Chapter 8

Fuck me or fuck off.

It was a joke. A joke, he repeated. Fuck. A stupid joke that made him look like an actual idiot. The man slumped in his chair as he tried to drown out the voices in the background. He shouldn't have come to this stupid brunch. He was already tired from the Hibayashi dinner the night before. He got home past midnight after stopping by the office to pick up some documents.

"Friends! I need suggestions! I need ideas, themes, activities! What shall we do for our Annual Fundraiser?" Tamaki wailed. "I should not have left this to the last minute – but with final exams and all…"
"It's not like you're the one writing the exams," Haruhi rolled her eyes. "What were some past events like?"

"We did Alice in Wonderland last year," the Suoh thought long and hard about previous years. "Another year we did Renaissance, and some time before that there was a Mythological theme…"
"Aye, Tono, isn't this your job? Why are you outsourcing this to us?" the Twins groaned. They came for the promise of food and obviously something more exciting than brainstorming for an alumni event.

"Think of the kids!" the headmaster wailed. "Don't you want to give back? It's for charity!"
"Isn't event planning mostly Kyouya's job?" Honey chimed in. The Ootori was generally always the person to turn to when they had Host Club events. The group turned over to the man who had slouched in his chair, irritated by the fact that he was here in the first place. He stared back at them silently with a scowl on his face. It was a very clear no.

"Why are you such a grouch?" Twin 1 pried. "Your stocks doing poorly today?" Twin 2 cackled.
"It's the weekend," the Ootori pointed out. The stock exchange was closed. He lifted himself up from his seat and decided he had enough of the kerfuffle of his friends.

"Oi," Tamaki called after him. "We're not done here!"
"I'm done here," Kyouya growled as he pushed his seat back from the dining table.
"We have to figure out something that would appeal to the alumni!" the Suoh begged. "We have less than a week for all of this."

The Twins tilted their head to each other. "Ah," they thought out loud, nodding to each other as if they had read each other's mind. "It must be Kiyoko. Isn't it? She's got your panties twisted and now you're all sulky because of it!"

"She's not the problem," Kyouya lied without missing a beat. "But she might serve as inspiration for a good theme," the Ootori shrugged nonchalantly. "Casino Royale." Let's draw her out. At the very least, the event would pique her curiosity. And of course, she would be invited because she was an alumnus.

Tamaki was enamoured immediately. "Yes!"

And thus, the banquet hall of the academy was transformed in the next weekend. The windows were lined with velvet curtains. Neon lights installed. Game tables and roulettes were placed strategically. It was truly like a small casino. People filtered into the event late in the evening with their cocktail gowns and tuxedos.

He watched from the very top with his drink in hand. The flashy lights were down below. The top balcony was overshadowed by the bottom floor where all the flashy lights and gambling (for charity, of course) had occurred. He stood where he felt most comfortable and the bird's eye view of the entire venue gave him the full advantage. The event started well over two hours ago – where was she?

"Who are you looking for?" Haruhi finally spotted her friend who had been lurking above them all. She was unrecognizable to the rest of the alumni with her hair grown out and her emerald green gown that hugged onto her figure. She took a break from all the conversation and the noises from below.

"No one," the Ootori responded, his eyes still glued to the entrance of the banquet hall.
"Kiyoko, was it?" the lawyer tested the waters. "She was in our class, you know. I don't recall much of her except that she was bullied."
"Hm," Kyouya pretended not to pay attention to his friend.

"I don't think she would show up to a place that treated her so poorly," Haruhi explained. "Maybe you should call it a night," she suggested.
He shook his head slightly. "She'll show," he was confident. He knew she would. Even if it was later in the night.
"Why?"

"There are people I'm sure she'll want to meet," the Ootori guessed. Ouran alumni were one of the richest people in the country. She ran one of the most exclusive curated galleries in the Eastern Pacific. It was a great opportunity to do business with or without those childhood bullies.
"Like yourself?" Haruhi laughed. "I don't think you'd have to spend this amount of effort trying to track down a woman if they really wanted to talk to you."

Kyouya gave his friend a cold glare to stop her from chortling. Haruhi cleared her throat and tried her best to transition out of it by drinking from her glass smoothly.

"She must be important then," the lawyer guessed. "To have you hanging by a thread like this."
"I'm not hanging by a thread," Kyouya snapped. "I'm gathering data."
"You know, you can just ask her what you want to know right?" Haruhi raised an eyebrow.
"Believe me, I've tried," the Ootori muttered with a frustrated sigh.

