Chapter 32
Kiyoko often woke by dawn, never requiring an alarm. But today, she woke to the most offensive siren beneath the pillow of a man who snored through it entirely. Kiyoko wondered how the Ootori could possibly sleep through an alarm that was loud enough to wake the entire house. She shoved his shoulder in annoyance and he did not budge. His limp arm had laid over her waist and then later her hips while she got up to turn off the alarm.
"Get up you oaf," Kiyoko groaned.
He only grunted in response, trapping her body closer to him. Kyouya instinctively buried his face into her stomach, using it as a pillow for his cheek. She sighed in annoyance and shoved him again, this time with as much force as she could muster so he could roll over to the other side where he belonged.
"Don't you have work?"
He snored, oblivious to her irritancy. Kiyoko got up with a bit of a struggle, knowing that she would be unable to fall back asleep after being awakened. Kiyoko had a new found amount of energy, a foreign feeling having slept for so long without interruption.
She got ready for the day as she usually would, letting her freshly washed skin sink in with all the care. As she patiently patted in her toner, she wondered if this was the life he imagined for them. A simple life as husband and wife, happy as a clam without any bother in the world. Kiyoko suddenly felt directionless. Was this the end? Just a happy ending?
Kiyoko had never thought this far. Each time they were together, she never let the feeling linger into a reality. She never wanted to place her finger on the feeling either. Happiness? It felt like a scam. Her loneliness never festered into a sadness, it was accepted just as a way of life. Kiyoko tried her best not to let the warmth of his body beside her every night become a habit. Refused to think of what the Ootori must have felt.
Kyouya ended up slinking around the entrance to her closet as she picked out the right outfit for the day. The cold side of the bed was what woke him up. Kiyoko had taken her time finding the right accessories for the day, not seeing the man who had finally woken from his slumber.
"Are those snakes?"
Kiyoko jumped in shock, dropping the earrings. They were hoop earrings that looped around the lobe but with a snake head detail, adorned with diamonds that could hardly be seen unless you were close enough. "What the fuck?" she yelled out, nearly throwing a shoe at him.
"Is that how it feels?" he chuckled lowly. "A taste of your own medicine?" Giving people a good scare. Kyouya could see how this was fun.
"Now you're awake?" Kiyoko snarled, calming herself down with a deep breath. She gathered herself again and scowled at the man. "You're going to be late for work," she snapped.
He came around to pick up the jewelry that had fallen, looking at them in fascination. Kyouya placed them in her palm that she held out, but not without pulling her closer by grabbing her by the waist.
"Good morning my love," he smiled at her, his eyes crinkling despite her frown. She softened, taking count of each fold. The sight never seemed to get old for her and when he placed a strand of her hair behind her ear she shifted her weight against his hands, smiling like a cat beneath a beam of sunlight.
He loved that he earned her affection like this, kissing her temple as an extension of his greeting.
"Coffee?" she offered, now placated by the Ootori. The word was music to his ears. "Be down in ten minutes?"
Kyouya nodded in agreement and let her go. Kiyoko made sure to shuffle into her clothes away from the Ootori knowing how distracted he could get, like a dog with a bone or a ball. Even he had to admit that they were running on a bit of a time crunch if he wanted to show up at his office at his usual time. He brushed his teeth without any argument and slid into his usual office attire, plucked from the corner of her walk-in closet that he had made his own.
He found her pulling her hair up in a French bun, dressed in a long skirt and a cropped cashmere pullover. She was stunning, even in the simplest outfit. A snake bangle on her wrist alongside the smooth band of the snake chain necklace closed off the subtle details of her earrings. Kiyoko turned around to find the Ootori staring at her, now with his glasses and an outfit ready for work.
"What?" she asked when she noticed him.
He shook his head. "Nothing." Kyouya could not describe how much he just enjoyed being in her presence. How much he could look at her for the rest of his life and just be content. Was this what it was like to be hopelessly in love? Kyouya realized that mocking Tamaki about his behaviour was rather preemptive.
Kiyoko handed him the mug with his much needed coffee with a question.
"Are you good at golf?"
The Ootori perched up his glasses. "Tamaki and I had a phase where we would go every weekend." The blonde had eventually tapered off of the sport with wedding planning and all. The Twins found the sport to be old-fashioned, preferring to make their business deals in other venues. Mori and Honey would only come around to sit in the club to eat sweets.
"How good are you at talking to old people?" Kiyoko rephrased. Golf had always been the sport of business with the elder generation.
"Which old people?" Kyouya raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
Kiyoko took a sip from her own cup and pulled up a schedule. It was packed, of course. She ran the names of people in her notes and flipped her phone over to him to gaze over.
"This is the golf course that some of the board members frequent. I think it would be good for you to show face."
"For what?"
Kiyoko blinked at him. "As the incoming CEO, of course," she spelled it out for him. She had plans brewing in her brain since yesterday.
"Today? On a weekday?" He had to check what meetings he had but it was likely booked from 10 to 4. "Kiyoko, this is rather last minute."
"8 weeks is not a lot of time, darling," Kiyoko pointed out, unamused by the excuse. "It's fine. You aren't ready anyway."
Kyouya took offense to that. He could easily charm a group of people if he needed to. It was his job. "What do you mean by that?"
"No deal on the table," Kiyoko pointed out simply. Money was more of an incentive than just a mere idea or rumour. "The sooner, the better, Ootori-san. They golf regularly so missing one session won't hurt. But I can only go around to plant a seed. That is as far as my influence goes, anyway."
Kyouya stared at the blocks of time sectioned off. "What are you doing today?"
"Not golfing," Kiyoko muttered. "But I'll be casually dropping by the club to check upon someone close to Iwashi-san. Nami and I are opening up the exhibit soon so I will have to do my rounds of invites." Iwashi was on the board of the Hibayashi group, Kyouya remembered. He squinted further down her calendar to see the afternoon blocked off.
"Why is the spa on your calendar?" It was in Ginza and he recognized the name because Fuyumi liked to go there.
