Preface: I know this is short and I know I haven't updated this in a loooong while. Please forgive me. I'm hoping to get this fic by the end of summer! I finally see where this is going, so enjoy!
Kyouya could tell that whatever inhabited the diary was furious. The howling remained as an irritating reminder of that.
Whether it was luck or not, his shadows pointed to the next exit, and hopefully his last one after so many different rooms of so many lovely women in period dress from all over the world. Some of them had not even been able to understand his fluent Chinese, English, German, or French, and he had to resort to pantomiming.
His eyes adjusted to the change in light. Surrounding him was a very aesthetically pleasing garden coupled with a deer scare. The sound of water gurgled by in a small stream near his feet behind him. He could hear a shamisen being played expertly nearby.
This place was very calming and beautiful in its ephemeral quality, almost too calming, Kyouya realized, when he jerked his gaze away from the well-kept plants. Taking care not to look around the bewitching area, he walked across the grass towards the music.
A youthful, very small woman in a gorgeous blue and purple kimono was plucking at the instrument, her eyes closed and with a smile on her face.
"Excuse me, milady. We must be on our way." He bowed before her attention was completely on him.
"Who are you?" The woman's voice was very soft, yet warm. "I haven't seen anybody here in a long, long time."
"I am Kyouya Ootori, and I have come to release you from an enchanted book."
"Raise your head, young man. I want to look at you." She set her instrument down gently and stood. Kyouya went straight-backed, and caught himself before he stared too long at her eyes, that were so vibrantly blue they were practically electric.
She smiled and Kyouya could sense a stage-presence behind it. "I appreciate your care, but I cannot leave. A demon abducted me. He used to come visit to hear me play, but..."
A very loud knock resounded through the air, which cooled almost imperceptibly.
"The guard dog." She stated simply. "He won't come in here unless I call him."
The teen frowned. "If I may ask, what is your name?"
"Hotaru." The knocking grew louder. "Judging by your clothes and your comfort in them, I assume that much time has passed outside..."
Kyouya nodded, growing impatient with her. "Seeing your hairstyle and noting your manner of speech, it could be well over a hundred years. What of it?"
"That wretched Sesumu, to think that I fell in love with him." She bent her head towards her hands, tears wetting her palms, ignoring the increasingly loud pounding in the background. "My baby... My sweet baby was stolen from me and probably eaten by that wretched demon."
There was a flash of light and a strange white bird appeared in a tree, cocking its head at Kyouya before flying onto his shoulder. Kyouya looked at it curiously as it bent forward and opened its beak. "Whatever you are doing in there, you should hurry up. The diary is unstable, and any moment it will collapse," Kazutaka's voice sniped in irritation. Message sent, the bird curled up into a wisp of paper which burned off without a trace.
"Milady, whatever demon had you before is no longer in charge of the diary. This place will disappear, and you will be destroyed along with it."
She gazed down at the shamisen in her hands, and then she set it down, standing gracefully. Adjusting her robes with an easy grace, she elegantly plucked up an umbrella and slipped on the tall geta sitting on the large stepping stone beside the raised porch. It was like art in motion.
Kyouya looked away, realizing she was one of the old Geisha. He'd heard of their talents in mesmerizing men by simply turning a sleeve, but... He offered a hand. He'd met geisha before but his eyes hadn't been pulled so easily.
"Why so shy, young man? Afraid I am a snake charmer?" Her laugh was soft and pleasing as he helped her step down, though it was all formality since her footing was very sure. The banging outside grew more hurried and louder.
He shifted his arm, so she could lay hers daintily on his, and walked "I didn't wish to offend by staring too long. You are very beautiful," he responded truthfully, when the noise stopped.
"And silver-tongued, I see. You look barely sixteen, but are well-practiced in the art of dialogue. You must be some politician's son." Even with the shoes that added height to her, she barely came up to his shoulder, even full-grown.
"I was the third son to the owner of a zaibatsu that deals in medical services..." She quirked an eyebrow at him in amusement. "Is something funny, milady?"
"You certainly don't act like any third son I know." The strands of long, shiny dark brown hair was swept up by a casual breeze. She didn't show a hint of hurry despite the howling that had started and the sudden hostile feeling around them. "But you say it in past tense, as if..." She trailed off.
