Chapter 28
He drove her back to the little resort town in the mountains by sundown, driving slower than needed. She held onto his hand during the entire way and eventually drifted off to sleep. In the small moments that he was able to have her to himself, Kyouya cherished the way she grew comfortable with him. Soon, he would let her go again. How was it physically painful when he only had the mere thought of letting her go?
It must not have been more than an hour of her dozing off before she jerked awake, hand clutching his own out of fear. Her breaths were short, her chest heaved for a few minutes before she realized where she was. It was just like earlier today at in her home office, a violent awakening that seemed more common than not.
"Sorry," she apologized after taking a few deep breaths. She recognized her surroundings after coming back to a conscious state. "I don't sleep much," Kiyoko explained.
"Nightmares?" he asked, immediately feeling dumb after the word had gotten out of his mouth. Of course, the woman just had a nightmare - did he have to state the obvious?
"Something like that," she nodded, calming herself down with a sip from her water bottle. "I don't remember much of it. Just a… dreadful wave of anxiety or panic. They happened more often as a child and I suppose I regressed with the trauma of Haru."
"Anything I can do to help?" the Ootori raised an eyebrow in concern. "Sleeping pills?"
Kiyoko shook her head. "I used to take them," she waved off. They were still in the medicine cabinet at home. Eventually, she weaned off of them. "They put me in a haze when I wake up. I couldn't focus at work and I had to be at a high mental capacity to handle the obscenely rich."
"So what do you do?"
"I live with it," she answered like it was the easiest solution.
Kyouya frowned at that. "I never knew this." She always slept soundly beside him. He missed the way she would huddle closer to him for warmth, her backside against his chest while securely tucking his arm around her waist. He would fall asleep to the soft tickle of her hair under his chin and her breathing would slow to sync with his.
"I slept better when I was with you," Kiyoko admitted. "I don't know why."
"Well, we would tire each other out…" he smirked. "I could offer my services any time, Kiyoko."
She rolled her eyes at him. "Moonlighting as a gigolo, now? I don't know if that's a good look for you, Ootori-san. Imagine if your mother knew what you do."
"Says the bartender heiress," Kyouya shot back. "When will you quit?" he urged again.
"It's hard but honest work," she argued back. It kept her busy, the pay was consistent, and it tired her out to sleep enough for the day. She liked being in the kitchen. It reminded her of home. If she was not with Haru, she was with the household staff either cleaning or in the kitchen.
The Ootori couldn't wrap his head around the whole notion of being in the service industry. Kiyoko had a perfectly fine career in the art world. She was a silent investor in restaurants. She had a growing real estate portfolio. It made no sense for her to be serving commoners alcohol and wiping down tables well into the hours of early dawn.
"Kiyoko, what's the plan?" he pestered, worrying for what seemed like a directionless future for someone who had such great potential.
"I'm thinking," she dodged, biting her lip.
"Well, what are you thinking?" Kyouya huffed.
Kiyoko looked out the window and mulled over the thoughts some more. "You really want to know?"
"I would crack your skull open if I could," Kyouya grumbled with a sigh.
She stayed silent for a couple more seconds and her eyes darkened towards the dashboard. The sun was setting and the moon had finally come out of hiding. She emerged from the darkness, reborn from the wrath that had brewed within for months.
"I want to destroy what the Hibayashis have built," she declared. When Kyouya looked over to her to see if she was joking, he was met with a look of simmering rage directed towards nothing but the road.
"I want to ruin them and take away all that they've ever cared about: their wealth, their extravagance, whatever semblance of a reputation they have built. I want it all and I want it burned to the ground," Kiyoko continued without wavering. The anger had distilled and simmered to a degree that was on the edge of boiling over.
The Ootori swallowed cautiously. "But how will you do that as a measly bartender?" he questioned.
She laughed, snapping out of the quiet murderous rage. "You're right. How would I bring down a multimillion dollar corporation by serving drinks? How silly of me."
Kyouya narrowed his eyes at her. "You wouldn't be so silly." He knew better than to underestimate the woman.
"Hm," Kiyoko shrugged playfully. "After work drinks are nice when your job is stressful," she explained. "Especially at a psychiatric hospital."
"So what? You've just been listening to the gossip of your hospital?" Kyouya scoffed.
Kiyoko shrugged nonchalantly. "I've been volunteering there too."
"For what?"
The woman smiled. "People will tell you things if you're nice."
"What plan are you brewing?"
"No plan," she insisted. "Just information gathering. Getting the lay of the land," Kiyoko vaguely answered. "And besides, I'm unable to confirm anything. I don't meet the patients. I just hear stories."
Kyouya pulled to a stop close to the bar where he had been less than 24 hours ago. The drive was long but it felt like it had gone by in a blink of an eye now that they arrived. "Will you come back to me?" He hated that he sounded so pathetic. She squeezed his hand in response and nodded as a promise.
"If you'll have me," she murmured.
"Always," he leaned forward to kiss her temple with his free hand bringing her head towards him. She snuggled against him as much as she could over the console in between them.