"Can't a woman relax?" Kiyoko crossed her arms evasively.
Kyouya was unconvinced. He sipped on his espresso instead, waiting for the woman to explain.
"Fine," she sighed. "Misaki apparently frequents the spa."
"Misaki?"
"You know, the woman my father knocked up, my potential stepmother, maybe a murder suspect?" Kiyoko explained monotonously. "I have to figure out that lead. I'd been avoiding it for months. Namely because my brother died but mostly because I didn't want to think about the prospect of her joining the family."
"And her motive to kill would be…?"
"Getting rid of the competition to inheritance," Kiyoko shrugged. "A mother's love knows no bounds."
"That seems extreme." Even without inheritance, the life Misaki would live would be comfortable. Especially given the fact that she was frequenting a spa that the elite were going to. "Your father could leave his wealth to the child instead. Would that not be enough?"
"There is always more to be had," Kiyoko countered.
Kyouya tilted his head at her in confusion, trying to put together the pieces. "How many times has someone tried to kill you?"
"Well," Kiyoko rolled her eyes back to think about whether this was exactly the type of topic they would delve into on a morning of a work day. But what was the harm in telling him anyway? The Ootori already knew about Haru. "At least once?" she counted.
"Our mother," Kiyoko paused, taking in the expression on his face. She wondered if it was too late to stop. But the Ootori sat still, enraptured by the story. "Or who I thought was my mother," she corrected. "The one who died because she overdosed. The events leading up to it are blurry except for one."
Kyouya nodded, knowing the rumours that had floated around in their community. He remembered when she made the effort to point out the room that she died in at the Hibayashi estate in an attempt to scare him off. Morbid as she was, Kyouya had expected the behaviour from Kiyoko. She leaned into the dark and prided herself in it.
"Haru has a scar on his left palm," she explained as she held up her hand, tracing the ghost of where it would have been. It was nothing more than what looked like a gnarly cat scratch after all these years of forcibly moisturizing his calloused hands. Haru hated the feeling of lotion on his hands but Kiyoko would hold onto them until it would sink in.
"It's from pulling a knife away from his mother who tried to kill me. She said she wanted me dead. I didn't know why at the time. I only remember the fear running through my veins. The paralysis of watching the blood flow everywhere. We never really talked about it as siblings. It wasn't something either of us wanted to revisit, anyway. I had to be no more than five."
"So yes, at least once - someone has tried to kill me," she summarized, shrugging at the memory as though it was just a nuisance. "I took Haru's place on the family registry because he was deemed a disgrace. I was the product of a man who cheated on her with her sister. Why wouldn't you want me dead?" Kiyoko muttered. "Asami probably fell into her own sinkhole of guilt and anger and lashed out at the family for their wrongdoings. That side of the story is muddy, as are most things. The family tried their best to keep the mess within it and I suppose they all took it literally."
"What does that make you?"
Kiyoko shrugged. "Does it matter? Haru and I managed to survive the best we could. They set us up for success, as my grandmother would say."
"Quite the success story," Kyouya complimented her while raising an eyebrow.
She scoffed. "Don't be daft. Come on now, we'll be late." She grabbed the keys off the kitchen counter with ease and packed her Goyard tote. She placed her tablet and laptop into the respective sleeve, both in the finest leather and top of the line.
He downed the rest of his coffee. Story time was over. Work had to be done.
Kiyoko sipped on her lemon water, awaiting her prey to saunter across the waiting area. There was nothing relaxing about this place - the silence was filled by a track of breathy bamboo flute and quiet murmurings of other women. The white concrete walls were Vervoordt inspired but it was all just so boring. One hour of staring at a wall would do that to you.
Kiyoko sat alone, ears and eyes peeled for Misaki. What was the purpose of all of this anyway? Reconnaissance or just self-inflicted torture? So far she only learned about one cheating husband (typical), a hint of an offshore account of another corporation (slightly more useful), and far too much about the sex life of a middle-aged woman and her plaything (she scrubbed this immediately from memory).
A woman tapped her shoulder, sinking into the plush white robe with a perfectly manicured pink finger. Kiyoko looked up and blinked at the stranger who only smiled down at her. Long brown hair, pointed nose, and eyes that crinkled with radiating warmth.
"Hibayashi-san?"
She nodded stoically, trying her best to go through her mental rolodex of who approached her. Kiyoko analyzed the curvature of the woman's face, the nose looking far too familiar. Was it a client? An associate of the family?
"Ootori-san," she realized. Fuyumi was not one to frequent the galleries though she came as a guest of a few of her clients at an exhibition here and there. She was a socialite and a well-known philanthropist, championing the Ootori hospitals nowadays.
"Pardon my manners," Kiyoko stood immediately to her feet and bowed to the elder Ootori. "Please call me Kiyoko."
"Oh goodness," the female Ootori gently tugged on Kiyoko's elbow so she would stand upright. It was all so unnecessary, though she appreciated the gesture of respect. "Kyouya gave me a call," Fuyumi explained. "Said to keep you company today."
Kiyoko stifled a scoff and tried her best to control her eyes from rolling. "I don't want to impose," she politely declined. "I am sure you have better things to do than to keep me company." The real task was babysitting and Kiyoko would have none of that.
"He said you were looking for someone named Misaki?"
Kiyoko blinked and nodded slowly. How much did Fuyumi know about their longshot of a plan?
"I'm close to the receptionist," Fuyumi explained. She was close with all of the staff members, actually. "You just missed her yesterday. She came in for a prenatal massage complaining of a lot of lower back pain. Seems like her…" she tried to find the right word for Kiyoko's sake.
"My father has been treating her well then," the gallerist finished with a nonchalant shrug. "I suppose there is not much for me here." Kiyoko was not sure why the pregnant woman had the time for any murderous intent - she seemed to be living happily in this little bubble of luxury, as growing a child was enough work. Maybe Misaki was naive too, not realizing that the luxury came from an excessive amount of embezzled funds. Kiyoko felt stupid for wasting an hour, letting her brain run off with fodder that would have lasted another decade of gossip.
