Seven- Thinking

It's so we won't think

My wedding was the happiest day of my life. That is what so many people say. For me, I don't know. It just didn't seem to have that much effect. I'm fairly sure I spent most of it wishing it was over. Like so many other things, the wedding was just something I had to get through before I could get on to more important things. I somehow had myself believing that once I was Tamaki's wife, there would be no more room for doubt. And I would be happy.

The morning was the worst part. Somehow, the time just seemed to fill itself. I got up early, even more early than I was supposed too, and went and bathed just to try and calm the sickness in my stomach. I wasn't sure what I was so nervous about. Then, still early, a maid was sent in to wake me- although this instruction was now redundant- and I was sent to bathe again, and to scrub every inch of myself until I was sure my skin would shine, if indeed there was any left. I wasn't sure of the point, given that I would be wearing clothes, but I was not allowed to leave the bathroom for a good hour. Still in my bathrobe, I was given five minutes to eat some toast, which my mother practically forced down my throat because I wasn't being quick enough. Then it was straight back upstairs to be worked on by the hair stylist and the make-up artist and the manicurist and the pedicurist and, oh, I don't know, the gardener probably. There seemed to be an almost infinite number of people bustling around me and my room. I could only identify what about half of them were doing.

All the while, the mannequin stood watching. I had heard about the groom not seeing the dress before the day, but to keep it from the bride seemed ridiculous. I had only worn it once for the final fitting, but then my mother had insisted on blindfolding me. She said it was to stop me from complaining and making everything difficult when there was so little time. She had been the one to approve the design. I could only infer from that that I wouldn't like the design. I half dreaded it's unveilling.

Finally, my face and hair were judged to be ready. I had yet to be allowed to see a mirror, but I had the vauge notion that my hair was pinned up somehow, while I was sure I had almost enough make up on to make my face peel from my skull. By this time, I was the only one who hadn't eaten any lunch, but I felt too nervous and it was decided it would smudge my lipstick. So instead, I was taken to put on my dress. My mother insisted on covering my eyes, just for a more dramatic reveal. So I got dressed in the dark, so to speak, and felt the shoes placed on my feet. Then it was decided my hair was somehow slightly askew, so I was made to wait even longer. Finally, I was lead in front of the mirror, and my mother removed her hands.

For a moment, I just stared. They had done a good job. I had been expecting a lot worse. I had never before been particularly pleased about how I looked. It wasn't that appearances didn't concern me, it's just I concentrated on looking 'suitable' for the place and occasion. I dressed according to my purpose, and my only concern was if that seemed to be met in my outfit. This time, I understood why people were so excited about dress. I looked good. That was the first time I had ever bothered to consider such a thing.

My hair, then, was put up somehow. I would have called it a bun, though the stylist probably would have told me off for such a thing, because of all the straggling bits that straggled down at the back or, two, in front of my face. She had attacked the limp, straight strips too, and now they curled fetchingly. I didn't have a full veil, to my relief, though there seemed to be some lace pegged into the hair arrangement somehow, a small piece decorating my neck, or so it seemed to me. My make up was not as bad as I feared. Actually, it seemed more subtle then my own occasional attempts. That was the art of good make up, someone told me once, the art of bringing out the features while making it seem as though you wore none at all.

The dress, too, was beautiful. The twins' mother had designed it personally, apparantly, and with me in mind. At the top, it clung to my figure, but the skirt billowed out a little more. The bodice- or whatever one calls it- seemed almost to be plain at first sight, but then you noticed the light embroidered pattern sewn into it. As for the skirt, well, it seemed to cascade. It wasn't enormous, just large enough. I couldn't even begin to identify all the little tricks of stiching, the beads, the patterns, that made it look so nice. Somehow, it didn't even look cluttered. That dress gave me an entire new respect for the tailoring trade. It was, in it's own way, art.

"I still say she needs gloves." The hair stylist dared to say.

"After I made her nails so nice?" The manicurist answered.

