CHAPTER TWO : White Tea, Black Tea
Hisoka folded and unfolded the small piece of paper in her hand repeatedly, creasing the edges and then smoothing them out until the paper seemed about to rip. Then she continued to fold it.
"Ah, Hello?"
"Masa-san, what a surprise. Do you need anything?"
"Ah, yes, actually. I was wondering if you could tell me where I can find Kyoya Ootori?"
"Oh. He's normally in music room three at this time. Were you going to request him as a host?"
The echo of a giggle shivered down the hallway, bouncing off of the glowing window panes and the tiled floor until it evaporated into the warm, stale air.
Hisoka folded the paper again, then unfolded it, taking steady steps down the hallway towards music room three. She had not intended on asking for him to host her, but now that she was thinking it through, she supposed that she could at least make it worth his time. She knew what his temperament was like, and at the very least he would be outwardly annoyed if the time that she was taking from him would have been better used getting money from gullible teenage girls.
It made him sound like some sort of prostitute.
Ri-i-ip.
Hisoka's lips curled upwards in a small smile, and she bit her tongue to keep from laughing out loud, in case someone happened to be passing by. She didn't want anyone to think she had gone crazy.
She pressed the two sides of the paper she had accidentally ripped apart together and began to fold those as they were, creasing back and forth and running the edge along in between her two of her finger nails. Well, what was left of her finger nails, at least, from her nervous gnawing on them.
It was Monday, the day after her check-up. Her doctor had talked almost exclusively with her parents about what was going to have to happen within the next couple of months, and after that her parents had taken her home, grim looking expressions on their faces. It was normal to see such an expression on her fathers face, but on her mother it looked completely unnatural. She had tried to ask questions, but they did their very best to deter her from the topic, saying that it was something that she didn't need to worry about.
They always did things like that. They didn't want Hisoka to have to worry about anything. It got severely annoying after a while.
Hisoka stood in front of the wide, tall doors of music room three. The door was carved as ornately as all of the other doors in Ouran High School, and the door knobs were polished to polite perfection. She supposed that it was meant to be inviting. She took a deep breath, folded the paper in her hands, creased the edge, and pulled open the door on the left.
There were no roses, and there was no bright light. Instead, Hisoka was hit with the sharp scent of white tea and different kinds of perfume. Light laughter fell through the doorway and spilled around Hisoka's feet, soaking through her socks and infectiously, she found herself smiling, too. There was a certain warmth about the Host Club that wasn't found in many other places at Ouran Academy.
No one looked up immediately as she came through the door and closed it gently behind her, and so she hesitated at the door, taking it all in—the delightful young woman sitting, their dresses smoothed down and their cuticles immaculate, and the Host Club members that Hisoka recognized entertaining their guests. Only one boy seemed to be more concerned with his lap top, sitting at one of the tea tables and writing with his left hand in a little black book at his side. When she didn't move for several moments he looked up, his glasses flashing silver.
Kyoya Ootori was a hard boy to miss. Not because he looked particularly out of place among the ornate walls and grandiose furniture, because he most certainly fit in with his pristine uniform and pale, smooth skin and aristocratic features. Nor because in comparison to the bright, colorful room he seemed darker than the rest of them, his eyes covered by his glasses and his dark hair, as perfect as it was, messily falling over his forehead before he pushed is back with long, spidery fingers. Hisoka thought that it must be the way he held himself.
He didn't look as though he were in the same room as everyone else. The way he held himself, it was almost like he was alone in a completely different room, surrounded by files that held everything he could ever want to know about everyone he had ever met. He watched people as though he were memorizing their every move, analyzing the way they breathed and walked and conversed. He did not look better than anyone, per say, simply more prepared.
It was for this reason that he looked so comfortable among people that he had hardly talked to. He had no need to appear uncomfortable. He knew everything about everyone, or at least as much as could possibly be written down. If anyone had one thing to threaten him with, he had a thousand things he could use in return.
Hisoka smiled and waved, and after checking to make sure the door had closed behind her, she made her way over to the Ootori boy as though they were old friends.
"Hello, Ootori-san," she smiled, and as she approached Kyoya stood from his chair and nodded to her respectively.
"Please, Masa-san. Call me Kyoya," he said silkily, a cool smile flitting over his lips as he pulled out Hisoka's chair for her. As she sat, she couldn't help but laugh.
"Well, then you must call me Hisoka, if we're going to be so familiar." She noticed that she had caught him by surprise. Not because she permitted him to call her by her first name, but because she had teased him for suggesting as such. A moment later he covered it up once again with his cool facade, and she let her lips quirk in amusement.
"My apologies, I didn't mean to over step myself." The way he said it sounded tense, and Hisoka couldn't help but smile to herself.
