Ten- Time
We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries.
The first time was the worst, but after that, it got better. What I remember most about that first time was the following morning. Normally a maid came in and woke us, but I daresay she came in this time, and when we did not immediately stir, she had to look in. After that, she was probably embarrassed, and went to fetch Shima-san. True to form, Shima-san did not bat an eye at the two of us tangled together- thankfully beneath the duvet- and simply said:
"Tamaki-san, if you don't both get up, you'll be late for school."
We got up, and immediately started blushing. At least mine were not as noticeable as his. Still, we could not look at each other. I escaped to the bathroom and showered and dressed. Tamaki did the same in another bathroom. We were unusually quiet at breakfast, which was a little worrying, but then, in the car on the way to school, he gripped my hand reassuringly. I knew then that it was fine.
There was one moment during that day that I particularly recall. Considering the amount of jokes the twins had made at our expense, I was quite surprised that afternoon when, after a lunch time where Tamaki and I had barely glanced at one another except for the occasional smile, we stood to leave, and I heard Kaoru mutter to his brother:
"They've done it."
I really did blush then. Was it that obvious, and in that case, was it obvious we hadn't before? I tried not to react, as it seemed Tamaki hadn't heard; and tried to pretend I hadn't either. For the rest of that afternoon, however, I did try to watch Tamaki from the point of view of an impartial observer, and I noticed something too. He seemed constantly embarrassed or nervous or pleased by turns. I wondered if I was giving out the same signals. If I was, no wonder Kaoru had us all worked out.
I kept a careful, almost paranoid check on my body language after that. I also studied Haruhi's, but she behaved no differently. Kaoru had obviously decided not to divulge his theory to her. I was glad of it- we were safe.
And then I wondered why, even so many months into my marriage, I still felt like I was somehow stealing Tamaki from her; why I felt like an illegitimate mistress hiding on the sides and trying not to be caught. What Tamaki and I's relationship was or was not was nobody's business but ours. I had to remind myself of that constantly.
Still, there was no denying that something changed between Tamaki and I that day. There was something desperate in our nights together, if we went further we could tell ourselves we loved each other more. We needed that confirmation, or I did. In the day, we felt happy or criminal in turn, and both gave a sick thrill. And the nights we did, I did not dream of my phantom. This, then, was my reason. This time, it had to be. I was sure of it.
Considering how sure I was, I really should have realised sooner. It was a Saturday morning, rain was tapping on the window, and we were sleeping in late. I was awake, more or less, but in that pleasant state of half consciousness where I wasn't thinking too much; not enough yet, to be embarrassed at the intimacy. I had not seen my phantom the night before, and for once, I felt peaceful. It occurred to me, when I pressed my forehead to Tamaki's, that mine was much warmer than his, and that might have something to do with it, but I pushed the thought aside. It felt pleasant.
Then the nausea started. No time to be gentle or gradual. I jerked away from Tamaki, startling him awake, and ran for the bathroom, tugging on my dressing gown as I went. I made it just in time, and erupted over the toilet bowl. The room smelt of vomit.
"Poor Kotoko..." Tamaki murmured, sleepy and sympathetic, rubbing my back as I finished what I had begun. "You're really not very well at the moment, are you? I should have made you stay off school the past few days."
"I think I have a fever this morning too..." I replied, taking deep breaths. The nausea was beginning to subside, as it always did. Unfortunately, I still felt full of cold, my temperature high, my head aching, and my sinuses blocked.
"Perhaps you should see a doctor." Tamaki was saying, worriedly. "This is the fourth morning you've had sickness like this, and I've never known you to get ill before…"
Something of his sentence finally got through my foggy brain.
Morning... sickness.
I froze.
"Kotoko, sweetheart? Are you okay?" He asked me, full of concern.
I ignored him, performing some mental calculations. It was possible. Entirely possible. And with the morning sickness, very probable. I ran from the room.
"Kotoko?!"
I ignored him again, dashed past him. I had started down the stairs, and to my great relief, saw Shima-san passing in the hall below.
