Chapter 5

Kyoya lay on his couch, curled up on his side with his arms wrapped around himself, watching Sunday afternoon television. An old anime show flashed across the screen, but Kyoya's absent stare failed to follow the storyline. Instead, he replayed the previous evening in his head. The looks in his friends' eyes, the blood, the shame. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been. He was an idiot to think that spending the night with other people would be a good idea. He had made a fool of himself in front the people whom he respected most. They could clearly see that he was losing his mind. He was a freak and now they all knew it. What if they kicked him out of the Host Club? There would be a scandal if anyone found out that the Club was allowing an unstable member to interact with clients.

A knock on his bedroom door interrupted his self-deprecating thoughts. Before he could answer, Mori stepped into his room. Stunned by the tall boy appearing in his room, Kyoya just stared at him. Dressed in leggings, shorts, and a hooded pullover, Mori looked ready to hit the gym.

Mori regarded Kyoya lying on the couch still wearing the sweater over his pajamas from last night. There were dark circles under his eyes. He looked pale and haggard.

"Hi," said Mori.

"Hello," replied Kyoya still not moving from his position on the couch.

Mori walked over and dropped his backpack on the floor. "Get up. We're going for a run."

Kyoya blinked. "Where is Honey-senpai?"

"Mitsukuni isn't here." Mori gestured towards Kyoya's closet. "Get dressed."

"Mori-Senpai, I don't—"

Leaning down, Mori took Kyoya's hand, pulled him up off the couch and led him to the closet. Kyoya stood nonplussed as Mori pulled out shorts and a t-shirt, shoving them into his arms.

"Get dressed."

Too shocked to argue, he pulled his pajama top over his head and replaced it with the t-shirt.

"Senpai, I'm not a runner."

"As of today, you are." Mori spun Kyoya around and tied on his forehead a hachimaki with the kanji "fighting spirit" on either side of the rising sun motif.

Feeling a mixture of confusion, annoyance, and dread, Kyoya followed Mori through the house, out the front door, and down the long, curving driveway. Unsure of what was going on, his three bodyguards fell in ten steps behind them.

The overcast day had a cool wind that cut through Kyoya's t-shirt like a knife. He chaffed his arms trying to combat the goosebumps raising on his flesh.

"You know, our home gym has a treadmill," said Kyoya.

"Outside is better."

Reaching the estate gates, Kyoya stopped and turned to Mori, "Listen, Senpai, I appreciate you coming here, but I don't really want to talk about what happened last night."

"We're not talking. We're running."

Mori broke into a slow jog and began to follow the property's perimeter fence towards the estate's garden. Not knowing what else to do, Kyoya followed. Together they followed the tall, wrought iron fence that circled the Ootori estate with Kyoya's bodyguards keeping pace behind them. Through the maple trees, over the little garden bridge, along the edge of the koi pond, and past a weathered stone lantern. Unused to athletic activity, Kyoya was soon panting hard. His heart beat like a jackhammer in his chest. Beside him, Mori wasn't even breaking a sweat.

Kyoya tried to measure the distance by counting the stone pillars of the fence, but soon lost track. Careful not to tread on the Azaleas, they emerged from the edge of the garden and circled behind the property's outbuildings. Kyoya saw the head gardener trying not to stare at them from inside his greenhouse as they jogged by. Coming around the back of the garage, it was a straight shot across the front lawn to the driveway gate. The chill he had felt earlier was long forgotten as sweat soaked into his t-shirt and hachimaki. Completing the lap, Kyoya stopped at the front gate and bent over with hands on his knees, trying to get air into his burning lungs. Mori came up and pushed on his back, propelling him forward.

"Keep walking while you breathe, then we'll go again."

Kyoya glanced back at his bodyguards who, like Mori, did not seem strained by the exertion. The thought crossed his mind that good staff should be intervening on his behalf. Even though they had their usual stoic expressions, looking at them he got the impression that they were finding this event amusing. He glared at them which caused them to fall back another five steps. Just when he got his breathing under control, Mori pushed him into a jog again.

After only a few moments Kyoya tried to slow to a walk, "Mori, I can't—"

"Senpai," corrected Mori.

"Excuse me?"

"I am your senpai," said Mori. "And yes, you can." He pushed Kyoya again.

Chastised, Kyoya blushed and jogged forward. Mori had just pulled rank on him. He had never done that before and it surprised Kyoya. Clearly, all of this was meant to be punishment. He thought of his behaviour last night at the sleepover: disrupting movie night, hitting Kaoru, walking out on everyone. Shame made his throat tighten.

"You can do this," Mori gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. "Just keep breathing and we'll do it together."

Kyoya looked up at Mori in surprise. A faint smile was on the taller boy's normally stony face. Kyoya didn't understand. If this was punishment, why was Mori being encouraging? Maybe this wasn't punishment. Maybe it was something else.

Every time he got to the point where he thought his heart would burst Mori would let him walk, but as soon as his breathing evened out, he was made to run again. They carried on like this, lap after lap, for what felt like hours. Just when Kyoya thought he was going to vomit, Mori called a halt.

"That's enough. 5 kilometres in 47:25. Lots of room for improvement."

Kyoya sagged against the fence, then slid down to the ground.

"Why did you make me do this?"

Mori didn't answer as he picked Kyoya up by his arms and set him on his feet. Keeping a hand on Kyoya's shoulder, Mori led him back to the house.

Reaching his room, Kyoya collapsed on to the couch. He picked up the TV remote, but Mori grabbed it out of his hand.

"Don't watch TV tonight." Mori picked up his bag and pulled out two bottles of water, an apple, and a book. "Drink these. Eat this. And read this."