"No need to be so formal. I was just teasing you." Hisoka laughed lightly, and Kyoya smiled back, but it looked tighter than before, as though he had to force himself to be pleasant. He made a noise in the back of his throat in response, but said nothing more on the matter.
"Can I get you some tea?" Hisoka nodded, folding her hands on her lap the way she was taught to. The way she sat looked strange paired with her rumpled clothing and sickly pale skin. "We have Silver Needle, if that would suit your taste." Hisoka shot him a look, but he continued to watch her as though he didn't know any different. She nodded her ascent ance again, and he began to prepare the tea. She sat in silence as he worked, and finally when he was done, he brought the tray to the table with such perfection that Hisoka thought it was no wonder he was a host. He sat and poured tea for both her and himself, carefully, with easy precision that didn't surprise her.
Hisoka nodded her thanks, and took a deep drink of her own tea. As she pulled away she noticed a speck of black floating in the cup and paused before setting it down, pretending she hadn't noticed for fear of being rude.
"May I ask what brings you here?" Kyoya asked after a stint of silence. He had been watching her carefully over the rim of his own cup. He almost didn't need to ask, but did anyway for his apprehension against being rude.
"Actually, I was going to ask you a small favor." Kyoya quirked an eyebrow curiously, but it went unnoticed. Hisoka had turned her eyes down to her lap where her hands rested. "Yesterday my doctor scheduled my first—uhm... My first—" Hisoka bit her lip lightly, clenching her fingers around the pieces of paper she still held her in hands. "I'm sure you already know." She looked up through her lashes at Kyoya, and she found him watching her carefully over his glasses. He stared for a moment, then slowly pushed his glasses up his nose and leaned back in his chair. He did know. She didn't need to ask. "I was wondering if you could remind me of some of the side effects."
Hisoka waited. Kyoya smiled politely.
"Did you not think to ask your parents?" If Hisoka was a fool, she might have thought that he was being imprudent. She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She lifted her tea cup to her lips, but didn't drink. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, and swallowed her anxiety.
"I tried. They didn't answer any of my questions. They don't want me to worry, but, well... I can hardly help it, now, can I?" She laughed nervously, and Kyoya frowned as she stared once again at her lap. He didn't approve of her being ill informed.
He debated for a moment, and she looked up at him suddenly. He almost stopped breathing, how intensely she peered at him. She watched for a moment, seeing that he was thinking, and her gaze turned almost pleading.
"Honestly, please." She hesitated, then looked down again into her tea. "I'm tired of being lied to."
Kyoya watched her as carefully as he might watch a scared wild animal. He wasn't sure whether or not she was speaking to him or herself. Either way, he was almost sure that he wasn't supposed to hear that.
"Well," he sighed loftily, settling himself. "The most common side-effects are skin changes and fatigue. Depending on the person they might also experience hair loss, mouth problems, nausea and vomiting, swelling, trouble swallowing, urinary and bladder changes, diarrhea, and sexual changes. Most of these changes go away within two months of the treatment. Late side effects can include infertility, joint problems, lymphedema, mouth problems and sometimes secondary cancer."
Ri-i-ip.
Kyoya didn't miss the way she winced violently at the word, and he heard the sound of ripping paper. Embarrassed, she set four paper squares on the table beside her tea cup, stacking them carefully. After a moment of pause, she took a sip of her tea, then set it down again. Her hands fluttered, as though looking for something to do, but when they didn't find anything she folded them into her lap again.
"I—okay." She took a deep breath in through her nose. "Okay. Okay."
As she struggled to reassure herself Kyoya picked up his tea cup and took a long drink. It was black tea, English Blend. His favorite. Not too sweet, but not too strong, either, with the lightest hint of citrus. Sometimes it made him crave something a bit sweeter, but denying himself the ability to splurge made him feel just a little more in control.
He allowed her to calm down before he spoke again, waiting patiently until she closed her eyes for several moments, counting quietly in her head, then slowly opened them. Her blue eyes were shockingly clear. She nodded to herself, then took another drink of her tea.
"May I ask you why you came to me?" Kyoya questioned calmly, sitting straight in his chair. She looked at him for a long moment before she was unable to hold back the smile on her lips.
"Because you're compassionate. Didn't I tell you this the last time we spoke?" She laughed lightly, missing the shock and the annoyance that flickered across his face. It smoothed away into a calm, blank mask before she looked at him again.
For a moment he contemplated asking what she meant by that, exactly, but he quickly recalled the last time they had talked. She had told him that he was a smart boy, and he knew what she meant. He was almost certain that he didn't.
"Alright. Well, I suppose I ought to get home. I'm sure my parents are wondering where I've gone," Hisoka sighed as she stood. She smiled kindly to Kyoya. "Thank you very much for the tea, Kyoya. I'll see you again some other time."
