Guest: Thank you very much!

argenteuvipera: Hi again! Yeah, the intention was to show that both sides were in the wrong, but because it's Kosuke's POV and she has a huge self-loathing issue, she takes most of the blame for not keeping in touch with everyone. She thinks it's only fair since she didn't put a lot of effort into her relationships before, while others like Tamaki and Minami can't really swallow the idea of leaving someone who just went through something so terrible. I can say that the issue with the loan shark isn't quite over just yet, and I'll also say that I don't plan for Ageha (Hikaru and Kaoru's sister) to appear in the fic. I'd completely forgotten her existence in canon, and by the time I'd remembered, it seemed like it would be weird to have her be mentioned/appear so late. I definitely regret it! There are some things I'd like to change about this fic in hindsight, and that's one of them. Anyways, thanks again!

scars from the sun: Aw, thanks!

Wishfulhamadryad: Thank you! While the last chapter was definitely a wake-up call for Kosuke about her tendency to avoid issues, she has not yet realized that that also means seeking out help from others. But, we'll be getting to that very soon. Thanks!

Alnitak8: Thank you! I have no plans to discontinue this fic - all chapters are planned through, it's just a matter of writing them...and learning how to deal with low-energy episodes. I appreciate your patience!

CaityJoy: Here you are! lol

After the past few days and all the headaches that came with them, Kyoya thinks it's only a matter of time before he's confronted by Tamaki. He's only going to be sated by elephant-ignoring small talk for so long, and if he had been impatient with Kyoya and Kosuke before, he must be writhing in agony after Saturday. It would be better, Kyoya decides the next week during class, to seek him out himself and be done with it.

When he sees Kyoya approaching in the school hallway, Tamaki perks up and deflates at the same time, somehow. He meets him more than halfway, sidestepping them into one of the many indoor gardens for an iota of privacy.

"We still haven't talked," Kyoya says before he can speak. "Given what happened on Saturday, you can guess why."

Tamaki nods somberly. "I'm not surprised, but I was hoping otherwise."

"We'll work it out eventually," Kyoya says to soothe him, but he must admit: his gratitude for his friends' worry is beginning to thin. He knows it's because they care, but this is between him and Kosuke, not him and Kosuke and Tamaki and Hikaru and Kaoru and Haruhi and Fuyumi and everyone else. "Just give us some more time."

"No, that's—Well, I am worried about you two, of course. But Kosuke, she's been acting strange. Different than before, I mean." Tamaki looks over his shoulder to make sure the friend in question is not nearby. "She talks to us here at school, but when she's at home, she doesn't respond to any of our text messages or calls. She says it's just because she's forgetting, or she's been busy. Once I asked her if she could just text me anything so I knew she was okay, and she still didn't."

Kyoya would not have known this, as neither he nor Kosuke had texted or called one another for days now. Not that there was nothing to talk about, but they were at a stalemate on who would reach out first. Kyoya had had the mind to do so Saturday morning. He would say that he had changed his mind because, after meeting and departing from her friends all over again, he had feared she was in an even worse state than before.

The complete truth, however, is that his conversation with Kohta still replays in his mind in every moment of silence.

"Maybe she just isn't in the mood to talk when she's home," Kyoya offers. "After everything that happened, I wouldn't blame her if she wanted to relax once she was through the door."

"Sure, sure. But…I know we can't make her talk if she doesn't want to, but I'm worried that she's isolating herself." Welcome to my world, Tamaki. "We only ever talk about our classes, and she's been turning down any plans we try to make to get together, even if it's just to get lunch. I would ask her myself, but…" Tamaki's lips twist uncomfortably.

Kyoya frowns deeper than he already is. "Did you two have an argument?"

"Not entirely. She…wasn't happy with how I treated her friends. We settled it, everything is fine now! But I don't want to push..." Tamaki twiddles his thumbs, almost pouting. "Me, specifically, I mean…"

"I understand that you're worried, but as you said, no one can force her to talk."

"So, we just need to wait?"

If someone else asked Kyoya for advice in such a situation, he would say yes. Unfortunately, they are talking about Kosuke, who lets problems fester to a boiling point, and stubbornly believes that she's accomplishing the opposite. For how exhausted he is by everyone's caring (border-lining on meddling), he knows what it is like to need space, just as he fears that space for Kosuke is food for a bad habit.

"Hey." From the hall, Kaoru emerges and joins them in the garden, with Renge beside him. He doesn't even have to ask what they're talking about. "Anything?"

Kyoya and Tamaki both shake their heads, and Kaoru sighs, reaching into his pocket. "Thought so. Look."

He pulls out his phone and turns it to them. The screen is opened on text messages between him and Kosuke—rather, text messages from him to Kosuke. Up to the very last message (What's the difference between jam, jelly, and marmalade?), there is not a single response.

