Chapter 30
His alarm went off at 8 in the morning and he rolled over to an empty bed. It would have been a usual occurrence if he did not remember tightly holding onto her waist as he fell asleep. Small and lithe, he made sure to hold her so she could not escape. Kyouya had no memory of her wrangling herself out of his grip. Did she even sleep well? Or at all?
He could have sworn she fell asleep beside him. He made sure of it.
His eyelids were heavy as he pawed his way over the nightstand to snooze his alarm. Mornings were difficult. Maybe it was all a dream. She didn't come back after all.
His alarm went off again after what felt like 30 seconds and it was shut off immediately with a tap of a nail. There was a sigh of annoyance.
"Are you usually late for work?"
It wasn't a dream. Kyouya pried his eyes open, mostly in disbelief. She wore her hair in a high bun, dressed in black to blend into the shadows of her room. She could have been the prettiest grim reaper he had ever seen, ready to accept his death if it meant following her to the gates of hell.
"You're still here?" he sputtered as his body sat upright.
"This is my house," Kiyoko reminded him. "And I have errands to run."
"Errands?" he repeated, clearly foreign to the concept.
Rich people did not have errands, they had people to do errands for them. Where did this woman get her energy from?
"Yes," she responded impatiently. "Get up," Kiyoko urged while he sleepily rubbed his eyes. "I need your help." Kiyoko pushed her blackout curtains open with one fell swoop.
"Help?" his brain could only handle repeating what he heard from her. Blinded by the light, this was the rude awakening he did not want to start off the morning with. She dragged him up, forcibly bringing him to the bathroom and crossed her arms with a scowl. She handed him his toothbrush while he sleepily fought the urge to close his eyes again. It was like watching a child get up for school. There was no urgency in this man and it drove her up the wall with irritancy.
By the time he spat out the toothpaste, Kyouya was finally able to look at her through the mirror. The skin-tight dress with a high thigh slit nearly made him salivate. Her armour of the day hugged her curves, her high bun gave her the extra height she needed to appear taller than she really was. He stared at her lips, a neutral mauve colour that did not push the envelope too much. Her eyes were lined minimally, lashes curled and extended enough with brows that shaped her oval face. She leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, eyes laser-focused and unamused by his silent stare.
"I have a long shot of a plan," Kiyoko cut to the chase. This was what woke her at dawn. Technically more like 4:43 when the sun had hardly risen. Somehow, somewhere in the depths of her brain – she had to get it out. Her whiteboard had been reworked, now with a whole slew of numbers and percentages.
"Did you sleep?" he asked, ignoring her sudden bout of motivation. Kiyoko was the definition of burn out. Somehow she just kept coming back alive and it fascinated him but worried him all the same.
"Yes," she responded. "I slept enough."
"Are you going to a funeral?" Kyouya eyed her all-black ensemble, still avoiding the one thing that she seemed to be itching to speak about. It felt too early for all of this madness.
"Actually," Kiyoko cocked an eyebrow. "I am."
"Whose?"
"My enemies," she told him, her voice sweet like syrup. It was meant to be a light joke until Kiyoko saw the worry plastered over his face through the mirror. She sounded delusional, as if she were going through a manic moment. The sort that everyone would warn people about when it came to the mentally unstable.
She took a deep breath. "Is it too much?" Am I too much? She knew the answer was yes but took a long look at herself. Kiyoko thought she had looked put together. Although her normal self was nowhere near as frenzied as she currently was. She just needed to get it all out of her system and Kyouya would have to be the person to deal with it.
"No," he retracted. "No, you look," Kyouya tried to find the right word. Exquisite. Incredible. Elegant. "Nice," he stuttered.
She pursed her lips at his lukewarm response to her appearance. "Thanks," she responded tersely. "Are you ready to go to work now? I'll drive."
The Ootori blinked at her. What did she mean drive?
"I need your car," Kiyoko explained. "I need to run some errands," she repeated, once again. Her patience waning thinner by the second.
Kyouya agreed without much reason not to and got ready while she went downstairs. By the time he made it to her kitchen, she had already pulled a double shot of espresso for him. He thanked her quietly with a careful kiss to her temple, wary about her boundaries. If she hadn't been so adamant on being strictly business, he would have lost his self control in the bathroom. He was hungry for her, itching to touch her everywhere she would allow him to. It would have been the reward for the rude awakening. He nearly lost himself in the way he would devour her if she hadn't pulled up her tablet and sat across from him as he sipped on coffee.
"What is this?" he was confused. Did she wake up at the brink of dawn to make a presentation? For him of all people?
"Relax," Kiyoko warned him to settle down. "This is a rough proposal. I didn't have time to make this look pretty so these slides are the bare bones."
Her clawed finger swiped to the title slide. "I can't do a hostile takeover," Kiyoko admitted. She didn't have the capital for it. She couldn't even try to attempt to destroy this company without getting crushed by the financial pressure of giving it all up.
"But," she slowly gestured to the presentation. "We can orchestrate a bear hug." The same thing as a hostile takeover, disguised with a lot more money.
"We?" Kyouya did not like the sound of the word we when he was not consulted on it.
"You bring the capital," Kiyoko explained. "You acquire the corporation. You push everyone in my family off the board." Three simple steps.
