bored411: Maybe so ;) Unfortunately I am like most writers and fall into Chaotic Evil so this romance story isn't going to be a fairy tale. Thanks for the review!

Lillyannp: *Kronk voice* "Oh, yeah…It's all coming together…" Thank you!

Shigeo had not at all been lying when he'd described it as a different world. He'd just undersold it to an unlawful degree.

Kosuke had thought that being at the Blue Tower had been an unearthly experience, and it was. The glass walls and glittering fountains were too luxurious to be real, no one acted like real people, she'd never even seen a slot machine before. She still remembered the isolation, the guilt, and (worst of all) the Blue Suit, but the exact details are hazy after that. She can't say what color the walls had been, or who won which games.

She thinks that tonight will be the same. She'd thought that they were walking into some kind of event hall, or a hotel, but after seeing framed photographs on the walls and catching glimpses of personalized bedrooms, Kosuke realizes she is in someone's home. Whereas Kosuke is like most people, living in a home serviceable to her family, this family has a real, literal, not-making-this-up parking lot. The valet—once again, something she'd known to be real but unseen—skips over their limousine because the driver already has it covered.

No one is dressed to the nines, they are dressed to the nine thousands. Men's suits are tailored to every line of their body, not a single stitch out of place, crisp and clean and making them look like origami figures. Women's dresses seem almost a part of them, so perfectly beaded and laced so that each of them is their own vision of beauty. Kosuke feels incognito. In appearance, she fits right in, but a mask is a mask.

This party, as Shigeo had explained just a few minutes before they entered, is the celebration of an engagement. For a couple in an arranged marriage. Apparently their parents had wanted them together since birth, but had ultimately left the final word to them. By his tone, Shigeo thought it overdramatic. Kosuke thought it an open door for years of manipulation. "Mommy and Daddy will let you marry whoever you want, sweetie! But we reeeaaally, reeaaally want it to be this person."

The second they walk through the doors, they fall into their roles. Shigeo is the mother having her groceries bought and bagged. Kosuke is the little kid looking at the gumball machines until it's done.

It isn't a Cinderella moment, stepping under the crystal chandelier with her arm hooked around Shigeo's. The room does not go silent as everyone turns to look at the pauper-turned-princess. No, everyone keeps on about their business, but Kosuke can still feel eyes on her. Maybe it is her imagination, but she thinks maybe a few hands rise up to whisper behind palms.

Shigeo leads her into a ballroom, or some other room just as grandiose. Most of the guests seem to be here, cycling around the newly (read: officially) engaged couple: young, warm, and joined at the arm. They seem genuinely happy, at least.

Kosuke is led right to the throng—she realizes they are now in line to give their congratulations. The last bit of wonder at the crystal chandeliers and champagne towers has to be choked down. This is the first part of her test. She keeps her posture, and smiles just enough to not look like she has no idea what she's doing.

Shigeo puts on a smile so convincing Kosuke is actually just a little bit scared. "It's wonderful to hear the news. Maybe I'll start calling you two Mr. and Mrs. Nishimiya already."

The two give polite laughs, and the girl (she can't be much older than Kosuke) says, "It's so nice to see you here, Mr. Amida. We were worried you may not show tonight."

"As was I. Luckily I managed to make it over." Shigeo does a little half-nod, half-bow that the engaged couple return. "I wish you two nothing but happiness."

"Thank you, Mr. Amida," they say almost at the same time.

And that's…it. Apparently.

Shigeo leads her away once more before Kosuke can say so much as a syllable. He has someone he's looking for, judging by his scanning gaze, but he's very good at pretending that he isn't looking at all. Kosuke just keeps walking with him. She hasn't said a word and she's wondering if she'll simply be here for show tonight.

"Shigeo!"

From seemingly nowhere, a woman comes gliding up to them with a warm but professional smile. Her brown hair is in an immaculate bun, her violet dress hasn't a crease in sight, but probably most telling is that she's wearing white gloves that go all the way up to her elbows: another cartoonish symbol of the rich.

