Akari. Wolf. Princess: *Ben Wyatt voice* It's about the hatred turning into understanding, then romance. Lol but thank you! The mystery of what happened between Emiko and her parents will continue to build, so unfortunately, we will not be getting answers for a while...Sorry not sorry I guess :)

bored411: Now we get to the double date! And Sugimoto will be returning soon, as well as the suspiciousness around him.

lillyannp: Stranger: apparently harasses a young girl to the point where she's trying to beat him off. Old woman: so you have chosen death.

Unnecessary P: Please don't ever apologize for reviews they made my day.

Chelsea always: Thank you so much! :)

Thus far, no one else knows.

It is an inevitability. As of now, they are in the same eye of the hurricane that they'd been in when DomenMed had left Ootori Medical but it was not made public yet. It is quiet and tense. The air has an electric current.

The sad thing—and Kyoya thinks his mother knows it—is that in the grand scheme of things…it will not matter much.

It will only make ripples, not shockwaves. Jin and Yoshio Ootori's marriage was another example of an arranged marriage not between two leaders: Kyoya regrets saying something so blatantly untrue. Jin's father, Hiro Hobayashi, had been the right-hand man of Kazushi Ootori, Yoshio's father. The Hobayashi family's fortune and standing came solely from their ties to the Ootori family. They were the fruit that had come from the tree.

The friendship between the patriarchs of the Ootori and Hobayashi families had gone back two generations prior, but it was Hiro and Kazushi who had seen it all too fitting to have their children married. It perhaps wasn't the wisest "business" decision in that it didn't make any connection with another profitable family. Kyoya remembers when he was younger, Yoshio's voice would turn disagreeable when he explained this part of the story—no matter how much he loved his wife, he still had to criticize his marriage based on merit alone. Even Kyoya himself couldn't help but question such a move sometimes, with the one-track mind that he had, but he couldn't criticize his grandfathers too much. He remembered them both fondly.

The Hobayashis still exist. Every now and then, Kyoya catches glimpses of some distant cousins here and there. But Hiro had died many years ago with no other children besides his daughter. While the other Hobayashi fathers had passed their positions in the Ootori empire down to their children, Hiro hadn't done so with Jin. She had been free to do whatever she wanted with her life, and so she had chosen the path of the socialite mother and wife who kept up with everything there was to know about everyone, all while keeping their relations warm and friendly.

Point being, people will talk about this, but it will not be hissed whispers and exclamations fretting for the future of Ootori Medical now that its king and queen are no longer ruling together. More likely this will just be something muttered behind hands, gossiped over coffee. People will care, but it will not matter. It will be entertaining.

If his mother wants just a bit more time not being the subject of coffee gossip, then Kyoya can't fault her for that. He can fault her for many other things, but not that.

She had explained everything to them all while she was still hungover in the guest bed. That she was still going to "partner" with Yoshio. They were still in the same family, and she was going to keep doing her job of socialite to keep said family's image good. But soon they will legally be divorced. Things could very well change in the future, but for now their finances will stay as-is—she didn't want any property form Ootori Medical, but she and Yoshio had both agreed that it would look rather cruel if he just gave her a cut of money and tossed her to the streets.

Really, it doesn't seem like much will change at all. At most, they will no longer live in the same estate. They will still attend galas and other events as a pair to show that just because they are divorced, it does not mean that their family unit has fallen to pieces.

Now, as for why they were divorcing:

"Let him explain," Jin had sniffed.

At the time, Kyoya had had to stifle down the urge to snap his teeth at her. In her eyes, she was trying to keep her pride in this situation—she was refusing to be the heartbroken wife tossed aside by her unloving husband. In his eyes, though, she was, and still is, just making some kind of power play and using them as a part of it. She knows that this is shocking and confusing for their children, so of course she's going to put it on Yoshio to explain all the bitter details.

They had tried to ask for more, but Jin was adamant. She would not explain a single word about this divorce until her husband said something first. Kyoya is at least happy that this is happening when they are all adults and not children. He may have always been smart for his age, but even a young boy would carry some scars from his mother so blatantly declaring that his father is the bad guy, he's why their family is falling apart!

Everyone reacted differently.

Yuuichi had hung up very shortly after. Thus far, Kyoya hasn't heard a word from him. There's no telling just what he feels. Maybe he doesn't feel anything at all.

Akito had seemed unable to accept it. He kept asking question after question, sometimes repeating himself, like he was trying to figure out why the sky had turned red and the grass had become purple.

Fuyumi just seemed to be in shock. She hadn't said a word, hadn't protested. She had just stared at their mother with wide eyes as she "explained." She soaked in every word and gave none of her own.

Kyoya honestly doesn't know every single thing he's feeling, but mostly it is something akin to apathy—which ironically concerns him.

He'd never expected his parents to divorce, largely for the reasons Jin explained. It would be so troublesome. There'd be so much to figure out. It would sound awful to say, but in those times when Kyoya even humored the idea, he found his mother an example of why everyone should be raised to be a hard worker, rich or poor. When you teach your child that all they have to do is marry someone rich, what happens when their spouse dies, or they divorce? Do they just marry rich again? But of course, divorce in their world is not a common thing.

Thus he also felt for a while now that if they were not Ootoris, but just any other random family in Japan, then they would already be apart.

In all honesty, Kyoya could not remember the last time he'd seen true, warm love between his parents. At their best they were civil and polite, but nowadays it seemed that they just couldn't part from a single meeting with each other without making jabs. Their dialogues consisted of snipped criticisms spoken under their breaths. They walked away from each other exhausted.

It wasn't always like this, though. Kyoya can still very well remember a time when Jin and Yoshio Ootori loved each other. Warm smiles, lingering touches, meeting eyes across the room. Smiling just because they saw each other. Jin would make Yoshio's coffee in the mornings because she was the only one who knew exactly how he liked it. Yoshio would bring her a new piece of jewelry from every venture that separated them, and would painstakingly go through her collection to make sure he didn't repeat himself. If anyone fawned over it, Jin's first proclamation would not be who made it or where the gems were cultivated, but that her husband had gifted it to her.

He just can't remember when that all stopped. Of course, they weren't always perfect. Even the happiest married couples had their spats here and there. Kyoya simply can't place when "here and there" became "always."

For now, Kyoya is sitting in the cafe at Ouran University. This is one of the few places where he drinks coffee for both taste and effect. It's a nice place to relax, and—as several students are doing at the polished oak tables, with their laptops open and textbooks stacked precariously—study. The air carries the fine, rich aroma of freshly ground coffee. It has the silence of the library, no sound but the pitter patter of feet and hissing of steam.

He'd ventured here to see if it would take his mind off things, or at least let him focus. The whole look and ambiance of the place could relax someone right to sleep. It already has for some. Apparently, even Ouran is not immune to students falling asleep at café chairs, swaddled in their sweatshirts. Kyoya has his laptop open and his fountain pen in hand, ready to work, but his mind keeps drifting back to his family.

Kyoya has yet to see his father, yet to ask him about this new change in their family. He does not feel encouraged to do so. In the worst case scenario, Yoshio will be angered—perhaps not at him, but he'll be there, something to lash at. Even in better outcomes, Kyoya sees himself being dismissed. Ignored. He can't force his father to explain what's happening, and Yoshio knows that.

Past that, it's hard to tell what the future will be like from here on out. He imagines it won't change in structure, but nothing will be the same anymore. He's going to have to mind himself of bringing up Jin or Yoshio in the other's presence. Whatever Jin decides to do now as an unmarried woman, he'll have to stay updated. Are their already far-and-few-between reunions as a family going to become even farther and fewer?

He also feels some more weight on his shoulders. DomenMed leaving and the Ootori heads divorcing in all such a short amount of time is the flare from a sinking ship. People are going to start asking questions and he can't even hestitate to answer. They will look at the Ootori family and question if they should associate with a group so obviously falling apart at the seams.

Which makes him think—bitterly, as he takes a sip of extra-espresso so hot his lips scream in protest—that he will have to tell Kosuke this soon. There are others that he should tell, too. Tamaki is certainly near the top of the list, considering how he reacted to the news of Kyoya's engagement. Kosuke, though, she takes more priority than his best friend of several years.

She may not think their public image is so important, but Kyoya is now afraid that she's going to take the ball she's already fumbling with and drop it entirely. If someone asks her why her in-laws are divorcing—they shouldn't, given how forward that would be, but they will—then she can't just stutter out that she doesn't know. Heaven forbid she exclaim, "They're divorcing?!" She'll at least have to politely explain that it's personal and she doesn't feel that it's right to explain for them.

Even more important, if she doesn't improve her knowledge soon, then every student in Ouran and their grandmother will know she has no place as the head of Amida Health. So that will be the Ootori heads divorcing, DomenMed leaving, a rushed arranged marriage, and a rushed arranged marriage to the least qualified woman possible.

Needless to say, Kyoya has a lot to be thinking about right now. A headache is already itching at his temples.

Not to mention Tamaki is begging for a double date soon, he thinks. I have to still be mindful of my social life.

"Hey, Kyoya!"

That wasn't an invitation.

Nico Furukawa and Lin Oshido come to his table with ear-to-ear smiles. Nico is the second son of the Furukawa textile empire. He is extraordinarily ordinary. Lin's family history is honestly so complicated that even Kyoya cannot remember every detail, but by virtue of several aunts, uncles, and a few "times removed," he is somehow related to royalty. It's fortunate that it's complicated: there is virtually no chance of Lin ever ruling.

"It's been a while," Nico greets as they approach. He has a bit of stubble on his chin, and it's hard to tell if it's deliberate or forgotten. "Been busy, haven't ya? Not enough time for your old friends?"

Kyoya puts on a welcoming smile. "I'm afraid I have been. I hope my absence hasn't hurt you too badly."

