Chizuru slouched as she took a bite of her breakfast. The morning news announced a warm humid summer day for Tokyo. She's been home for more than a week. Filling her schedule with various of activities. She didn't mind being alone most of the time, but summer wasn't her favorite season. Even with eight hours of sleep, she woke up exhausted.
She had abysmal dreams and picturesque nightmares.
'…a drunk driver hit their car…pronounced dead on arrival.'
'It's a miracle her kid's fine. No major injuries.'
'The internal bleeding is too severe…we can't stabilize her vitals.'
She was in a cold room that smelled of disinfectant and a rusty scent that reminded her of blood. The sound of the emergency room as she sat on the bed alone. Watching people move frantically.
'Does she know her mother has passed away?'
'There's no immediate relative in the country.'
'She'll get placed in the foster system if no one shows up.'
Chizuru ate her yogurt with strawberries and berries. Taking another spoonful. When she had these dreams, food always tasted terrible. Like she was eating soot and asphalt.
'Mommy, why do you talk differently from Quinn's mom?'
The woman pat her head lightly. 'I sound different because I grew up somewhere else.'
Chizuru got herself ready for the day. Submerging herself in the bathtub. Pulling her knees close to her chest as she closed her eyes. Muffling all the noise.
'Is Japan a nice place mommy?'
There was a fleeting excitement as her mother spoke of home. The food, people, and shrines. Colors the kimonos people wore and summer festivals fireworks.
'Why did you leave?'
'I'll tell you when you're older, my love.'
Water dripped from her skin. Carefully drying herself. Wearing her silk bathrobe as she went to her dressing room to pick an appropriate outfit.
Oscar dela Renta, Celine, Zimmerman, Burberry, Saint Laurent, Chanel, or Dolce and Gabbana? She went through one dress after another. Upset because she had nothing to wear. She searched until settling for the beige Dior summer dress with wildflowers embroidered on it.
'Chizuru means a thousand cranes. If you fold a thousand cranes you'll have your wish granted.'
'Really mommy? I'll fold two thousand then!'
'Why so much, my love?'
'So we can both have our wishes granted.'
The mirror reflected her flaws. She placed on makeup hiding any imperfections. Bringing color to her face. She wore vintage emerald drop earrings to brighten and accentuate her features.
'Ms. Amy I'm scared.' She hid behind her. Unfamiliar with the people in the room.
They've been mumbling and whispering to each other. Chizuru couldn't understand their language, but knew they were talking about her. They looked at her the same way Stacy Walters looks at her during lunch and Stacy wasn't the nicest person in her class.
'They're your family from Japan. They're bringing you home.'
'But what about my mom?'
A tall man with wavy golden brown hair and eyes that looked like hers bent down at looked at her. He spoke like her mother.
'Hello, Chizuru. I'm your father. My name is Yukio Maihara.'
Chizuru settled for the peony blossom lipstick. Spritzing perfume on her wrist and neck. The evanescent pocket of happiness dissipated once the scent disappeared. Nostalgia was a ghost of gratitude. Her mother always smelled of pear and freesias.
She heard the doorbell and ran down the stairs. It was impolite to let her friend to wait for too long.
"Thanks for letting me study at your place, Chizuru." Haruhi held several books. She had an exam coming and needed a quiet place to study.
"I'm glad you could make it." Chizuru beamed. Gesturing for Haruhi to come inside.
"Ojamashimasu." Haruhi took off her shoes and entered.
Haruhi didn't feel too out of place. Chizuru lived in a reasonably sized bungalow. She was half-expecting those imposing and daunting mansions her friends had. Surprised some people from their side of society chose to live simply.
Chizuru toured her around. It was a beautiful fusion of a European and Japanese cottage with lots of flowering plants and trees. Wisterias crawled on the walls. Haruhi didn't know Chizuru had a green thumb and had all sorts of flowering plants, succulents, and orchids. Several trees were dispersed in the area – Ginko, Star Magnolia, Weeping Cherry blossom, Fringe, and Juneberry.