"You would settle for a bartender? How would you explain me to your family?" she teased, grazing her lips against his jaw before she looked up at him. She lived for these tender moments with him, and only with him. He was so gentle with her. No one else treated her like she was as fragile as glass. No one else knew her in the way that he knew her either, even if he only knew the tip of the iceberg of her.
"You're an heiress," he reminded gently, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
Kiyoko shook her head. "Not with whatever child that woman is carrying for my father," she sighed. "How many months is she along? At least 6 by now," she roughly calculated. "That really doesn't give me much time."
"What about the paternity test?" the Ootori suggested.
She scoffed. "I would love to see those results but I really don't want anything to do with her. I'm not ready to think of another child being brought into this madness. It was hard enough two decades ago, growing up in the way we did."
Kyouya had to agree. It must not have been an easy childhood and she had always alluded to it. He wished he could take it all away – the remnants of the trauma that trailed behind her like a web of grief that she could not shake off, no matter how much she dusted herself off to rise again against the world.
"Enough about that," she brushed off. "I'm going to be late," Kiyoko sighed. "Get home safe, alright?"
"When will I see you again?" he held onto her hand tightly, refusing to let go without a proper answer from her.
She smiled at him reassuringly. "Let me sort things out here, okay?"
He frowned. "How long? I don't want to lose you again."
"You won't," Kiyoko comforted. "I can't stop volunteering at the hospital, I'm getting somewhere with that one."
"Fine," the Ootori huffed. "But can I come visit you?"
She chuckled. "I don't think you can survive in our cabin. Can you chop wood? Tend a fire? Deal with the snow?"
Kyouya blinked. These words have never been spoken to him in the same string of a sentence. Why would he ever need to chop wood? "You don't have people for that?"
Kiyoko hummed. "We do. Or, we did when Haru was around. They took care of the housekeeping duties and tended to him. But there is no need for that now."
"So you chop wood?" Kyouya eyed her suspiciously. She was all bones and barely any meat. She was probably stronger than she looked but certainly did not look like she could handle an axe daily.
Kiyoko pursed her lips. "Toshio-san takes care of most of it," she admitted. "The housekeepers check on me like I'm a starved pet," she grumbled.
"Well if they didn't, who would?"
"You, probably," she teased with a smirk. "But I was doing just fine," Kiyoko insisted.
The Ootori shook his head at her. "You stubborn witch."
"Oooh," she mused, entertaining the thought. "Most people call me a bitch, but I do like being a witch too. What does that make you?"
"A mere human," he sighed. "Enchanted by your powers."
She laughed quietly at that. He wanted to bottle the feeling that bloomed in his chest whenever she made that sound. "Don't be silly. You're the almighty Ootori. You would never succumb to a nobody like me." She kissed the corner of his mouth and cupped his cheek as she nudged her nose against his own, comforting him.
"You're not nobody," he told her, time and time again. "You're meant to achieve something great."
Kiyoko shrugged. "If you say so. I'll be late for my shift. Drive safe, alright?" She kissed him on the mouth with tenderness, stretching over the console. She was more affectionate now, as if trying to placate his concerns with physical intimacy that they had missed over the past few months. The Ootori had to admit: it was working. This was her power and he let her use it on him willingly. In one swift motion, she pulled away and disappeared into the izakaya without another word. All he could do was watch.
"Oi, what's that car doing here?" Toshio-san bellowed as soon as he walked through the door of the cabin. A stranger swivelled their head over to the entrance like a deer caught in headlights, thrown off by the sudden intrusion.
Toshio-san recognized the figure on the sofa with the laptop nestled on his legs and a quick adjustment of his glasses had him sitting upright with an air of nonchalance. "The kid's got a guest," he called out to the woman that followed behind him with an armful of grocery bags.
"A guest?" Maoru-san echoed in confusion. "I didn't bring enough food for guests!" she wailed. "How am I supposed to prepare anything in the middle of nowhere? Where is Kiyoko-san?"
The two elder Hibayashi housestaff stepped into the cabin and stared at the Ootori. Toshio-san raised an eyebrow, half-impressed that the kid had the tenacity to even make it out here. Maoru-san eyed him up and down, ending with an angry scornful sigh.
"Ootori-san, was it?" She recognized him from dinner at the estate many months ago.
"Yes," Kyouya nodded.
"Yes, ma'am," the woman corrected him sharply. "It would do you good to show some respect to your elders. Kaeda-san would've showered you with affection by now if she were here on her shift. She's too soft."
"Yes, ma'am," the Ootori uttered, confused and now cold by the winter air that seeped through the entrance. These were the people who raised the Hibayashi siblings - no wonder why they were so awfully hard headed and stubborn.
"Now, where is Kiyoko-san?" the elders looked around for the woman that they were both here for.
Kiyoko poked her head through the door with her own armful of groceries, just in time before Kyouya could sputter some lame excuse. She had on a wool hat and was dressed in a puffed down coat and sturdy snow boots, well-made for winter. Kiyoko gracefully closed the door, joining the crowd of familiar people who had stopped by at their usual schedule on an early Saturday afternoon.