She let out a small sigh, her shoulders slouching after being on her toes for so long. Fuyumi patted the girl softly on the back with comfort.
"You look like you could use a massage," Fuyumi offered kindly.
"I'm afraid I don't have time for that," Kiyoko responded with a tired smile, remembering that her usual scowl was not the impression she wanted to make on Kyouya's sister. She could use this time to track down other people on the board, having already made rounds by the country club in the morning. Kiyoko wondered if Haruhi would have been of any use - using her prosecutor ties to someone on the SESC to build a strong case. Kiyoko's brain was already churning with different things to do as soon as she could get out of this god forsaken spa jail.
"Of course you do," the Ootori chuckled. "Your entire afternoon was free according to my little brother. Come along now," Fuyumi offered her hand. "I have booked us a massage and a facial."
"Oh," Kiyoko was taken by surprise. She did not bother to book a treatment - only access to the water facilities was needed for her quest. Kiyoko would have booked a manicure but her nails were still in tip top shape. "I couldn't…"
"Nonsense," she ushered Kiyoko up and into a private room where the masseuses had set up. The lighting was dim with candles which lined the walls. A haze of essential oils wafted through the air. They left the two alone to undress. Kiyoko averted her eyes at how comfortable the Ootori grew with her, stripping down on the other side of the room. Kiyoko followed in suit quickly, tucking herself beneath the sheets without making a fuss.
"I requested the masseuse that Misaki had yesterday," Fuyumi told her casually with her bare back exposed. She tilted her head over to Kiyoko who had gracefully shifted herself into the bed. Small and lithe, Fuyumi noted. She refused to let her mind wander about her little brother's attraction to what she was looking at.
"I'm sure they're all bound by contract to keep the privacy of their clientele," Kiyoko raised an eyebrow. Kiyoko preferred the sleuthing technique over the direct method of asking - it raised more questions and often put a target on your back. Kiyoko enjoyed taking people by surprise.
"Hm," Fuyumi closed her eyes and shrugged. "I suppose you haven't witnessed my charm just yet," she smiled.
A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Fuyumi did not hesitate to dive straight into Misaki, tiptoeing around the prenatal services that the masseuse specialized in.
"I'm not yet pregnant but goodness, Misaki said you were a delight and I had to see for myself."
Kiyoko stayed silent, letting the other masseur work on her knots. Apparently, she was incredibly stiff and being told to relax only made her more irritated, achieving the opposite effect.
"Misaki? Are you friends with her?" the woman responded, working on Fuyumi's arm.
"Ah yes, she's about to be due soon. Wasn't she?" Fuyumi turned her head to ask Kiyoko.
"She's in her last trimester," Kiyoko answered stoically. By rough calculation, anyway. She had no idea how many weeks along she was. She knew very little about the woman by choice.
"She has been coming in more frequently."
"And glowing, isn't she?" Fuyumi gushed.
The masseuse gave a polite smile, not answering the question directly. Both women took note of the hesitation.
"She has been rather withdrawn lately," Fuyumi continued. "I was hoping to catch up with her, as a concerned friend would. Have you noticed anything different about her?"
"Just… very tense," the masseuse could only say so much. "Pregnancy and all."
Kiyoko wondered what the woman could possibly be tense over. Life must have been good - all expenses paid, access to exclusive resorts and spas, and all the materialistic goods you could possibly imagine after being inducted into new money. Was this not the life that Misaki would have dreamed of all her life?
Well, perhaps not quite yet. She had no shares, no name in the family registry. Powerless and dependent on her father's good graces. Uncertainty would probably drive the woman into a whirlpool of anxiety. But anxiety did not equate to murderous intent - that was too far of a jump.
"I would hope that her partner is taking care of her well," Kiyoko spoke of it as casually as she could. The word husband made her skin crawl and there was no way the other masseuse did not feel her entire body clench at the thought of the title. Kiyoko brushed it off as a comment anyone would make when talking about a pregnant woman's well-being. Surely, their partner should be offering their utmost support.
The silence was heard more clearly than anything in the room.
"Is he not?" Kiyoko raised an eyebrow. "Men are always set to disappoint, after all," she settled back down onto the bed with a soft grunt of annoyance as they dug into another difficult knot on her shoulder.
"She used to be so bright. Always so happy. Trips to Bali or Thailand. A pretty new piece of jewelry here and there. Pregnancy seems to have taken a lot out of her," the masseuse sounded rather sad to be talking about just a client.
"Surely, it isn't easy to bring life into the world," Fuyumi agreed. "Husbands don't know any better."
"They should," Kiyoko growled from the other side, realizing that her filter was not present after her neck had been sufficiently kneaded into mush. She inwardly cursed herself. So much for keeping up the pretense of a docile candidate for the Ootoris to tame into their clan. Kiyoko was sure that Fuyumi set this up to lower her guard in the easiest way possible.
Fuyumi let out an amused chuckle instead, surprising Kiyoko on the other end. Kyouya had certainly met his match with her. She knew for a fact that her brother was going to be wrapped around this woman's finger if he wasn't already. The older sister was more excited about the prospect of having someone to spend time with besides her boring brothers and stuffy in-laws.
"You're right," the female Ootori conceded. "I'll make sure my husband sees to it."
Kiyoko's brain churned through the silence as her body relaxed in miniscule amounts.
"What do you do for work?" Kiyoko's masseuse asked out of curiosity. "You should come back for another session - it seems like your body is holding onto a lot of stress." Usually, the person would have been sufficiently relaxed by now but Kiyoko was still stiff as a board.
It took a minute to realize that the question was directed at Kiyoko and not Fuyumi. She had lost herself in her thoughts about what Misaki was up to and where she fit in the grand scheme of things now that her due date was inching closer and she was still a variable. Kiyoko was uneasy about the prospect of it. She was beating herself up for wasting so many months as a catatonic shell of a human being.