She could picture how alluring this place was during spring and autumn.
"…Then this is the music room." Chizuru showed her the most chaotic room in the house.
Papers and books sprawled all over. A piano with several mugs on the lid with notebooks haphazardly stacked on one another. Photos of Chizuru with her friends and family hung on the wall. Seeing her in costume for Zuka Club plays, playing the piano and guitar behind the scenes, and a photo of her standing on a podium in a fencing outfit.
Chizuru saw Haruhi looking at the collection of photos. Staring at her last fencing championship photo. "The man in grey is my grandfather."
"He seems like a nice man." Haruhi observed the an imposing man who stood beside a younger Chizuru.
Chizuru held the picture briefly and smiled. "He was."
Haruhi noticed a photo of a woman who looked exactly like Chizuru. The only way she could tell they were different people was because of the age and style of the photo.
"That's Yukina-obachan." Chizuru pointed out. It felt like she was introducing a longtime friend. Her late aunt's fashion sense was à la mode. They shared that love for clothes.
Haruhi didn't know much about fashion, but she knew Kaoru and Mei would have been all over this person. Continuing the tour and she was certain they've covered the entire place, but she didn't see where Chizuru's parents stayed.
"Where are your parents? I'd like to pay my respects."
"No need. Their house is a twenty minute walk from here. I'm not sure if they're home."
"You live alone?" Haruhi was startled.
Chizuru took a moment to answer. "Yes and no? I live with Yukina-obachan." She picked up the photo that might as well be her reflection. "She died ages ago, but I kept her things. It feels like two people live here."
Ironically, Yukina was the family member Chizuru knew the most. She's read her aunt's diaries. She religiously updated every day since she was a young girl. Her story transcended her lifetime.
Abruptly changing the subject, Chizuru brought Haruhi to the library. Saying she was free to use any material available. Not that any of the books in her collection would aid an aspiring lawyer.
"I also had tea set up in the garden. You can stay there." She pat Haruhi's head as they walked arm in arm. "I can only imagine how stressful the wedding preparations are."
"The wedding isn't happening in two years." Haruhi couldn't understand why the preparations were so early. Honey and Reiko's wedding preparations weren't as taxing as hers and they're getting married this year.
"Two years?" Chizuru gasped. "What a tight schedule. I can see why they're in a hurry."
The cozy feel of the house was overpowered by the gardens. Haruhi didn't think there was this kind of place in the middle of Tokyo. It's like those exclusive country club gardens. Like the ones she saw in soap operas.
"Wherever I went it's all wedding talk. I just wanted a place to hide." Haruhi relaxed into her seat. "Thank you for this."
"It's nothing." Chizuru placed some strawberry tarts on the table. Satisfied when she saw Haruhi's eyes lit up. "I was told these were your favorite."
"Do you have some water?" Haruhi cleared her throat. The tarts were good but she ate too fast.
Chizuru dialed the intercom. "Any kind of water you prefer? I have alps, Fiji, Tasmanian rain, and Kona Nigari."
Haruhi didn't know there were different types of water. "Uhh, plain tap water?"
The Marunochi line was the fastest route from Chizuru's to the Suoh Mansion. The sound of the train announcement played as Haruhi stood against the wall.
"This train is bound for Ikebukuro."
She looked at her watch and was running late for another wedding planning session. She should be there in fifteen minutes. The hum of the subway lulled her as she went through one station after another.
"The next station is Korakuen M-22. The doors on the right side will open. Please go down this station if you plan on transferring to the Toei Mita line."
Haruhi pulled her bag close as she transferred trains. She had to go down Kasuga Station which was a three minute walk from the Suoh Main Mansion. She ran up the subway steps and saw a familiar pair of purple eyes and blonde hair waiting for her by the exit.
"Sorry, I'm late." Haruhi tried to catch her breath.
"Were you able to study well?" Tamaki held her hand. Taking her books into the other as they walked to the mansion.
"Yeah, Chizuru warned me. Time flows differently at her place. I didn't even notice."