"Maoru-san," she bowed slightly with respect. "Old man," she greeted the alternative with an eye roll. Kiyoko took off her hat and rested her fogging glasses behind her ears. The lenses acted like a headband to hold back her long silky mane of black. "I really need those contacts," she muttered, annoyed at the condensation that built. "Did you have the time to pick up my prescription?"
"Pick up your goddamn prescription," Toshio smacked her shoulder. "Are we servants running your errands for you?" Toshio-san scolded.
"Technically, no," Kiyoko responded monotonously. "But you sure still act like you're part of our staff."
Maoru-san rummaged through her bags. "Here you go, miss," she handed over the box.
"Thank you, Maoru-san," Kiyoko received the box with her two mittened hands and bowed deeply.
Toshio frowned. "How come she's so nice to you?" he complained.
"Because I like her better," Kiyoko shot back. "What are you doing here?"
"No," the uncle crossed his arms. "What is he doing here?" He pointed over to the stranger.
The crowd turned their attention back to the Ootori who had sat stiffly on the couch, eyes darting back and forth with a twinge of fear.
"You sent him," the Hibayashi rolled her eyes. "Isn't that your fault, Toshio-san?"
"I sent him to talk to you, not to stay here like an uninvited guest! How long has he been staying over?"
"None of your business!" Kiyoko waved off. She was a grown adult. What was Toshio-san doing acting like a father who had just caught his teenage daughter with their friend who happened to be a boy anyway? "Maoru-san, let me help with your bags."
The women worked in silence, emptying bags and placing the respective foods in the fridge. Maoru-san silently began preparing a homecooked meal for lunch, chopping up the vegetables while Kiyoko worked on the soup stock.
"What are you doing with that child?" Maoru-san sighed, prodding the girl in a low voice. "He follows you around like a puppy. He was at the estate with his family months ago, wasn't he? Dinner with the Ootoris. He came chasing after you when you disappeared."
"I didn't ask him to," Kiyoko pushed back in a whisper. "Believe me, I tried to tell him not to."
The elder frowned. "Is he good to you?"
"Better than most people," she shrugged.
"Does he know?"
"About what?" Kiyoko feigned ignorance.
Maoru-san pointed the knife at the child. "Does he know?" About Haru and the rest of the family.
"He knows enough," Kiyoko ignored the knife. "Besides, there is not enough time to go through the intricacies of our family history." Kiyoko wouldn't have been able to remember it anyhow. She willingly repressed all the whispers and rumours that swirled around the family. It was no help that her father was now expecting another child with a woman her age. She mindlessly stirred the stock in the pot without making eye contact.
"He should see you as you are," the elder lectured.
"Yes, psychotic like the rest of the family," Kiyoko chuckled. "On the edge of a mental breakdown, ready to throw anything in my eyesight," she continued on with a dramatic flair, waving her arms around.
"No," the knife came up again, fully knowing that Kiyoko was not one to flinch. "You may be cold but you learned to protect yourself. Your kindness has always been the core of your being, just like Haru."
"I'm not kind," Kiyoko shook her head. "Charity work is purely for a tax break," the woman added.
"There is no tax break to pay off a stranger's debt, young lady," Maoru-san frowned. "You think I would believe some mysterious entity would just pay off that kind of sum for my daughter? For the staff of the Hibayashi household?"
Kiyoko raised an eyebrow. "Well, why not? I surely don't have that kind of money to spare. Perhaps my grandmother was feeling charitable for all of your years of service, ma'am."
"Nonsense," the elder scolded. The Hibayashi matriarch had no interest in the personal lives of her staff. "Now that young man out there, does he like fish?" Maoru-san pulled out a whole tilapia from the insulated grocery bag. "A way to a man's heart is through his stomach, after all."
"Careful now," Kiyoko warned. "He'll fall in love with you if you keep that up."
Outside the kitchen, the men sat across from each other in a dull silence for as long as Toshio could stand it. The elder man stared down the Ootori with a frown. "I said talk to her, not stick around her like a pathetic puppy."
"Pathetic?" he echoed in offense. "And what have you done for her these past few months while she is grieving?"
"More than what you'll ever know," Toshio-san hit the back of his Kyouya's head in one swift motion. "I thought she would come to her senses and stop working at that seedy bar by now because of you."
"I tried to," Kyouya snapped. "Her stubbornness knows no bounds."
Kiyoko poked her head out the door with a scowl. "You say that shit again and I'll poison you both. Do you both not have the decency to at least keep it down?" she snarled as she carried a large steaming donabe for the group to share. Maoru-san came in with the rice and other side dishes. They sat down like a mismatched puzzle of a family.
"When are you going to stop moping around, Kiyoko?" Toshio-san pointed his chopsticks at the girl.
"That's rude," she swatted away his chopsticks with her own and grabbed a pickled radish closest to his bowl.
