CHAPTER 5

Kyoya's POV

The next day I acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary, despite having seen Miss Konanawa run hunched all the way back to her room. I had heard her vomiting periodically throughout the night, but didn't dare speak of it; if she knew I was residing in the room adjacent to hers my father's plan would be ruined.

"Good morning, Miss Konanawa," I greeted her the next morning in our first period class. She grunted in acknowledgement while she distastefully unpacked her school supplies, obviously not happy that I was conversing with her. "Did you sleep well?"

"You don't really care, so I won't answer," she said, cutting, as usual, straight to the bone.

"Hm," I hummed, turning to face the front of the classroom. Our teacher entered and began the lesson.

When class was over I begrudgingly escorted her to our next period, then to the next, and to the next, until she was finally able to evade me when I tried to escort her to lunch. She was easy to pinpoint in the lunchroom, being the only black blob in a sea of pastel colors. I walked over to her with my tray and politely asked if she would like to sit with the Host Club and me.

"Fuck off," was her response.

"I am not going to 'fuck off' until you give me a reason as to why," I told her.

"Because I don't like you."

"Fair enough," I said, going to sit with the Host Club.

Upon placing my tray on the table and sitting down I was bombarded with questions from Honey and the twins.

"Who is she?"

"What did she tell you?"

"What's her name?"

"Are you two dating?"

"She just told me to – cover Honey's ears, please, Mori," I said and Mori placed his hands over Honey's ears. "She just told me to 'fuck off,' so we're not dating."

Mori uncovered Honey's ears.

"I could still hear you, you know," Honey said. I sighed and pushed up my glasses.

"To answer your questions her name is Oleander or 'Andi' Konanawa, she is here in Japan to partake of a drug trial, and no, we are not dating. I do believe she hates me, actually. She's becoming more and more belligerent as time goes on," I said, unwrapping my chopsticks from their napkin and placing the fabric in my lap.

"Why is she sitting over there by herself?" one of the twins asked.

"We should ask her to join us!" piped Honey. Tamaki said nothing, instead opting to view his new bruise in the reflection on a spoon.

"I already asked her to eat with us," I told them. "She declined the offer."

"Kyoya-senpai," Harhui began, "if she hates you so much, why do you insist on hanging out with her?"

"Well, my father has asked me to keep an eye on her."

"Why?"

I glanced over at Miss Konanawa. She had placed her head on the table and crossed her arms to shield her eyes.

"I wish I knew," I answered, slightly aggravated at the fact. "But that information is, apparently, a secret of the Ootori company."

Haruhi let out a little "oh" before going back to her food, not pressing any further.

I noticed a small commotion out of the corner of my eye. The Host Club and I turned our heads to see a small group of students surrounding Miss Konanawa, all of them asking questions about her life.

"You're so pale! Where are you from?"

"Why aren't you wearing the uniform? Can you afford it?"

"Are you an honor student?"

Miss Konanawa's normal deadpan expression was now one of decided nervousness. Something on her back shook and she stood straight up, eyes wide.

"I need to go," she said before bolting out of the room.

The twins were the first to turn their attention back to the group.

"What was that about?" they asked.

"And what was that on her back?" Haruhi added.

I had no idea. My jaw was locked so tightly that I doubted I would have been able to give them a response if I had one. I finally managed to speak, telling the Host Club that I'd be right back, that I was going to check on Miss Konanawa.

"Do you know where she went?" Honey-senpai asked.

"I have a good idea," I answered before I stood and left, leaving my food all but untouched.

I walked briskly out of the dining hall and towards Music Room 3. Upon arriving I heard loud piano music coming through the closed doors. She was there.

I opened the door just barely, poking my head in through the crack. Miss Konanawa sat at the large white piano with her hands moving harshly over the keys. She was in the middle of a frenzy and I knew better than to disturb her, so I closed the door and began walking back to the cafeteria.

The rest of the day passed quickly: classes, the Host Club, balancing finances, etc. And just like the previous night I found myself wandering the halls of Ouran to calm my racing mind. When I got to the Host Club's room I heard music again, this time the strumming of a guitar.

Someone with an incredible gift was playing the guitar in the Host Club's room; the strums were interspersed with single strings and gentle pats to the guitar's body. I opened the door and – there was Miss Konanawa sitting on one of the Host Club's couches with a guitar draped over her lap, her fingers dancing over the strings and frets. She was so absorbed in the music that she didn't notice the slight creak of the hinges as I peeked through the crack in the doorway.

I closed the door and slid down the wall, coming to sit on the floor with my arms resting on my splayed knees. I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes. Soon enough I was just as absorbed in the music as Miss Konanawa.

Andi's POV

The rest of the day was uneventful: I went to classes, threatened the Ootori boy, and went back to my dormitory at the end of the day. The only thing I wished I could have done was gotten an instrument from the music room and brought it back with me. So at around nine that night, when I was sure nobody else was in the school, I walked back to Music Room 3.

Unlike in the daytime, when it was used as a rich boy petting zoo, the room was eerily quiet at night; relaxingly so, in my opinion. After copious time spent searching I found a door leading to an adjacent room, this room obviously a store room for musical instruments. I immediately knew that this was where I would be spending most of my nights at Ouran. This room was filled to the brim with sitars and drums and xylophones and upright basses and violins and violas and cellos and every musical instrument known to man, with amplifiers and MIDI keyboards and a shelf dedicated to music producing computer programs, with entire shelves stocked with just sheet music. As I excitedly browsed through the selection of instruments I came across the guitar section and I was smitten.

