bored411: Thank you!
argenteusvipera: Thanks! :)
bbymojo: No, no, I didn't take it badly at all! I was just joking, haha. Thank you!
Ro: Thanks a bunch!
With Kosuke's schedule, she can't frequent Minami's karate practice, and she hadn't expected otherwise. She'd thought it was going to be Minami's "own thing" with Kosuke's big-sister support.
Back when they were living on their own, when Kosuke would walk to the school to walk Minami and Hitsuji back, she'd try to get there a little early so Minami could have a bit more time to run around with her friends. Now, on the days Minami has practice, Kosuke's classes end just around the same time, and most of Minami's fellow karatekas are already gone by the time she gets there.
Minami always shows off her moves back at the mansion (with many hee-yahs and haaais) but she's clearly upset that Kosuke can't see her "properly" practice. Kosuke had promised that she would, if she ever could.
One day her class is let out fifteen minutes early, so Kosuke heads straight to the dojo, takes a seat, and beholds her burgeoning karate master of a sister. The dojo is palatial, but the students are just students, and it makes Kosuke feel a little better to see that they're not perfectly in unison, and that they teeter a bit when they stand on one foot. They're all diamonds in the rough, not just Minami.
She pulls out her phone and takes a short video to send to Haruhi, Ranka, and Tamaki. They were Minami's number-one fans ever since they first saw her in her gi.
While Kosuke scrolls through her contacts, she finds KYOYA among them. It makes her pause.
Would he like to see it to? Oh, who am I kidding? Of course it wouldn't. "Hey, look at this video of someone else having fun!"
She hadn't been able to talk to him during the Great Snowball War. She'd been too caught up in her duties as senior physician to make much chitchat. Too many bruised bodies and cocoa-less wounded to tend to. It wasn't until the white flag was waved, and Kosuke was covered head to toe in snow and basking in her body count (seventy-two total, thirty-six headshots) that she'd even realized he was gone. The snowman that became of Tamaki explained he'd had to get to work as soon as possible.
Tamaki also explained later, so distraught, that Kyoya had been suspended from Ootori Medical for a week.
This was two weeks after the fact. She'd hardly seen Kyoya at all, and she told Airi and Sugimoto what he'd told her: that Ootori Medical had so much end-of-year work to do, he had no time to spare. It wasn't until after the storm had passed that Yoshio decided to punish him for that day.
It's not that she doesn't understand the problem. "Well, Father, the reason I was late to work was because I was caught in a snowball fight…" Yeah, she knows why that wouldn't have flown over well, but she was there, and it wasn't just a snowball fight. Her hands are still shaking.
She considers going to Yoshio herself to plead Kyoya's case, but she knows that would just make things worse. In the best case scenario, Kyoya would be humiliated.
This is day two of his suspension. She's sent him a text message, Hey, just making sure everything is okay? He'd only responded, I'm fine. She knows he's not.
With one last bow to their sensei—Mori, meaning he was not just "helping"—the children break formation like balloons let loose. Minami rushes over to Kosuke to ask if she'd seen her, and Kosuke says she did, she did, and tells Minami to go get her things.
After she goes, Kosuke walks across the tatami mats to Mori. The students who walk past him gawk at him and his black obi. The legend in the flesh.
Kosuke bows to him, earning a hint of a smile. "Hello, Sensei. It looks like Minami's fit right in after all."
"She's good. Patient."
Not an adjective she was expecting, but she's pleased to hear it. "You know you're her favorite person in the world right now, right?"
"You own that title."
She chuckles. One of his students come with a question, bowing so low her forehead almost touches the mats. Kosuke steps back while they speak, and almost leaves to wait for Minami. Then she reconsiders.
After the student has bowed again and gone, Kosuke retakes her place and asks, "Have you heard anything from Kyoya lately?"
"No, but he didn't come to school today."
The worry is almost painful. "And you don't know why?"
"It wouldn't be without a good reason," he offers. "He's only missed school a few times in his life."
Unsurprising. Kosuke may have asked more, but she notices Minami standing to the side, waiting for them. She has her pink backpack and her shoes, but like always, she isn't taking her gi or obi off until Kosuke forces her to.
"Thanks, Mori. I'll see you later."
Minami should already be babbling away about today's lessons before Kosuke returns, yet they make it far outside the dojo before she even says a word.
"Kyoya's an adult."
Kosuke squints down at her. "What?"
Minami glances up at her. Her curls are tied back from her face and there's still sweat on her brow, which makes her frown look even deeper. "So he doesn't need you to fuss over him."
"Hey. Stop that."
Minami doesn't snap back. She has confirmed that Kyoya has done nothing wrong but not why she hates him. Kosuke has made it clear time and again that her ears are always open, but she's not going to accept I just don't like him as a reason for her rudeness.
"Now, tell me about what you learned today. Are you guys doing anything new?"
It takes some coaxing, but Minami takes the bait eventually. On the ride back to the mansion, she tells Kosuke about everything that had happened, like how she remembered not to tuck her thumb into her fist without being reminded, or how one student fell over and started crying and Sensei Morinozuka had to make sure he was okay. Kosuke has to cut it short when they're back—Minami's got homework to do and a sweaty gi to get washed. She seems to have forgotten that Kyoya was brought up in the first place.
Kosuke hasn't, though. She still has studying to do and essays to write, but she has to get her head clear first, otherwise she'll be distracted. She needs to figure out what's going to put her mind at ease, and public relations promises peaceful partnerships with the people isn't going to help.