"She would look better with gloves." The make up artist agreed.

"Do you think so?" My mother asked, anxious. "But her skin is such a lovely pale colour..."

"Ivory." The manicurist agreed.

"If she wears gloves to the elbow, her upper arm will still show." The hair stylist pointed out. And so, after much debate and my trying the gloves about twenty times, they too were adopted to the outfit; and not a moment too soon. I was bustled downstairs immediately. Waiting in the hall was the rest of my family. Fuyumi gasped when she saw me.

"Kotoko, you're so beautiful!" She cried, dashing to hug me.

"Don't!" My mother cautioned. "You'll mess her."

Slightly regretfully, my sister squeezed my arm instead. I was given standard compliments from her husband, my brothers, and my father; and then I was piled into a car with my parents while the rest of the family was to follow behind. My mother spent the time running me through the guest list, making sure I remembered everybody, what they looked like, and where they would be sitting. This included my bridesmaids. I think, of the three of them, one I had met several times, one I had heard of, and the last seemed to have appeared from nowhere. The first time I would meet her would be when she followed me up the ailse, but it was alright. I was assured they were all very pretty- but not quite as much as me. Of course.

My father, on the other hand, merely reminded me that he was expecting me to behave 'appropriately'. I replied that I would, of course, though how he imagined I could behave inappropriately at my own wedding, I wasn't quite sure.

And, at last, it was time.

Tamaki seemed so nervous when I entered. He had to struggle to look at me, I think. I tried to smile reassuringly, but he just seemed stunned. Something in the way he started to blush slightly made me happy. When he smiled back, I smiled for real. I dared to believe. We would be okay. This would work out. This would be a good thing.

Someone was singing 'Can you Feel the Love Tonight' as I walked down the ailse. I don't know who. I don't know who asked them to. I didn't really notice it. Nor did I pay much attention to the fact that my father was escorting me, possibly the first contact we'd ever had. I can't recall ever noticing who he had chosen as his best man. I missed all these things because, for the first time as I stood before Tamaki, my heart was pounding.

Was this it? Had I finally fallen in love? I wasn't sure. But I repeated the vows mechanically, and in too short a time for it to begin to feel like a reality, the ring was on my finger. There was another on his. After the official prompt, he put his hands to my face and pressed his lips to mine. With that short exchange, we were married. We posed for photographs. People threw confetti as we left. We were just seventeen, going on eighteen.

Considering this was supposed to be the beginning of our life together, Tamaki and I seemed to spend very little time in each other's company that day. We were in the same car from the Church, but as soon as we reached my house I was torn away and the whole process seemed to start again. First I had to scrub and remove all the make up I had worn for the wedding, and wash all the treatments from my hair. I had to have them redone in new styles, and dress again; in a different dress, the reception dress. Once again, there seemed to be some mad rush. A quick check in the mirror- yes, I still looked beautiful, that was the main thing- and I found myself being thrown back into a car and driven to Tamaki's, where I was put into another car that would take us both to the reception. Tamaki was already in the backseat.

"You look tired." He said, smiling.

"I think, if I was moved any faster, I would be having jet lag."

He laughed a little, and kissed me. "Well, I still say you took too long, Mrs Suoh."

"You can't possibly have missed me already." I dismissed.

"Yes, I can. A second apart felt like too long." He said, in his best host voice. Then he kissed me again.

We arived at the reception. Everyone agreed we were a beautiful couple; young, but capable. There were gifts, and speeches. My father gave a very standard one about how splendidly he and Tamaki got on. It seemed the whole thing with the rejection of his proposal had just been a jolly, well-natured joke. Who would have thought it?

We danced our first dance there together. It was nice, in it's own way. I was deliberately wearing flats so I could dance, but it made him seem so much taller than me. When we spun, my head was level with his cheek. It was nice, in a way, to be that close together. I just had to try and forget about all the eyes, watching us, judging us. We span. I forgot, for just a little while. And I hoped. When he kissed the top of my head, tenderly, I hoped even harder.

