bored411: Almost there!
argenteusvipera: Oh man, what would the ship name be? KyoKosu? KosuKyo? No idea. Thanks for the review! I swear on my LIFE there will be communication EVENTUALLY.
Five seconds between each floor. Ten seconds per stop. Second floor to thirteenth floor, fifty-five to one-sixty-five. Arrive between 11:21 and 11:24. Back in the office at twelve, eat lunch. If not, grab a bar from a vending machine, if no one is waiting to use it.
Take these papers to the fifth floor. Follow up on that e-mail. There's a family gala next week. Which family? When? Check the planner. Write in the planner. Meeting at two. Give Mr. Tanemichi condolences. His mother or his wife's? Doesn't matter. File that report. Sign off on this report. There's a loose tile on Floor 9, the west wing. File notice of printer malfunction on Floor 7. Lunch with Fuyumi. No, that was yesterday. Call Sugimoto. Troubleshoot the new user interface on the registration portal. Buy a new wrist rest. Investigate possible carpal tunnel. Fix the squeaky wheel on the chair. Back in the office, take an ibuprofen. Find a birthday gift for Mori. Ignore the headache. Check in with the interns. See who stole the gel pens off Iyo's desk again. Overview stock order for cafeteria. Finish Box 124 by the end of the day. Begin Box 125 by tomorrow. Thursday night, driving school. Almost done. Exam in two weeks. 6:30 to 7:30. Reply to Tamaki, I'm busy, sorry.Ask Kosuke how Airi is. Ask Kosuke how Kosuke is. Finalize spreadsheets. See who misplaced file M-23 on the eighth floor.
The elevator stops on the tenth floor. Twenty-five more seconds with no more stops. It's Yuuichi. Nod. Don't bother him. Itsumi's birthday was last week. Next week. Don't bother him.
"Kyoya."
He talked first. "Yes?"
Yuuichi squints at him. "Are you feeling well?"
Twelve more seconds. Yuuichi asked him a question. "What do you mean?"
Yuuichi snaps his fingers. Loud. Rude. Why? Too close. Looking at Kyoya too close. Squinting. Ten seconds. Nine. Ibuprofen. Troubleshoot the user portal. "You look like you just crawled out of the grave."
His appearance. His appearance? Not good enough. Losing it.
Okay. Breathe.
He breathes.
He is in an elevator. He is standing next to his brother Yuuichi, who is waiting on his answer. It is a normal day of work. He has much to do, with classes starting back next week. So much to do.
"Perhaps I didn't get as much sleep as I thought last night," Kyoya answers. Lies. He didn't sleep last night at all. The last time he was in bed was…thirty-six hours ago?
Yuuichi still squints at him. "Rest more. You can't walk around like that."
Because you look like a daisy. Kyoya shakes his head, and stops. His head spins. Ibuprofen. "I know. I'll be more mindful."
Yuuichi steps off the elevator. Wait, Kyoya needs to too, this is the thirteenth floor. He does. He just has to drop this folder of to office 1303 and these spreadsheets to 1317. Then, back on the elevator. It's still early, that's good. It means he has more time in the day.
His father turns the corner. Doing another one of his random walkthroughs of the hospital. Yoshio sees him and ignores him at first, but after they pass by each other, and after Kyoya has released his breath, his father simply says his name.
Of course, Kyoya answers, "Yes?"
"You're not needed at the moment. Leave until I call you back."
No, no, no. He has too much to do. Don't give the work to someone else, let Kyoya do it. If he gives the work to someone else, he'll still give Kyoya that disapproving look, because he wasn't good enough. Disobey and he's not enough obey and he's not enough.
"Yes, sir."
He still drops off the file and the spreadsheets. Back in the elevator. Might as well get lunch now, so it won't take up actual time later. Nothing to get from the office. Ran out of Kosuke's supply. He can't stop by a vending machine, or the cafeteria. His father wants him out of the building until he is called again. When Yoshio wants him to go home, he says so, so he'll need to stay close by.
