CHAPTER 8

Kyoya's POV

I couldn't find Miss Konanawa after breakfast. I saw her in our classes, but she managed to avoid me in between them; she even managed to avoid the twins. I still had no idea why she had run off in the manner she had.

I was able to catch her after school as she made her way to her room.

"Miss Konanawa," I said. She whirled around with her fist in the air, ready to strike. When she saw that it was me she lowered her arm and sighed.

"What is it, Ootori?" she asked. "And I really prefer to be called Andi."

"Miss Konanawa, I was wondering why you ran off during breakfast this morning," I said. I was starting to think that I was only calling her Miss Konanawa to spite her.

She immediately looked uncomfortable, grabbing the crook of her elbow and looking away.

"I knew the girl who ran KonaMusic," she said quietly. "She died in an explosion last year."

"And you ran off because the memories were too painful for you," I inferred. She nodded her head before looking back at me.

"I get… anxiety attacks," she said slowly. "I don't get them as often as I used to, but I still get them. I ran off because I could feel one coming on and I didn't want anyone to see it."

"I see."

She looked and sounded more vulnerable than I had ever witnessed her, and I was immediately concerned that she would cut herself again. If she were to do that under my watch I would undoubtedly lose favor with my father.

"Come to the Host Club with me," I said.

Her eyes hardened back to their normal intensity.

"No way in hell, Ootori," she scoffed. "I'm not interested in sitting in on your rich boy petting zoo."

"As a representative of the Ootori Company-"

"Stop that."

"- I feel it is my duty to look after you in this time of vulnerability-"

"I'm not vulnerable."

"- and because I need to go to the Host Club, I require you to come with me if I am to watch over you."

"I'm a big girl," she said. "I can take care of myself."

I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose and inhaled.

"Would you please come to the Host Club with me?" I asked, swallowing my pride and the lump in my throat.

She closed her eyes and sighed.

"Fine," she capitulated. "I'll go to your stupid petting zoo. But I'm not going to sit with the hosts."

"You can sit with me," I offered coolly, not really liking the idea but needing to keep an eye on her.

"Sure. Just let me get something from my room and I'll be back."

I followed her to her room, pretending like I didn't know the way already, and watched her rifle through her drawers until she came up with a notebook and several pencils. She came out of her room and closed the door before following me back to the Host Club's room.

When we got back to Music Room 3 we were greeted by a normal day of Club Activities: Tamaki was successfully wooing clients, Honey-senpai was eating cake while Mori silently watched him, the twins were fawning all over each other, and Haruhi was cleaning up a broken teacup. I led Miss Konanawa to my table and set my satchel on the ground. She sat in the chair opposite mine and opened her notebook, a notebook which I soon noticed was filled with blank music staffs.

She wrote her own music. I made a mental note of that before opening my laptop.

Not ten minutes since walking into the Host Club's room Honey-senpai approached our table, Mori right behind him. Honey walked over to Miss Konanawa and tugged on her pant leg. She looked down.

"Hi!" he chirped. "I'm Honey!"

"H-hi," Miss Konanawa stammered, obviously not used to people approaching her. "I'm Andi."

Honey stuck out his hand and she shook it.

"This is my cousin, Mori!" Honey introduced our silent host. He and Miss Konanawa shook hands, the latter surreptitiously wiping her sweaty palm on her pant leg.

"It's nice to meet you both," Miss Konanawa said, uncharacteristically quiet and reserved. "Why exactly did you come to introduce yourselves?"

Honey motioned for her to lean down.

"We wanted to say that you have a good right hook," he whispered, motioning to Tamaki.

For the first time I heard Miss Konanawa laugh. Quiet though it was, it was still a laugh, and it somehow suited her.

"Thank you," she said.

"We heard you were from America," Honey said. "Why are you here in Japan?"

She looked decidedly more uncomfortable, but she spoke anyway.

"I'm here to take part in a drug trial," she said.

"Is it being run by Kyo-chan's family?"

"Yes."

Honey may have looked like a child, but he was actually the oldest Host. At that moment he looked more mature than I had ever seen him, regardless of whether he was squeezing Usa-chan. He must have been picking up on the discomfort that Miss Konanawa was feeling. He didn't push the subject of the drug trial any further; however, the subject he brought up next was, I believed, an even worse topic.

"Did Tamaki show you KonaMusic? He's been showing everybody."

Miss Konanawa's forced smile slipped from her face and she covered her mouth. She looked like she was going to be sick.

"Yeah," she breathed. "I'll be right back."

She bolted from the room, tripping over her own feet periodically and holding her hand over her mouth. Honey-senpai looked at me confusedly.

"What did I say?" he asked.

"Miss Konanawa knew the girl who ran the channel," I explained. "She died in an explosion."

The host's face fell.

"Oh," he said sadly. "I didn't know."

"What!?" I heard Tamaki yell. He was suddenly right beside me, his hand placed dramatically on his forehead. "KonaMusic is dead? How tragic!"

Honey-senpai solemnly nodded. Tamaki, with dramatic tears in his eyes, scanned the room. I could feel his gaze come to rest on Miss Konanawa's notebook. The tears instantly dried and his face lit up. I marveled at how quickly his moods could change.

"Is that music?" he whispered excitedly. "I didn't know Miss Konanawa wrote music! I should play it!"

"You know very well how much the girl values her privacy," I said.

"I agree with Kyo-chan. I wouldn't play it, Tama-chan," said Honey-senpai.

"Nonsense!" Tamaki proclaimed. "I will reveal her talents to the world!"

"Tama-chan-"

It was too late. Tamaki already had the notebook in his hands and was racing to the piano. He set the notebook on the instrument and flipped to the front page before gingerly pressing his fingers to the keys.

"Tama-chan," Honey-senpai warned.

He began to play.

I considered myself to be a cultured individual; I could speak three languages fluently, I attended the premier high school in the country, I had attended innumerable high-society gatherings, I could list at least thirty operas that I had seen, and I was familiar with European, Japanese, and American musical composers. None of those composers had ever made me falter in my work, but I had to stop typing in order to listen to Miss Konanawa's piece.

This piece was powerful and forceful and it commanded the attention of everyone in the room, including myself. Even Tamaki himself was moved by the force of the music, his eyes going wide at every note he played. By the time he was done the room was dead silent.

Until-

"You son of a bitch!"

She said it in English, but Tamaki got the message. Miss Konanawa, back from her anxiety attack and looking significantly paler, advanced upon him and snatched her notebook from the music stand. Tamaki was immediately blubbering with apologies and other words about how he thought she would like it to be played, how music was a public thing.

"My music is very personal to me," she growled, clutching her notebook to her chest. "If you ever play it again without my permission I will personally make you incapable of procreating. Are we clear?"

He nodded quickly, all blood draining from his face at the prospect of disfigured genitals.

Miss Konanawa came back to her seat across from me and gathered her pencils.

"I would have stayed, just so you know," she told me.

She stormed out of the room, letting the doors slam behind her as we all stared after her. I was the first to break the silence with a sigh. I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose and tried to concentrate on my computer screen, prompting the rest of the room to resume its previous activities.

I wondered if there was any situation from which Miss Konanawa would not find some way to extricate herself. The answer came quickly, and it was no.