bored411: The actual mending of the relationship is so...close...thanks for holding on this long, lol.
Unnecessary P: I swear it'll be very soon! But I am an idiot, and I need tension!
Dally'sTUFF: *CLAP* COMMUNICATION *CLAP* IS *CLAP* IMPORTANT. No spoilers obvs but "communication is important" is honestly one of the main points in this story, haha.
lillyannp: Finally, after only 21 chapters of straight angst!
bbymojo: Seriously. Goodness, I'm the writer of this story and I'm looking back at the fight scene screaming, "just calm down and TALK." The make-up is coming soon, though, don't worry. This wouldn't be a romance story if the leads just hated each other all the way through.
The airport is a rather dismal place, in Kyoya's opinion. He has gone to one only a handful of times in all his years, by virtue of the Ootori family having its own private jet to travel the globe. If by chance he did rely on public air travel, it was for school trips, and even then it was with nothing less than the best airline Japan had to offer. Travelling to their destination was always done in the upmost luxury and comfort.
Kyoya doesn't think Haruhi is going to get much of that, just judging by the building. The seats are all plastic and metal and most definitely have gum polka-dotted beneath them. There is no one around to help with the luggage, so travelers are either pushing rickety-wheeled carts or straining with all their carry-ons. The technology is serviceable, information all shown clearly on the screen—but what is shown on the television screens does not warrant the smiles the speakers give them. They talk about the "comfort" and "ease" one will experience travelling in their planes, but the glimpses shown in the sliding shots all show seats clustered together like sardines in a can, plastic and easy-to-stain fabric, windows that look like peepholes. He knows Haruhi does not like to throw wealth around as she pleases, but why she couldn't just allow herself some reprieve, he does not know.
Judging by the twins' expressions, he is not the only one holding such an opinion. Haruhi, though, is completely nonplussed, ignoring her subpar surroundings in favor of her documents and luggage in hand.
"Do you have your passport?" Tamaki demands of her, as if he hasn't asked a million times already.
"Yes, Tamaki."
"Do you have your cellphone?" Kosuke demands of her, as if she hasn't asked a million times already.
"Yes, Kosuke."
"Did you leave anything in the car?" "Did you leave anything at home?" "Do you need us to run back and get something?" "Are you sure you don't want someone to come with you on the ride over?"
"Guys." Kosuke and Tamaki's mouths pop shut, and they both seem to realize at the same time that they'd been coming closer and closer to Haruhi until they'd formed a wall of worry towering over her. They both back down, sheepish. "I have everything, I told you."
"Good, good, good. Here!" Tamaki shoves a handful of books to Haruhi, the largest an inch wide and the shortest a mere flimsy comic book. She sighs, but shuffles them into her grasp. "I didn't want you to get bored, so I bought you reading material!"
"Thanks, Tamaki." Haruhi holds them to her chest with her passport, taking a curious glance to an automobile magazine with an attractive brunette stretched out across a car hood. "I'll...read them."
"I made you those homemade potato chips that you like, in case you get hungry!" Kosuke thrusts the plastic baggie filled with the salted, crispy chips to Haruhi, then just as quickly reels it back. "Which I'm just now realizing might have been a bad idea, because I don't know if they'll let you take them..."
Haruhi snatches them up before Kosuke can stow them away. She's always been a fine lover of good food, but it seems Kosuke's cooking turns that love into a ravenous need. "I will find a way."
"I don't care a tiny bit about the cost of it." Ranka pounces on her in her moment of distraction. Haruhi wriggles in protest, but soon the hot pink beanie is fit snugly over her head. Ranka had insisted over and over and over that she hadn't brought enough clothes for cold weather, even though the States would be more than warm at this time of year. "If anything goes wrong—anything—you call me within three seconds."
The twins lean around her trio of mother hens to chime, "You never told us if you'd be okay with a surprise visit or two."
"I told you I can't stop you from coming, but I'm not clearing my schedule just because you decided to drop in out of the blue."
"You hear that, Kaoru?" Hikaru clasps his cheeks in his hands, blushing by pure will. "She would love it if we came to visit her!"
"And she'll clear out her schedule just for us!" Kaoru trills as well. "Oh, she must miss us already..."
"Anyway, I should probably get going." Haruhi pulls her satchel's strap over her shoulder once more, and moves toward her rolling case. Her other bag was stacked precariously on top of it, reminding Kyoya of the dire lack of proper staff around here. "I don't know how long it's going to take."
"Bye, Haruhi!" Hani skips forward to pull her into a hug. She winds her free arm around his shoulders, which are not as far down as they were when he was...well, not necessarily younger, but shorter. "You can call us anytime you want!"
While Hani is taking her front, Kaoru and Hikaru sweep in from either side to sandwich her between them. All Haruhi can do is squeak as her shoulders are mushed into her cheeks.
"Try not to cry when we're gone," Hikaru coos to her.
"We promise this won't be forever," Kaoru fawns.
