bored411: I can provide some comfort in saying that the Trauma Train is at the station for now, not that things will particularly lighten up.

Guest: Thank YOU for reviewing! It means so much!

UnicornPhoenix: Thanks, haha. We shall return to Kosuke's quickly unwounding life soon.

Lillyannp: Yay, you caught it! :) But yeah, that letter that Kosuke saw on Marti's desk in Chapter Two was from the loan shark. Just to make it incredibly clear that yes, Marti was in business with him and he wasn't just lying to get money. As for the Black Suit, it actually isn't Kyoya. I didn't realize until I looked back how much it might have sounded like him ._. The Black Suit was just a random person there as the token "good guy." Sorry for that confusion! Now we are getting to Kyoya.

Dovahkiin795: So I'm going to piggyback on this to deliver my personal status on COVID-19.

As of right now, my family and I are doing fine. We live outside of city limits, kinda-sorta in the country side, so we're not near any big cities that are being hit hard. Unfortunately, my father and I have jobs pretty closely-involved with the public. I'm working at a restaurant with a closed dining room now and I'm being very careful with keeping distance between everyone and keeping my hands clean. Besides our jobs, we're limiting our public outings to necessity like getting groceries. I'm feeling fine...besides allergies ;-_- Pretty bad timing.

That's my current circumstances as of right now. PLEEEAAAASE be safe, everyone! Try not to go out unless you absolutely must, wash your hands accordingly, and use sanitizer with 60-or-more percent alcohol. Remember that isolation isn't just about not getting sick, it's about not spreading the virus.

With that said, here is Chapter Eight, and FINALLLLLLYYYYY the introduction of our favorite Shadow King.

The ironic thing is that Kyoya had spent the majority of his life convinced that he was never going to fall in love.

It wasn't that he didn't believe love existed; of course it did. Just by the number of galas and weddings and even debutante balls he'd attended, he'd probably met more people than most did in their lives. So he'd met many married couples and engaged couples and several young lovers just beginning their relationships. He had met many deep in love with each other. He saw the tender touches and longing looks. If he tried, he might even remember a time when his own parents were so enamored.

But his oldest brother's marriage was arranged, and so was his other brother's, and so was his sister's, and Kyoya had all reason to believe his would be the same. Even as the third-born son, he could secure a partnership beneficial to the Ootoris.

Yes, some arranged marriages were perfect. Some were even partnerships between couples already in love. Sometimes they fell in love while engaged. Sometimes they fell in love after the wedding. And yes, others still collapsed after the union, but perhaps that is simply life, not necessarily arrangements badly thought out.

If you have a family like Kyoya's, the first thing considered is business, not feelings. Fuyumi was lucky to fall in love with her husband. Yuuichi and Akito get along with their wives well enough. That was fortune. It was good if you got along well with the person you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with. It just wasn't necessary.

For Kyoya, he never thought he'd be in such a position as his siblings. He'd never felt romantic feelings for anyone, point and period. He was going to marry a woman and live in, at most, civil matrimony. This didn't bother him. It was just how life would go. Between a happily ever after for himself and security for Ootori Medical and the hundreds that it employed, the latter took priority. Kyoya never expected to fall for another person in his life.

No, as it turns out. Kyoya is not just in love with one, but two different people.

Their names are Tamaki Suoh and Haruhi Fujioka, but soon the latter will be Haruhi Suoh.

Is this even possible, loving two people at once? He's certainly never heard of such a thing, not outside of the realm of romantic fiction and such. It sounds like such a tedious, complicated thing.

It is. Very much so, because Kyoya's head has had thoughts of it bouncing around inside like pachinko balls.

Does Kyoya instead have feelings for one, but was only truly in love with the other? Which one is which? How would he be able to tell the difference? He's known Tamaki longer, but does time factor so heavily into this? Would that mean he doesn't love Haruhi as much? Which one of them was the "runner-up"? In the hypothetical scenario, who would he…choose?

It might be an easier pill to swallow if he knew when it was official. There are some obvious answers.

A long time ago, even though Kyoya's fists were balled into his shirt collar and he was shaking with rage, actually wondering himself if he was going to lose control and punch the infuriating Chairman's son in the face, Tamaki had somehow peeled back every one of his layers and made him realize what he'd never known about himself. "You're the one who's given up." Maybe that was it.

A long time ago, after his father had struck him hard enough to send his glasses to the floor and made it so clear how much of an utter disappointment he was, not even bothering to face him as he said it, Haruhi had unashamedly let it be known how much she disagreed. "I think Kyoya is great." Maybe that was it.

Or maybe it was neither.

Oddly, he does know the moment when he realized Tamaki and Haruhi would inevitably be together. True,Tamaki had been reduced to a blushing puddle that early day when she'd emerged from the dressing rooms in the school's female uniform, and many times thereafter. That wasn't necessarily love, however—that was too soon for that. It took longer.

