Chapter 18:

"That was…impressive Sayuri-san." Kyoya remarked from his place across from her, where he had been watching and listening to the entire scene.

"Ah, I apologize Kyoya-senpai that you had to witness such a scandalous scene." She replied with a forced apologetic smile.

"No, quite all right. You handled it rather well."

"Yes… Thank you…" She murmured as she picked up her glass of tea but then pursed her lips in distaste before she even tasted it. "I'm sorry, but could we perhaps find dessert elsewhere? A change of scenery would be nice."

"Of course." He replied smoothly, standing from his seat to hold out her own chair.

They paused at the front desk as Sayuri spoke to the host and reiterated her instructions for the two patrons to be black listed and to send Nitta-sama a list of guests who witnessed the scene. Then they were gone.

The driver pulled out, not heading in any particular direction for his passengers hadn't yet specified, and he knew better than to disturb them. Sadly though, Sayuri had completely forgotten and was currently looking blankly out of her tinted window, making Kyoya wonder if he should try and ask her what was wrong. But his thought was stalled as he saw her shoulders suddenly tense as if she had just recalled something and she caught his eye before forcing a polite smile.

"I'm sorry senpai, I didn't ask where you would like to have dessert. I know you don't care for sweet things much, but there must be so-" She was halted by a raised finger as he pushed the com button and said to the driver, "Take us to Suimei Plaza."

"What's at Suimei plaza senpai?" She asked with cheerfulness.

For a moment Kyoya didn't even turn to look at her before finally stating, "I've never experienced the feeling of being hosted. I don't quite understand why girls keep coming back if this is what it's like. Perhaps they can't see how forced most of it really is…" He paused and let that sink in as Sayuri started fidgeting and looked away.

"I understand why you are doing it. Why everyone does it including myself. But I want to assure you that I do not want that in my fiancée or wife Sayuri-san." He caught her gaze and held it before continuing. "Perhaps you feel that you cannot be yourself in front of me for obvious reasons, but I can assure you that if I detested you that strongly, I would have done something to break the engagement already. So I ask you not to treat me as one of your customers or clients. If we cannot find love in each other, then perhaps friendship would be possible?"

Sayuri drew in a breath slowly and was about to speak, her face cool and every bit the picture of her mother. Before she hesitated and smiled sadly and nodded with a small sigh. "I'm afraid that I don't know how to play this game senpai."

"Perhaps we can figure out the rules together." He replied, resting his hand reassuringly on hers for a moment before glancing out his window. "It appears we have arrived. I hope you like ice cream."

He stepped out of the limo when the driver opened the door, and turned to offer his hand to her. They entered a fairly classy ice cream parlor, but of course still caused a scene due to their formal attire. They spent almost twenty minutes just attempting to decide what ice cream to get before they finally went back to the limo, sundaes in hand.

"Hehehee, I can't believe you didn't know what cookie dough ice cream was! Mmn…" Sayuri's eyes closed in ecstasy as she swallowed that very flavor. She had gotten her favorite two flavors, cookie dough and pistachio, which she made Kyoya try also. His sundae consisted of pistachio and mint chocolate chip, but he was mostly eating around the chocolate chips.

"I haven't had ice cream in a long time." He stated as he took another bite.

"Me neither! Mother always has me eating so healthy all the time, but to miss this is a crime. Aw, you aren't going to eat your chocolate? It's the best part!"

He smirked and held out a spoon with the offending condiment towards her face, "Then you may have it."

Sayuri leaned forward and took the spoon in her mouth, swallowing the chocolate chips hole and leaving the spoon clean as she licked her lips and sat back to enjoy her own sundae.

Kyoya blinked at this before letting out a small chuckle and continuing eating. They had ordered their driver to simply drive wherever he wanted and not bother him. Honestly right there in the back of the limo was probably the most comfortable place they could be as no one was watching or listening to them.

For a while they talked about completely frivolous things, such as their friends and odd goings on around school, Sayuri's plan to beat Ephriham at archery, Kyoya's odd thoughts about the host club and so on. Sometime in the midst of this, Sayuri had kicked off her heels and placed her insanely long gloves on a spare seat, and Kyoya had loosened but not completely removed his tie.

They had shifted from the very back of the limo to one of its sides so they could observe people and places that they passed and stopped by through the one way windows. The conversation came round to the beginning of their evening as Kyoya asked, "So was it just that you didn't like the ballet or are you a devout fan of the orchestra that performed tonight?"

Sayuri scoffed, "Oh I like ballet just fine, after all I'm taking enough classes on it. But why, do you detest classical music that much senpai? I never figured you for a rock and roll fan." She teased.

"Oh of course, I'm surprised you didn't know." He stated coolly, making her giggle. "But no, I rather enjoyed the performance tonight. …Especially that beginning piece. Debussy was it not?" He inquired innocently with his best and brightest host smile on.

Sayuri blushed and spluttered on her dessert, having to clear her throat before protesting, "Hey you started it."

Kyoya was about to reply back when the limo made a rather sudden stop, causing them both to lurch backwards (or forwards to Kyoya). Their mostly eaten sundae cups went tumbling to the floor, forgotten as they stared at each other, their faces only inches apart as his hand pressed down on the leather by her head and clutched at the seat's back with his other, the only thing holding him up from pressing his body against hers as she lay out on the seat. Seconds passed as he breathed in her soft scent and she his own musk. Her face was a blank mask of innocence and captivation, not starting anything and yet certainly not pushing him away, simply staring up vulnerably at him.