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Chapter Seven

Haruhi twirled the long phone cord around two of her fingers and allowed a small smile to ghost over her features. Pressing the receiver into the crook between cheek and shoulder, the commoner's hands were free to scratch several digits and names into the top most piece of a post-it. "Okay, so you can come down here in three hours?"

"Of course, Haruhi-chan," came the reply, a smile evident in the man on the other line's tone. "But I have to go now—my father's coming in thirty minutes for a presentation on the school's literary percentage."

"Okay—Bye, Tamaki."

"Bye, Haruhi. I love you, too."

"I didn't say that I love you, yet," she said, tone quietly expecting a sweet and short explanation.

"I know. But I can tell you do."

There was a click and the line went dead and Haruhi stood up from the front desk she had perched herself on, gazing at the scrap of paper she had taken notes on from the conversation. The time her fiancée would be arriving to give his statement; the time and day Tamaki had approximated he'd met the Hitachiin and the name of the coffee shop the two had gone to.

The lawyer sighed and rubbed her cheeks before reentering the interrogation room. The flush just wouldn't go down and, ruefully, the brunette decided to wait for a few more second. She was just about to turn around and perhaps grab a cup of coffee from the workstation when she spotted…

"Haninozuka-senpai?" she asked, blinking in surprise at the shorter police officer. The blond smiled and her and dusted off his hands as his partner—Morinozuka, Haruhi reminded herself—returned from locking a few perpetrators in another room.

"Haru-chan!" He bubbled excitedly, dropping his tough-guy pretenses in the company of a fellow follower of the law. "What are you doing here? What case?"

"The Ootori-Hitachiin case," she told him.

"Ootori…Kyouya? He's here? Ohh! What did he do?" A worried expression replaced his happy-go-lucky grin.

"We can't prove anything yet, but…have you been down to the morgue? That poor boy…" she extended a hand that held a glazed doughnut towards the shorter cop, knowing that this should at least buck up his mood.

"No. We haven't." came the deep response of Morinozuka as his partner nibbled thoughtfully on the confection and pouted. "We just got off a three day case."

"Yes! Kasanoda and Kuze!! They went to school with us, too, right? Anyway, they were embezzling millions through threatening Kuze's sports opponents. You remember how scary Ritsu-san was, right? He's still scary!!"

Haruhi smiled and picked up her coffee. "Well, I'm glad that you're case was closed. I'll see you around?"

"Defiantly, Haru-chan! But right now, we have to go bust a drug ring that we think is tied to a couple hits."

"Okay," the commoner said, reaching the door of her interrogation room and glancing over her shoulder. "Goodbye, then."

Their response was lost as the door clicked shut and Haruhi stared at the man who still sat in much the same space as he had twenty minutes ago. Kyouya flashed her a pleasant smile and swung his feet off of the table as she sat down. "More questions?"

"Yes."

"Tamaki confirm it?"

She grudgingly nodded, not trusting her mouth to communicate her masked feelings. Kyouya seemed pleased with this, and nodded slightly. Indeed, a great deal of their conversation seemed to be compiled of nods and smirks, and Haruhi was getting sick of it. She wanted more answers.

"You said that Kaoru came to visit you after he was attacked. What happened then?"

"We broke up."

"You…you what?!"

"We broke up," Kyouya supplied. "I told him that I did not want a romantic relationship, and that this…thing we had should be centered around sex. That way, he could be safer in his work place—you know, do his business without the fear of abuse or attacks."

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Kyouya was furious. He was actually far beyond furious, but that was the best adjective to describe what he was. There was no way—no way in hell that the maniac that had done this to the teenager in front of him would ever be allowed to walk nor wake up, unless he was six feet under and screaming for help that would never come. His feet traveled the expanse of the hospital closet's tiled floor with renewed vigor as images of what he could be doing to the attacker flashed through his mind, hands unfurling and clenching with thoughts of where he would hit that man if he ever saw him again.

The twins watched his wearily, Hikaru dabbing one of the many cuts and scratches on Kaoru's knees with an iodine wipe while the younger did his best to keep gauze clutched to his lip, on which the split had reopened and started to bleed again, and also keep a travel first aid ice pack pressed to the goose egg that was rapidly forming on his forehead. The two had made it to the hospital entrance with record time, the elder more than half carrying the younger by that time. One could call it a stroke of luck that the first person they had met (or rather, run into) was none other than the tall brunette owner of the place, who had taken one look at the pair and rushed them both to this closet. If this wasn't unorthodox, than there was nothing that was.

Kaoru's eyes spun for the third time that evening, his body resisting passing out from the mixture of head trauma and fumes from the iodine. "Can't I have anything stronger than Tylenol?" he asked in a woozy voice.

Kyouya stopped pacing and shook his head gravely. "I can't get you anything stronger without actually making you my patient."