Even when it did become love, Kyoya had wondered if Tamaki would ever come to terms with it. To be honest, he still didn't know why the poor fool ever tried so hard to deny it. The closest he could decide was that Tamaki was so mindful of upkeeping the "family" that having romantic feelings for Haruhi had subconsciously unnerved him. Not that that excused his bullheadedness that had all of them pulling their hair out. Or explained why he called Haruhi his daughter. Or Kyoya the mother.

It was when he saw the look on Haruhi's face when she heard how Tamaki was leaving for France with his fiancé. The shock, the hurt. That was it.

So maybe it was only after that that Kyoya knew his own feelings, because he doesn't remember it hurting so much before then. He hadn't felt pangs of jealousy when they were together. He hadn't felt pangs of jealousy for many things in his life.

In truth, Kyoya had never felt such fondness for anyone before Tamaki, preferring the company of books over his classmates. The closest he was to anyone was Fuyumi, and that came with the territory of being siblings, he thought. So either he was so unused to such warm affection from an outsider and didn't realize that he was in love, or his lack of experience caused him to fall in love.

"In love" is awfully strong phrasing, too. When Kyoya hears those words, he thinks of burning passion and dependence, two people serving as the other's halves. He doesn't need Tamaki or Haruhi to live. He doesn't anguish in longing when they are gone, or scream in delight when they return. Kyoya is not someone to be dependent on others just to feel happiness.

But…He'd always felt a little victorious when he cracked a smile out of them. Tamaki's penchant for latching onto him (and all others) would always be tiring, but touch isn't always bad. Haruhi is a bit more reserved with blatant physical affections, so the few touches they'd shared were almost "special."

It is easy to admire Tamaki's undaunted determination to help others, how much he cared without being asked. It isn't just his looks that pulled people to him like moth to flame. Despite how unfair his life has been to him, Tamaki always makes it his goal to have others be happy. Always has. He's sensitive and emotional—surely too much for his own good—but not without his edges. Especially when it comes to his friends, Tamaki could be a force to be reckoned with. Kyoya would not soon forget the two students Renge had "casted" for her little film. They were lucky Haruhi intercepted.

Haruhi can read even the most reserved person (see: Kyoya) like an open book. Except herself, ironically. She had little patience for the many things the Club had entailed—from the twins' everyday mischief to kidnappings to the beach—but powered on and saw things through. She'd always been curious about the others' lives and stories, but that curiosity stemmed from caring. Haruhi did not ogle or pry at things, she sought to know the root of problems, and perhaps find a way to help.

Two people, very different but very alike, and Kyoya had to go and fall for both of them and lacked the sense to realize it until they had gotten together at long last.

It started after the Fair and only grew from there: an odd, hot ache when Kyoya saw Tamaki's loud squeaks of affection become quiet looks, or Haruhi's nonchalant exchanges gain a tint to her cheeks. Kyoya thought at first it was impatience. He and the others were equally eager for the two of them to hurry up and make it official. Then they did, and the ache stayed, and Kyoya thought maybe he was disappointed because he'd been entertained in secret. Those were the most logical conclusions he had.

One morning when he's talking with Fuyumi over the phone—she calls almost daily—he tells her how Tamaki and Haruhi are finally using the "boyfriend/girlfriend" labels and Fuyumi responds, "You know, Father says he was considering arranging the two of you together. How awkward would that have been?"

First thought: Why.

Second thought: Disappointment.

Third thought: Why the disappointment?

He tries to imagine married life with Haruhi. He imagines waking up in the same bed, sleepy afternoons, wedding rings, the wedding, Haruhi in a white dress, candlelit dinners, walking arm-in-arm or hand-in hand. Then he goes into more dire territory—children, anniversarys, the two growing gray-haired together—and he goes back to simple things. Kyoya calling her "my wife" and Haruhi calling him "my husband."

He is simultaneously bewildered—Haruhi being with him? Kyoya happily married? Tamaki, heartbroken? No—and unbothered.

Pleased, even.

No. Haruhi and Tamaki are together now; it is set. It is a fact of life.

Thinking about Tamaki somehow, inexplicably, unthinkably has him thinking everything he's just thought, but with him instead.

Why.

Disappointment.

Why the disappointment?

What is HAPPENING?

When he finally figured out what he feels for both Tamaki and Haruhi goes beyond friendship, Kyoya had no idea what the hell he was going to do. Confess? To both of them? While they were happy together, and Kyoya couldn't explain his own heart?

Why, why, why, why, why did this have to happen to him? Kyoya had been prepared. He'd been prepared for Tamaki and Haruhi to be together, and for himself to marry a girl that would primarily benefit Ootori Medical. She was just a faceless vision in his mind, because nothing about her looks, personality, or character would matter. It was not about him.

Then this had to just throw a wrench in everything. He didn't even have anyone to talk to. He wasn't close to any of the others, he'd never had such a conversation with Fuyumi. There was no one else. Fuyumi's only guess for why their father considered setting him up with Haruhi was that he thought they'd be happy together—which was hilarious.

Kyoya can only bear with it all by himself. He can manage that. It hurts, and he has no idea what he's doing, but he has no other choice.

