bbymojo: Kyoya and Kosuke, sitting in a (sky) tree...I don't know why that came to mind lol. Thanks for the review!

Akari Wolf Princess: Kyoya "If I don't think about it then I don't have to deal with it" Ootori, honestly. Thank you for the review!

bored411: Kyoya's called Kosuke a friend a few times now, though mostly in his thoughts. They've officially hit the "best friends" stage and are on their way to more, except neither of these two idiots realize it. Thanks!

It's not fair that the weeks after Spring Break always seem to be the busiest...Woof.

It seems that all the life of Ouran is at the party. The halls are quiet, hardly a student to be seen, and their footsteps echo off the high ceilings.

Once Kyoya pulls his phone out of his pocket, checks for messages, and tucks it away again. He's been doing that with increased frequency as of late, and it seems so innocuous, but Kosuke knows it isn't.

She also knows that she's started seeing him around the campus when she usually doesn't, and the inverse. She knows that there is an unnatural tightness to his shoulders and that there are shadows under his eyes.

If these signs had all popped up a week from now, Kosuke's answer would be Ootori Medical, which perhaps isn't totally wrong. Kyoya had underplayed how hectic that end-of-year work is, because Fuyumi has asked several times for her to watch Kyoya when she cannot, and be sure he does not burst under the pressure.

But these signs have popped up now, in the days leading up to Valentine's, and Kosuke wonders if maybe there's something else going on.

Something else related to he blond leading the way and the brunette that had cast such a thoughtful look on Kyoya's face when she gave him her Valentine's chocolates.

Kosuke had gotten hints before. Small things, just there enough to make her pause: the way he speaks so fondly of Haruhi and Tamaki both, his frustration at not being able to write them a good letter for their wedding. Still, those could just be friendship. She'd nearly strangled herself over the letter, too, and her feelings for Tamaki and Haruhi were strictly philia, no eros.

Even so, the past few days, there's been a countdown in her head: a conviction that on Valentine's Day she'd finally get an answer.

To a question she doesn't have a right to have.

Imperceptibly, Kosuke slows her steps to fall behind Kyoya and Tamaki, so that she can shake the notion out of her head. It's all suspicion, no evidence.

Even if it's true, she tells herself, it's not like it's any of your business, anyway.

It isn't.

Except that she cares about Kyoya, and if she's right about what the problem is, she'll still have no idea of how to help him.

Maybe that's not the problem, but Kosuke's heart and mind run on hypotheticals. What if, what if, what if.

They walk into the sunlight. Right. Kyoya isn't going through the romance crisis right now.

Unless—

Stop it. Shut up!

The exit of the building goes in a straight shot to the rose maze. Kosuke has never ventured into it, confident that she'd get lost. To see so many roses in the party, it's so odd that there's not a single blossom here. It's as if they closed up out of respect for Reiko, who has fled to the gazebo, nestled away in shadows and vines. She sits with her chin held up by entwined fingers, an elegant posture that does not in any way match her void eyes.

"Hey, Reiko." Tamaki waves, but he might as well be talking to a statue. "Is it okay if we sit down?"

"Mm."

Tamaki shuffles in first, then Kyoya, then Kosuke. As if this couldn't be more awkward. Sitting around the marble table, it's like they're having a business meeting.

Tamaki starts, turning to face Reiko as best as he can. A smile starts, then stops. Not the time. "Listen, Reiko, it really was just a game. There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Hm? Oh, I'm not embarrassed." Reiko's lips barely part as she speaks. It makes goosebumps break out across Kosuke's skin. "Rather, I am quite furious with myself."

"Don't be! So you got a few facts wrong. What does it matter when you and Hani love each other so much?"

"I didn't get a few facts wrong. I made a caricature of him."

They wait, but she doesn't elaborate, so Tamaki has to prod, "What do you mean?"

"I said that his favorite color was pink, and his favorite food was cake."

Tamaki and Kosuke look to one another and shrug, Kosuke remarking, "Accurate."

"I also said that his favorite pastime was eating cake. And that his favorite place in the world was in front of a piece of cake."

"Well…"

"And that if he ever had a pet, he would name it 'Cake.'"

Kosuke pulls on the collar of her turtleneck. "If it's any consolation…I don't know which of those you would have gotten wrong."