It was Thursday that she'd heard of Kyoya's suspension, Friday that he didn't come to school, and Saturday that Kosuke decides to do something.
First she drops the children off at their grandparents'. They were going to spend a fun day with Airi and Sugimoto while Kosuke went to check up on Kyoya. Hitsuji was okay with that and Minami didn't say anything. Airi makes her promise that she'll give Kyoya her get-well wishes, and Sugimoto gives her a pair of knitted gloves to gift him, "because he never seems to wear them!"
Just like last time, the Ootori mansion makes her feel about as valuable as a one-yen coin. It feels sacrilege to be wearing jeans, but she swallows her self-consciousness and greets the staff member that opens the door for her.
"Apologies for the wait, Miss." He bows to her. "You're always welcome here, but we must confirm if Master Kyoya is willing to see anyone at the moment."
She nods, but squeezes the plush gloves until she can feel the individual threads. If he's so upset he doesn't even want talk to anyone, and he's missing school, then it's worse than she could have imagined. It also means she may have pushed a boundary.
Another house staff comes to lead the way. She hadn't seen much of the mansion the last time she was here, but nothing is surprising. Each hall is a miniature art gallery, every ten feet a different sculpture, vase, or painting, complete with little gold plaques with their names and creators. In the foyer she'd passed a giant family portrait, and only Fuyumi and Jin were smiling in it. Not exactly the kind of family photos she'd want hanging up.
When they get to Kyoya's bedroom door, the staff member turns to her, and extends a folded white square. "To enter, Master Kyoya requires you to wear this."
Even when she opens the cloth and sees that it's a mask, she still doesn't put two and two together. It takes going inside and seeing for herself.
"Oh, no. What happened?"
Kyoya is in bed, sitting up against a support of pillows with one sheet pulled up to his waist. That enough is alarming—it's nearing noon, and Kosuke wonders if he even sits once the sun rises—but on top of that, the strands of hair on his forehead are damp, his eyes are drooping, and his skin is pale save for a flush across his face.
Despite the physical misery he must be in, Kyoya still has the energy to be sarcastic. "You have to ask?"
They're not alone; Kosuke jumps when she's told, "Mask! Mask!"
While Kosuke pulls the bands behind her ears, Fuyumi drops a load of blankets on the foot of the bed. She's as colorful as ever. Kyoya looks like a corpse in comparison.
"Hey, Kosuke! Good to see you again. I wish it was under better circumstances."
She takes the first blanket off the stack and lets it fall open. She comes to Kyoya with it, and he raises a hand to stop her—it seems to take all his strength. "Fuyumi, I said no."
"Hush. I'm trying to get you comfy." Fuyumi pulls the comforter over him, then the blanket, then reaches for another. Kyoya closes his eyes and lets his head fall back on the pillows. "I'll call Yuuichi so I'll have doctor's orders!"
Probably Kosuke should be saying oh no I didn't realize you were sick, I'm sorry, I'll be going. But she's Kosuke, so of course she comes closer and asks, "Did you catch something? A stomach bug? Food poisoning?"
"Looks like a regular cold," Fuyumi says, stretching out the fourth blanket. "Who can be surprised? You've hardly been getting a wink of sleep. Your immune system must be as strong as a house of cards right now."
"Well—here, hold on." Further down, Kosuke takes the ends of the blankets and pulls them over the vague bump of Kyoya's feet. Then she tucks them in. Then she sees a glass of water on his nightstand, sweating but without ice. She goes for it. "I'll—"
"No. No." Kyoya pulls the glass out of reach. "I am not going to be babied by two people when I can barely stand one."
"You did this to yourself!" Fuyumi turns to Kosuke and points down at her baby brother. "He almost fell down the stairs, he was so weak, but all he would say was I'm fine and It's nothing. He was going to go to school when he could hardly keep his head up!"
Kyoya winces as a headache throbs between his temples. "Please stop yelling."
Just looking at him, Kosuke can feel everything he does—the headache, the stiff back, the burning eyes. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and says, "I came by to check if you were okay."
"I'm not. Feel free to go now."
It's not that she wants to protest, but she has to ask, "Why didn't you just have someone tell me I was sick before letting me in?"
"Because I knew that if you didn't see me for yourself, you weren't going to buy it. I had to do the same thing with Tamaki just a while ago and he still had to be dragged out."
That's not—Well.
She could've just called, she guesses.
"Wait, that's why?" Fuyumi gives his shoulder a small, I'm-angry-but-you're-sick slap. "I thought you wanted to see her because it would cheer you up! Don't be a jerk and waste her time like that!"
He winces again. "I'm. Sorry."
"Do you want me to go?"
Fuyumi says no while Kyoya snaps yes. Fuyumi sighs through her mask—which is the exact same light blue as her blouse, like she color-coordinated—and shakes her head at him. It is an older-sister motion that Kosuke knows well.
"Well, before you sadly go, I need your help with something." Fuyumi ushers Kosuke to the door. "Come on."
They leave Kyoya's room, go down the stairs, and pass through two more art galleries before they finally get to the kitchen. It's the same as Kosuke remembers it, stainless steel on top of stainless steel, except this time there's a pot on the stovetop.
Fuyumi takes the lid off, unleashing a cloud of steam. Inside, a clear, greenish broth is simmering.
"He's a little nauseous, but I think he's hungry, too, so I wanted to make him something light. Can you try this and see what you think?"
"Of course I can! Here…"
Kosuke takes a ladle off the rack, dips it in and takes a sip.
She picks up notes of ginger. Garlic. Pepper.
Those are just eighth notes, drowned out by about ten thousand whole notes of salt.