This is all so stupid, regardless. Him, Kyoya Ootori, brought down at last by heartbreak, reduced to cry-eating ice cream and burning old photographs.

One day Tamaki pulls him out to dinner—at a fastfood joint courtesy of Tamaki's relentless love for almost all things "commoner"—and while finishing their greasy cheeseburgers and oversalted fries, goes deathly serious and declares, "I'm going to ask Haruhi to marry me."

So. Problem solved.

Buying and selling Ootori Medical back to the family was the hardest, most satisfying, and dumbest thing Kyoya hasd ever done.

Hardest because the Grand Tonnerre Group were as stubborn and prideful as the very business they were trying to get their hands on. Kyoya had pulled so many strings he nearly tangled his fingers together. The Fair and a thousand watching eyes were no help.

Satisfying because to at least himself, Kyoya thought he did it. He'd finally proven that third-born son or not, he was something to be both valued and feared. He knew how to play the game. He'd be lying if the fact that not too long before the deal was made, his father had struck him across the face and called him a disappointment in front of everyone…made him feel a little smug.

Dumbest because for once in his life, Kyoya Ootori got naïve. He was by no means expecting his father to kneel and kiss his toes and beg forgiveness. He'd have been shocked to even get a verbal thanks. Still, in the days that followed, his father's appraising looks almost made him feel secure. If not outright praise, then perhaps Yoshio would grant his son some respect for his actions. Kyoya did not gloat, but he knew he had done right.

That stage had passed, however, and Yoshio had realized that his son—his son he never had to worry about, who was always so predictable—had gotten a checkmate. Everyone knew it, too, and would call him foolish for not taking advantage of his son's skills.

So, he gives Kyoya the offer to benefit them both:

"If you can prove yourself ready for the responsibility, I'll bring you in favor for a position as respectable as your brothers'. You could very well be partners one day. But I am not going to give it to you. You will do what needs to be done and whatever is asked of you. Ootori Medical is your first and foremost priority from now on. Only after abiding by this will I even consider it."

And like a desperate fool, Kyoya answers, "Yes, Father."

So now Kyoya's every moment is Ootori Medical. From the crack of dawn to the next, Kyoya is overseeing developments and attending meetings and approving invoices and shaking hands and proposing deals and listening, listening, listening.

An outsider would think he is in a controlling role, but Kyoya is just a shadow, only speaking when asked. His closet collects dust in favor of pressed suits. His neck aches from hours on end of hunching over papers. Really, he is only Kyoya in the privacy of his own room. Elsewise, his personality is "business." The mask is almost becoming physical.

It is everything he had ever expected, however. His life is supposed to be this; he'd trained so vigorously for it. A test he'd studied cover-to-cover for. Yoshio knows this.

So he doubles down.

It's two in the morning. Go home, get some sleep, and be back at six.

There's no time to eat. Meet me downstairs in three minutes.

Go tell these four people they've been fired. Be back in ten minutes.

Kyoys does it all too eagerly. Even when his feet are sore from walking nine hours straight, or his head is lolling from lack of sleep, or the slightest sound becomes as loud as a bomb, he keeps going because this has to be it. His final break, presented to him on a silver platter. All he has to do is sweat some, lose a few hours' sleep.

Given, Kyoya is not sure why he was so desperate for it before, but now he can confidently say it is to prove Yoshio wrong.

Fuyumi is not someone he can see every day. She already lives so far away, already a busy woman by all definitions. Not as a businesswoman, granted, but a socialite. However, she is someone who tries to see Kyoya whenever possible.

Lunch, for example. Kyoya doesn't know if Fuyumi is aware of their father's soft spot for her or not—he'd have given a hard 'no' to anyone else asking for Kyoya's time. For her, though, Kyoya finds himself sitting across from her at twelve o'clock on the dot in a café that just opened in town.

"I think it's cute," Fuyumi says as she looks around the place. The flowers are somehow fresh, the linen cloths soft, the gold lights overhead inviting. She would not have called it anything else if it wasn't so tiny. "Like a cottage."

Kyoya leans away from the waiter, who has brushed against his side three times now. "I suppose."

Fuyumi pouts and folds her arms. She's in a thick sweater and slacks, gloves and a scarf, but all in pastels of pink and purple. Spring colors in winter is a trend now, apparently. "Oh, come on, Kyoya. Why so sour?"

Kyoya pointedly ignores the phone that chimes on the table, like an impatient child. He at least tried to set aside work calls for his sister, but today was not the day for it. "It would have been nice if you'd given me a word of notice beforehand, Fuyumi. Today is a busy day."

"Every day is a busy day. Tell me which one would have been more preferable."

None, but then again: Kyoya is just as incapable of telling Fuyumi no as his father is. She seems unaware. He'll keep it that way.

Fuyumi continues, "I'm happy for you, Kyoya, but I'm scared you're going to collapse from stress."

"How fortunate, then, that I work in a hospital."

"That's not funny!" Their waiter sets down a steaming cup of tea in front of her, but Fuyumi doesn't notice. "You need to start being easier on yourself."