"His favorite pastime is practicing karate with his younger brother. His favorite place in the world is the zen garden at his family's estate. He's told me that if he ever had a pet, he would want to name it Momo." Reiko drops her hands, leans back, and closes her eyes, as if succumbing to death's sweet embrace. "I took away all his nuances and turned him into a joke."

"That happens, though, doesn't it?" Tamaki tries to coax her back to life with a kind smile. "Like when you study and study for a test but then you come across a question and your mind just—goes blank, you know?"

"That's true," says Kosuke. "O-Or it's like when you know what your favorite movie is, but then when someone asks why, you don't know what to say."

"Hani isn't a test. And he isn't a movie. He's my soulmate and my future husband. He's my other half. He's my light and my darkness. And I failed him. On the day in which we celebrate our entwined destinies."

Tamaki and Kosuke grimace at one another. Kyoya is just as lost as they are, but then, he had no advice to offer before they came.

Tamaki keeps trying, though, because he cannot rest until he turns a frown into a smile. He gives Reiko a pat on the shoulder, but it doesn't disturb her impression of Snow White. "It's only a sheet of paper, though. You can't measure how much the two of you love one another by points! What if there were two people who absolutely hated each other but got every question right? There's more to love than just knowing facts about the other person."

"It must be quite easy for you to say that, when you got every single question about Haruhi right."

"Erm…Well, yes, but—I would say that was some luck on my part! People are always changing. I said Haruhi's favorite color was red, which it is, but what if she'd changed her mind and just hadn't told me before—"

"I didn't answer incorrectly, I answered disrespectfully. It's as though I didn't even put an effort into trying to describe him."

Tamaki's lips purse. Anything he says is going to be compromised by his and Haruhi's victory, which Kosuke had known would happen. Still, she tries. "Maybe you didn't give very deep answers, but those weren't very deep questions, right? Think of it like this: if you were told to write a whole essay about Hani, you would've done it no problem, right? Instead you got a couple of surface-level questions with only a few lines to answer them. It's probably just…psychological, I think."

"I'm afraid neither of you are capable of understanding."

Tamaki folds his hands on the table, very serious. "Try to explain it to us."

Reiko's dark eyes open just so, staring off into the past. Misery is weighing her down like a stone shackled to her ankle, and it sucks the life out of her voice.

"When I realized that Mitsukuni had stolen my soul, I had the same mindset."

"Your soul?" Kosuke's head snakes back. "You mean your heart?"

"No, my soul. From the moment we met, he'd bewitched me and he hadn't realized it." Kosuke gives a look to Tamaki, who gives her an I'll explain later sort of wave. Reiko continues, "I knew that we were soulmates, but I took it as such a fact I hardly made an effort to try and know him better. I thought that he was oblivious to what he'd done to me, but finally he said that he didn't know me. If he did not know me, he could not love me. And I realized I loved him but I didn't know him. He was always so happy, and kind. I was amused by how much he loved sweets. But that was all I made of him. No depth, no complexities. A body without a heart. Only when I rectified that were we able to finally come to our inevitable union."

Her eyes shut again, hands folding in her lap.

"I don't think like that anymore, but I just showed Mitsukuni that I do. He'll think that I'm just loving the idea of him again."

Tamaki's fingers twitch, debating his next words, which come out quiet and careful, stepping on eggshells. "He only got one more point than you, though."

"So it seems I have not been as open as I promised to be with him. Mitsukuni told me that he wanted to know me, and I tried to show him everything, but it wasn't enough."

"Don't you want to talk to him about this?" Kosuke tries. "I know you're embarrassed, but this seems like something you guys should work out together. Tell him what you're telling us."

"I can't face him after this. His disappointment would be too much to bear. I can't even think of a spell that would fix this."

Ah. Right. The Black Magic Club. She keeps forgetting Ouran has a club for everything.

She knows that Tamaki is the best at this, or maybe Haruhi—Tamaki through kind words and comforts, Haruhi by getting straight to the point. So it's upsetting to see Tamaki pinching his chin, as lost as Kosuke is, but she understands. It's like Reiko is miles and miles away from them, and all they can do is stretch out their arms to reach her.

Kosuke is familiar—she's been at both sides of this before, but as the one reaching, it's always hard to know she can't. It seems Reiko and Hani's anniversary is ruined and there's naught to do about it.