"There is no way–"
"There is," the Hibayashi insisted. She knew the board members better than he did. A handful of it was her family but the majority of the shareholders were old partners that have lasted over two generations, and some were still from her grandmother's era, hopefully just one heart attack away from being cremated. She studied them for weeks, quietly putting out feelers across the land to understand who they were: their history, their past-times, where they dined, what the rest of the upper class had said about them. The work was not for nothing, after all.
"My father's embezzling woes will be an easy win to prove that he is unfit to lead," Kiyoko continued. "The board will oust him without opposition unless he has them wrapped around their finger for something else."
"Then what about your grandmother," Kyouya reminded. After her father was gone, what did that leave her? "She would never agree–"
"That's not the point here," Kiyoko reminded. "She will be outnumbered by the rest of the board members."
"Alright," Kyouya could agree with the simple numbers game.
"This is where you need to get your lawyers and finances on the same page," the Hibayashi continued with another slide, timing the segue perfectly. "For an offer that nobody in their right mind would refuse besides my senile grandmother, you would have to offer a premium of at least 20%."
"20%? Absolutely not." Kyouya disagreed, glancing at the rough estimate that Kiyoko had pulled together.
"Yes," Kiyoko countered, urging him to listen. "More specifically, a 23% premium for an actual buyout that the board members would agree to. Money is power. Money is what does the talking. We need money," Kiyoko pointed to the graphs on the slide to state the obvious.
"23% is absolutely preposterous!" the Ootori argued. "Your stock is not undervalued enough for this kind of margin." The loss that this would incur made his head spin with anxiety.
"You need to spend money to make money," Kiyoko stood firm in her numbers. "This is a great opportunity to prove your worth, Kyouya."
He scowled at her. "This is ridiculous." Absolute nonsense.
"If you pay at the premium and make it worth that money – think of what you could do with the rest of your family's wealth. The company would clearly be in your hands after this stint."
"If only it were so easy," Kyouya muttered. "I would rather marry you." He would get down on one knee. He would go out to buy a ring today. Pear shaped diamond, flanked by smaller diamonds on a white gold band. Exactly as she asked for. All she needed was to say yes. Why did this woman make things so difficult?
"At the cost of possibly never having ultimate control?" Kiyoko was quick to counter. "The only way to foot your power is to get the right people on the board."
"So, you," Kyouya offered up. "Isn't that the point of marrying you? I would be on the board, replacing your grandmother, as promised. The shares would be something that we would both own."
"We are one against ten," Kiyoko scoffed. "That gives you nothing. Why not have it all? You can curate your own board," she was trying to offer him the world. Or at least, the world of whatever the Hibayashis owned. It wasn't hers to offer but she would make it so.
He took a sharp inhale. "I'd have to talk with the President," Kyouya massaged his temples. How could she be the source of so many of his headaches? There would be no way he would say yes to this, anyhow. It would be silly to even float this idea across his father. Kyouya would lose credibility as even a possible candidate as the one sole heir.
Kiyoko cackled. "Nice try," she rolled her eyes. Kiyoko knew that the phrase meant a polite no. "The only way you can pull this off is to keep it under the wraps. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission," she ordered.
"There is no way we could do this without him knowing," the youngest Ootori was running low on patience. "That is no small sum you're asking for."
"Here are the current valuations," Kiyoko pulled up another slide, buried in the appendix of what she had taken as reference from previous shareholder meetings.
"Those are rather generous valuations," the Ootori was a businessman through and through. He called bullshit when he saw it.
"Whatever," she waved off. She was trying to sell him the company, she had to make it look valuable to some degree. "Give or take 5%."
"Definitely take it down 5-7%," he interjected. Kiyoko shot him a glare so he would shut up.
"This," she pulled up the Ootori Corporation's finances on a slide, a breakdown of what they currently owned. She had scoured this ages ago, doing her own research of why they were even remotely interested in the Hibayashis in the first place. "Where you're lacking is conveniently where we have built a steady foothold on psychiatric care. We both knew this."
"Steady but slow," Kyouya pointed out. "The profit margins would barely keep our board happy over the past two decades." Luckily for the Hibayashis, the rich and famous grew increasingly in their addictions to substances, mental illnesses (partly made famous by their own family history), and the general need for a hush-hush psychiatric facility over the past decade.
"Yes, precisely," Kiyoko nodded. "You could increase these numbers. A whole different arm of the industry with a blank slate for you to call the shots in. The responsibility would all be yours, removing the defacto CEO of my father, and then replacing you as the head of this entire subsidiary and then some." It made perfect sense, the chess pieces moved according to her plan so long as their opponents would play the game they orchestrated.
"And then some?" he raised an eyebrow. The Ootori had to admit that Kiyoko egged him on in curiosity.
"Expand this niche psychiatric care for the rich to the commoners for better accessibility, partnering with governments, building out a whole insurance arm based on this new model or pharmaceutical networks…" Kiyoko listed off. She had briefly told him these ideas before, shyly just thinking about what could be done. But now, she genuinely believed that if it could be anyone to bring these scalable projects to life, it had to be him. "There is so much you can do to make this a household name."
Kyouya sat back in his chair and stared at the empty ceramic cup. It was a nonsensical proposal that somehow made its way full circle to begin seeming realistic.
"Why not you?" There was really no better fit. She understood this space more than she let on.
"What?" she answered, dumbly. Kiyoko was waiting for him to talk about profit margins, about further strategies for acquisition, about all the numbers – just not her. She had almost any kind of slide in the appendix for questions to do about the corporation.