Time #4 of the waiter brushing him. "I will when work starts needing less. Or when Mr. Domen come to see reason."

DomenMed is a massively important part of Ootori Medical. Not the company itself, but a leg of the table. As of late, their head, Daisuke Domen, has been loudly disagreeable with Yoshio, threatening to withdraw. Perhaps Yoshio would have been more wary if this hadn't happened a dozen times before now. All Yoshio has to do is be reassuring, but that entails all performances being flawless—Kyoya's included.

"You know what? Let's not talk about work. How has school been?"

"The same as usual."

"What about your friends? I haven't heard about the 'Zukas in forever."

"Mori and Hani are both busy. They seem fine when I see them."

"What about the Hitachiins? I know the two are finally starting to split up a bit, but I heard their first line was a success."

"Yes, very much so. Their second is already in production."

Don't ask about Haruhi or Tamaki. Don't ask about Haruhi or Tamaki. Don't ask about Haruhi or Tamaki. Don't ask about Haruhi or Tamaki. Don't ask about Haruhi or Tamaki.

"And Tamaki and Haruhi?"

"Still engaged."

Suddenly, Fuyumi sets her teacup down with a hard clack. She's angry, but her angry look is about as intimidating as a pouting puppy."Kyoya, can you please talk to me? I'm just asking questions over and over here."

Kyoya sighs, but complies—he doesn't want to be cold to Fuyumi, but it's been a few years since he's felt like some small talk. Not to mention the added context of this topic. "Haruhi has agreed to have the wedding in France. Now it's just a matter of planning everything else."

"Will Tamaki's grandmother be coming?"

"I think so. They've seemed to have buried the hatchet. I'm not sure she'll be so pleased with Anne-Sophie attending."

The phone buzzes. Kyoya's hand twitches to answer it. He doesn't.

Fuyumi smiles on her teacup's brim. "Let me guess who Tamaki's asked to be his best man."

"'Asked' is a weak word. 'Demanded' is a better fit."

There'd been no room for argument. Tamaki needed Kyoya as his Best Man the way a drowning man needed a lifesaver, it seemed. Kyoya hadn't even protested, but Tamaki had still cried regardless. Because Tamaki is just like that.

Fuyumi is just the same, because already she's starry-eyed and smiling. "I think it's just amazing, Kyoya. Such a huge day in someone's life, and to be right beside them for it…"

Kyoya knows she doesn't know any better, but this is one of those moments where it seems the universe is laughing at him. It's such an important day, Kyoya, you should be happy for them, so why aren't you? Are you jealous of Haruhi? Of Tamaki?

"Are you alright? You're not eating."

Sure enough, his food has arrived, and Kyoya hadn't even noticed. It looks appetizing, for a new, tiny restaurant with square footage that probably violates safety regulations. Coughing quick, he picks up his fork. "I'm fine; just thinking."

She hums. Her lips have quirked up in an almost catlike smirk. "Jealous?"

It's a wonderful thing he hasn't taken a bit yet, because he would have definitely choked just now. Kyoya blinks twice before he finally manages to say, "What?"

"I get it." Fuyumi's smirk changes into a nostalgic kind of smile as she cuts up her chicken. She isn't looking at him anymore. "When I was watching all my friends getting married, I was waiting for my turn, too."

Oh. "I'm not jealous."

"Getting used to it, then?"

"I'm not upset, Fuyumi."

She blinks, and Kyoya inwardly chides himself. He hadn't meant to snap.

Then Fuyumi just asks, "So can I ask what you're thinking about?"

Kyoya has never resisted Fuyumi's reaching out to him, or her attempts to hold up a traditional, open sibling bond. In their childhood, perhaps the Ootori children had all been the ragtag sort of close siblings who would play together and rib each other. As they grew older, however, they were all introduced to the world the Ootori name entailed, and that name became one of the only things that bound them. Really, Kyoya's brothers were more like business associates now. Only Fuyumi attempts to keep them close, and Kyoya has always been the easiest to manage that with—young and not yet involved in Ootori Medical.

So Kyoya doesn't feel uncomfortable confiding in Fuyumi, but it feels stupid to even say it out loud. He could say it to his own reflection and he'd feel bile in his throat. "I'm in love with Haruhi and Tamaki—now they're getting married, and I don't even know how to feel about it."

Instead, he says, "It's odd to think Father wanted to arrange me with Haruhi. That's all."

Fuyumi nods like he said it in a much more dramatic tone. "Ah, so that's it. I'm sure it's strange to imagine."

Strange indeed. "Yes. I don't know why Father would come up with such an idea."

"I told you, I think he just thought you'd be happy with her."

"Haruhi doesn't come from high standing." At the offended look he gets, Kyoya goes on, "I'm not trying to speak badly of her, that's just a fact. Being with her wouldn't benefit the Ootori Group, which would be Father's priority."