Kyoya watched as Hisoka turned, grasping the pieces of paper she had brought in with her and torn into pieces. She took a step away, and Kyoya found himself suddenly curious about something he had failed to ask about before.
"Masa-san?"
Hisoka stopped. She paused for a moment before half turning to look at him over her shoulder, smiling.
"I thought I told you to call me Hisoka," she teased. Kyoya smiled politely.
"I apologize. Hisoka," he pushed his glasses up his nose and the light reflected off of the frames, hiding his eyes from sight. "Where is your uniform?"
He watched her stiffen. She turned away from him and shrugged noncommittally, in a very unladylike manner. Then she left the room as quickly as possible.
Kyoya watched her leave, his eyes narrowed. Something clearly was not right about the fact that her uniform was missing, but he couldn't quite pin it. For a moment he had the horrible thought that maybe, perhaps—No. It was almost entirely unheard of at Ouran Academy. The teachers took careful measures against it, and no one had any reason to. The Masa family was esteemed, being one of the highest class families in Japan.
Kyoya settled back into his chair and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly.
"I don't suppose you have anything more important to do, like, oh, I don't know. Hosting, perhaps?"
"Mommy!" Kyoya stood up and stepped to the side easily, picking up his laptop and tea cup so that he avoided any mess that was avoidable as a tall blond haired boy took a leap at him from behind. Due to Kyoya getting out of the way, he went careening across the table and on to the floor on the other side. "Owie ow, ow..."
"Woo! Ten points!"
Kyoya glared over his shoulder as two identical red headed boys high-fived each other. One held up a card with a one on it, and the other with a zero.
"Mommy, that hurt," Tamaki groaned as he stood, rubbing that bump that poked through his blond hair. His eyes watered, but Kyoya continued to appear disinterested.
"Please don't call me that," Kyoya sighed again. Something about Tamaki simply exasperated him to no end.
"Who was that girl you were talking to, Kyoya-sempei?" Kyoya turned as the familiar and frail Haruhi wandered over, a tray balanced in her hands. She looked to the door, but Hisoka was long gone. "I could have sworn that I recognized her..."
Just then Hunny and Mori wondered over, Hunny hugging his bright pink stuffed rabbit.
"Ooh! I know her! That's Hiso-chan," he cooed, looking up to his much taller cousin. "We saw her in the library the other day, didn't we, Takashi?" But Mori wasn't listening. He was deep in thought, staring the same way Hisoka had gone, and wondering what exactly the girl from the pool had been doing in the Host Club. What's more, talking to Kyoya of all people. Something was beginning to click together, but he couldn't quite place it. He turned to Hunny after a long moment of silence, realizing that he was staring at him.
"Her uniform."
Kyoya raised his eyebrows at Mori, pushing his glasses up his nose. Hunny tilted his head curiously.
"You're right, Takashi. She wasn't wearing her uniform today or last week. I wonder why not." The innocent blond haired boy turned to Kyoya, hugging his bunny tighter and suddenly grinning excitedly. "Is she a commoner like Haruhi?"
Kyoya opened his mouth to answer—
"Ooh! Haruhi!" Tamaki yelped, wrapping his arms tightly around the slight Host. She yelped, cursing as he made her drop her tray, but it went mostly unnoticed. "Is she a commoner? Do you know her? You can be best friends and do girly things together like grocery shopping and sleep-overs and pillow fights and..." Tamaki babbled. Behind him the twins raised paper fans. "Ow ow ow! What was that for?" Tamaki yelled, turning and glaring at the two. Koaru smacked him on the right shoulder, and Hikaru smacked him on his left.
"Don't be such a pervert!"
"What!?" Tamaki gasped, reeling. "No—I wasn't—Ha-ru-hi!"
"For the last time, sempei, not every commoner knows each other!" Haruhi yelled, glaring at him. Tamaki froze, paling considerably, becoming frailer than paper.
"Actually," Kyoya cut in, pushing Tamaki off balance with one finger so he fell to floor, effectively cutting him off. He was almost certain he heard the sound of his body shattering to pieces. "She is a business associate. Nothing more."
Kyoya said nothing else on the matter, and most of the Host Club disbanded, satisfied for the time being with that answer. The only two remaining were Mori, who stared at the door curiously, still deep in thought, and Kyoya, who gently pushed his glasses up his nose one final time and set his lap top down. He picked up his black note book and snapped it shut, folding it under his arm.
He glanced once at Mori, before his eyes followed the silent wild-type's line of sight. He was almost surprised when Mori spoke.
"It got wet."
Kyoya raised an eyebrow, but Mori was already walking away.
A/U: I know it's so early to update, but I just wanted to get it over with. It will continue to be irregular.
Uhm, plenty of symbolism in this one, for the literary genius's.
Please comment? I would like to hear some feedback. I'm not going to beg, but it would be cool.