"I'm going to study law, not join the war." Finally Haruhi manages to shake them off of her, ignoring the twins' satisfied smirks and fixing the beanie that they'd shuffled around her hair. She sets her books and her passport on her luggage for just a moment to reach her arms out to Ranka and pull him towards her. "Bye, Dad."
"Bye-bye, dearest." Ranka twines his arms around her and buries his nose into her hair for just a moment. Kyoya would not say as much aloud, but it is...sweet. He's reminded that this is usually how parents say goodbye to their children. "I'm serious, any time at all."
"I know." When Haruhi pulls away from him, after a few more moments of bone-crushing love and affection, she only waves a hand at Mori and tells him, "Bye, Mori," which he is perfectly fine with and only responds to by a smile and a wave of his own.
Then she turns to Kyoya, and even though he's been standing here on these bizarrely sticky linoleum floors for who knows how long, he realizes he has no idea what to say. He thought it was going to be so simple to just say goodbye and walk away, and now he's realizing that there's supposed to be more to it than that.
"Take it easy," is what she tells him, pulling at her beanie once again, perhaps too big to fit her. "And try to get out and do stuff while I'm gone. Me leaving isn't an excuse for you to spend more time holed up in your room and signing papers."
"If that's what you insist," Kyoya answers. He puts a finger on his chin, feigning thought. "At least now when we go out to eat, I won't have to explain to the waiter what 'fancy tuna' means."
"Ha-ha-ha, you're very funny."
Haruhi is shaking her head still when she moves to Kosuke next, her arms winding around the blonde's shoulders while hers in turn wind around the brunette's middle. Something not quite pleasant stirs in Kyoya when he sees it. He hates to call it jealousy, so he'll mark it up as nothing more than the still-lingering childish inability to accept that they've been best friends for months now. Kosuke takes advantage of their proximity to pull the beanie straight and fuss over the shirt collar that's not pulled out quite right.
"And you take it easy with school," Haruhi tells Kosuke, firmer than before. "You don't have to call me every single day, just let me know you're alright."
"I'm not the one going to a different country," Kosuke sniffs in response.
"I'm also counting on you to watch over Kyoya. You and Tamaki are the only people who can actually drag him outside."
Kosuke does her part to quickly glance over at him and smile, like it's all a fine joke that they're sharing. Kyoya knows, of course, that the look is so fleeting because she does not like to look at him for long.
"I'll try to get him out of the house."
"Good." And as Haruhi steps back at last, the silky, monotonous voice that rings from overhead announces that her flight is now boarding. Haruhi scurries about, gathering up her things, calling, "Bye, everyone!"
They chorus back to her, "Goodbye!" and "Take care!" but her hens are not done cawing just yet. Tamaki reminds her to be careful around strangers. Kosuke tells her to properly rest after the jetlag. Ranka makes her promise over her shoulder that she'll call him as soon as she lands in the States.
Her shape becomes smaller and smaller down the glass hall, until at last she's gone, blinked away. Ranka lets out a troubled sigh, and Kosuke rubs a hand up and down his arm to comfort him. Then she uses the other arm to do the same to Tamaki, who's wearing the exact same expression of his future father-in-law: trying to be strong, but heartbroken nonetheless.
It's while they're all lingering in the void that Haruhi left that Kyoya realizes that among all the touching they'd done, the arms winding around shoulders and waists and noses going into hair, Haruhi had not done so with him. Neither had she done so with Mori, but she and Mori were not nearly so involved with each other as she and Kyoya were. To Kyoya's knowledge, Mori did not listen to her vent about the frustrations of planning a wedding, nor was he called for no other reason than to make sure he was okay.
Still, that's not them. He wasn't sure he'd even know how to respond if she had come up to him, because that was not established as something that they did. It would be like if she suddenly started calling him a nickname, like "Kyo" or something. Fine, sure, but what? Since when does she do that?
It's unlike her and Kosuke, who have obviously established that hugging is a given for them. Which is fine and not at all something that Kyoya should be disgruntled about.
"Well!" Hikaru stretches his arm out to his side. He narrowly avoids hitting a stranger in the face as they wrangle with their carry-ons. "What all do commoner airports have, huh? Do we want to look at how tacky the souvenir shop is?"
"No, we should go down the escalators again," argues Kaoru. "They were so slow, it was amazing."
"I'm kind of hungry," says Hani. He cranes his head back to look up at Mori, who is always going to tower over him no matter how much more growing he does. "Do you see any restaurants here, Mori?"
The younger 'Zuka cousin extends a long arm ahead of them. "There's a food court up ahead."
This leads to a small argument about whether they should really eat at the commoner's airport, because eating commoner food was always a coin toss for quality, and the odds were never made much better when public transit were thrown in. At last the twins branch away to at least scope it out, while Haruhi's fiance and her father continue to stare after where she once stood and Kosuke continues to comfort them.