"Has it occurred to you that maybe he places your happiness above the company?" It's very good that Fuyumi keeps talking, because Kyoya doesn't want to burst her bubble with so many people around them. He just wishes she could have said something else. "I am curious, though…Did you ever like Haruhi? I know Tamaki is your best friend, but it seemed you and her always got along a little better than the others."

Kyoya is very aware of that. Too aware of that. He's not lonely, but it's a simple fact that he doesn't have many people he would consider close friends. Haruhi and Tamaki are the closest he's ever been to anyone. It seems incredibly unfair that he had to fall in love with them. Getting close to Haruhi had surprised him, even, because he was sure that Tamaki was the only person who could worm his way to Kyoya's side with sheer determination. Haruhi, though, she is as opposite of Tamaki as Kyoya is, softspoken and mature and—

Everything about this is oxymoronic. Falling for Haruhi makes perfect sense and not at all.

"Haruhi is certainly a friend, but if you're asking if I felt anything other than platonic for her, then the answer is no. She's someone whose company I enjoy."

"That's good, then. Can't imagine how awkward it would have been…That being said! Is there any girl that you do like? At work? At school?" She's trying so hard to be casual, but she's glowing. So excited to know. She managed to make it through his high school years, but now she is desperate to see her youngest brother with whatever lucky lady life threw his way.

Kyoya disappoints her. "No."

Like the flick of a switch: disappointed. "No one?"

"No one." Kyoya finally takes a bite of food, but he's too distracted to even taste it—by his own thoughts, by the buzzing phone, by Fuyumi's woeful expression. "Regardless of why he would have considered me and Haruhi together, I'm sure Father will find someone more fitting for me to be with. When he does, I'll focus on getting along with her."

Fuyumi perks up again. "Are you excited about that? Meeting someone you like?"

No. He'd met a person opposite his personality and a person opposite his upbringing and knowing that he fell for them, Kyoya is very stressed to imagine that if—if—he ever finds someone else that his naïve heart sings for, they will also somehow be his opposite. He doesn't have the strength or patience for that, let alone to be excited for it.

He's carefully put aside thinking about his possible future marriage. All he knows is that it won't be Tamaki or Haruhi, so why even bother fantasizing about the lucky girl he'll be spending the rest of his days with?

"I trust Father's judgement to make the best match, so yes, I'd be interested in finding out more about her personality."

It's a bland answer, but Fuyumi takes it enthusiastically. Her unending concern about each and every one of his relationships is simultaneously kind and annoying.

They spend a stretch just sitting there and eating, but that makes it harder to ignore his phone. His father knows where he is, so no doubt he's being bombarded with everything to take care of the second he gets back. Kyoya's always been a quick thinker, but he's not a computer. He has to carefully consider his decisions and timing.

The waiter comes to take their plates—brush #5—and Fuyumi suddenly looks…thoughtful. She isn't looking at Kyoya anymore, instead at the flowers picked from the indoor rooftop garden. Kyoya is awaiting to hear her next words.

"Kyoya?"

"Yes?"

"Have you…heard from Mother recently?"

Alright.

He was not expecting that.

Though it…has been on his mind lately. Jin Ootori has always been a busy woman. Yoshio's always been the one who stayed put while his wife took care of the mobile side of the business: meetings, weddings, on-site evaluations, etc. For all Kyoya's life, he'd say that maybe half of it had his mother away for work. This might have been why she and her husband's relationship had started its sure decline.

Still…She'd at least attempted to stay in touch when she could. Jin was ten times as close to her children as her husband, not that the sum was anything monumental. She loathed missing so much of their lives, so their visits and talks were all about catching up and staying updated. Even if it was as simple as a text message bidding them a good night.

Since she'd departed three weeks ago for oversea matters, however…

Nothing.

No postcards, no calls, no text messages.

Kyoya is concerned, but at the same time, he would know if his mother was in any trouble. No doubt she's safe, so if she's too busy to keep in contact, that's fine. He's busy, himself.

"No," he answers, "But I'm sure she's fine."

Fuyumi nods. "Yeah. Of course."

When the news of Tamaki and Haruhi's engagement had spread, there had been much rejoicing from—well, everyone.

Ranka was happy. Anne-Sophie and Yuzuru were happy. Shizue was alright with it. Ouran University, with the vast majority of its students from the Academy, had been bursting at the seams with jubilation. It seemed every single student was buzzing about the Prince and the Natural looking towards the "happiest day of their lives", what the ceremony would be like, and a bit more invasive matters like their future children and such.

The Host Club—

Firstly, the Host Club had officially dissolved after Haruhi and the twins' third year. Its four eldest members no longer counted as Academy students, so instead of customers being charged to see their preferred Host, they were instead charged for participating in Club events and meetings. There was disorganization, and a slight drop in business from customers not happy they could no longer buy one-on-one time, but it was still the Host Club. Fun, entertaining, relaxing.

But then Haruhi and the twins graduated, too, and no more excuses could be made for non-Academy students being in an Academy club. If others wanted to inherit the title, create the next generation of Hosts, that was fine—but by Kyoya's second year at Ouran University, none had appeared. Now the Hosts' schedules were simply too different to organize a regular plan to have meetings and events.

