J~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"While you have our types nailed down, you seem to have neglected what makes us friends." Oh, he is the most stuck up guy I've ever met.
"I just assumed you were all high school cronies." He frowned a bit at this, like I had stolen some of his thunder.
"Yes, but we were also part of an elite club."
"That you seem to have continued into your adult life. I gather Haruhi was the only female member and the only one without a clear type?" He twitched. Mission accomplished. "Are you seriously telling me that the only thing that made you friends was a club?"
The men were all silent. Oops.
"Actually, Judy. Yes." Haruhi's matter-of-factness cut through the awkward feeling in the air. "Tamaki started the club with Kyoya. He invited the guys you see here because he thought their differing qualities would bolster the club's popularity." She gave the room a sweep with her soulful eyes. "It's not a big deal guys. You're friends now."
"You're right, Haruhi. It's not a big deal. And, I apologize." Geez! Again with the apologizing. It's seems it's all I do now.
Present (Three Weeks Later):
"Haruhi!"
"Judy!"
I'd never been one to make close friends quickly. Never. I'm one who bides my time. Waiting, observing, analyzing. Only the strong survive and make it into my inner circle, with few exceptions. Haruhi is the exception. It was a foreign concept to me, a detached person, making such a close friend in less than a month. In the States, I had three friends (maybe) that were good enough for me to yell at in a parking lot. To find one in Japan was something I had not expected.
"So, what are you looking for today, Haruhi?"
"Tamaki is insisting on some big anniversary dinner." She rolled her eyes and started walking.
"Dating anniversary? Engagement anniversary?"
"Nothing so important. It's the anniversary of the day he went to his first fair."
"Are you kidding me? Well, at least, you won't have to worry about him forgetting the little things."
When we entered the department store, I had to let my eyes adjust to the new lighting. "He's determined to go to dinner to celebrate. I told him that we could just have dinner at home to commemorate the momentous occasion, but he started crying. So, here I am to buy a dress for what is sure to be a ludicrous meal." Throughout her little speech, Haruhi had kept her focus straight ahead and her tone even.
"Wow. Are all his 'anniversaries' important?"
"All of them."
"And, he never forgets one?"
"Nope."
"I think that he fits you well, Haruhi. Tamaki makes the most of every opportunity to be with you. He's the romantic: You, the rational."
"Yeah. I know. It is nice. I mean, I never really cared for big gestures, and I still wish he'd go smaller; but it means a lot that he remembers Mom's death day, Dad's birthday, things like that. In fact, I think it was those particular days that made Dad decide Tamaki was okay."
We were silent for a bit, just focusing on the department we needed to be in. "Judy, what are you looking for?"
"Oh, I don't know. I have a feeling I may need a new formal or dress sometime soon." I aimlessly swept my hands across a rack of blouses.
"Why would you need a new formal?"
"I have a feeling I'm going to be asked to perform soon." Haruhi stopped walking and grabbed my arm, effectively halting my progress.
"Judy, who do you think is going to hire you?"
"Oh, I'm not too certain yet, but I have a decent idea that he's been conspiring for a while. Though, why he won't just ask is beyond me. I prefer it when people are forthright."
"Is it possible you mean Kyoya-senpai?" I didn't know her eyes could get any larger. Sure enough, her brown pools became ponds.
"Calm down, Haruhi. We both know that Kyoya only hires people he thinks are capable. I understand that his parties are very grand affairs and that classical music is usually the order of the evening anyway, so an opera singer wouldn't be out of place." That seemed to put everything in perspective for her. Her eyes went back to their normal size, her face took on its normal cast, and she started to walk.
"So, you only think of it as a possible job."
"Of course, that's all it is. Kyoya and I see eye to eye on the fact that business is business. If my singing is useful for his little shindigs, then I'm certain an appearance at one of his business parties would be useful for me as well." I was being incredibly pragmatic about it, even for me, for Haruhi's sake. It would be rather nice if it were more than a performance, but it's not likely. Best to keep everything in perspective.
Later that night, I had put away the few items I purchased while shopping. I was surprised Kyoya hadn't asked me to do anything in the last month. I really thought he would. It would be nice, whether it's business or not. I turned on my record player and curled up on the couch with my favorite book.
Four records, a dropped book, and a thorough nap later, my cellphone rang. I looked at the clock: twelve thirty! Who the heck is calling me now? My family are all at work in the States, so it's someone in town. I grabbed my phone from my purse and checked the caller ID. Kyoya?
K~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was late when I picked up my phone and dialed the number. I'd spent all evening preparing for my company's party. I'd called my events coordinator and given her my list of requirements. Now, it was time to put the first of my plan into action. I pressed the call button and waited.
"Hello?" The voice was groggy and a bit disconnected. I looked at my watch. Twelve thirty in the morning!
Well, darn it.
"Judy, I'm sorry for calling so late."
"Kyoya?"
"Did I wake you?"
"Ummm…No, not at all. I'm still in my living room." I'm pretty sure she fell asleep on her couch.
"I have a favor to ask of you." I kept my voice level. There was no way she'd pass this up: She was too much of an opportunist.
"Humm. What could it be?" She enfused her gravelly voice with a slightly coy tone, I thought.