Tamaki filled her in with all the wedding details. The venue was narrowed down to three places. Five caterers already reserved for the fifteen course meal. Most importantly, they've fixed the guest list, but there were a few adjustments to be made.
"O-one thousand?" Everything started to dawn to Haruhi. Her hands shook as she processed the news.
"—and two hundred and thirty-three guests for now." Tamaki grinned. Enthusiastic with the people who wanted to be part of their wedding. He ushered Haruhi across the Suoh Mansion halls. Bringing her to the drawing room which his grandmother and mother have turned into the 'Wedding Headquarters'.
"We haven't finalized our European guest list so there might be a few additions." Tamaki added casually like he was inviting them to tea.
Haruhi felt nauseous. She loved Tamaki, but this was too much.
Tamaki saw Haruhi's expression. He felt a twinge in his heart but withheld judgement. In all successful relationships communication was key. They promised to never make assumptions. To never to go bed angry at one another.
He caressed her cheek with one hand while the other pulled her close. "Ma chére, Are you getting cold feet? We can–"
"No." Haruhi cut him off. Knowing where this was going. "I won't say it again, senpai." Haruhi added bluntly. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you, but the wedding scares me a bit."
"I apologize, Haruhi." Tamaki kissed her forehead lightly and hugged her. "I know how these things make you uncomfortable, but –"
"—It's part of the Suoh family's responsibility. It's okay, senpai."
"Thank you for understanding."
Tamaki brought her into the "Wedding Headquarters" and Haruhi wanted to take back her words.
This wasn't a wedding. It was war.
"How do you plan on seating the Ootoris?" Shizue Suoh pushed her reading glasses up. Her grandson and only heir of the Suoh family deserved nothing less than perfection.
"Should we put the Hitachiin and Amakusa family beside them?" Anne-Sophie analyzed the high priority families on their list.
"Excellent. Their dreary and square personality will be washed out." Shizue caustically commented. Relieved to have that out of the way.
"Can't people just sit wherever?" Haruhi questioned. They were just going to eat and join the festivities. Was it such a big deal who they were seated with? It wouldn't affect the taste of the food.
The room went silent. Everyone stared at her as if she said she was calling off the wedding.
"This is the wedding of society." Shizue cleared her throat followed by a mindful pause. "We cannot overlook any detail."
Shizue lectured about the top 1% of the country. Prominent families had their own businesses and alliances. Mentioning the Host Club and other familiar names from Ouran. Families part of the "Class A" ranking. Even within this circle another hierarchy was present.
"…however they aren't part of the Big Eight." Shizue continued. "Remember this, Haruhi." Stressing each syllable. Ensuring she hasn't lost the attention of her future granddaughter-in-law. "The Big Eight families are Satoru, Mitsubishi, Mitsui, Yasuda, Maihara, Ootori, Suoh, and Mizushima."
Shizue went back to the wedding agenda. Haruhi listened to the seating arrangement conundrum. Unsure where to place everyone, but it was obvious they were keeping some apart.
"Is there a problem with Kyoya-senpai and Chizuru's family?" she whispered to Tamaki.
"Irreconcilable differences. To put everything simply" Shizue placed the papers down. Answering on her grandson's behalf.
"Irreconcilable differences?" Haruhi repeated. Confused, but sensed the seriousness of the topic.
Shizue asked the butler to bring in some tea and requested for privacy.
To speak of this in public would get anyone charged with defamation. That's what happened to the Sonada's. Their family was taken down in complete carnage and haven't been heard from since. The first and last time the two families worked together until now.
"What I'm about to share with you must remain confidential." Shizue remained firm. It wasn't her story to share, but it should enlighten the couple.
Urgency and secrecy lined the walls and crevices of the room.
"Both families hid everything from the public. It involved Yoshio Ootori's younger brother." Shizue looked at her deep green sencha tea.
"Kyoya never told me about his uncle." Tamaki moped. He's practically Fuyumi's adopted brother. The only non-Ootori who frequented the household without Kyoya.