Despite the 'Club' title being taken away, they are still bound together. Club meetings and events became dinners, movie nights, mall trips, visits to the beach and the mountains and whatever else—thankfully not as impromptu as they once were. University students even act as though they'd never split apart to begin with.

So everyone was still together to react to the news, and it wasn't cheer so much as relief. "Finally." Hani was bouncing off the walls with joy—he was engaged to Reiko now, but they had agreed to wait a year or two after graduation to marry. Mori had made his approval, however stoic, known. Kaoru and Hikaru were both in agreement that Tamaki had waited way, way, way too long to pop the question.

(Hikaru's feelings for Haruhi seemed to have fully returned to friendship. Kyoya wonders how hard that must have been for him…but he is not going to ask.)

In typical Host Club fashion, everything was set into motion from the very first second. Hani wanted to know if they had already come up with wedding cake ideas. Reiko was curious about the venue. Renge—

Who, note, came out of nowhere.

—needed every single detail of how the proposal happened.

The twins offered their help. Both out of the kindness of their hearts and their unceasing hunger for mischief.

"No way in hell," are the very first words Haruhi says the second the drawing comes up on the screen. She and Tamaki are on one side, the twins the other, and the stenciled idea for the dress is in the middle in all its horror.

Kyoya knows a joke when he sees it. Because there really is no way in hell that Haruhi—who always preferred the most simple and convenient of options—is going to walk down the aisle in the seven-foot-wide monstrosity of taffeta skirts and a high collar of diamonds he's looking at.

"You're the bride," Kaoru defends. "All eyes are supposed to be on you."

Hikaru—Kyoya now confidently knows it's Hikaru, because in his third year of high school, he'd dyed his hair chestnut brown—adds, "You want them to give them something to remember."

Tamaki looks like he's wondering if it's possible to strangle someone via wireless connection. "If she wears that, she'll no doubt trip and fall, and if that happens, I will hold YOU TWO solely responsible!"

Kyoya offers his two cents. "It's not Haruhi's style—but you already knew that, which is why you're showing this in the first place."

He knows he's being snippy, but he can't help it. It hasn't just been a long week, it's been a long trimester. A long year. He is in a very rare moment of reprieve. He is in his room, at his desk, his bed just five feet away and calling out to him. He must ignore it, however, because after so many times of telling them he won't be able to make it to their get-togethers, his friends have made it very clear that they are put up with his absence.

Kyoya knows they care. It's just that demanding that he take part in this video chat after a thirteen-hour shift, two firings, and a very heated meeting with the Domens isn't very caring. Haruhi at least protested, but it was for naught.

Kaoru glowers at him from his window in the screen. "Are you meaning to insult our hard work, Kyoya?"

"I think he is," Hikaru sniffs. "Keep that up and see if we're going to do the same for your special day."

"That's not as much of a threat as you think it is."

"Can you please show me the actual design?" Haruhi sighs.

Hikaru looks down, and the clicks of a keyboard can be heard. "Just a second…"

The circus tent of a dress flits away for the next one. Except it's not a dress. It is the perfect example of what a showgirl would wear: a rhinestone bikini with enormous plumes of white tailfeathers. The featureless model it's drawn on is even striking the one-hand-on-the-head, other-hand-on-the-hip pose.

Haruhi's screen goes black. It takes some frantic text messaging from an enraged Tamaki for her to log back on, and she still looks like she'd welcome Death if he appeared in front of her.

Now Kyoya is very sure that Tamaki is about to leave so he can hunt down the twins for their blood. "You PERVERTS!"

Kaoru: "This is a very lucrative offer we're making you, Boss! Do you have any idea how expensive a dress like this would be?"

Hikaru: "This is at least five thousand diamond rhinestones."

Haruhi looks close to logging off once more. "I can tell you really thought about me when you designed this."

"We did," Hikaru insists. "Look, we even made the top high-collar so as not to draw attention to your—"

For once, Tamaki's withering look silences the Hitachiin. Comments about Haruhi's form have always infuriated him. Comments about Haruhi's form after their official engagement send him into a pitch-black rage.

"—shoes. We're still working on the shoes."

Tamaki's eyes turn on him. "Kyoya. Please."

Kyoya pushes his glasses up his nose. His nerves are really being tapdanced on. "Haruhi and Tamaki are on this call to discuss very important developments for a very important day, not to take part in your immature jokes."

There is a pause. Instead of the twins looking properly chided and Tamaki and Haruhi looking thankful, all four sets of eyes on the computer blink at him. Kyoya can't hear his own voice to know, but did he snap too harshly? Did he yell, or was his tone just so cutting?

It's Haruhi who breaks the silence. "Please. I am begging you guys to show me an actual dress."

"Alright." Hikaru moves once again. "Actual dress."

The showgirl costume goes and the dress comes. Yes, actual dress. Column, a little silvery belt at the waist, round collar. A layered veil falls from the silhouette's crown. Finally, Haruhi looks pleased.