"You have a keen sense for business. Why not do this yourself? You're the heiress." The subtext being, you have no other job. Kyouya did not think to take it in the direction she did, mostly because he was already drowning in the predetermined project milestones that his family's business had entrenched themselves in. The Ootori was already busy as is.
"I don't care for it," Kiyoko simply said. "This is your dream, not mine."
"So what is your dream?"
The Hibayashi had no answer. "To be determined," she settled. "But for now, this is what we're focused on. Help me help you," she sent him the proposal to his email address in front of him, fingers gliding over the glass with ease.
"Get your team on this. We have 8 weeks until the next quarter and the shareholder meeting is imminent."
Kyouya sifted through her slide deck over and over throughout the morning. Was he actually considering this? He had 3 reports to review by the end of the day and instead he was going through the bare bones of a presentation.
He had to give her more credit than that - her numbers were inflated, sure, but as were any business proposals. She was selling him a product and damn was she good at it.
She dropped him off at the underground garage a couple hours earlier, promising to pick him up by 5. Her goodbye was a strong grip on his arm with her clawed fingers, reminding him that she needed final numbers by the end of the day from his finance team.
He could only promise her that he would think about it. She let him go with a warning that time was ticking, as expected of a shrewd businesswoman.
You don't trust me? Her voice mocked him.
She made it difficult for him to trust her, especially at how flighty her behaviour proved to be. But whether he liked it or not, she made an excellent point. This would be the opportunity to prove himself worthy without a medical degree like his brothers. It was an honourable privilege to treat the patients of their hospitals and to work from the ground up but ultimately, this was a business to be run, not an individual hospital. If he wanted to ensure the legacy of the Ootori group, this would be it.
She texted him sometime past noon, the usual hour where most people took their lunch breaks. The Ootori was still pouring over the probability of Kiyoko's proposal coming to fruition.
Reworked the numbers. Amendment: push to a minimum of 24% - bring it back to your team, if you haven't already.
A 1% increase was aggressive, moving up the deal of millions. Was she just egging him on, mocking him for his hesitation? Kiyoko was getting into his head, implanting herself deep into his skin, and reminding him every second she got. For a while he was able to deal with her on a personal scale but she came in and made sure to smear herself all across his business too.
Time was ticking and it seemed like as far as the hours went by, Kiyoko would continue to tip the scale in the Hibayashi's favour until he stopped her.
No, he texted back.
New slide deck sent. Can you get an offer on paper within the next two business days?
Kyouya clicked on the attachment that pinged in his inbox. This woman pushed the envelope even further, this time with the bells and whistles of a beautifully formatted slide deck - the sort that you would find at a shareholder's meeting compiled by the top analyst, taking the minimum of a quarter to pull together.
Please, she added and then nothing else. Another hour passed before Kyouya finally bit the bullet. He had consumed enough of the information to present it to his team.
"Set up a meeting with our general counsel and the finance teams immediately," he told his secretary.
The meeting ran far past 5. He was half-expecting her to text for an update by the time he came out of the conference room, but instead he marched through his own office and ignored what his secretary had to say.
It was evident as soon as he walked through the doors of his own office of what his secretary had been trying to tell him. Kiyoko was leaning against his leather chair, staring at the large 3 panelled wave painting she sold him, her expression inexplicable.
"How the hell did you get in?"
"I just told your secretary to let me in," Kiyoko snapped out of her trance and responded with little hesitation. It helped that she had the underground garage pass from his car to let her into the building. Bypassing the lobby security was an easy maneuver.
"Told or threatened?" Kyouya lowered his voice and made sure to shut the door behind him. He knew her well enough that Kiyoko had some kind of bewitching spell on strangers. He too, fell for it.
"I was very polite," she reassured, tapping her nails against her keyboard. She brought her own laptop and was working on god knew what.
"So," she leaned back in his chair comfortably, unaffected by his irritance. "How did it go?" She sounded like a mother asking their child how their school day went.
"How did what go?" Kyouya locked his jaw, refusing to give away any more information than he needed to. For what it was worth, Kiyoko was on the other side of the table in terms of negotiating, the enemy, if you will. They needed to decide on a fair price and Kiyoko's drafted proposal was far out of reach in terms of fair.
"Your secretary told me about your last-minute meeting with legal," she smiled mischievously. "I take it that you find my proposal quite… appealing?"
He crossed his arms. "We haven't agreed to it."
"Ah," Kiyoko nodded slowly. It was a promising step. It was definitely in discussion. Her goal of the day had been achieved. Now she could only pray for the domino effect to follow.
"Well, I need an offer to take to the board, sooner rather than later. It's a world tour of sorts, finding the old crooks that will do anything for an excellent pay day," she urged. "I take it that you're veering away from the starting point of 24% with your counsel?"
"24% could never be possible," Kyouya stood firm. "And besides, even if this offer were to take place - we need to do months of due diligence with access to your company's finances and all. "
"Of course," Kiyoko agreed. "Be my guest." She had scratched the surface of it all on her own. The blip of embezzlement would be no easy hurdle but it worked in her favour to sway the board. Unstable leadership coupled with an offer to sell and be done with the company once and for all? It was music to their ears.
"If your embezzling allegations are true…" Kyouya made sure to keep his voice down. He didn't explicitly tell his entire team about it, not without official documentation to follow the trail but it was certainly touched upon as a strategy to acquire at a much lower price than what Kiyoko had spat out.
"I assure you that the board would be eager to replace the current leadership."
"But 24% is not possible, even without the current CEO in leadership."