"Shima-san!" I called, panicking slightly. "I think I might need-"
"A pregnancy test?" She completed, mildly. "I thought you might, Kotoko-san, so I've had one placed in your bathroom cabinet."
I loved that woman, and her efficient ways; though if she had suspected I was pregnant, I wished she had said something. I dashed back to Tamaki's room, past a confused Tamaki who had thankfully not heard the exchange, and into the bathroom. He went to follow me, but I slammed the door and locked it. He remained, bewildered, outside; as I dug out a test and, not letting myself think about it too much, used it.
Those were the longest minutes of my life, waiting for the result; though my high temperature stopped me really thinking anything specific. When it came, I stared at it for a moment, and then put it down, not sure if I was relieved or not. I sat on the floor by the bath, thinking, but not about anything in particular, a swirl of fever in my mind. Someone knocked on the bathroom door.
"Kotoko-san." Shima-san called. "Let me in, please."
"Is Kotoko alright?!" Tamaki was asking, anxiously. "Tell me what's happening!" He begged.
"You will wait here, Tamaki-san." Shima-san replied sternly, as I took the lock off the door. She came in and locked it behind her, as I went and resumed my position by the bathtub. She went and examined the stick for herself.
"Congratulations." She said, without smiling.
"Thank you." I answered, without smiling.
"Are you pleased?" She asked.
"I'm not sure yet." I confessed. To my surprise, the fierce old lady came and sat down next to me, right next to me, on the floor of the bathroom.
"And why might that be?" She asked, mildly.
"I'm not sure I'm ready to be a mother." I said, feeling ridiculous even saying it. The concept was entirely foreign to me.
"No-one ever is." Shima-san dismissed. "That's why nature gives you nine months to get used to the idea."
"The pregnancy is the bit I'm dreading." I said. "You hear such stories..."
"I'll be here to help, Kotoko-san." She said. "It's not my first time, either, so you needn't worry."
I frowned, not sure what she meant. "I didn't think you had children, Shima-san?"
Shima-san snorted. "Of course not. But you're not the first woman I've helped through a pregnancy." She paused slightly. "Did you ever wonder how I came to serve the Suoh family?"
I shook my head. In all honesty, I had assumed that she had simply been employed like all the other servants. Still, I thought this would offend her, so I did not voice it.
"Then allow me to tell you a story." She said, simply, and she did. She told it in her usual, straight-forward, matter-of-fact way, with no nonsense, even her emotions such as they were, were all reported as fact. Sitting on the floor by the bathtub, Shima-san told me a sad story. Her story, and that of Tamaki's grandmother.
Shima-san, as it turned out, had not been born into the domestic class. In fact, her family had been great, once, making carriages and then cars and vehicles. The company had fallen on hard times, she revealed, thanks to her grandfather's poor management and the Great Depression of the 1930s. Still, it got by, and in a facade of respectability- her father knowing image was as important to credibility as any stock and investment portfolio- they had saved and scrimped in order to send Shima-san, their only daughter, to a respectable private girls school, in this case Lobelia academy- even then, the elite and the best. It was there, Shima-san told me, that she met Honeka Kurami. Who would one day become Honeka Suoh, the mother to Tamaki's father, and grandmother to Tamaki himself.
The Kurami were an old-money family. They had disappeared into obscurity by now, because when the Americans came after the war, they stripped them of much of their wealth; as they did to so many aristocratic families. The Kurami were one of the last to go, however, and at the time were still very much important. They ended up in the same class, and were assigned seats next to each other. In comparison to her, Shima-san knew, the daughter of the Kurami may as well have been a princess. She was pleased, therefore, to take the friendship as it came. I was sceptical at first, but Shima-san assured me, in those days, neither of them had their old age or their bitterness. Life had not yet marked them. Honeka was a girl with a bright smile, and she smiled often.
Even then, Shima-san told me, she could see the beginning of her subordinate position. Honeka had the confidence that could only come with wealth. She didn't realise doing her favours could cause trouble for people. They did, Shima-san said, but she was willing to do them; because when Honeka decided to help you, she did it with all her heart. Besides, she simply didn't realise when her demands were too much. No-one could call her arrogant. Ignorant, certainly, but also beautiful and generous when the occasion arose. If something interested her, she was devoted to it. And it was true, Shima-san said, of their friendship. Her parents were delighted. So was Shima-san. Here was someone, she said, who didn't look down on her because of her lack of wealth.
