Another chapter! I hope you all have been good for Santa haha
I know I haven't been. Woops.
Merry melted into the chair with a sigh, cradling a cup of tea. "This is nice."
Isamu boomed out a laugh that startled Yori into flinging his cards in the air. "Yer right abou' that, lass. Been too long, y'know." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Yer exams are comin' up soon. Y'ready?"
She smiled indulgently. "When am I not?"
Kat nodded in agreement, throwing some Twizzlers and a bag of gumballs into the mountainous pile in the centre of the table.
"M-M-Merry-san," Yori started, eyes twitchy as he folded his hand. "A-are you… are y-you o-o-okay?"
Merry tilted her head slightly. "Of course, Yori-san. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Ya came through the door like the hounds o' hell were on yer bum, lass," Isamu grunted, glaring down at his cards. Kat frowned and Yori spluttered so hard his glasses almost fell off.
After a moment Merry sighed, placing her empty teacup on the table. Truth be told, she missed the simplicity of talking to people who didn't have to worry about social standings or lacing their words with subtle undertones and threats. That, and exams started tomorrow and she hadn't sat an exam in a school room for over two years. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't nervous.
"I just needed to relax for a moment is all. Thank you for the concern, though. It is appreciated."
"Yer can't relax out there with all yer fancy-wancy expensive crap?" Isamu chuckled good-naturedly. "Don't you young'ns have day spa's on speed dial? Most of 'em were born with silver spoons stuck up their arses, y'know."
Merry frowned slightly. "Not all of us," she said slowly, quietening the chuckling man. "I don't know what your true opinion of the Ouran student body is, Isamu-san, and quite frankly it's none of my business but I thought we were past unnecessary bias after the first hour spent in each other's company."
"Ah," Isamu hummed, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly as he flipped over his cards. "Sorry, lass. Old habits are hard to break, y'know. Yer the first young'n that's even bothered to acknowledge us regular folk as somethin' other than 'the help.'"
"Their loss," Merry said firmly.
Kat cracked a grin, nodding in agreement as he showed his cards. He won.
"Damnit, Kat! Again?!"
"There is a charity gala this Thursday night at the Yasuragi Art Gallery to celebrate its grand reopening."
Merry glanced at Kyoya sidelong through her lashes. "I've heard."
Kyoya nodded. "I thought as much. My father wished me to extend an invitation to you personally."
"My father has already received his invitation but his duties at work keep him busy. I will be going in his stead regardless of your extension or not."
"I accounted for that also, which is why you and I are going to cover the basics of what should happen when you encounter my father."
Merry stopped in the middle of the hallway, raising a brow and ignoring the grumbles of the other students as they adjusted their flow to avoid her. "Do you think me incompetent?"
He stopped to face her, adjusting his glasses. "Quite the opposite, in fact. As a stand in for your father you are representing Watanabe International. My father will accost you sometime during the night to discuss business. To test your mettle, so to speak."
"You almost sound worried. Are you afraid that I will do or say something to jeopardise the plan?"
"My father is a brilliant man, Merry-san. He has been attending events such as these since before we were born. He knows how to work a room with ease."
"You still sound worried," Merry pointed out. "Nervous, perhaps. If I said that you have nothing to worry about, would you trust me?"
Kyoya stared at her, face unreadable but this was important. He needed to trust her, to let her do her own thing and to not get any closer than necessary. The more they spent time together, the more she started to doubt and that was not acceptable.
He nodded slowly. "I suppose so."
"Then you have nothing to worry about."
"Fine," he conceded after a long pause. "But I will be sticking close by to ensure you do not give the plan away."
Merry continued on her way, waving over her shoulder as she melted into the student body. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Kyoya-san."
She could practically feel his eyes burning into her skull.
Exams were rather straightforward. You were given a time frame, a sheaf of paper and a designated seat. No talking, no cheating, no worries.
Merry found it to be much like one of Ran's etiquette lessons; boring but direct.
She was rather confident that her results would be pleasing.
Ran would say her father would be proud.
Sometimes she wasn't so sure.