Kiyoko was still unfazed as he kept knocking down her initial terms. "Well then, Ootori-san," she said as she shut her sleek metal laptop closed. "You better make it possible."
"How?" Kyouya pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is not a simple one and done deal, Kiyoko."
"Nothing good comes easy," she brushed him off. Kiyoko stood from his desk and glanced over his shoulder to the end of the room. "Nice piece of art, huh?" she smiled at the 6 foot painted waves even though her heart ached when she first saw it. How could mere shades of blue make her want to curl up into a ball and cry for hours? She was swept away by the grandeur of it all, as though she could swim in the painting herself. Floating away with her mind empty for hours at a time. The beauty of art was the emotion it evoked - not the analysis that came with it. "Where did you get it from?"
"I can't do this right now," he grumbled, refusing to play along.
"Yes, because you're cranky and hungry, aren't you?"
He was and he was annoyed that she knew his mood had been affected by something so silly like hunger.
She gestured for him to follow her, walking past him and even going as far to send his secretary home for the day, thanking them for their hard work. The audacity of this woman knew no bounds and somehow, the Ootori let her step all over him. The only person in the world who could even remotely control him was always her. His secretary knew better than to gossip about it.
Kiyoko coolly took in the silence throughout the elevator ride with grace while he fumed in the opposite corner, his head still spinning with numbers that his analysts had proposed. With Kiyoko holding onto the keys for the entire day, she naturally took the driver's seat, meandering around him when the Ootori tried to drive.
He relented with a huff and crossed his arms. When he realized that she was not taking the freeway back to her house, he sat up and paid attention to where they were going. Kiyoko parked on what felt like a secluded street after about fifteen minutes of driving and urged him to get out of the vehicle quickly. They walked into an unassuming building amongst all the other small offices and weaved through an alleyway down to a basement.
"Is this where I get murdered?"
"No," Kiyoko laughed. "You are much more valuable alive than dead for now. This is where you'll have one of the best meals of your life," she told him.
Kyouya was doubtful. One of the best meals of his life was quite frankly the porridge she made him the night before and she would never know about it. The hostess greeted Kiyoko with a warm smile, recognizing her immediately and led the pair to their booth. The whole restaurant had some kind of minimalist Scandinavian vibe with dimmed lights and light oak finishes. Water was served immediately and menus were provided to the table with a very brief explanation.
"Do you dine here often?" Kyouya took note of how all the staff members had given her a small nod or bow of acknowledgement.
"I own this place."
"What?" Kyouya wondered when she would ever stop revealing these bombshell truths to him.
"Okay, fine, I own a part of it," she corrected herself. "Our family chef's protégé needed an investor many years ago. The whole thing introduced me to a lot of very talented people in the food industry. Call me a silent investor of sorts," she explained.
Kyouya knew she owned restaurants but not this one in particular. "And the ROI?"
"Manageable," Kiyoko smiled. "Can't reveal my trade secrets," she winked. The trade secret was that it was just a passion project, not a money making scheme. All of the restaurants she invested in were like that. Someone loved something so much that they needed the capital. The drive to succeed gave Kiyoko more faith than a projection of numbers. It was a terrible way of doing business, really. But there was a surprising amount of joy in making others happy, to see them in their element, for people that were deserving of it.
"Remind me, how many other restaurants are you an investor in?"
"Hm, just a handful," she vaguely answered. Kiyoko glanced at the menu even though she knew exactly what they were serving. Kiyoko glanced at the wine pairing, nodding in approval. The restaurant was still young, barely into the second year of opening, and quite frankly no profit had been churned yet. Restaurants were always a risky investment but Kiyoko had faith in the talent.
She made eye contact with the server and gave them a nod and a few hand gestures that codified something that Kyouya had no clue about.
"What is that? Sign language?" Kyouya watched in fascination.
"Yes."
"You can sign?" he blinked in confusion. "How?"
Kiyoko forgot that it was uncommon even though it was second nature to her. She signed because she didn't want to flag the server down. The restaurant was already quiet enough, save for some murmurings from other diners. Kiyoko recognized the specific server as someone who had said they were fluent in JSL as a special skill. She had a helping hand in hiring the front of house when the restaurant was opening.
"Haru," she answered simply. "He was non-verbal in the beginning of my life. I learned to sign before I was able to speak. It got to a point where they thought I was probably non-verbal too."
The Ootori could only stare in astonishment. There was so much he didn't know.
"The entire Hibayashi estate staff can sign too," Kiyoko added. "It was part of their training." Kiyoko watched as the Ootori processed the new information and gently called for his attention with a wave.
"Watch," She made a chopping motion using her right hand as though her left wrist was being cut off with the palm up. She did it again. "This is thank you. You can sign it when he comes around."
Soon enough, the server came around with their amuse bouche and the wine pairing poured solely for the Ootori. Kyouya gestured quietly, eliciting a smile from the server who nodded in acknowledgement at the gratitude.
"You didn't teach me something awful, did you?" Kyouya nearly forgot that the woman was a prankster of sorts. Perhaps that was why she got along so well with the darn Twins. She was fun in that she was unpredictable, but terrifying all the same. All his friends found her to be lovely, hardly anyone could see what he really saw of her.
"I mean, I could," Kiyoko smirked after chewing through her amuse bouche of caviar which sat above a smoked trout dip with a housemade black sesame cracker. She washed it down with her water instead of the wine pairing she ordered for only the Ootori.