Kyoya is not for a second under the belief that Kaoru genuinely cares about the differences in fruit preserves and knows that it was an attempt to cheer her up. For which he is grateful, and even more concerned at the lack of a paragraphs-long answer.

"If food can't get her to talk," says Kaoru, "I don't know what can."

"And look!" Renge shows them her phone as well and scrolls through her messages. And scrolls. And scrolls. "She hasn't given me any feedback on When Did I Become Cinderella?! yet. This is a cry for help, people!"

To that, none of them say what they're really thinking. While Tamaki asks after the others and their experiences, Kyoya takes notice of the glances they are getting from students passing by. None shall soon forget the screaming match the fiancés had had, whether they'd been present or not. Now, all eyes and ears are open for a new development. People who have never spoken to Kyoya or Kosuke a day in their lives will be talking about them to their friends over lunch, exchanging info about who heard that someone said that they heard this or that.

"Kyoya," says Tamaki, "what do you think we should do?"

Mind your own business, Kyoya thinks before he can stop himself, and then he's back in reality. Tamaki, Renge, and Kaoru are his friends. This is more than just his and Kosuke's fight, now. He's being selfish.

"I think that all we can do is wait," he says. "For a little longer, at least, and then—"

His phone rings.

He sees how their lips purse to hold back sighs. Just the same as they had done Saturday when they were all waiting for Kosuke's return after she took off running for her friends, and Kyoya—her fiancé, her "beloved and beloving"—took a phone call that summoned him away. Perhaps they're judging. Or maybe they're worried. Can friends do both?

Kyoya says nothing to excuse or explain himself; he merely turns his back to them and steps a few feet away. He picks up on the third ring. "Hello?"

"Yoo-hoo," Fuyumi sings on the other end. "How are you doing? Did you eat breakfast this morning?"

"Yes. As I did yesterday, and the day before that."

"You're talking like I have no reason to not believe you."

"Are you calling about lunch? It's too late today; I have a class in twenty minutes."

"No, no. I have some news. I convinced Dad to let me tell you."

"Bad news?"

"No! Well…Kind of." Kyoya almost hears her biting her lip. "It's about Mr. Ito's dinner."

Kyoya pinches the bridge of his nose and gives the deepest, heaviest sigh he thinks he's ever given.

"Yeah, I know."

Hiroyuki Ito is a family friend, and oh, how Kyoya wishes that he wasn't. He is the son of a friend of Yoshio's father, and Kyoya can only assume that Hiroyuki's father was a better man, because he remembered Grandfather Kazushi as having respectable tastes.

Mr. Ito is also a business partner of Ootori Medical, albeit not by much. Barely, even. Thanks to his father, Mr. Ito had inherited one of the best tire-manufacturing companies in the country, and perhaps even the world. Given, he had forfeited said inheritance to a younger cousin in favor of a creative consultant position. For…tires. Still, he kept the leverage to supply Ootori Medical-owned ambulances with tires for a fraction of the price.

Kyoya has thus known Mr. Ito for virtually all his life. He has done the math and knows how much money Ootori Medical saves through him, so he understands why such a partnership is needed.

That doesn't mean he has to like Mr. Ito. He has many reasons not to. For example, the first time Mr. Ito saw Kyoya with his glasses, he'd asked to inspect them, and Kyoya had handed them over because he was a trusting child. Then Mr. Ito had somehow managed to snap them, and instead of an apology, all he'd said to Jin was, "They just don't make them like they used to," before giving Kyoya the broken pieces.

For example, at Yuuichi and Itsumi's engagement party, Mr. Ito declared in his speech (that no one asked him to give) that he was surprised the two were tying the knot. After all, "with a face like Yuuichi's," it was a shock how any woman would look at him twice, let alone marry him.

For example, when Mr. Ito is around, Fuyumi tries not to be in the same room with him too long, or else he'll stare at her almost unblinkingly, and try to stay near her until it's physically impossible.

Kyoya has a lot of reasons. He's reminded of each and every one of them every year at Mr. Ito's birthday dinner, where he invites a small group of friends, family, and partners to celebrate. Kyoya knew it had been coming up, but it's always just as likely to happen the proper day of as two weeks before, or a month after.

"It's the usual place. Tomorrow at eight PM."

"I'll be sure to bring my acetaminophen. Thank you."

"Of course. Of course…So. How's it going with Kosuke?"

At least she's not beating around the bush. "Again, Fuyumi, I will let you know as soon as something changes."

"Okay, okay. Juuust checking in. She's not answering my texts. So. Just making sure everything is fine."

He can hear the restraint in her voice. She has taken the fight worse than Kyoya or Kosuke ever could. Which is very empathetic of her, and also incredibly draining.