The woman smiles perfectly white, perfectly straight teeth at both of them. "I don't think I can keep my curiosity down much longer. This wouldn't happen to be your daughter, would it?"

"Yes, it is." Then Shigeo puts his hand between Kosuke's shoulders in a false display of fatherly pride. "Madame Karuma, this is Kosuke."

Madame Karuma gives her the tiniest of bows, and Kosuke does what she thinks she's supposed to do in this situation and bows much, much deeper until she can't see her face anymore. Her curled hair curtains her eyes for just a second, hopefully masking her deer-in-headlights look. When she stands upright again, Madame Karuma looks pleased and Shigeo seems satisfied at minimum.

Then Madame Karuma's face softens and she folds her gloved hands over her heart. "I'm so very sorry to hear about your mother, dear. Such a tragedy."

It's not that it's ingenuine, but it is coming from an absolute stranger. She's giving her condolences because she knows Shigeo and she's his daughter—it's doubtful she would have ever brought it up otherwise. Common sense, of course, but Kosuke's appreciative smile is forced. "Thank you."

Madame Karuma's face just goes right back to normal, quirking up a sly smile. "I'm guessing it was her who gave your daughter such a pretty face."

"Of course," Shigeo answers, narrowing his eyes but still smiling. "Thank you for noticing."

Madame Karuma tilts her head to the right. "If you're looking for Yoshio, he's outside. I believe he's looking for you, too."

"Thank you." Madame Karuma nods once and turns away with her skirts trailing elegantly behind her. As soon as she's gone, Shigeo's smile drops back into his default, stone-still expression. He turns to Kosuke and walks in front of her just so. He faces her head-on and slips his arm out of hers, and even though they aren't so much as touching anymore, Kosuke feels that he's blocking her in to share a secret.

"I'm going to go take care of something," he tells her. There is no room for argument. "Don't be rude, but don't seek out anyone. Just seem approachable. This shouldn't take long."

Then he just leaves, and Kosuke is alone.

She tries her hardest not to look like a shy kid on her first day of school. It is hard, though. It's one thing to be alone in a room of strangers. Throw in the fact that she has to be as flawless as possible, and Kosuke is very close to sweating, which she cannot afford. (Literally. She's wearing money.)

There has to be something she can do alone. There's food somewhere, right? There has to be.

I'll get a drink, she thinks to herself. I'll get a drink and stoically observe the rest of the party like a mysterious madame bored by everything, elegant and unapproachable but too respectable to dislike. Maybe.

She does get a drink—non-alcoholic, a type of fruity-smelling tea served in dainty glass teacups—but no sooner does she lift one from a silver tray does a voice ask, "Are you Mr. Amida's daughter?"

Kosuke answers before she can even see who's asking. It's two women (the younger haven spoken), probably sisters just by the look of them. They could be supermodels: tall, with long necks and striking eyes. They look at her not so much with admiration, but interest.

"I told you," the younger scoffs to the older. "She looks just like him!"

"Does not. Her eyes, maybe. Nothing else." The older looks her up and down. "How old are you?"

Kosuke allows herself to only blink once. "Nineteen."

The younger tilts her head to the side. "Are you attending Ouran University?"

Warning!

Warning!

You will appear stupid and lazy if you are not attending a prestige college!

But also don't lie because you're awful at lying on the spot!

"I...am taking a year off, actually. I have some...personal matters I need to get in order before I go to college."

The older flicks the younger on the arm hard enough to Kosuke to wince her sympathy. "You know what happened to her, idiot. Don't be rude."

"So-ree." She says it to the older woman, though. Not Kosuke, who she simply turns back to as if the death of her parents wasn't just the topic of their talk. "You will be attending Ouran, though? Practically every college-age blueblood does."

It's odd, the way she says "blueblood": she's not sarcastic in the slightest. They are bluebloods, pure and simple. And...damn, Kosuke guesses she's blueblooded, too. Not just now, always has been.