"We tried to keep it simple, like you said." Kaoru points to the top of his head. "The veil is just there for show. Don't pay mind to it."

Tamaki at last smiles. "Very nicely done, you two."

Hikaru asks, "What do you think, Haruhi?"

In the window showing Haruhi's face, she's nodding, but Kyoya can see the hesitation in her eyes. The design is lovely, yes, but something doesn't quite satisfy her. "I like it! You both did a really good job. I like the—color."

It's white. Because it's a wedding dress. Kyoya bites back another sigh. "Haruhi, this is your wedding day. It's fine to have some critiques."

Tamaki also picks up on his fiancées lack of complete satisfaction. "This dress is being made just for you. If there's something you don't like, you can say so."

Haruhi still hesitates for a second. Thankfully, though, she finally admits, "I think I kind of want the waist to be a little more…You know." She makes a vaguely bell-like shape with her hands. "But not really poofy."

From somewhere in his room, Kaoru withdraws a notebook and scribbles something down, murmuring under his breath. "A-line."

"And I want lace, after all. I know I said I didn't, but—"

"Your dress," affirms Hikaru. "What about the belt? Yes, or no?"

"Mm…"

"No. Gotcha."

Kyoya oh-so wishes he was not taking part in this. He knows very much about the names and businesses of the fashion world but very little about judging fashion himself. The bride, groom, and designers are here, so he doesn't understand why the best man needs to be here as well. Also, again: he is very bizarrely in love with said bride and groom both. Helping with wedding preparations in any form is painful.

Yet—he is still happy, somehow, in some small part, to be here. If he could go back in time and take back every time he called the Host Club frivolous or unnecessary…No, that was true. It was. Still, he'd have said it much more fondly. He'd spent so many days simply in the company of his friends, caring so much about things like figuring out what Haruhi is scared of, or helping Nekozawa with his little sister, or helping some struggling lovebirds. Now he's taking part in Ootori Medical each and every minute, and he knows for a fact he's being pulled away from everyone.

No, no. This is not a problem. Kyoya is very fortunate to have the opportunity he does at Ootori Medical. The real world doesn't care about scheduling around your get-togethers and video chats. He can be pleased to spend time with his friends while also acknowledging how his time could be spent more wisely.

Tamaki and Haruhi are together and they will be for the rest of their lives. That is why Kyoya is taking part in conversation about their wedding attire. He wonders how many times he's going to have to remind himself of it until his heart actually registers that it's true.

"Kyoya? You okay?"

He's getting awfully distracted as of late. He hadn't noticed, but the dress had gone, and now Kyoya is looking at many, many flowers. There's a larger picture of a red rose and a white rose to the left, and rows of other flowers to the right. He supposes these are possible combinations.

"I'm fine. Did you say something?"

"What do you think about the third row?"

Kyoya looks. It's baby's breath, desert bluebells, and rhododendrons. "I don't think the blue fits with the other colors."

"That's what I was thinking," Tamaki affirms. There's something off in his voice.

"So the second one is our best bet for now." Kyoya only gets a glimpse at it—baby's breath, anemons, and daisies—before Hikaru returns to the dress. "Noted."

"Excuse me," Tamaki cuts in. "If no one else minds—especially you, Haruhi—could we maybe take a break for a minute?"

The way Haruhi says "yeah" is in that tone like she thinks Tamaki is thinking what she's thinking. Kyoya doesn't know what they're thinking. Or what the twins are thinking, because they don't protest.

Kyoya, confused, asks, "Is something wrong?"

"Not at all. It's just been a while since we've all been around to get caught up with each other." Tamaki smiles in a way that is, for once, just a little forced. "Hikaru, Kaoru, how's production going?"

"Here, hold on."

Hikaru pulls up another picture. It's of two of their outfits, proudly displayed in some unknown boutique from behind a pane of glass. The twins definitely have the skills to take part in, or even inherit, the Hitachiins' fashion business. It seems they've made flowers their signature, no doubt with some help from their grandmother. The dress is high-necked and long-sleeved, white and patterned with anemones, bellflowers, and perennial geraniums—red, blue, and yellow. The suit beside it has the same pattern. It's beautiful work. Kyoya has no idea why he's looking at it.

Kaoru grins from ear-to-ear. "Ta-dah!"

Haruhi oohs. "They're beautiful!"

"Wonderful," adds Tamaki. "You two should be proud!"

"We are," Hikaru honestly preens.

The whole exchange carries the air of being an icebreaker. Kyoya realizes why three seconds later when Haruhi asks, "So, Kyoya, how have you been?"

"Very busy."

An awkward chuckle comes from Tamaki. "So you've said. Has anything changed? What about the situation with the Domens?"

"Still tenuous—"

Hikaru cuts in, "Wait, what happened with the Domens?"

Kaoru sighs, "Is it Akemi again?"