She gets the other flavors for half a second before every bit of moisture on her tongue is sapped away. It is worse than seawater. If Kosuke took a can of salt and dripped a single drop of water into it, she thinks it still wouldn't be as salty as this.
Fuyumi awaits her opinion with eager eyes. Kosuke pretends to smack her lips to really assess the flavors and not to get her tongue in working order again. "Yeah! That's good. He'll—He'll like that."
"Oh, thank goodness. I like to cook for him when I can. I just think food tastes better when it's made by someone special, you know? But it's been a while since I've made soup and I don't have a recipe remembered, so I had to wing it. I've been making him tea, too. I brewed some for him last night and forgot it on the stove—the whole thing just about boiled over into the flames!" Fuyumi presses her fingers to her forehead, humiliated. "I was so busy running around with his medicine and his pillows, I completely forgot!"
Kosuke, wondering if all her tastebuds just got chemically ruined, pauses. "How long have you been taking care of him?"
"About a day now? Since I heard he was sick yesterday."
"What about you? Haven't you gotten any rest?"
"Oh, sure, I have! I stayed here last night. But I woke up every hour to see if he needed anything. Just to be safe, you know?"
Kosuke doesn't think that's safe at all, and though she's probably a hypocrite for thinking it, she's sure Fuyumi is going to worry herself until she's as sick as Kyoya. If it had been something besides a pot of tea forgotten on the stove…
Also, if Kyoya eats this soup, his blood pressure is going to reach the moon in one sip.
"Fuyumi, listen…Why don't you let me take over? You can go home and get some rest."
"What? No, no! It's not a problem at all! You came here to stop by, not to be left alone with—"
She stops.
And smiles.
"Well, if you're sure. You promise you don't mind?"
The sudden switch isn't missed, but Kosuke will take an easy way out any time. "I promise!"
"Alright, then! I'll come back tonight. You just call if you need anything!"
While Fuyumi's chauffer drives over, she and Kosuke chat, and she tends to the broth. Mainly by adding more salt and never tasting it. When she goes, Kosuke waits until her limousine has gone out of sight. Then she pours the broth down the drain and mourns the waste of ingredients.
She thinks Kyoya could use some time alone, so she stays there in the kitchen and whips up her classic "sick soup." She pauses in chopping up the carrots and celery to call Airi and Sugimoto and make sure that it's okay for her to stay longer. They say it absolutely is and Airi makes her double-promise to send Kyoya her well-wishes.
She carries a bowl of soup on a tray back to Kyoya's room, but almost goes right back when she opens the door. His head is back, eyes closed, chest rising and falling slowly. He seems dead asleep, but just at the sound of her footsteps, his eyes open and find her. She knows that purgatory of sickness: so exhausted that all you want to do is sleep, but your body won't let you.
He doesn't look very excited to see the bowl in her hands. Fuyumi must have cooked for him yesterday, too. "If Fuyumi is searching for more blankets, could you tell her I can't be 'comfy' if I suffocate first?"
"She's not getting more blankets, don't worry."
"Good. Now, you can leave. I don't need—"
He stops when she sets the bowl down. He's seen this soup before. And maybe he realizes just how long it's been since he's last seen Fuyumi, and that there are still folded blankets to be suffocated with.
His head falls back again.
"I'll have you know, I'm not that bad of a nurse. Now eat. An empty stomach is just going to make you feel worse."
She picks up the glass of iceless water. He still doesn't lift his head, so she puts the glass back down, picks up his hand, and sets the spoon into his palm.
"I'll be back in just a second. If you haven't touched that when I come back, I'm going to assume you need to be spoon-fed."
When she returns, he's dutifully taking spoonful after spoonful of soup, reluctant and hungry at the same time. With how warm and damp he is, she takes all the blankets off yet again, and folds them while he eats. She offers him a second serving; he refuses, so she makes him drink some water instead.
After that, she clears the bowl away, opens the bottles sitting on his nightstand, and makes him take ibuprofen for the headache and fever. She goes to the bathroom for a cloth, wets it with cool water, and has him sling it over his neck for comfort. The blankets go back into the linen closet, which makes her realize something.
His eyes are just barely open when she comes back, and narrow even smaller when she takes the sleeve of his pajama shirt and feels the limp fabric between her fingers.
"Can you move?"
"To do what?"
"To change." The walk-in closet lights up by motion sensor. On a shelf she finds another pair of pajamas, breathable gray silk, and takes it. "If you've been wearing those since you've gotten sick, you need a fresh change of clothes."
He lifts a limp hand up to his collar, and wrinkles his nose at the dampness of water and sweat. It's not without a small groan, but he moves, pushing the blanket back and leaning up from his pillows. "Fine."
Kosuke sets the pajamas on the bed for him, then goes back and readjusts a crooked pair of shoes she'd noticed. Satisfied with that, she goes back and turns off the desk lamp that had been left on. Fuyumi must have left the empty coffee cup while she was here, so she picks that up, too.
When she looks back to Kyoya, the pajamas are still folded beside him, and he's waiting.
"Is something wrong?"
"Are you going to leave, or do you want me to change in front of you?"
"Oh! Right. Sorry. I'll, uh. I'll be right back."
She scurries out and comes across a house staff dusting a Grecian bust off. She offers to take the cup, but Kosuke declines; she's going to make him some tea anyway. Seeing that staff member, and two more on the way to the kitchen, reminds her that Kyoya doesn't really need her or Fuyumi here. Moreso, he doesn't want either of them here. Maybe she really should have just left when he'd asked; but she had promised Fuyumi she'd stay.