"That's because he died before you were born. It was unheard of for an Ootori to cause ignominy…" Shizue hesitated before continuing. "…Much less a scandal because of an affair involving the Maihara family."
Shizue had a moment of silence.
An image of a pale skinned girl with long wavy golden brown hair entered her mind. Curious brown eyes that always looked beyond. Filled with elegance and light. Yukina Maihara was a young lady ahead of her time. In a family of artists, she chose to be a physician.
Memories rushing in after being kept in a safe for years.
'Obasama, I found a talented painter. He's slowly losing his vision, but refuses any financial aid. Maybe we can do a bit of magic?'
'They're sending me to Africa as a volunteer doctor, I promise to be there on your birthday. I'm your honorary daughter, remember?'
Shizue closed her eyes momentarily.
Yukina came back as scheduled, but in a box. Memories of Fuji Maihara and her husband as they watched their daughter's casket go down the plane, a light drizzle, strong winds, and Fuji's grip on her hand.
Any mother who lost her child went through unspeakable pain. Shizue had no words to console her friend.
'She was an honorable woman. Carrying out her oath as a physician until the end.'
That day was too memorable. She never thought she'd live past Yukina, see her closest friend lose her youngest, and the first and last time she saw an Ootori unravel into pieces.
'Haruto, you're supposed to be in Kyoto.'
'To hell with that fucking wedding niisama!'
'Don't forget your duty to our family.'
'I don't care! Yukina is gone.'
Truly a harrowing scene.
Haruto Ootori's screams of anguish. Gripping Yukina's coffin as if his life depended on it. Gone was the man who carried himself with dignity and propriety. His only fault was falling in love with someone ten years younger at the wrong time.
Shizue closed her eyes from images of the past.
"They didn't meet at the best circumstance and faced the consequences of their actions." She kept her words sparse. Respecting the departed and their memory.
Tamaki and Haruhi fell silent. The gravity of the tension during their engagement part and why the Maihara matriarch refused any direct interaction with the Ootori family made sense.
"Now you understand why the seating arrangement is crucial, Haruhi?" Shizue clarified. "Now, my child. Why were you late?"
Haruhi bowed. Hoping she wouldn't notice. "I'm sorry obaasama. I lost track of time studying in Chizuru's house. Exams are next week."
"The young Maihara girl?" Shizue sipped her tea. "You must have seen how beautiful the grounds were."
Haruhi nodded. Not surprised her grandmother-in-law was familiar with the place. "Yes, even the park. Chizuru gave me a pass so I can study there anytime." Flashing a small card with her name on it.
She added how nice the place was. The vast gardens and fresh air. All the neighbors also had a sense of community.
"That's no country club neighborhood, my dear." Shizue lips curled upwards. "The entire place caters only to the Maihara family. It's a great privilege to have that pass. Not everyone gets those."
"Ehhh?!" Haruhi exclaimed. That's why Chizuru knew everyone and greeted the other people jogging. How she casually mentioned her relatives lived a few minutes away.
Was it even legal to live in a property that rivaled Shinjuku park in size?
Shizue went on another sermon about the Maihara family's hold on the arts, film, media, literature, and finance. Their wealth came from land. Majority of Kanto was theirs. They used to own more than half of Kansai, Sapporo, and Tohoku region which funded their business ventures.
Haruhi almost dropped her biscuit. Is she saying that at some point, Chizuru's family owned almost 1/4 of the land of in Japan?
"There's a saying if you want to shape the next generation, you'll need the Maihara family on your side." Shizue joked.
Haruhi was perplexed with all the new information.
'Damn these rich people.'
A typical air rifle shooter has an average heartrate of 40-60 beats per minute while the general population went at 60-80. People with slower heart rates had lower levels of physiological arousal. Allowing them to control their reactions. Not feeling fear or emotions as quickly.
Permitting them to strike with accuracy and precision.
Kyoya steadied his breath and waited for the target to approach the breaking point. Timing was everything. Within half a second, he pulled the trigger. Easily hitting the clay targets.