She signed more water please to the server from across the room but told the Ootori it meant, "Fuck me." He choked on his wine, turning heads across the room. The staff immediately came around to make sure the guest was alright, pouring him more water as requested and patting him on the back.
"I'm fine," he reassured as he glared at the woman across the table. Kiyoko held in her laughter until the kerfuffle died down.
"You can't do that," Kyouya growled at how much fun she was having. The Ootori was not made to be embarrassed like this.
"I can do whatever I want," she playfully retorted, batting her eyelashes at him with her lips parted. The gloss from her lipstick distracted him to no end, nearly forgetting the fact that she nearly caused him to die from wine going up his nose.
"I'm just trying to do good business," she innocently told him. "Seducing my business partner is just part of the charm, no?
Kiyoko watched as his eyes dipped down to her neck and down to her breasts that were very much hidden away by her mock-neck long-sleeved dress. He remembered how her legs were bare with that high slit he very nearly salivated over in the morning. Kyouya imagined how his hands would feel running along her legs, to her thighs, and along her hips. He wanted to yank away any fabric that she had on, everywhere. His mind trailed to the actual thought of tasting her in every way possible, itching to make her fall apart with his fingers and pinning her down with his forearm while she–
The server cut in with their first course after enough time had passed to ensure that the diners were well-adjusted and comfortable. Kyouya gulped down the course within minutes, completely forgetting about his previous trail of thought. On the contrary, Kiyoko took her time in taking apart each layer, tasting the ceviche and the perilla leaf and lime reduction separately before chewing through the whole assortment. She signed from across the room something that Kyouya only narrowed his eyes at.
"It's nothing inappropriate," Kiyoko smirked as she knew exactly what he was thinking. "It was a request to speed up the courses for you. I know you're hungry."
"Do you usually seduce your business partners?" he asked, in suspicion that this was her usual ploy. He knew it wasn't but it didn't help that his mind thought: who else was here before me? Was it just me? Am I special or did she just make me believe that I was?
"No," she shook her head. "My restaurants are wonderful resources for catering for my gallery. Sometimes people will approach me just to dine at them because they're exclusive from word-of-mouth."
"The mouth being you," Kyouya raised an eyebrow.
Kiyoko shrugged, not even denying it. "It's good for business. And besides, you like my mouth," slowly raised her glass to her lips, knowing that he was looking at her rosy pillow lips, somehow never losing their shine after each course. Kiyoko forgot how much she enjoyed this, poking fun at the Ootori and watching him squirm.
"Are your other restaurants like this one?" he looked around the fine dining establishment instead of Kiyoko, knowing that if he watched her flirt, he'd end up losing his own composure. Paying more close attention, he could almost see the touches of Kiyoko across the space. It basically looked like an extension of her cabin up in the mountains - the simplicity of the interior design forced the diner to focus on the food in front of them.
"No," Kiyoko shook her head. "I allow space for the chef to execute their creative vision. If they want to consult me, I am certainly willing."
"This looks like your cabin," he pointed out.
"It's the same architect," Kiyoko wondered what other details he picked up about her. Kyouya never took for granted the way he was allowed to know her in every aspect.
Kyouya squinted his eyes. "How far does your network reach?" From artists, to chefs, to architects, who else did she have in her circle?
"Depends what you need," she shrugged. "Weapons? Natural gas? Drugs? Within legal means, of course," Kiyoko added with a smile. She could have sworn they had a similar conversation many months ago. Maybe he did not believe her at the time but now he did.
"Interesting," Kyouya murmured. Her skillset was unique and spanned farther than he thought. Maybe that was why he fell in love with her. There was always something new with Kiyoko, something far beyond what he could have ever thought about in his little box of rules he had grown sheltered in. She was the epitome of what wealth set you up for, the privilege of being in the creative space whether it was in food or art and beyond.
The next few courses came in succession, within minutes of each other as requested by Kiyoko. By the sixth course, Kyouya had slowed down his pace and actually managed to pick apart each layer of food - the perfectly grilled geoduck in a consomme of foraged mushrooms and bamboo that had his taste buds dancing in a festival of umami.
"This is delicious," he told her, scooping up every single drop on the plate. He had done so earlier with every course but this one made him want to savour every little bit.
"Of course," Kiyoko was happy to hear it. Enough that she signed out the word delicious for him to follow, adjusting his fingers along the way. Her gentle touch had his stomach churning for no good reason other than the fact that he was still nervous around her. Somehow, he was never able to impress her and it was always the other way around.
Kiyoko let the food do the talking for her, assisted by the staff that meticulously explained each dish for Kyouya. She happily indulged in any conversation, making sure to pass the right set of compliments to the back of the house.
"Is this what you would like to be doing?" he asked.
"This?" she gestured to her plate. "Eating professionally?" Kiyoko chuckled.
"A serial restaurateur?"
She shook her head. "I'm not a chef, just a well-trained knife wielder that won't starve when left alone." And besides, the restaurant business did not make money fast enough. Kiyoko learned that the hard way when she was especially strapped for cash, only a week ago. When they said long-term investment, they really did mean long term.
"And the art gallery?"
"I visited Nami today," she told him. It was definitely the largest errand she had to make, driving all the way across the city and then spending hours going over the decisions that Nami felt needed a second opinion. Kiyoko made sure to thank Nami generously, even going as far as to offer the gallery to her entirely. Nami had to think about it to which Kiyoko gladly gave the time for.