Maybe we should just leave. Kosuke glances below the table. She could try to nudge Tamaki's foot with hers.

First she does it to Kyoya, who gives her a sideways glance, arms still crossed.

Oh, shoot. He thinks I want him to say something.

She leans closer to him to whisper, but just as she does, he sighs and says, "It sounds like the two of you aren't soulmates after all."

Kosuke and Tamaki both start. Geez. Kosuke knew he didn't like to beat around the bush, but he didn't have to go for her throat like that!

While she's gawking at Kyoya, she feels coldness sink straight through her sweater, and a new wave of goosebumps seizes her. She thinks it's a cool wind, but then, looking back to Reiko to apologize on Kyoya's behalf, Kosuke's heart almost stops.

Reiko's glare is colder than a blizzard. She looks frozen, a picture, but there's some kind of threat emitting from her—like at any moment she'll come to motion to lunge across the table at Kyoya's throat.

Any thoughts of scolding Kyoya die; instead Kosuke shifts to shield herself with him. Tamaki does the same, practically burrowing into Kyoya's other side, shaking like a leaf.

"Excuse me."

Despite being targeted by the most aptly-named death glare Kosuke has ever seen, Kyoya, too, stays as he is. With two the blondes cowering behind him, he continues, matter-of-fact. "If you say you haven't loved Hani correctly, then I suppose you haven't. It's your own words."

Reiko leans forward, rising from the dead. Kosuke's feet actually twitch to run away, pure primal instinct. Without even realizing it, she'd grabbed hold of Kyoya's elbow. Her fingers squeeze it in a vice as Reiko sits up straight, prim and proper and deadly as a belladonna.

"I said no such thing."

"You did."

"Hani and I are soulmates and there is nothing in this world or the next that can change that."

"Except a piece of paper, apparently."

Reiko's head tips, almost amused. "You speak so confidently of things you are incapable of comprehending."

"Help me comprehend, then. From what you've said, I'd gathered that you feel as though you 'caricaturing' Hani and letting him do the same to you was a failure on your part to respect that the two of you are soulmates. It seems more logical that you two might not be soulmates at all, then. Unless what you mean to say is that you can make as little effort as you want and it won't matter?"

Kosuke tries to pull on his arm with shaking hands. "Are you trying to get killed?"

"I see." Reiko nods, and the movement reminds Kosuke of the nightmares she had as a child, the ones where the porcelain doll on her shelf would come to life and crawl towards her. "You're attempting to use reverse psychology on me."

"I don't see how. I've only repeated what you've told us."

"Then perhaps you're not as intelligent as I had thought, Kyoya, because it seems you have completely misconstrued what you've heard. My anguish over this situation stems from my desire to do right to the bond between Mitsukuni and I. If I thought it did not matter, I would not be upset, would I?"

"P-Please forgive Kyoya!" Tamaki's lips try to smile, but terror has gripped every muscle in his face. "H-H-He didn't mean it like—like that, I'm sure!"

"Is it a matter of my intelligence?" Kyoya pinches his chin; not an easy task, considering his arms are being used as life preservers. "Indeed you're 'anguished,' yet you seem determined to accept the situation without doing anything to resolve it."

"I would suggest that you watch what you say, Kyoya. You're about to upset me."

"Upsetting is not my intention, but I truly am confused as to what is happening right now. How might you solve this situation without facing Hani? You've already said no spell can fix this."

"Ah, I see," Reiko tuts, simmering with cold fury. "You seem to think that being upset about the matter means I have given up. It seems you may be intelligent in one way but not the other. If this is the logic you have, then the next time that something unfortunate happens to you, I expect you not to show the slightest upset, lest you be 'giving up.'"

Reiko moves, and Kosuke and Tamaki jolt like one body, but all Reiko does is step out of the gazebo and dust off her skirt. She adjusts the rose brooch on her breast, not looking at Kyoya as she continues, "Though I believe my time of regret has run its course. I need to speak with Mitsukuni."

The February air feels scorching in her absence. Tamaki and Kosuke slowly peel off Kyoya, and he straightens his crumpled sleeves with a huff.

Kosuke is still rigid, but she gets enough air into her lungs to cry, "Well that was a great idea!"

"It worked, didn't it?"

