Kyoya was beginning to feel distracted as the hosts began to depart. Haruhi had cleared away the last of the fine china and was currently studying, which surprised him somewhat. She always went home after hosting and, per Ranka's rule, relaxed before working. So why was she suddenly working in the music room?
Yes, he was distracted. As he worked on the Host Club finances for the day, small details caught his attention. He would be writing in his notebook and suddenly notice how his pen made dark lines on the otherwise clean sheet with a scratching sound that seemed to get louder and louder with each stroke. Or he would pause to figure a calculation in his head, but suddenly realize that the clock hanging on the wall behind him was ticking so loudly and clearly. Every second brought him closer to the inevitable meeting with his father that evening. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. How had he not noticed how loud the clock was before? Now it seemed impossible to ignore.
As he sat in his armchair, legs crossed and staring down at his work, Kyoya could feel reality beginning to close in on him. The tea sets and snacks were put away at the end of the Host Club each day, and Kyoya's peace of mind went with them as he was again forced to face the reality outside the club room walls. In the Host Club, he was hard working and happy. But out there, at home, he was the third son. Out of place. Worthless.
You are an embarrassment! All you do is cause problems and bring shame to this family!
Kyoya sighed, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. Don't be bitter like you were in middle school. You are brilliant. You are capable. You will find success outside of the Ootori Group. You might become the CEO of Hayoto Hitachiin's software company.
"Kyoya, you okay?" Haruhi asked, face lined with worry. "You look sad and anxious." I wish I had my glasses.
He would normally brush a statement like this aside and say that he was fine, but it was Haruhi. It would be more convenient to tell her the truth as she always wheedled it out of him anyway. "I have a meeting with my father today. I plan on telling him that I was done with the Ootori Group then instead of later." He sighed before closing his eyes.
He could feel Haruhi's gaze bore through him. "Wow. So soon? I thought you would wait a while more." What must be done must be done. She paused, as if realizing something lying unsaid. "Thank you for saying what you did to Hikaru."
"I think I should be the one thanking you. You really defended me then." He said this nonchalantly enough, but he was secretly relieved that she decided to change the subject. It was intentional, he knew, and he appreciated it.
"It's all true, though, if you think about it. You are always left in the shadows. I can't keep count of how many times you and your feelings were forgotten. Still, you don't ever seem to care."
"The Host Club forgot about me when they infiltrated Lobelia, when they dragged me to the Izumi Shopping Center at an ungodly hour in the morning, and when the hosts were dancing with you during the Ouran Fair's closing ceremony. There are some other times, but those are the most noteworthy. So, yes, they do have a penchant for forgetting me." He then added, for humorous effect, "Of course, I really don't mind, but even Mori-senpai was always accounted for during our shenanigans."
Haruhi gave a little laugh. "Oh yeah, I did almost forget to dance with you, huh? But then you gave me back to Tamaki."
"And after the dance, you still did not know that you loved Tamaki. It was entertaining." Kyoya smirked. "Little did I know that you would fall for me as well."
"That's the Kyoya I know," Haruhi deadpanned. "Hey, wait a minute. You never did end up telling me about the painting in your room. Why did you thank me when I said it was lovely?"
He feigned indifference. "Oh, I painted that." In actuality, he was rather fond of the painting and what it represented to him.
Haruhi deflated. "You painted that? You are insanely smart, cunning, rich, decent at athletics, can sing, and now you are good at art? Why don't you tell people that you are good at singing and art?"
"I think you give me too much credit," he replied with a sly smile, echoing her statement from the previous day. "As for why I don't advertise all my talents, it's because my father would have found out and then I would have to perfect them." He sighed.
"You are right. All your skills hardly matter when you have a family like yours." He inhaled sharply at her statement. Could you please be more blunt? I don't think you got the point across.
Quickly he finished recording the day's figures and closed his book, returning it to his school bag before standing. Noticing that Haruhi was also packing up, he asked her if she wanted a ride home. "I actually have to get going. Would you like a ride back to your apartment?"
"Oh, thank you. I finished the assignment that I wanted to quickly work on before heading home, so why not?" No, she just wanted to talk to me and make sure everything was fine. She's too kind for her own good.
When his family Mercades finally pulled up to the Ootori mansion, he found Fuyumi waiting for him once again. She did not make any note of his lack of glasses, instead hurriedly coaxing him inside. "There you are! Father has been asking for you!"
His breath caught in his throat. He was not supposed to meet with his father until later in the evening. Why? "Did Father tell you why he wanted to talk with me?"
Fuyumi shook her head. "Sorry, Kyoya. He did not say anything else. He just told me to come over and tell you that he had something to talk to you about."
"All right. I'll head to his office right now, then." Fuyumi looked sad, but then immediately turned cheerful.
