CHAPTER THREE : Haunted
"Hey, where's Kyoya?"
Tamaki suddenly looked up from where he had been busy picking at his food, peering around the gorgeous dining hall in search of his dark haired friend. He was seemingly nowhere to be found.
"I'm... Not sure." He frowned. The twins who had taken their seats beside him shrugged, and promptly turned to bother their friend Haruhi into letting them taste what was in her bento.
Hisoka bit her lip, staring eagerly down into the pages of her book, her fingers wrapped tightly around the edges. Her eyes were wide with astonishment as she read what was on the page, as though she absolutely couldn't believe what she was seeing. She was so distracted by whatever it was that she didn't notice her glasses steadily slipping down her nose, or the way her long blond hair hung in front of her face.
Kyoya noticed that today, she was wearing a pair of well-fitted jeans and a T-shirt that read, in English, Chicago, Iowa Institute of Art. Above it were signatures of fifty or so famous artists, done in different colors and positioned so they mimicked the Chicago skyline. She didn't seem to know that he was there, even as he approached and stood in front of the table she was currently sitting at.
He cleared his throat, and Hisoka's widened gaze relaxed, her shoulders un-tensing. She didn't look up, but her eyes flickered decisively over the words before she found some place that she deemed was okay enough to stop. She found the end of the sentence with her thumb, and then looked up.
"Kyoya? What are you doing here?" Hisoka asked, frowning curiously. Kyoya set down his black note book.
"Is it alright if I sit?" He questioned, smiling politely. Hisoka couldn't help but smile in amusement.
"Of course it is. You didn't come in here just to keep me company, did you?" She laughed quietly, and Kyoya shot her a glare that went unnoticed. He surprised himself and quickly collected his resolve. He was not one to lose control so easily. Something about the way she seemed to at ease in front of him caught him off guard, and the way she continued to insist that he was some sort of passionate human being made him uncomfortable. Passionate was quite the opposite of what he deemed himself to be.
"It was simply a coincidence. I was looking for a quite place to work on my Japanese paper, and you just so happened to be sitting here. I decided to come and see what it was that you were reading." Hisoka grinned at him, her blue eyes lighting up in a sort of mischievous way.
"Well, you see it, don't you? It's a book."
Kyoya narrowed his eyes, trying not to snap at her. She was still technically a business associate.
"Yes, I can see that. Thank you."
It was clear that Kyoya did not appreciate being teased. Hisoka gave him a sheepish, apologetic look. She couldn't help herself, though, and Kyoya could see that it was simply the way that she was. Nothing else needed to be said. She ducked back into her book as Kyoya set his lap top on the table and unfolded it, starting it up with several precise taps on the key board.
They sat like that for several minutes in silence, the clock ticking away on the wall to Hisoka's right and Kyoya's left.
Somewhere along the way he became distracted again. He wasn't sure when, but suddenly he was thinking about what had happened to her uniform. He considered asking again, but he was sure that she wouldn't answer him. He didn't know why she had avoided the question the other day, but it was frustrating that she had and he was eager to find out why. There was very little that Kyoya didn't know, and he prided himself in that. Of course, he had a sneaking suspicion, and the more he thought about it the more that it seemed likely, but the idea that there was someone bullying Hisoka seemed so far-fetched. The teacher's watched that sort of thing very carefully, and besides, he had no proof.
"You seem like you want to ask me something."
Kyoya blinked, looking up from his lap top. Hisoka had set her book on the table and was peering at him from over the top of the cover. He raised his eyebrows, conveying his befuddlement.
"And where do you get that idea?" He couldn't help the sarcasm that dripped from his words, his brain reeling as he struggled to understand how she had possibly known. Hisoka shrugged, her lips pursing and the corner of her mouth tilting up in a coy smirk.
"I don't know." She scrunched her nose childishly. "You don't need to be shy. Whatever it is, you can just ask."
This prompted a frightening glare from Kyoya, and she found herself blushing, ducking back behind her book. Kyoya stared at her for several seconds longer, if only to warn her that he wasn't amused, and went back to looking at his computer screen and working to pick up the pace on his assignment. He couldn't afford to fall behind just because he was thinking about whether or not Hisoka was being bullied, mostly because it was so unlikely.