Kiyoko cleared her throat. "It is difficult to describe what I do." Gallerist. Restaurateur. Investor. Gambler. Lately, she felt more like a drifter. Or a shit disturber, at the heart of it all.
"Well," they grunted as they dug into her bones. "Whatever it is, it seems like a lot."
Fuyumi sighed, listening into the conversation from the other end of the dimly lit room. "My brother must be a handful, isn't he?"
Kiyoko was unsure if this was a trap set by the sister. What would be the right answer here? The delicate tip toe of finding the right words that would not offend while still being plausible. Kiyoko's body could never seem to catch a break, tensing up at any given moment.
No, your brother doesn't drive me up the wall - both figuratively and literally. Yes, he is a handful when he does not know what a dishwasher is. No, he actually takes a large mental load off of my back on most days with his relentless devotion to me for some unknown reason.
"As am I," Kiyoko responded after a few seconds of pondering. The Ootori was not a source of her stress, as annoying as he may be.
"A match truly made in heaven then," Fuyumi concluded. "Do you think Misaki feels the same way?" A smooth segue to the actual topic at hand.
Kiyoko took a deep breath to stifle a scoff. "About what? The man she is with?" Kiyoko opened her eyes and squinted across the other room to try to read the masseuse's expression. It was hard to tell what they were thinking while they worked on the arm of their client. The darkness did not help. "I don't know," Kiyoko huffed. It was an honest opinion. "I just hope she is happy with the choices she has made."
"Has she spoken much about her… partner?" Kiyoko asked into the direction of Fuyumi, although it was mostly at the masseuse.
"She used to," the masseuse murmured. "Not so much anymore."
Her jaw clenched and her neck stiffened, undoing the work of the person who had kneaded her neck into mush just moments before. Kiyoko would have sworn that the masseuse sighed out of frustration after feeling the way her muscles tensed again.
"What does that mean?" her voice travelled sharply across the room, eyes flickering over to the other side. "Is he hurting her?" she pressed.
"N-no," the woman denied, shaking her head vehemently. "I don't know. I wouldn't know," she corrected.
Fuyumi calmly glazed over the outburst. "We're just concerned," she spoke gently, contrasting against Kiyoko's seething rage. "Is there anything you could tell us?"
"I don't know anything," the stranger responded evenly. "Just little things here and there. I wouldn't want to assume."
"Assume away," Kiyoko offered, pulling the sheet towards her chest and sat upright. She placed her palm up to stop the other masseuse from working on her. Any efforts to get her body to relax was futile anyway.
"I'm not here to speak ill of my client," the other masseuse said.
"You're speaking ill of her partner," Kiyoko smiled deviously. A loophole was always to be found.
"I have already said too much." The masseuse shook their head, clearly afraid of the two women who had somehow trapped her. This whole ordeal could cost her her job.
"There is no need to be afraid," Fuyumi tried to placate the situation that was getting more and more heated by the minute. Kiyoko was far too demanding, too sharp, and too chaotic. "We're just looking out for our friend."
"Respectfully, Ootori-san, friends don't fish."
"Good point," Kiyoko raised an eyebrow, impressed that the woman was able to hold her ground. She knew she was losing the woman's trust by the second and had to grasp onto something. The dim lighting captured the stranger's shoulders relaxing by a fraction.
"Misaki may not be a friend but her… partner or whatever," Kiyoko's hand waved in the air for some kind of magic term that would be found with her hesitation. "He is a headache I am trying to expel."
"Who is he to you?"
Fuyumi shook her head, placing a gentle hand on the woman's arm. "Not important. She is just trying to help Misaki," her voice soft and comforting.
Kiyoko bit her tongue down. Was Fuyumi always so good natured? Misaki was nothing but shrapnel from the impending ticking time bomb. Kiyoko cared little for the woman's well-being. She was a stranger, Kiyoko told herself. But perhaps Fuyumi's more gentle approach was something worth trying seeing as Kiyoko's abrasiveness had gotten her nowhere.
"And why would you?"
Kiyoko crossed her bare arms, eyes narrowing at the woman. If this was any leg she could stand on, it would be this one: "If you suspect that anyone is being abused in any shape or form, we have every reason to try to help."
"How?"
Fuyumi looked to Kiyoko for this one. How could they help? Kiyoko swallowed the bubbling rage that threatened to spew out of her mouth. Somehow, the anger had crawled beneath her skin without her realizing it.
"Gather evidence. Get her somewhere safe. Make sure he never touches her again. If you are really on Misaki's side, you'd seek out ways to help."
"How can I trust you?" This woman was relentless.
Kiyoko narrowed her eyes in curiosity. "Do you see anyone else she can lean on?"
The silence was enough of an answer for Kiyoko to drop it. A massage was not going to help, nor a facial by any means. Leaving felt like the most productive use of her time since she was not getting anywhere with this kind of gossip.
"My deepest apologies for interrupting your session," Kiyoko bowed to the Ootori. "I clearly have overstepped," she glanced over to the masseuses that stood obediently towards the wall, trying to make themselves unseen. Kiyoko gestured for her robe that lay on the chaise. At the very least, the employees were quick to service her departure with tight lips.
"Oh, Kiyoko," Fuyumi shook her head at her motion to leave. "I'm sure we can sort this out. Please stay for me, at least?"
Kiyoko faltered. Somehow staying in this room got more suffocating and her breathing had quickened to a point of hyperventilation. She needed to ground herself again. Why was she panicking? There was no reason to panic, she told herself.
Only that Kiyoko was running out of time, working off of nothing more than a hunch, and trying her best to put in motion a half-assed plan for what now seemed like a silly revenge plot. Her body was talking herself off a ledge. The ledge being this fantasy of somehow taking down a multibillion corporation.
Her robe was delivered to her with a spare sheet that was used as a temporary wall, held up by the employees who respectfully turned away from her so she could slip back into some decency.
Kiyoko stumbled off the massage bed, somehow losing control of her own legs. The world was spinning. What was happening to her? Fuyumi called for some water and privacy.