"I know! Afterwards we can head to one of the commoner restaurants on the map Tamaki and I came up with." She pulled out the familiar, aforementioned map with a goofy smile on her face.
"I'd rather not," Kyoya deadpanned before walking away. Secretly, though, he was grateful that Fuyumi cared about him enough to want to cheer him up after he talked with his father.
He gulped once, twice, before opening the double doors to his father's study. The infamous glint of a pair of glasses behind the desk made him gulp again.
"Hello, Father," he greeted in a voice that, as usual, sounded too calm for the thumping in his chest.
"Kyoya, you finished the report on the deal?" Already getting down to business.
"Yes, I emailed it to you last night, I believe. I think we initially planned to go over it this evening, not right after I came back home." There was the near-imperceptible hint of amusement and...anger?...on his father's face. That was not a good sign. His father rarely got angry at Kyoya — settling for disappointment or light praise if Kyoya did something exceptional — but it was never pretty when he did. This meeting is not about my report, is it?
"I understand your confusion, but there was something pressing that I wanted to discuss with you first." He pulled out a slightly crumpled letter and showed it to Kyoya. "Care to explain?"
"It's an acceptance letter from Harvard," Kyoya replied with a passably blank expression. He swallowed painfully.
"Why," his father asked in a sort of calm yell, "did you apply to Harvard and not Ouran University's medical program?"
"I think I would be a better fit for business than medicine." Shut up, just shut up. I'm making it worse for myself.
"Kyoya, I was thinking of naming you the heir, but I cannot if you do not go into medicine. Do you not want to be a part of the Ootori Group? When you turned management back to me after you saved the Ootori Group, I thought that you had lost your obsession with becoming the heir, but I did not imagine that you would actually end up rejecting the Ootori Group when the time came." The words, underscored with seething frustration, made him flinch.
"I do not want to run the Ootori Group. I'm sorry, but I plan on finding success another way." Kyoya's voice was now more robotic than emotionless.
His father seemed to blow a top. He slammed the letter down on his desk. "You are the third son who has been given the chance to run an entire conglomerate. Others would never even consider you." He shook his head. "This must be Suoh's and Fujioka's fault."
Even though he had not felt terrible and bitter about his situation since Tamaki taught him to accept and even use his situation to succeed, even though he knew better than to get angry and leave himself vulnerable, Kyoya suddenly grew furious. He did not really know why, but perhaps it was due to the fact that his father had brought his best friends into this and because his father's words were so similar to those in Kyoya's dream that morning. Bringing them into this was a big mistake, Father. Even though I don't hate you as much as once had, I will not let you disrespect me or the people close to me.
"How dare you! I spent the last couple of years desperately trying to please you because, apparently, your sons do not deserve anything unless they can prove themselves to be successful. I spent so many sleepless nights maintaining my grades, working on whatever you want me to do and looking into what else I could possibly do for the Ootori Group, and managing connections with those who could potentially benefit the Ootori Group. I did everything I could to show that I deserved to be heir, yet you never even gave me a glance." He paused as he tried to process everything that he wanted to say. "Dammit! Forget about giving me a glance. Most of the time you are not even home, and when you are, you make sure to remind me of how much work I have to do to become your successor. Tamaki and Haruhi are the ones who showed me that I am not worthless, that I can be successful if I put in the effort. They made me realize that I could perhaps do better than running my family's zaibatsu. They were better to me than you ever were." Shit. Did I just yell at my father?
His father stood up. "I let you be the heir! What more do you want?"
Kyoya saw red. "I WANT YOU TO APPRECIATE YOUR OWN SONS! IS IT REALLY THAT DAMN HARD?" As he roared at his father, his hands clenched into fists and he felt his nails dig deep into his palms. He thought about how the deep, crescent-shaped cuts that he would undoubtedly leave on his hands as a result would serve as a memory of this conversation.
He braced himself when his father stepped closer to him. But a slap never came. What did come was worse.
"Get out of my house!" his father screamed. "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! You are no longer part of this family. Take your things and LEAVE! You don't want a part of the Ootori Group, THEN DON'T BE A PART OF THIS FAMILY! You are going to regret ever saying that you will not be the heir."
And just like that, Yoshio Ootori's most promising son was no longer part of the family.
Aaaaahhh! I want to cry.
The fic will be light and fluffy again soon enough. Don't worry. I love some good fluff to complement the angst. Also, as I promised earlier, I will add some goofy Host Club shenanigans when appropriate (probably somewhere in the next couple of chapters, but not quite yet as Kyoya's now in distress *sobs*). In this fic, I really wanted to touch on Kyoya's family and show how Haruhi can help him alongside all the fluff and cuteness that would come with a Host Club romance.
When I think about it, it rather fits the nature of the manga and anime: cute and comedic, but absolutely tear jerking at some parts.