"I should've snuck another sweater into her bag," Ranka frets as he runs a hand down his face. His foot twitches like he's thinking of charging through security to right his wrong. "She never packs enough of them."
"Don't worry," Tamaki tells him in the saddest voice anyone has probably ever said the words 'don't worry.' "I snuck in five more when she wasn't looking."
Ranka claps Tamaki's shoulder in a rare, blatant show of approval. Kosuke continues to pat their backs, and gives Ranka's shoulder a squeeze when he lets out a little sniffle.
"She'll be fine, boys," she coos to them, "we just have to be strong."
As she's talking to them, her eyes flit over to Kyoya for just a moment, then flit right back to nothing in particular.
This is something she'd been doing with a curious frequency as of late, and though Kyoya does not know the exact answer, he has a solid guess that it's simply guilt. They haven't discussed anything about the double date that wasn't, and in his opinion, there was nothing more to discuss. She seemed to understand that she'd done something unacceptable, and she apologized.
Now, should Kyoya just relent with a simple "all is forgiven" at this point? Possibly. Even he must admit to himself that any bitterness he's feeling about the whole affair now has little to nothing to do with Kosuke and everything to do with his motivations for the whole thing, as well as the appearance of the much-too-happy Jin.
He admits now, too, that he would not have felt any embarrassment in the first place if he hadn't invited Haruhi and Tamaki to join. He'd made his own bed in doing that. As for his mother, well, Kyoya had no way of predicting that. In fact, if Tamaki and Haruhi hadn't been there, he would have simply had dinner with a mother who acted like everything was fine when it wasn't, as opposed to a dinner with a mother who acted like everything was fine when it wasn't and also the two people he had to prove to no one but himself that he was not pining for.
He and Kosuke, though, they do not talk. They only recite their lines of love to their audiences, and besides that, silence. But now Kosuke keeps glancing at him as though she has something to say, yet she never does. In all fairness, when would be a better time, in the company of all their deceived friends, or in awkward privacy? The one and only time they have ever been utterly alone with one another ended in a screaming match.
While Kosuke looks away again, Kyoya slides his hand into his pocket, feeling at the paper within. His solution to the problem that was never solved.
What is your favorite food?
Do you have any allergies or other medical conditions that should be noted?
What is your favorite color?
In the space below, please provide a brief summary of all major events that have happened in your life thus far.
It seemed like a good idea at the time. Now he wants to burn it.
If he could just know why his father has forbidden him from looking into Kosuke's information, then his mind would rest easier. But he doesn't, so instead he eyes his computer every night and bites down the temptation to find every iota of data on his fiancée that he can.
Kyoya is too caught up in his thoughts, and the beginning of Haruhi's long absence, that he doesn't realize that Kosuke seems to be moving towards him. It doesn't matter, in the end. The twins both come skipping up like excited toddlers, and Kosuke turns her attention to them. Already she's accustomed to their fascination of all things commoner and already she is sick and tired of it.
"Kosuke, come with us to the cafeteria!"
"You know stuff about food, tell us what to get!"
Kosuke again glances to him so briefly the twins probably did not even notice it. "I'm not...really hungry right now—"
"But it's one of those things where all the food is inside those little doors that you open! It looks fun!"
"An automat?!" Kosuke exclaims with cheer, so suddenly it's as though someone flicked a switch on her. "Those are fun! C'mon!"
So she joins the twins, almost trotting herself, and Tamaki is brought out of his heartache enough to note the hubbub. "What's an automat?"
"Let's just go." Ranka gives him a little push forward. "The food probably won't be good, but it is a little fun, honestly. Come, Kyoya, let's get some meat on those bones."
They're all moving ahead with purpose, but Kyoya looks at his wristwatch, despite the many that are hung up all over the walls and ceilings (though considering the state of the place, he wouldn't be shocked if they were too far behind or ahead.) Already he is behind schedule. His own schedule reinforced by no one else, but he's behind, regardless.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave now," he tells them. "I'm sure there will be other automats to dine at. Goodbye."
As always, there is protest.
"Kyoya!" Tamaki tips his head so far to the side it's like to fall off his shoulders. He looks absolutely wounded. "You really don't have time to just eat lunch with us?"
"Unfortunately, I do not. Haruhi already departed five minutes after she was expected to, and I'm expected to be back at no later than one." Again, by no one but himself.
He bites his tongue when the twins chorus, "Boooooooo!"
"You used to like learning about commoner stuff," sniffs Hikaru.
"You forgot how to live, Kyoya," tuts Kaoru. "Don't you want to see another way commoners give up quality for convenience?"
(Here Kosuke asks, to no listening ear, "You do know that lower-class citizens aren't a different species, right?")
"As I said, I'm sure another opportunity will arise. Have fun."
There's one last protest, albeit from the last person he was expecting it to be from.
"You are going to eat, right?"