In truth, Nico and Lin and Kyoya are certainly not friends, and Kyoya has no intention of changing that. In all their years attending Ouran together, Kyoya could count on his fingertips how many times they've talked. Nico is a perfectly fine gentleman, if not overly presumptuous about who is his "friend" or not, but Lin is older than Kyoya and he's the epitome of what every parent fears will happen to their son when he goes to college—except he's been that way since he was twelve years old. He prefers the company of hard drinks at loud parties. Not to mention being "friends" with him could lead to tension, as not too many years ago he caused quite a stir when he was attending the party of a fellow classmate of theirs and was caught with her older sister in a broom closet. Kyoya doesn't know how that turned out—he's stayed far away from it.

"So what's keeping you busier?" asks Lin. He's wearing sunglasses even though they're indoors. He lowers them a bit to wink at Kyoya over the lenses, which Kyoya thinks is the only reason why he's wearing them. "Your company or your girl?"

"Kosuke hasn't caused me any grief, I assure you." Kyoya needs to stop this conversation right here and now. Forget Kosuke herself—any conversation with Lin Ochido about women will quickly devolve into something that would make a lady clutch her pearls. "I'm simply keeping up my former responsibilities."

"Hey, remember to keep some time for her, alright?" Nico advises him. "Yui had to make me a schedule just to make sure I didn't spend all day doing work."

Kyoya nods kindly, though he knows that it's probably not 'work' that keeps Nico away from his fiancée. It was a well-known secret that when he wasn't out mingling with friends, Nico was a video game addict, not unlike a certain French student who'd arrived at Ouran during high school. Kyoya didn't want to get too involved with Nico's relationship, but if the rumor mill was to be believed, he and Yui had almost called off the engagement when she found out his video games were of the...not child-friendly kind.

"Hey, listen, Kyo, can you do me a favor?" Kyoya bites his tongue. No one calls him 'Kyo,' least of all Lin. "My sister invited Kosuke to her birthday party next week, but she hasn't said anything back."

Don't hold that against her too much, Kyoya tells himself before he can feel any annoyance. You know from experience how many parties, galas, and other events you have to attend to survive in this world. It's hard to keep up with them all. "I'll ask her about it the next time I see her."

"Great. Also, my sister wants to do this thing where she gives all the girls some diamond earrings with their favorite color, but she needs to know what to get, like, yesterday. What's Kosuke's?"

Kyoya thinks over his answer. He certainly does not recall Kosuke making any sort of implication to what her favorite color is. He does recall her wearing blue quite often, though. "Blue, I think."

"You think?" Lin snorts. He's the type of person who finds everything funny. "You don't remember what your fiancee's favorite color is?"

Kyoya wants to counter with Do you even know the name of the last girl you wined and dined? But Nico drives his elbow into his friend's side and scolds him, "Don't be a jerk, Lin."

"Alright, alright. Don't get your panties in a twist, I was just joking." Lin pulls out his phone-the case is decaled with a pin-up girl, which just seems like he's trying too hard—and starts tapping at the keys. "What about food allergies? I mean, Hana Isayama is going to be there and she's allergic to everything under the sun, so it probably doesn't matter, but still."

What all had Kosuke eaten at dinner? She definitely wasn't a vegetarian; she ate fish and chicken. Kyoya can't remember what, but something they ate had certainly had peanut oil in it, so a nut allergy was out of the question. Perhaps it would be easier to recall what she hadn't eaten—

"Such an attentive boyfriend," Lin hooted. Students at the tables look up from their work to glare at them. One of the slumber party attendees throws her hoodie over her ears to stifle the sound. He does sound like rooster when he laughs. "I should start a timer—Kyoya never takes so long to answer something!"

Despite himself, Kyoya can feel heat building up in him. He's embarrassed, but not in the face of Lin's laughter—he thinks it's impossible for anyone to care what Lin thinks of them. However, Kyoya has just realized that he's forgotten something very important. He has made a mistake, a miscalculation. He isn't known for doing that.

He and Kosuke had agreed to this facade of being infatuated lovebirds who are counting down the days to their wedding.

They just didn't bother to actually learn a single thing about each other.

"As simple a question though that might be," Kyoya says, with just enough of a bite to his voice to tell Lin he wasn't amused without being outright catty, "it simply hasn't come up before. I doubt Kosuke has any dietary restrictions, but if so, I'll tell you as soon as possible."

Lin snorts, and Nico scolds, "It's seriously not that funny."

"It is for you guys." Lin is still clicking away on his phone, and Kyoya is only now seeing that he's wearing leather fingerless gloves studded with diamonds. They do not match his shiny gold shoes in any way, shape, or form. "I wouldn't be sayin' a thing if she was some girl you just started seeing, but you guys seriously put a ring on it before you even figure out favorite colors and food allergies? Doesn't sound like a golden life to me."

Kyoya bites his tongue so hard he almost draws the coppery taste of blood. Lin's parents have never given him ten seconds of a challenge in all of his life. There was no company for him to inherit, no reason for him to watch how others viewed him. He had diamonds and gold thrown at him whenever he asked. And now here he was, laughing in Kyoya's face—the face of someone who only agreed to this marriage in the first place because the livelihoods of hundreds of employees and the roots of his entire family tree were on his shoulders.

Unable to stop himself any more, Kyoya puts a finger on his chin, squints upward as if in deep thought, "Lin, did I talk to you in the halls this past week? While we were going to class?"

Lin just barely looks up at him. "I dunno. Why?"

"I could have sworn we did...Anyway, could you send Sakura my wishes when you see her next? I know I already have, but more couldn't hurt."

Sakura Karigo is one year below them, the latest leaf in a large family tree of an automobile-manufacturing family dating back to the 1900s. Her parents would never let her even think about dating, let alone marrying, a guy like Lin. However, it was a secret to no one that she'd been head-over-heels for him for years now. She'd been scribbling hearts around his initials in her notebooks since middle school. It was also a secret to no one that they had gone out "as friends" two weeks ago, and that in their talking, poor innocent Sakura had mentioned her taste aversion for black olives. Then while she went to the bathroom, Lin snuck some into her pasta as a prank.

The night ended with Sakura being taken to the hospital, spending a large part of the night vomiting, and only being able to stomach chicken broth for two days. All because of Lin, the playboy, the "guy who had the ladies falling at his feet" (a title given to Lin by Lin.)

Lin's mouth puckers like he's sucked on a lemon. Beside him, Nico makes a sound—a cough, a laugh, it's hard to tell. All Kyoya knows it that he said his words innocently enough that Lin will look crazy to everyone in the cafe if he lashes out at Kyoya.

"Yeah," Lin agrees. "Sure, I'll do that."

"Unless—" Kyoya pretends to have just remembered something, and makes his face fall appropriately. "Please forgive me, Lin. I completely forgot about what happened between you two—I can't believe I could be so careless."

So, after their date, Sakura had found Lin walking the halls of Ouran University. Though she was now going to be getting some sort of treatment for her visceral taste aversion to black olives, she also wanted everyone in the halls (and perhaps all of Japan) to know what Lin had done.

"Hey, no, it's cool." Lin's voice is starting to take on the clipped, flat tone of a robot. "I'll just tell one of her friends."

"Really, I'm truly sorry. I can't imagine how humiliated I would be if all of my classmates heard me being called an 'immature manchild whose fashion sense screams of daddy issues and probably only walks and talks the way he does to compensate for—'"

"Let's go to class, Nico."

Lin grabs his friend with a shocking strength and starts dragging him to the door. Nico strains his neck back to tell Kyoya, "See you around!" Then they both head back out into the rain, and Kyoya is at last free to go back to his peace and quiet.

Yeah, right, he mentally scoffs. Now everything's just louder.

He's going to have to figure out some way to know Kosuke better, at least to sway any suspicion. He could make her some kind of 'answer' sheet'—what's her favorite color, any allergies, favorite food…birthday? Does he know her birthday? No, he doesn't, which—oh, that would be a terrible question to miss. It wouldn't answer everything, but he'd know more if he went against his father's word and looked into her background. Why didn't he want him to do that, again?

Kyoya decides an answer sheet would be best as he gathers his things and leaves. Turns out the trip to the café wasn't worth it, after all. He'll just have to get caught up tonight, or early, early tomorrow morning.

As he's walking down the hall, just another student in the current, he looks up and sees a flash of blond hair. Kyoya pulls himself short as Tamaki passes. He's talking animatedly to a classmate, hands moving about, animated. He doesn't notice Kyoya and disappears behind the wall, and Kyoya moves forward just enough to watch him go. He wonders if he's talking about the wedding. It's almost the only thing he talks about these days.

Well, that, and a double date. Kyoya has managed to dodge his texts for a little over a week now, but he knows he's running out of time before confrontation. Especially now that Kosuke is in the picture, Tamaki—and maybe the others'—patience for his periods of no responses will only get shorter.

It's not just Tamaki you have to worry about. If no one sees you and Kosuke together, it'll be hard to believe you're already in love.

They could decide to just make up stuff if anyone asks—"So what have you two done together lately?"—but if Kosuke says one thing, and Kyoya says another at the same time, that'll look more than suspect.

As he's mulling this over, there's another flash of blonde across the miniature courtyard. Past the water fountains and the rose bushes, Kosuke has some stapled papers in her hand, puzzled as she looks at them. She's wearing a lacy pink shirt and high-waisted denim jeans. Kyoya guesses she likes the high-waisted look.

A brunette student walks up to her, and though Kyoya can't hear what she says, Kosuke responds with a friendly smile and gesture down the south hallway. The brunette nods her thanks and walks away, letting Kosuke go back to her puzzling. For a moment, she turns to look back at the girl with guilt and regret. Clearly second-guessing her directions.

Just go ahead and get it over with. Kyoya takes a breath, grits his teeth, and marches forward. A darker voice adds, She won't turn you down in public.