"Than how'd you manage to get him fucking Xanax?!" Hikaru demanded, his tone dripping with distaste and contempt. "That's a hell of a lot stronger than those baby painkillers you gave my brother."

What little light there was in the room flashed off of the Ootori's glasses and he directed a glare towards the unbruised and angry looking Hitachiin as he folded both arms securely across his chest. "If you must know, that wasn't me pulling strings. It was a simple slip up. The nursing staff worked deranged hours, and when one mixed up the orders of a man who had already died and one that was living, the medicine would have simply gone to waste. Why let it be thrown away when the order could very easily be…re-written."

Amber eyes gawked at him. "I never pegged you for a trafficker."

"I'm not—that was a one time thing, and I don't see how giving away will harm anyone."

"Well, it obviously did enough damage, didn't it—"

"Will you two shut up," Kaoru begged, biting his tongue as pain surged through his brain and white and black threatened his vision from either side. "Please. It's hard enough not screaming as it is, and with you two doing it, this whole thing is doubly worse." It was enough to silence both the standing figures for a split second, the small lamp above them swinging back and forth the slightest bit, and casting elaborate and distinctively eerie shadows over all their faces, but soon enough the silence was broken.

"I don't see how you can stand him," Hikaru snarled, baring his teeth in the iridescent light and snapping his eyes towards Kyouya with distaste. "He sounds, dresses and even smells just like the rest of them—and I thought we hated them together."

"He's—he's not like them…He's different! I swear it. Hikaru, I thought you said you liked him!" Kaoru's tone was mournful and demeaning; it echoed off the walls in a childish and whining quality that would make many nannies scream if employed often. "You…you said that he wasn't all that bad."

"That was before this."

"There's nothing that Kyouya could have done about this, Hikaru. Nothing you could either, if I recall—stop trying to pin the god dammed blame on someone who's trying to help me."

Hikaru flinched. It should have been "us", not me…But it wasn't us… He turned his eyes away, glaring at a chink in the tile that bore no face to torment him with conflicting emotions and employing wants. Teeth gnashed relentlessly at his lower lip and moisture that the elder Hitachiin refused to attribute to tears welled in the corners of his eyes. Willing his voice not to split and betray feelings that should have been hidden, he opened his mouth. "I'm not—but I still don't like him. Why the fucking hell do you two stand to be happy when everything is so shitty around you?"

There was silence. Kaoru didn't have an answer that was impartial and wouldn't hurt his brother anymore than the other already was—in fact, the only one that floated to mind was the simplest and saddest one—because, after all this, I deserve it. And Kyouya had no plans to take part in the minor, brotherly spat that was taking place before him, content to watch as conflicting thoughts raced each other around the inner crevasse of his mind like dogs at a horse race—completely out of place.

The quiet stretched on, even as someone rattled the door knob outside of the closet in a vain attempt to be granted access. Even as the older of the twin's breathing became uneven and ragged with raw and unrestrained emotion and hurt. And even as the ice pack that was pressed to the younger twin's head gradually became room temperature, no one spoke.

And then…

"Kaoru, I don't think I should see you anymore."

He jerked upright, dropping the bloodstained gauze and flicking amber eyes towards his lover. "Excuse me?" His mouth was parted in dry apprehension. Had he really heard the brunette man clearly?

This had also attracted the undivided attention of Hikaru, whose eyes were narrowed and cheeks flushed, but gaze ferocious. Any weaker man would have quailed under the stare, but Kyouya—set in his pathway—did not even spare it a second look.

"I don't think it wise for us to see each other anymore," he repeated, before elaborating in that same dead tone he'd often used for business meetings. "As lovers. Customer and host is a completely different matter, however, and one much less…critical…"

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"Hold on a second," Haruhi interrupted blandly. "I thought that you said you loved him. There's no reason for you to go back on your word unless…" her gaze darkened. "Are you lying to me again, Ootori?"

A single hand was prostrated forward in a sign of submission and resignation. "If I were you, I'd think more carefully before you insult me. Might as well knock on wood, Haruhi. If you keep thinking that I'm lying, I might just be tempted to do it some more—but as it was; I am not lying about what I said to him."

She didn't believe him, but couldn't really voice her opinion as an impartial third party. She did nothing but look down and demand, "Continue."

"Alright, then don't interrupt."

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His lower lip quivered and eyes watered, weather from the throbbing pain that began to thump in his head. "You're…you're dumping me?"

"Of a sorts," Kyouya offered, his voice one tone and imperative—a great mask. "I'm not familiar with the etiquette of your crowd, but I'm not sure if we were ever close enough to be considered 'dating'. Wouldn't you say?"

Hikaru looked like he wanted to hit him, and Kaoru looked ready to vomit.