"Everything is. Goodbye, Fuyumi."

He hangs up. Not to be mean, really, but she will stay there for hours waiting for a hint that something has changed.

Kyoya turns back and finds no one.

Finally, he thinks, but he doesn't feel it.

He doesn't tell Kosuke about the birthday dinner and doubts anyone does. No woman has ever been invited, and probably no woman has ever been offended. Sitting where he is, waiting for his turn at the billiards, Kyoya has never envied his mother and sister more.

The next play accomplishes nothing besides a chaotic scatter. Mr. Ito gives a full-chest guffaw and takes a swig of whiskey in celebration. "Come on, now, Touji. I told you to get better at this. At least make this hard for me."

"Looks like all that training didn't do any good," Touji sighs in good sportsmanship.

The truth is, no one ever makes the mistake of beating Mr. Ito at a game. Those who did are treated to a lot of snipping, grumbling, and depending on how many drinks Mr. Ito had thrown back, accusations of cheating. Then they are usually replaced at the next year's party, which would be a blessing if it wasn't also the sign that the Ito family is about to cut all ties with them.

This is why, when Mr. Ito's play is even worse, no one says a word. On Akito's turn, he makes a play at just the right balance between decent and still losing.

"See, Touji, that's more like it. Hey!" Mr. Ito snaps his fingers at the bartenders across the room. "Two Blue Herons. Bring 'em over."

If Kyoya is to credit Mr. Ito for anything, it's that the man's knowledge of alcohol is encyclopedic. He could very well list every bottle on the shelf with his eyes closed. Kyoya has never heard of "Blue Heron" before, but when an attendee brings the misty bottles over, he knows from the subtle twitch of Akito's nose what it is.

"I must confess, Mr. Ito," says Akito, "that I'm not much of a beer man."

"I don't think I asked, did I? Drink up."

Akito hides his pursed lips behind the bottle. He takes a few good swigs, long before Mr. Ito stops chugging. He hides his urge to gag well enough.

Make that another reason, Kyoya thinks.

Mr. Ito realizes something as he's drinking, and slams the bottle down. "I knew it! I knew I was forgetting something tonight. Yoshio! Yoshio, come here."

Yoshio excuses himself from his conversation and walks over. To his credit, when Mr. Ito claps a hand down on his shoulder, he doesn't so much as flinch. "Should've invited Mr. Amida to join us. Terribly rude of me not to."

"Don't worry, Hiroyuki. I doubt he would have enjoyed himself much here, if at all."

"What makes you say that?"

There's a warning in Mr. Ito's voice, but Yoshio dodges it. "Between you and I, he's a terrible billiards player."

So Mr. Ito guffaws again. Yoshio distracts him, so when the next play is a little too good, he is none the wiser.

It had never occurred to Kyoya to reach out to Shigeo, though not without reason. Kosuke seldom mentions him, and when she does, it's with disinterest. She speaks highly of him at social events, but even with all he had given her, it seemed that two decades of absence would not soon be forgotten. Kyoya doesn't think he's had a true and proper conversation with the man since meeting him, and has to remind himself sometimes that he will become Kyoya's father-in-law. Clearly, Kosuke does not quite consider him to be family outside of blood relation yet.

Ah, Sugimoto and Airi, of course. If they can't give any word on Kosuke, then no one can.

But what reason does Kyoya have to think that she would say something different, something honest, to them and not anyone else? The last time she had been sincere with him, it was about how she was keeping secrets from her grandparents.

Ah, I should have said something to Kohta when I had the chance.

"You're up, Kyoya. Show us what you're made of."

Yuuichi gives him a look as if Kyoya doesn't already know what to do. He looks over his options. Not too bad, not too good…

"Now Kyoya," Mr. Ito goes on, "you do me a favor, and let your father-in-law know there's no hard feelings."

"He already does, Mr. Ito, I promise."

He makes his play, but Mr. Ito gives no commentary this time. Yuuichi moves forward. "I saw that wife of yours—to-be wife, I guess—at…eh, which was it? The Taketa boy's party? Anyway, that's one pretty little thing you've snagged. Be grateful for it."

Kyoya nods and prays that he's not about to hear one of Mr. Ito's signature I hate my wife rants. "I am, sir. Very much so."

"Yes, a pretty, pretty little thing…I wouldn't blame you for being angry, yourself!" Mr. Ito takes another swig of Blue Heron and clarifies, "For her not being invited."

On the contrary, I thank you for it. "As you always say, sir, the rules are the rules."

Mr. Ito tips his bottle at him. "That they are. A man should be allowed his own kind of fun for his birthday. Only comes once a year! Shouldn't have to spend it worrying about being a gentleman, watching what he says and how loud, minding what he drinks, else there's a whole ruckus of squawking and crying. There is no more delicate creature on this planet than the female, I will tell you that much. Oh, now, what was that, Touji? Wrist still sore from last night?"