"Ootori-san, I didn't think your youngest would be talented with rifles." Kazuya Kurakano praised. "My only son is a social recluse. I'm doomed."
Yoshio waved his hand dismissively with a sense of graciousness. Accepting the praise on his son's behalf. "I'm sure your son has his strengths. Kyoya still has much to learn."
Another round of shots fired.
The man placed the gun down and was satisfied with his performance. Greeted with resounding applause. Yukio Maihara was also a skilled shooter.
Serial killers were also known to have lower heartrates. Cold-blooded, cunning, and ruthless—Qualities needed to execute elaborate plans required immense control.
"You're quite talented with a rifle, Kyoya-kun." Brown eyes met his. It looked exactly like Chizuru's, but it lacked the warmth he was used to.
Kyoya bowed slightly showing respect. "Like my father said, Maihara-san. I still have much to learn."
The rest took their leave. Kyoya was the last one there. Carefully disassembling the air rifle and packing it away for safekeeping. He waited for the next shuttle outside to bring him back to the resort and had a quick smoke to pass the time.
"You are your father's son." Yukio commented.
Kyoya politely offered a cigarette which was accepted. Silence ensued as a psychological warfare occurred.
No one expected the board of directors of Sendai General to organize an outing with their families. They went to the resort of the Kurakano family which boasted state of the art facilities in the middle of the Aokigahara forest.
"I hope you don't find my company too dreary."
"Not at all, Maihara-san."
Yukio let out low chuckle with a tight-lipped smile. He found Kyoya astonishing. It was all there. The greed, discontentment, ambition, and avarice.
As if he was looking at his own reflection.
"Do you like playing games?" Yukio exhaled the smoke. "I like a good game of chess."
Kyoya feigned ignorance and kept up false pretenses. "Chess is enjoyable, but I fear my skills might not match up to yours. "
"How modest." He commented. Taunts in the guise of amity. "Personally, I find it exhilarating. Especially when you figure out your opponent's moves."
"I'm not sure I follow." Kyoya's lips turned up briefly. "I merely analyze the pieces laid out."
Yukio knew that look. Now He knew why Yoshio kept an eye on this one. "Maybe you'd humor me in a game or two sometime?"
"I would be honored."
Yukio Maihara regrouped with the rest of the men. Most the sons of the board members accompanied their fathers around the resort. Discussing things outside of business. Solidifying their network. Finding allies and fishing out enemies.
Kyoya pushed his glasses. It was a good thing he liked playing games.
Kyoya profiled the men around him. Filtering names and committing them to memory. It was good mix of the Class A and B families with a few Nouveau riche. He knew his family had the upper hand in these; hence his inclusion with the 'adults'.
Predictable conversations ensued. Drinking a thirty five year old Hibiki whisky as they spoke. They've gone through cars and sports. What's left were stocks, women, and some healthy intimidation.
"Kyoya-kun, it's a shame your brothers aren't here."
It seems healthy intimidation was up and he was the target of choice. As a child, Kyoya's had a strong sense of mental fortitude and never gave in. Always an eminence grise. Far too clever and covert.
No one suspects a man without any motive
"Akito-niisama had an emergency surgery. Yuuichi-niisama's schedule conflicted with this outing." Kyoya cordially explained.
"It must be nice being the third son. You've got tons of free time. I've been working for otousan for almost eight years and I'm beat." Another commented loosely.
There was a collective agreement. They were closer to the age of his brothers. For them, he was a child. A university student with no experience. He continued listening to them talking about acquiring stocks from some instant messaging app or the new luxury apartment in Ginza. Commenting, nodding, or laughing when appropriate.
Yuuichi's high school classmate pat Kyoya's back with no ill-intent. Praising Kyoya's ability to maintain the conversation. "Harvard students are built different. Yuuichi told me you're taking a double degree."
"No wonder you can keep up." The nouveau riche man wearing the ostentatious Louis Vuitton polo screaming with logos commented.
Kyoya's smile didn't reach his eyes. "I'm learning a lot just by listening to all of you."
