A/N: Well, if you haven't noticed already, I'm posting multiple chapters at once. More specifically, four. After that, it's up to you guys to read and review to inspire me to update. Well, that's it. Enjoy.
"What took you so long?"
Quietly, I slid into the waiting stretch limo, closing the door behind me. Almost immediately, the car pulled away from the curb, heading towards the Satou family's rather large estate. Scooting over, I sat across from my cousin, setting my bag down on the ground. This car is so freaking tacky, I thought. No one in their right mind drives around in limos in America. Inside, the car was dark - dark leather, dark upholstery, and darkly tinted windows. The separator was up, dividing the car in two. Natsumi's so stuck up, she refuses to converse with the 'help'.
"Trying to figure out your country's stupid currency," I muttered, looking outside. Unfamiliar scenery whizzed by as the driver went barely above the speed limit. Just fast enough that we could get home early but slow enough that if police used their speedometer, it could be debatable. Awesome.
"Hmph," Natsumi smirked, her face contorted into a rather ugly expression. Or perhaps that's just the way she looked. "For all your smarts, you sure act stupid."
"H-." I stopped. If I lashed out at Natsumi, her parents, my aunt and uncle, would be pissed. And my life would get even harder. Sighing, I said nothing. This was going to be a long car ride.
"What was with her?"
The host club had ended and all of the customers finally went home. Now were just the after-club activities. This usually involved Haruhi cleaning up, Kyoya crunching numbers, and the others sitting around chatting about rather inconsequential topics. Today was different, though. Everyone had taken their seat at the long rectangular table, which meant some important shit was about to go down.
"She didn't want to be bothered," Haruhi said matter-of-factly. "I know the feeling."
"Maybe she's still angry," Kaoru and Hikaru said together.
"What?" Everyone looked at the twins. Everyone that is, except for Haruhi, who'd been there when it happened.
"Oh, we didn't tell you?" The twins snickered deviously. Haruhi groaned, rolling her eyes. There was no way these two were going to say it nicely. The two doppelgangers looked at her. "Well, Haruhi, if you wanted to tell them, you should've said so."
Haruhi froze, looking at them. "No, I, uh, didn't mean, er, fine." Turning to the entirety of the club, she sighed. "Hikaru didn't make such a great first impression today. She ended up getting extra homework."
"It's not my fault she couldn't figure out such a simple problem," Hikaru said, crossing his arms and looking to one side. "Math is easy."
"Not for everyone," Kyoya said, pushing his glasses up and looking at the group. "In any case, according to my calculations, if we lose Miss Satou as a valuable customer, our sales will be down thirteen percent. The girl's cousin is rather influential within the social ranks."
"Whaaa?" Tamaki could hardly believe it. "How can someone be so important? Does no one come to see me?" No one paid any attention when he returned to his usual "crouching in the corner, depressed" stance.
"Oh, Tamaki-sempai, cheer up," Haruhi said, looking over at him. "You still have loyal fans."
"Not if Miss Satou has anything to say about it," Kyoya commented. "Her followers make up about seventy-three point six percent of your requests."
"That really wasn't helpful," she said, face-palming as Tamaki sunk deeper into his state of depression. Soon he'll start growing mushrooms again…
It wasn't soon enough when the castle-like building came into view. Fifteen minutes away from school, it was significantly closer to the Satou family's private beach, something I appreciated greatly. Indeed, back home, I seriously loved surfing, considering it much better than any other sport. No matter the season, I'd always be up for a few hours of surfing. Not that I was pro or anything; I just considered it a great stress reliever.
As we drove up the driveway, I began to gather my things. Across from me, Natsumi just sat there and when her door finally opened, she stepped out, paying no heed to her school things. Behind her, a maid obediently grabbed her things, rushing after her. I groaned, turning around and knocking on the partition. Almost immediately, it came down.
"Yes Miss Daisuke?" The driver turned to look at me.
"I just wanted to say thanks, Oji-san. And I'm sorry that Natsumi's such a bitch." A grin broke out on his face at my version of a thank you. I guess no one in the Satou family ever thanked their workers. Actually, considering my behavior recently, I wouldn't have said anything either, but I felt like they got enough shit to deal with as it is.
"It was no problem at all," he said as I began to slide out. "Have a pleasant evening, miss!"
As I walked around the main building, I slipped my bag over one shoulder. The Satou family had definitely not wanted me to come stay with them. My uncle had always hated the Daisukes ever since my mother left Japan for America. It didn't help that mom had married a rather successful American, who came from a long line of reputable entrepreneurs and politicians. So, in order to see as little of me as possible, they had 'graciously' 'permitted' me to stay in their guest house. As though they were doing me a huge favor, I thought, stepping on the cobblestone path leading to my home. Honestly, it would have become an international issue if they hadn't acknowledged their duties as my only living relatives.
"Home sweet home," I muttered sarcastically, unlocking the front door. After moving in last week, I hadn't bothered unpacking anything, instead opting to do the whole 'unpack as you go' process. As a result, the floors were completely littered with boxes, half empty with crap littered everywhere.
Stepping over a random jacket, I kicked off my Vans and walked further in. Not that there was much further to walk in to. Upon walking through the front door, there was a small mini-foyer, where to the left was a dining room (ha, like I'd be entertaining any guests) and to the right, the living room. A bit past the living room was the kitchen, already equipped with the necessities. A staircase cut the through the small house, separating the dining room from the kitchen and living room. Underneath the second-floor landing was the butler's pantry (don't ask me why they included one in such a small place) that would connect the kitchen and dining room if I ever bothered using it. Upstairs was my room, the house's only bathroom, and the laundry room.
Walking into the living room, I dropped my bag on the couch, which was already filled with boxes, before continuing into the kitchen. Stomach grumbling unhappily, I pulled open the refrigerator door. Of course, I thought, seeing the emptiness inside. Damn, I really need to go shopping. Turning away, I rummaged through empty cupboards, finally able to extract some instant ramen from the depths of the cabinet. Yum…another gourmet dinner.
Really, the only upside about eating the junk food was that it was prepared so quickly. Sitting down at the breakfast bar, I ripped the lid off of the foam cup and stirred the ingredients together with my stainless steel fork. Not that I couldn't use chopsticks, I just didn't have a set. Around me, the house was dead silent, suffocating me with the emptiness. I could barely breathe. A sudden spark of pain suddenly surged down my back, forcing me to grit my teeth.
"Music player," I grumbled aloud as the pain slowly subsided, activating the music system wired throughout the house. Immediately, music began to boom through the hidden speakers, having settled on playing an Eminem song.
"His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy. There's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti." The male rapped beautifully in the background, utilizing intricate wordplay to create a perfect line.
Soul's escaping, eh? I poked at my food dejectedly. Yeah, that sounds about right… Sighing, I pushed the food away, my appetite gone. I got up and put the foam cup on the counter for later. Silence. Looking around, an overwhelming sense of loneliness enveloped me. My hands shook slightly and I was forced to shove them into my pockets. Weak…I'm weak.