"It's certainly an option." That sounds fine to her. Fine enough. She's lying, probably, but it's fine. Except maybe it isn't, because the two women look mildly unimpressed for a moment before their elegant faces return to form.

The older picks up a glass teacup of her own. "Moncelli is the best, don't you think?"

"Yes," Kosuke agrees. She has no idea what Moncelli is. "Absolutely…sublime."

"Oh, please." The younger rolls her eyes. Kosuke finally concludes that they, at least, aren't being expected to upkeep flawless elegance. "Everyone knows Almerdam is much better."

"You can't tell Moncelli from Almerdam from battery acid."

"You confused a Riorgio for a Cartello yesterday, don't act so high-and-mighty."

"I have to remind you the difference between Giavanni and Givonnio every day!"

"Give me a break, they sound so similar!" The younger turns to Kosuke, pulling her right back into the conversation the way torturers in spy movies dunk their victims' heads back into the water once they get a gulp of air. "Isn't it so easy to mistake Giavanni and Givonnio?"

And poor, naïve Kosuke is still under the belief they're talking about tea, and she needs to make a fair impression, so she says: "They do taste very similar!"

And the girls don identical looks of bewilderment and say together, "Giavanni and Givonnio are handbags."

So Kosuke laughs like a demented hyena and claims, "I was joking!" Then she takes a deep gulp of spitting hot tea before she can stop herself.

Then she just about chokes it all up over all three of them because who on Earth does she see across the room—in a handsome white three-piece suit, talking to a trio of partygoers—than Tamaki Suoh?

Whatthehellwhatthehellwhatthehellwhatthehellwhatthehell

In the midst of her panic, wide-eyed and stiff as stone, Kosuke supposes this isn't impossible. Actually, scratch that. Kosuke is an idiot for not considering this. Maybe. Is she? She knew Tamaki has always been maid-and-butler, golden-spoon, house-with-a-ballroom rich but whyyyyy does he HAVE TO BE HERE?

Actually, no, this is fine. Tamaki is fine. So what if he sees her? He'll probably freak, but that's just Tamaki. Maybe Haruhi even told him Kosuke is on an outing with her estranged father. It's fine…

…except that even if Haruhi told him that, he has no idea about the heirdom and apprenticeship and all that other stuff and if he says something wrong he can send everything crashing down.

DaaaaammmmmniiiiiiitttdamnitdamnitdamnitALLTOHELL.

"I need to excuse myself," Kosuke abruptly tells the women. "It was a you meeting pleasure."

She throws in a little curtsy for good measure, and turns away. As she speed-walks to the nearest exit ("What did she say?"), she has to remind herself not to be angry. Tamaki is just here. He hasn't done anything wrong. The problem is just that Tamaki is a sweet, sincere, caring blabbermouth and could out her in two words, robbing her of the opportunity offered.

Kosuke makes it outside and slows to a more unnoteworthy pace. Slow enough to not look like she's running, but briskly enough to appear to have a destination in mind and no time to talk. Maybe she shouldn't even be running. Keeping an eye on Tamaki may be better. Just to know where he is and what he's doing.

Then, so very much out of nowhere, a man pointedly steps in front of her and asks, "Kosuke Amida?"

"Yes…?"

"Mr. Amida and Mr. Ootori want to speak with you."

Alright. This is probably not bad.

Kosuke follows the man back inside, into a new room not as crowded but no less regal. Though there aren't any food stations or beverage fountains, there are tables draped in snowy white cloths and decorated with simple candles. A place to get off your feet, Kosuke guesses.

Shigeo is sitting at one such table, and across from him is Mr. Ootori. Even when he isn't looking at her, Kosuke is intimidated. He is not at all ugly, just so…severe. Sharp eyes, sharp cheekbones, sharp goatee, no kidding! Behind his glasses his eyes are just as dark as his hair, which is slicked neatly back.