He's referring to the only daughter of the Domen family, who Kyoya has thankfully only met a handful of times. Not unlike a certain French girl who moved out to Japan on a whim just to see him, she'd decided some time ago that she and Kyoya are meant to be together. Whereas Renge's infatuation stemmed from projection of a fictional version of himself, the Domen heiress's seemed to stem more from offense. She is apparently quite used to suitors falling over their feet to impress her, so Kyoya not doing the same is a grave insult. They have a cycle now: arranged meeting between them, she flirts and winks and slinks his way, Kyoya does not reciprocate, she storms out in a rage. Repeat. Kyoya does not talk about her often. Which is probably why Kaoru got her name wrong.

"Amaya, and no, this doesn't have anything to do with her."

Haruhi explains, "They're threatening to pull out again, but they've done that before. It's just a lot of trouble."

"No doubt everyone is working in overdrive." Tamaki's look is crushingly sympathetic even pixelated through a computer. "I'm sorry, Kyoya. I'm sure it's crazy over there right now."

"It's work. This is just a part of it." Kyoya straightens up his already-straight posture. "I've told you before, we don't get breaks."

As usual, they are not so easily swayed. Haruhi chides, "Yeah, but only getting three hours of sleep a night? That's not healthy."

"I—"

"Three hours?" Kaoru and Hikaru shout in unison. They don't do that so much anymore, but they'll always have the same wavelengths, apparently.

"You know, I often got less when we were in the Host Club, considering all the times it was decided in the spur of the moment that we were going somewhere—"

Tamaki says, "Kyoya, I understand that the family business is important to you, but don't you think you should focus a little more on your wellbeing? Even the busiest of people take a break every now and then."

"I've told all of you that I'm fine. I need to get used to this kind of scheduling, or else I'll never be a worthwhile part of the company." The second he sees a pair of lips open to protest, Kyoya continues on, "I'm here because I was invited to take part in looking at the wedding attire. I'd like it if we could get back to that."

More silence. Somehow all four of them share looks. Kyoya is very, very close to snapping.

"Alright." Kaoru picks up a pen again. "Let's get back to it."

Haruhi and Tamaki don't seem so eager anymore. One of the qualities the two of them share is that neither are willing to drop a problem when they see it. It seems that the only thing holding them back from persisting that Kyoya is in a bad situation is the twins' presence and not being there in person.

Hikaru perks up. "Oh, Boss, do you want to see what we've got for your suit?"

Tamaki also perks up, bright as a star. "Yes!"

The image comes up.

It is a diaper. Just a silhouette with googly eyes and a tongue-y smile wearing a diaper.

The sound that absolutely shreds out of Kyoya's laptop's speakers sounds very vaguely like "THAT'S IT." Suddenly Tamaki's window is a blur of yellow hair and flailing limbs, and the next second, they're left looking at his desk chair spinning in place. A door slams.

Kaoru and Hikaru are, of course, cackling. Haruhi is staring off into space.

Kyoya really, truly is about to snap. He doesn't even have a headache, but each squeak of laughter that comes out of the twins' mouths is like a stab into his ears. He doesn't know what it is, but there's also a strange, muffled thumping sound somewhere.

Haruhi's voice is barely heard. "You guys better laugh while you can."

The twins just keep laughing, and it keeps stabbing and the thumping—

Wait.

The thumping is coming from the door.

Someone's coming—

The last thing Kyoya sees is Hikaru's Cheshire grin turn into terror, and the last thing he hears is "How'd you get here so FAST—?!" Then he clicks off the entire browser.

Right in the nick of time, too. The spreadsheet is already pulled up on the screen, and the door opens not even a second later.

It's Yoshio. Kyoya instantly goes stiff all over, like his body is trying to auto-correct his posture on instinct. It is late, but Yoshio is still dressed in his suit and tie, nothing so much as unbuttoned. He doesn't seem angry, but his father's face is severe by default. Kyoya never quite knows what to expect from him.

"Cancel all your plans for tomorrow morning," he says right away. "We'll be going to the Domen estate."

His tone is final, but he doesn't seem urgent, so this isn't too last-minute. Still, the obvious stress makes it clear it wasn't planned, either. Kyoya does not ask why, when, how, what, or who. He simply answers, "Yes, Father" and mentally wipes the slate for the next morning.

"Amaya will be attending," Yoshio continues. "I expect you to act civilly with her."

Kyoya…always does. "Yes, Father."

He is honestly surprised when his father clarifies, "You won't be expected to flatter her or give her any special accommodations. I simply expect you to be polite and kind to her."

It's an Amaya problem after all, then. "Yes, Father."

Yoshio hesitates for a moment, but then he turns for the door just as quickly as he'd walked through it to begin with. But then…he pauses again. He takes his hand off the door, turns back, and asks, "Has your mother contacted you recently?"

"No." He answers without even processing—without even realizing that this means Jin hasn't contacted her husband for the same stretch.

Yoshio nods. He leaves.

Kyoya's phone is already buzzing.

From: Kaoru

Did your laptop crash?

From: Hikaru

Did you log off?

From: Tamaki

Kyoya please come back! I promise the twins won't be any more trouble but your opinions are CRITICAL to the planning of this wedding!

From: Haruhi

I don't blame you. Let's try again later.