Kosuke's arms have been taken by each Hitachiin twin (apparently Haruhi's void had to be filled by someone) and she's just barely twisting around enough to look at him. He must say, the concern written on her face seems so genuine Kyoya is left wondering if it really is.
"I mean, you haven't eaten lunch yet and it's already almost one," she explains. "You should eat something."
It takes Kyoya blinking once, twice to catch on why she'd say something so suddenly. They'd hardly interacted this whole time, with all the attention on their departing friend. They should give their friends something to see, even if only so small.
So Kyoya puts on a small smile and lies, "I have a lunch meeting this afternoon. Don't worry."
He's expecting a smile of her own, bashful and tender, but instead she keeps frowning. Which may be better, actually. Convey the worry.
"Come on, Kosuke, your darling will just have to miss out this time," Hikaru proclaims, and returns to hoisting her away. She tries to keep up, trotting backwards. If she has to do this often now, then she'll probably end up like Haruhi, and just give up to being dragged away.
Kaoru also shows her no sympathy. At best he readjusts his grip on her arm. "Parting is such sweet sorrow. Now come on, we want to go to the automat!"
Whether or not Kosuke stares after him, Kyoya is unsure. He takes his eyes off of her, intending to carry on in his journey to his awaiting car, only to be stopped one final time by Tamaki exclaiming, "Thanks for coming today, Kyoya."
Tamaki says it so cheerily, so normal for him, but it makes Kyoya pause. That he would thank Kyoya for something that seems like such a given. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Uh—Work, I guess." His smile only falters for a moment. His heart is already mending after Haruhi's departure, which is good. Bouncing back instead of wallowing in his grief. "I'm just happy you found it in your schedule, that's all. Bye, Kyoya!"
He feels that Tamaki, of all people, should be stomping his foot and demanding that he stay, but he isn't. It isn't even so much that Kyoya wants that, but it's unusual, and he can't help but notice it. It's like Tamaki has admitted defeat. He can't make Kyoya stick around for their little fun activities anymore, and he knows it.
Tamaki turns around first. Which is also new.
As Kyoya walks back through the bubblegum-dotted seats and the scuffed floors, he feels something that he hasn't felt for a long time: a pull to go back. Every single day he's counting down the seconds to when he can return to work and fulfill his purpose, but for once, he really does want to turn around and join them. Out of nowhere, Tamaki's excited babbling about commoners' lifestyles, the twins' schemes that get their president turning red with fury, Hani's bubbly exclamations and Mori's easy silence—he misses all of it. Especially Haruhi's presence, the balance in all the chaos, which he knows will not be there.
Kosuke's will be, though, and he doesn't think he's ready for that yet. Already seeing everyone greet her and talk to her and joke around with her, so readily accepting her as a new norm in their lives, rattles something inside him. Childish as it is, he still can't accept that this is the usual now.
The thought pulls him to the paper in his pocket, which he withdraws, unfolding it in his hands. He has to give it to Kosuke so they can better keep up their act. And he should give her one that he's filled out, too. Even though this is not something that he does. If he can't use simple data to learn more about her, then he should be able to find his answers through conversation alone. He's always been so quick to come up with a plan to get what he wants, and this is not a plan.
So not only is Kosuke an alien thing trying to feel familiar, she's an alien thing that commands him to be someone he is not.
Kyoya balls the sheet up into a wad and tosses it into the next garbage can he finds. In better airports, the trash cans are swapped on the hour. Now he hopes that in this one, the paper will fester with all the sticky soda cups and food wrappers, where it belongs.
When he arrives at the hospital, he starts his usual routine. He could do it in his sleep now. Again, he knows that this kind of monotony would drive so many others insane, but he likes the predictability of it all. He walks through the doors knowing exactly what will come next.
Not today, however.
It's perfectly common for Kyoya and his father to intersect throughout the day. The hospital may be colossal, but they walk similar paths. It's almost like passing a classmate in the hall at school—utterly unnoteworthy.
So when he's approaching his father in the hallway, Kyoya doesn't think anything of it. Yoshio's eyes glance up at him without really seeing, focused more on the papers in his hand. But then his eyes come up again, and he slows to a stop. Kyoya does the same.
"What are you doing back so early?"
Kyoya checks his wristwatch, brow furrowed. 1:03. Three minutes past when he was supposed to get here. "Haruhi left at twelve-forty."
He means to say, I told you Haruhi was going to leave at twelve-forty, but sentences have to be re-structured in Yoshio's presence. One cannot imply, even slightly, that Yoshio has forgotten something.
Yoshio peers at him for a moment, lips pursed. "I would have thought you and your friends would have spent some time together after. Was Tamaki not there?"
"He was," he answers the obvious. He cannot say of course unless it is in response to a command. "The other m—" He rewinds his film. The Host Club is not a talking point between the two of them. "The others were there, as well."
"They immediately disbanded after Haruhi left?"
"No, they went to eat lunch at an automat."
Yoshio's lip curls just a bit. Kyoya chalks it up to the mention of an automat before he asks, "Why didn't you join them?"