"How…how the hell do you get off on doing that, you sick freak!" Hikaru yelled dramatically, spit flying and hair that seemed to stand on end with pure angered energy. "You barge in here and make yourself comfortable, and then you just up and fucking leave?!? Just who do you think you are, Ootori!! You're not that fucking special." He started forward, as if to hit the man, but a dripping and possessive hand found its way to fist in his tee-shirted chest. Glancing down, all attention was diverted to the red headed Hitachiin twin, whose head was bowed in general defeat and perhaps depression.

"So…so you don't want me?"

"More of the baggage, Kaoru," Kyouya elaborated. "You come with a lot of dead weight—your brother, for one," Hikaru was motioned to, "Is only one of the problems. Under any other circumstances and backgrounds, things would have been different. But…" he left the sentence hanging.

A hitched breath was drawn, one that seemed to rattle in his lungs, and tears flew with lightning speed towards his eyes, down his cheeks and gathered under his chin to drip mercilessly on the floor. "You…you don't mean that," he managed to force out, attempting to stand, and using Hikaru's arm to try again when he failed the first time. "You…you can't mean that, Kyouya…I thought—you said that you wouldn't leave me."

"Kaoru, hookers are rented items, and the last time that I checked, it's rather hard to buy one out of the depression, let alone nurse them back." His tone was not snide, simply matter of fact, and both twins knew what he was saying to be true, although they did not want to admit it. "But, as you pointed out, I did promise that I wouldn't leave you. Do you remember what else I said when I told you that?"

His lower lip trembled as amber eyes darted left and right, trying to remember. When Kaoru finally did speak, all he could muster was a single word. "No."

"What's your fucking point, Ootori?!" Hikaru demanded, his voice growing in volume. "Why don't you just stay the hell away from us, huh?! We would have been just fine without you—better, even! Fuck you!!! You slimy bastard! Why did you barge into our world just to fucking hurt us!?!" Rage was visibly in the way hands trembled to clench at the fabric of his baggy sweatshirt, gripping and pulling shamelessly in an attempt to rid himself of some burning affliction.

"If you remembered," Kyouya continued calmly, eying Hikaru with apprehension. "I told you two things that night, and I don't blame you for falling asleep as I told you. I said 'I'll never leave you, you know that? If anything, I will help you get out so that we can both leave'." Silence. "Does that strike a cord, then?"

Kaoru refused to look at him, opting for the floor as he began moving towards the door. He paused a foot from his(…ex…?)lover, glancing at him from under the fringe of his hair with watery and somewhat defiant eyes. "No, they don't. And if that is what you said, then I don't see how breaking my h-heart is going to help." His voice peaked and broke with tension before the red head fell silent. He did not move, nor speak, and all that was heard in the small room was the outside commotion of the hospital outside and the elder of the twins stressed breathing.

There was a sort of sad smile offered and Kyouya's hand twitched as if to reach out and brush the hair from the boy's face. But both palms remained firmly by his side, offering no comfort to the younger. It was a pitiful scene. "You'll see," he said, if only to break the silence. And with that, he left the closet, and two red headed teens—one crying and he other standing like a statue, if only rock should shake with anger.

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Kyouya took off his glasses and polished them on the fabric of his shirt, straightening his mouth into a thin and straight line. He looked unwilling to continue, but forced himself to anyway. "I…I didn't want to," he told her. "It was something I had been thinking about for a long time before, but I never really wanted to."

"Your intentions were to simplify your relationship with him so as to cause no need for jealousy?" she asked, suppressing the mothering sensation that spread through her at the thought of the selfless act. Perhaps…perhaps he was not a murderer, but a simple emotionless man. "That's…valiant. But you continued to see him?"

"Generally, yes, but it was…awkward, to say the least. I enjoyed his company before things became tense and…" Kyouya's eyes seemed to glaze over as he suddenly thought of something. In a much different voice, once laced with about as much curiosity as Anthony Hopkins portrayed as Hannibal Lector, asked, "How did he die?"

Die? Why would he want to know that? Haruhi shuffled through the papers, searching for the medical examiner's report on the body, extracting the sheet of paper with little ease. "He was strangled."

"Strangled, eh…How plain…" She did not entirely understand what Kyouya meant by plain, and couldn't really ask. She wasn't given the opportunity as the brunette kept talking. "With what?"

"That's sick, Ootori!" Haruhi accused, her temper flaring violently and eyes flashing. "Why the hell do you want to know?!"

Kyouya shrugged. "No reason…Just curious…"

There was silence. One party was waiting for the other to continue with the story, and the other waiting for the other to buckle and give over the information that he had asked for. Even from the other side of the extremely thick interrogation room, the screams of a detoxing baby and her mother could be heard before the two were too far away from the section of the building they had started in, and even then, the buzz of the copy machine and the ringing of the phones seemed to echo and bounce off the wall with renewed vigor that made the sounds ten times louder than originally.