The Twins came up the staircase with a wide-eyed grin. One of the redheads had a pure white business card in between their fingers. "Guess what?" Twin 1 asked the pair of hosts who had been up on the balcony.

"She's here," Twin 2 flashed the white cardstock like it was a trophy in front of the Ootori. He narrowed his eyes until he saw the KH printed on the piece of paper.

"I didn't see her," Kyouya looked back down to the banquet floor and then back up at the Twins who had the treasured card in their possession. He hadn't seen anyone that looked remotely like her go through the entrance. "Where did you find that?" he pointed to the card.

"Hah," Hikaru cackled at the Ootori. "Damn, she's really got you under her thumb, hm?" Kaoru circled around the Ootori, taunting him with the ivory cardstock. "This was from an old exhibition and is no longer useful," they explained. "We just wanted to see your reaction."

The Ootori huffed and shook his head. Even Haruhi had a small smirk on her lips. It was quite an occasion to see the Shadow King fooled by such a simple trick.

"She's not here," Hikaru shrugged. Or at least, they didn't spot her down there. But the Twins were having more fun socializing and spending a couple thousand at the tables. "We would've told you sooner if she was," Kaoru added. "But we thought it'd be fun to pull a fun little prank."

The Shadow King turned on his heel and left his friends in silence. He calmly went down the stairs, intermingling with the crowds and listening into the conversations. None of them were of any particular interest. It was nearing midnight at this point. Perhaps Haruhi was actually right, he should have called it a night. He had no more patience for this.

He weaved through the crowds and out the double doors into the familiar halls. He turned to go into the parking lot before a voice caught his attention around the corner.

"You seem young."

He followed the voices down the hall, stopping right before the corner.

"Ah yes, I'm a 2nd year, actually."

There was a beat of silence. Perhaps a nod. A questionable glance, he guessed. Kyouya's steps quieted as he waited to listen into the conversation.

"You should be studying."

It was a familiar timbre. The voice carried depth. Power. Control. Dominance. Kyouya peered over to the corner to find a female student in the uniform of a server. The adult woman was in an off-shoulder gown. Black as the night sky. Hair pinned up elegantly, adorned with a leaves and marquise-shaped diamonds as extra ornaments. A cuffed golden bangle around her wrist with the same leaf motif.

"Extra money helps," the student sighed. "The scholarship only covers so much these days."

The woman nodded after observing the girl for a few more seconds. Her decision had been made on the spot. She began removing the hidden bobby pins in her hair, letting each one fall onto the marble floor. Each metal pin echoed down the hall until she pulled out the metal comb and two pins with golden leaves and diamonds that barely held her bun in place.

"What are you doing?"

She didn't answer until her long hair had fallen down to her shoulders into a slight wave. She gestured for the girl to hold her hands out. The woman gently laid down the head pieces in the child's hands.

"This is 24 karat gold. Do you know what that means?" her voice was softer now, as if whispering a secret.

The girl shook her head.

"The highest grade of gold. It is the purest form. The diamonds are 5 carats each. How many diamonds do you see on there?"

"T-ten," she meekly counted. Her hands were shaking at the sudden weight and wealth that had been placed in her possession. The woman gently cupped the hands of the girl who was shocked by the gesture, calming her with the gentle touch.

"Do you know what the market value is for those commodities?" Her voice was still.

"No…" The student shook her head. "A lot, I would imagine."

"Correct," the woman nodded. "It's enough to pay for tuition and more if you're careful with it. Use it for whatever you need."

"What do I do with this?" the child was stupefied. The pieces were stunning but what would a girl like her do with such a thing?

"Don't drop it," the woman chuckled to herself. "But I'll give you a number. You call them and you tell them that Kiyoko sent you. They'll name a price."

"K-kiyoko," they repeated with a nod. The woman fished out a black card, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Yes," she confirmed. She borrowed a pen from the girl's pocket wordlessly and quickly wrote on the card with the phone number she promised. "Do you remember what these are?"

"24 karat gold. 5 carat diamonds," the girl stuttered. "I… I can't. I can't take this."

"This is a fundraiser, isn't it? I'll contribute my own way to charity. Think of it as a future investment. I hope you do good with your life," Kiyoko patted the child on the shoulder with a smile and began walking down the halls without another word.