Shima-san commented then that, in that respect, Tamaki was like her. I got a chill at the words, and prayed Tamaki would not age like his grandmother had.
The difference was, though, that Honeka was very aware of the value of wealth, and had it in mind to change her friend's situation by helping her marry above her station. So, whenever the Kurami had a dinner party, or a ball, or anything of the sort, Shima-san was brought out and paraded. It was at one such gathering that they met Teyan Suoh. Tamaki's grandfather. Honeka loved him, and as she loved him, she was devoted to him. Shima-san was aware of this, and so, treated him with every kindness. He did the same for her, dancing with her, and speaking with her, just as much as he did with Honeka. For a time, the three of them were inseparable. Everyone said what a fine young couple Honeka and Teyan were. Honeka loved him.
And so did Shima-san, there, in the dark corners of her heart that she refused to give light to.
It was an ugly business, she muttered quietly, when the engagement was decided. They were at Teyan's house, in the parlour, being served tea. He was only in the next room, talking with his father. When he lost his temper, his words were clearly audible.
"Marry Honeka? Father, I thought I was obvious- I am in love with Shima!"
"Shima-san?" His father had repeated. "Don't be absurd."
"I'm not, father, I have already resolved I will marry her."
"Marry her! Marry Shima?! And who is her family? What are her connections? No, my boy, you be realistic and marry the Kurami girl. It would be the smartest move. And she's very pretty."
Shima-san had frozen, unsure what to do, until her friend stood and said she would see herself out. Shima-san followed her, protesting that she had not encouraged him and that she would not marry him even if he asked her, at which point Honeka replied:
"Shima, if he asks you, you would be mad to turn him down." She said. "He loves you, but he would also be mad to ask you over me given our relative positions. One of us will lose here, and one of us will win, through neither fault nor effort of our own. I don't hold you responsible for his words. We will wait and see."
A few months later, Honeka and Teyan were married. Shima-san was a bridesmaid, where she belonged. Everyone agreed, the bride and groom were a beautiful couple. Not so long after the wedding, Shima-san said, her family's company ran into serious difficulty. At that time, although they had only kept in touch by the occasional letter, Honeka stepped in to help. Shima-san lowered herself, and took on a role as a kind of lady-in-waiting or companion, helping to run the household. Their friendship was rekindled, then, in the long hours alone in the house while Teyan worked. On one occasion, Honeka admitted, her lack of communication was because she had feared Teyan still loved Shima-san.
The problem was, however, he did. By this time, Shima-san said, Honeka was beginning to change. Entrapment in a loveless marriage, with a completely uninterested husband, had carved the first lines of cruelty around her mouth. Still, she was trying. Things were made worse, because, as hard as Shima-san tried, she was bound to bump into Teyan around the house. In those meetings, his affections were obviously as strong as ever. As for Shima-san, I daresay she kept her feelings as hidden then as she did when she told me the story, in the bathroom of the second Suoh mansion. Honeka must have noticed too. Those were the days, Shima-san said, when she felt she stopped being treated as a friend and confidant and more as a servant with ideas above her station. Honeka fought even harder for Teyan's attention. She succeeded to some extent. When she was hanging over a toilet bowl with morning sickness apparently far worse than mine, she was grateful.
"I'll give him a child." She said, happily. "Then he will love me."
She was convinced it would work, and was happy for a time. So was Teyan, pleased that he would soon be a father, proud of his wife's ever more conspicuous bump. For a little while, they were a real couple. When his son was born, Teyan couldn't have been more pleased.