Thursday night arrived and Merry stared out of the limousine windows, drowning out the sound of Ran tapping away on her laptop. Merry vaguely noted the way she typed was more like an attack of precision filled with purpose, rather than Kyoya's studious contemplation and sure strokes.
"I trust you remember that you are representing your father's company tonight. Your multitude of lessons should come into play, I presume."
Merry sighed quietly at the unnecessary reminder. "I remember, Ran. I won't disappoint my father, nor will I tarnish the company name."
"I have no doubt of that, Miss Merry."
Merry hummed, smoothing out the delicate lace of her vermillion cheongsam as the architectural wonder that was Yasuragi Art Gallery shone like a beacon just ahead. Daisuke slowed to a stop at the curb, hopping out of the driver's seat to open her door. Ran went first, looking fierce in a simple black dress. From the gathered gulps smattered with a few wails of despair from the photographers waiting outside, she guessed her handler was using patented stare down technique number forty seven; glare of arctic death.
Daisuke's hand appeared to help her out of the car and she accepted it with a quick smile. It wouldn't do to have a photo snapped of her grinning up at her driver. It would only fuel baseless rumours.
Daisuke's knew this, and gave a small nod in turn.
Merry slid from the car, the flashes of the camera's almost blinding her but she kept her chin up, looking to all like the poised heiress they believed her to be.
She followed Ran to the foyer where her handler was quietly speaking to an event coordinator, ignoring questions about her father, her father's company and her father's dealings.
The door closed behind her and Ran, the shouts of the photographer's being taken over by delicate music wafting over from a woman at the grand piano tucked into the corner of the cavernous room.
The place smelled of strawberries, expensive champagne and ego.
Merry resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose.
"I have a few matters to take care of, Miss Merry. Please mingle. I will find you."
Merry nodded absently, eyes already scanning the crowd for a familiar face. She couldn't see Kyoya at this point in time, but she had no doubt they would find each other amongst the sea of black tuxedos and haute couture.
She swept through the mass, taking in the bright lights and exquisite art hung on the walls behind velvet ropes. The gallery was a large, open space dissected by long tables to provide a place of discussion or rest with enough leeway for couples to slow dance in the centre if they wished.
The collections ranged from traditional silk prints to ceramics to modern and abstract, some artists mingling with the higher echelons of society and babbling about their work.
Every single one of them were unknowns just breaking into the international scene so their enthusiasm was understandable.
A flash of colour caught her eye and Merry turned towards it, breath catching in her throat at the large canvas mural that ensconced the wall from floor to ceiling. It was spectacular, all colour and passion, painted in waves of complimentary hues. In the centre was the visage of a woman dancing, her skirts flowing and becoming movement and colour itself. It looked like emotion, like how she played her violin as if writing in a diary. It was all intensity and raw sentiment.
A suit clad shoulder brushed against hers. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Merry smiled, eyes still glued to the artwork, simply named 'Heart.' "Indeed."
"It was a rather late edition as the artist had been out of the country, but I am glad I decided to allow it to showcase."
"As am I." Merry turned to face her new companion with a smile. "How are you, Jin-san?"
Jin smiled, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "I am fine, Merry-sama. May I say you look beautiful tonight?"
"Thank you. Where's Yuki-san?"
"Resting her feet. The baby has been moving about rather actively these last few weeks."
"Have you been sent on a food run?" Merry asked, bemused.
Jin sighed depreciatively though a smile played about his lips. "Yes. I love my wife but there are only so many times a man can watch ice cream being mixed with soy sauce until he loses his appetite all together."
Merry's nose wrinkled as she huffed out a laugh. "An interesting combination, I'm sure. The gallery looks amazing, Jin-san. You manage it well."
Jin bowed. "You're too kind. If you'll excuse me, Merry-sama, I need to see to my wife and the patrons. I shall speak to you later if you wish."
"Absolutely. I want to know more about this piece."
Jin shot her one last smile before disappearing, only to be replaced by a familiar face.
"You seem to be on rather good terms with the gallery manager," Kyoya stated, looking at the painting behind her. "Rather fast work. Either that or you have known him before this gala."