As the evening progressed, I danced with endless people. Family, my friends, people I didn't even know. Dancing with someone as tall as Mori-senpai was interesting and brief, as was dancing with someone of Honey-senpai's diminutive stature. One of the twins had more grace than the other, though I couldn't place which one, with my attention elsewhere. I didn't dance with Haruhi, and neither did Tamaki. I think he was probably disappointed, when he had to dance with so many of his customers, but with the high proportion of people from school there, there was no way Haruhi could have dressed as a girl; and so no way they could dance. I was secretly glad of it. Tamaki and I were passed relentlessly from person to person without stopping. I remained smiling, despite desperately needing a break. Still, the one who dominated my time that night was Tamaki, although sometimes we had barely a minute to dance before being parted again. It made me happy, to see his delighted smile every time our eyes met, and every time he got to dance with me again. I began to wonder if perhaps it wasn't a delusion after all. Perhaps he did love me, and my own paranoia stopped me believing it. He had once made me promise to trust him to love me, and I had. It was about time I started to fufil that promise, and believe he loved me, believe that I could love him, and believe that we could be happy.

My dreams lasted for most of that reception. Towards the end, as the hour grew late, Tamaki and I were dancing again, swaying close together, my head against his cheek again. Yet I could somehow feel, in his stiffness, that it wasn't me he was paying attention to. Before I had always felt his face, and his attention, had been directed towards me somehow. Now he was looking at something behind me. The man was meant to lead, but I gently directed us into a spin so I could see what had caught his focus.

Haruhi. Of course. She was standing alone, watching the dancers and trying to go as unnoticed as possible. She seemed so lonely, and somehow sad. I wondered if she was finally becoming aware of her feelings as she watched us dance, becoming aware of them just a little too late. I lost sight of her as we completed our turn, and I knew Tamaki had resumed watching her, and worrying about her. I felt a stab of despair. If I didn't even command his attention today, how could I ever win?

"Tamaki." I blurted out in desperation of jealousy. He drew back slightly to look at me, to show he was listening. Yet, I had no idea what to say. Calling out his name had been a childish demand to be acknowledged, like a toddler showing off in front of their parents. I suddenly felt bad, remembering my dream. He had called the father of the bride 'Ranka'. In another life, Haruhi should have been stood in my place. I had the rest of my life with Tamaki. I could give them a few minutes. "Tamaki... Don't you think Haruhi looks lonely?"

"O-oh, I guess she does..."

"Go and talk with her." I instructed, pushing him gently away. "I feel sorry for her."

"But we were-"

"I need a rest." I smiled, to stay the protest. Tamaki smiled back, and pushed his way through the other remaining dancers. I was left standing alone. With the solitude, there was only my emotions, clamouring for attention. I was feeling a thousand different things, from total resignation to burning anger to weeping despair. I stood and waited to see which would overwhealm me first.

As I stood there, however, my thoughts were inturrupted by a group of girls, who had come with their families but attended Ouran. They approached me slightly nervously, and I wondered vaugely if they were actually going to speak to me or if they all hated me now for taking Tamaki from them.

"Um... Suoh-chan?" One of them asked, sounding worried. I may not have realised I was the one being addressed, quite frankly, but for the fact she was looking directly at me.

"Yes?"

"We just... we wanted to apologise!" She gabbled, bowing slightly. Behind her, amidst murmered affirmations of their intentions, the other girls did the same. I frowned.

"You're quite forgiven, I'm sure, but what for?" I asked in confusion.

"We've been unfair to you." Another piped up. "All this time, we thought your relationship with Tamaki-kun had been forced on him by your families and that you didn't... well, really love one another... that Tamaki-kun's efforts didn't, exactly, mean much to you..." She seemed worried she had offended me because she added hastily: "But we were wrong!"