Men were just as cliquish or maybe even worse than women. They stopped talking when Kazukiyo Soga passed by. He was from a 'Class A' family, but he didn't fit the bill. Still, greeting him with false politeness.
"Ootori-senpai, it's nice to see you here." Soga said with the right amount of respect and enthusiasm as he pushed his glasses.
"Likewise. It might be a little late, but I'd like to congratulate you and Momoka-san on your relationship." he offered Soga a seat which he politely refused claiming he had to go back to his girlfriend.
Men's conversations after stocks usually went to the next topic— women.
They talked about side affairs and which girls from society were "fun". Kyoya was only half listening at this point. It's not that he wasn't interested, but engaging in casual relationships or affairs, no matter how discreet, were avenues for exploitation. Sources of weakness.
Fleeting pleasure had more risks than benefits. He figured out his late uncle's shortcomings and he wasn't making the same mistake.
"I was surprised Maihara-san brought his daughter." The new money pompous commented. "I was planning on taking her out for a drink …I think she's interested in me. She kept on laughing at my jokes during breakfast."
"Not if I talk to her first. I'd like to have a doe-eyed beauty." The son who worked closely with democratic party clicked his tongue. "Imagine going home and seeing her with a hot cup of tea and having those long legs to yourself."
A forceful and perilous wave descended like nightfall.
"Kyoya-kun! Are you okay?" Yuuichi's classmate frantically handed him a tissue.
Kyoya saw his shards of glass shattered in pieces on the floor. His hand bled from gripping his glass too tightly. "I must have drank too much." He dismissed as he excused himself.
Men called it an endless hum of chatter, but female socialization was subtle and complex. Layers of flattery and double entendre lined innocent conversation.
All the women stayed in the main complex mingling with one other. It started during breakfast and continued until the afternoon. A wide range of topics discussed-The next charity to sponsor, last week's luncheon, relationship woes, gossip, theories on the next episode of the latest drama airing, and the idol they're all head over heels for.
Chizuru sat with Renge Houshakuji. To most Renge was simply an otaku, but she was well-versed in history with a fixation for the Bakamatsu era. She knew Renge was a frequent customer in the Host Club and probed. She recounted her first impression of Kyoya. How he was a man of honor, generous with love and praise, never expecting anything in return. Always offering a kind word.
"That's your first impression of Kyoya-san?" Chizuru could feel her eye twitch. Fighting for her life to maintain her composure. Were they talking about the same person or was this a feverish delusion?
Luckily, Renge disclosed this was based on a delusion of her videogame character crush that. He was also the glasses type.
"He looks exactly like Miyabi-kun!" Renge exclaimed. Fueled with otaku passion.
Showing Chizuru all her Host Club paraphernalia. Including Host Club doujinshi. The conversation moved onto their favorite pieces of literature, art, and the like. Their conversation stopped prematurely. There was a general consensus that those musically inclined had to perform at least one song.
"It's your turn." Renge motioned for Chizuru stand.
Pianoforte echoed through the halls. The tune was melodic, romantic, with an undertone of resentment if one listened intently. Anger and bitterness under the guise of a love song. Chizuru had this innate ability to enamor her audience. Her lyricism unparalleled and took everyone on a journey.
Chizuru did a short courtesy afterwards.
"How do you write these?" Fuyumi gushed. Wiping her tears. "Especially that line 'My world revolves around you. Cancelling my plans in secret. Hoping to keep you briefly even if you weren't mine to lose.' Absolutely Stunning."
"I usually starts with lyrics." Chizuru expounded. The song Fuyumi liked was about unrequited love. "Songs should tell a story."
Songs transcend time and reasoning. It takes one's deepest emotions and interprets them. When people or emotions change, songs remain the same. Acting as time capsule of that very moment.
"You must visit the mansion some time." Fuyumi was enthralled. "Isn't that right, okaasama?" she looked back at her mother who nodded. She paused then whispered. "I wouldn't want to boast, but it's a Steinway Fibonacci."
Giddy excitement was all Chizuru felt. "There's only three of those in the country."