Kosuke does not notice him approaching until he is only a few feet away. She tenses up as instantly as a deer that has heard a twig snap. The hand reaching into her satchel stills. Kyoya is not hurt, nor is he surprised. Their dislike of each other is crystal-clear now—sight of him alone makes her blood run sour.

Still, knowing that there is an audience, Kosuke composes herself. She smiles, tender and affectionate. Kyoya wants to say she has the look of someone seeing their beloved down pat, though given, he wouldn't be knowledgeable of such a thing.

"Kyoya!" She chirps his name short and sweet—the ring of a bell. Beneath it, he knows what she's really saying. Oh. It's you. "Are you heading to class?" What do you want.

"Just left, actually." Calm down and say your lines. "I hope your day is going well?"

"It is!" It was, before you showed up. "I've finally gotten an idea of where everything is now, so at least I'm not asking for directions as much. Or getting lost." She punctuates this with a giggle. God, I hate this.

Kyoya lets out a little huff of a laugh, too. "I told you, I'd be more than happy to give you a personal tour sometime."

Somewhere off to the side, a girl lets out the two-note "Awwww~!" Her friend swats her arm for being too loud, but Kyoya is thankful for the applause. He knows students are watching them, smiling, melting. This happens with most Ouran relationships—not just the official engagements, but any that is already implying 'forever.' Students coo and fawn and point at them almost as a blessing. Couple this with Kyoya already having a status of his own, and he and Kosuke are currently The (with a capital T) new couple.

Though, as a side note, not everyone is happy. Kyoya opened his case one day to find a letter from a former Host Club customer who wanted to tell him her feelings one last time. Alongside six others, all from different women. He thought it best not to follow up with any of them. Even now, some of the admiring gazes have daggers among them.

Also aware that their interactions have been stamped with approval, Kosuke sweetly asks, "Did you need something?"

"I wanted to know if you have plans for this Friday? I know school has been taking the attention of you and me both, but I certainly wouldn't mind a date. What do you say?"

The peanut gallery quietly reacts ("Aw," "So sweet, "She's so lucky...") and though Kosuke keeps her smile, and even widens it, he does not miss the flash of horror in her eyes.

A date. Together. Just the two of them. Actually spending time with one another.

Kosuke's gaze says, Why would I ever want to do that.

Kyoya's answers, Just say yes.

So Kosuke presses a finger to her lips, thinking—truly thinking. "Well...I promised my siblings we would do something together this weekend. And you can't break a Big Sister Promise. Do you think maybe we could do Thursday instead?"

"Of course. But we should all do something together sometime."

Kosuke laughs. Kyoya is the only one who hears the disgust. The sheer idea of him, her, and her baby brother and sister all being together as if they're a family...Even Kyoya has to ponder for a second if he went overboard, because the idea sounds just as insane to him.

"I'll ask if they can fit it in their schedules. So—Thursday?"

"Thursday it is."

At some point or another, everyone has started watching them, and now Kyoya is rigid. There has to be a big finale of some sort. The masses are demanding it, because this is Ouran, and everything is a spectacle.

A flicker of movement catches his eye—Kosuke is tapping her pinkie on the strap of her satchel. She does it again, deliberately.

It's just a moment, no more than two seconds, but Kyoya finds the rhythm again. He takes Kosuke's hand in his, holding it the way a knight in shining armor would do for his princess, and bends down to press a kiss against her knuckles.

There are sighs and coos and squees. The delight of the crowd seems to physically touch him like a breeze. Some daggers sharpen. Kyoya is silently praying that Renge does not appear to make this hellscape even worse.

Right at this moment, a breeze drifts down into the small courtyard, rustling the rose bushes and sending up a cloud of pink and scarlet rose petals to dance around them, which is just...Too much. Sickeningly too much.

Kosuke withdraws her hand slowly to her chest. She has summoned a blush onto her cheeks, along with another infatuated smile—the look of adoration. Her blue eyes are only looking at Kyoya.

And they are ice cold. I am going to scrub my knuckles with bleach now.

Kyoya gives her a smile of his own and walks away. I'm going to go tear off my lips with my bare hands.

The date was supposed to be normal—or as normal as it could be, given their current situation. Kyoya makes a reservation for Chapels, a fine dining establishment with two Michelin stars and a reputation of one of the finest restaurants in the country. It's so highly esteemed that every published critique of it was done so anonymously. Kyoya only manages to get a reservation because the owner is a friend of a friend of a cousin of an uncle, or something just as complicated.

He texts the address to Kosuke. It is the only message between either of them on their phones. His has auto-corrected her name to 'Kousuke' and for now, he doesn't care to change it.

It isn't really until after he books it that Kyoya thinks a restaurant was probably his best choice. Classic and predictable yes, but Kosuke has proven a passion for food and a fascination for fine dining, so perhaps she will be more at ease in such a setting. If not out of the kindness of his heart, he can at least prevent her mood from rotting any further.

He looks forward to it about as much as he looked forward to having his wisdom teeth removed three years ago. Just him and Kosuke, sitting across from each other, keeping civil only because they're in public.

Heaven on earth.

Kyoya has entertained the idea of just apologizing for the sake of getting past this already. He still holds that what he said was right, but now he can admit that his delivery was maybe a bit condescending—and Kosuke wasn't wrong to point out his hypocrisy. Then he catches her withering looks as they pass each other in the hallways, and he changes his mind.

The good thing is that even if he has slipped to a humiliating degree as of recent, Kyoya is well-trained in the art of being civil to someone he doesn't care for. He doesn't have to apologize, necessarily, just mind his behavior enough to not give Kosuke any good reason to snap at him.

This whole situation is quite romantic.

He books the reservation as he makes his way to work after school. It's almost a normal day; for him, at least. He travels around the building doing his typical tasks, following up with employees, signing his signature, writing notes down with his fountain pen until his hand is cramping. One of the board members asks him to bring him some coffee, which Kyoya does, albeit he's very tempted to throw it in the man's face because that is not his job. His largest task of the day is a stack of paperwork about a foot tall, a mix of requests, complaints, and reports. Someone has asked for a pay raise, reasoning that he's been a "loyal employee" for a long time with a proven good work ethic. Kyoya struggles to find a way to respectfully remind her that she's been working with them for less than six months and already has two markups in her record.

It all wears him down to the bone, but Kyoya is grateful for all of it, if it means that he at least stands a chance of being more than just the thirdborn son. He tries to mind his complaints, even if they're only in his mind. He really does enjoy this work. He knows that office jobs are often portrayed as worse than death, boring, slow as molasses, imprisoned in a gray cubicle tapping on a keyboard all day, but not so for Kyoya. It's familiar, an easy way to apply his skills. Probably not everyone's passion, but it is his.

One of the best things about this is that he has his own office. It doesn't have his name on the door, and it is quite small—the desk has to be pressed against one wall to allow enough space for him to actually get to his chair. But it is Kyoya's. There is a large window against the back wall with a view of Tokyo which, though not stunning, makes for as good a decoration as any. He has everything organized the way he needs, no one has access to it but himself...Most importantly, it is quiet. The walls are so thick that he can only hear footsteps as they pass right outside the door.

The peace and quiet distracts him from the crick in his neck and the soreness in his hand. This is his home away from home.

Half past three, his door opens without any knock, which can only herald his father—and Mr. Miyamoto, whose self-importance cannot be rivaled. Yoshio steps into his office with no greeting, no words, even as Kyoya stops what he's doing to meet his eyes.

Yoshio picks up his finished work and flips through it. The papers are covered in stamps and signatures—some with yellow sticky notes, which in Kyoya's language translates to something that requires a written response. Yoshio sets it down carefully, already being half a foot thick. Kyoya is halfway finished. He could be done by six if nothing interrupts him, but as something usually does, he could be going home as early as seven or as late as eleven.

"How much of this is urgent?" Yoshio asks.

He's looking at the unfinished work. Kyoya does not reach for it, does not flip through it. He needs to make it clear that he already knows everything within, without going "um" and "uh" as he awkwardly shuffles the papers to make sure.

"Requesting a quick response, perhaps, but not urgent. There's a CT scanner possibly broken beyond repair—that's the only one that I imagine could use a response no later than tomorrow."

"Give it to me."

Kyoya obediently pulls it out and hands it over, but Yoshio doesn't look at it himself. He sighs. "It will be replaced with an Amida Health model as soon as possible."

So it's already happening. He doesn't know why he thought they would wait until after the wedding, which could be years away. Their situation was urgent enough as-is. They'd previously had all their hospital machinery and equipment provided by other businesses they'd acquired over the years. Kyoya isn't sure how his father has handled such a change, but at least he's not the only one this time; his brothers apparently in the same darkness he is.

"You can take this home with you," Yoshio says. "There's no reason for you to stay any longer."

If he leaves, then he won't be on call to help with anything else, which Kyoya doesn't want. The shift from being here almost every hour of the day to being shooed out the door as soon as possible in unsettling him. It scares Kyoya to think about it too long. Giving him a chance could have been a lie the whole time—the past few months could have been nothing more than his punishment for what happened with the Tonnere Group. With the upcoming marriage, he has "served his purpose," and Yoshio can finally get rid of him.

Kyoya stuffs the notion away like clothes in an overpacked suitcase. He isn't going to slip up and let his fears take him over. He'll prove himself.

"I'd like to stay here to finish. I'll have everything done by this evening regardless, but if I'm needed, I'd rather already be here."

He hopes his father gets his point without taking it as rebellion. Yoshio watches him, eyes still behind his glasses. Kyoya hates these moments, these calm before the storms where he can only guess if lightning will strike.

"It's your choice," his father finally says. His tone could either be casual permission, or veiled passive-aggression. It's a tone unique to Yoshio Ootori.

His father turns for the door, and Kyoya hesitates. This is the first time he's seen him since he learned of the impending divorce. He hasn't heard from his brothers for any news, hasn't heard from Fuyumi. Everyone has dispersed from one another—as if each and every one of them is trying to erase the revelation from existence, and being apart helps.