Kyouya turned the corner to reveal himself to the shaken student who stared at him wide-eyed. Her hands clutched the gold in her palms. He walked towards her and nodded with approval.

"She's right. You should be studying," he told the girl with a quiet murmur as he ran down the hall, following the echoes of her steps.

Was this a joke? Kiyoko thought to herself. Casino Royale as a theme, she scoffed to herself. Well, whatever. She had gone to the previous ones purely out of business interest. She didn't have to speak much – her reputation was purely by word-of-mouth. She was either that girl with the psycho family but more recently super exclusive art curator. Art was a great way to attain clout – enough that girl with the psycho family became less of an issue and more of a fun memory for others to approach her. The fun memory was more of a one-sided thing.

She was quick to slip into the crowds tonight, arriving late as she was tied up with work well into the evening. And of course, it took a while to get dressed up like this. Kiyoko easily bypassed her way to previous clients who had reached out to her in the last few months. Kiyoko was quick with the pleasantries, passing by the invites with the flick of a wrist on black cardstock. The different designs were an indication of when and where she had distributed them. It was meant to be a quick trip to say her hellos. Facilitate the business connections she already had out of goodwill. Kiyoko had taken a break by the poker table, casually eyeing the cards on the table and doing a mental calculation of the odds. She had no intent of actually playing tonight. Besides, she'd probably crush these idiots by the end of the night. That was no fun for anyone – except herself, maybe.

"Whore," Someone coughed right behind her, breaking her concentration immediately.

Kiyoko didn't turn around and ignored the comment, assuming it wasn't made for her. Kiyoko's eyes scanned the table and realized she was the only female. Ah, perhaps the comment really was for her. It wasn't the worst thing to be called but it certainly wasn't true.

Kiyoko slowly cocked her head around, curiosity piqued. She only had that kind of hostility from her own family. She glanced at the woman who had smirked at her. Her hair was dyed a light brown, curled to perfection as her eyes were large like a doe. Her red dress hugged her figure, stopping mid-thigh as her Valentino shoes finished off the outfit. Kiyoko couldn't quite pinpoint who this was – a wife of someone she was supposed to know?

"Excuse me?" Kiyoko kept her voice low as she slipped away from the table. Her heels clacked against the marble floors while she approached the woman.
"You still got those crazy eyes hm?" the stranger scoffed.
"I'm afraid I don't know who you are," Kiyoko walked closer to the woman, examining her face. Maybe the stranger had work done. It was difficult to pinpoint who this was.

"Of course not – you're too busy seducing people's husbands so they could buy your stupid art," she rolled her eyes. Kiyoko took note of the diamond ring on the stranger's finger to confirm that she was married.

Kiyoko narrowed her eyes in confusion, her mind reeling through all the possibilities of the men she approached tonight. Most of them were actually with their wives and had zero problems with her presence. In fact, all of them welcomed her into their circle when she offered the invite. Not all her clients were male, of course. It would have been a disservice to not extend the offer to as many well-paying clients as possible.

Kiyoko shook her head at the woman. She was confused but not yet entirely offended. More amused by the sudden accusation, if anything. Like an interesting puzzle she was suddenly asked to solve. The mental exercise this late at night was more difficult than the odds she could calculate at the poker table. "Remind me – who is your husband?"

The woman pursed her lips. "Too many men to keep count, hm? So many reasons for people not to marry you. The crazy genes you carry just top it off."
Kiyoko's lips turned into an amused smile. It was probably enough to infuriate the woman even further. Well, that wasn't really her problem if she was going to be bitter about something Kiyoko had no control over. "I still don't know who you are."

"Most homewreckers don't know the wives involved," the stranger spat. "And why would they?"

Kiyoko crossed her arms at the woman who looked at her with disdain. She stared back blankly, wondering if the woman would crack. It only took her a few seconds to lose patience.
"Fuck you," she snarled before walking away.

Kiyoko watched the woman drown herself in the crowds. How odd, she thought to herself. She brushed off the hostile encounter and looked at her phone. Her guest list had been ticked off for the night. She had 50 people on the list. She found 36. The other 14 would show themselves to her at some point. Kiyoko quietly slipped into the shadows and out into the familiar halls of the academy. When she turned the corner, she found a teenager neatly stacking the glassware away on a tray.