"I'm hosting a party for my company in two weeks, but the music program isn't as full as I would like it to be." I knew I sounded cooly business-like. "Would you sing a set?"
"You know, Kyoya, of course, I'm saying yes; but you don't have to sound like we're such strangers." Is that disappointment?
"Judy, this is business. I need quality entertainment for my guests, and you need professional exposure. It's a win-win situation for both of us."
"I'm not a fool, Mr. Ohtori. I know that it is mutually beneficial, and I know that is the only way you work. Somehow, I can't help but feel that you are getting the better deal in this. What else do you have to gain?" I could hear the wheels whirring in her brain. "Oh, well. Thanks for the opportunity, friend."
The biting sarcasm caught me off-guard. "Judy, wait."
"What is it, Mr. Ohtori?" If I didn't know better, I'd think she was hurt.
"Would you stop calling me that?"
"I thought the great businessman would be used to it."
"What did I do?" I was feeling strangely desperate. Why?
"Nothing, sir. Is there a special selection you would like to hear that night. Unfortunately, I do not take requests from the audience, so I'll take your tastes into consideration now."
Before I could think about it, "La Captive," had escaped from my mouth. What made me mention that piece?
A long stretch of silence. Did she fall asleep?
Click. She hung up on me!
J~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Did he just ask that? How could he know? How did he KNOW?! He doesn't. It's not possible. I don't know how long I stood there, holding the phone in complete silence. I don't know how long Kyoya called my name. I had retreated to a year prior, to a man I wanted to forget, but never could. I could hear every word he ever said, see his every expression, feel his touch. Images began flashing before my mind's eye: the hospital doors, a sterile hall, wilting flowers, machines. I could feel the fever. No!
I lowered the phone from my face and pressed the end-call button. As I came out of my daze, I noticed my record player had stopped. I rifled through my collection and pulled out Rachmaninov's Rhapsody. I turned the volume all the way up. I had to drown out my mind. I wandered my tiny apartment and aimlessly straightened the main room. I was just about to go to bed when I heard the doorbell ring. Who would come visit so late? Stop leaning on the bell! I grabbed my taser and looked out the peephole.
K~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I stared at my phone for a few minutes. That was not the way that phone call was supposed to go. I suppose it doesn't matter. She did agree after all, but it would be so much easier if she had been in a more pleasant state of mind when she agreed.
I sat on my sofa for a while listening to the clock, trying to empty my mind. But, the hurt in her voice, the sarcasm of her words, haunted me.
All right, that's it! I threw my legs over the side of the couch, stood, and grabbed my keys. I had to fix this glaring problem. If she wasn't happy about singing for me, my plans could be ruined.
I didn't really notice my state of dress until I was driving down the road: White t-shirt and jeans. No time to turn back now.
I pulled into the parking lot and walked to her first floor apartment. The light was still on. In fact, the whole apartment was ablaze with light, and I could hear Pagannini's "Rhapsody" playing loudly. I knocked once, twice, thrice. I rang the bell, then leaned on the bell.
The peep-hole light darkened. "Who is it?" Her voice was muffled.
"Kyoya."
"What are you doing here? It's one in the morning." She doesn't sound angry.
"I need to talk to you. Please, open the door."
"Kyoya, this is rather inappropriate." She doesn't sound very disapproving either.
"Come on, Judy."
"Fine." The door creaked as she pulled it inward. The light from the living room backlit her figure, haloing her hair, and casting her face in shadow. From what I could see, she was still wearing her work clothes, a pencil skirt and white button down.
"May I come in?"
"Kyoya, I don't know why you came or what you're thinking; but I really don't approve of late night visits." She crossed her arms.
"I normally wouldn't do this, but I need to talk to you, and it would look bad for both of us if I'm seen on your doorstep at this hour."
"Very well." She grabbed the door and stepped aside to let me in.
I stepped in and waited for her to lock the door. I turned when I heard the door click and noticed her dress was much more casual than I had thought. Her shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a white camisole and the shirt ends were tied in a knot around her waist. Her skirt was slightly rumpled from sleep, and her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail.
J~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Who is it?"
"Kyoya." He sounded worn out.
"What are you doing here? It's one in the morning." Seriously, is he crazy?
"I need to talk to you. Please, open the door."
"Kyoya, this is rather inappropriate." I meant it, too.
"Come on, Judy." Nag, nag, nag.
"Fine." My apartment light flooded the porch, engulfing Kyoya in yellow flame. Somehow, though, he managed to maintain shadows on his eyes. The harsh light lit up the rest of his body, highlighting his clothing choice: jeans, loafers, and a white t-shirt. Hardly what he'd wear, even on his day off.
"May I come in?" Suave as ever. Dang, I wish his voice didn't turn my insides to mush!
"Kyoya, I don't know why you came or what you're thinking; but I really don't approve of late night visits." I crossed my arms. In return, he raised one arm to lean on the door jam.
"I normally wouldn't do this, but I need to talk to you, and it would look bad for both of us if I'm seen on your doorstep at this hour."
"Very well." I pulled the door wide for him.
He entered the main room, and I knew he was waiting for me to lock the door and escort him to his seat. I flipped the deadbolt and then turned around to find him staring at me. His face was calm, but I knew he was taking in my every detail. It was making me uncomfortable.