Kyoya keeps his brow from knitting together, even though it's twitching to do so. Why is Yoshio asking such obvious questions? "Because I was needed here."
"There was nothing for you to rush back for," Yoshio tells him, with a bit of a sigh. "You had nothing scheduled. You could have stayed with your friends."
Yoshio walks past him, and gives a beckoning nod. Kyoya follows without protest. He doesn't think his father is even leading him anywhere, but a man as busy as him can only keep talking if they're en route to his next destination.
"I wished to resume my work."
"You're ten years ahead of anyone else here, Kyoya. You've done so much ahead of time that I wonder if you simply sit in your office with nothing to do." Kyoya opens his mouth to protest, honestly outraged, but his father continues, "Commitment is admirable, Kyoya, but yours is starting to look too uncannily like desperation."
"Yes, Father," Kyoya says, because that's what he's supposed to say.
He's not supposed to protest that he isn't desperate. He's not supposed to protest that he's proving himself as a valued member of the business, not just sitting around in his office all day. He's not supposed to protest that yes, he's trying to prove himself to Yoshio, because that's what Yoshio told him to do.
"Your determination to spend every waking minute of the day here isn't even an issue," Yoshio goes on. It almost sounds like a backtrack, but it's Yoshio Ootori, so it can't be. "It's your antisocial behavior. If you keep going like this, you will offend someone we can't afford to offend. Not to mention others will start viewing you as pompous instead of proud, never having a moment of the day to spend with someone else."
Antisocial behavior? Because I didn't eat at a crusty airport automat with my friends?
This time Yoshio just barely turns his head in his direction, not far enough to look at Kyoya behind him, but there's no need. It's a cue to give an answer, not just agree.
"I wasn't aware that I was behaving as much."
"I asked our home staff when the last time you left for a reason besides school or work was, and they couldn't give an answer. Apparently you receive quite a number of invitations from your peers to birthday gatherings and similar celebrations, yet each and every time you only pen out a polite apology that you won't be attending."
Kyoya grits his teeth, but isn't outraged. It's not as though their staff spies on him to report to Yoshio, but if he asked, then they were going to answer. He is more focused on rewinding time to recall just how many invitations he'd refused lately. It only seemed like an occasional one, every now and then, but many times had that 'one' multiplied?
"I can only assume how long it's been since you and your Host friends have been together, not including today."
This time he hesitates to answer—due in no small part to hearing Yoshio say 'Host' without disdain or disgust. Moreso, there's just a slight shift in tone as he mentions them. It's not the same one as when he spoke of the nameless and countless other students of Ouran. If Kyoya squinted hard enough, it would almost sound like concern.
"We've remained in contact, even if not in person," he tries, almost fumbling but not quite. "I've been assisting Tamaki and Haruhi in their wedding preparations. We were all just together for a party they threw—"
"A surprise party."
Right.
Kyoya feels his fingers twitching at his side. When...was the last time he and the others got together, just to do so?
Yoshio continues, "In the past three weeks, I have attended an engagement party, a wedding, and an anniversary ball. I could not count how many times I've met an old face for lunch, for no other reason than to talk about our children and our latest vacations, or even just the weather. I do that because the last thing I need is anyone thinking that I sneer down my nose at them. Being part of Ootori Medical is not just about coming to the hospital to sign papers and attend meetings all day. It's about preserving your ties, however insignificant they may seem, because you never know when they will be anything but."
"Yes, Father," Kyoya says, not just because that's what he's supposed to say, but because he's right.
So often did he stress the importance of one's image, and so long did he neglect his. He had not noticed any of his classmates treating him differently, but it could be that he just wasn't around to see it. Did they now whisper that Kyoya never talked to anyone anymore, that he was pompous and too good for them all? When were people going to start sending invitations to their balls and parties and galas, think of sending one to him, then decide no, Kyoya Ootori wouldn't come anyway, there's no need to?
"Moreover, when was the last time you and Kosuke spent time together?"
Whatever you do, don't let him know that there has been a first time, let alone a last time.
"We were going to Chapels with Haruhi and Tamaki on a—double date." As he says it, Kyoya feels something like shame creeping up his neck. Just saying "double date" to his father just seems so wrong, so childish. Like if he called Tamaki his bestie. "Something came up with one of her siblings, however."
"And when was that?"
"Two weeks ago, Father."
He doesn't realize how wrong of an answer that was until Yoshio turns to him with a very flat look. Two weeks without any time together, whether it be a "date" or not. How sweet. Surely, a romance for the ages.
Truly, Kyoya hadn't realized that it had been that long. He could have sworn that it was just yesterday that Kosuke started at Ouran.
Yoshio pushes his glasses up his nose with his ring finger. "Kyoya, regardless of how head-over-heels you two may be for one another—"
He sighs the words out, and Kyoya can't place it. Does he believe it, and is just dismissing a poor excuse? Or has he not bought this for a single moment, and is letting Kyoya know that he's not keeping up this image well? He had outright scolded Kyoya for how he'd behaved at their first dinner. Surely a man as smart as him would be wary of such a change.