"With panty hoes."

"See, that wasn't that hard."

"Shut up…Continue with the story."

"I'll never be able to continue if I shut up."

Haruhi glared and Kyouya pushed his glasses up his nose, smiling.

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Hikaru could barely keep up with his brother as Kaoru ran. Well, he hobbled, more accurately. Together, their feet pounded against somewhat frosted street sidewalk, slipping once or twice, but never ceasing in their relentless trek. Hikaru knew, for a fact, that his own breath was twisting upwards in long tendrils of stream, and he could see Kaoru's streaming into his face, and the audible sound of sobs reached him through clenched teeth.

"Kaoru!" He called. "Kaoru, wait up!" He received no answer and, quickening his pace, Hikaru's feet met a patch of particularly icy patch of sidewalk and scrambled out from under him. The red head landed partially in the gutter and his lower half splayed across the somewhat deserted backstreet of the Ootori hospital placement. He gasped before the pain hit like a title wave. "Goddammit!! Kaoru!!"

But the younger red head was gone, still running and oblivious to his brother's cry, only accompanying it with his own pained cry, but this one more of a scream. He screamed as he rounded the corner, and slipped himself, only to get up and continue to limp as he cried.

Hikaru sat up in the gutter, feeling his heart plummeting with every step Kaoru took away from him. He wanted to kill Kyouya—the heartless bastard! Who did he think he was, toying with their emotions? Power wasn't everything! Hikaru had known whores that had killed their lovers for getting over controlling in bed and other places, but somehow…he didn't think that Kaoru had that in him.

He tried to stand, but couldn't seem to make his legs work, and when they finally lifted himself off of the cement, it was to only crumple back as his left ankle—the one he had slipped on in the beginning—crumpled and sent him sprawling again. But Hikaru didn't feel the pain. Somehow, the only pain he felt at the moment was the powerful, heavy and hot pain and sadness that pounded in the entirety of his body. It felt like heart break.

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When Hikaru arrived at his home later, his ankle in a makeshift cast from the free clinic, the whole house was dark and there was no sound other than the rhythmic thump-thump coming from his parent's bedroom. His mother wasn't home, either. Trying his best to ignore it, he closed the door with a quiet click, and slipped through the hallway like the shadows that engulfed it. His bedroom, however, was past his parents, but the door was thankfully closed.

Kaoru would be there. He had to be. Hikaru had gone to his work first, and he wasn't there, so home was the only reasonable answer. He had to be there. Hikaru could comfort him there.

He placed both hands on the wood of the door, searching as if he could feel his brother's presence from the other side before he pushed the thin barrier open. At first, he couldn't see anything—the lack of light seemed to make everything blur together, but after a few seconds of just standing there, he could clearly make out a lump curled in the material of the dirty, rumpled be cloths. It was Kaoru. He was there.

Hikaru breathed a sigh of relief. At least he was safe.

Crossing the bedroom—tripping over various piles of cloths, magazines and empty soda cans as he went—the elder of the Hitachiin twins perched himself on the edge of the bed carefully, trying his best not to disturb the younger, who for appearances sake, seemed to be sleeping. However, the hitched and somewhat uneven nature of his breathing lead Hikaru to argue that Kaoru was not sleeping, and thus deem it appropriate to run his fingers through his twins hair.

"Kaoru?"

There was no answer but the minor shift under the blankets. Hikaru allowed his hand to move from the reddish locks down to the shoulder, tightening to assure the other that he wasn't going anywhere.

"Kaoru, please?"

"Please what?" He sounded as if he had a bad head cold that had his nose congested and didn't even bother to turn over and show the puffy red eyes that seemed to voice their existence in his demeanor.

"Talk to me," Hikaru practically begged, his hand withdrawing from the other and hanging it, suspended in the air. "Please…I know you cared for that dick before and I know that it hurts because—" I feel like I'm losing you "—we're loosing mom and dad, and the only difference is the rate at which we're…"

Kaoru sat up, his back to his twin, and there were several rattling breaths in which the elder of the twins knew for certain that something was wrong with the other. "He…he called me before you got home."

"What, who? Your boss?"

"Kyouya."

Amber eyes narrowed dangerously and his voice drowned the other in anger. "What did he want?"

A sniffle, and then Kaoru finally faced his brother, eyes red, face ruddy and tear trails running freely down his face. And smiling. "He says he wants to help."

Tada!! This took a different turn than I last expected--I wanted to play out these event sin further detail, but real authors shoot for shortness, not long. So, I hope that the story will still be as long as I wanted to and have the same events, but perhaps in fewer chapters. Anyway, enjoy! Drop reviews! Ect...