Touji's sheepish laugh (and perhaps, burning rage) seems to be Kyoya's all-clear, but no. Mr. Ito is still going.

"Or maybe yours is different. Is she?"

Kyoya gives a fake chuckle. "I don't think I would call my fiancée delicate, no."

"Oh, is that right? She doesn't mind it when you get a little rough?"

"I also don't think I would call myself rough, sir."

"Well, maybe you should fix that." Mr. Ito leans forward with a sneaky smile and eyes that are half-lidded and red-rimmed. "In my experience, it's usually the pretty, soft-looking ones like her that like it a little rough."

Kyoya no longer worries about strategizing for a subpar next play.

He is now much more worried that he is about to lunge across the table and wring Mr. Ito's neck.

Only by Yuuichi is Mr. Ito's life spared, but not in any way that Kyoya would ever expect.

"Mr. Ito." The room hushes. "That is my future sister-in-law that you are speaking about. I must demand that you do so more respectfully."

Everyone awaits, shuffling their feet, to see how Mr. Ito will react. Yoshio must have heard his eldest son, but Kyoya can hardly think of what he'll do, not when he himself has to keep his jaw from falling. Of all the things Mr. Ito had done and said over the years—rude, lecherous, aggressive—only now does Yuuichi snap? On Kosuke's behalf?

Mr. Ito swallows very audibly. His face is red, but whether it's alcohol, rage, humiliation, or some cherry-hued trio of the three, anyone could guess. He finishes his Blue Heron before he replies with sluggish annoyance. "Alright. Take a half-drunk geezer's apology, Kyoya. I shouldn't be talking about your lady like that."

Kyoya would oh so love to counter, HALF-drunk? He would oh so hate to do what he does, which is to say, "Apology accepted, sir."

It isn't even a matter of decorum—a word not to be found in the presence of Mr. Ito. No, Kyoya knows it's an apology as much as it is a warning. So does everyone else, as conversation resumes as though hit with a pause button, and Yuuichi makes the next play. He and Akito both keep their steely eyes on their hands.

Kyoya dares not try to meet his father's eyes, wary of what he'll find if he does. Mr. Ito rebounds in seconds, whether for short memory or a determination for high spirits, and goes back to ribbing players for their subpar moves and chortling at workplace stories.

The round ends just the way Mr. Ito likes—with competition falling apart in the last few rounds so that he can claim a landslide victory. He calls for a round of drinks and another game in the same breath, calling for new players, some by name. In the shift, Kyoya steps away unnoticed. Though, if the attendant had given Mr. Ito grape juice instead of the next Blue Heron he'd ordered, Kyoya doubts he'd notice that, either.

To take his mind off it, Kyoya seeks out old faces to reintroduce himself to. He asks the standard questions of family and career, with the charm that everyone remembers him for. He simply can't put his heart into it, but then, when did he ever? He's still too angry—at Mr. Ito and at himself, for letting Yuuichi be the one to humble him.

Now, he'd sooner walk across hot coals than subject Kosuke to this lovely little gathering, but he is reminded again of how sorely he misses her. The one thing he even remotely enjoyed about this whole evening was being able to take his mind off the matter, however slightly.

The balcony door might as well be propped open, for how frequently the gentlemen are using it. It's almost as if they're all taking turns, either to smoke or to detoxify themselves of Mr. Ito. Or, to smoke to detoxify themselves of Mr. Ito.

If they are taking turns, then Kyoya's is long overdue. Slowly as to not be noticed, but quickly as to not be waylaid, he steps out into the balcony, which stretches the wall of the suite from end to end.

By miracle or grace, the space furthest from the door, right at the end, is unoccupied. Even better, the windows are tinted, so he is unlikely to be seen from inside—and if he is, no one will have the right to judge him.

Leaning with his arms crossed against the railing, Kyoya must admit: if there is one loss to not having his apartment in one of these sky-soaring towers, it's this view. The city is all but glittering beneath him. He would think, after seeing it so many times, that it would lose its luster.

Kosuke had told him that vacations were few and far between for her family when she was younger—even if her parents could leave an employee or two in charge for their absence, they disliked it so much that they could only stomach it for a few days at most. They often went to Tokyo for their travels, and though they made the best of their time, it was never enough for young Kosuke, who wanted to do everything and more. She would urge her parents to hurry and blaze through this thing and the next, except when it came to views from skyscrapers. Only then would she have to be pulled away, or she would marvel at how big the world was, and how small she was, for hours.

Kyoya had replied that if they had known each other as children, they would have squabbled. Kyoya did everything slowly as a child. No matter how "adult" and "boring," he wanted to ingest every morsel.