Kosuke panics for a second because she still has her tea and they're not drinking anything so they might think her drinking without them is tacky and okay now a waiter is taking her cup away and that kind of sucks because it was good tea and she didn't finish it.

She takes a seat beside Shigeo, but not before giving a respectable bow at the waist. Mr. Ootori does not respond. Kosuke almost shivers when he looks at her.

Shigeo discreetly nudges her leg from under the table. Right. Introduction. "Kosuke N—Amida. Pleasure to meet you."

"Yoshio Ootori." He keeps his eyes on her while she takes a seat. "How old are you, Miss Amida?"

The name Amida is going to take a lot to get used to. "I'm nineteen."

"Are you in college right now?"

Kosuke swallows. Shigeo is watching her closely. "Circumstances have…caused me to take a year off. I was going to attend Seneca."

Judging by Shigeo's very subtle shift in his seat, this is the wrong answer. Probably because Seneca is the place for Karuizawa girls who had to apply for scholarships, and not a gold-and-silver college for those born with the birthright of attending.

Mr. Ootori doesn't react other than the brief raise of an eyebrow. She wonders just how much of Shigeo's story he's been told. "What were your grades like in high school?"

"Almost straight A's." Kosuke knows that maybe she should lie a little more, say she got nothing but hundreds, but she wonders how much can be crosschecked. Also, why is she being interrogated?

"Why almost?"

"…Physical education wasn't my strong suit."

If she didn't know any better, she'd say the brief narrow of his eyes was almost in amusement. Probably not. "You don't need to be nervous."

"I—I'm not—"

"You're stiff as a board. Relax."

Only then does Kosuke realize that yes, she is so rigid she's gone sore. She relaxes. So does Shigeo.

"Mr. Amida has already told me about what has happened in your life recently. I'd like to hear it in your own words."

She has to take a second and prepare herself. She must recall everything that Shigeo has told her and have no discrepancies.

"My mother—Emiko—died in a car accident with my stepfather a little about a year ago." Stepfather, she has to use the word stepfather. "I had to put all my plans for the future on hold so I could take care of my siblings."

Mr. Ootori raises a brow and looks to Shigeo. "You didn't mention any siblings."

What? Kosuke gives him a sideways look, and even though he doesn't look at her, she knows Shigeo is mentally yelling at her for that. It occurs to her that she can't make him look like the bad guy in any way. She doesn't have to fake a loving bond between a father and daughter finally reunited, but she can't be bitter.

"My mother and stepfather had two children together. Their names are Minami and Hitsuji, and they're just children. Eight and five. I don't think he knew about them before he found out about what…happened."

Thankfully, Shigeo picks up the line she's feeding him. They have to work off each other. "What happened between Emiko and I was unfortunate, but I wanted to respect her wishes and leave her be. I only checked every now and then to see if she was doing well, nothing more."

Mr. Ootori accepts that and turns back to her. "Go on."

"I've been taking care of all three of us since. I've managed, but it hasn't been easy."

"Money?"

"Children."

"I have four." The unsaid I understand eases Kosuke a little more.

"Between the restaurant that my mom and stepdad had, and all the savings and inheritance, we do have plenty of money to live on. But I need to stay at home to watch the children, so I can't attend college and get a good employment. Our income is frozen, and you can never predict what the future holds, so...I've always been worried that something might happen and hurt us."

"Then Shigeo stepped in?"

Now she has to pick up a paintbrush and paint Shigeo in good light. She can do this.

"Yes. I was very, very surprised when he came to me—incredibly grateful, absolutely, but you have to understand…"

"I do."

"He said that he wanted to offer me the opportunity to be the heiress to the Amida company." No visible reaction from Shigeo, so all good. "I'm not very knowledgeable in the business world, unfortunately, so I'm kind of his apprentice right now. Learning about everything I need to know if I want to run the company one day."

Kosuke knows that she's made another misstep. Shigeo shifts again. Mr. Ootori leans forward and places his elbows on the table, folding his hands together.