"He has a point," the Ootori tried.
"Shut your mouth," Kiyoko threw daggers with her eyes.
"Kiyoko!" Maoru-san scolded.
"With rice," the girl added with gritted teeth. "Kindly eat your rice."
"Ootori-san, please forgive our Kiyoko — we have tried our best to instill proper manners into this child since the minute she was born."
Kyouya smirked at the woman, amused by this new dynamic he was allowed to witness. This truly felt like a proper family dinner. They ate their meal in a comfortable silence before Kiyoko turned over to the elders in a tone that only meant business.
"Old man," she changed the topic.
"Who are you calling old–"
"What do you know about Asami's whereabouts?"
The elders looked at each other in confusion. "Are you sure–" Maoru-san uncomfortably broached the topic, averting her eyes away from the Ootori that was clearly not part of the clan.
"He's fine," Kiyoko pointed her chopsticks at Kyouya. "Let him have a taste of the family if he hasn't already gotten enough of it."
"What do you need her for?" Toshio-san growled. "Once she runs out of money, she'll come back, you know that. Are you going to be the one to pay her off?"
Kiyoko sat back on her chair and placed down her chopsticks. With her eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed, she asked, "Do you think she would have the means to kill me?"
Maoru-san gasped. "No! Miss, she's your–"
"Mother," Kiyoko rolled her eyes. "A loose term. But she would have the motive to kill? One less person to worry about in the line of inheritance, right?"
Toshio-san sighed at the mess of it all. "Who told you about your mother?"
"My grandmother," Kiyoko rolled her eyes. "A reliable source. Now, back to Asami, is she psychotic enough to actually kill for money?"
"No," the both of the staff agreed. "Unstable she may be, but she needs the family to survive."
"Then who would try to kill me?" Kiyoko wondered out loud.
"Nobody is trying to kill you, kid," Toshio-san scoffed. "Are you actually going crazy in here? I'm going to pull you out of here whether you like it or not."
"I didn't think so either," Kiyoko retaliated. "Why would anyone come kill me? I just assumed it was some freak accident. I haven't done anything that would put a target on my back business-wise. I haven't dealt with the syndicate in years and even then, they have bigger fish to fry than me of all people," she thought outloud.
"Syndicate?" Kyouya repeated with his mouth agape.
"Oi, is that yakuza friend of yours still selling cars? I just restored an old-school GTR–"
"Why aren't you more concerned about her business dealings?" the Ootori cut in, absolutely aghast at how the topic changes so quickly amongst the group. "You know they're criminals, right?"
Kiyoko laughed at the Ootori for his innocence. "Because I dealt art, not drugs or weapons, silly. Money is money no matter what. And besides, it doesn't hurt to have some muscle around here given what I just went through."
The elder chimed in with a deep laugh, resonating through the walls of the homey cabin. "Ha, look at his face! This kid would never last in a fight." Kyouya stared wide-eyed through the lenses and his mouth slightly agape, horrified at the nonchalant behaviour of them all.
"And you think Kiyoko could?" Kyouya huffed. The woman hardly had any meat left on her bones since the last time he saw her.
"She has always been tough," Maoru-san shoved another piece of fish into Kiyoko's empty bowl. "Eat more."
Kiyoko shoved the food into her mouth without resistance. "The point is, I'm not out here moping - I'm trying to piece it all together."
"Why do you have to do it here?" Kyouya wondered. It was the middle of nowhere in the forest. Kyouya would have much preferred being back in the city where there was central heating, not a fireplace.
"At first it was convenient just to get away somewhere secluded," Kiyoko responded simply. "Toshio-san brought me to our family hospital nearby one day," she continued. "Probably to snap me out of my grief. I recognized the name of the hospital from some of the financial statements I skimmed over last year. It pulled in a lot more money than the rest and I wondered why."
"Did you find out?" the Ootori pressed.
Kiyoko shook her head. "My guess was a higher number of VIP guests. But privacy is stellar in there, as it should be. So I set up shop at a bar where a lot of the psychiatric hospital staff gather after work."
"And then what?" The plan seemed flimsy at best in terms of rationale and the entire table did not hide their worry for the heiress.
The woman shook her head. "I thought I would get more insight into who is staying there but it is harder than it usually is to snoop for information."
"What are you expecting?" the Ootori wondered.
She pursed her lips. "I'm not sure, it was just a hunch that something might be going on - especially if I'm going to be killed over it, it must be money-related."
"You have 5 other hospital locations," the Ootori reasoned. "If there is anything happening business-wise, it should be at the headquarters of your company not the middle of the forest."
"But the middle of the forest would be so convenient to hide something, no?" Kiyoko argued back. "Like, hiding a body," she offered, hoping for a laugh but her audience only stared back at her with horror.
"Whatever," Kiyoko moved on. "All of you need to stop with the pity parties we keep having here," she put her foot down. "I'm fine."
"Then get back to your normal life," Toshio snapped. "I'll believe it when I see it."
