A/N: Blargh, I'm sorry for the wait you guys! Real life has been completely kicking my ass. Thanks for being so patient with me; I'm hoping that updates will come faster now that I've settled into a routine. Also, I apologize for the lack of review responses. With the little free time that I have, I figured that you guys would rather I work on updates. Please know that I read every word that you guys send to me, and that I cherish every one. Your feedback means a lot. And so, as always, I thank you guys for being such amazing reviewers/readers. You rock!
I do not own Ouran High School Host Club; it belongs to Bisco Hatori.
Twist It Tighter
The air inside the lavish private plane was tight enough to pop ears, and not just because it was currently situated at thirty thousand feet. There were five people settled into the luxurious leather seats of the plane, but no one was communicating outside of the occasional sideways glance, and the weight of words unsaid was compressing the air inside the cabin uncomfortably.
Leave it to Kyoya freaking Ootori to hire himself out as a one man band of awkward.
It shouldn't have been so hard. They were family after all, and they'd survived a near-destruction in order to truly earn that title. They should have been able to storm the plane as soon as it touched down, and shove their list of questions into Kyoya's face. They'd certainly seen his graciously frigid façade before, and so it really shouldn't have given them more than a moment's pause. Everyone knew that Mommy had an icicle (with eyes, because everything about Kyoya always watched) lodged up his butt, and they loved him anyway.
But then, they'd never been on the receiving end of it before, and his complete lack of warmth choked their confused cries of- 'what'hell'
-into uncertain silence.
So they'd wilted instead, reduced to delicate flowers in the face of Kyoya's civil frost, and politely thanked Kyoya for picking them up, watching with disbelief as he elegantly ignored the question marks creasing their eyebrows.
Now they were sitting in silent pairs, Hikaru and Kaoru back by the door, Hunni and Mori towards the middle, and Kyoya with his black laptop, and one true love, up front and close to the cockpit. Kyoya was going out of his way to stay silent now, but upon their respective arrivals, he'd offered each of them refreshment, with manners both immaculate and cold. His Host Club manners. They'd recognized them right away, and found themselves strangely insulted by their presence, though most of them couldn't articulate why.
"They're fake," Kaoru explained, about four hours into the flight. "Not real. Kyoya-sempai never bothered to pretend with us before, but all of sudden he's treating us like outsiders."
Hikaru absorbed the words his brother had whispered against his ear, and recalled the way a soft, sweet, and somewhat empty Host Club smile had curled its way around Kyoya's lips as he'd offered him a beverage and his choice of seats. Tamaki's smile, Hikaru realized, and wondered if Kyoya had comprehended yet that he'd never be able to free himself completely.
Tension wasn't the only thing tightening the air inside the cabin. Tamaki and Haruhi hadn't answered any of their calls, and so worry was an ever-clenching fist, squeezing out the little air that was left. No one was talking about it, but their behavior dragged it out into the open better than their words ever could. Hunni refused to sit still; he rocked in his seat, stretched his legs, fidgeted and squirmed until a quiet word from Mori sapped the majority of his restlessness. Eventually, he slipped into an exhausted slumber, his cheek pressed against Mori's side. The worry wasn't as obvious in the more stoic boy. But the way his hands crushed the book he was reading, the way his eyes rested a good inch or two above the page, eventually indicated that his mind was indeed distracted. Kaoru opened his writing journal, only to sit with a blank page and vacant eyes, before eventually closing it again. And Hikaru gave up on listening to his music at all about thirty minutes in.
Eventually, they all fell asleep. Partially because it was a long flight, but mostly out of self-defense. Hikaru woke when the plane began to descend; he'd never been able to sleep through the landing process, but everyone else slumbered on. As the older twin yawned and shifted, carefully, so as not to wake Kaoru, who was snuggled up against his shoulder, he saw the faint glow of a computer screen, and almost rolled his eyes. Of course; even in crisis situations, Kyoya never slept.