"There is a new exhibit next week. I plan on inviting some of the board members over for the showings."
Kyouya raised an eyebrow at her. "And you think you can sell them on the deal?"
"Well," Kiyoko mirrored the same expression as him with a cocked eyebrow and suspicion plastered over their face. "I would appreciate a solid offer from you." They were on opposite sides of the table doing business. She would continue to push until there was a breakthrough, meaning an actual contract.
"Not by next week," the Ootori stood firm. His team was going to be working around the clock for this and good work was never done under a time crunch like hers. On top of that, he had everyone sign an additional non-disclosure document to keep things under the wrap.
"Fine," she relented. She had other plans of quietly whispering the rumours of embezzlement to lay down the foundation of her entire scheme. Kiyoko still had time. "But we're doing this, yes?"
"We're doing this," he echoed as confirmation. He wondered what his former self would think of how fast he crumbled under the whims of this woman. A hostile takeover by leveraging his own company's worth built on a generation of wealth?
She tipped her glass of water to him as a quiet cheers. "Excellent," she smirked. "So why do you look so petrified?"
"I don't look petrified," Kyouya shot back, refusing to give more thought to the undertaking of this plan. He was anxious because he could not guarantee the odds of this working.
"I can feel your anxiety seeping across the table," Kiyoko commented at more ease than Kyouya found appropriate. "Relax, Ootori-san. I'll do everything in my power for this to play out in your favour."
"Our," he corrected. "Our favour."
"Sure," she agreed amiably.
"But how?"
"My back is against the wall, Ootori-san," Kiyoko answered. "You don't think I know it?"
"You act like my back is against the wall."
"The metaphorical wall is your succession. You're stuck. This is the ascension you were always waiting to demonstrate. My metaphorical wall is escaping this mayhem of a family entwined in a surplus of wealth that will do none of us any good. I need your capital. You need my connections."
He tried his best to keep his expression neutral but Kiyoko could see the worry plastered all over his face. He was apprehensive. To be fair, the Ootori probably had more to lose than she did. If all else fails, Kiyoko would continue life as per the status quo. Kyouya however, would likely shoot himself in the foot at any chance of becoming the sole owner of his zaibatsu. Kiyoko was well aware that there was no other option but to succeed.
"What can I do to ease your worries?" Kiyoko put her water glass down and picked at the last main course of the meal.
"There is nothing you can say," Kyouya sighed, cutting away at the sole. The fish fell apart immediately, coated in a beautiful sheen of butter.
"I didn't ask for what I could say," she crossed her arms. "What I could do," she told him. Actionable items were the benchmark of progress, not empty promises. Kiyoko needed Kyouya on her side and she could not afford him having a change of heart.
The Ootori took a bite of the food and nearly melted at how the fish tasted. It came as a lovely distraction to the conversation they were having. He cleaned off his plate before continuing their conversation, washing it down with now his third glass of wine.
"You sleuth around like an operative," Kyouya told her. "It's worrisome to do business with you because I have no insight into what you're planning. Half the time I think you're going to end up shivving me in an alley because you are unpredictable."
Kiyoko could only nod in agreement, chuckling at his joke even though they both knew she would and could stab anyone if it ever came down to it. Figuratively and literally.
"I'm a one-woman operation. Save for Nami," she added. "I never had the need to report to anyone and I will not start doing so." The Ootori frowned, nearly interjecting to clarify that he never wanted her to report to anyone, or himself. This was a partnership. He needed to be treated like one.
"But I hear you," she continued. "Board members will fall into place with the quarterly meeting when they call for a change in leadership because of some very lovely rumours that will be whispered into the ears of many."
"Rumours can be considered groundless. Whispers will reach your father in no time to do damage control before we can get to it."
"Not when the SESC is involved," Kiyoko answered his concern. "They'll be tipped off in time to build their case."
"A case you have already built for them?"
"Yes, of course," Kiyoko rolled her eyes. "And hopefully by then, you and your team will have a reasonable offer to place on the table. The timing will be excellent as the company will be financially vulnerable."
Dessert was being served in the midst of their conversation as the servers silently meandered around the diners and placed the course in front of them.
"At a fair discount, then?"
Kiyoko scowled. "Well, you would need to make it appealing enough to have the board jump at it during a vote. The stocks will likely tank due to the instability and bad PR but that doesn't mean you have to low ball us."
"I thought there was no us," Kyouya pointed out. "One woman operation and all."
He was not wrong. Whether she liked it or not, she had some kind of subconscious attachment to the institution. She deflected, as she always had.
"Don't push it," she warned. "Scapeling the company would only backfire on you. You need to move quickly. Letting the deal drag on will only tire out the board and you will lose momentum." She scraped around her freeze dried yuzu that had been previously sprinkled over a lemon panna cotta, sat on top of a wonderful white chocolate ganache. The server did not have the heart to interrupt them but knew that the guest in particular had been hungry so they kept the courses flowing with little downtime in between.
Kyouya let go of the topic, preferring to enjoy the silky texture of the pudding that melted on his tongue. The flavours were beautifully balanced. Not too sweet with just enough brightness of the citrus. A fantastic end to their courses.
Kiyoko finished quicker than the Ootori and signed to the server for the bill. Kyouya watched in curiosity, unable to decipher even a word of this language beyond the one gesture she taught him.
Thank you.