Yoshio doesn't seem any different. He must have already accepted it. Jin didn't say when they decided to divorce, and as Kyoya tries to form a timeline in his head, he just can't quite figure out what happened when. Jin's "business trip" could have happened afterwards—an escape from the stress, or a celebration? Or perhaps it had been a business trip at first, but then she had some kind of realization in the middle of it.

If it happened just around the same time that DomenMed left, then Kyoya could have missed any reactions from his father. If he was angry, or bitter, or hurt, Kyoya for once wouldn't blame himself for noticing, not when he would naturally assume that it was because of their uncertain future.

When was the last time he and his father had a personal conversation? They do not have the father-son bond that would be considered normal—perhaps even alien in some perspective. Was it at his grandfather's funeral? Kyoya cannot remember the last time they touched each other, a hug, a pat on the shoulder.

Was it when Yoshio slapped him?

Kyoya knows that it's a matter of fact that they need to discuss this, yet it seems an unsolvable puzzle. They don't have these talks. Kyoya does not approach his father about anything in their personal lives, family or otherwise. They talk about their company, other companies, plans and people and events. He is unsure if there is even a way for him to ask after the divorce in a way that will not incur Yoshio's anger. Even in the best possible outcome, he sees the whole discussion happening in less than thirty seconds, with simple sentences and clipped tones.

Kyoya thinks all of this in the few sparse seconds that Yoshio goes to the door. He thinks about calling out to him. They are alone, no one is listening. They can talk. They need to talk.

Then his father is gone.

His pen is still in his hand, but for a moment Kyoya just looks at it, twiddling with the clicker and the grip. He might have just missed an opportunity, or he might have wisely held his tongue. He is either wise or cowardly. He cannot tell.

No one comes to interrupt Kyoya for the rest of the evening. He finishes his paperwork at six-thirty, makes a round, and comes up with nothing. For a minute he contemplates finding something to do, maybe even organize his desk drawers, or take inventory of his own office supplies, and thinks against it. He does not want to go home yet, but it'd be better than making up pathetic excuses to stay.

When he comes home, he's forming his schedule for the night—schoolwork, the Project, information he needs to check up on. It feels weird to have so much time. He may have to find something to do.

Does Kyoya even have a hobby? Unless making spreadsheets counts, he doesn't think so.

His phone starts ringing in his pocket as he's walking up to their door. He steels himself. If it's Tamaki, he's going to have to answer. He can't avoid him forever.

Thankfully—or perhaps not—it is Haruhi on his caller ID. Relief in dread fill him at the same time. It always helps to talk to Haruhi. Sometimes it seems like she's the only person in his life who behaves calmly, sanely. Yet, Kyoya is still fighting that stupid, immature, annoying feeling of longing whenever she's near. Even hearing her voice fills him with bitter-sweetness.

He answers on the second ring as he opens the door. "Hello."

"Okay, good. I didn't know if you were still going to be at work or not—"

"Kyoya!"

Jin seems to pop out of the fabric of space itself with a beaming smile. Kyoya hasn't seen her lately, either. Despite declaring that she will be living in the estate with them indefinitely—her belongings coming in a shipment of luggage that could have filled an airport—she has always been out somewhere or another.

She looks more like his mother now that she's not literally falling over drunk. She's dressed herself in sweatpants and a sweatshirt designed from a Parisian designer whose name Kyoya is coming short of at the moment. (Though he often chuckles, sighs, or ignores Haruhi's still-lingering disbelief at how "damn rich people" work, even he has to admit that the idea of sweatpants costing 40,000 yen is ludicrous.) Despite the comfy clothes, her makeup is as immaculate as ever.

"Hold on, Haruhi," he says quickly, before stifling the receiver of his phone against his shoulder. "Yes, Mother?"

"I fixed it!" Jin holds out her hand to him. In her palm is a bracelet of emeralds and sapphires linked together, only broken by the clasp and a silver nameplate with Kosuke scrawled in elegant writing. "Now you can give this to her!"

Kyoya takes it, knowing he'll have to clarify who it's from first. He can only imagine Kosuke's face, thinking it's from him. "I will."

"Good, good, good!" Jin turns to walk away just as quickly as she came.

Despite his troubles with Haruhi, he'd rather speak to her than deal with his mother's painful attempts at acting as though nothing has changed. She's been a ray of sunshine ever since she told them all the truth, oblivious that she's blinding them all.

Just as soon as he raises the phone back up to his ear and gets out, "Alright, what—?" Jin spins back around to ask, "When are you seeing her again?"

Kyoya presses his lips together before he turns to her again. "We're having a date this Thursday."

"Oh, good."

They both turn. Kyoya starts again. "I'm sorry, what were you—?"

"Where are you going?"

Kyoya chokes down a sigh. "We're going to Chapels for dinner."

"Oh, that's wonderful!"

He's almost made it to the stairs. No one comes into his room, he'll be safe there. "Haruhi, what were you say—?"

"You know, I'm friends with the owner's brother's daughter's half-sister!"

That's what it was, Kyoya's boiling mind snips out. He clenches his jaw until it hurts. "Yes, Mother, I know. Haruhi, what—?"

"Oh, are you on the phone with her right now?"

"N—" Kyoya stops. "Yes, I am."

"Oh, go on, go on, talk to her!" Jin flits her hands at him as if he's been lingering around for no reason. "Tell her I said hello!"

So Kyoya drones to Haruhi, "Mother says hello."

There is brief silence dripping with confusion. "Tell her I said hi, too…?"

Kyoya turns, but Jin has disappeared. Finally he can breathe. He doesn't know if he'll be able to reel in his temper if he's intercepted by anything on his way to his room.

"Everything okay over there?"

"My mother needed to tell me something," Kyoya explains. He presses the phone between his cheek and shoulder while he fishes out his keys to his room. The only other people with one are the housekeepers. He used to keep it unlocked, but he can no longer trust Fuyumi not to make a surprise visit and "organize" his drawers. "I'm sorry. I'm listening now."

"You're not at work, are you? It's not that important, I can call back if you are."

"No, I'm at home." As soon as he opens the door, the familiarity of the space washes over him like warm water in a bath. He goes to his desk and sets his suitcase down, as he always does. "Don't worry."

"Wow. I think that's the first time you've sighed in relief about not being at work."

Did he sigh? If he did, it's only because of literally everything else, not work. He's kept a perfect record of not even implying a complaint with his position at Ootori Medical so far. He is grateful. That is a fact that he will not forget.

"It's not work," he clarifies. He minds his tone—he's fallen into the nasty habit of snapping at the others for things they haven't done. "And I'm fine, regardless. What did you need to talk about?"

"Well…" Haruhi clicks her tongue. "I don't know if I'd say 'need'…"

"You didn't call without a reason."

"You're right, Kyoya. Your wisdom astounds me once again." Despite her words, there isn't any venom in her voice. Not much, anyway. "When's the last time you talked to Tamaki?"

"Yesterday, after class."

"What did you talk about?"

"He asked if my classes were going well, because he has to be sure of it. He wanted to know if I needed any help with my assignments for French." Kyoya pauses. "It's strange. I think this is the only time since he came to Ouran that he has a clear advantage in an academic subject that I could benefit from."

"Hey, Tamaki isn't stupid. Didn't he pass that Greek test he didn't even have to take?"

He decided not to address that he took said test because he thought he was cursed for stepping on a cat puppet. "Barely, but you're right."

"Did he say anything about a double-date?"

Kyoya bites the inside of his cheek. "Yes, but I thought that was a given and you didn't need to be told as much."

Haruhi makes a sound. A sigh, a laugh. "Well, do you want to? Because the fact that you haven't said anything yet seems to say 'no.'"

Kyoya tries to imagine it again. Tamaki and Haruhi, him and Kosuke. All sitting together, two puzzle pieces that just don't fit. It doesn't matter that Kosuke has become not just Haruhi's best friend, but an integral part of her and Tamaki's lives now. He just can't cope with it. His mind blinks the image off like a coping mechanism.

"I've just always found the idea rather odd," he semi-lies. "Dates are supposed to be time dedicated for two people to focus only on each other. It seems strange to have two other people there."

"Mm…I guess you're not wrong." Kyoya hears the crick of a chair as Haruhi sits. "I think it's just a different name for some friends hanging out, though. It wouldn't be too different from all of us hanging out together like we used too, right?"

Kyoya could not disagree more. Surely Haruhi realizes how wrong she is as soon as she says that. This is in no way similar to them and the other Hosts going on their misadventures. Least of all because Kyoya would much rather deal with the lot of them having to trek through an alligator-infested indoor jungle than this double date.

While he's thinking this, something else occurs to him. "Do you want to do this? I wouldn't think of it as something you would be interested in."

"Maybe I wasn't, at first," she admits.

Kyoya huffs a sarcastic laugh. "Is Tamaki finally wearing you down?"

"He's been talking non-stop about it, yes, but..." Another shuffle of movement. "I don't know, I think I'm starting to warm up to it. It's just hanging out with some people I'm already close to, isn't it?"

Close. Are they close?

It's hard for Kyoya to describe the relationship between them—that is, the one they have, not the one he wants. They have the comradery of two people taking a break in the corner while an insane party is raging in the room. They are friends. He's helping her with her wedding and he'll be Tamaki's Best Man. Still, he can't recall the last time they've hugged. It seems like months and months. Rarely do they talk about meaningful things, and maybe that has to do with Haruhi's eagle-eyed precision with such topics, scaring him away. She's the only person he can think of that he's never been able to hide anything from.

Except not being infatuated with her best friend. Apparently.

"I suppose," he allows.

"Plus..."

Haruhi stops herself, hesitating. Kyoya urges her forward with, "Plus...?"

"Plus, it would help both of us get used to this, right?"