Kyouya's shadows were insistently pointing, and the dark gateway was open, awaiting their exit. "That is because, milady, I am a death god come to collect your wayward spirit."
Without faltering in her steps, she walked into the shadow with him.
Tamaki came to on the ground, feeling as if he had sipped too much wine at a wine-tasting emporium. Sitting up, his head felt heavy as if anchors were attached to both ears threatening to pull him to the floor again.
The chatter of many women perked him up. Oh! I've passed out at a party. How embarrassing! He pushed himself unsteadily to his feet as if unused to using them and heard a glorious sound. There was a lady speaking fluent French to another. Cocking his ears, he also heard German and English and Spanish and Italian and Russian and many other languages he had fallen out of practice with.
Tamaki was ecstatic, thinking he had woken up at a commoner's World Language convention! Then, he looked around realizing he was still in his own house and that, despite hearing all the voices, he could see nothing.
"Tamaki-senior!"
He whipped his head down and stared at the glossy hardwood floor that met his gaze. The voice was very, very familiar...
"Tamaki-senior, can't you see me?"
"No, little girl. I cannot. What's going on? Is this a...!" Bringing a hand to his mouth he backpedaled until he hit the windowsill, "G-G-Ghost dinner party!"
"No, that boy said my body's somewhere else, so I can't be a ghost!" She giggled. "Tamaki-senior, I'm Hina!"
"Hina-chan? Are you alright?
"I'm okay!"
Yellow flashing light brought his attention to the dinner table, situated to his left. The low-level crackling sound wasn't food grilling as he assumed, but in fact some weird, occult thing happening to that 'fantasy' diary he had taken from his father's study! "You! Stop tarnishing the diary's innocent purpose!"
The short boy in white, his head blanketed in fine, platinum blond hair, turned to look at him with silver eyes and a sneer. "Shut up, you idiot. IT would have destroyed a part of your mansion if I hadn't stabilized it."
"Kyle?," Tamaki gasped in surprise as he brought a hand up to his chest. Feeling the blood drain from his face, Tamaki stammered, "Is it c-c-cursed?" Then he moaned out, "Oh, I'm not ready to go down the river Nyx to the caves of Hades! Oh cruel, cruel fate! After stealing Kyouya away, you try to steal my soul as well! Nay, get back death! Away with you! I cast you from my house to ne'er return!"
Other than the clapping from the little girl, he heard that the conversation had stopped. He looked around in confusion. There was a low murmur of appreciation that swept through the crowd of ghosts. Perhaps a very beautiful guest had arrived?
Kyle's hands moved quickly in a strange pattern as if he truly held back the lightning leaping from the book at him, and then a giant claw burst out of the book crushing it. Tamaki shrieked in surprise as that animalistic hand pulled the rest of an arm out of the diary, the claws digging into the a hundred-year-old oak table.
Suddenly, a thick black substance inked up from the underside of the table and pooled around the diary, grabbing hold of the tautly muscled front leg. Watching in morbid curiosity and puzzlement, Tamaki stared as the new transfer student rattled off a string of Buddhist mantras, and the straining limb caught on fire. An otherworldly scream sounded, and only a pile of greasy-looking black ash was left of that... arm-thing.
Raising himself up, Tamaki frowned at Kyle. "You have a lot of explaining to do."
The grim smile of amusement stayed on Kyle's face as he answered. "No, I most certainly do not." Tamaki looked at the silver eyes with a frown. "In fact, do us all a favor and forget this ever happened. Go talk to your maid and help choose a dinner menu."
Blankly, Tamaki nodded. "That sounds like a fantastic idea! I'll go see Shima right away." He left the room, shutting the door, and his muffled exclamation about a wonderful idea came through it.
"Such an interesting ability you have." Kyouya had his arms crossed looking down at his partner. The spirit of the Geisha Hotaru was five steps behind him.
"It's merely a Bewitchment Charm. I'm rather good at them, though they aren't always effective..." Muraki picked up the battered, now-sealed diary, and turned to the group of spirits. "Ladies, I welcome you to Japan. If everyone will hold hands, we will transfer you to Meifu and help you to the transfer stations to your home-netherworlds," Kazutaka said in flawless English. The ones who understood smiled to the people around them and graciously offered a hand. Soon, all of them followed suit linking up hands.
Hina snagged Kyouya's hand looking up curiously. "Senior?"
Then they disappeared, book along with it.
TBC.