It only takes a few minutes to get some ginger tea prepared; his voice had sounded just a touch scratchy when he'd spoken last. On her way back to his room, something feels different. There'd been a marble pillar with a vase before, hadn't there? Only the vase is gone now. And over on that wall, she thinks there used to be an impressionist painting.
From the other end of the hall comes that same staff member who had been dusting off the bust when she'd passed by earlier, except now she's carrying a box that is suspiciously the same size as the bust, with FRAGILE stamped in clear red ink across the front. A packing peanut falls off of her as she passes by—Kosuke pressing herself to the wall to give her space.
Tea forgotten, she goes to the nearest window. She hadn't even noticed that a truck had pulled into the driveway. It's as large and hulking as a moving truck, but sleek black and steely. The bust joins a collection of other boxes at the bottom of the steps. She thinks she sees that impressionist painting swaddled up in layers and layers of film. A team of men and women are lifting the pieces one-by-one up into the truck, quickly but with the utmost care. Probably a light scuff on anything could cost them millions.
In just the short time it'd taken for Kosuke to brew the tea, they'd picked the hallway to Kyoya's room clean. Or had she just not noticed before? Either way, it is eerily empty now.
She opens the door with her hip. Kyoya's changed, and slung the damp cloth back around his neck.
"Here."
She sets the teacup on his nightstand, and he sighs. "If I needed anything, I would just ask."
"Well, if your throat is as sore as it sounds, you should ask for something."
He takes up the teacup, again with a reluctant silence. She pulls his comforter down and his sheet up, earning her a look she doesn't care to notice.
"So what's going on? Are you guys rotating the art out?"
She regrets asking as soon as she does, because clearly he doesn't want to converse right now, sore throat or not.
Then, infinitely worse, his answer: "No. Mother is moving into her own estate. Virtually every piece of art in here is hers, so they're all going with her."
"Oh. I see." So had Jin and Yoshio's divorce been finalized? She'd never thought to ask; it's not a happy subject to bring up. "But the whole mansion, it isn't hers?"
"No. It's in my father's name. It's just the mansion we all happened to grow up in."
"So, if all your siblings are gone, too, is it just going to be you and your father now?"
"Just me. Father has an apartment very close to work. He prefers to stay there than here."
Kosuke nods and wonders why on earth she's still talking about it. He already feels physically sore, now she has to inflict emotional pain on top of that?
"Well...Maybe you can decorate now! You've got an eye for art, I'm sure you could spruce this place up."
She says that, but looking around his room, she wouldn't call it "spruce-y." It's a stunning room, straight out of a five-star hotel, but that's just it. It looks like a hotel room. There's a giant TV and wall-to-floor windows and a bed as big as a football field, but there are no photos or keepsakes to be seen. The best hint of personality are the pens on the desk.
Kyoya takes a sip of tea. "Maybe. I hadn't thought of it."
She really should have just brought him some soup and left.
Kosuke doesn't say another word until he finishes his tea. He takes her up on the offer for another cup, but tells her to just leave it on the nightstand. He rests his head back on the pillows, closes his eyes, and goes back to the in-between realm of awake and asleep. It leaves Kosuke alone to feel absolutely rotten. Even as she gets him another glass of cold water, and tweaks the thermostat to get some cold air in, she feels as annoying as a bug buzzing in his ear.
She decides that if he really wants to be alone, she'll let him. All he'll have to do is give Fuyumi a little white lie and say Kosuke left just a bit before she came back, not hours earlier.
Kyoya cracks an eye open when he hears her at his side. Annoyance oozes out of his every pore, which just fuels her decision more.
"Hey, listen. I'll go if you really want me to. Is there anything else you want before I do?"
She expects an immediate no, not for him to pause and consider. She really hopes it's for himself, and that he's not worrying about hurting her feelings.
"One last thing."
"Okay."
He points a finger to his desk. "Over there. Open the bottom drawer."
The bottom drawer is deep, stacked to the top with papers and folders. Kosuke grunts pulling ot open. Kyoya instructs her to take everything out until she can get to the bottom, where there is one black binder. She tucks everything else back into the drawer and delivers it to him, along with a mechanical pencil.
He reaches over to adjust the lamp on the nightstand, but he fumbles so much she just does it herself, tilting the shade so the light will fall onto his lap.
Just like how being handed a mask should have told her that Kyoya was sick, this should have told her that he wasn't planning on taking a nap. When Kyoya flips the binder open, it's packed cover-to-cover with pages, and on each page there are so many numbers, it's like he's writing pi down from memory. Some if it is print, some of it is writing, but all of it is work.
She snatches the binder out of his hands.
His surprise doesn't last long. He glares at her, probably the worst since they first met. "What?"
"You are not going to work while you're sick." She snaps the binder shut for emphasis. "You have a headache as-is, and you can barely lift your hand!"
"It's not work; it's a personal project."
"A personal project that involves work."
"You're being ridiculous. Just give it back."
Inside the front pocket, there's a few empty pages, probably for scratchwork. Kosuke pulls one out, sets it atop the binder, and puts it in his lap. "Prove to me that you can even write right now."
He tries. He's strong enough to move his wrist and write his name, but she knows exactly what he's feeling. Concentration flares the headache. His wrist goes stiff no matter how he holds it. Moving his arm makes an ache shoot down his back.
Finally he relinquishes the pencil and pushes the binder to her, glowering down so furiously he might just burn a hole into his bedsheets. Kosuke holds the binder to her chest.