Yet still, it wasn't enough. Teyan would still find reasons to talk to Shima-san, unconsciously watch her whenever she was in the room. He was trying, Shima-san said, to forget his feelings just as she was. But it was not enough. There was nothing they could do. They were tightly gripped by emotions they could not act upon, but that they could not escape from. Shima-san busied herself, while Honeka was pregnant, with looking after her friend and preparing for the baby's arrival. I'm sure Honeka would not have gotten through that time without her, from the sound of things. While she was pregnant, Honeka claimed Teyan's attention, and Shima-san was finally pushed aside just a little. As the child was born, and grew, and started to toddle, Shima-san became the focus again, despite everyone's best efforts. Things ended very quickly.
"Shima." Honeka said, one day, as Shima was pouring tea for both of them. "I'm having you moved."
"Excuse me?" Shima-san asked.
"You're being moved. I don't need you here any more." She dismissed. "I want you to go and look after the second mansion."
"Honeka." Shima-san said, tentatively. "Is this because Teyan...?"
"You will address me as Suoh-san!" Honeka snapped. "And don't act innocent with me! I know you have slept with him!"
"I haven't!" Shima-san protested, shocked. "How could you believe that of me?"
"Well, fine, maybe not physically." Honeka sneered. "But you're encouraging him! Why else does he dream of you?! As long as you're here, he will not look at me!"
"If I have done anything to encourage him, it was by accident." Shima-san swore. "Now, please, reconsider. All the maids respect my authority here. And your son! Haven't I taken good care of him?"
"Yes, as if you were his mother!" Honeka snapped. "You're lucky I'm not firing you, Shima-san, and the only reason I haven't is out of respect for a past friendship- though it seems you don't mind betraying me!"
"I haven't."
"You will start at the second mansion today." Honeka said, firmly. "And if you don't like it you can leave!"
Shima-san went to work at the second mansion. She had nowhere else to go. She had forgotten everything she had known about moving in society's circles, and she had no connections behind her- her family's company had gone. Marriage seemed to be out of the question, at least in that social circle. She had nothing to do but continue her work. Not that there was much to do in the second mansion at the time. No-one lived there except herself and a few other servants; most of them came and went. Yet, they stayed, making sure the house was immaculate in case the Suoh ever came calling. They didn't. Still they stayed, and cleaned an empty house.
Then, many years later, it was not empty any more. Tamaki had arrived. Shima-san's duties, I knew, would not have technically increased as he was already too old for a nanny, but she quickly took him and his education in hand. Tamaki had told me all about Shima-san, and how she would constantly lecture him in etiquette and behaviour, brutally stripping away anything of his French culture that would contradict Japanese manners. When he struggled with anything more than basic kanji, she herself had been his tutor. She had been harsh, Tamaki said, but patient, cajoling him through many long hours. He was fluent enough in terms of spoken language, but had little practise in reading and writing, and Shima-san went to amend this. I remember one occasion, before we even started dating, when I first visited Tamaki; I went into the house, only to find everything was labelled with thousands of post-it notes. I had been shown into a sitting room (also covered in yellow labels), and had been wondering why the television was labelled as 'toothbrush' when I had met Shima-san for the first time. She had informed me that Tamaki was 'practising' and I was not to correct him yet- he had to recognise his own mistakes.
When I heard Shima-san's story that day, sitting on the bathroom floor with a positive pregnancy test on the side of the sink, I thought back to that time, and wondered if she too was looking back and recognising her own mistakes, such as they were. All she had done was fall in love, take a job she needed, care for a child. They were only mistakes with hindsight.
Something of her story stuck within me, scared me a little. "I will give him a child, then he will love me.". That had not worked out too well for her. Was Tamaki's grandmother some twisted omen of my own future? Would a life of always being second twist me as it had her?
I had a strange moment of calmness then. I suddenly recognised that it already had. I was tormented by nightmares, obsessed with my dead brother, convinced there had been some sort of supernatural reason he had died while I lived, sure I had to find my own fate.
I was going mad.
The thought scared me, and I calmed myself down. I wasn't going mad. Finding my reason was no more than anyone else did. I was just more aware. Besides, I was still aware, I still had my senses. The dreams showed me another world, but they weren't driving my mind mad. They were merely my motivation, my driving force. The way my phantom reminded me to get on with things.
