark walls, the absolute void. Shapeless shadows. He sat at the bottom of the well, all alone. And the pressure suffocated him, making sure he stayed down.

Though familiar, it hurt every time it returned. And he didn't know why. The weight of an invisible chaos kept him at the bottom of the well. He had stayed in that well for years uncountable.

But there, in the depths of his misery, were some slivers of light. A whispering of hope. A blonde boy sat with him, pearly-white smiles and rosy cheeks, offering his own heart to share. Somehow, the well wasn't as lonely.

Then the boy disappeared, dissolving into the black much too soon. And so he sat once again, all by himself, counting the uncountable.

Until a little girl came along with hair as dark as his, grabbing his hand with her own pudgy fingers. She pulled him to get up, to get out of the well, but he couldn't. The pressure was too much. So she climbed on top of his shoulders, messing his hair, taking his glasses, and sang a lullaby to herself.

And there, in the depths of his misery, he knew he wasn't alone.

When Kyouya's eyes fluttered open, all he saw was white. It took a few moments for the hospital room to vaguely materialise around him before he reached instinctively for his glasses. His entire body ached to move. The room started to spin.

"Looking for these?" said a gruff voice. A shadow fell upon Kyouya, a hand outstretched close to his face with his spectacles.

"I won't point out the irony of those words." Once he put them on he saw Enokido stand over his bedside, not a shred of concern on his square face. "How long have I been out?"

"Couple days." The officer took a seat next to him, pulling his phone out. "You had a few visitors too."

Kyouya's weak limbs tensed. "Who?"

"Some lawyer and her kid."

Before he had time to think—and thinking was still painful—the door opened. Captain Haninozuka walked in, nodding at Enokido, who frowned.

"With all due respect, sir, I've been here since morning—"

"I will debrief you when I've finished speaking with Mr Ootori," said the short Captain.

The officer left, grumbling once more under his breath.

Kyouya smirked. "I think he has issues with taking orders from someone so young."

Hani shrugged. He made his way to the bedside and took off his hat. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Kyouya paused as he tried to sit up. Whatever drug he had been poisoned with had stolen all the strength from his muscles. "What was I drugged with?"

"They're still isolating the compound, but I'd place a bet on narcotics. Do you know anyone who could do this to you?" Hani scratched his chin, wide eyes looking down at his friend.

Several people came to mind, related to business, but he wouldn't think anyone could go so far as to poison the Ootori heir. It didn't seem to fit. None of this did.

"Don't worry if you can't, you're still in recovery."

"But you knew someone was trying to kill me, didn't you?" Kyouya could feel the cold sweats come again, though this time he knew it wasn't drug-induced.

Hani nodded. "When Haruhi's apartment was broken into, I was baffled. Small-time crooks wouldn't break into a fifth floor apartment with such force and take nothing. It was to induce fear, but for what? She only practices in family law. Nothing high profile."

"Except…" His stomach lurched. Him.

"Her only association with you is through your daughter. And from our preliminary investigation into the attack on your wife, that may have been another fear-inducing attack gone wrong.

"It's possible someone is trying to track you, and has missed the mark a few times, leaving collateral damage. Where were you the morning before you were arrested?"

His temples throbbed. This was getting real. The things you would read on the news or watch in movies—it was happening now. Someone was trying to kill Kyouya Ootori.

"At my place. I had breakfast, cleaned up a little, not much. Then went straight to Cho's."

Hani put his hat back on, adjusting it a little in the mirror above the sink next to the bed. "We'll have to do a clean sweep of the Ootori residence then—"

"No no," said Kyouya. "I've had my own place for a while. I've been in this particular address for a month, since the trial proceedings began."

The Captain's eyes narrowed. "And that's been your sole residence?"

Kyouya shrugged. "I guess."

"You haven't stayed anywhere else?"

"Not really, except—" Kyouya's cheeks grew hot.

"Except?"

"Well, as Haruhi was taking care of my daughter, I took it upon myself to keep an eye on her."

Hani grinned, a faded memory of his innocent smiles. "Of course, of course."

"I don't have to justify myself to you," said Kyouya, pulling the covers over his chin.

"I'm not judging," said Hani. "She was here yesterday, with your daughter. I have to say, it's a little surreal to have the Ouran gang mixed up in all this."

"Surreal for us all." Suddenly, the hospital no longer felt safe for Kyouya. Nowhere did. "But this means someone's tracking my movements?"

"We'll have to find you temporary accommodation." Hani stood by the door, nodding at Kyouya. "Just rest for now. We'll keep an officer stationed with you at all times."

"Just make sure it's not that Enokido," called out Kyouya hoarsely as the door shut. "I'd bet he's the killer at any rate."