"Jin-san is a good man," Merry answered.
"Is he another one of your underdogs?"
Her lips twitched as she read between the lines to Kyoya's curiosity of wanting to know if Jin was as close to her as her house staff. She was mildly sorry to disappoint him.
"No, he isn't."
Kyoya hummed vaguely. "I must say you are rather easy to spot through the crowd with such a stunning dress. I daresay it's the boldest colour here."
Merry scanned him, taking in the tailored suit and silver tie. "You cut quite a dashing figure yourself."
He smirked. "Of course."
She sighed. "And your ego just subtracted at least ten points."
"Ten points? What did I have to begin with?" he asked, still smirking.
"Ten."
"So now I'm zero."
"Correct. Your math skills are up to par with a five year old. You should be proud."
"You can be quite harsh at times, Merry-san."
"Only when you deserve it, Kyoya-san."
A giggle floated over the pair and they turned as one to see a woman stifling her laughter behind a delicate hand, the shimmering blue sleeve of her dress floating about her wrist.
"Oh please, don't mind me. It's simply wonderful to see two young people in love."
Merry felt heat creep up from her chest but she prided herself on the fact she didn't stutter nor stumble over her words. "I'm afraid you must have misread the situation. Kyoya-san and I are not a couple. We attend Ouran Academy together."
She blinked faux innocently and Merry spared a brief glance at Kyoya. His lips were pressed thin and his eyes were narrowed at the woman. Merry caught on quickly, mind filtering through names and faces from Ran's lists until she dredged up a match.
"You must be Fuyumi Ootori-Shido. It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is-"
"Merry-chan!" she blurted.
Merry actually faltered at that until a smile smoothed her bewildered features. "Merry Watanabe. I see my reputation proceeds me."
"You keep my younger brother on his toes. Of course I've heard of you!" she chuckled.
"Is that so?" Merry mused, casting a sly glance at a stony Kyoya.
"Where is Masato-san?" he intoned.
"Purchasing a rather lovely vase for our foyer," she sighed wistfully. "It's beautiful, Kyo-kun. It'll make a wonderful centrepiece."
"I'm sure," Kyoya replied dryly. "Why don't you go find him, nee-chan? To make sure he doesn't purchase the wrong one."
Fuyumi blinked between Kyoya and Merry before smiling lightly. "Of course. It was a pleasure to meet you, Merry-chan. Until next time."
In a swirl of blue skirts she was gone.
"Your sister seems lovely," Merry stated.
"She has her moments."
"I've often wondered what it would be like to have siblings."
"That also has its moments."
Something in his tone rang warning bells in her mind that screamed Sensitive Topic. She deftly switched subjects.
"What is your opinion of the glasswork from Norway, Kyoya-san?"
He seemed to appreciate her effort because he answered.
Yoshio watched his youngest son like a hawk as his wife made amicable small talk with a renowned plastic surgeon from Kyoto.
His son was charming, that much was certain. It came from numerous observations of the mistakes and successes of his older brothers, as well as a little something that was simply 'Kyoya.'
The young woman standing beside him in front of a rather large painting was stunning in an exotic way. Given a few years she would grow into her beauty. Yoshio could see Sora Watanabe in her shoulders and sharp eyes.
Merry Watanabe.
He turned back to his wife, conceding to a point she made despite not having heard a word. His wife knew of his inattentiveness but covered him flawlessly, as she so often did.
Kyoya was taking his advice seriously, and that was all that mattered for now.
He made a mental note of how bright his son's smile was, small though it may have been.
Fuyumi's husband's name isn't mentioned in the manga as far as I'm aware. He's only known as Mr Shido.
So his first name (in this fic) is now Masato.
Also, Jin is another OC. Sorry #notsorry.
There will be one more chapter dedicated to the charity gala.
I honestly didn't think this story would take this long to come to completion, but alas, it seems I'm a sucker for drama and angst.
Also missed writing the janitors, hence their support at the start of the chapter. Also, because I like writing Isamu's reaction to losing at poker.
Let me know what you think :3