"At what cost?" Tamaki is still shaking. His teeth are chattering. "She could punish you for this, Kyoya. You know how she and the other Black Magic Club members are…"

"More than that, Kyoya, you didn't have to shame her for being upset."

"I find that when someone is in such a state that they reject all other suggestions, the only solution is a rude awakening."

Kosuke can feel her back straightening, as it always does when she's angry, but she keeps the anger in her mouth—probably looking like a chipmunk as she does so. He's right, but she doesn't like that he's right. She'd be just as angry (but not half as scary) as Reiko.

She intends not to say anything. She doesn't want to fight in front of Tamaki, and they should be getting back to the party, anyway. As always, though, she wears her heart on her sleeve—Kyoya sighs and tells her, "I'll apologize later."

She relaxes and drops her hands that had (unconsciously) planted on her hips. "Okay. Good."

"Promise me you won't do anything like that again." Tamaki grabs Kyoya's shoulders and gives him a shake. If Kyoya had nearly gotten hit by a car, Tamaki probably wouldn't sound as rattled as he does now. "I won't be able to protect you!"

"An easy promise to make." Kyoya takes Tamaki's hands off of him, a motion that really doesn't last longer than a second; maybe not even.

Yet for that one instant, his hands are around Tamaki's wrists, and Kosuke is back to that stupid notion that this debacle had distracted her from.

She tries to shake it off as they head back to the party, but it's easier thought than done, with just her and Kyoya and Tamaki. Try not to think about what's standing right in front of you.

When they step back into the ballroom, she finds relief in the rumble of voices and footsteps.

Reiko is nowhere to be seen, but the others are—and Mori standing alone tells them enough. Haruhi lets out a tired breath as they approach; clearly their talk with Hani was just as exhausting. Hikaru and Kaoru look sleepy.

Haruhi nods her head to the right. Far across the room, almost pressed against the wall, Hani and Reiko are facing one another with serious faces ducked in whispers. Hani is speaking, moving his hands about in flustered explanation in a way Kosuke has never seen of him before.

"Mission accomplished," Haruhi half-jests. She's taken up a cup of punch, and takes lazy sips of it. "How'd it go with you guys?"

"Rather challenging. It took some…unconventional means—" Tamaki's eyes flick to Kyoya. "—but it seems we got through to her."

"An upset Hani is a tough nut to crack." Hikaru rubs at the back of his neck and fights back a yawn. "I turned her into a caricature, that was so mean of me…"

Tamaki blinks. Funnily, so does Reiko. "A caricature?"

"How he answered all his questions." Kaoru ticks off his fingers, eyes drooping. Kosuke muses that he looks like Hitsuji just before his naptime—and even more, he looks like Hani, also ticking off his fingers as he speaks. "He said her favorite place to be was 'somewhere dark,' that her favorite cake flavor was 'dark chocolate,' that her favorite time of the year was 'the darkest night.' Said he knew the actual answers, but his mind just blanked on him…"

Finally Hani stops, and steps back so he can bow as deeply as he can in apology to his fiancée—whose dark eyes flutter as she replies.

Kosuke tries to keep her laughter in, but she fails. A giggle bubbles out of her lips before she can cover them, and Haruhi asks, "What?"

"I shouldn't laugh, I'm sorry." Kosuke tries to wipe off her smile with her hand; it doesn't work. "That's exactly what Reiko was upset about."

Kyoya says, to illustrate, "She said if he ever had a pet, he'd name it 'Cake.'"

They all take a minute to shake their heads or stifle their laughter. Even Kyoya has the corners of his mouth twitching.

Reiko's muscles pull taut more and more as she speaks, trying to be as elegant as ever, but with hands jerking as though on puppet strings. She, too, takes a step back to bow her apology, and when she stands upright again Hani is laughing. So she begins to laugh as well, trying to hide the pink of her face behind her palm.

Haruhi swirls her punch in her cup and thinks aloud, "They really are soulmates."

Mori nods to her and the twins, then to the others. "Thank you all for helping."

"Kosuke and I were drowning." Tamaki claps a hand onto Kyoya's shoulder. "Thank Kyoya."

"Don't," Kyoya says at once. He takes a flute of champagne from a passing server. With chocolate, that's two dislikes he's making exceptions for today. "Reiko won't."

"Hey, don't hold your breath on that," Hikaru says, shuffling to the side.