"—you still need to spend time together. I refuse to believe that you know as much about her as you should, however you feel about her. Do you really need me to tell you to spend time with your fiancée?"
"No, Father."
Yoshio rolls his shoulders back and finally stops in front of the stairwell door. "First and foremost, you and Kosuke need to be together more often. At least twice a week, though I'm sure you are more than capable of doing more."
Kyoya nods, swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth. He's already being told to take a step back from his work, which were the exact last words he wanted to hear today (or ever). Perhaps that will give him more time to be with the others now, but as for spending it with Kosuke…Well, Kyoya can think of better uses for his time.
But…he will do as he is told. Of course, Yoshio will know if he disobeys him. So he'll have a date with Kosuke at least twice a week. And probably remind her of each one over and over again just to ensure she doesn't forget this time.
"Second, I am sure you have heard of Madame Nagata's son's plans for this weekend."
Kyoya did. The buzz of it had been in the air of Ouran for the past week. Madame Nagata's grandmother had purchased the land that was now Nagata Park—over a thousand acres of sprawling mountain greens, for no other reason besides preserving it. It was public, but once a year one of the main campgrounds was reserved for Etsuo Nagata, the current heir of the Nagata clan, to invite any and all of his classmates for a weekend camping excursion.
Tamaki has been an annual attendee, and though he has lately been emphasizing just how fun and great and exciting it all is, never does he actually try to ask Kyoya to tag along. Even Tamaki understands that spending the night outside in the sweaty heat, swarmed with bugs, was not his idea of 'fun.' In any sense of the word.
"Yes, Father."
"You should take part in it. I'll take care of whatever you have scheduled for this weekend. It's a fine opportunity to reassure your peers that you aren't too good for them."
A thousand protests bubble up in Kyoya's throat.
But they don't come out.
"Yes, Father."
"I have many things to be concerned with at the moment, Kyoya." Yoshio opens the door, steps in, and leers down at Kyoya through the closing gap. "Telling you how to function shouldn't be one of them."
Thus, Kyoya's weekend plans are obliterated. And now he gets to go camping.
He doesn't want to say that he is fuming. Or pouting. He's a grown man, and he was just told to go on a trip with his classmates; he isn't about to cry over that.
Still, even if he was working far and beyond past what he needed to do, that has become his normal, so now he feels as though he's falling behind. And he feels childish, on top of that. Akito and Yuuichi don't go to the woods to make s'mores and tell ghost stories, do they?
But. He packs his suitcase (several times because what, exactly, do you take on a camping trip?) and calls Etsuo to tell him he's coming, are there any more cabin rooms available? Because Kyoya would be more comfortable with a roof over his head (instead of a tent, surrounded by bugs, and dirt, and worms.)
The last two days leading to the weekend go so slowly without work. After their conversation, Kyoya knows his father will be less than happy if Kyoya still stays past when he's needed, so he comes home earlier each night. And sitting in his room, not allowed to do anything meaningful, and without a Host Club to occupy his free time, he's again reminded that he doesn't really have any hobbies.
The ride over is a silent one, and Kyoya is alone with his thoughts as the buildings of the city metamorphosize to trees. Though, Kyoya has to admit that even if he isn't (isn't) looking forward to this weekend, Nagata Park is nothing short of beautiful.
He can see why the former family matriarch was moved to buy the land. The view may not be as splendid as the one from Mt. Fuji, but it's a view nonetheless. The green horizon goes on and on until the blue sky slices it off, and the clouds that lazily sweep through the air look as though they've been painted. Even just the sunlight filtering through the trees is somehow relaxing, as are the creeks and streams that snake between them, quietly trickling. The land has been upkept with great care. There's no litter spotting the grass, or initials carved into every surface (a problem that he was sorry to say plagued Karuizawa when he visited). For a time the only signs of civilization are the signs that gently guide towards trails and overlooks. He supposes he can see some worth in land not touched by man.
Then he comes to the campground, and all the hustle and bustle just burst out from the trees. It is already sprawling not just with Ouran students, but their families, too, little siblings and baby cousins, dressed in their shorts and hiking boots. Kyoya has not seen some of them, so he marks them up as non-Ouran family friends. Tents are everywhere, popping up in hills of every color, only interrupted by the fire pits. Somewhere among the trees and their winding stone paths are cabins, but the lodge stands just behind the campsite, the castle beyond the courtyard. It's a long building, the center a great pyramid of wood and glass, and even through the front Kyoya can see the sprawling woodland view that it overlooks. He counts his blessings for more reasons than one that he was able to get a room inside even at such short notice.
As he steps out into the mountain air, Kyoya can't shake the feeling that he's forgetting something, but he chalks it up to a lack of preparation for the outdoors, nothing else.