"Kiyoko? Are you alright?"
Breathe, she told herself. Fucking breathe. She gripped onto the edge of the bed, feeling every fibre of the towel beneath each phalange of her finger. Her feet dug into the soft carpet of the room, feeling every groove of the laminated wood. She was trying her best to return back to reality. Her body had given out for some reason. Why was everything spinning?
"I'm sorry," she huffed. "I don't know what came over me." She opened her eyes, trying again to still herself. The dimly lit room finally came to a halt. The door creaked open with a whole pitcher of the fucking lemon water she was sipping on earlier, alongside a whole tray of tea and even some small snacks.
"Leave us," Fuyumi commanded as she guided Kiyoko to the long chaise to sit properly. "Have you eaten?"
Kiyoko forgot to eat, as usual. But this didn't feel like mere hunger. Something was wrong and it hit her at the most unexpected time.
The elder Ootori settled down and poured some tea, focusing on the woman who nearly keeled over just minutes ago. It was no doubt that she was under a lot of stress, so much so that Kiyoko's masseuse had to comment on it.
"Is it Kyouya? Surely, that boy is quite a handful to deal with…"
Kiyoko shook her head and gratefully took the cup of warm tea from Fuyumi. "He is the least of my worries. He probably is the only thing that keeps me sane these days," she admitted. "I really would not know what to do without him."
"What are you doing?" Fuyumi wondered. "Kyouya only told me to keep you company and to look out for someone named Misaki."
Kiyoko shook her head. "I don't even know where to start," she scoffed. "The long and short of it is that I'm trying to stage a coup against the Hibayashi board."
Fuyumi raised an eyebrow. That was quite the task, perhaps a silly one at that. "And why would you do that, dear?"
Kiyoko sipped on her tea. She could finally see clearly again, breathe normally, and lean back on the cushion with ease. She finally felt herself again. "Why else?" she contorted her mouth back into a sly smirk. "We're all self-serving power hungry people."
The Ootori shook her head and poked a small fork into a pastry. Fuyumi's slim fingers placed the saucer into Kiyoko's hands to gently get her to eat something, however small. She obliged without a fuss, mostly out of respect for what could be her sister-in-law and placed the mug of tea down.
"Power hungry, sure," Fuyumi shrugged, accepting that explanation like any other. You had to be power hungry to survive in this dog eat dog world. "But as I recall, you don't have a history of being interested in the business."
"Correct," Kiyoko agreed. "Which only makes it fair that I ruin everyone who has made it so."
"And getting closer to Misaki was a part of this?" Something wasn't quite adding up for Fuyumi.
Kiyoko took a bite of the cake and chewed slowly before sighing. The crumb was dry and the cream felt flat. Kiyoko could hear how ridiculous this scheme sounded when she said it all aloud. Was Kyouya feeding into her delusion after all?
"I assumed the worst. Who knows, maybe she's just living her best life with this newfound wealth. And I'm here flailing about, not knowing what I'm doing after all." Kiyoko took the last bite of the dry cake and washed it down with the tea. So much for sustenance, she thought to herself. It should last a couple hours at least, she figured.
"But if you're right," Fuyumi countered. "That gives you an advantage, no?"
Kiyoko's heart skipped a beat as her stomach dropped. Why did the thought of Misaki being hurt make her stomach churn like this? She was a stranger. Kiyoko had no connection to this woman. She shouldn't have cared. Soon she was hyperventilating again, gripping the mug until her knuckles were white.
Breathe, she told herself. Why was it so hard to do the simplest task?
"Kiyoko?" Fuyumi called out to the woman who had spaced out, lost in her thoughts. Or maybe overwhelmed with emotion again, breathing quicker than she had previously. Fuyumi laid a hand on Kiyoko's knee, bringing her back to the conversation.
"Sorry," she apologized, shaking herself out of the daze. "I don't know why I'm so airheaded today."
"It seems like you're worried for her?"
"That's a stretch," Kiyoko refused to think of it as a worry. But she still couldn't pinpoint why it made her react so poorly, either. She was usually sharper than this. Emotions nonexistent. But her body seemed to betray her mind.
"Well," Fuyumi smiled. "Whatever the case may be, let me help you. I am sure our circles overlap. Let me take the reins on forming the bridge that you may need."
"That is very kind of you but I wouldn't want to taint your reputation more than I already have. Today was a bit of a disaster, wasn't it?"
"Nonsense," Fuyumi disagreed. "I've always wanted to get to know you better. This afternoon has not been wasted. We could still order champagne," she winked.
Kiyoko was taken back for a moment before falling into a chuckle. "You're much more fun than your brother."
Kyouya came home to a house that smelled like a restaurant. It had been quite some time since he had called the family chauffeur to pick him up when Kiyoko had texted that she needed the car for the rest of the day. He was too busy to text back or to argue.
His stomach growled immediately at the waft of a home cooked meal. His ears perked up at laughter from the kitchen and he immediately narrowed his eyes at the guest. He noted the extra pair of Manolo Blahniks that were not Kiyoko's. The fuchsia pink was not her style. Thank goodness for that.
Fuyumi had just set the table and perked up at the sight of her brother who was clearly exhausted from the day. His gloomy demeanour was hard to ignore as he frowned at the sister.
"Just in time," Fuyumi smiled at him. "I haven't seen you in so long. You've aged." The older sister reached out to the boy, pulling him into a gentle hug. He towered over her and was no longer so little of a brother. "Why are you working so hard, hm? You have a lovely wife to spend time with now."
"Not a wife," Kiyoko interjected as she garnished the salmon with slivers of thin green onion. Kiyoko wiped off the excess glaze with a steady hand, as if trained by the finest Michelin chefs.
"Hurry up then," the older Ootori patted the broad back of Kyouya. "She's too good to pass up."
"I'm working on it," Kyouya gritted out, letting go of his sister and rounding the counter to the one he wanted to see most after a long day. Kiyoko was focused on the third plate, somehow managing to create a whole three course meal over the afternoon with ease. An appetizer of crudités were already assorted on a serving platter, a creamy kabocha soup that had cooled perfectly to the right temperature to start the meal, and the salmon that she was working on plating as the siblings caught up.