There it is, the arrow that zips its way right through the armor. Kyoya's shoulders go stiff. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"I get that you don't like being surprised, and when you are, you try not to be. If that makes sense. You said you were cool with Kosuke and I being best friends, but I can tell it rattled you more than you're letting on."

"It's...been difficult to wrap my head around, I'll admit." Kyoya cannot admit to her how correct she is. He doesn't—whine. He'll sound so overdramatic and immature if he vents to her about how uncomfortable this is making him. "Only because it's so much of a coincidence."

"Well don't think I'm just taking it in stride," Haruhi laughs without humor. "I can hardly believe it, myself. Just...I don't know how to put it into words. I'd never seen you two in the same room before; I didn't think you would ever meet until Tamaki or I introduced you. Now you're getting married..."

"I understand." Relief floods through him. Even if he won't vent all of this out to her, he takes comfort in knowing that he isn't alone. Haruhi is...braver? than he is for letting herself admit it. "It's perfectly reasonable to be shocked about it."

"And..." Haruhi hesitates again. Trying to find the words, trying to mind her tone. "Just the fact that you two are already so...so..."

Kyoya's relief fades away at once. He knows that tone from a mile away. She's incredulous. She doesn't believe it.

Maybe it was a bad plan right from the beginning, trying to trick her of all people. Unless he can persuade her otherwise, she won't let this go. She's going to keep chipping away at him until he admits that not only does he not have any romantic feelings for Kosuke, but why they lied in the first place. She'll probably be annoyed at best, furious at worst.

Despite their current state, Kyoya apologizes to Kosuke in his mind. They have the same secret. Him confessing will be her confessing, and then she'll have to tell Haruhi her side of the lie.

If only to keep up the act a few seconds longer, Kyoya tries to lightly offer, "Close?"

"Yeah. Close."

She does not bite the words out. They're not yet dripping with the message of, "I already know you're lying, Ootori, just admit it." She's circling around the topic. Walking on eggshells.

Maybe she isn't positive, guesses Kyoya. He'll have to take that and run with it.

"You sound incredulous," he tells her. If she won't take the first shot, he will.

"Do I?" Haruhi lets out a short sigh. "Sorry. I'm not trying to be accusatory or anything...It's not like I can just decide that you don't like her—love her—but this is really hard to understand, too."

Love her.

Kyoya imagines the words in his mind: I love Kosuke.

He feels sick.

If he lets the tiny but feral part of him take over, then he'll tell Haruhi right now that she's absolutely wrong. Maybe he'll even tell her that she's the one he loves. She and her fiancé both.

He doesn't. He suffocates that part of him quickly. This is the real world, and doing such a thing would be unacceptable. It would ruin everything. Kyoya might have his fantasies, but he also has his predictions. Every single time he's thought about the realistic outcome of a confession, they are not happy. At best, she and Tamaki kindly turn him down. Tamaki would probably have many more poetic words than her, but rejection all the same. At worst, they are uncomfortable. They try to distance themselves from him. He'll ruin everything past the point of salvation.

More importantly, Haruhi and Tamaki are each others' soulmates, they're going to get married, and Kyoya is going to marry Kosuke to save his family. All other reasons are inconsequential.

So, to keep up this lie to the woman he loves, he counters with, "Is it because it's happened so fast?"

"Uh—yeah. For starters. You've only known each other for—what, a little over a month now?" She doesn't let him answer. "No, no, hold on. I'm not trying to dictate anything, like I said. That's fine. Maybe it's strange to me, but it's not a big deal."

He can't recall the last time Haruhi has tried to back out of a conversation she began. Has she, ever? She must be truly distressed if she's so conflicted about even talking about it. Perhaps it's just made worse with all the surrounding details thrown in.

"It does seem strange, I'll grant you," he responds. He can't just explode and scream about how much he loves Kosuke—that would be a whole storm of red flags. "I will admit to being...rather surprised, myself."

Haruhi pauses for so long his nervousness gains new life. He wishes he could see her. He's so much better at getting a read on people when he can see their faces and body language. Though he shares that skill with Haruhi, so it might be for the best.

"Really?" Haruhi asks. The sound of her voice is difficult to describe—surprised, cautious, but perhaps just ever-so-slightly relieved. Kyoya can practically hear all the thoughts bouncing around her head like pachinko balls.

Kyoya finally sits on the edge of his bed. "Is something wrong?"

"No, 'wrong' is too strong a word. Let me think for just a second." Haruhi is quiet for four beats, then continues. "All this time that we've known each other, you've never shown any interest in anyone. I wasn't like the others, making bets on when or if it would happen, what the person would be like—"

"They made bets?"

"—The twins and Renge, not that you needed me to clarify. Anyway, I didn't really think too much of it. It wasn't any of our business when you started seeing people, if ever." Haruhi's voice softens. "Some of the others said that you might be put in an arranged marriage since all your other siblings were, but some of them said you probably wouldn't since you're the youngest."

She says it casually, matter-of-fact, probably unaware of how the words fill his mouth with a bitter taste. There's a hint of relief in her voice, as if she held onto the hope that Kyoya would be spared from such a thing and given the chance to truly fall in love. Just at the cost of acknowledging that as the thirdborn son, he is all but useless to his family.

"But like I said, I didn't think too much of it. If it happened, it happened, and if it didn't, it didn't. Though I was a little worried when you got into an arranged engagement after all. I was worried that you were being forced to do something you didn't want to do."

"I've been raised my entire life to expect that I would have my fiancée chosen for me. Even as the youngest son, I could ensure a beneficial partnership for the family. It was only a matter of time, really." Any pride he'd had of keeping his cool saying that fades at once when Haruhi pauses once again. Wary that he'd talk so bluntly about the thing that introduced him to Kosuke? Upset that he would just accept having such a major decision made for him? Kyoya goes on, "I didn't mean to interrupt. Go on?"

"I'm rambling. Basically, even if I didn't think much about it, I guess I at least kind of had an idea of what it would be like. Even a tiny one." Haruhi swallows. "And I just...wasn't expecting it to happen so fast. Not for you."

Kyoya feels his eyes narrow even though he's alone. He sincerely hopes he isn't in store for another installment of Haruhi pointing out something about himself that even he doesn't know. It always rocks him to his core, which he can't afford at the moment. "I'm not quite sure I know what you mean."

"What I mean is...I've seen how you are with people, and you don't make friends that quickly. I'm not saying you're m—" She stops. "...Okay, maybe you are mean sometimes, but other than the Host Club you don't really interact with that many people. You'll be polite to them, but you don't really seek them out. You keep tabs on everyone at school even though you never really hang out with anyone but us."

"I still fail to see anything wrong with staying informed about my classmates. Everyone is connected to someone, somehow, and you never know what detail about their lives will or won't be important later."

"As you've explained before. Still, even before you starting your job at the company, you didn't spend time with other people. Not unless it was at a party, or a wedding, or something."

Kyoya clenches and unclenches his jaw. "I've always preferred the company of books to the company of people. I've been that way for a very long time."

Why was that? Well, a busy schedule, for starters. Mindfulness of his grades. Though he also supposes he does have some "checkboxes" that people tend to fill out—some red flags that tell him he just isn't interested in getting to know them better. Too eager to please, too loud, too gossipy. Sometimes it was as simple as personalities he thought would clash, and he doesn't think that assuming as much would be rude.

"I'm not trying to shame you for it, or anything. It's not like you signed a contract saying you'd be everyone's best friend. You know, you guys are the only real friend group I've ever had. I didn't really hang out with anyone in middle school and it never bothered me, so." Kyoya can almost hear Haruhi shrug on the other side. "Anyway, the people that you were friends with, I can tell it kind of took a while. When I started at the Host Club, we were around each other all the time for months, and we still didn't really talk much. It took a long time for us to really be 'friends.'"

"I suppose." Kyoya thinks back to his behavior in high school, and he doesn't regret much of it, if any. Now he supposes he does feel guilty for his often dismissive and outright snide treatment of Haruhi when she'd just come to the club, but that was mostly due to her being the person who'd costed them a potential eight million yen. If there was one thing Kyoya hated in this world, it was having a budget figured out to the last decimal and then having to go back and recalculate it.

"What really matters is that we're all friends now, even if it did take a while. I mean, we're all still together even though the Host Club is over, so that says it all."

"You're not wrong. Though don't think there haven't been times where I've regretted agreeing to Tamaki's idea of a club."

"You do realize you're preaching to the choir, right? Trust me, after the thousandth time of being kidnapped against your will, you start to lose patience...But I still loved the Club. Still do. And I don't regret meeting all you guys, even if it did happen in a weird way."

Kyoya almost loses himself in this conversation. Perhaps Haruhi has, too. It's honest, simple. Much different than any other conversations he's had for weeks now. Even so, this isn't exactly two friends just reminiscing about the old days, even if they both wish it was.

"What does this have to do with Kosuke?"

"Right. Well..." She clears her throat. "I guess the reason why I'm so surprised is that you've always taken a long time to get close enough to people to become friends, so the idea that you'd fall for someone in a month is just..."

Haruhi doesn't say it. 'Weird.' 'Ridiculous.' 'Unbelievable.'

He may have made a misstep in this whole plan. He's been aware from day one that he'll have to be careful about how he presented his 'love' for Kosuke, but he reasoned that with his behavior, not his history. He is calm, cool, collected. Anyone who knows Kyoya Ootori would know he wouldn't be the type to swoon and sigh and drool over his loved one. Even if he was in love, he would keep his composure.

A misstep though it may be, Kyoya is bitterly relieved that it is not going to be a difficult fix. He just has to reroute things a bit.

"I see," he says.

He intends to say more, but Haruhi groans again. "I shouldn't have said anything. It's none of my business. I was just..."

"Worried?"

"Can you be worried if nothing bad is happening? There's no reason to be freaked out about this...I should be happy for you and Kosuke..."