"Are you bored? Do you want to do something?"
"No." He places his hand over his eyes, pushing his glasses up his forehead. "I'm not bored. But I can't just sit here and be unproductive for another twenty-four hours."
"Why?"
He doesn't answer. She really doesn't want to say it—it seems so cruel—but if it'll give him a wake-up call, she thinks she has to. Otherwise he's inflicting more pain on himself.
"Kyoya, I'm really, really not trying to be mean, but I thought you didn't have to go back to work for a week, anyway?"
Unsurprisingly, irritation radiates off him, heat from a fire. Still he doesn't say anything.
"I know you're upset, but...If you're not supposed to be working, you're not supposed to be working. I don't think it's fair, but I think your father will just be more annoyed if he finds out you were doing this when you—"
"Father is never going to see this. It's a personal project, like I said."
"Then does it have some kind of deadline on it?"
"No."
"Then why do you have to work on it when you can hardly keep your eyes open?"
"Just forget it. I can't do anything with it anyway, so there's no point in talking about it."
Time to go. Don't even say goodbye, just go.
She goes back to the bottom drawer of his desk and pulls everything back out again. In placing the binder back on the bottom, she sees a paper has come loose. Maybe she did that when she was taking one out earlier.
She pulls it out, not intending to read it as she tucks it back into the front pocket. She doesn't want to pry, and whatever is on these documents, she probably isn't going to understand them anyway.
On the paper, she distantly registers the name Ootori. Then a few other words, and she really isn't trying to pry, but the combination of them all together throws her for a loop.
"What?"
Did she read the words aloud? Geez. "Nothing."
"It's not nothing. What did you say?"
Great. Now he's in a mood. "I said, 'Tropical Aqua Garden.' Whatever this page is about; it just fell out."
The binder goes back into the drawer. When she stands to her feet again, Kyoya is watching her.
"Why so confused?"
"Because I didn't think Ootori Medical had anything to do with the luxury resort business. Unless it's your personal resort, in which case I guess I'm not surprised."
"It's not. It's..." He sighs again. "It was a venture into diversity. The intention was a place for restoration—like a therapeutic resort."
"That's not a bad idea."
"It's not an idea at all. It exists."
"But it's not working?" Kosuke sits at the end of the bed, careful to avoid his feet. "I'm not trying to pry, but it looks like you guys are having trouble turning a profit."
"Not at all. It's not 'us guys,' either, it's just me." He pauses for so long Kosuke thinks that's that, and goes to stand just when she sat down. Kyoya goes on, letting his hand fall to his side. "The Tropical Aqua Garden is very successful, but with just a few tweaks we could make even more out of it."
"You mean by raising prices?"
"Not necessarily. We could invest more in advertising for a greater payoff. We could even open other locations and multiply the income."
"Um..." He doesn't lift his head to look at her, but she knows he is. "I'm—confused. You said it's just you, but you're saying 'we.'"
He takes off his glasses altogether and rubs at his temples again. Kosuke gets up and goes to the nightstand for the headache reliever. "It's just a possibility I investigated. Just in case."
"In case of what?"
He takes the pill with a few swallows of tea, but it's still takes forever for him to make up his mind to answer.
"In case we were ever in the position we were in when DomenMed left again."
Now why would he deliberate telling me that?
Oh. Right. I'M the reason why they're not in that position anymore.
And also the reason why they could be again in the future...
She thinks he watches her from the corner of his eye, but she has no reason to be offended. She gets it. Ootori Medical almost collapsed without DomenMed. People were about to leave like it was a sinking ship. She knows the importance of backup plans.
"I get it. Is that what that whole binder is?"
He lies his head back down. "Yes."
"Hm. That's impressive." He cracks an eye open. "Really! I mean, if it would work—and it sounds like it would—it sounds like you could save the entire company, huh?"
He shifts a bit uncomfortably. "'Saved' is a strong word."
"I still think it's pretty amazing. Have you ever brought it up to anyone?"
"No. I'm not sure why I would."
"Well...I know it'd be pretty awkward to say, 'Hey, in case this thing we've spent a lot of time on doesn't work out, let's do this instead.' But it's practical."
"That's not..." He shakes his head. "That's not what I mean. Father's opinion would be the only one that would matter, and he wouldn't be interested."
"Why not? I'd think he'd be really proud of you."
Kyoya downs the rest of his tea, suddenly looking...jittery. Even when he's not one blink away from losing all his energy, he's usually so aware of his figure from the top of his head to the tips of his fingers.
Kosuke doesn't say anything, for fear of making it worse, and watching Kyoya's mouth open and close—hesitating, unsure—only further silences her.
"I'm not sure if anyone ever told you this," he begins. His voice is slow and careful. "I know I haven't. Have you ever heard of the Grand Tonnere Group?"
The name scratches at a memory. "Tonnere...Tonn—Wait. Wait, isn't that the name of the girl that Tamaki was going to get engaged to?"
Kyoya rolls his sagging eyes—not at her, but at their idiot of a friend. Kosuke had never met this Tonnere girl, of course, and the accounts were conflicting. The twins had not a nice word to say about her, while Tamaki and Haruhi had both said she'd probably just got so head-over-heels for a shadow that she didn't realize what harm she was doing. In any case, it was obvious to everyone that Tamaki was too far gone for Haruhi by then, and almost threw away his happily-ever-after for this "Éclair."
"Yes, the same one. Anne-Sophie had been a housekeeper at her family's Parisian estate for a few years. That's how she heard about Tamaki."
"You're kidding!"