Their dishes were taken away swiftly and they were left to their own devices in silence. As Kyouya waited for the cheque to come to the table, Kiyoko stood instead. Their meal was done after a little more than an hour. It went by so quickly, Kyouya hardly felt like he had sat down for enough time to digest. Instead, he turned his attention to her as her long dress hugged her hips with the fabric falling swiftly to ankles, her high heels elongating her figure even further.
"Did you already pay?" Kyouya followed her lead and also stood from the table. If he hadn't, he would have been left behind without a second thought. He learned to keep up with the Hibayashi over time. She shook her head in response.
"There is no cheque," Kiyoko waved off. The servers bowed deeply to Kiyoko during her graceful exit with the Ootori trailing behind. This was her kingdom that she ruled and he was nothing but a guest. "I don't have time to barter with them tonight," she quietly explained after they were officially out of the building. "Do you want me to drop you off at home?"
"Home?" he repeated, like the word was foreign for anything but the home she owned. The Ootori estate hadn't crossed his mind in weeks since he made himself comfortable at her place. If she was dropping him there, that would imply, "You're just going to take my car?"
Kiyoko rolled her eyes. "I was under the assumption that you had at least one other vehicle."
The Ootori scoffed. "I do not. I also do not recall allowing you to use my car for an extended period of time."
"Quite surprising given your ego," Kiyoko retorted. Men and their cars. They never stop at just one. She unlocked the car and took the driver's seat as though the car was hers. It took her no time to adjust to the vehicle. After all, they had the exact same car before hers was completely annihilated.
She navigated the streets with ease with her hand over the stick shift like it was second nature. Kiyoko had gotten back into the swing of things, zooming across the city and attending appointments and meetings like she always had with a newfound motivation to succeed. Her focus was not the Ootori, it was larger than them both combined. It dictated their futures. A part of him wanted to reach out to her, enclose her fingers under his palm because more likely than not, her fingers were frigidly cold. He ached for her and missed her immensely. She was in front of him, but her mind was elsewhere.
He stopped himself and acknowledged the barrier she had built. They were business partners, not lovers. It felt wrong to deter her focus from their shared goal. This was what he had originally intended for anyway, a transactional relationship. Why did he not realize that it would feel so cold and sterile? Devoid of the chemistry that they built, now speaking only about numbers and strategy over a (delightfully decadent) meal.
"Out with it," she demanded. Kiyoko had this uncanny ability to detect any kind of emotional fluctuation. He wondered how she was able to do that. If it was learned or innate, and the mere fact that this was what she built her business on took her farther than anyone could have imagined.
"What?"
"You want to say something, so say it. I'm not going to read your mind," Kiyoko snapped. "What's wrong?" she pressed again.
"It just feels like things have shifted between us," he stammered out. He did not know how else to describe it but a shift.
"What shift?" she asked, her tone neutral.
"I don't know," he sighed. "I can't even hold your hand without thinking you're going to pull away. You're like a feral cat."
"A feral cat? Well I suppose I've been called worse," Kiyoko muttered. "Are you finally catching up to the rest of the world about how psychotic we really are?"
"That's a poor facade and you know it," Kyouya was tired of it. "You hide behind the psychosis as an excuse. I feel like I'm always up against a wall."
"I could be up against a wall," Kiyoko joked. It was not taken very well as the Ootori just glared at her in silence. "Fine," she relented. "The shift, or whatever," Kiyoko shook her head. "It wasn't intentional. I just… I need to focus. I want this to work."
"And then what?" he wondered. "At the slim chance of this turning out the way you want. You walk away from this and then what's next?"
"Slim chance?" Kiyoko frowned. "It's not over until it's over."
"What will you do?
She kept her sight on the road. The act of driving after many months had been more soothing than she thought it would be. Kiyoko finally felt normal for the first time in a long time. She did not want to think about what was next, especially after quitting her little stint at the izakaya in the resort village. She would cross that bridge when she got there.
"I don't know," Kiyoko answered truthfully. Her passive income was not quite enough to sustain her lifestyle. "I just want to get through this. I spent too much time being… catatonic." What else was she supposed to call it? She was sleepless and numb for months. Kiyoko had spent months replaying nearly every memory she had of her brother, dreaming about it when she barely slept and day dreaming about it as she was conscious.
"You were grieving," he corrected. "For the record, that is absolutely normal behaviour and I really do not think you're done."
Kiyoko sighed. "I'm not," she admitted. "But the grieving needs to pause. I'm awake and I'm livid. I need to move forward."
"What if it doesn't work, Kiyoko?"
"It has to," she refused to think of any other option. "Call me delusional, if you must. You believed in me when no one else would. What happened, Kyouya?"
Kyouya shook his head. "I do believe in you. I do not believe in the rest of the world falling in place. I cannot predict how things will go." He was afraid that this would break her forever, putting all of her eggs in one basket.
"Well," she shrugged. "I guess we'll just have to rely on luck then." Kiyoko could nearly see him squirm at the thought from the corner of her eye. "Relax, my goodness," she gave him a quick pat on his knee before reverting back to the stick shift. "You're such a stickler for calculated odds. The world does not revolve around some simulated model. Or maybe we're all living a simulation," she rolled her eyes.
The Ootori could only sit back in the passenger seat and looked out the window. He sat in silence for a while, watching the lights pass by. His vision dulled to a comfortable gaze before he could find the words to pinpoint what he was feeling. "This is the biggest risk I've ever taken," he murmured. It was terrifying.
"Can't imagine you've taken many risks," Kiyoko countered lightly. Risk to Kiyoko was second nature. She did not particularly crave for it, she was just surrounded by it as it were.