Hani and Reiko come with their hands entwined, still pink from laughter. The group seems to take a collective sigh of relief.

"Hi, everyone," Hani greets, as sweet as sugar. "Reiko and I will be leaving now. We've fallen behind on everything we're supposed to do today!"

Everyone gives their goodbyes and a few more congratulations for their anniversary. Tamaki proposes a toast: those without drinks take one from a server and raise them to Hani and Reiko and (at Reiko's request) the bond between their souls.

"Before we go, Mitsukuni…" Reiko gives him her half-empty champagne flute. "I have one last thing I need to say to Kyoya."

Everyone's interest is piqued, especially the twins, who side-eye one another as Reiko goes to the Shadow King, of all people, and sincerely says to him, "Thank you for assisting me."

It's hard to tell whether it's his own conscience or Kosuke's stare that makes him reply, "I'm sorry for how I did it."

Reiko crooks her finger for him to give his ear. Even Kosuke, standing the closest, cannot make out the words that she whispers to him behind her palm.

When Reiko steps away again, Kyoya simply replies, "Duly noted."

"Bye, everyone!" Hani waves to them all as Reiko takes his hand again and leads him away, determined not to lose another second of celebration. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

Once they're gone, Kaoru rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck. "Well, now that that's over…What with that fun little game of Renge's, it looks like this party needs a pick-me-up. I'm going to go mingle."

"Same here." Hikaru blows kisses to his engaged friends, walking backwards into the throng. "Happy Valentine's Day, lovebirds."

Haruhi follows, saying to Tamaki, "I'm going to go catch up with everyone."

"Sounds good!" Tamaki waves goodbye to her, then straightens his tie and raises his chin. His violet eyes sparkle with his classic princely charm, and he gives a parting wink to Kyoya and Kosuke. "You two enjoy yourselves! I'm going to wish my fellow competitors a happy Valentine's!"

"Tamaki, I don't think that's a good—" But Tamaki is already gone. Kosuke lets her hand fall back to her side with a sigh.

Kyoya takes a sip of champagne. "He'll find out for himself."

"I'm sure. Hey, I should be getting back. I've left Yoshiko and Rika alone for way too long. Are you going to stick around?"

Kyoya looks around at his classmates, some laughing, some talking, and some still hurting from the game results. Kosuke can tell he doesn't intend to take a victory tour, but he almost shrugs. (Seeing him actually do it one day is on her bucket list.) "I think I'll do some catching-up for myself."

"Good. Um…" Her culinary duty to this party is pulling her away like gravity, but she tries to spit the words out—finger-gunning to Kyoya, so suave, as she walks backwards. "I want to talk to you later. It's no big deal, just whenever you can."

He looks her up and down, then nods. "Alright."

"Great. See you then."

She ducks back into the crowd and speed-walks back to the station. Traffic is finally starting to slow down as the day stretches on, but with how many students Ouran has, it's still a steady flow. At the very least, putting out plates of pink pasta (is Kyoya's study method starting to rewire her brain?) puts her at ease. She likes working with Yoshiko and Rika. She likes giving out food to the chocolate-drowned students, especially the ones that come back for more.

She likes just being at a party, because even if ones like these remind of what she can't have now, often they let her breathe. All she has to do is enjoy herself.

She still has those buzzing flies of thoughts in her head: the way Kyoya looks at Tamaki, the way he looks at Haruhi, that no one will ever look at her like that.

The smell of chocolate and the strings of violins help to drown out them out, but not for long.

Sometimes she has to wonder if situations are as complicated as they seem, or if it's just her.

It's not her business. It's not, it's not, it's not. She can tell herself that a million times and she still feels like it is.

Eventually the traffic slows to stragglers. Probably the whole party will be wrapping up soon. Students are so full of chocolate they have to drag their feet out the door. The champagne pyramid has disappeared, and even Renge looks sick of talking about Honami and her struggle to choose one of six boys to gift honmei-choco to on Valentine's Day.

Eventually the crowd is sparse enough for Kosuke to affirm that Kyoya is not in it. Which is fine, if not a bit disappointing. Rika, who has started wrapping up their station, bumps her with her hip and says, "He's outside."

Yoshiko and Rika have to physically push her away from the table, assuring her a million times that they can take care of cleanup. It's not a struggle to find Kyoya once she's outside. He's standing close to one of the countless cherub fountains on campus—as though he wants to sit on its edge but refuses to let himself.