"That's right!" The first took over again. "When we saw you together today, we realised... Oh, you are in love, aren't you?! And... you must have been hiding it all this time for the benefit of the host club customers!"

I remained silent. I never was one for killing dreams. Seemingly overcome, the girl suddenly lurched forward, seemingly on a whim, and hugged me. I had never known such genuine affection in a hug, and it made me feel more dishonest than ever.

"Thank you, Kotoko-san." She said. "And... we're really sorry! I know you'll be happy... you'll make each other happy."

"Thank you." I replied stiffly, and made my excuses. I imagine they thought I had been so touched as to be overcome myself. I was close to tears, yes, but mostly because I felt so dishonest. I had all my illusions that this was a reality so creuly torn away, and their words just made things worse. I hastened out into the garden of the hotel we were hosting the reception in, and breathed deeply in the night air.

I would not cry. I never cried, I did not allow myself that lack of control. Besides, everyone would know, it would smudge my make-up. Yet, tonight, it was difficult. I knew this was my reason. I had known it wasn't going to be easy. I would learn to love him. I would let him love me. That would make up for my brother's death. That would justify my being here instead of him, or so I thought. I could only hope it would be enough.

"Kotoko-senpai...?" Haruhi's voice called to me. She had followed me outside. "Um, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, thank you, I just needed a rest." I forced a smile. "I thought Tamaki was entertaining you."

"I just needed a rest." Haruhi countered, coming hesitantly to stand beside me. "Actually... I saw you leave and I thought you might want to talk; and I think I'm maybe your closest thing to a girl friend, so..." She trailed off, awkwardly, and we stood in silence for a long moment.

"Do you love him, Haruhi?" I asked.

"Who?" She replied, in such genuine confusion it was obvious she was refusing to even entertain the notion of loving another person's husband. "I'm not in love with anyone yet..."

"But one day?"

"Yeah, maybe." She shrugged. "I guess it would be nice, but... what about you?"

"Me?" I forced a chuckle. "Haruhi, you're at my wedding..."

"But... do you love Tamaki-senpai? I know he thinks the world of you."

"Yes. I do." I said, firmly. "I'll admit... I'm a little nervous. We're very young. But I'm sure we'll manage."

"Well, I guess, if you're in love it'll work out." Haruhi said, with a smile that seemed just a little sad. I wondered if she was thinking of her parents again or of herself. "I'm sure you'll be happy."

"I am happy." I answered. "...Thank you, Haruhi. Although, you know, the twins are probably closer to being 'girl friends' than you."

She smiled wryly at the light tease, and excused herself. I stood alone, pondering. A moment later, someone else approached. One of Haruhi's customers from the club, I realised. It took me a second to work out if she was a buisness associate of ours or of the Suoh. She was the daughter of a pharmecutical company, so I assumed ours. She hovered awkwardly for a moment.

"Kotoko-senpai..." She said. "Um, Haruhi-kun said you might want to borrow these!" She pressed something into my hand and left without another word, never breathing the slightest hint of the encounter to anyone else. I uncurled my fingers and saw tissues, and a mascara wand. Horrified, I pressed a hand to my face. It was dry now, but there was clear evidence of make up running. I had been crying without realising it. I wondered if I had been blubbing when Haruhi saw me, or her customer. It was a disgraceful sign of weakness. I got to work cleaning up before I could venture back inside. I left the mascara and the remainder of the tissues on the little stone balcony. I hope she got them back.

I had no idea why I had been crying. Now it was done with, it seemed such a silly thing. I had to remember that more than love, more than fufilling my purpose in living, this marriage had been about buisness. Love was not a factor, not really. It was desirable rather than necessary to the relationship. Tamaki would always love me, or pretend to. So there was no problem. I went back inside, and just had time to catch Tamaki's eye. He was heading over to me, but before we met, I was waylaid by my mother.

"There you are, Kotoko! Honestly, whoever heard of the bride hiding themselves away? But come along, you need to get changed." She began draging me to one of the upstairs rooms.