He walks outside of the building, into the summer heat. There's a wind. It feels strange. He's inside so often. He could text Tamaki now. Or not. Wait until he's far enough to take out his phone. Call Kosuke. Check in on Kosuke. Ibuprofen. Sign off on those reports. No, update the planner. The planner's in the office. Mori's birthday is coming up soon.
He walks. A sit-down restaurant is too risky, don't know how long or short it'll be. Fast food? No, his nausea would get worse. There's a convenience store.
A convenience store. Kyoya doesn't eat lunch at convenience stores. But they'll have food, quick and convenient—obviously. He can eat in no time at all. They'll have ramen. Convenience store ramen. Doesn't sound good. But Kosuke made convenience store ramen and it was great. But it was Kosuke and she isn't here. He should check on Kosuke. She said she was going to be okay, but is she now? He should call. Text. Text her and Tamaki. Haruhi. Sugimoto. Ibuprofen. Begin Box 125 by tomorrow. Thursday is driving school. Begin Box 125 by tomorrow.
HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK
Kyoya jolts backwards. His shoes skid on the concrete. The car driver is more relieved than angry, but gives Kyoya a baffled up-and-down look as he continues on. Suicidal maniac. The little red hand on top of the pole is shining; has been for a minute now.
He really almost walked into oncoming traffic.
Kyoya gets a few looks, but people carry on. No one he recognizes. Too close, too close to the hospital. What if he was seen? Yoshio would kill him if he found out a car almost did.
Yuuichi is right. Sleep more.
When, exactly? If he gets home at eight tonight—
Lunch. Lunch is now. Kyoya, still shaken, moves his feet when the little green man lights up. The convenience store is small and quiet. The employees greet him kindly. It's quaint to see how many different things are on these shelves, the same thing in different colors, brands, shapes. So many bottles and boxes. Begin Box 125 by tomorrow. Text Tamaki.
There are whole shelves just for ramen, bowls and squares, some with labels like Premium, which seems oxymoronic. The ramen Kosuke had prepared was in a pink square. No pink squares here. Blue squares, red squares. Red squares. Red squares mean the monthly budget has been exceeded in that department. Report to office 704. Iyo is on the seventh floor. Who took her gel pens again? Call Sugimoto.
Pay for the ramen. Go to the station. Pick up a bowl from the stack. Open the pack. Run the hot water. Wait. Is he seriously eating convenience store ramen for lunch? Tamaki would love this. He and the others ate at the airport automat and loved it. Why hadn't Kyoya joined them again? Red squares.
The water stops. Use the chopsticks to stir up the ramen. Mori's birthday is coming up. Someone passes by. Don't be embarrassed. They didn't see him. Just a random person in a green shirt. Green like the little man on the traffic light. Green means the budget wasn't exceeded in that department. Thursday night, driving school.
Is it a random person? Kyoya looks again. Doesn't he know her? Brunette with a ponytail. Ask Kosuke how Airi is. Another woman, black hair in a bob cut. He knows them. They were handing out the ravioli at Renge's Valentine Party. So much red there. Red means the budget—
"Kyoya? Is that you?"
Rika Hirosue and Yoshiko Nakano. Kosuke's friends. They're here. And they're seeing him eating convenience store ramen for lunch.
Just my luck… "Good morning. It's nice to see you two."
"You, too." Yoshiko looks between his eyes and the steaming bowl in his hands, like the math is any harder than two plus two. "Grabbing lunch?"
"I needed something fast. I'll be going back to work shortly."
"Hey, no shame. Check it out!" Rika holds open her very large paper bag for him so he can see the whole box of rice crackers inside. "Kosuke showed me this stuff and I'm stockpiling!" She nods behind her. Two employees are lugging whole boxes of rice crackers outside, presumably to her limousine. Someone else pushes a pallet of them."I'm pigging out as soon as I get home."
Yoshiko is obviously doing her best not to wrinkle her nose at her, and at Kyoya's bowl. She leans forward to look inside, as though there'll be some creature swimming around in the broth. "Is it…actually good?"
"It's convenient."
"It doesn't smell half bad. Which kind did you get?" Kyoya points it out to her, and Rika grabs a few packs, tossing them into her bag. She misses one. Yoshiko jumps back from it, terrified. "Let's get those!"