Yet, surely he would leave me alone now. I was pregnant, the child was on it's way. I had achieved my purpose. This was my reason.
"You needn't look so worried." Shima-san was saying next to me, though I had completely missed whatever had preceded it. "I will be happy to help you, Kotoko-san. Now, I see you're shivering. You're clearly unwell- it's time you went back to bed." Surprisingly spry, she climbed to her feet, helping me up too and leading me to the door.
"Shima-san." I said. My moment of lucidity had passed, the fever sending my mind back into a fog. "Shima-san, is this fever from the morning sickness?"
"Of course not, Kotoko-san." She said, impatiently. "You just have a cold. It's unfortunate that the two have coincided, but it can't be helped. You just need some rest." With that, she took me out of the bathroom and over to the bed, where she pulled back the covers and fixed me with such a look that suggested she expected me to reoccupy it immediately. I was glad to comply. My head was starting to ache, and I had a feeling sleep would be the best way to escape dozens of thoughts buzzing in my head like bees. I was almost glad of the fever. Everything had taken on a strange dream-like quality, so finding I was pregnant had not been as much of a shock.
"Shima-san!" Tamaki was protesting as Shima-san went to leave. "What's wrong with Kotoko? You must tell me!"
"You will cancel the club on Monday," Shima-san said calmly. "To accompany Kotoko-san to the clinic after school. In the meantime, she needs rest. You will come with me now and not disturb her."
"Is she very ill?" Tamaki said, frightened now.
"No." Shima-san snorted. "She just has a fever. Sleep will be the best cure."
"But... if she needs to see a doctor... it must be more serious! Can't we just call the family doctor to come here? We shouldn't wait until Monday."
"You are worrying unnecessarily, and Kotoko-san will need to be seen in a clinic. Come on, now, out you go. I really must insist that she is left alone."
"I'll be there in a minute." Tamaki said, reluctantly. I heard Shima-san sigh and leave the room. Tamaki came over beside me, sitting on the bed, and squeezing my hand. "Do you want me to call for the doctor, Kotoko, sweetheart?"
"No." I said. "I'm really fine. I'll just have a nap."
I considered telling him then and getting it over and done with, but then I thought he would, as I had, connect the fever incorrectly with the pregnancy and panic. It was better to wait. Besides, tests could be wrong. Perhaps I would just let the doctor tell him.
"Alright." He said, smiling kindly at me. "Sleep well, darling."
I tried to, but I saw my phantom. It seemed he would not leave me alone until the child was born. Still, I was glad to see my brother. No matter how old he was when I saw him, he always seemed to be doing so much better than me.
Tamaki came to bed later that night, and felt me stir.
"I'm sorry." He whispered. "Did I wake you?"
"No." I answered. "I was awake anyway... I slept a lot today."
"How are you feeling?"
"Better. I think I'll be fine in the morning."
"Good. Now, go back to sleep. Goodnight."
I let him lie down and get himself settled before I spoke again. I had decided to get it over and done with after all.
"Tamaki? I'm pregnant."
I felt Tamaki freeze in shock, and determined to go back to sleep before he could regain animation and start interrogating me.
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A/N: Hmm, maybe this chapter was a little irrelevant, but once I thought of it, I had to put it in. When I started this story, I wanted to draw parallels between Kyouya and Kotoko, but in this chapter it was more parallels between her and Tamaki's grandmother. Who's name I could not find anywhere. Seriously! So if I got it wrong, I apologise.
On a note of random trivia, I can't help but feel Kotoko needs to meet a Tohru. I get the feeling a lot of Ouran fans also like Fruits Basket, so I think I can say that! I'm re-reading the manga (again) right now, and no matter how many times I do, I love it. I feel like I've watched them grow up… But I only have volumes 1-21, so nobody spoil the end for me!! Anyway, I'd like to write a story like that one day, where people care about the characters that much. Oh yes, disclaimers as usual. (Of course).
Next time, then, Kotoko has a pregnancy to get through- and Tamaki to deal with. Something finally happens to Haruhi, the twins put in an appearance, and will it be a boy or a girl? Hee hee, you'll have to wait and see! Thanks for reading!