Then he remembers what it was.
"KYOYA!" Tamaki drops the giant bags in his hands and runs over to him, as if he hasn't seen him in years. Kyoya hadn't even noticed him standing out in the sunlight. He tries not to notice that Tamaki has sprayed just a little too much repellant on his skin. Or how his tank is leaving every inch of his slender arms exposed. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"
Kyoya doesn't want to tell him that he forgot, because that will undoubtedly hurt his feelings, so he instead states, "Surprise."
"Yes, it is! Oh, here, let me help you." Tamaki picks up Kyoya's bags despite his own still being on the ground. Not to mention the backpack roughly the size of Japan he's carrying. He's not the only one. Plenty of others are dressed like they took their notions of what a camper looks like from cartoons. "Where's your lot? Where are you setting up?"
"I'm not," Kyoya tells him, and manages to wrangle his bags back. Tamaki is surprisingly strong. Or maybe not surprisingly. All those hugs... "I'm going to be in the lodge."
"Oh, Kyoya!" Tamaki pouts and folds his arms across his chest. "You're going to miss out on the true camping experience!"
"Yes, that's the point. I don't much care for bugs and dirt."
"Suit yourself. But you will be joining us for everything else. Hikaru, Kaoru, look who showed up!"
From seemingly nowhere come the twins in question, also dressed in hiking gear of T-shirts and cargo shorts. Kyoya immediately notes the bandanas wrapped around their biceps—Hikaru's red, Kaoru's blue. Though their smiles are as promising of mischief as always, they do seem genuinely happy to see him here.
"I can't believe you're here for once," Hikaru exclaims. "I thought it was too bright up here for you. Do you want us to find a shadowy place for you to lurk in for a while?"
"You two are so very charming."
"Hey, I am happy that you're here," protests Kaoru. But of course, he then shields his hand behind his mouth and says, "and you can take as much of my sunblock as you need. I know your vampire skin is going to need a lot for this weekend."
"What I would very much like to do now is get my stuff to my room." Kyoya heaves up his bags again. "Then I can come back and keep ignoring you."
"No, no, let us take care of it!" Hikaru tugs off his over-shoulder bag so suddenly he almost sends Kyoya's glasses to the dirt. "You need to go help the Red Team in the Nature Knowledge challenge!"
"No, the blue team!" Kaoru wrestles his other bags away from him. He's pinning Kyoya down with a look that's both ferocious and pleading. "You would be our trump card!"
"Red Team? I wasn't told there were going to be any 'teams,' or challenges, for that matter."
"It's all for fun, Kyoya!" Tamaki reaches into his pocket and pulls out a red bandana of his own, but fumbles to tie it around his bicep. Kyoya sighs and takes to it himself. "Us and some others are doing a Red vs. Blue competition! Throughout the weekend we'll have a ton of fun challenges to do! The team who succeeds in the most challenges wins!"
"Wins what?"
The twins answer together. "The right to rub it in the other team's face."
Kyoya hums a bit unhappily, not just because the bandana is made of an unwisely slick material that's slipping too easily. His one silver lining of this whole thing was that between socializing among his peers again, he'd be kept to the comfort of his lodge and the mountain view. "As enticing as it sounds, I think I would rather spend my time up here quietly. It's been some time since I've been to the mountains, I'd forgotten how calming it can be."
Tamaki's face falls, of course, but what really gets right underneath Kyoya's skin is Hikaru suddenly blowing a quick, hard raspberry. "Riiiight. Totally not code for 'locked up in my room and ignoring everyone.'"
"I bet you he probably has his entire office tucked away in here." Hikaru and Kaoru turn on their heels to saunter away with his things (did he even tell him his room number?) and though Kaoru tries to whisper, his words go right to Kyoya's ears. "Why did he come in the first place?"
Kyoya's teeth grind together. First his father, now the twins. Keeping up a social image, he understood. But acting as though being dedicated and hardworking is some kind of crime…He's not going to listen to this the whole weekend.
"You know what?" Kyoya tightens up the knot on the bandana ("Ow," Tamaki protests.) and pushes up his glasses. "I think I'll join in on this competition after all. It sounds like a nice change of pace."
"Yay, Kyoya!" Instantly Tamaki grabs a hold of his arm and tugs him. "Red Team!"
"No, Kyoya, you have to join the Blue Team," protests Kaoru. "The Red Team is leading and we need someone like you!"
"We're leading because we're better." Hikaru throws an arm around Tamaki's shoulders—no small feat, considering the blond's height—and pulls down his eyelid at his brother. A sight that used to be quite rare. "And I bet Kyoya knows it."
"Blue Team, Kyoya." Kaoru is already walking backwards to the lodge, and Hikaru follows. "You will lead us to victory!"
As they go, and Tamaki pulls him away, Kyoya feels a pang of guilt for getting so annoyed in the first place. He knows that they probably just missed him, and when they used to hang out on a nigh-daily basis. It wasn't as though spending a weekend with his friends was some kind of death sentence.