Her ponytail waved with a little ribboned bow. She seemed too young to be at an event like this – especially with all the booze and craziness that ensued in there. Gambling was fun but only if you had money. The rest of the world looked at gambling as an irresponsible way of spending money. A fair assumption, really.

"Oh," the student noticed the presence of the adult. "Can I help you with anything, ma'am? Directions anywhere? More wine, perhaps?"

Kiyoko inwardly sighed. Ma'am. Was she that old that she was no longer considered miss? Goodness, sometimes she forgot how old she really was.

"No," Kiyoko answered. "You seem young," the elder observed. Too young. Definitely not old enough to drink and yet she was here handling empty glasses of it.

The girl nodded sheepishly nodded, not realizing that people would even notice her. People had ignored her the entire night unless they needed something. "Ah yes, I'm a 2nd year actually."

Kiyoko eyed the girl. The dark circles under the girl's eyes were not fully concealed by makeup. She could see the fatigue on her face. "You should be studying," the adult chided. Studying and not working. Focusing on your future and not making ends meet. Of course, most Ouran students didn't have to think about such things.

"Extra money helps," the girl sighed. "The scholarship only covers so much these days."

Kiyoko thought about what else was needed nowadays. Maybe a new laptop? Those were expensive. Textbooks – not the old editions, the newest ones. Software? What else did teenagers need nowadays? A better phone, maybe? The girl would have to work through university too, a full scholarship only covered tuition and not all the accessories required in schooling.

Kiyoko sighed to herself. Her hair had been held up all day – it was time to give her scalp a break for the night. She fished out the metal U pins with her long fingers and tossed them onto the marble floor without a second thought. Those were worthless anyway. She had plenty to spare at her vanity table.

"What are you doing?" the girl watched the woman pick apart her hair in front of her, each piece of metal taken down by gravity and echoing through the hall. The hollow ping was the only thing could be heard. Kiyoko didn't seem to care for how her hair slowly began falling down against her shoulders.

She was focused on trying to dig out the last few pins of her hair before gesturing for the student to hold her hands out. At least the child was obedient and followed her instructions without a word. Kiyoko gently put the worthwhile golden comb and two hair pins in the girl's palm. They were beautiful – anyone would have been enchanted by them. She found them in Italy, handmade by an expert jeweller. Each piece was unique and one of a kind.

"This is 24 karat gold. Do you know what that means?" Kiyoko skipped to the important bit of the jewelled ornaments, not bothering to tell the child about the story of it. After all, it was the value of the object that was most important right now.

The child shook her head. Of course not. Kiyoko nodded and explained quietly.

"The highest grade of gold. It is the purest form. The diamonds are 5 carats each. How many diamonds do you see on there?" 5 carats. Each 1 gram. They glistened under the light, no matter how dim or artificial. They were even more beautiful under the sunlight.

The child examined the pins and quickly counted what she could see. "T-ten," she stuttered.

"Do you know what the market value is for those commodities?" The adult smiled. She didn't think the girl would – market value of precious metals and minerals weren't exactly the top of anyone's curriculum. But it was certainly enough to get her by, at least for a few years, Kiyoko thought.

"No…" The student shook her head, as the woman had expected. "A lot, I would imagine," she added meekly.
"Correct," Kiyoko confirmed. "It's enough to pay for tuition and more if you're careful with it. Use it for whatever you need."

"What do I do with this?" the student gasped. How could she take such a thing? It seemed like the sort of things she would see from a TV show. A fairy godmother of sorts.
"Don't drop it," Kiyoko teased. "But I'll give you a number. You call them and you tell them that Kiyoko sent you. They'll name a price." Kiyoko opened up the clutch that had been under her arm and found a spare card. Unfortunately, it was black – she hoped the indentations of the pen would be enough for the girl to see through.

"K-kiyoko," she repeated. She'll have to commit that name to memory forever.

"Yes," the adult confirmed with a nod. She borrowed a pen from the girl's pocket and quickly wrote on the card with the phone number as promised. "Do you remember what these are?" Kiyoko asked again.

"24 karat gold. 5 carat diamonds," the girl stuttered. She couldn't speak coherently. "Wait, no. I… I can't. I can't take this," she sobered up. This was far too much. Was this even happening?

"This is a fundraiser, isn't it? I'll contribute my own way to charity. Think of it as a future investment. I hope you do good with your life," Kiyoko patted her on the shoulder with a smile and began walking down the halls without another word. She felt the presence of someone following her and was quick to quicken her pace, taking a quick detour into a wing that she wasn't part of her usual visit.