"I'm not. But I am getting off-track. The Grand Tonnere Group would have bought out Ootori Medical."
Kosuke has to let that sink in. She can't even fathom a number large enough to buy out Ootori Medical. The Grand Tonnere Group is based in Europe—that must be why she's only heard about such a leviathan of a group as "that girl that Tamaki almost married."
"I'm gathering that would have been bad?"
"It would mean that Ootori Medical would belong to an entirely different family. 'Ootori' would have been an ironic title."
"So...Why would your father even consider it?"
"He didn't. The Grand Tonnere Group attempted a hostile takeover." Kosuke tries to think. Has she learned this term in her studies yet? Kyoya sees her confusion, and explains, "They went past my father and appealed to the shareholders instead. They resisted, but not without consideration. The Grand Tonnere Group's last play would have been a bid that probably would have changed everyone's mind."
Kosuke nods, following what she's being told but now why she's being told it. "Okay. Obviously that didn't happen."
"No, it didn't."
Kyoya is only staring up at the ceiling, lost in his memories.
"Wait, did you do something?"
He hums. "I did."
"Wh—How? Did you tell them to back off? Did you—?" She flaps a hand in the direction of the desk and the binder. "Did you do something like that?"
She's leaning forward now, propping herself up on one arm, amazed. Kyoya is just the opposite. Even if he wasn't sick, Kosuke thinks he would be just as he is now, lying back and thinking of the past without a smile.
"I anonymously outbid them. They retreated, Ootori Medical remained as it was, and the only person who ever found out were me and my father."
Kosuke almost gapes at him, in awe. She'd thought Kyoya was the smartest person she'd ever met and she'd still underestimated his genius.
If it were her, she'd be preening like a bird, chest puffed out and head held high. Yet there Kyoya lays, still and quiet, with every word taking more energy out of him.
"I'm...confused. How is that a bad thing?"
His eyebrows go up for just a second, as though wondering the same thing.
"I did what I did to help my family. I didn't do it to show off."
"Alright?"
"But by doing so, I unintentionally insulted my father."
Kosuke's so confused, she doesn't even manage to say "What?" Just, "Wh...?" Kyoya clicks his tongue.
"It was his problem to solve. I had no right to step in and do what I did. Even if I did it to help our family, I overrode his authority."
She doesn't think she's hearing right. "Wait, so your father is angry at you for helping your family, just because it made him look bad?"
"It didn't just 'make him look bad.' If anyone else had found out, he would have looked weak. The CEO of Ootori Medical, outsmarted by his youngest son. His leadership and ability would have been questioned by everyone."
"But...You just did it to help."
"It doesn't matter. Isn't it possible to do harm with good intentions?"
"I wouldn't call a wounded ego 'harm.'"
He gives her a look, and she closes her mouth. Right. She can't just go insulting his father and her future father-in-law like that.
"It's not wounded ego. I was stupid. I did something dangerous, and it could have cost all of us."
Stupid? Kosuke doesn't think that's the word she would use for the ingenious chess move he pulled, but clearly he doesn't want to hear any objections, so she says nothing.
"The reason I'm telling you all of that," he goes on, "is because some good came out of it. As the thirdborn son, I was never expected to have any heirdom of Ootori Medical. My father had little expectations of me other than the bare minimum. However, as reckless as what I did was, it did demonstrate some of my capacity to him. Since then, he's allowed me to prove myself."
She nods, not entirely surprised. It makes sense; the pieces go together. His determination to never rest, the way he rushes to go to work every day.
Ah, wait. He'd told her about this before. On their first date, when they were eating okonomiyaki. "Something occurred that made it particularly important that I prove myself worthy of joining Ootori Medical."
A horrible realization hits her. "So when you got suspended..."
He closes his eyes again; flinching. "When I was most needed, I was far away, stuck in the middle of a children's game. I took all the progress I've made since I started and threw it into the trash."
"Hey. That's not true. Your father can't possibly think that." He doesn't respond, so she reiterates, "Wouldn't he have just fired you outright instead of suspending you?"
His brow goes up and down again. He shifts on the pillows with a heavy sigh. "I can't show Father what I've been working on. I would be insulting him to his face again."
"That's a lot of work, though. For something that you're never going to share with him."
"As I said, it's purely for backup. An emergency plan, just in case we are out of any other options."
He takes the last sips of his tea. The porcelain clinks sharply in the quiet. Kosuke taps her fingers on the comforter and basks with these new revelations. She hates that she's learning everything about her future father-in-law secondhand; and she hates what she's learning about him. She feels guilty, even. If she'd known the stakes, she would have tried to get him out of the Great Snowball War herself. She could have been his body-shield, or something like that.
"Can I just ask one more thing? Then I'll leave it alone, I promise." He nods. He doesn't look annoyed. "I understand how much you care about your family. I think you'd do anything you could to help them. What I don't get is...Why do you want to work at Ootori Medical so badly? You're great at what you do, but if you didn't have anything to inherit, it sounds like you were...free, I guess."
She understands the way he pauses this time. He's thought of this question before, but maybe he keeps running into it.
"I want to be useful to my family," he answers. "I've always thought that the best way to do that would be with Ootori Medical. That's all."
She doesn't push it because she promised. She just doesn't buy it. Not just because of how carefully he answers, as though reading from a textbook, but because of everything she's learned of the Ootori family.
She won't question Kyoya's love for his family. He loves his sister dearly; he seems to have a soft spot for his mother, in spite of the grievances she has caused him. As for his brothers and his father, they seem to just be business partners. She does not understand why Kyoya would design his life for his brothers and his father, who seem to regard him so coldly.