As her voice goes softer, guilt weighs the words down. Another reminder that he doesn't have Haruhi all to himself. She must be just as guilty for not rejoicing on Kosuke's behalf. Has she spoken about this to her? If she has, Kosuke must have done a well enough job that Haruhi hasn't seen right through them, but if she hasn't, he may need to give Kosuke a word of warning.

He can't lose focus right now. Kyoya clears his throat and recites the words in his head.

"I understand why you're confused," he begins. "You're right about me taking time before calling someone my friend. If I'm being honest, I was wary when we were meeting for the first time."

"Why?"

"Our marriage will be a partnership between Ootori Medical and Amida Health. Moreso than that, Kosuke is going to be leading Amida Health herself one day." He reins in the annoyance that threatens to seep into his voice. "I often dismiss people if I simply don't see us getting along in the long run. I don't see the point in wasting the time to get to know someone and be around them if I know a friendship isn't going to last long."

Haruhi considers that. "I guess that's fair."

"A union like mine and Kosuke's would need to work very well. While I'm assisting with Ootori Medical and she's leading Amida Health, we'll be each other's partners. We couldn't get caught up on our personality differences. If I noticed any 'warning signs' in Kosuke, I couldn't just cut contact. We'll be together as partners for the rest of our lives."

"So...that's why you like her so much?" She lets out a laugh, a little disbelieving. "You think she has good leadership skills."

"I find leadership skills attractive, yes, but that's not the only reason. That's why I began to 'like her so much.' Once I realized she was a hardworking person who wanted to lead her company as efficiently as possible, I was at ease."

I'm lying through my teeth. At least he thinks so. Is Kosuke a hard worker? He hasn't had much to prove that. She must have made good grades in school, and she likes to cook for her siblings, but he has no proof besides that. As for 'wanting' to lead her company, she doesn't have much to show for that, either. She's learned nothing of it, all questions frazzle her to the point of being speechless...She will learn how to lead in due time, but not because she wants to.

Haruhi hums, considering his words. "What about after that?"

"After that, I discovered she had other traits that I admire in people." Careful with what you say. She knows Kosuke better than you do, so she'll catch a discrepancy from a mile away. "She's very mature. She has her passions, but she knows when it is and isn't the time to talk about them. She plans for the future instead of living in the present. She's not submissive, but she's not abrasive, either—she can argue her side calmly, without devolving into petty insults."

Proud jerk, Kosuke's voice echoes between his ears.

Haruhi does not interrupt him as he speaks. She doesn't seem to have any rebuttals. Kyoya can't translate silence into words, but she seems to be in agreement.

"Yeah...Sometimes she reminds me of you, you know. She gets so caught up in planning for the future she forgets how to live in the present." She doesn't let him argue. "Was there anything else? I hear what you're saying, but why do you love her instead of just being friends?"

Kyoya is grateful that this is a question where silence would be expected. He truly has to think through this from beginning to end. If Haruhi ever decided that being a lawyer wasn't for her, then she should take up psychology, because she has a skill for picking people's brains apart piece by piece.

He has so little experience with this, and any conversations that had even broached the topic of romantic love in his life were not about his own. It's not as though he ever asked Tamaki why he fell in love with Haruhi. Did it even matter, when it was so painfully obvious?

If he looked at it from a purely formulaic view, what made storgi and agape and eros different? Attraction? Compatibility? How much time you spent together? How well you could see yourself and the other person working out in the long run?

Kyoya could try to explain why he fell for Tamaki and Haruhi, but he thinks he'd just be listing all their attractive qualities: Tamaki's unrelenting optimism, Haruhi's coolheadedness, Tamaki's instant care of others, Haruhi's unbreakable patience...Those are all the things that made them friends to begin with. There was some missing ingredient that led his feelings towards romance.

"You don't have to answer that," Haruhi suddenly says. How long had he been taking to answer? "What kind of question is that, anyway?"

Think of something now. Kyoya takes a step back, looks at the larger picture, turns his head side to side to see it at different angles. He can't answer why he fell for Tamaki and Haruhi. There probably was no answer to that question that anyone could provide.

Maybe the question was, how did he know? There was some point—whether it was when Tamaki asked if he'd given up, or when Haruhi stood up to his father in front of everyone—where he realized that he no longer considered them as simple friends. But how?

The answer finally comes to him like a bolt of lightning.

He just doesn't want to say it. Lie about it. Apply it to Kosuke.

"I've never felt this way about anyone before."

The other side of the line is so quiet that at first he wonders if they'd been cut off from each other. But then he hears another creak of springs, and Haruhi only says, "Oh."

Kyoya feels like bile is about to come up in his throat. He always knew that he'd never be able to tell Haruhi or Tamaki how he felt. He'd resigned it to be his secret to keep for the rest of forever. He hadn't even considered what he'd do if they outright asked him if he felt that way about him, because they never would.

Now, though, he has officially lied. Not just kept it secret, denied it. Threw the key in the ocean.

Why does it matter? Why does this bother you so much when it doesn't change anything?

Kyoya doesn't know. It might have to do with the fact that Tamaki and Haruhi are two of the only people on this planet that he would ever feel comfortable sharing his thoughts with, and this just solidifies that he can't.

He keeps speaking because he has to keep the charade going. Haruhi has to believe he's never loved anyone but Kosuke, the utter stranger with a terrible attitude who couldn't even hold a candle to either Haruhi or Tamaki.

"I don't know why. I don't think I can factually explain why this is different, it just is. I look forward to being married to her. I want to...be the person who makes her happy."

Please let that be enough.

There's another awful stretch of silence.

"I'm sorry," Haruhi breathes.

"For what?"

"Interrogating you and being so nosy about something that isn't my business." Haruhi groans the words out—he thinks she's hiding her face in her other hand. "I guess I thought you were pretending, or something. I just assumed the worst for no reason. Like I can't handle being proven wrong."

Though it seems he's gotten his green light, Kyoya still hesitates at 'pretending.' "Why would I be pretending?"

"You're really focused on how other people see you. Me and the others are the only ones you actually act like yourself around, y'know?" False. "You want to look good to people and be respected, so I guess...I guess I was worried that if you were unhappy about the engagement, you would just try to save face."

This is funny, in a way that doesn't make him want to laugh.

Haruhi has seen through their game of pretend; she just hasn't realized it. Why is romance the one Achilles' heel in her deductions?

"Well, I assure you, I'm happy. I apologize if I'm not clicking my heels and whooping with joy, but—"

"But that's not you, anyway. I'm such a jerk, I can't believe I just assumed all that."

"It sounds like it at least came from a place of concern."

"Uh—well, kind of." Haruhi sighs. "Like I said, I'm really sorry for thinking it, it's just...I've been around Kosuke for a long time now. She's gone through a lot. She pushes herself past her breaking point sometimes and doesn't let herself take a breath. We've tried helping her as much as we can, but she refuses it—she has to take care of everything by herself. I don't think she'd ever admit it, but she seems lonely."

Surely Tamaki and Haruhi can't be her only friends, Kyoya tells himself. Though he has no proof one way or the other.

Haruhi continues, "So when I found out her dad had set her up in an arranged marriage, I freaked out. I thought she was making herself a martyr again. We didn't talk about it all the time—she's been single for as long as I've known her—but she did mention stuff like when she'd start dating again, the stuff she looked for in a guy...I thought it would be nice for her to find someone special, not marry a guy just because her dad said so."

Though he takes this all in without interruption, Kyoya is conflicted. He's in the same situation, more or less. He's marrying because his family needs it and his father demands it. Except, Kosuke didn't have to do this. If she didn't want to marry a stranger or run a business she knows nothing about, then Kyoya can't imagine why she would agree to do so.

"Now I know that she does really like you, though. Even if it happened so fast. And I guess once I got past all the shock of it being you, I might have...felt kind of angry. If her feelings were real, but you were just pretending. I didn't want her to get hurt."

For a moment, Kyoya is almost jealous of Kosuke. It seems her personality has spared her too much suspicion. At the same time, he's both hurt and forcing himself not to be. Perhaps they should have just left their lie at just liking each other—not in love, not already infatuated, just on agreeable terms and not at all upset about their impending marriage. They went that extra step to try and give themselves an extra barrier for their friends to get through, but Kyoya probably should have expected some consequences.

He doesn't like that Haruhi would think of him as cold-hearted enough to take advantage of someone's feelings for him just to better his image. In truth, though, she's neither entirely wrong nor entirely right. Though he's never done anything like that before, he supposes he is at fault for his general history with others giving Haruhi such an idea.

"I'm sorry," Haruhi says again. She sounds angrier with herself with every syllable. "I'm sorry I thought that—I know you wouldn't do that. I can't believe I would ever think of such a thing. I should have never said anything—"

"It's fine. I'm... the shock of the whole situation just confused things."

"I guess, yeah. I think this whole thing just seemed to impossible to me that I've been looking for a reason for it to be wrong. Not just with you, either. Kosuke is a grown woman; she can make her own decisions. She doesn't need me to tell her what is and isn't okay for her to do. I'm not that great of a friend right now, am I?"

"I'm not angry with you. Knowing Kosuke, I doubt she would be, either."

"Okay, good..." Haruhi lets out a syllable, stops herself, and goes again, "Can I say something that's going to completely contradict what we've been talking about this whole time?"

Kyoya, curious, tells her, "Go on."

"Even if it's still weird to me, and even if I had these stupid, nosy ideas...I am happy for you two." She scoffs a laugh. "Sounds like I can't pick a story to stay with, huh?"

Kyoya is at least happy that she isn't in the room with him to see his face. He's not smiling back, not giving a little half-smirk to ease her tension. He catches his face in the glass of his window and it's icy; void of anything. "It's nice to hear you say that, even if it is contradictory."

If he lets some iciness slip through, Haruhi seems to take it as dry humor. "Yeah, yeah...I am happy, even if it doesn't seem like it. Maybe I never would have imagined you guys together, you're both really good people. I think that's why Tamaki's been so excited."