Every year, the annual fundraiser for alumni was held. Kiyoko always went back to visit the nook in the library she spent most of her time in. During the lunches and spare periods – her high school days were spent burrowing her nose in books instead of socializing with the rest of the crowd. Something about that place was weirdly comforting. Like she had found a home outside of the house that she lived in her whole life. It gave her a sense of peace, even if each visit was only a few minutes long. Sometimes she would walk up and down the aisles of books. The book collection grew sparsely over the years with everything becoming digitized. It seemed like a such a shame when she loved feeling the pages between her fingers with every word she read.

Kiyoko slid open the door of the 3rd year classroom she vaguely remembered spending her last year in. Everything looked the same. Even the chalkboard had the eraser in the same corner. The wooden podium for the teacher was immaculately polished. Moonlight filtered through the windows. Kiyoko walked down to her desk. Maybe it wasn't really her desk anymore – how often did these get replaced, anyway?

Her brain mentally went through the list of people in her class. None of which seemed to be the person she met tonight. But then again, she hardly spent much time socializing during those years. It was difficult enough remembering the names of people in her class, at least the richest ones. She exited the classroom and began making her way to her 2nd year classroom in a different wing. Same thing. No recollection of anyone that she remembered.

The 1st year classroom was structured in the same way as the other classrooms, once again in a different wing. Her fingers traced along the smooth polished wood of what was her desk. Smack dab in the middle of the classroom. Her phalanges remembered the carving in her desk in the first few weeks of transferring over from Lobelia.

It wasn't like Kiyoko had planned on making friends from the very beginning. The word psycho being carved into her desk next to some other awful phrases was definitely not the welcome she had expected.

The memories were a blur now. Whispers of teenage girls saying terrible things. Being ostracized from the very beginning of her high school career. Maybe some people didn't grow out of it, especially wild ones. What was her name? Asame? Asane? Asune? Something like that. Kiyoko had other things to worry about while in Ouran. Her grades. Her education. Her brother, too. People talked shit all the time – her family was used to it and by extension, Kiyoko had grown accustomed to it too.

"Was this where we met?" Kiyoko spoke into the empty classroom, trying to draw out the stranger who had followed her. She had heard their steps that followed her own. Her ears were sharpest with these empty halls. She assumed they had taken off their heels to quietly follow her. "When you carved psycho into my desk?" she egged on.

"What?" the shadow responded in an amused voice. It was a man's voice. It wasn't the woman Kiyoko had thought. The raven-haired man came out of the shadows with his glasses that glinted with the moonlight.

"Oh," Kiyoko frowned when she realized it wasn't who she had wanted to see. Of course, he was dressed immaculately. "It's you."

"Someone carved psycho into your desk?" he chuckled. Teenage girls really were crazy. He thought he had dealt with the majority of the crazies being in the Host Club. But apparently, the woman had dealt with another breed. Perhaps Haruhi was right – this wasn't exactly a kind place for Kiyoko to return to.

"That's what I said, didn't I?" Kiyoko snapped. She didn't want to have to delve into the topic any further. It was exactly what was said. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm an alumnus," Kyouya answered, avoiding the real question with his back coolly leaning against the door, hands in his pockets. Kiyoko stood at her old desk with her arms crossed, unamused by his response. These desks seemed so small now that they were grown adults.

"Whatever," Kiyoko turned on her heel to exit out of the back door to avoid the Ootori at the entrance. Maybe it was time to go home. The trip down memory lane wasn't as fun as she thought it would have been.

"Why did you do that?" the Ootori perched up his glasses in curiosity, stopping her from leaving.
"Do what?" Kiyoko shot back with her walls fortified. She was like a completely different woman from the person who had gently helped the girl earlier with a toss of a hair ornament. So she had a soft spot, didn't she? He needed to know what else made her weak.

"Help that student," Kyouya clarified, closing in on the distance between them. The man moved from the entrance and stood in the middle of the classroom. Kiyoko shifted her body from the back door and crossed her arms again.
She tilted her head in confusion. "You saw that?" Perhaps he had seen more than she had initially thought.

"I see everything," the Ootori smirked.
"Hah," Kiyoko chuckled. "Then you'd know why I helped her – if you're some omniscient being, you wouldn't have to ask."