"I'm not interested in art anymore," Kiyoko announced. "There is no point when I did it all for Haru."
"So what will you do?" the Ootori was eager to know, mostly out of worry at her seemingly directionless stint but a twinge of curiosity had always attracted him to her.
She looked him in the eye and smiled in a way that always gave chills down their spine. A skill she had mastered since she was a teen.
"What I said I would do: destroy this company," Kiyoko answered simply.
Back in her townhome, in the outskirts of Tokyo, Kiyoko put on the upscale skincare that were dearly missed. She had reluctantly been convinced to leave the cabin after Toshio-san had complained about these trips as being a nuisance. Kyouya had driven back to the reliable comfort of the city in silence, clearly deep in his own thought over the course of two hours. Kiyoko let him be and got ready for the night as she usually did while her skin soaked up the nutrients of her serums. Kyouya stood by the doorway as he usually would, waiting for her with his arms crossed even though Kiyoko had told him to go home numerous times.
"You cannot destroy your family, Kiyoko," he finally spoke after hours of ruminating. It had been weighing on his mind for the entire afternoon. At first, Kyouya thought she had spoken it into existence as a means of venting. To know she was serious about it made the Ootori spiral into a whole variety of scenarios that never ended up well. "Think of the repercussions. Your wealth, for one."
Kiyoko willfully ignored the man's protests and continued patting her skin dry with once again, another layer of mystery cream that looked all the same to the Ootori.
"What wealth?" she scoffed. "I live rather humbly," Kiyoko responded as she dabbed on La Mer cream, hoping that the Ootori had no clue how much such a tub had costed her. It was the only time where men could be blissfully unaware. "And I have no family," she rolled her eyes at the word. It sickened her now.
"Kiyoko, your hospitals are not worth a small amount to throw away," Kyouya tried to speak some sense into her. He had run the numbers in his head on the drive back, thinking about the potential of what she could have inherited if she just stuck to the plan of listening to her grandmother's wishes. It was a simple thing to do: marry the Ootori. And here he was, still waiting for her hand in marriage.
"I am well aware," Kiyoko answered with as much patience she could muster. She was tired of being lectured all day from not only her house staff, but now this man who could only see the logic behind it all. She was not a child, she was a grown woman who understood what she was willing to sacrifice more than anybody else.
"What are you even going to do? Publish a tell-all? Gossip is just gossip," Kyouya frowned. Even if the family had been marred by decades of scandals, all of which were just considered hearsay and the waves of humiliation and shame were nothing but an inconvenience to the stock prices that always found their footing at the end of the day. The Hibayashi Corporation continued to reign in healthcare, particularly in psychiatry.
Kiyoko shot daggers at the man through her mirror with her eyes. "I was nearly killed, Kyouya - do you think writing a stupid fucking tell-all piece would save my life? My goodness, my writing skills can be put to better use than that," she seethed. Kiyoko turned around and walked straight up to the man with rage in her eyes as she stared him down face to face. He instinctively backed towards the wall, straightening himself up even though the woman hardly came up to his chin. This was the power of the Hibayashi heiress in its true form.
"Heir to the Ootori Corporation is no longer an option for you, after I destroy all of my own family's fortune, hm?" Kiyoko spoke the deep seated truth. "When you put your eggs in one psychotic little basket, this is what you get," she angrily pointed her finger against his sternum, her voice growing deeper and her eyes sharpening by the second. "Don't say I didn't warn you, Ootori-san."
Kyouya blinked at the woman. He could have sworn that her finger could feel the drumming of his heartbeat. He was thankful that she no longer had those claw nails that would have poked his skin with more force and discomfort. The Ootori was beyond the point where he would be scared of Kiyoko and somehow, his breathing quickened at her proximity to him. Slowly, he grabbed her wrist and pulled down her hand in surrender. He would never admit that he was deeply attracted to her even though she was on the verge of what seemed like a murderous rampage and he was unfortunately in her way.
"I'm sorry," he said evenly, trying his best not to set her off again. "I'm worried for you," Kyouya explained. "You don't have a concrete plan, even if you wanted to tear it all down nor an income that is remotely close to what your lifestyle was at by working at the seedy bar."
"That is up to me to worry about," Kiyoko shook off his grip and crossed her arms.
"You are not psychotic," he reminded gently. "You're hurt." Kyouya pulled her closer to him gingerly, only to have her step away.
She frowned. "I know what I am," Kiyoko's icy exterior was still unbroken.
"Do you?" Kyouya smiled amusedly at her scowling face.
"Why are you doing that with your face?" she snapped at the grin. "I'm angry."
"You're angry at the situation, you're not angry at me for being the voice of reason," Kyouya saw through the rage with a bit of patience. "You know I have a point here."
Kiyoko sighed and shook her head. "Shut up and go to bed," she ordered.
"I thought you told me to go home," he reminded with an air of smugness. "It's too bad I am already home, isn't it?"