Kyouya planted a firm kiss at her temple, pulling her close by the waist. He was aching for the domestic ritual that they built over the course of a few months together. Kyouya wanted it back, he wanted all of her back in his arms every night, every day, forever.
"It smells absolutely mouthwatering," he whispered.
"Thanks," she smiled up at him, leaning into him in comfort. "I hope your sister will like it."
Right. His sister was still around. Kyouya looked up to see Fuyumi watching the couple with a large plastered grin. He stood straighter, forgetting for a brief moment that they had an audience. "Speaking of which," he cleared his throat. "How did this come about? Don't you have a husband to go home to?"
"I'll have you know he's on a business trip and this was all your doing, of course," the sister rolled her eyes. "You told me to keep her company."
"Yes, and your job is done," Kyouya frowned, readying to shoo his sister away.
"I invited her over," Kiyoko chimed in. Fuyumi was rather eager to grocery shop at the department store and to learn to cook. Something about learning to be more domestic had her attached to Kiyoko by the hip. "Seemed only right as we had much to discuss about who our circles we could target to spread the gospel of… well, you," she pointed her chopsticks towards the youngest Ootori. "After all, you're the star of the coup."
Kyouya could not argue against that notion. "Good progress today then?"
Kiyoko shrugged, repressing the afternoon's events. She had to move forward, not backward. There was no time to figure out what was going on with her mind and body when she had other things to focus on. "As good as any." After all, Kiyoko managed to recruit another person to the cause. No matter how far fetched it seemed.
Fuyumi nodded with enthusiasm. "Did you know she was such a good cook? She made all of this from scratch!"
"And Fuyumi-san helped with the prep," Kiyoko added. "It's nice to have a sous chef around here." She lifted the plates, skillfully balancing on one her forearm and carried them towards their dining table.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Kyouya tilted his head at the two women.
"It means you're useless," Fuyumi explained, gathering the serving platter and another bowl. "Go wash your hands," she urged, ignoring the scowl of her brother. By the time he finished, Kiyoko and Fuyumi had already settled at the table as a group chattering about Ryu-san, a name he only recognized as a friend of the family's.
The youngest Ootori ate his meal quietly, his hunger took over while the women carefully schemed across each board member that Kiyoko had memorized off the top of her head.
"Are you good at chess?"
"I'm not bad at it," Kiyoko admitted. She enjoyed a good game every so often.
"And how about Go?"
She squinted at the thought of it. "I'd have to brush up on that one," Kiyoko sighed. It was Haru's preference. Kiyoko liked chess as it was easier - limited number of moves with only so many strategies that were already published. Go was simpler but the possibilities rendered more of a headache for Kiyoko than the western counterpart. The siblings had played their fair share of both together as children to pass the time in quiet leisure as they drowned out the noise of their household.
"He frequents a Go club in Ginza. Be good enough to catch a game with Asahi-san and maybe you'll be able to get through to the rest of them. If you need practice, use Kyouya," Fuyumi offered. "He'll probably be a worthy opponent."
Kiyoko raised an eyebrow. "Finally useful, aren't you?" she teased.
The youngest Ootori could not wait for his sister to leave them alone. Kyouya had never felt so attacked within a span of an hour. He gathered spoonfuls of the soup into his mouth in silence and continued to eat with a scowl. But his scowl never lasted long with each bite. Tender mouthfuls of salmon braised in a simple sweet soy glaze with rice was delicious up until the last grain. Kiyoko had a small teapot of ochazuke to finish off the remaining rice, if it was wanted. Kyouya couldn't have stayed angry even if he tried.
Fuyumi was out of their hair after the simple custard dessert, happy to head home after an enjoyable meal with lovely company. Kiyoko loaded the dishwasher while Kyouya sent off his sister for the night, waiting for their family's chauffeur once again. When there was finally only one Ootori left in the household, Kiyoko had finished with the clean-up and contemplated on a glass of wine after a long day.
Kyouya finally had her to himself. He sighed in relief, letting his shoulders fall before trapping her by the hips against the counter to nuzzle his nose against her neck. He breathed her in, relieving himself of the stress of the day. This was his favourite place in the world.
"Are you alright?" she turned around to face him. "Long day?" Kiyoko's slender fingers cupped his cheeks.
"Yes," he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against her. "Fuyumi was so fucking annoying."
"I quite like her," Kiyoko smiled up at him. "You should treat her kindly. She looks out for you," she lectured. "It's nice to have a big sister." Kiyoko missed her sibling dearly.
He delicately placed strands behind her ear before smoothly cupping her cheek to kiss her lovingly. "I've missed you," Kyouya whispered against her lips.
"It hasn't even been a full day," Kiyoko laughed.
"What can I say? I'm obsessed with you," the Ootori mirrored her laugh. "I love you."
"I guess you're alright too," she winked, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Oi," he growled, pulling her closer. "Try again."
Kiyoko stared back, defiant. "You're alright," she repeated with a shrug.
His nostrils flared before he lifted her up by the thighs to carry her to the sofa, placing her down with a thud. His arms and legs caged her in as she sat back with her lips parted in anticipation. Her lips curved into a smile as her eyes crinkled with adoration up at him. Fuyumi said that he aged but his smile lines only made her heart flutter whenever she spotted them. Kiyoko only knew him as a man, and never quite the teenage boy whose face was free of the earned ridges along his eyes and mouth.
"Stop smiling," he demanded, glowering over her as she bit her lip. Kiyoko just enjoyed riling him up and if Kyouya hadn't known how this woman operated, he would've gotten angrier by the second. Her mesmerizing stare somehow made him feel naked despite being fully clothed. Instead, he swooped down to kiss her again, aching for the feel of her plush lips.