"Sir." A uniformed man quietly opened the cockpit door and tiptoed to Kyoya's side. "We'll be landing soon. Your car is waiting for you at the airport's main gate."
"Very well," Kyoya murmured back. "What is our estimated time of arrival?"
"The driver said it should take about an hour and a half to reach the estate."
"An hour and a half?" Kyoya repeated, and both Hikaru and the uniformed man winced a little at the sudden displeasure in his voice.
"I'm sorry, sir," the man whispered, swallowing hard. "There is-The driver reported heavy traffic."
There was a long beat of silence, long enough for Hikaru to imagine the sweat rolling down the man's back, before Kyoya heaved a long-suffering sigh.
"I suppose it can't be helped," he said dismissively. "Thank you for alerting me."
It was just bright enough for Hikaru to make out the man's fumbling bow, and then he was gone, creeping back inside the cockpit, probably with great relief.
Not as distant as we thought, Hikaru mused, recalling the snapping impatience he'd just barely heard in the older boy's voice. But then why are you pretending not to care, Kyoya-sempai?
The others jerked awake in varying stages as the plane wheels whacked the ground. Mori woke up like he'd never been sleeping at all, blinking eyes that were bright and perfectly aware. Hunni snuggled stubbornly against his side, and gave a rather worrisome snarl when the bigger boy tried to nudge him awake. Kaoru let out a garbled string of vowel sounds against Hikaru's shoulder, and then hauled himself into a sitting position, blinking sleep from his golden eyes.
"I hope the flight was enjoyable," Kyoya offered, with perfect, polite indifference as they all staggered to their feet. "There's a car waiting for us at the main gate. It will take us to Tamaki, and his mother."
All lingering traces of sleep banished itself from the boys at the reminder of their real mission. The un-boarded the plane, and made quick work of scaling through the swarming airport. They'd been born into the world of travel, and so they barely blinked at the sudden shift from Japanese to the long and liquid language of the French. The piled into the sleek car with Kyoya's family crest waving from the antenna, and waited impatiently for the driver to finish loading their luggage, tapping finger and toes and shifting in their seats.
The atmosphere inside the car was just as awkward as the plane, possibly even more so, because of the sudden space reduction. Everyone turned avoiding each other's eyes into some kind of high intensity sport. Currently, Mori's blank face was in the lead. Hikaru held Kaoru's hand, hiding the action carefully by pressing their arms together, and pretended that he wasn't watching an impassive Kyoya out of the corner of his eye.
By the time the car rolled to a stop, Hunni practically ninja kicked the door open, desperate to be outside and away from the unbearable silence. The rest followed, bending and bowing out various travel aches, only to go as still as statues on the street.
They weren't oblivious. Privilege blinded them to a certain degree, but it didn't render them completely unaware. They knew that not everyone lived like them, oh yes they did, they were friends with Haruhi, weren't they?
Okay. Maybe they were oblivious. But only a very little bit.
But, really. This was Tamaki's mother. She was cut from the same cloth as them. So they'd at least been expecting an estate of some sort.
They weren't really sure what to do about the building before them; the whimsical cottage nestled in the French countryside.
"Um…," Hunni said, with a slow blink of his big brown eyes. "Kyo-chan? Are you sure we have the right place?"
Kyoya, who completely failed to look surprised, gave a short nod.
"Yes," he said. "Remember that Tamaki's mother vanished shortly after her son left for Japan. While she'd never be completely without money, she certainly wouldn't have an abundance of it like before. Some sacrifices were unavoidable, I'm sure."
"Oh." Hunni gave a little bounce as he processed this. "Well I think it's a super cute little house!"
It was cute. And it wasn't little, not by a commoner's standards. The cottage boasted at least four bedrooms, by the looks of it, and the garden just had to be enormous, because it was spilling around the cheerful yellow walls. Rolling green hills surrounded the house like a picture frame, and the sweet smell of early summer grass and wet, rejuvenated earth permeated the air. The softest breeze whispered around the boys like silk, tugging politely at their hands and hair.