His back is to her, but she can see he's on his phone. She wouldn't have been able to make anything out even if there wasn't the tinkling of angel-poured water.

Whoever is on the other line, and whatever they say, Kyoya merely stands still once it's over. Even after the screen of the phone is dark, Kyoya keeps staring at it—or maybe his black reflection.

He turns at Kosuke's footsteps, and looks to both stiffen and relax at her presence. What is she to make of that?

"Hi." She entwines her fingers behind her back and stretches her arms free of the knots and aches that have built up in them. It's the cost of hours of running around the table, but she likes it, proof of her efforts. "Everything okay?"

"Everything is fine." His hand is still holding onto the phone in his pocket. "Just Father confirming I'm not needed today."

Kosuke nods because that's what he wants her to do. Then she jests, "Maybe you could join Hani and Reiko on their anniversary date."

He clicks his tongue, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards. "Yes, I'm sure they'd both love that."

"What did Reiko say to you, anyway?"

"That she really did appreciate the help."

"But?"

"But that she will bring 'a lifetime of misery unlike any mortal soul has been afflicted with' if I ever say she and Hani aren't soulmates again."

"Sounds fair. Maybe just say there, there next time, yeah?" Kosuke stops at his side and looks up at the cherubs. She almost hates that she's getting used so used to the nonstop glamor of this life that she thinks these pieces of art as common as the tiles beneath her feet. Though the angel before them holds a vase instead of a bow, it makes her think of Cupid, which makes her think of that not-quite love-at-first-sight experience of Reiko's. "When are those two getting married, again?"

"Two and a half years to go."

"Long time coming."

"Consider them lucky. Some have to wait more than a decade."

Kosuke nods, as though she can empathize. However much she likes Kyoya, she's not exactly counting down the days to their wedding. It's odd, how the "happiest day of her life" is sounding more and more like just another mark on the calendar. Pick up dry-cleaning. Go to post office. Get married.

Then again, what part of this situation has ever been normal?

How funny is it, that the relationship that began with the "stealing of a soul" is the more mundane one? Hani and Reiko's relationship will be a straight line, while Kyoya and Kosuke's will be like a connect-the-dots page in a children's coloring book. Hani and Reiko met, they fell in love, now they're going to get married…

A question comes to mind, and with it a voice telling her to not bother, it's stupid. Hypocritical, too. She keeps insisting the game was just a game, but here she is now, thinking of the deducted points.

"Just out of pure curiosity," she says, stressing it, PURE curiosity, "What would you name your kid if you had one?"

She hopes that she says it right, emphasizing the hypothetical. It works on herself, until she remembers it isn't a hypothetical, it's a pipe dream, a what-could-have-been. It had never even occurred to her that Kyoya might have wanted to have children one day; it seemed unlike him, but that was just an assumption.

Thankfully Kyoya doesn't reel at the question. Visibly, anyway. He watches the water pouring out of the cherub's vase as he considers—maybe thinking that the little angelic baby had gotten the thought into her head.

"If my brothers and sisters didn't do so," he answers, "then I've thought if I had a son I would name him after one of my grandfathers. Hiro or Kazushi."

"I don't think you've ever talked about your grandparents. Were you close?"

"I remember my father's father fondly, but I wouldn't say we were close. I'd only met him a few times when he passed when I was twelve. Hiro passed when I was younger than that, so all I have are a child's memories." Kyoya looks sideways at her, sees her intrigued look. "All hazy except for a few specific details."

"When I was younger, Mom and I lived in this little apartment for a while. I was so young, I don't remember how big it was, which floor it was on, nothing like that, but I remember playing with the animal magnets on the fridge. Is that what you mean?"

"Exactly." Kyoya's body lightens as he strolls down Memory Lane. The hand still in his pocket reaches up and pulls his glasses off his face so that he can look at the black frames. "When he came to visit, I'd steal his glasses and wear them until he left. When it was decided that I needed glasses myself, I specifically asked that they look like his."

Kosuke tugs at her turtleneck to keep the aww from coming loose from her throat. Of course Kyoya had been a child once, but she can't help but feel all fluttery thinking about little five-year-old Kyoya with glasses too big for his face, wanting to be like Grandpa.