There was one guitar, a Seagull flanked by a Grestch and a Fender, that was so magnificent in its pale driftwood beauty that I had to try it. I took it off the wall and strummed a chord and fell in love.

I took it back into the main room and plopped down on one of the petting zoo's couches facing away from the door. Draping the guitar across my lap I began to play, losing all concept of time.

I only thought to put the guitar up when the early-morning sun began to peek through the window. I quickly tucked the instrument back onto the wall and rushed back to my room for a shower before changing into new clothes and heading to the dining hall for breakfast. I got my tray of rice and other foods that wouldn't be on the breakfast table in America and found myself a seat in a windowless corner of the room as several students filed in.

To my surprise the Ootori boy was one of those students.

He got his tray, thanked the woman serving him, and searched for a spot. To my dismay he spotted me; to my consolation he sighed in displeasure he came over.

He placed his tray across from me and unwrapped his chopsticks before sitting down and placing the napkin on his lap. I sighed.

"Why?" I asked simply.

"Because, as a representative of the Ootori Company-"

"You are not a representative of your family's company. You are seventeen goddamn years old," I groaned. "In America we don't have high school students working for corporate companies."

"We do things differently in Japan than in America," he said.

"And it's not always a good thing."

"America is not infallible."

"We've had at least three economic crashes in the history of the Federal Reserve. I know it's not infallible."

He sighed and did something over his food – a prayer? – before taking a bite of rice. I held my head in my hands to ward off a headache. I should have slept the previous night.

When I was confident that I wasn't going to get a headache I grabbed my chopsticks and positioned them awkwardly in my hand. Kyoya eyed me strangely.

"I'm used to forks, asshole," I snapped. "Don't judge me."

"I'm not judging you," he said.

"I'm not blind. I can see you judging me."

"I am not in a position to judge, seeing as I would probably hold a fork in a similar manner."

"But you are human, I'm guessing," I said. "Humans judge whether they should or not."

"Maybe Americans do."

I shrugged and struggled to bring a bite of rice to my mouth, dropping several grains in the process. I glared at them.

"Here."

Suddenly there was a hand on mine, repositioning my chopsticks. I looked up to see that the Ootori boy had reached over the table to assist me.

"Thanks," I said reluctantly.

He didn't say anything as he retracted his hand and wiped it on his napkin. I should have been offended, but I wasn't for some reason.

We ate in silence for several minutes, neither of us looking up from our food, presumably because neither of us could stomach so much as looking at each other for prolonged expanses of time.

Suddenly there was a loud voice.

"Kyoya!" a blonde boy yelled from across the room. Nobody but me so much as looked up. The Ootori closed his eyes and exhaled roughly, almost like he had been punched.

As the blonde boy came closer I noticed that he had a large bruise on his face. It was the same asshole I had punched in the petting zoo two days earlier.

"Kyoya!" he exclaimed as he excitedly pulled the Ootori boy in for a hug. "I missed you!"

"It's been less than twenty-four hours," I said, dumbfounded at this boy's display of affection.

The blonde boy finally noticed me, his head whipping around to face me and eyes going wide. He suddenly let go of the Kyoya and cowered behind two other boys that I hadn't noticed were there – the twins who had accosted me for punching this boy. I was astounded at how dramatic the boy was.

I turned to the Ootori boy.

"What-" I began.

"This," he interrupted, gesturing to the boy cowering behind the twins, "is Tamaki Suoh, the son of the school's superintendent."

I was expecting him to remain cowered behind the boys, but instead he hesitantly came out from his hiding spot and offered me his hand.

"I remember that you're British, and the British shake hands instead of bowing!" he said brightly. Too brightly. He was faking it.

I hesitantly shook his hand once before dropping my own.

"These are Hikaru and Kaoru Hitachiin," the Ootori boy said. The twins smirked at each other before offering their hands to me.

Something was up.

I carefully went to shake one of the boys' hands when the other grabbed me by my other arm and pulled me out of my seat. They grabbed me under my arms and began pulling towards some unknown location, and they were pulling at lightning speed.

"What the fuck?" I said in English.

"We'll be back, Kyoya-senpai!" they called as they pulled me out into the hallway.

"What are you doing?" I almost yelled as I struggled to get my footing.

"Playing with our new toy," one of them snickered.

"If this is some kink you two have-"

"It's not about sex," the other said.

"Well, maybe a little bit," the first countered with a wicked grin.

"Absolutely fucking not," I grunted as I finally found my footing.

I unhooked my arms from theirs and kicked one of the twins in the face before doubling back and round-housing the other. As they lay groaning on the ground, each holding their cheeks, I glared down at them.

"Alright, you two," I growled. "I am going to go back to my breakfast, and I am going to eat it. In peace. Do we have an agreement?"

They both nodded their heads furiously and I turned to leave. Then I heard-

"Hikaru," one pathetic voice said, "are you alright?"

"Am I alright? I should be asking you that."

"But… I was more worried about you."

I turned back to look at the display they were putting on. They were leaning on their elbows towards each other, one of them with his hand on his twin's cheek.

"Oh, Hikaru.

"Kaoru-"

"What the fuck?" I repeated.

They looked to me in mild shock.

"You're not falling all over us," they said.

"I don't masturbate to the thought of twins fucking," I said bluntly.

They blinked before bursting into loud laughter.

"I like you," one of them said as he sat up.

They helped each other up before legitimately offering their hands to me. I shook them, each in turn, and eyed them suspiciously.

"What were you planning to do to me?" I asked.

They snickered.

"Our mother is a fashion designer," one began.

"We were going to force you into a dress," the other began.

I almost shuddered at the thought. That would have been disastrous.