"The French countryside is famous for its scenery," Kyoya said, dismissing it so easily with an elegant shrug. "I'm sure it's a very peaceful place to live."
They took the little path to the front door, a path decorated with potted plants and vibrant blooms that waved at them as they passed, cheerful sentries to show the way. The door was white and pleasantly smudged, and someone had stenciled 'Welcome' across the center of it. Kyoya knocked with two fingers, as if secretly afraid that the word would reach out and infect him.
The door opened. Haruhi stood on the threshold and blinked at them for several long moments, brown eyes wide and befuddled.
Hikaru rocked back on his heels and tried to pretend that seeing her wasn't like getting sucker stabbed in the gut.
It took a little while, but Haruhi finally managed to locate her voice somewhere in the vicinity of her spleen.
"You guys," she said, and that little bit of breathless confusion in her voice took the blade in Hikaru's gut and twisted it. "You're here."
Kyoya's eyebrow arched, smooth and subtle.
"You invited us, didn't you?" And the subtle edge of mockery in his voice made Hikaru want to snap at him. But it also made him wonder.
"Right," Haruhi said, and remembered herself enough to step back and let them in. "But it's so fast. I mean, it's been barely twenty-four hours since I sent that message. Tamaki and I weren't expecting you for two days, at least."
Hunni deposited his bag carefully on the floor, and then proceeded to throw himself at Haruhi like a boy lolita love-bomb, his arms sliding strong around her waist.
"Kyo-chan picked us up!" he offered, by way of greeting. "He emailed us before you did, Haru-chan, and then he brought his fancy plane to meet us!"
Haruhi's warm look of amused exasperation dissolved immediately, and she whipped her head from Hunni to Kyoya. Hikaru caught a glimpse at the anger in her eyes, and came to sudden realization.
He and the other boys may not understand what was driving a wedge between the boss and his most beloved subject, and in turn causing Kyoya-sempai to act like even more of an icy bastard.
But Haruhi did.
"That was nice of you, Kyoya-sempai," she said after a long moment of silent communication. Hikaru had tried to interpret it, but Haruhi's eyes were too angry to read words in, and Kyoya's face never gave anything away. He'd ask Kaoru later; by the way his brother's hands were locked tight around his notebook binding, he'd understood every unspoken word.
"It was my pleasure."
And Hikaru could tell by the sudden softening in Haruhi's eyes that she could also see Tamaki in Kyoya's Host Club smile.
"Thanks for coming, you guys," she said, tearing her attention away from Kyoya with what appeared to be great effort. She beamed warm smiles at the other boys instead, and Hikaru tried desperately to ignore the way that it burned a little brighter when it was turned in his direction. "It'll mean a lot to Tamaki."
"Where is the Boss?" Kaoru asked.
"Upstairs, with his mother," Haruhi said, with a soft sigh, and for the first time since stepping through the white doorway, Hikaru forced himself to really see her. She looked exhausted, with dark bruises ringing her eyes, and a soft pallor to her skin. "Her condition isn't bad enough that they need to move her…yet, but they don't want her up and about either." She tilted her head a little, taking in the soft music drifting down the stairs. "Tamaki's been playing for hours."
"Can we see him?" Mori asked quietly, and Haruhi flashed another weary smile in his direction.
"He'll probably be down soon," she said. "We haven't really left her side since we got here. So he'll probably wonder where I've gone."
"That must be difficult for you." And they all blinked, because it was Kyoya who said it, and the unspoken are you alright in his voice was too dramatic a shift to process right away.
For a moment, Haruhi regarded him with a furrowed brow. Then, a tiny smile bowed her lips, a response to Kyoya's suddenly softer tone.
"It's okay," she said slowly. "It's not…like last time. Not like Mom."
Clarity came double-dipped in guilt. In the wake of their current concern, they'd all forgotten about Haruhi's mother, who'd passed away in a situation not un-similar to this.
But Kyoya had remembered.