"How much do you know about 'the business world'?"

Uh-oh.

"Not…much, as I've said."

"Did you recognize anyone attending this event?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Do you know what Ootori Medical does?"

Uh-oh. "I believe it has ties to…the…medical field."

Stupid.

Mr. Ootori's eyebrows furrow just so. For the first time, he's starting to look displeased, and Kosuke can feel her grip on the metaphorical lifeline slipping. "Do you know what Amida Medical does?"

"It designs a-and manufactures machines and equipment for hospital use."

"Do you know Amida Medical's yearly revenue?"

"…No."

Stupidstupid.

"Do you know the partners of Amida Medical?"

"No…"

Stupidstupidstupid.

"Besides your father, can you name any other figures of Amida Medical?"

"…"

Stupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupidstupid.

"Miss Amida, how would you describe your own intelligence level?"

And suddenly, with no warning, like pure feral instinct, offense-triggered anger flares up in Kosuke too quickly to stifle down and she hotly declares, "I'm not stupid."

Those words hang in the air.

This is it, Kosuke thinks as her stomach plummets through the floor and Shigeo wipes his brow with his thumb. You've done it, you colossal idiot. All you had to do was keep your calm and not raise your voice and you couldn't do that because you're the most helpless creature to walk the face of this Earth. God is watching you, and he is shaking His head in pity.

As she thinks this, she can physically feel everything starting to fade away, like this whole situation was a brightly-lit room and she just flicked the light off. The dress is now horribly scratchy, this luxurious mansion feels like an abandoned building, and the trio sitting at the table has now become a hundred-person chorus pointing at her and chiding, You really thought this was going to work out, didn't you? What are you, braindead? You think this is a fairytale?

However…

Everything does not just instantly feel fine again, but Mr. Ootori finally reacts with nothing more than leaning back in his seat again. There's no way in hell he likes that she just raised her voice at him, but he doesn't seem offended. Not really.

He's waiting for her to continue.

"The…business world is something I was not expecting to have an effect on my life. I thought I was a completely average person with no ties to it. Now that Shigeo has made this offer to me—" She doesn't have time to decide if calling him Shigeo was bad. "—I plan on doing everything I can to learn about every aspect of Amida Medical and the people and environment that influence it. The only reason I haven't learned anything now is because…"

She glances over to the man her mother ran away from. He is watching her.

"…he didn't want to overwhelm me, with everything that's happened."

Kosuke doesn't want to sound pathetic, but she can't help but keep her voice soft. Apologetic, even. Mr. Ootori doesn't say anything, just nods at her to go on with maybe the gentlest look he's managed all night, which still isn't gentle.

"I have been in a very bad position this past year, Mr. Ootori. Not just financially. My mom and stepdad were…I lost them. And I had to figure out how to keep going without them to help me. I love my brother and sister to death, I'd do anything for them, but I didn't know what I was going to do. For a long time, I was terrified that something might happen and we could lose all of our money, and I wouldn't be able to take care of us anymore. Being offered what Shigeo is offering me is amazing, it is, and I'm so, so grateful, but it's just so much to take in at once."

Those words hang in the air. In the metaphorical room, Kosuke thinks that maybe someone has turned the lights halfway up again.

Mr. Ootori's hands are folded on the table, and for just a second, his pinky taps on the tablecloth as he thinks. His dark eyes go from Shigeo to Kosuke and back again. It's not horrible anymore, being looked at by him, but she's anxious. He is clearly considering something and she has no idea what.

Why is she here, again? Did she ever get that answer?

Mr. Ootori speaks again, in a slow voice that is a little hesitant, but has that This is the last thing I need to know tone. "Did Shigeo tell you why he and your mother divorced? Why she left, and why you never met him before?"

And Kosuke has to wonder, does he know? Because if he does, and she agrees, she won't be able to say what it is. Even if he doesn't, she isn't going to know that.