Maybe she's taking the 'family' too literally. It's not just his nuclear relatives; it could be he feels some responsibility to uphold the kingdom his forefathers have sowed for him. Maybe.
"Alright." She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, her Amida ring snagging on the band of her mask. "Thank you for telling me."
He asks, "Do you understand?"
"I think so," she lies. Then she doesn't. "I still think that what you did—and what you do—is really admirable, though. I know your father would disagree, but. Well. I'm not him." She breaks her promise. "Have you ever thought about opening your own company one day?"
He looks at her again, with something she can't place. "No. Have you?"
"Me? No. I just thought, since you seem to know everything there is to know."
Kyoya readjusts his glasses. He rubs his palm over his forehead, but it's a tired movement, not pained.
"Anyway. I'll leave, if you want me to."
His answer is decidedly kinder this time. "There just isn't any need for you to stay. I don't need to be tended to and there's nothing I can do, anyway."
"Well, you could...Let's see." Kosuke looks around the room. He has books on his shelves, but if he's the way she is when sick, he won't even have the strength to turn the pages. She thinks she saw a chessboard in his closet; same thing. Across his bed, on the opposite wall, the great flatscreen TV hangs above. "Do you want to watch a movie?"
She goes to the shelves beneath before he answers, pulling open the sliding doors. "We could watch, uh..." She doesn't know how to finish. None of these look like movies Kyoya would like. A Winter Wedding. Starcrossed Lovers. Tell Me You Love Me. Except. Well. They are Kyoya's, apparently.
"They're Fuyumi's. She brought them all over for a movie night that never was." He flicks a hand at them. "Just pick something."
Delighted, she grabs one at random and slides it into the player. She pulls an armchair to Kyoya's bedside, and the two stay like that for the duration, Kosuke curled up with a blanket and Kyoya on his pillows. They stop once for water, and Kosuke would've made popcorn while she was at it, except none is to be found in the entire mansion.
Just like when she and Okina had their sleepovers, she gets way too invested in the hour-and-a-half of sappy romance. By the end, watching the two lovers walk into the sunset until their figures are swallowed by the light, Kosuke lets out an aw. "I'm happy they ran away together in the end."
"Hm."
Kosuke looks over at him, because that's not a response of any kind. "'Hm'? You weren't even paying attention, were you?"
"I told you, those are Fuyumi's movies, not mine."
"You could've told me you didn't want to watch one."
"You enjoyed the movie. Why are you upset?"
For the first time since she's come, footsteps come down the hall right to Kyoya's door. Fuyumi trots in with a wave, already masked up again. "Hey there! I'm back." She looks up at the TV, now scrolling the credits with a cheesy romantic pop song in the background. "Wh—How come you watch movies with Kosuke but not with me?"
"Now's your chance." Kyoya holds a fist in front of his mouth, taking in a deep breath and holding his jaw tight. Kosuke could almost hit him. Just let yourself yawn! We're the only ones who can see you! "Do it while I can't resist."
"Really?!" Fuyumi flings the sliding door of the cabinet open and starts filing through them. "Hold on, hold on, let me get a good one!"
"I think that's my cue to go." Kosuke stands and stretches, joints stiff from curling up for almost two hours. "I need to get the kids and call it a night."
"Maybe you could stay for dinner. Was there any of that soup left? There may be enough for all of us!"
"Uh—Kyoya actually ate all of it! Yep. Every drop. Isn't that right, Kyoya?"
She worries he might not catch on, but he does. Instantly. "Yes, I was very hungry."
"I made some more soup for you guys to have tonight, but I really should get going." Kosuke folds up the blanket, then reaches over and touches Kyoya's forehead again. "Hey, I think your fever's gone."
"It feels like it." Kyoya takes his glasses off again and rubs at his brow, biting down another yawn. "Do I look better?"
It's difficult to explain, and probably weird, and maybe insensitive...but Kosuke finds that she actually kind of likes seeing Kyoya like this. Not sick—heavens, no. Just relaxed. Hair a little tousled, not all dressed up in a tie and a pressed suit. He looks no better or worse without his glasses—he's like half the people she knows nowadays, and would probably look attractive covered in dirt—but without them, it's like he's letting his guard down, and Kosuke feels like it's a privilege that he's comfortable enough to show it.
Then, looking at him all relaxed and sleepy, in his pajamas with his tousled hair, Kosuke realizes that she's seen him like this before. Because despite all of her meditating before bed, and trying not to eat an hour before, and taking extra melatonin to really knock her out, she'd still managed to have one or two of those dreams—nightmares?—dreams where he's not only like this, but she's lying down on the other side of the bed with him and she wakes up and they say good morning and he leans over to—
"A lot better! Much better. But—uh—Yeah! I need to—go. Now. I need to go now."
She grabs her coat and pulls it on without bothering with the buttons. Fuyumi doesn't take her head out of the cabinet as she says, "Goodbye, Kosuke! Thank you so much!"
"Of course! Bye, Fuyumi. Bye, Kyoya!"
While she's pulling the door shut behind her, she hears Kyoya say, "Thank you." She feels like a jerk for not responding, but it's for the best. The mask feels so hot now; her blush feels like it's pooling into it.
She has another one of those dreams that night. She blames Starcrossed Lovers, so she watches a horror movie at two in the morning. That helps.
When she's exhausted the next day, she chalks it up to that lack of sleep. It's fine. It's the weekend, so once she gets her studies out of the way, she and the kids can just be lazy.