"Again?" I said, aghast, and was informed that it was almost time for us to leave, and apparantly one could not leave a party in the same outfit one arrived in. This made very little sense to me until my mother snapped:

"Well, if you want to complete a six hour journey in an evening dress, Kotoko, you're perfectly welcome too."

It was then, of course, that I realised an evening dress was not really suitable attire to go on a honey moon in. I removed my make up- for the most part- and my hair was released to fall loose as it usually did. I changed into clothes that I felt more comfortable in- brand new, of course, and a little bit more special than what I usually wore, but trousers and a blouse all the same. My mother insisted I pinned the front of my hair back with some glittering clips, but that was all. It was time to go.

"Mother," I said, for it had suddenly occured to me. "I have no luggage."

"Of course you do." She laughed. "I had some of the maids pack for you. It's all in the car ready for you. And don't worry, I checked to make sure that there's everything you need."

The emphasis she put on 'everything' made me feel slightly uneasy, but there wasn't much time for that. I met Tamaki standing just outside the hall, and smiling, hand in hand, we went and bid everyone a goodbye before getting into a car. People waved and called out blessings as we left. As they faded, it seemed very still, and very quiet.

"That was lovely." Tamaki said, eventually, sitting next to me in the dark.

"I suppose so." I agreed. "Although the catering left something to be desired."

He laughed and pulled me close to him. "Uh-oh, I think somebody's tired." He teased.

"I'm fine." I lied, annoyed at his mockery. On the inside, I was snapping that it was half past eleven and I had been up since five, of course I was tired.

"Then you must be unhappy." He sighed in mock sadness. "I thought it was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, but you were more concerned that the sandwiches were a little soggy."

"If they were any soggier, Tamaki, it would require them to be submerged in water." I dismissed. "But... I am happy."

"So am I." He whispered, and held my hand. The rest of the journey passed in silence, admittedly because I must have fallen asleep not long after that. I did not dream of my phantom. I was certain I never would again.

At any rate, the next thing I became aware of was Tamaki gently shaking my shoulder in the early hours of the following morning.

"Kotoko, darling, wake up. We're here." It was obviously not the first time he had called me, but at my lack of response, he tried again. "Sweetie, we're here..."

I, however, did not want to move. I wasn't awake enough to process what he was saying and dismissed the voices as irrelevant, seeking deeper sleep.

"I think I'll have to carry her." He remarked in amusement to the driver. "Could you please go and unlock the door?"

Something in the phrase 'carry her' wormed it's way into my brain, and tried to rouse the rest of me, warning of the embarassement factor. Yet it was too late. Grunting just slightly, Tamaki somehow pulled me up into his arms. Years of strict diets meant I was very light, but still, it can't have been easy to take me up so gently. Embarassement curled in my stomach, and I stirred properly, dragging my eyes open.

"Tamaki?"

"Just carrying you over the threshold." he joked, softly. "Ssh, now. Go back to sleep. It's okay. I'm sorry I woke you."

I did as he said, because I was tired, and because I didn't want to be aware of what was happening because it was too humiliating to be thought about. I was vaugely aware of being placed gently down on a bed; he took my shoes off and covered me over. The first night of our marriage passed like that, and nothing like the 'wedding night' jokes the twins had been making for the last month.

I still did not dream of my phantom. Oblivion was blessed.

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A/N: Ahaha, a short chapter. My apologies for that, but we'll see a lot of variation in chapter length from now on because, well, it was hard to know where to divide the story up. I hope it'll all work out okay. And I'm about to try uploading this at college, so lets hope it works, ne? :D Disclaimers as usual.

On a note of random trivia, I had a really hard time with Kotoko's dress for the wedding. Really. The gloves/no gloves debate was one going on inside my head, haha. Oh well!

Next time, then, it's the honeymoon chapter. I wonder what they'll get up to? (And it might not be what you think. One hopes. XD) Please join me then!