More importantly is what the question really is. "Do you know why your parents divorced at all?" or "Do you know why, and if so, do you still trust this man?"

Kosuke can't afford to even look at Shigeo, because no matter what expression he has—warning, panicked, indifferent—she can't let him affect her in any way. This man is not her father, he is a dealmaker. She is his partner in this scheme they are planning. No love, no trust, just business. She needs him, and he might just need her, too.

So in this scheme, they have roles, and Kosuke is the poor, helpless, but not stupid daughter Shigeo has finally found, and in such a sorry state, graciously extended his hand to save her. She is the damsel. She has to make him the hero.

"He offered to tell me, but I told him it doesn't matter." She goes on without waiting to see how either of them react. "He's offering me more help than I could have ever asked anyone for. That's all I need to know."

That is that, she thinks. The period at the end of the sentence, because the silence that follows is final. Kosuke keeps her eyes on Mr. Ootori but doesn't stare, Shigeo does stare, and Mr. Ootori only breaks his gaze away to look down at the table to contemplate once again.

Finally, he stands up. Shigeo follows, and so does Kosuke. Mr. Ootori and Shigeo give each other a bow that's more of a nod, and Kosuke again bends at the waist when he turns to her.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Amida. Mr. Amida, I will…stay in touch."

He walks away.

Kosuke and Shigeo stand there side-by-side, not looking at each other, assessing what has just happened.

Finally, after maybe fifteen full seconds of silence, Kosuke clears her throat and asks, "Did that go well?"

"Much better than I thought it would."

The slight relief in his voice is not directed at her. It has to do with whatever this whole thing is about. Speaking of, Kosuke is now significantly more confused than she was before she came to the party.

"Who is Mr. Ootori?" Shigeo pushes their chairs back to the table and isn't looking at her, but she goes on. "Why did I need to meet him?"

"If you need to know, you'll find out." Shigeo wholly ignores her flat look in favor of looking down at his wristwatch. "Let's return to the party. We don't want to look antisocial."

Kosuke doesn't get to agree or disagree. She hears Mr. Ootori's voice again, a little far away and maybe .2% more chipper, and thinks nothing of it. But then she hears a slightly louder, 100% more chipper, and horrifyingly familiar voice and freezes in place.

She can't turn around. He might recognize her. She instead looks to the window to catch his reflection and damn it.

Kosuke grabs Shigeo's elbow as calmly as she can, and keeps her face normal but her voice urgent as she whispers, "I know the man Mr. Ootori is talking to."

Shigeo almost whips his head around to look, and Kosuke watches the reflection. Tamaki—sweet, kind, why-the-hell-is-he-here Tamaki—is nothing but smiles as he talks to Mr. Ootori with far too much familiarity for Kosuke to be comfortable with. Mr. Ootori isn't smiling, but he seems like he could in the younger man's presence. So not only is he also familiar with Tamaki, but he has at least a semblance of fondness for him and that is terrible.

"Tamaki Suoh?" The way he hisses Suoh tells Kosuke that this is extra terrible. "How?"

"It doesn't matter. If he sees me, he's going to freak out and ask why I'm here and he might say stuff no one here is supposed to know!"

Thank goodness, Shigeo doesn't argue and instead looks subtly around the room to think of what to do. Kosuke is facing away from Tamaki, and she is holding onto the thin hope that he won't recognize her from behind, all gussied up in a dress.

Shigeo puts a hand on her shoulder and gently nudges her forward. "I'm going to call the driver to take you home. I'll tell everyone you weren't feeling good. Don't stop to talk to anyone. Go."

Kosuke does, briskly and in terror, praying so very hard that her leaving won't catch Tamaki's eye. She makes it out of the room and back outside, through the paved walkway to the courtyard and finally to the limousine waiting to carry her away.

Kosuke does not manage to keep her promise to not let her dress touch anything but her body. The second she makes it home and locks the door behind her, she slumps against the door, almost boneless, wondering if everything really just happened and if it was for anything.