Kosuke had said, "No, we wouldn't have gotten along, I don't think." At the time, Kyoya had thought she sounded somber.

Someone else joins him on the balcony, and at first, he doesn't spare them a glance—they're both here for the same reason, aren't they? But he does look up, rather alarmed, when the man comes much closer than he'd expected, stopping right beside him and resting his arms on the railing as he is.

"Just pretend that we're talking," says Akito.

Despite what had just transpired, Kyoya believes that Akito's hatred of Mr. Ito burns hotter than his. Kyoya had heard it said before that Akito had been somewhat of a "problem" child, but he had not always understood this, as he had no memory of Akito being anything less than the obedient son he was expected to be. He was older when he realized that Akito just had more questions than the rest of them.

One instance that Kyoya particularly remembers was Akito's birthday when Kyoya had accidentally stumbled upon Jin having to console him about Mr. Ito being present. Akito was steaming with all the righteous fury that his tween body could hold, demanding to know why the man who only spoke to Akito to tell him how "scrawny" he was had to be an honored guest. Jin had just cooed to him words of hollow comfort.

Maybe Akito is jealous of Yuuichi, too.

"You've got to be more careful."

Kyoya looks at his brother, who doesn't look back. "I'm sorry?"

Akito raises a hand, pinches his forefinger and thumb together. "I saw it on your face. You were this close to losing it."

Ah. The whole thing had happened so fast, Kyoya couldn't even remember how he'd physically responded. For how quickly Yuuichi replied, Akito must have had his eyes on Kyoya in an instant.

"I didn't," Kyoya answers, then adds, "Not that I would be without reason if I had."

"I never said that. But if someone else doesn't interrupt next time, you've got to keep yourself from smashing a glass against his head."

The way he says it, it's clear Akito finds that idea quite appealing. Kyoya concurs silently.

Akito pulls a small tin box from his pocket and shakes out a breath mint. Clearly, the aftertaste of Blue Heron has not been relieved yet. He moves to put the box back, pauses, and then hands the box out to Kyoya.

Kyoya hums his thanks, somewhat perplexed by the small show of consideration. Though, that's nothing to the confusion at what Akito says next:

"Fuyumi said you and Kosuke got into a fight."

It's hard to believe that Akito—whom Kyoya only ever speaks to when necessary, whose conversations in the past year have covered seldom anything else but work and their parents' divorce—would ask after something so personal of Kyoya's. It is so hard to believe, in fact, that Kyoya decides there is a scolding approaching, and a huff escapes him.

Akito raises a hand. "Alright, fine. Sorry that I said anything."

Confused again, and a bit guilty, Kyoya says, "It's not you, I'm just tired. The way everyone talks about it, you'd think it's being covered by the news."

"Well, wake up and smell the roses, Kyoya. We don't get to have secrets. Anyway, it must be quite the argument if it's been going on for days now."

Kyoya takes a breath of the night air and considers again the oddity of speaking to Akito about it. Not that he would be the first to ask for details, but Kyoya had not even spoken to Tamaki, Haruhi, or Fuyumi about it.

Maybe it is the distance between himself and Akito, and the greater distance between Akito and Kosuke, that makes the idea of sharing his point of view more palpable. However, the latter also brings him to say, "I was under the impression you weren't particularly fond of Kosuke yet."

Akito huffs. "I'm still not happy about being dressed down by a virtual stranger, no, but that stranger is part of my family whether I like it or not. Besides, if it's really spreading as fast as you say, then someone might start asking me questions."

Not that Kyoya would call him a liar, but the first answer is incomplete, and the second ignores that Akito could very easily say to this hypothetical asker that he has no information to give—and even if he did, it would be far from decorum to share private details of anyone's relationship to an outsider.

He won't use the word liar, but Kyoya thinks that Akito is struggling to justify his curiosity. Or concern.

Even when Kyoya decides that he feels comfortable enough to speak, he isn't sure where to begin. His brother doesn't even know that his and Kosuke's romance was a farce to throw everyone's attention off them, so it's not as though he can start at the beginning.

He first says this: "We met her ex-boyfriend when we were with the others on Saturday."

Akito's groan throws him off. He wasn't anticipating such a quick, let alone unhappy, reaction.

"Oh, let me guess," Akito says. "They haven't seen each other in forever, and now he looks totally different, super muscular and confident, and they're happy to see each other, and at first she doesn't introduce the two of you as a couple, and you don't know if it's because you just had a fight and she's mad at you or if she was just caught off-guard, and then they spend a long time reminiscing and catching up, because at some point he joined in, and now all three of you are going to arcades and candy stores and whatever. Is that what happened?"

Kyoya takes a second.