Even furthering his guilt—but also his pleasant surprise—is seeing all the faces that turn to him and light up as Tamaki leads him through the campground. "Kyoya!" he hears people exclaim. "I didn't think you were coming!" "It's been a while!" "It's good to see you!"
True, he'd never been the social butterfly that Tamaki was, and outside of the Host Club he couldn't name anyone he'd call a friend, but it brings Kyoya back to his schooldays, when this was his morning routine. Walking down the halls, greeting his classmates and them greeting him back, all sincere. He sees so many familiar faces, and with each one he imagines one of the invitations he'd thrown to the trash.
If only you could do this and keep going as you are at Ootori Medical, he thought. If only there were more hours in the day…
Then, he decides that he will take this slowly. He won't wallow in how unfair these new circumstances are. He'll be here with his friends and his classmates for this weekend, enjoy his time, and then he'll take it from there.
Tamaki leads him further into the campground until they find a great group of people, all adorned in red and blue and buzzing with excitement. Tamaki shouts, "Hey everyone! Kyoya's here!" And again there's another trill of greeting and surprise, and Kyoya smiles without really trying to.
"Kyoya, are you joining the competition?" someone in the crowd asks.
"Red Team! Join the Red Team!" "No, Blue!" "Red Team, Kyoya!" "Pick the Blue Team!"
Momoka comes from the crowd holding a red bandana and a blue one, and extends both to him. Tamaki is nodding him on, and perhaps just because he wants to tease the prince, Kyoya takes the blue bandana. Immediately there are whoops of joy and groans of despair. Tamaki steps away from him, sulking. From inside the crowd, Hani waves his blue-bound hand and cheers, "Yay, we got Kyoya!" Mori, also blue, gives a very neutral thumbs-up and Reiko, donned red, only nods.
And, of course, who better to lead the competition?
"Alright, alright, enough lollygagging!" Renge's voice bellows out, helped quite a bit by her signature microphone—and, like always, Kyoya can't tell where the speakers are. Renge is dressed more like she's on a safari than a camping trip, with a pith helmet and hiking boots with soles three inches think. He wonders if she bought them just for the trip, or if it's cosplay gear she had on hand already. "Blue Team, who's your player this round?"
Suddenly hands are grabbing at Kyoya, pulling him in and tying on his bandana at the same time, all while his name is chanted over and over and over until finally he stands before Renge. She smiles, satisfied.
"A wise choice! Red Team, your player?"
Kazukiyo is nudged forward, and behind him his teammates whoop and applaud. Renge's response is a much less enthusiastic, "I guess that's fine"—the former club president looking quite offended after.
"Both of you, to your stations!"
In the small clearing there are two tables set up back-to-back, with a small fence between them. On them there are two rows—the left holding various vases of plants, some green and leafy, others pleasant flowers. The right row has flashcards with two different words: POISONOUS and SAFE.
"Alright, boys. There are three rounds, and you'll each have thirty seconds to match the plants with their descriptors. The person who gets the most matches wins. Teammates, no calling out answers!"
Kyoya sizes up the work and feels rather confident. His thumb may not be green, but he thinks Kazukiyo has met his match.
"Ready…Set…Go!"
Answers are not called out to him, but there is a ruckus regardless, as teammates of both colors whoop and cheer for their players. Kyoya can barely hear his own thoughts over the screams of "Go, go, go!" and "You can do it!"
As he starts setting words to pictures, something—something—pulls Kyoya's eye away and to the campground just barely visible through the throng. The tents of many colors are still there. Students are still walking amongst them and the firepits, laughing and mingling. Among the familiar face is one that's not familiar enough.
Kosuke has a park map unfolded in front of her, brow furrowed quizzically, sneakers treading on without much attention. Only when she almost walks right into a firepit does she stop, looking quite embarrassed for a moment, before pulling the map closer. Her hair is tied back in a messy ponytail, and Kyoya thinks he sees something glinting on her ring finger, but she's too far away to tell. She has not seem him yet.
"Kyoya, come on! Fifteen seconds left!"
Kyoya snaps back to attention and finishes up his matching without even thinking (though he's still confident in them). There's no reason to be surprised that Kosuke is here. Probably someone invited her—if not Tamaki, then maybe one of the many students who have congratulated him for such a nice and friendly fiancée. And he should be grateful, too, to have the opportunity to obey his father's orders and spend more time with her.
Yet, that's the only silver lining he can find. Obedience. He may hate giving up work for a get-together like this, but at least he'll be with his friends. He can't find any good besides obedience in this. He's just doing a different kind of work. Faking smiles and putting on shows for the woman who hates his guts.
The timer goes off, signaling the end of the round, and he's brought to attention yet again. Kyoya again reminds himself that he's pouting and whining, and he's just going to have to deal with it.
That doesn't mean he has to be happy about it, though.