Kyouya frowned. She had a good point. "Didn't you say I was human?"
"So you don't see everything," Kiyoko reminded.
"Then what did you see in her?" Kyouya wondered.
"For fuck's sake," the woman sighed. She was tired of all of this. "Why do you care where I put my money?" It was none of his fucking business.

"Do you get a kick out of feeling like a saint?" He raised an eyebrow at her, almost taunting her for being so nice. "Helping the poor? Having the moral high ground above all of us?"

Kiyoko rolled her eyes. He was having a knack out of annoying her. Perhaps that was fair, given all the times she had done that to him. Kiyoko stayed calm, focusing on her exit strategy. She wondered what would make him leave her alone. "Sure, whatever. I love helping the marginalized. Put that on my bio to reel in my future spouse," she sarcastically responded.

"I don't understand," the Ootori shook his head. "Why come back to a place that treated you so poorly?" He gestured to the desks that she spoke about. Haruhi had a good point. This place only served bad memories for her.

Kiyoko scoffed. "Business." An obvious and easy answer. Every opportunity to make money was a good one. Wasn't that what the Ootori would have done as well?
"You didn't play," Kyouya pointed out.

The woman shook her head wondering how long he had been watching from the balcony to have his eyes at the tables in trying to find her. She didn't gamble tonight, no. She had no intention to try to draw any more attention to her than needed.

"I retired," she responded with a clipped tone, not sure how many times she had to emphasize that to people.
"But you played against the Twins," the Ootori reminded. "You could still play, if you wanted to."

Kiyoko rolled her eyes and turned to the door. This was a conversation she was too tired to have. The Ootori was trying to dig into a place that wouldn't lead him anywhere and she wasn't going to entertain him on her previous occupation.

"I didn't want to," the woman shrugged and walked out of the classroom. Her heels echoed and footsteps behind her followed quickly as she turned the corner.
"Why not?" Kyouya pressed on, keeping up with her pace. Goodness, the man wouldn't leave her alone. At this rate, she'd have to take off her shoes and make a run for it to her car. Kiyoko considered it heavily for a couple seconds.

"Why does it matter?" Kiyoko answered with a question of her own.
"Why were the Twins the exception?" the Ootori narrowed his eyes.
"The Hitachiins? How do you know the Twins?" Medical groups and fashion businesses did not really mingle together.

Kyouya stopped in his tracks and looked at her incredulously. "We were in the Host Club together."

"The what?" Kiyoko narrowed her eyes in confusion, stopping to look past her bare shoulder at him. A Host club? A club of… hosts? She didn't really know much about what happened outside of the library and quite frankly, nothing happened in the library. She shared mutual glances at the librarians and the custodians. She was left alone in her own world here. A safe spot.

"Did you even go to Ouran?" The Ootori stared at her, taking note of her hair that fell down to her mid-back. She didn't wear it down very often. He enjoyed seeing it. Or rather, he enjoyed seeing her in ways no one else could. "You didn't know about it?"

Kiyoko blinked and continued on to the familiar route she had intended. "No," she responded earnestly. She opened the double doors to the hall of her favourite library. There were three libraries in this academy. "I spent time here." Kiyoko pointed towards the two floors of literature from the circulation desk. "For all 3 years and paid little attention to much else," Kiyoko continued. "So, I don't know what you're talking about."

Of course. She was immune to all the tricks. The smiles. The compliments. The mention of all his friends. She cared for none of it. She had no friends during her time here. What people said about her or of her – she didn't hear much of it beyond the 30 minutes of homeroom in the morning.

Kiyoko walked down the aisles that she missed dearly. Her almond shaped fingernails ran through the spines of the paperback books across the shelf. She started off in the English section first. She took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of these books – both old and new. It was like returning back to an old home.

"I played the Twins because it was a good business opportunity to sell a piece of art," Kiyoko admitted when she felt comfortable enough. Kyouya followed her down the alleys of books. Sure, he spent time in the libraries but not this one. He spent more time in the Science Wing. There was something about her. Something that made him want to see her face, not just the back of her head with her long hair flowing down her back with her bare shoulder.

"You didn't play because you knew you could win?" the Ootori offered in explanation.
"It's not gambling if you know you're going to win," Kiyoko answered with a small smile when she looked over her shoulder at him. He was a little taller than her, his distance still far enough like he was afraid of her. She didn't mind being three feet apart and continued with her tour of the library.