"To be fair, Tamaki has been pushing me to get married for years now. I think he would've been excited about me getting engaged to anyone."

"That's true. But still, if you two are already so close, then that's a good sign." She sighs again, but it's cathartic—the sigh of someone shrugging of a heavy weight. "Sorry again."

"You're forgiven."

On Haruhi's end, he hears a door creak open, then the unmistakable voice of Tamaki Suoh. He says something, and Haruhi replies. Kyoya cannot make out the words—he thinks Haruhi has her palm over the receiver now.

But he does hear Tamaki excitedly trill, "Did you ask him about—?!" crystal clear. Then he hears him crystal clear and very loud when he exclaims, "Hi, Kyoya!"

Kyoya pulls his phone away from his head, but he thinks the damage to his eardrums is done. "Hello, Tamaki."

"Did Haruhi ask you about—?"

"Yes, Tamaki, hold on." There's an audible struggle as Haruhi wrestles the phone to her, but Tamaki is probably pressing himself against it anyway to listen in. Haruhi's sigh ruffles in his ear. "So would you be okay with doing a double date sometime, or...?"

Kyoya at first just pauses to at least sound like he's considering it. While Tamaki's voice explaining all the things they can do together (ice skating! fancy dinner! amusement parks!) fades off, he once again thinks that it would be an absolutely awful experience.

But then he thinks it through again. Haruhi described it as just "hanging out" with a group of friends. Now that he thought it over, it was probably silly of Kyoya to think that a double date entailed staring lovingly into your partner's eyes while you hold their hand...and two other people are doing the exact same thing next to you. Double dates wouldn't exist if they were so horrifically awkward.

Despite her profuse apologies and reassurances, Haruhi probably still has some lingering doubts—at least because she, like Kyoya, still hasn't quite wrapped her mind around the whole situation. He could assuage her fears if he showed her more "proof," possibly. Kosuke would, of course, go along with the act. They wouldn't fall over each other, but they could make their...affection noticeable enough. While he's not doing the game of pretend, he'll just be spending time with Haruhi and Tamaki.

It will still be uncomfortable, definitely. However, compared to a night of sitting across from Kosuke with nothing to distract or interrupt them, it's an improvement.

"We have a dinner reservation Thursday night for Chapels. If you two want, I can increase our table to four."

Haruhi's easy agreement is drowned out by Tamaki singing with joy. Thankfully he doesn't go on too long. He just nails home the expected points: he's so happy, this will be so amazing, so on, so forth. Then he and Haruhi both say goodbye, and the phone goes dead.

It's only after he's stuck in silence again that Kyoya realizes he's still holding onto the bracelet. Kosuke's name glints even under the dim light of his bedroom.

He chucks it to some dark corner and leaves it there.

Despite being one of many buildings Tokyo, just one bead on the bracelet of shops and other restaurants that wind down the street, Chapels has taken the extra effort to catch the eye. While the buildings around it are made with glass from top to bottom, the exterior of the building has several marble columns standing guard, and the entrance is two massive doors exquisitely gilded in gold. Even from the street the crystal chandeliers are hard to miss. The experience of eating inside is like being sent back in time to dine with Victorian royalty. You'd be treated like royalty if you even worked here—Chapels was notorious for its utterly strict code for both its kitchen and wait staff. They accepted no less than ten years of experience to be a chef there.

I wonder if Haruhi's been here before, Kyoya thinks as he's standing outside. She hates it when Tamaki spends money on her, but she loves 'fancy' food even more.

It is awkward to be alone and waiting, and for a second he is once again (for the thousandth time that day) annoyed with Kosuke—and then stops himself. She's not late, she's just late for being early. She still has ten minutes.

Even as ten minutes become five, Kyoya is relaxed. He keeps an eye out more for an impossibly tall blond and his much shorter brunette fiancée. He spots them easily enough, right on the dot. Tamaki looks as immaculate as ever, wearing a snow-white suit as neat and pressed as an origami figure. Beneath it is a purple shirt and a tie exquisitely hand-painted with flowers. (Kyoya recalls from the twins that this is a style surging in popularity.) He's kept it simple but elegant, yet Haruhi looks even plainer beside him. She's never had the taste for glitz and glamor when it came to fashion—no matter how many times she's been coaxed into as much during her Host Club years. Her dress is lavender and knee-length, with sleeves that end just at her elbow. She has no accessories besides simple white flats and a necklace with a single pearl-and, of course, her engagement ring. Some might say that Haruhi dresses too simply too often, but Kyoya disagrees. She and Tamaki both look great and, more importantly, familiar.

Tamaki at least has the sense not to crush him in public, but he still pulls Kyoya in for a hug that is in no way called for. "I knew we'd get you to come around eventually!"

"You're victorious. Now let me go."

He does. Haruhi is looking around the passing crowd. It's not massive, as Chapels is not as large as it is lavish. She would have definitely spotted her blonde best friend by now. "Where's Kosuke?"

"She's...running late," Kyoya answers. It's nothing to get heated over. Everyone in the living world has been late to something at some point, rich or poor. "I'm sure she'll be here soon."

He has neglected to inform her that there will be some added company this evening. Why? Well, to be honest, Kyoya isn't quite sure. Maybe because, if anything, she'll be happy to have someone to talk to besides him. Or maybe he just wants to be a little petty and nip any plans she had of being snappy with him tonight in the bud.

"Maybe the kids," Haruhi says. "I know sometimes I have to pry Hitsuji off of her leg just so she can get out the door."

"It's no problem at all," Tamaki declares. "We'll just wait right here until she arrives."

After ten minutes, however, patience is wearing thin. The smile on Tamaki's face is clearly fake at this point. Haruhi's brows have knit together over her eyes that still scan the passing guests. As for Kyoya, he's trying his best to master the look of a man worryingly searching for his lover, and not like he's simmering with annoyance.

Finally he just can't take it any longer, and tells the others, "Why don't we walk inside and wait for her there? She might be embarrassed to see us all waiting on the side of the road like this."

"Of course, of course!" Tamaki links his arm with Haruhi's again. It's something they have had to practice over the years, considering how much he towers over her. "Shall we—Oh!"

But then he sees something or someone, and he zips in through the doors with a gust of wind in his wake. Haruhi is left reeling for a moment, but only sighs. Trying to stop Tamaki from pursuing something that has caught his eye is like trying to stop a dog from chasing a squirrel.

Haruhi falls in step with him as they enter. Whoever was the architect of the building was mindful to use what they had to work with—despite Chapels' relatively small size, the foyer somehow feels enormous. It takes Kyoya not long at all to see why: the walls slant forward the farther up they go, giving the optical illusion of a towering ceiling.

"Hey." Haruhi butts her elbow into his side. Despite talking to him, her eyes are regarding the gilded wallpaper and the marble tiles lined with silver beneath their feet—all with a mixture of wonder and annoyance. "You know I'm going to be flying out in two weeks."

He'd almost forgotten. Not entirely, but he hadn't been actively thinking on it. Haruhi would be going to the United States for her studies. She promised to keep contact with anyone and everyone, but she likely wouldn't be returning to Japan for at least a month, probably longer. Thankfully her fiancé was nothing but happy for her. He'd been excitedly encouraging her to study vigilantly and enjoy the States instead of weeping at the thought of being separated from her—another reminder that Kyoya maybe thinks too lowly of him sometimes.

We'll probably be continuing the wedding plans over calls, Kyoya thinks. Would she call me for any other reason? We don't typically talk just for the sake of talking. "I'm aware. Are you going to accept my offer of trying to get your passport photo changed?"

"No, don't bother. 'S not the photographers' fault I look like I just climbed out of the sewers." Kyoya tries not to smile, but he couldn't help a smirk when he brought the image to his mind. She'd had her photo taken early in the morning after a long night of studying for exams, and the result was a photo of Haruhi with eyebags so heavy they looked as though they'd pull her cheeks down to the floor. "Anyway, I kind of need to ask you a favor."

"What's that?"

"I'm going to keep talking to Kosuke, of course. As often as I can. Just...Can you keep an eye on her for me while I'm gone?"

Kyoya looks down at her, and she looks up at him. There's still a crease in her brow. She's still not used to this, but she's asking anyway. "Is something wrong?"

"Not exactly. I just think that sometimes you have to remind her to take care of herself and relax. I'm worried that with school she's going to start pushing herself too hard."

You know her better than I do, so if you say so...For a moment, guilt settles heavily in his gut. Here Haruhi is asking him to take care for one of her closest friends, because why wouldn't he? He's her fiancé and he loves her. It's not as though he can just tell her that actually, he and Kosuke hardly ever talk, so that's probably not going to happen.

"I'm sure Kosuke will keep herself together."

"You know, it's something that you guys have in common. I really admire your maturity and hard work, but I also have to remind you that getting three hours of sleep each night is not normal." Haruhi rolls her eyes up to the ceiling. "Just promise, okay? She doesn't have that many people who look out for her."

The word 'lonely' comes to his mind again. Kosuke seems social enough. She has to have more than just Haruhi and Tamaki. Or perhaps she's like Kyoya in that even if she knows many people, she can count on her fingertips how many she's close to. Besides, she has her father to look out for her now.

Don't speculate too much. "I promise I'll keep an eye on her."

Haruhi nods, a little relieved breath escaping her. She turns forward again, but just as soon as she does, her big brown eyes flutter and her head snakes back just so. "Kyoya, is that your—?"

"Kyoya!"

Ice comes crashing down on him.

Why.

Why, God, why?

"Over here, love!" Jin raises a hand and waves him over like a pageant girl greeting a crowd. Hair aside, she looks more than ever like the mother that Kyoya remembers. She's wearing a dress that is not only the rich green color of emeralds, but looks to be made of them—her tiniest movement makes the material shimmer, though there are no sequins or gems to be seen. A snowy mink shawl is wrapped around her elbows and clasped together at her front with a brooch shaped in a blossom. Each petal is delicately inlaid with diamonds and pearls. It isn't just her raised voice that has brought attention to her. Already men and women alike are regarding her with admiration and even jealousy, some raising their hands to whisper behind their knuckles. "You had me worried, you know. I thought you decided to cancel your plans."