"That is…exactly what happened."

"Figures. So, what amazing humanitarian job does he have now? EMT? Lifeguard?"

"Firefighter."

"Ugh. So, what, that just made it worse?"

"No, it was something that he said to me in private."

Akito's eyebrows go up, probably assuming the worst (as if Kyoya is so insecure that he would humor an alpha-versus-alpha snarling match), but he just waits for him to elaborate.

"He—Kohta—was telling me about what happened after Kosuke's parents had passed. She wouldn't eat or sleep if someone didn't tell her to. She did nothing to take care of herself. Every minute of every day, she was looking for problems to fix, and her friends would have to all but force her to let them help. Then she had no one—her best friend moved away not long after Kohta left."

Akito frowns and opens his mouth, and Kyoya cannot believe that his brother is about to act like Tamaki Suoh. Despite his own bitterness on the matter, he raises a hand. "Yes, I know. 'How could they just leave?' That's beside the point."

Akito relents, still frowning, and Kyoya continues, "She was alone, just her and her siblings. There was no one to help her, not even anyone she could talk to. Kohta thanked me. He could tell that she was happier, and now she had people she could rely on. So, he thanked me."

It takes a minute for Akito to digest all this, and probably longer for Kyoya to digest that he'd shared it.

His brother finally speaks at a careful speed. "I'm not seeing what the problem is…?"

"The problem is," Kyoya says, "he thought that Kosuke spent all that time suffering alone until me and everyone else put a stop to it, but it's not true. She still suffers alone; she makes herself. I've told her time and time again that she can talk to me about anything, whenever, but she refuses to."

He takes a deep breath. "The reason we were arguing was that she'd gotten hurt, and she ignored it until she had to be taken to a doctor. I'd asked her several times up to that if she was okay, and she insisted that she was. If people hadn't been around to help, she may have kept going until she had to be taken to the hospital—and that's just one of many examples I could give."

Kyoya pushes up his glasses for no real reason; just a tic. "I don't know why she keeps isolating herself. I don't know what I can say or do to convince her to let someone help her—especially knowing that she's been doing this for years now."

The silence after stretches for so long that Kyoya assumes Akito is regretting broaching the subject—and that any second now, he'll say something or another about getting back to the party, and leave Kyoya be.

Akito drums his fingers on the railing forward and back again a few times. "Didn't you just get out of the hospital because—?"

"Yes, thank you, that was a point that she raised."

"Well, it's a good point."

The next silence stretches for even longer, enough time for Kyoya to check his watch and decide it's time for him to dive back into hell.

Just as he pushes off from the railing, Akito sighs. "You should be talking to someone else about this. I have nothing to tell you."

"You did ask."

"I did."

Kyoya leaves him on the balcony, perhaps disappointed, but surely not surprised. He could not very well expect deep insight from Akito, not when the last time they'd had a meaningful conversation was probably when they were children, trying to figure out how to settle a tie in a game.

Any worry he'd had of his absence being noticed is replaced by a new worry when he looks around the room and finds neither his father nor his eldest brother in sight. There is nowhere else for them to be but the hallway, so Kyoya can only conclude that Yuuichi's outburst at Mr. Ito is being discussed. Thirty-three years old, and his eldest brother is still not safe from scolding.

Kyoya is sour with guilt and wishes even more that he had been the one to snap first. He had blocked out every foul word that had left Mr. Ito's spittle-glossed mouth in the past, but had he ever said such crude things about Itsumi? About Nanako? Had Kyoya been so engrossed in his own misery that he had said nothing, let alone noticed?

A gurgling voice is calling for Akito now, which must mean he has reentered as well—this is what Kyoya assumes until a moist palm grabs him by his sleeve and yanks him sideways.

"Akito," Mr. Ito crows. It sounds like Akee-tuh. "Wher've you been? I've been waitin' for you forever."

"I'm Kyoya, Mr. Ito."

"What?" Mr. Ito puts his moist palm against Kyoya's chest and gives him a little push, squinting at his face with watery red eyes. "Oh. Right, glasses…Where's your brother, boy?"

The semicircle of listeners cringes in their respective ways. Kyoya is convinced that Mr. Ito will be calling him "boy" until Kyoya's hair has gone gray (assuming Ito's liver has not shriveled to dust by then).

"I'm not sure, sir. My apologies."

"Hmph. Well, go find 'im—Actually." Kyoya thinks he says "actually," anyway. "Go'n get me another Duhfrust."

"I beg your pardon, sir?"

Mr. Ito leans close enough for Kyoya's eyes to almost water at the fumes that pour out of his mouth and growls out, "Goooo n' get meeee another Deeeeeewwww Fraaaaaahst. Be nice to the birthday boy, why don't you?"