It surprised him. The smile. That smile in particular. The sort where your lips moved upward but your eyes twinkled too. Was this even the same woman who swindled the Twins out of 20 grand? Now that he thought about it – she too had made him pay 20 grand only a few months ago.

"Anyway," Kiyoko gazed up and down the shelves of books with admiration. "I saw work ethic."
"Hm?" Kyouya had been thinking about something else, his attention shifted back to the woman who had felt most at home between stacks of papers.
"In that student," the businesswoman responded to his earlier question. "More work ethic than I had seen in that banquet hall where people gambled for the thrill of winning under the guise of charity," Kiyoko explained. "And that's worth my money."

"She won't give anything back to you," the Ootori was perplexed.

"Do you even know the definition of charity?" the woman laughed quietly to herself. What an idiot. She didn't have to say it out loud for Kyouya to hear it in her laughter. The Ootori pursed his lips in silence, looking away to hide his embarrassment. He silently continued on with their small detour in the maze of books. Faint wafts of gardenia mixed in with the scent of old stacks of books. If he lost her in these books, he could find her easily just by the scent.

"I don't gamble anymore," she told him. Her voice deep but softer as it echoed between the books. "I don't need to."
"Why did you gamble in the first place?" Kyouya wondered. It was such an odd choice of a career.
"I needed money," Kiyoko shrugged. It was as simple as that.
"For what?"

Kiyoko turned around and stopped him in his tracks. He nearly bumped into her had he not stopped in time. He smoothly leaned against the shelf, pretending that he hadn't just nearly tripped into her. Kyouya waited for her to speak. Kiyoko silently looked up at him with curious eyes. Her eyes were softer than usual, her brows relaxed. He could see that she wasn't annoyed, at least not this time around – it must have been the library that made her feel as comfortable as she did tonight. Like it was her territory and nobody else's. She read him so easily like he was one of the books on the shelves that she had read during her teenage years.

"Can I call you Kyouya?" she first asked politely. Her voice commanded that he say yes, even if he wanted to say no. They had only met a handful of times with neither of them ever speaking without formalities.

"Yes," he granted permission, more breathless than he had thought. He was trying to keep his voice cool and collected. It was Kiyoko who seemed to have herself together more so than him, always.

"Kyouya, why me?" she wondered, her voice small but unwavering. He needed to stop trying to get to know her. Kiyoko knew he was trying and trying very much. "Can't you tell that I don't want to be that person?"
"What kind of person?"
"The kind that ruins you."

It was the Ootori's turn to chuckle. "On the contrary, you keep reminding me that you will ruin me, Kiyoko." Kiyoko, he repeated in his mind. He didn't realize how he would like that name on his tongue. Kiyoko. It was a pretty name, really. He never really said it out loud, at least to her.

"I never said I wanted to," the woman shook her head. "I was the kid who nobody liked," she looked around the library and remembered her teenage years. In hindsight, they really were quite lonely. "I was the sort of girl that people feared. You should be more afraid of me, Kyouya."

"I am," he admitted, albeit unwillingly. He was afraid of her. He knew it. He didn't want to think about it. But he knew that the fear existed. Her eyes flickered at the confession. "You already knew that."

"Yeah," she smiled down at the ground, her hair falling over her face. There it was again, the glimpse of her eyes twinkling. She looked down before he could catch another second of it. Maybe she was proud of it – she grew into that reputation of letting the world fear her, honing the power in her hands the way she was always made to. She slowly began enjoying the way she could make people crumble in fear. Who wouldn't? The Ootori most certainly reveled in that power.

"Yeah, I guess I did. I don't know how to make you listen," Kiyoko sighed, pulling the loose strands of hair behind her ear. He wondered if it was as soft as it looked. "Fear isn't working. Maybe sincerity will." She met his eyes.

"That's quite the jump," the Ootori commented coolly, not breaking the eye contact she started.
"You think sincerity is weak," Kiyoko shrugged. She could tell by his voice. "But I think it's brave."
"You're calling yourself brave?"

The woman shrugged. "I have to be."

They let the lull of silence settle between them. He looked at her, trying to read her the way that she did with him. She stared back, almost curious to see what he would say. What did he see in her? Did he see the bravery that she emulated? The sincerity she spoke so highly of?

All he saw was sadness. Maybe it was because he felt it too.