One of his hands hovered behind her back and down to her hips, while the other hand ran through her soft hair. She pulled him against her body, needing his weight against her. Kiyoko couldn't explain why he made her feel so relaxed, how his presence would slow down her heart rate and let her breathe deeply for the first time today.
"Always making me work for it," Kyouya growled, pressing kisses along the column of her neck. "You like that, don't you?" His grip against her head tightened, mussing up her hair that made her eyes roll back. She whimpered at the way his touch felt so powerful yet secure. It was everything she never knew she wanted.
"You do," he confirmed. Kyouya loved the noises she made, even if she tried to conceal them. "I could listen to you all day."
"Then you wouldn't get any work done," Kiyoko countered with a small smile, eyes still closed. His hands had moved to try to find the waistband of her skirt, inching further down to where he really wanted to be. "Any progress, dear?" she asked casually, knowing that he wouldn't be able to find the waistband. This was a satin slip dress beneath a lovely cashmere Sezane.
"Progress?" he repeated, unable to focus.
"You know, 24% premiums and all," she half-teased.
"No," he stopped, lifting himself off of her to sit beside her instead. He groaned at the thought of the numbers that he tried to put behind him just hours ago. "Are you seriously talking about work?"
Kiyoko smirked and combed through her hair. Kyouya had done a decent job of tugging on her scalp to ruin the smooth silky texture. Her fingers gave just enough for volume to fall effortlessly down her shoulder, perfectly imperfect and ruined only by him. She moved over to sit in between his lap, gently grabbing his hands so they fell on her hips. She kissed him tenderly on the cheek and snaked her arms around his neck.
"I like to make you work for it," she whispered seductively. "Did we settle on 24%?"
"No," he frowned, gripping her ass before he moved down to find the hem of her skirt. He craved so badly for that skin to skin contact. "Kiyoko, it's been less than a week. Stop moving up the price while you're trying to fuck." God knew that he would crumble anyhow.
"Fine," she pouted. "I guess you won't be rewarded then."
Kyouya scoffed. "Don't test me. Be a good girl, won't you?" It was a particularly long day arguing with his analysts and a day full of meetings that felt unproductive. He was pent up with frustration and fuck, he really needed her in any shape or form.
"Not a good girl," Kiyoko raised an eyebrow. "Unhinged psycho, perhaps."
"But for me," the Ootori finally found his way up her dress. He loved the feeling of her soft skin. He craved the feeling all day. His calloused skin against the soft velvet thighs was a soothing sensation to him. "You dressed like a good girl today, didn't you?" She looked cute: straight hair with an ensemble that was absolutely appropriate to meet his family members in.
Kiyoko waited for him to reach her bare ass as she batted her eyelashes at him. As he ran his fingers along her waist, and then back down to her hips, he found nothing but pure skin where there was usually a string of lace. His mouth fell.
"Fuck," he breathed. "You weren't wearing underwear all day? And you didn't tell me?"
She kissed his jaw in response, grinding up against his boner in one swift motion. "Why would I? And your sister probably saw me naked today, by the way."
"What?" Kyouya sat up, not loving the mention of his sister while he was fully erect. She somehow sobered him up one entire sentence.
"How do you think massages work, darling?" Kiyoko laughed at him. "Have you never been to a spa? It was probably just for a second though."
The Ootori growled. "No," he hated the thought of anybody seeing her naked except for him. "No, you're mine. This is all mine," he pulled her closer by the ass. "I've worked for this." Kiyoko adjusted herself to straddle his hips and sat comfortably on his legs. Kiyoko grinded against his cock, teasing him without a single word. It was mutually beneficial, with her clit rubbing against the seam of his pants and him aching for more.
He moved his hands up to peel the cropped sweater off, needing to feel more of her body.
"Off," he demanded. "Now."
She obliged, mostly because she could not afford him ripping apart this beautifully woven sweater that was hundreds of dollars. It was in the softest merino wool and hugged her body in just the right places. The cowl neckline of her satin dress was displayed to make him bury his nose into her sternum, also where she smelled so delightfully sweet.
"Good girl," he muttered when she didn't put up a fight. Kyouya roughly pulled off one strap with the cup to reveal a perky nipple that was just made for him to devour. His tongue lapped around the sensitive bit, ruining her composure entirely as she gasped and mewled under his touch. Kyouya pulled back to take a look at his work, liking the way he had ruined her in every way possible. Messy hair, lipstick smudged, clothes barely covering her body. She looked positively fucked without even the real thing happening yet.
"You look…"
"Fuckable?" she drawled, acutely aware of how debauched she must have looked but quite liked the gaze of the Ootori who wanted to take it all in. His eyes had nothing but adoration for her, even this state. Or rather, especially in this state.
"I was going to say lovely but," Kyouya chuckled, twirling a loose strand of hair that fell in front of her face. "Yes, that too."
She made quick work of his belt and trousers, her deft hands pulling him right out to graze along her soaking slit. Kyouya couldn't count the number of times they had fucked on the couch before but goodness, he missed this dearly. This was the usual routine he had built with her over the months before she disappeared. It was like finally coming home.
His fingers made sure to skim along her nipples ever so slightly, remembering how sensitive they were and how just the most delicate touch would make her feral. "How did you get so wet, hm?" He whispered, knowing that it was all him. Kyouya took pride in being able to unravel her like this. He peppered more kisses along her neck and shoulders, keeping his hands on her hips as she moved along for more friction.
She grunted in response. "Shut up," Kiyoko grumbled. "Shut up and make me cum," she demanded.
He smirked at her. "With pleasure," he said. "How do you want it?"
Kiyoko was not one to beat around the bush, lining herself up so he could impale her as fast as possible. It was almost embarrassing at how wet she was to take him in. He loved how there was no resistance that followed as he entered the warmth of her body. "So tight, my god, it's like you were made for me."
She nodded, desperately clawing to his shoulders as she stretched around him. His fingers found their way to her engorged clit, giving her a gentle touch just to keep her on the edge. Kyouya could watch this forever, letting her use him until she threw her head back and moaned in pleasure.