Kyoya still has no inkling as to what he's asking for, but he'll be damned if he's going through that again. He pardons himself and makes his way to the bar. He wonders: can he ask them to make it as slow as possible?

The bartender stands alert as he approaches. "I need a…Do-Frast, I believe?"

"A Dewfrost, sir?" She points to a crystalline bottle on the shelf.

The liquid inside is as clear as day—and Kyoya comes up with a brilliant idea to get just a little vengeance for his brother and his fiancée both. The bartender readies a glass, but he holds up a hand to stop her.

"Pardon me, but could I see that bottle, please?"

Though perplexed, she hands it to him. The label goes into lavish detail on the entire process of Dewfrost, from cereal to bottle. Kyoya skims over it and passes it back, shaking his head.

"Ah, eighty-five percent. Perhaps I should slow down, then. Water, instead." Kyoya stops her again when she reaches for a different glass. "No, that one is fine, thank you."

Kyoya returns to Mr. Ito amid his regaling of his uncomfortable audience in some childish story or other. "Your Dewfrost, Mr. Ito."

Mr. Ito takes it with just a grunt of acknowledgment, but as he turns back, Kyoya asks, "Sir, I must say, I've never heard of this drink before."

"You wouldn't. Stuff like this?" Mr. Ito holds the glass up. Some drops run down his fingers. "It would knock a beanpole like you flat on y'feet."

Look who's talking. You would weigh five pounds soaking wet. "I don't doubt it, sir. I've tried Suranic enough times to know that vodka doesn't suit me."

Kyoya might not be as well-versed in alcohol as Mr. Ito, but he does know that Suranic is as common as you can go for vodka. It has maybe a third of the AC as Dewfrost. It can be found just about anywhere that alcohol is sold—which means that for a connoisseur like Hiroyuki Ito, comparing Suranic to Dewfrost would be like comparing chicken nuggets to coq au vin.

"Suranic? Suranic?" Mr. Ito looks Kyoya up and down as if he's just crawled out of a sewer pipe. "Don't y' dare compare that—that mouthwash with Duhfrast! Are you mad, boy? Are y' stupid? You—You listen. All of you, listen. You know how they make this?"

Mr. Ito's description of the distilling process of Dewfrost is everything that was on the label and then some. If Kosuke could look past the drunkenness and the lewdness and the overall repugnant nature of the man, she might have been impressed, had she had the misfortune of being here. Everyone listens like lectured children while Mr. Ito goes on and on about how Dewfrost is "a drink from the gods," so pure and good "you can use it as holy water."

"I don't ever, ever want you say'n this is anything like Shur-anic, boy. D'you hear me?"

"Yes, Mr. Ito, sir. I'm very sorry."

"Y' damn well should be."

Mr. Ito throws back all of the "Dewfrost" in one go, and tips the empty glass at Kyoya after. "From the gods."

Kyoya is satisfied.

He steers clear of Mr. Ito for the rest of the evening, though it's impossible to escape from his yelling and laughing anywhere in the room. Should he and Kosuke get on speaking terms again, he thinks maybe she'd like to hear of his attempt to avenge her.

Kyoya does not catch when Yuuichi and Yoshio reenter the party, but he sees both through the crowd, on other sides of the room. If indeed Yoshio had shamed his eldest to the best of his ability, then Yuuichi does not show it. He looks utterly unaffected as he seamlessly merges back into the crowd.

This may explain the glint of anger in Yoshio's eyes when Kyoya catches them through the throng. With expert grace, Yoshio makes his way to Kyoya, who knows that he is next. Perhaps Yoshio has decided that whatever his sacred eldest son had done, he would have only done it through the meddling and corruption of his worthless youngest son.

Kyoya waits for him, and though he knows that the best course of action would be to take whatever is spat at him and only respond with yes, sir, he feels he lacks the patience to not say some words of defense of Yuuichi and Kosuke both.

Yoshio finally comes to him and opens his mouth to beckon him away.

There is the unmistakable belching and spattering of someone emptying their stomach onto the floor.

There's a shuffle of footprints, sounds of disgust. And more belching and splattering. No one has to look to know who the source is.

This is enough to make Yoshio instead say, "We're leaving."

Usually, at the end of the party, everyone takes their turn bidding the "birthday boy" goodbye and giving him well wishes. This year, the majority don't have the stomach for it, and regardless, Mr. Ito won't remember who did and didn't give him a last "happy birthday." A few good men have taken to hoisting him up on an armchair and finding out some way or another to get him to a bed. None of those good men include the Ootoris.

The brothers and their father are quiet until they reach the front doors of the building—even if tension remains, the exhaustion of the night is overruling it.