Kyoya puts his glasses back on so he can look to her in turn. "What about your father's grandparents? I'm afraid I'm not as informed as I should be."

It's a sort of guilt that only Kyoya could have; the person who's supposed to know anyone and everyone. Kosuke couldn't care less—or she shouldn't, anyway. The truth is, besides that one line Shigeo had so generously gifted her with in his office, she hadn't cared to investigate any further. It's selfish, and perhaps a bit rotten. Her other set of grandparents just don't seem real. Or maybe further acknowledging her life through Shigeo makes them too real.

"My grandmother's already passed. I'm not sure from what; he doesn't like to talk about it." She throws in a sympathetic voice, and he nods, of course, of course. "My grandfather is in Europe with his wife. I have the impression he and Dad aren't that close anymore."

Kyoya's pause is nerve-wracking. He's fact-checking her; not lies, but truth told untruthfully. She doesn't want to admit that she never tried to find out more. It's not fair, to forgive and not forget, but she can't help but recall how aghast Kyoya was at how little she knew about her own life when they met. Even as close as they are now, she doubts I don't know about my grandparents because I don't want to try will breeze over well with him.

"What about your stepfather?"

She gets the impression that it's a million questions in one. Yes, Marti has always been made the outlier since the beginning, hasn't he?

In the Amida house, the wife-stealer, the stranger father of the stranger children. In the Suzuki house, the son that was never met, the wedding never attended. In both, the living testimony of Emiko moving on with her life.

And for Kosuke, too many reminders. Too much guilt. Marti was the wish she'd made on a shooting star, and in return for years and years of being the best father a girl could wish on a star for, she won't even call him 'Dad' anymore.

Absolutely Kyoya has picked up on it all. Marti is practically a myth to him.

"They both passed before Marti met my mom. His mother was sick for a long time, and when she died…" She shakes her head. "He said his father died of a broken heart a while later."

She doesn't even want to talk about how Marti didn't want to talk about it. He'd always seemed so light to her; talk of his parents sunk him.

She wonders if she's like that right now.

"He never talked about his family much. It hurt too much to remember, I think. Actually, he did tell me once that he was named at his grandfather. I wanted to do the same thing, but I thought if I had a son and a father both named Marti it'd get confusing. So I made him a 'deal' and said I'd try to have a girl named 'Mari' instead."

He breathes a laugh at that. Kosuke does, too. It's hard to laugh at such sweet memories when they're wrapped like candies in the sour ones. So much death and grief in both of their families. As if no Ootori or Nakahara can live without loss.

Kosuke hadn't meant to start such a dour conversation, but strangely, she finds some bittersweet pleasure in it. How horrible, to relate to one another's family tragedies. Another macabre thing for them to bond over.

"Anyway. That's sweet. Maybe one of your siblings will do that."

Kyoya clicks his tongue. "Fuyumi already has so many names picked out. If she had a hundred children, she'd still have to hyphenate their names three times over just to fit them all in."

"Speaking of sweet…"

Her silence calls him to turn around. He must have seen upwards of a thousand boxes today, yet he looks at the one outstretched to him as if he'd never seen one in his life. She hadn't exactly denied Hikaru's comment about not getting Kyoya anything, so it's understandable. She also hadn't denied being unable to chocolatier, making his confusion when he lifts the lid doubly understandable.

"I had to enlist Tamaki's help. He let me puppeteer him around the kitchen." Kyoya takes one of the chocolates out, rolling the little dark morsel between curious fingers. "Those are actually chocolate-dipped pretzels. Keeps it from being too sweet. Maybe I could have just not given you chocolate at all, but tradition, I guess."

He doesn't eat one right away, and Kosuke won't blame him. After today, she may not be able to look at chocolate for months. Kyoya instead places it gingerly back into the box, folding the lid back into perfect place.

"Thank you."

She nods, and this should be the end of it. Give and thanks and drop it.

She just feels like she has to say more, though, because telling herself that this is no different than giving her gifts to the others just doesn't work.

This is different. Kyoya's different. Through grief and secrecy, they have something she hasn't had with anyone before, and it makes for a painful sort of comfort.

"So…" Kosuke claps her hands together. "I'm just going to go ahead and say what I need to say."

Kyoya waits.