He narrowed his eyes at her. "You know how much this means to me."
"I do," Kiyoko answered sincerely, her focus was still on the road. "I know what I am asking of you and I cannot do this without you." The car pulled into the driveway and came to a gentle stop. Her blood red nails turned off the ignition in one fell swoop. The whirring of the car died down.
"Kyouya, I promise you," she turned to him. "I will fucking make the world bend for you. I will not lose."
"The world, huh?" he smirked. "You might as well say that you love me."
She rolled her eyes and turned to open the door, refusing to respond to the statement. Kyouya was quick to hold onto her arm, pulling her back towards him. He leaned against the center console, looking into her eyes and inching close enough to inhale her perfume. He could have sworn that one whiff was able to calm his beating heart. She was all he needed, company be damned.
"Don't be scared," Kiyoko quietly murmured. "Trust me," she reassured, with a gentle squeeze on his hand. "I know we can do it." Maybe if she kept saying it out loud, she would believe it too.
He closed his eyes and nodded, doing his best to trust her. She gingerly kissed him on the cheek as another form of reassurance. Cautious as ever, Kiyoko pulled away first. Kyouya was swift enough to cup her face and chased her lips before she could turn away, missing the physical contact that he had been aching for all day. Her shoulders finally slouched into relaxation, letting his weight fall against her, and having him taste her lipstick while inhaling every bit of her he possibly could.
"Are you obsessed with me or something?" she teased, smiling against his mouth. She felt like a teenager. Or, if she had a normal teenage era - she imagined that this would have been what the books and movies had always advertised. He always made her forget about where she stood in the world. He made her his world.
"I've always been obsessed with you," Kyouya growled. It all felt so short. She always gave him just a taste of her, but never all of her. "Don't act like you never knew it."
"I didn't think your obsession would last this long," Kiyoko admitted. "Aren't you bored of all this madness?" She gestured to the thin air, as if to point out the insanity that followed her around.
"Quite the opposite," he scoffed.
"So you like the chaos?" she grinned. Perhaps one does get accustomed after some time.
"As a means to an end," Kyouya sighed. "But never an end with you," he clarified.
"Are you proposing to me?" She meant it as a joke, she always did. She never had time for such fantasies. Kiyoko refused to dwell in something that would only disappoint her.
"I'm quite sure we have discussed proposals in passing," the Ootori rolled his eyes. "You just never accept."
It was her turn to scoff. She reached for the door and smoothly escaped from the Ootori's grip that had loosened, exiting out of the car in one swift motion while grabbing her handbag from the back. He followed in suit, caging her body as he trailed behind her closely. Kiyoko unlocked the door to her home and looked over her shoulder to find the Ootori breathing down her neck quite literally.
"Are you alright?" she asked, flicking the light switch on and putting down her bag at the stoop of her genkan. Kiyoko shifted to take care of her shoes that had been causing havoc on the balls of her feet all day.
"No," he murmured sincerely.
"What's wrong?" Kiyoko was in the midst of pulling off her heels, balancing herself against the wall. She could hear the disappointment in his voice. "Hm?" she tried again when she was met with silence, finally turning to look up at him. The Ootori glowered over her, now that she no longer had the height to fall back upon.
"You keep running," he frowned.
"Running?" she repeated. "What do you mean?" She felt dumb after saying it when he walked her up against the wall, his arms trapping her on both sides. The Ootori was careful to keep his movements slow, his gaze soft, afraid of the walls she would build in a split second.
"Can't I kiss you?" he asked her with such sincerity. "Savour you," he whispered. Kyouya could not keep surviving on the little morsels of her - she always managed to slip out of his grip so quickly like water. She was gone from their bed in the mornings, gone during the day sending nothing more than a few texts throughout the day, and then in the car… it felt like this was the first time in a long time he finally had her. "Please."
He was met with silence. She parted her lips, speechless at the way he begged her with only one word. His eyes darted back and forth, searching for consent. It took all of his willpower to keep still.
"I need you," he tried again. "I've missed you," he whispered sincerely. He missed her more than she would ever know.
Kiyoko pulled him down by the neck and did as told, breaking her own discipline of getting too caught up in him. She let him melt into her body, his weight was more comforting than she had remembered. Kiyoko could still taste the notes of wine on his lips while she inhaled the bergamot notes of his cologne. She felt him claw his way into her waist, his strong grip held her up as he chased her lips with fervor. He only pulled away to bury his face in her neck. Kyouya was addicted to the way she smelled. He wanted to bathe in it.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, words muffled against his hair. The guilt settled into the pit of her stomach. Will she ever be enough for him? He held onto her desperately, hoping she wouldn't push him away.
"No," he pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear that had finally fallen after a long day. "Never be sorry for who you are," he whispered back. "I love you. I've missed you. Let me have you."
She nodded and closed her eyes, blinking away tears that formed for no good reason other than the fact that he was too good to be true. He made her feel whole when she had a lifetime of what felt like a hollow being.
"Okay," she croaked. "You have me. All of me. Forever," she promised. Kiyoko couldn't even form real sentences, hoping that her voice did not crack under the overwhelming wave of emotion. Whole unadulterated emotions that washed over her.
"Forever?" he repeated, feeling triumphant. "You promise?"
"Yes, yes, yes," she nodded. She was terrified of the thought of it, but sure that if it was anybody who she trusted more than anything - it had to be him. It was always him.