Akito pulls his keys from his suit pocket. He has long preferred to drive himself, something that Yoshio has respected, and Jin has found unnecessary. They will soon think the same of Kyoya, no doubt. "I won't be at the hotel until later."

Yoshio doesn't even look at him. "You have another engagement?"

"Apparently, there's a store nearby that sells something that Fuyumi wants. Jewelry, or shoes, or something like that. I told her I'd get them so the rest of you wouldn't have your phones ringing non-stop."

Yoshio's silence is an agreement. Their chauffeur pulls up to the bend.

Akito walks the other way, and waves at Kyoya as he passes. "Kyoya, you're coming with me."

One foot in the limousine, Yoshio turns back, frowning. Kyoya asks, "Why is that?"

"Because knowing Fuyumi, she's asking me to fetch something that will take two people to load in the car. Just come on."

Into the limousine Yoshio goes, followed by Yuuichi. It's a fair walk, and a quiet one, to Akito's car. Kyoya asks no questions. However, he does find it a bit odd that Fuyumi would ask Akito first. Usually, she would message her brothers from youngest to oldest.

When they're on the bright streets of the city, Kyoya asks, "What's the name of the store?"

Akito does not answer. He looks over his shoulder, then moves into the next lane. Now, in the privacy of the car, Kyoya sees that he looks oddly disgruntled. His jaw is clamped tight.

"Akito?"

A sharp, frustrated sigh. "There is no store. I don't even know where we're going."

"An explanation, please?"

"Look. I don't know why this has to be a secret—so don't tell anyone else about this—but we're on our way to see Kosuke. Don't ask me why. All I know is that I have to take you if I want to be a 'decent brother'."

This inspires countless questions, of course, but Kyoya obeys and gives none of them. Looking out of the window at the lights flitting by does nothing to help the spinning in his head. He can only hope—pray—that he's not being led to a forced intervention by Fuyumi or Tamaki or whoever else has had enough of his and Kosuke's arguing. Kyoya may actually bash his head against a brick wall if that's the case.

Akito must catch his wariness. "If it's something insane, I'll drive you back to the hotel."

"I would appreciate it."

"And—Listen." Akito's grip on the steering wheel is tight—he has always despised any sort of distraction while driving, Nanako had said. "I don't know anything about how you and Kosuke…do things, but from the sound of it, you should try something else. I'm not saying you shouldn't be frustrated, but—First of all, you went to the hospital for—"

"Yes, Akito, thank you."

"Second of all, if asking her to talk to you isn't working, then maybe you ask her what the problem is, instead. And…I don't know, tell her that things have to change for you guys. As a couple. God, Nanako should be the one doing this…"

His discomfort radiates off him, so Kyoya gives him mercy and ends the conversation. "I'll keep that in mind."

Nothing more is said or asked for the rest of the drive, even as Kyoya's questions multiply by the minute. When the car stops in front of an ordinary bridge, sparsely lit by street lamps and with no other soul in sight, Kyoya thinks he will have to break his promise. To ask, for example, if Kosuke has been taken hostage, and this is the location to pay the ransom.

Akito only waves him to go. Strangely, despite barely looking at Kyoya and resting the other hand on the wheel, it is encouraging. Kyoya steps out of the car and leans back to say, "Thank you."

Akito stops him before he shuts the door. He gives Kyoya another breath mint. Then coughs, and tells him to go, already.

Approaching the dark bridge, and hearing only his footfalls and the muffled rush of water below, is unnerving. Akito turns off the headlights, but Kyoya is certain that he is being watched. That, and the promise of seeing Kosuke, and perhaps the satisfaction of seeing Mr. Ito passed out in a putrid, sweaty heap on an armchair, eases his worries.

Chapter Summary:

Kosuke has not been responding to her friends' messages and calls, much to the worry of her friends. Kyoya is doubly worried after the events on Saturday and the conversation he'd had with Kohta. He, his brothers, and his father attend a birthday dinner the next day for a "family friend" that all of them loathe. During a game of billiards, the family friend, Mr. Ito, makes a lewd comment about Kosuke, which makes Yuuichi snap—much to Kyoya's shock. After, Kyoya goes to the balcony to escape for a while, and is joined by Akito. It's awkward, but Kyoya opens up to Akito about what Kohta had told him: that he was thankful to Kyoya for helping Kosuke, as he witnessed how she isolated herself after her parents passed. This made Kyoya only more frustrated, knowing that Kosuke has been struggling with asking for help for years now, and he has no idea of how to help her. The conversation ends there, and the party does as well soon after. While Yoshio and Yuuichi head for their hotel, Akito gets Kyoya to join him in picking up something for Fuyumi, which turns out to be a lie. While Akito has no idea where he's taking Kyoya and why, as well as why it is a secret, he finally gives Kyoya some advice for his relationship with Kosuke and how to proceed.