Kyoya picked up the book. It was a translated copy of Anna Karenina. "Um…Russian novels are not my usual taste."

"Read it. It will help."

"Help with what?"

Mori slung his bag on his shoulder and headed for the door. As he was about to leave, he looked back over his shoulder. "Have you spoken to your father about what happened last night?"

Kyoya stared at the book, turning it over in his hands. "No."

"You should talk to your father," said Mori as he disappeared out the door.

Kyoya dropped the book to the floor. He thought about his father. He couldn't imagine trying to speak to him about sleepovers, nightmares, and inexplicable feelings of dread. His father often spoke of the strength of the Ootori family and how family members had a duty to uphold the family's honour. He would be disgusted by his son acting like a frightened child.

Feeling drained, Kyoya pulled himself off the couch and dragged his body into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, he peeled his off his sweaty clothes and dumped them on the floor. He stepped under the water and turned it up as hot as he could stand. He stood with hands apart on the tiled wall in front of him, leaning forward with his head hanging down. He breathed through his mouth as the water ran down his back, turning his skin red. Everything hurt. His muscles, his head, and his heart. They were just bad dreams, he thought. They would go away and everything would go back to normal. It's fine, nothing is wrong. Nothing is wrong.

When he couldn't take the heat any longer, he stepped from the shower. A cloud of steam billowed out into the bedroom when he opened the door. He riffled his hair with a towel as he padded across the room to his dresser. A fresh pair of boxer shorts and a clean cotton t-shirt had him feeling a touch more human.

Flopping on the couch, Kyoya picked up the TV remote, then caught sight of the book on the floor. He hesitated for a moment, then put down the remote. Retrieving the book, he turned it over in his hands, considering its cover. He picked up the apple Mori had left. He bit into it with a satisfying crunch. With one hand he flipped the book open to the first page.

"Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way…"

He woke with a start. The nightmare's terror fading fast, he looked around trying to figure out where he was. After a heartbeat's disorientation, he realized he had fallen asleep on his couch. His glasses where askew on his face and poking him painfully. Through the dim grey light, the clock on the wall read 5:56 AM.

Kyoya let out a breath, sat up and held his head in his hands. He had slept through the night. A full night's sleep. Relief washed over him like a tide. His eyes watered with emotion and he couldn't help but smile.

The book he had been reading was lying open, face down on the floor where it had fallen. Kyoya picked it up and smoothed out the pages.

"Mori-senpai, you're a genius. I think today is going to be a good day."

Kyoya sat down at the family breakfast table. An elegant spread of rice, grilled fish, and miso soup was laid out before him. Feeling truly hungry for the first time in days, he dished himself out large helpings of each.

His father sat at the head of the table, sipping his coffee while reading the newspaper. His brother, Akito, sat across from him, eating rice and flipping through a medical textbook.

"Kyoya," his father addressed him without looking up from his newspaper. "You've missed dinner three evenings in a row, and the head chauffeur tells me that you came home in the middle of the night on Saturday."

Kyoya suppressed a sigh. Nothing that went on in this house escaped his father's notice. He made a tactical choice to not address his absence from dinner. "Yes, that's right. I was supposed to stay over at the Hitachiin home with my friends, but I was feeling unwell so I came home."

His father flipped the corner his newspaper down and gave his son an examining stare.

"I'm feeling much better now," reassured Kyoya. Technically, the story wasn't a lie. It was just vague. Any further questions from his father were interrupted by his mother entering the breakfast room. The three Ootori males politely stood while she sat down in the chair next to Kyoya's.

"It's good to see you down at breakfast so early, Kyoya, dear." She reached over and turned his face towards her with a finger. The bruise on his cheek had started to fade into a sickly yellow colour and Kyoya winced has she ran her thumb over it. "Tsk. I don't think that nasty thing is going to heal before the trial. I don't like you going out in public looking like this. You look like a common thug. I think we should try covering it up with makeup."

Kyoya looked at her in surprise. "Trial? What trial?"

"The trial of those ruffians who tried to assault you, of course." She let go of his face and started to dish out food onto her plate. "Your father has connections at the Ministry of Justice. He used them to get the court date moved up so we can get this whole ugly business dealt with and then forget that it ever happened."

A weight dropped in Kyoya's stomach and he felt sick. His appetite evaporated and he pushed his half-finished plate away.

"When?" he asked.

"Hm?" His mother had already moved on to other things in her mind. "What's that, darling?"

Kyoya's mouth felt dry. "When is the trial?"

"Two weeks from now," answered his father, flipping a page of his newspaper. "And it's not a trial, it's a sentencing hearing."

Kyoya made to reach for his water glass, but seeing his hand shake, he drew it back and hid it in his lap. "And…and I would have to go?"

"I should think that was obvious," snorted his brother Akito

Ignoring Akito's comment, Kyoya's father folded his paper and stood up to leave. "You may be asked to speak. It will be short and you shouldn't have to miss more than one day of school, so there is no need to worry."

They thought he was worried about falling behind at school. That was ridiculous, but what was more absurd was his inexplicable anxiety. Why was the thought of a hearing making his stomach roll? Unable to sit at the table any longer, Kyoya got up from his chair.

"Leaving already?" asked his mother.

Kyoya smiled at her and lied, "I have to meet up with a classmate to work on a project for school."

"Have a nice day, dear," she said, returning his smile. "Work hard."

He nodded and rushed from the room. Picking up his bag, he practically ran out the front door to the car. Sliding into the back seat, he clutched his bag to his chest. His good day had lasted a little more than an hour.