"We didn't, Kosuke's just running late." Kyoya considers trying to save face here. He doesn't want to have even the hint of an argument with his mother with anyone around, let alone Haruhi and Tamaki. Then he decides that he just isn't in a position to accept this. "Why are you here, Mother?"

"Surprise!" Jin chuckles. "I hope you don't mind your party of two becoming a party of three."

"Will you be joining us?" Tamaki asks, not even trying to hide the excitement bubbling in his words, but why would he? Tamaki has only met Kyoya's mother a handful of times in his life. She wasn't known for staying home quite often anymore. However few their encounters, though, they'd grown a relationship not unlike his with Fuyumi.

"A party of five, then!" Jin's face melts into despair. She holds her fingertips before her mouth, onyx eyes downcast to the floor. She seems to be channeling the energy of Greek statues of beautiful women caught in the throes of woe. Thus, why she and Tamaki get along so well. "I just feel so horrible that I've been away for so long, I haven't even had the opportunity to meet my future daughter-in-law...What kind of welcome is that to our family?"

"You haven't met her yet?" Jin shakes her head with practiced grace—her chandelier earrings sway instead of shake. Haruhi's brow twitches as though she is forcing it not to furrow again. The two of them have only met twice before, and Kyoya can only guess to the impression his mother has given Haruhi. Especially considering she'd been missing all through the nuclear fallout of DomenMed. "It must have been an important business trip, huh?"

"Not as important as this. I should have come right away, and not wasted another moment...!"

Her eyes have closed in her picturesque misery, yet Kyoya can still feel her gaze pinned on him. Begging or perhaps commanding that he not say a word.

Then the picturesque misery blossoms to picturesque elation. Jin claps her hands together and her ruby lips spread into a beaming smile. "I know you're not fond of surprises, Kyoya, but I just couldn't wait any longer. Surely you don't mind if I join you on just one of your romantic evenings?"

Kyoya has never wanted to say no more than he has in this moment. Yet, there are people watching. Haruhi just looks so lost and is waiting to see how he handles it. Tamaki is obviously moved by Jin's words and is patiently waiting for Kyoya's grace.

Jin is still smiling at him, her signature perfect smile that exudes joy without showing a glimpse of teeth. She knows this is not normal, and Kyoya can tell. He can see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. She wants to make up for the embarrassment of not knowing her future daughter-in-law's own name.

It's such an odd thing to want to fix out of all these broken pieces, though. She won't talk about why she and Yoshio are divorcing, won't explain exactly why she didn't come home when she heard about DomenMed, won't acknowledge aloud that she apparently had so little to do with Kyoya's engagement that she didn't even know which woman he was going to marry.

Perhaps it's a baby step. He at least wants to be sympathetic to his mother, despite how many elephants she's led into the room. She should have already known Kosuke before, but at least she's trying now. At least?

Kyoya bites just enough of his cheek to be unnoticed. It just doesn't seem to be enough. This is putting a Bandage on a gaping wound and calling it help. But still...baby steps. Or even just a step. Is it mature to be angry with someone for trying to do better?

So, even though the idea of spending the night with Tamaki, Haruhi, Kosuke, *and his mother for a double-date-slash-first-meeting sounds like Hell on Earth, Kyoya nods and puts on the smile that Jin taught him. "Of course not. I'm sure Kosuke will be...ecstatic."

"Delightful! Come on, come on." Jin beckons them forward as she glides into the dining room. "I've managed to get us the best seats in the house."

"Go ahead," Kyoya tells them all. "I'm going to call Kosuke, see if anything is wrong."

None of them think anything of it. Jin scoops Tamaki to her side to talk about all the wonders she'd experienced in her travels, from the winding ribbon streets of Delhi to the neon empire of Singapore. Haruhi trails behind them, looking a bit lost, and Kyoya almost feels guilty for it. Hopefully he'll be back soon to save her from being the third wheel.

He wishes that going back into the night air would let him breathe, but it doesn't. Not when he does so to see why Kosuke is nearing twenty minutes late for their first official date.

You need to calm down, or you'll just repeat that first dinner all over again.

Kyoya takes a breath, feels the coolness fill his lungs. All of this is about appearances. He needed to be Kyoya Ootori, the man who everyone praised for his maturity, his poise, his charm. Awkwardness was a stranger, cordiality his family. He could never, ever be Kyoya Ootori, the whining child who stomped out of dinners and gave others the silent treatment because he wanted to pout about how his crushes didn't like him back. He needs to stay Jekyll, never Hyde.

Kosuke picks up after so many rings that Kyoya thinks at first she's the voicemail tone. She sounds far from enthusiastic. In fact, she sounds like she's climbing out of a deep slumber, her voice dragging and heavy. "Hello?"

"What's taking you so long?"

"Kyoya?" she says after a pause. She must have answered without even looking at the ID, because he knows she saved his number. "What are you…" She yawns so strongly her voice creaks in her throat. The sound ignites dread in Kyoya's stomach. "What are you talking about?"

"What am I—?" Instead of realization hitting him like a semi-truck, Kyoya just keeps going, keeping his volume low but hissing out the words between his teeth. If only she were in front of him, without anything to hide behind. "You were supposed to be here for our date twenty minutes ago."

The silence that follows is so long and perfect that he looks at his phone to see if she's hung up on him. Finally her voice resurfaces. "I…Okay. Okay. I can—I just need to change. I'm in my…pajamas…"

Though he has already known it, Kyoya still feels outrage in his belly like the stab of a hot iron.

She forgot. She completely forgot about their date. Now, twenty minutes late, she is still at home, dressed in pajamas and still fighting sleep. It will take at least ten minutes for her to get ready, and the ride to Chapels would take no less than twenty.

Kyoya keeps his tone collected, but he surprises himself with how much so. He isn't soaking his words with venom anymore, they're just there. Simple and clean-cut. "There's no way you're going to make it in time."

"I got—distracted. With school, and the childr—I'm coming."

He can hear her desperate flitting around her room. He hears a drawer slam shut, bare feet scampering across carpet. It's honestly pathetic. Even if the table was going to be for two as it was in the beginning, they would be close to an hour past the reservation now. There is not going to be any forgiveness from that, regardless of whether the owner is their friends' cousin's half-brother's son or whatever.

"Just don't."

Shouldn't you be happy about this?

He should be. He tries to be. He tries to feel a spark of excitement knowing that one of his four problems this evening will no longer be worried about. It isn't even embarrassment that's stifling it. He can very easily lie to the others and say that something happened with one of Kosuke's siblings and she needed to stay home. No humiliation, no besmirching of their names—there would only be sympathy and understanding. If he needed to be distracted from Haruhi and Tamaki, then he now had his mother to do that.

What is wrong here?Did he just want something to be wrong?

It occurs to him, as he listens to the faint crackle of static in his ear, what the problem is.

I wanted to show off to Tamaki and Haruhi.

Even as the notion triggers a visceral disgust in him, he knows it's true. Maybe for one reason, maybe for several. Maybe he thought that if Tamaki saw him and Kosuke together, that would satiate his hunger to see his best friend glowing with love. Maybe he hoped that if Haruhi watched his and Kosuke's act, it would ease her fears and apprehensions.

Maybe displaying his adoration for Kosuke was his bizarre, immature, and incomprehensible way of getting back at Haruhi and Tamaki for something they never did. He had to prove to them that their being forever unattainable to him was not going to haunt him one second more—despite the fact that they had never said anything of the sort.

"I can still—come. I'm…I'm sorry, I really did just forget. I'm coming as fast as I can."

The sincerity in her voice goes in one ear and out the other. Acceptance falls over him in an icy sheet—the same acceptance when he learned he would have to marry, and when he realized what his marriage was going to look like. He is angry, and bitter, and hurt, and it does not matter. His feelings do not matter.

"It'll take you at least half an hour, probably more. I'm not going to make Haruhi and Tamaki and my mother wait any longer than that."

"Not going to—Why are Haruhi and Tamaki there?" Something stabs him when he hears her say their names. It's a gross mixture of disgust and possessiveness. He doesn't want her to say their names so easily. He doesn't want her to know them. "And your mother—?"

"Mother" is the last word he lets her say before he hangs up. She quickly calls him back, but he taps the dismissal button the second it comes up. Kosuke's name blinks away from the screen, not to appear again. What's left is the dark mirror of his phone, and his portrait within it.

He hasn't given much thought to his appearance as of late. It never occurred to him to check if what was happening within him was seeping out. He thinks he should have horrible bags under his eyes. His face should have lines that weren't there before, and his jaw should be so tight it's painful to look at.

He doesn't see anything different, though. It's still him. Nothing has changed.

You still look like you, Kyoya tells himself as he puts his phone back into his pocket. The lights of Chapels seem ethereally bright when he enters again. Just keep acting like it.

It goes as he expects. He tells the others that something happened with the children, and she was so sorry, but she wasn't able to make it. Though Tamaki is instantly despairing, Jin heartbroken, and Haruhi unsurprised but still concerned, their understanding is universal. For the rest of the evening, it's the four of them around the best table Chapels has to offer. Jin regales them with her tales from her travels. Haruhi speaks of travelling to the States and her studies and all the things she'll do while she's gone. Tamaki speaks with the same immeasurable energy no matter what the topic, but also chimes in with his studies, his parents, the other members of the Club and what they are doing. They talk of the wedding because they can't not talk about the wedding. Haruhi sits across from him. Tamaki sits beside him, time and again squeezing his shoulder, or patting his hand on the table, all fleeting touches. His mother stares without looking at him.

Kyoya acts like Kyoya. It is the only thing he can do.