She shoved him out the door with a huff and ignored his advances until she fell asleep for the first time in a long time, caged in between his arms and breathing his scent that gave her comfort for the first time in months. He held her tightly, fearing that she would slither away in his arms while he slept as she usually did.
Kyouya could not afford to lose her again. Likewise, Kiyoko began realizing that she could not afford to lose any more than she already had, including him.
Kyouya had busied himself in the office and eagerly left work with the rest of his colleagues. It was a startling change for his underlings, being able to leave at 5 instead of past 7. No one complained or even mentioned a word when the Ootori braved the rush hour traffic. What could possibly be more important than his work?
By the end of the week, Kiyoko had slowly transformed back to the same woman he had remembered. The house was restocked with pantry items and the fridge was full. She spent days holed up in her study, files askew and her whiteboard full of cryptic words that Kyouya did not bother to decipher - it was enough of a headache to deal with his own job, after all. He left her alone, trusting that the woman had enough sense to deal with whatever she had been cooking up. Kyouya could not help but to have an inkling of fear of what Kiyoko was capable of, given the amount of conviction she already had brewing beneath that cool exterior.
Kyouya stepped into the home with the beeping of her security system and the waft of dinner being cooked. She never came to greet him, not caring for pleasantries. Quite frankly, it felt like marital bliss over the past week and the Ootori had grown rather fond of it. As he entered the kitchen, her back was turned to the stove and her luscious layered long hair had been cut to her neck.
She turned her head and watched as he studied her. "You don't like it?" she raised an eyebrow at him. Her makeup was done to perfection like she had returned home after some kind of business engagement.
"Even if I didn't, you wouldn't care," Kyouya shrugged, noting the layers and small baby hairs that framed her face when she subconsciously placed the hair behind her ears in a small act of insecurity. She looked older and more polished than she did with her long hair that she often pulled into a bun or high ponytail.
"Hm," Kiyoko nodded in agreement, even though she did care, even if it was just a little from him. "You're right."
"You look beautiful," he tried to recover from the initial shock. Truly, she always looked stunning to him. She just never believed so. Kyouya pulled her waist closer to him, examining her hair by nudging her with his nose in the crook of her neck that was now exposed. She smelled like peonies and it was intoxicating to him. He could drown in this forever.
"You seemed rather hesitant about it," Kiyoko pointed out without shrugging the weight away. He always came to hug her after work while she was busy with the cooking for the day, and it was his silent greeting to her.
"Why the cut?" he wondered.
"Why not?" she mused.
Kyouya looked at her sceptically, knowing that the dramatic change had to stem from tried not to pry any further, after all Kiyoko never did well with being interrogated. Kyouya had to learn patience in the rawest form when it came to her. Kiyoko shrugged him off and began plating their food for the night.
"It was about time," Kiyoko brushed off. "Aren't you tired of having my hair in your face?"
The Ootori shook his head. "I find comfort in it."
"And so did Haru," she murmured. "I kept my hair long for years because the last time I cut it, he was very upset. He did not do well with change," Kiyoko explained as she placed rice in their respective ceramic bowls.
"Ah," Kyouya nodded in understanding, seating himself in his usual spot at the dining table across from her.
She quietly placed the food in front of him. He loosened his tie and let his jacket rest on the seat to be magically dry-cleaned, despite knowing that it was most certainly Kiyoko who took care of it silently without complaint.
"The length gave him the ability to braid it," Kiyoko continued. "He found the activity to be calming."
"I can't braid," Kyouya admitted.
She chuckled at the thought of the Ootori braiding hair. "Of course not," Kiyoko rolled her eyes. "Why would you?"
"Why would Haru?" Kyouya countered.
Kiyoko blinked, fondly remembering the moments in their childhood where Haru would speak only to her and nobody else. Years of speech therapy and only he was willing to use speech with his little sister, and on the occasion, some of their housekeepers. He adored her in the truest form, happily brushing her hair with his fingers under their favourite tree after running around in the fields on a sunny afternoon. They picked flowers, found small bugs, and chased butterflies until they were exhausted. She was his only friend and he was her protector until she became his protector.
"Because he was a good big brother," Kiyoko smiled. "The best big brother one could ask for."
"Do you miss him?" The Ootori gently asked.
Kiyoko nodded slowly as she swallowed a spoonful of rice. The bob of her hair followed with the movement. "I do," she said, refusing to cry at the thought. He was gone for months now - it should have been easier to deal with the grief after all this time.
"Then why cut the hair?" Kyouya asked so naturally that he did not have the time to think about the emotional weight of the topic.
Kiyoko sighed and faced the truth of it all to the one man who was willing to listen. "Because his life gave me purpose and I had none of it when he no longer existed. I studied to understand him. I gambled because I needed capital for him. I became a gallerist because he needed a source of income that would not be supplied by our family. I spent so much of my life around him that I did not know how to live for myself."
"Did therapy teach you that?" the Ootori half-joked.
Kiyoko scoffed and chewed on the steamed vegetables. She had no energy to go speak to a stranger about how she was feeling. All she did in the past few months was feel the emotions she was always told to repress and ignore. The most painful part was the processing of it all while you were hollow. "Time teaches you," she eventually settled.