Fuyumi winked. "Even Tamaki visits at least once a month just to play."
Tomomi Ootori crossed her arms. Outwardly, Chizuru was everything a well-brought up girl should be, but the inside was something else entirely. She saw so much of Yukina on the outside, but she could see Kiku in her as well.
"I see you inherited your mother's talent in singing."
"Not at all, Ootori-san. I still have a long way to go." Chizuru smiled charmingly. Deflection of praise was the standard way of accepting it.
The rest of the women took their leave to prepare themselves for the dinner service. Chizuru was a sociable person, but she had her introverted moments. She sat in the music room quietly. Keeping to herself and regaining her energy.
"Who's that song about?" Kyoya crossed his arms. Leaning against the wall.
"Secret." Chizuru walked towards him. Leaning on the wall as well. Surprised that he was in the area.
Kyoya's never seen her perform except for that one Zuka Club play. He's read her lyrics a few times. Sure, he's heard her sing, but he never heard any song she wrote.
"If that song was about my previous unrequited love, you should be ready for the consequences." Kyoya flicked her nose.
"Hmm…was it really about you? If the shoe fits, I apologize." Chizuru rubbed her nose. "Should I ready my immigration papers to your country of choice?"
Kyoya rolled his eyes. He watched Chizuru's eyes focus on the bandage on his hand. "It was an accident. I dropped a glass of whiskey."
She took his hand and examined the damage. "Since when were you clumsy?"
He took his hand back. Plenty of unwanted eyes everywhere. Both knew about the feud between their families. Studying overseas removed that barrier, but coming home placed it back. Especially in events like this they had to keep up appearances. They both went their separate ways shortly afterwards.
Chizuru replayed today's conversations as she walked back to her room.
What did Kyoya's mother mean by that? Her step-mother was tone deaf and she's sure she had a good grasp of tune. She may be be mother's half sister, but...Suddenly her stomach churned. It was her actual mom who sang well.
"May you be so kind to save this damsel in distress?" Chizuru darted to her only ally in the battlefield. The only way to ward off men was to stand beside another.
She took a short courtesy. Asking him for the next dance.
"How may I be of service?" Kyoya offered his arm. Ignoring the looks the others gave as they waltzed to Tchaikovsky's Waltz of the Flowers. It can't be helped that Chizuru was one of the more stunning, if not the most stunning woman in the room.
"If Sonada-san asks me to dance again, I'm going to fling myself off the terrace." Chizuru whispered as she smiled and waved at one her friends as they gracefully went around the parquet. Sonada had two left feet and dancing with him was a health hazard.
"It's difficult to cover attempted suicide." He pondered as he twirled her around. "and I refuse to be a witness and an accessory to the crime." he added sarcastically.
"What solution can you offer this damsel in distress?" Chizuru inquired dramatically.
"I'll have to monopolize your attention if that's fine with you?"
After the dance, they walked around the venue. Appearing to have a civil conversation between classmates. No actions that can cause eyebrows to raise and rumors to fly. Besides, nothing cements friendship like common hatred. Chizuru missed Kyoya's acerbic remarks. Especially about the man wearing the Gucci suit with a matching bedazzled Gucci belt.
"He said that?!" Chizuru abruptly covered her mouth. "I kept on laughing because he was funnier than the jokes he was telling."
They retreated from the battlefield and went outside. Following the hidden path that lead to a private pool close to the Ootori family's assigned private area. Chizuru stretched her legs and took a deep breath when things felt safe. Her corset kept everything together. She tried to bend down but she couldn't reach her toes. A vintage corcus colored Oscar dela Renta gown with yards of floral guipure lace was exquisite, but restrictive.
Kyoya knelt in front of her. Carefully removing her shoes.
"Hey, what are you doing? You don't have to do that." Chizuru whispered. Looking around hastily. Even if they're away, something like this will be taken out of context and blown out of proportion if they're seen.
He clicked his tongue. Like a mother scolding a child. Commanding her to sit still. "If I leave you alone and that corset stabs you, I'd have more problems to deal with as you bleed to death."