Kyouya wanted to capture this moment, sear it into his brain, and then replay it until the end of his life. He didn't know life could be so good. If only she knew a fraction of how much he loved every bit of her and how much colour she brought into his world. Before her, he lived mundanely and accepted that this was it.
"Stop thinking," she growled, moving her hands to cup his face so he would look her in the eyes. She demanded it from him. She was so beautiful when she did that, he thought. Kyouya tightened his fingers against her hips, helping her along his cock as a means of silently responding. He was paying full attention to this now. Living in all of it. From her shallow breaths, to the way he felt inside of her, to the way his balls ached as he tried his best to make sure she came first.
"Let go," she murmured right into his ear. "Fuck me like you mean it." He picked up the pace and obediently did as told. Kyouya grunted knowing that he was going to lose control sooner than he would have planned. It was silly of him to assume he had any control when it came to her.
"Yes," she encouraged him with a low moan. "Yes, yes, yes," Kiyoko dug her claws into his shoulders to keep herself upright. "I love you," she whispered, right as her walls tightened against him in waves, fluttering in pleasure and absolute defeat. She shuddered beneath his touch, kissing him in a sloppy, sex-induced haze.
She was so wet that just the slightest movement of him moving inside of her had him falling apart, following with her after just a few more strokes. Kiyoko peeled herself off of his chest with a sheen of sweat that made her entire body glow. Kyouya only smiled up at her, exhausted yet incredibly relaxed after a long day. Somehow, everything felt right in the whirlwind of chaos.
"Are you proud of yourself?" she teased.
Kyouya agreed with a chuckle, eyes half-lidded and completely pleased with himself. He helped her put her dress back on her shoulders, still loving how fucking gorgeous she was with that tinge of pink on her cheeks. "You?"
She laughed and it was music to his ears. "I shouldn't be." She felt like a hormone induced teenager. Kiyoko finally felt allowed to have a little bit of fun in her life - even if it meant making a bit of a mess. Kiyoko slowly leaned back to her coffee table where a box of tissues were. They had mastered this dance but even then, it had been a little while. He sighed when she finally came off of him, slowly reeling back to reality.
As a gentleman would, Kiyoko was given the right to the shower first but not without him joining her whilst she scrubbed herself clean with a body wash that smelled absolutely divine. Bergamot and gardenia blossomed across the steamy waters. Kyouya loved running his fingers up and down her spine and circling them around her waist while kissing her neck. She squirmed out of his grip, chiding him for not being helpful at all.
By the time Kyouya had finished with his own routine, Kiyoko had already brushed her teeth and continued on with her to many steps of a skin routine.
"I know it's only been a day but the deal is really coming along," he debriefed her. It felt natural to get into this rhythm, like partners who had just come home after a long day of work with a much needed detour on the couch. "I managed to convince the general counsel of the profitability of the plan."
"Is there a price I can promise the board?" Kiyoko raised an eyebrow.
"No," Kyouya shook his head. "Patience please, my dear. Not yet."
She pouted. "I made my rounds at the country club today but only managed to find one board member. Haneda-san, if you recall. Could not get much of a read on him but I do know that his granddaughter has been causing quite the headache."
"How so?"
"Oh, you know," Kiyoko waved off. "Casual drug use and all. Excessive partying. Rehab check-ins every other year or so."
Kyouya blinked. "And this is common knowledge?"
"Hm," Kiyoko shrugged. It wasn't anything special or obscenely scandalous, not to her anyway. "Who knows? It seems like he would not like the idea of our psychiatric care becoming more accessible. He pays big bucks for that exclusivity and hush-hush culture. You better pitch expansion nicely or sweep it under the rug if you're planning on growth."
"Hm," the Ootori nodded in understanding. The devil works hard but Kiyoko somehow worked harder, gathering intel across the landscape.
"Tamaki called," he switched the topic seamlessly. "Something about Antoinette. I couldn't hear him since I was in the parking garage."
"His dog, right?" Kiyoko chimed in, pulling the serum all the way down to her neck. "How old is Antoinette?"
Kyouya nodded while he rinsed his mouth. "Not sure. Well over a decade by now?"
The two caught up on what felt like the most mundane topics and nothing felt more right than to start and finish the day with each other. Someone to think out loud with, to lean on, to fall asleep to, to feel cherished and loved by.
Kiyoko turned from the mirror, holding her arms out so he would naturally gravitate into her body. She instantly buried her nose into Kyouya's chest and breathed him in. He picked her up by the legs and carried her to bed in one swift motion.
"I wish I could keep you here," he sighed, putting her body down gently. Kiyoko welcomed how tender he could be to her. She never knew someone could care for her in the way that he did - cradling her like she was precious.
"In bed? All day? What could we possibly do?" Kiyoko laughed lowly, letting her body sink into her mattress. The massage did nothing for her today, her shoulders and neck still ached as they always did. If anything, the whole ordeal became more stress-inducing to her than not.
"I just want to fucking sleep in," Kyouya grumbled. Work was more demanding than usual lately. Resting with her was better than not but every morning just felt like it wasn't enough. He needed to keep her in his arms until he finally woke. Kyouya wanted to ravish her in the mornings, sleepily and unhurriedly.
"Aw," she pouted. "And here I thought you'd fuck me senseless for hours on end. Trapping me here because you'd melt my entire body into a pool of pleasure. My muscles sore, my legs unable to function, and my brain defunct of anything but your name on my lips."
Kiyoko nearly rendered him speechless with that image of her naked body, pliant under his own for hours on end. His brain was getting there but she certainly expedited the process. "Your wish is my command." He was eager to have a day, or even a weekend with that exact itinerary. Preferably somewhere warmer. Clothes optional.
Kiyoko rolled over and perched her head on her arm, liking the way he caved in so easily. "So, 24%?" she winked.
"Good night," Kyouya dismissed with an eye roll. Kiyoko was impossible. But he wouldn't have wanted any other way as his arm came around her waist to keep her right below his chin. He sighed into the scent of her hair and drifted off to sleep without another second to spare.