"You seem like you have revived yourself," he quietly pointed out. It had been a week of living back in the city. Kiyoko had regained her claw nails painted in a dark brown - he noticed them after he had come home and planted a kiss that she reciprocated with her nails digging into his jaw. It led to other fond memories that he could not afford to replay in this moment when he had finally gotten some headway into understanding her thoughts.
Her hair had been cut to a length he had never seen before, a welcomed change. The life in her eyes had been relit. Her days were somehow taken up by some sort of revenge plot that seemed rather silly to the Ootori, but he knew better than to revisit the topic.
"I can't just leave him behind," Kiyoko murmured. "Obaa-san only saw him as a nuisance. My father would not even acknowledge his existence. Our mother is dead. I cannot just abandon him like the rest of the family did. I cannot be so cruel."
"And yet, even in his death, you continue to live for him?" Kyouya was careful with his tone, tiptoeing around the same topic that angered her only a few days ago. "Is this what he would have wanted for you?" To go on some silly revenge plot until it was all over and she was left with the same thing: without a purpose, directionless and empty, destroying her own source of wealth that she was set to inherit.
"Life had always been about what Haru wanted or needed," Kiyoko sighed. "He was given a free pass to always emote his discontent, his anger, his discomfort, and his sadness. I don't care if he would not have wanted to know why he was killed or what he would feel about me right now. I deserve to know. I want answers," she seethed. "I want retribution, Kyouya. I deserve to take what I now want. I deserve to feel the way that I feel."
"And then what?" the Ootori pressed on, careful not to dismiss her valid point. Kiyoko deserved the right to live the way she wanted to, even if it was full of spite. "After you have destroyed it all - then what?"
Kiyoko shrugged. "Maybe some peace and quiet? I don't know. I don't care. So run while you can, Kyouya. I will not change my mind," she warned him.
The Ootori sat back and stared at Kiyoko who ate her dinner gracefully without a care. How could she speak so freely about something so terrifying to him? The thought of his own fortune being destroyed by his own hands was beyond a possibility for him to even try to imagine.
"What's your plan, Kiyoko?" he sighed in exhaustion. The Ootori was already far too invested to pull out of this mess. "Does it involve murder?" he pressed.
Kiyoko looked up from the table and cackled at the thought. "Rotting in jail for murder seems rather silly when I can watch others rot instead, no?" she rolled her eyes. "If you remember correctly, my brother was murdered. To be frank, I think committing murder is quite merciful on my part."
"That doesn't answer the question," the Ootori pinched his nose bridge as his brain tried to sort out other scenarios that were less than ideal for the woman. How could she laugh at such a thing? And to think murder was an act of mercy to her enemies?
"How sweet of you to remind me that I am indeed capable of murder," Kiyoko grinned at the thought. She spent many years growing into that persona and it was no doubt that her clients had enough resources for such a favour. "But that would really put a damper on my plans to live happily if I were the one in jail, Kyouya. Don't be silly."
"Who do you think is behind it all?" Kyouya did not have the bandwidth like Kiyoko did to work this out when he had a full-time job to focus on.
"My father's mistress," Kiyoko responded easily. "Who is pregnant with an heir," she reminded. Now that Kiyoko had taken the time to really think about who had motive, it was more of a puzzle to piece together the evidence.
"But you're the heir," Kyouya declared. "Your grandmother has made that clear." Especially in those omiais in a last-ditch effort to save the reputation of the family. "Your father's mistress has no claim." Kiyoko had thought the same thing for a long time which had explained why she willfully ignored the budding branch of the family tree.
"If only I were dead," Kiyoko rolled her eyes. "How inconvenient that I am still alive and breathing," she frowned comically with her innocent doe eyes.
Kyouya's eyes widened at the realization. "I'm putting our private police force as security personnel from now on," he reached for his phone in his pocket. She needed bodyguards immediately.
Kiyoko slapped his arm to prevent him from doing so. "Don't draw attention to me. A secondary attempt on my life would be crass on their part," she scoffed.
"Kiyoko! You could die," the Ootori raised his voice. Her bravery always dawdled on the border of recklessness and stupidity to him.
"I also could have died months ago," she answered nonchalantly. "But I didn't," Kiyoko sat up straighter and looked him in the eye with determination, facing the possibility of death with vengeance. "I will not put Haru's death in vain. He saved my life by giving up his, even if it was an accident."
The Ootori calmed down for a moment, but the look of concern was unwilling to be erased from his face.
"So what will you do?" Kyouya groaned, unsure of how he could possibly help. "How will you put that woman in jail?" It was much easier said than done. If neither him or his private police force could find any leads on the accident, the chances seemed slim that Kiyoko could do so.