He could see any form of movement was a struggle. Wondering if she could even breathe properly. Was all this inconvenience worth it?
"Are you supposed to dress up or torture yourself?" he looked at the state of her feet.
"Pain and beauty come hand in hand." She closed her eyes. She looked like she was about to faint anytime. All she wanted to do was stay in bed and read a book.
He abruptly excused himself. The place was overflowing with food, but Chizuru had no appetite. She looked at the grotesque state of her feet. There were multiple blisters and a part of her toe was bleeding.
"Drink this." Kyoya came back and handed her a glass of water and fruit.
Chizuru knew she had no choice in the matter and forced herself to consume the food he brought. Placing her head against the wall and closing her eyes until she felt someone's hand on her feet.
Kyoya carefully applied ointment and bandaged up her wounds. Nagging about wearing impractical footwear. How functionality and comfort should be taken into consideration. Placing the ointment and bandages back into the first aid kit.
"How much did you drink? You're so red." he looked up at her.
Chizuru avoided his gaze and stared at the distance. Luckily, Kyoya dropped the question and looked at his phone checking stats for the Formula 1 Belgian Grand Prix. He had a bet with Andrew and Richard.
"Who's winning?" Chizuru's forehead rested on his shoulder. She was rooting for Lewis Hamilton.
"I'm placing my bets on the new driver Max Verstappen." Kyoya had a good feeling about him.
Chizuru liked the science and physics behind the sport. Having good looking drivers to root for was a welcome plus. She researched about the lack of grip and downforce. Wondering how it affected their performances. Kyoya listened intently to her thoughts and theories.
Her eyes had its playful glint back.
He never noticed how close her eyes were to honey or how her cheeks slightly flushed when she started laughing. Biting the bottom of her lip when she thought of something intriguing or funny.
Their conversation shifted from one topic after another. How she was upset he never told her about their family piano back home. Haruhi's wedding planning woes. What classes they'll register for next semester. Latest stocks and bonds. Even sharing notes on the gossip they caught on.
"There is nothing alive more agonized than man." Kyoya quoted Homer. Chizuru loved the Iliad to a fault.
"I'm lucky to be a woman." she rebutted with a smile so radiant it slowly lit the starless sky.
Thank you again for all the comments. I'm really thinking of pushing the whole spotify playlist thing but maybe once I have more songs. If you have any comments, questions, requests, hating the format, concrit, love, or anything to share go ahead. If you want a powerpoint presentation with all the characters mentioned so far...if you'll ask then I might indulge.
This chapter was more blast from the past sort of thing. Not a lot of fluff, but I did try my best to make up for that segment. I hope things are unraveling slowly. Lots of info about the past and hopefully a lot more questions were cleared up.
I kinda geeked out with the trains. For some odd reason I had an imaginary address for all our characters because I like overthinking these little details that no one pays attention to. That's an "actual route" from Chizuru's place to Tamaki's house. Japan has the best train system. I swear.
The Big Eight concept was loosely based on the Big 4 zaibatsu families. Only 3 last names there are legit. The rest are from my head. Satoru came from my crush on Gojo, but that's not his family obviously. This isn't a crossover fic.
I'm thinking of writing a bonus chapter for the backstory before our main characters. To shed some light with all the back story in the past. Might do this self indulgent/not really forwarding the plot chapter just because once I think about it.
For some odd reason, I've imagined Chizuru to have a folklore (yes, taylor swift) vibe with writing songs. Maybe this can help with your imagination.
I'll also apologize in advance. Work has been **** so my next chapter might be a bit delayed. Hopefully I get so angry I'm fueled by spite to write the next one.
Definition of terms:br /
Ojamashimasu - polite greeting when entering someone's homebr /
eminence grise - person who exercises power or influence in a certain sphere without holding an official /
otaku - me? just kidding. People with very niche interests. a geek?br /
Steinway Fibonacci - really expensive piano brand and /
doujinshi- fanmade comics/fanart manga