They sat silently for a little while longer, Hisoka gently flipping the pages of her book. Kyoya glanced at the clock, but there was still plenty of time for him to work. He reached down into his book bag and pulled out the book that he needed for his assignment, and as he was paging through it to find what he needed, he felt Hisoka's eyes on him.
Kyoy had planned on ignoring her. He was just going to continue working on his paper. He didn't want any more distractions considering the fact that he was already behind enough without having to worry about silly side conversations. But Hisoka was the kind of girl that never followed along with his plans, and that was something he had yet to grow used to.
"I'm scared, Kyoya."
He stared down at the book in his hand. Kyoya was sure that was another thing he wasn't exactly supposed to hear.
He heard her let out a deep breath of relief, laughing ironically. He was almost tempted to glance around for a librarian, but he knew there would be no one around during this time of day. They were on the second floor of the library, hidden deep enough within the stacks that they wouldn't likely be found. He finally looked over his laptop, deciding that this was something he couldn't avoid. There was not a good enough reason for him to leave, and if he did now it would seem rude.
"Wow, that felt good to say," Hisoka sighed, leaning back in her chair in a very unladylike manner.
Kyoya almost reprimanded her, wondering why she felt the need to continue to feel so relaxed around his individual presence. He was tempted to glance around theatrically, as though searching for what she was afraid of, and then surprised himself that he had thought to do something so friendly. He knew that he really shouldn't—
"Sorry. I don't mean to put you in an awkward position," Hisoka continued, rubbing the page of her book with her thumb. She didn't blush as though she was embarrassed, but she looked down at the novel in her hands and he wondered if she was acting, or if there was something particularly interesting she was looking at. A picture, maybe. "I don't know why I'm telling you exactly, but I really feel like I need to say it to someone and I can't just talk to my parents about it because they'll just look at me like, like they're sad, and then they'll say 'we know,' or they'll look scared, too, and I can't talk to—" Hisoka stopped herself and swallowed roughly, rearranging her thoughts, "—anyone else, and you always seem to know what to say, or what to think really because you tend to just aim to please other people. Which is really annoying, by the way, I'll let you know that now. Anyway, it's really irritating that my parents do that because I think that I'm, maybe, more scared to know that they're scared because they're always supposed to know what to do, right? But they don't."
She looked up at him then, and the blush that had been steadily growing on her face darkened and she looked away. Kyoya realized quickly that it was because he had been staring at her with some level of shock in his eyes.
"I know it's a really childish thing to say, and you probably think I'm just being stupid or something. Sorry." Hisoka sighed and brushed strand of her long blond hair behind her ear, her glasses sliding down her nose. She sat there in silence, and Kyoya watched as she shuffled in her seat awkwardly, not quite sure what to say. She picked up her book as though she intended to read it again, but it was very clear that she couldn't exactly go back to it.
Kyoya hesitated. He still had a chance to escape this conversation, to very clearly not be involved in this silly fear she had of her illness that she was on the way to being cured of. Of course there was always the chance that something could go wrong, but Kyoya found himself seriously doubting it.
"There's really no point in being afraid of something like that," Kyoya said casually, waving her fears off. Hisoka looked up at him in surprise, and he found himself somewhat amused by the way her blue eyes widened. Her glasses made her look as though she had unnaturally wide eyes, and she looked almost bug like. He opened his mouth to continue, but Hisoka cut him off.
"Don't you go on telling me that your father's hospital is one of the best, if not the best in Japan because I didn't go spilling my guts to you just so I could hear about your pride, Ootori," Hisoka warned. Kyoya raised an eyebrow.
"If you let me finish, it wouldn't be something you'd need to worry about." Hisoka didn't relent her harsh look as Kyoya glared at her. He waited until he was sure that his warning not to interrupt had settled before he pushed his glasses up his nose. "I was going to say that what will happen, will happen. At this point, there's nothing you can do to prevent anything or cause anything."
Hisoka frowned slightly, looking almost put off. It made sense, of course, and she felt better because of it, but she knew that it wasn't necessarily a reassuring thing to hear. She sighed and looked down to her book.
"I suppose you're right," she decided, brushing her thumb over several worn words. She had read this book several times already, and still she found herself reveling in each new thing that transpired.