"I can start by putting my father in jail," Kiyoko was finally confident in her findings to say it out loud. "I found the funds he was embezzling!" Kyouya had never seen so much excitement on the woman's face. His stomach churned at the thought of the amount of money lost while Kiyoko was on the edge of her seat, eager and ready to burst with her news. "It took months to follow the accounts but I accessed the invoices while I was volunteering."
The Ootori was both impressed and horrified. "How much?"
"Hm," Kiyoko did the math quickly in her head. "A couple hundred..."
"Thousand?" Kyouya interjected, slightly relieved that it could have been worse. That was easily recoverable.
"Million," the woman corrected. Kyouya had trouble swallowing his food hearing the word. He coughed violently and averted his eyes away from the woman who was on the verge of infuriating him for her nonchalance. The Hibayashi corporation was no small sum of wealth but this certainly put a damper on it all. "Probably to secure the funds for his unborn child if we pretend that he's being noble about it. But if we're being honest it's probably for himself," she surmised.
"Kiyoko, this is a serious offense," the Ootori lectured. Kiyoko was far too gleeful about this.
The woman shot back with a glare. "Yes, of course, Ootori-san. I thought that was well-established. But he's rich and has an army of lawyers so if we're going to be realistic, we would just oust him from the board of directors. Jail time for him is a pipe dream for me," Kiyoko sighed.
The heiress watched the man put down his utensils in distress, already feeling his anxiety seeping from the other side. Kiyoko rolled her eyes again, unamused by the man's aversion to financial risk.
"Kyouya, please," Kiyoko snapped. "You worry as much as an old man does over nothing."
"This isn't nothing!" he retorted. "This is a crime."
"White collar crime," she scoffed.
"You were nearly murdered!" They were back to square one.
Kiyoko shrugged. "It was an unsuccessful attempt at murder," she muttered with a groan as she stood from the kitchen table to walk over to her wine cooler. Her long nails tapped on a glorious Bordeaux she had tasted many years ago while on a trip to close a large art deal. She had bought a whole case of it back in the day and she was now down to one single bottle. The cork came out with a swift pop before she poured a generous amount for the Ootori.
"Here," she handed over with her perfectly manicured claws. "Relax," Kiyoko demanded.
"You aren't making it easy," Kyouya frowned before reluctantly taking a gulp. When he finally settled down enough to enjoy the glass, it felt like a warm hug from within.
"Listen," Kiyoko swirled the liquid in her glass cooly. "And listen very closely to this mad woman, Kyouya," she warned with a sweet smile. "This was never about money," Kiyoko reminded. "I can make money, I don't have to inherit it."
Kyouya pushed up his glasses from his nose bridge and gave up with a sigh. "Fine," he sipped on more of the wine. "Whatever you say, mad woman. How do I help?"
"Help?" she stared at him in confusion. "Why would you help?" He had been treating her like her revenge plot was some kind of idea for a novel, not an actual plan of sorts.
"Because I want to get this madness over with so I can have some fucking peace with you, Kiyoko," Kyouya growled. "I want you to live without the thought of murder looming around the corner so I can fucking sleep at night too."
"I sleep just fine when I'm with you," Kiyoko waved him off.
"And without me?" he raised an eyebrow. She did not sleep at all.
"This discussion is veering off course," she pivoted. "I'm just saying I have this under control. Drink your wine, eat your dinner, and stop worrying for me."
"If I don't, who will?"
Kiyoko silently drank her wine instead of answering the question. Kyouya stabbed the rest of the food to shove it into his mouth within minutes. What tasted so delightful was now lost after angrily finishing off the rest of his sustenance. He silently stood to put his dishes in the sink after months of training by Kiyoko.
"Where are you going?" she frowned. Kyouya stepped out of the kitchen and over to the foyer unexpectedly. She thought he would at least finish the bottle of wine with her and they would silently read on their tablets on the couch as they usually did. It was their night time routine of sorts. Horrendously domestic but now comforting.
"Home," he answered.
"Home?" she repeated dumbly. I thought this was your home. Kiyoko knew how stupid that sounded in her head and refused to say it aloud. Only a "Why?" escaped out of her lips.
"Because you don't seem to value yourself as I do you. What will it take for you to understand that your life is not something to be thrown away as I watch in fear for you? I'm tired of this, Kiyoko."
"Tired of us?" She seethed.
"No," Kyouya shook his head. "I love you but I cannot watch you try to throw away your life like this without a concrete plan."
"You don't trust me," Kiyoko snarled in an accusatory tone.
"You aren't giving me any good reason to."
"So you're leaving?"
Kyouya sighed. "I'm tired of chasing you, Kiyoko. I'm tired of playing catch up with you when you're somewhere else, ten steps ahead and leaving me in the dust without any opportunity to support you."
"I never said I needed your support. I asked for you to stop worrying."
The Ootori shook his head and stepped into his loafers. "Good night, Kiyoko."
"Wait," she frantically called out to him as he opened the door. "You can't just…"
Tell me you love me and then leave me. Worry for me and then tell me you're tired of me.
Kiyoko stood at the empty door of her townhouse in stunned silence, abandoned by the person she had thought would stay.