Before she goes to bed that night—channeling They Come from the Woods' images of zombies feasting on human flesh—she feels a headache starting at her temples. Again, lack of sleep. No issue.
Then morning comes, and not only is she still tired, and not only is the headache still there, but her back feels as stiff as concrete, her throat is burning, and her kitty-and-desserts pajamas are soaked in sweat.
Just her luck.
For once, the mansion staff have to help Minami and Hitsuji get ready for school. Kosuke talks to them through the door, but she's rasping like a dying animal, so she thinks they always leave before she finishes.
In all the months she's been at Ouran now, this is her first sick day. She used to love sick days. She used to spend 90% of her time lying in bed anyway; being officially permitted to was just an added bonus.
Now, she gets where Kyoya was coming from. Even with her hair sticking to the back of her neck, and one blanket being too cold but two blankets being too hot, she wants to study or work or something. Logic says she's not being unproductive, but her mind says she is.
It's lonely, too. She texts the others a heads-up that she won't be at school—the twins, Reiko, and the Zukas all wish her well, and Tamaki offers three times to come over. Otherwise she's too weak to even text, and her only company is the staff that bring her ginger tea and clear chicken broth.
Again she can only watch movies, and she needs them to be as unromantic as possible, so over the day she watches a documentary about ice cream, two episodes of an obstacle course competition, and another horror film.
At the very end of the horror flick, the door opens with a little knock. Minako, the youngest of the mansion staff, steps in—pauses when the woman on the TV shrieks in horror—and explains, "Your fiancé is here to see you, Miss."
What? Kosuke blinks at her a few times (regretfully; blinking makes her eyes burn), and fumbles with the remote to pause the movie. "Uh...Thank you. You can send him up. But tell him to wait outside."
A few minutes later, Kyoya calls from the other side of the door, "Kosuke? Can I come in?"
"No! Stay out there. Now I'm sick."
"I'm wearing a mask."
"I wore a mask and I got sick!"
"Well, I should have immunity for a few days. I'm coming in."
He pushes the door open, so Kosuke grabs her blankets and pulls them over the bottom half of her face. Kyoya looks stunning compared to the last time she saw him. His color has returned to his cheeks. He's in a sweater and slacks, not her definition of casual, but probably his.
Kosuke feels like a blob of garbage in comparison.
"If you just got better, then don't just get sick again!"
"What was that?" She glares bloodshot daggers at him. "I think there's an old saying...'How the tables turn'?"
He's not going, and the blankets are muggy on her face now, so she drops her hands and sighs. Or tries to, anyway. The dryness in her throat flares up again, and she reaches for her tea. He goes to the armchair, draping his coat on the back. For some reason the sight of him sitting there is familiar. Why?
"By the way, I'm assuming these are mine?" He pulls the gloves from the pocket of the coat. "I think you forgot them when you came over."
Which means she also forgot to keep her promise to Airi, but anyway. "Seriously, Kyoya, you don't have to return the favor. And you don't want to see me like this."
He shakes his head and sets something down on her nightstand. A small, plain box. "Such a hypocrite. No protests. You wouldn't hear any from me and now I won't hear any from you."
She wants to argue, she does. But arguing takes effort. And she's tired.
So she sits back.
"Good. Now here." He opens the parcel and pulls out a bundle of little wrapped candies that crinkle in his palm. "My throat wasn't bothering me that much, so I skipped these, but I've found they always help. They don't taste like poison, for added measure."
The cough drops are lemon-flavored, and soothe the dryness in her throat instantly. Kyoya pulls a corner of her blanket over her feet, looks up, looks down, and looks up again.
"Not the type of movie I thought you would be interested in."
She'd paused the film right at the very last scene, where the Final Girl thinks she's safe, only for the monster to jump out at her from the last second. It's not a bloodbath yet, but judging by how close the blades of the giant scissors are to her neck, one isn't far away.
"I just put on something random." She coughs. Half-awkward, half-her-throat-is-dry. "Same thing. I'm bored but I don't want to do anything. Here." She grabs the remote and pushes it over to him. "Change it."
She means this as an invitation to pick something he would like, since he'd given her the courtesy last time. Instead Kyoya very reasonably assumes she would like to see another romance movie and flicks through the channels until he finds one. It's a few minutes in already, and the two leads have just met one another, unable to look away.
Kyoya gets her some cold water. If she could ask for just one thing, it wouldn't even be to be completely better; she just wants her voice back so she could scream her lungs out before he comes back. But that doesn't happen, of course, and Kyoya comes back with the ice water. Sitting there for the next two hours, watching two people fall in love in scenes all too much like the dreams the man sitting next to her appear in, she's tempted to take that water and drown herself with it.
Chapter Summary
Kyoya missing work due to the Great Snowball War earns him a week-long suspension from Ootori Medical. During this suspension, he doesn't come to school one day, so Kosuke decides to visit. She finds out Kyoya is sick, with Fuyumi taking care of him. Despite Kyoya's protests, Kosuke takes over Fuyumi as caretaker. While doing so she finds out Jin is moving out of the estate, meaning it will be only Kyoya living there in the future. Kyoya tries to work on his project, but Kosuke refuses to let him. Kyoya finally reveals to Kosuke how he saved Ootori Medical from the Grand Tonnere Group, and why he thus has to prove himself to his father. Kosuke has no solutions, but praises his work. The two watch a movie until Fuyumi returns. Kosuke has more romantic dreams about Kyoya, and worse, she catches a cold from him. Kyoya comes to the Amida mansion to return the favor and take care of her, not realizing how flustered Kosuke is.