"I wanted to say…Thank you. For all the help you've given me with my studies, and the kids, the dancing—pretty much everything." She laughs sheepishly. "And thank you for talking to me, and just letting me talk. I don't get to do that a lot, but when I talk to you, it's…comfortable. I always feel better afterwards."

Kosuke keeps trying to find stopping places, but there's more.

"And I'm sorry that we're like this. The secrets and the pressure and everything. I wish we hadn't met the way that we had—not just because we didn't get along at first, but because of everything that happened that made us meet in the first place. I just…I don't know. I like to think that if those things hadn't happened, we would still be friends. Um. I think that's it. That's what I wanted to say."

She has to look down at his feet as she finishes. The blush on her face feels like a sunburn, and it only blisters as the water in the fountain keeps on tinkling.

He opens the box again, but still doesn't eat one of the chocolates. As if he just wanted to make sure they were still there.

"Alright. Thank you for saying it."

There's more he wants to say; she can tell. He doesn't, and that's okay. This is still new for him.

"Here, take one."

She doesn't try to protest. She takes a chocolate out of the box, and after a pause, he does the same. It's delectable. Underneath the rich, smooth shell of chocolate is the crunchy saltiness of the pretzel. It's a delicious little treat that turns sour in Kosuke's mouth when she remembers she can't make this herself.

"I'm surprised Tamaki managed to keep the secret," Kyoya says after. There's a spot of chocolate melted onto his thumb, and because licking it off would be so undignified, he sneakily rubs it off with a fingernail.

"Eh, give him some credit. He was a good puppet. But I think if I told him he had to jump off a cliff for your Valentine's gift, he would still do it."

"You're not wrong."

A shake of the head, an affectionate sigh. Everyone does that with Tamaki; he's such a lovable handful.

Everyone does that, but she's stuck on Kyoya doing that.

It doesn't feel like speculation anymore. It feels like knowledge—fact.

You don't have any proof, but that's just denial, isn't it?

Kyoya tilts his head just so at her, and she could strangle herself. She'd been staring at him so openly that when he asks what's wrong, it ends on a period, not a question mark. Her thoughts are loud. Worse, far too much time passes for her to answer, "Nothing's wrong."

But what is she supposed to say?

It's not her business.

She can't put him on the spot like that.

He doesn't owe her any answers.

Those are the heroic reasosn. Deep down, there's another, selfish: guilt.

She doesn't want all those words she'd just said to be part of an apology. She's already caused him enough grief, she doesn't think she can handle knowing there's more pain she's caused him just by existing.

Here she was, throwing a months-long pity party for her happily-never-after, when Kyoya could have been grieving for the same and more.

It would ruin everything, wouldn't it? They can be bonded in their frustrations, their grief, but if this is true then Kosuke is just a parasite.

But then, ignoring it doesn't make it a lie, does it?

While this storm rages in her head, all Kyoya sees is her standing still and quiet. She will answer him, but it must be a horrible answer.

Kosuke takes a breath.

She has to let it go, just like she let her name go. Just as she did when she sat across from Shigeo—the same meeting in which he only gave mere allusions to her grandparents, when he told her she could never talk about Marti—she gives herself five seconds, and stretches them out. Five long more seconds of this.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Kosuke lifts her chin and looks Kyoya in the eye. "I want to ask you something."

His lips press. An eternity of loud silence and that's what it ends with. "Go ahead."

"It's okay if you're angry about it. I'm not trying to pry, I swear. I just want to know."

"Kosuke, what is it?"

It was nice while it lasted.

"Do you…have feelings for Tamaki or Haruhi?"

Chapter Summary:

Tamaki, Kyoya, and Kosuke follow Reiko to comfort her about losing Renge's Valentine game with Hani. Reiko explains that when she first fell for Hani, he told her he couldn't return her feelings because she didn't know him and vice-versa. She feels that by losing the game she's proven to Hani that she still only thinks of him at a surface level. Tamaki and Kosuke try to help, but it's Kyoya asking if she's given up that snaps her out of it. Hani and Reiko reconcile and leave to celebrate the rest of their anniversary. Later, Kosuke gives Kyoya her Valentine's chocolates (made with Tamaki's help). She tells him how much she appreciates everything he's done for her. However, Kosuke is unable to shake a thought that she's had for a long time, and finally works up the courage to act on it: she asks Kyoya if he has feelings for Tamaki or Haruhi.