And didn't that mean something?
A door opened gently upstairs. In all their shock at Kyoya's sudden concern, they'd missed the cessation of the soft music from above, and now Tamaki was coming down the stairs, his heart-winning face tight with worry and exhaustion.
"Haruhi," he called, rubbing stubbornly at sleepy purple eyes. "Who was at the…"
He stopped when he saw them there, gathered in the entryway. Those half-lidded eyes, weighed down by the lack of sleep, suddenly flew wide. For a moment, they stood frozen, like movie actors caught on pause.
Hikaru, for his part, had absolutely no idea what to do, or say.
Hey, Boss. Wish there wasn't a medical emergency every time we get the group together.
So, ah…how's your mom? Is it weird talking to someone you haven't seen in years?
I keep staring at your girlfriend's bare feet. Apparently, I am a filthy pervert with a Haruhi foot fetish. Sorry about that.
Luckily for him, Hunni knew exactly what to do. The boy ran up the stairs and flung himself at the flabbergasted blonde.
"Tama-chan. Hi. We're here." Hunni tightened his arms around Tamaki's waist, and muffled his mouth with the taller boy's shirt. "We came."
The wide-eyed look of total surprise left Tamaki's face, to be replaced with something so soft, so amazingly open and honest and raw, that Hikaru suddenly believed in the curative powers of an embrace.
Maybe Hunni-sempai should hug Kyoya-sempai sometime. It might shake loose the icicle up his ass a little.
"You're here," Tamaki repeated, descending the stairs now with a companionable arm still slung around Hunni's neck. He drinks in the sight of each of them in turn, but his eyes linger longest on Kyoya's face. "You all came."
He reaches for Haruhi the instant he hits the bottom, and they tangle their fingers without even looking at each other. That little gesture, so easy and casual and intimate, hurts Hikaru worse than any kiss they might have shared, and he takes a soft and careful breath, ignoring Kaoru's swift glance of concern.
"Of course," Kyoya said.
"You're here so fast," Tamaki remarked, with a weak smile. "You'll have to forgive me if I seem a bit shaken. We weren't expecting you so soon."
It was strange to see Tamaki so soft, and so subdued, and not throwing himself at them like the idiot he is. Kaoru took a tiny step forward, but no more, because Hikaru didn't move closer with him.
"Kyoya picked us up, Boss," he offered.
Tamaki's eyes flared on Kyoya's face, a swirling mixture of happiness and complete confusion, the softer side of Haruhi's earlier anger.
"Mon ami," he said softly, almost a whisper, and certainly for only Kyoya's ears. But Kyoya refused to acknowledge it at all.
"How is your mother?" he asked, and Tamaki wilted a little under his scrupulously polite tone.
"As…as well as can be expected, I guess. My apologies, but I really should get back to her. I don't want to leave her alone for too long."
Hikaru watched as Haruhi's fingers tightened around Tamaki's.
"I can go," she offered. "Give you a chance to catch up, fill everyone in. I don't mind."
"No, no. I know that you aren't that comfortable with it, Haruhi. It's all right."
So. Apparently Tamaki had remembered Haruhi's weakness, same as Kyoya.
And that definitely meant something.
"Leave your bags here for now," Tamaki decided. "And follow me. We'll figure out sleeping arrangements later. For now, I'll introduce you."
"Ah," Hikaru gives an uncomfortable squirm. "Are you sure that's a good a idea, Boss?"
Tamaki's smile turns on him, and it's soft, and sad, somehow.
"Of course," he said. "When I told her you were coming, she said that she wanted to meet you." He smiled a little brighter for Hikaru, but the older twin watches his eyes slide away, to Kyoya. "Meet my friends that I call family."
...
A/N: What happened between Tamaki, Haruhi, and Kyoya to put such a strain on their friendship? What are they hiding from the others? And can they pull it together enough to support Tamaki in his time of need? Possible flashbacks next chapter...so stay tuned. Happy Reading!