"And my father's hospital is not only the best in the country, it is one of the best in the world, with the most renowned doctors and medical staff to be found, so there is little to no chance that anything will go wrong."
Hisoka looked up at him sharply as he shoved his glasses up his nose, the light glinting off of them as he stood, snapping his lap top closed. For a moment she thought that maybe she had insulted him, but a longer look led to her seeing the teasing smirk on his lips. She rolled her eyes, a grin growing on her own face in return.
"Now if you'll excuse me I have a lot that I need to get done, and I can't focus when you're constantly distracting me with mindless comments. Have a good day, Mara-san," Kyoya replied casually, his voice coming out as almost a sigh, as it often did. He turned on his heels and walked briskly away, his fingers wrapped around the handle of his book bag and his black note book and lap top folded under the other arm. He disappeared around the stacks and when he was gone, Hisoka let out a sigh and buried her face in her arms.
As she ducked she didn't notice the bright eyes watching her from behind the nearest shelf, narrowed in burning jealousy.
"Hisoka-san, it is time for you to get up."
The dull sound of a light, monotonous voice chilled the early morning air. A young woman dressed in a maids uniform with her long, pin straight black hair hanging down her back floated across the room like a ghost. She gripped the curtains with long, thin, pale fingers and opened them with sharp accuracy.
Hisoka opened her eyes halfheartedly, but she did not move. She stared up at her ceiling, listening as her maid moved around the room, bringing in a box from just outside the door and setting it precisely on her dresser, peeling off the lid and pulling clothes from inside. She didn't say anything as she moved, working with the diligence that Hisoka's parents hired her for. She was practically a robot.
"Your uniform has arrived, but there appears to have been a mistake," the young maid said in a robotic tone, unfolding the clothes and laying them out for Hisoka to wear for the day. Out of the corner of her eye, Hisoka could see a powder blue blazer. "They seem to have sent you the male uniform on accident."
Hisoka slowly turned her head, staring at her maid. There were dark circles under the blonds eyes, and her hair was mussed and wild. She was wearing her pajama's, but her sheets had been tossed to the side, spilling over on to the floor. The maid busied herself with picking up pillows she had tossed off the bed over night, and as she fluffed one out and placed it on the bed beside Hisoka's head, she caught her eyes.
Hisoka didn't move as the woman looked her over, taking in her tired appearance. She had questions, clearly, but she refrained from asking them. It would be highly unprofessional, and they both knew that. Besides, Hisoka was certain that she knew the answer. It was clear that once again, she had wasted another night unable to fall asleep.
"You could wear it, if you wish. I will find you an appropriate skirt to—"
"That is unneeded, Rin. Thank you." Hisoka slowly dragged herself from her bed, and Rin swiftly took up her place, yanking the covers and the sheets away so that they could be washed. Hisoka ignored her as she made her way over to where the wrong uniform had been placed, running her palm over the smooth fabric of the regal blazer.
"Hisoka-san." The young blond paused, her hand stopping where it was placed on her blazer. If she looked up she might have seen the pained expression on Rin's reflection, or the way that she appeared as though she were going to reach out to the young girl. A moment later it vanished as she thought better of her actions. "Should I tell Chiasa-san and Mamoru-san that you will be joining them for breakfast?"
Hisoka wound her fingers in the fabric of the blazer, contemplating. She could wear it if she wanted to. It would almost be like slipping into a new skin. She could cut off all of her hair. It's not like it would matter, it would be falling out of her head soon, anyway. She could become a boy, maybe even take her place as a Host in the Host Club, just like Kyoya. She could adopt a perfect life like he had, being completely in control of everything around her.
No matter what she did, Hisoka knew better. Changing what was on the outside would not change what was on the inside.
"No. Tell them that I woke late again."
It would be the ninth time Rin had told the same lie. She bowed her head.
"Of course, Hisoka-san."
With that she exited the room, leaving Hisoka to her own devices.
A/U: Another quick update. I'm putting these out as I finish them.
Thanks for the constructive criticism. I fixed what I had the mind to, but this is a hobby, not a job.
Any thoughts? I'm laying down the bricks to the real mystery that this story is about. Have any of you played the horror/survival game,Rule of Rose?
I'm simultaneously playing Pokemon and listening to RunButton on Youtube as they play 30 Years of Mario. I have reached ultimate nerddom.