Kyoya doesn't mean to pry, but his curiosity is piqued. It seems Rika and Yoshiko haven't even been in a convenience store in their lives, so why are they here now, grabbing so much food that Yoshiko can't even look at? "I'm sorry, I don't think I asked what you two are doing here."
"We're grabbing some things for the p—" Rika thwaps Yoshiko's leg with her bag. Yoshiko, who'd grabbed a box of Pocky off the shelf to inspect it, scrambles to catch it before it goes flying. "Gah! Just—For fun. We just wanted to try it."
"Yep! Now we want to know if anything else here is as deliciously addictive. Ooh, wait!" Rika whirls around, bags swinging. "I want to get one of those sodas with the marbles you go insane trying to get out!"
Kyoya's not buying it, but it's not his business anyway. Besides, he'd be a hypocrite to judge too much. Haruhi would tell him that. He should call Haruhi. And text Kosuke. Reply to Tamaki. Meeting at two. Call Sugimoto. Find out who stole Iyo's gel pens. There's a loose tile on Floor 7. 8?
"Hey, uh…" Yoshiko shifts on her feet. "Are you feeling okay? You look kind of pale."
Even on break, I can't catch a break…Kyoya clears his throat and grips his chopsticks a little tighter. "I'm fine, thank you. I just haven't eaten in a while."
"Well, we won't keep you anymore. You know, they keep some medicine here, too. Not a lot. And it's in weird colors. And flavors. And some of them are gummies. And shaped like dinosaurs. But." She shrugs. "If you need it."
"I think I'll be fine. Have a good day."
"You, too."
Yoshiko leaves to join Rika, and Kyoya sits down at one of the tables. The ramen is not bad. It's not exquisite, not half as good as when Kosuke made it, but it's something to fill his writhing stomach. Overview stock order for the cafeteria. Maybe he should buy some nausea medication while he's here. Dinosaurs. Maybe he could buy ibuprofen here, too, or maybe he should just wait until he's back at the office. When will he be back at the office? Meeting at two. Exam in two weeks.
The meeting happens at two. It's over at two-thirty. He follows up on that e-mail. The Sukarno family gala is at seven next Saturday. He gives Mr. Tanemichi his condolences. His wife's mother. He files and signs off on reports. He files the notice of the printer malfunction. He gets a wrist rest from the supply closet but it leaves black dust on the inside of his arm. He finishes Box 124. The gel pens are still missing. He takes an ibuprofen. He takes an ibuprofen. He takes an ibuprofen.
He can't troubleshoot the new interface; system's down today. Tomorrow, then. Begin on Box 125 instead. He takes an ibuprofen. He checks in with the interns. One is not doing well. He'll have to set up an interview to see if her future will continue with Ootori Medical. The person in charge of the cafeteria stock is out until next Tuesday. Thursday night, driving school. Almost done. Call Sugimoto. Exam in two weeks. 6:30 to 7:30. He'll reply to Tamaki, I'm busy, sorry, tomorrow.He'll talk to Kosuke tomorrow. He wants to talk to her now. He'll talk to Kosuke tomorrow. The chairs in the waiting room on the third floor will be replaced tomorrow. The detergent in the laundry room is running too low; they need more, stat, to wash the bedsheets. No one can find the loose tile. The misspellings in the online registration system will have to be fixed manually. Madame Yasuzumi wants a meeting with Yoshio at four on the 27th but he'll be in a meeting with Mr. Shiga then. Check if three on the 2nd will be better. Boxes 126, 127, and 128 need to be completed by the end of the week. Ask Iyo if she would like to escalate her complaint of the stolen gel pens. Chujiro had a gel pen on his desk today. Investigate or ignore? A green gel pen. Green like the little man on the traffic light. Ten seconds between each floor. Drop of the files to office 1273. There's a retirement party for a doctor tomorrow. Find out how many years he worked in this hospital. Stop by to give thanks. Eat some cake. Drink water. Exam in two weeks.
"Go home, Kyoya. I'll summon you back when you're needed."
Can't go home. Too much to do. Can't go home. Too much to do.
He goes home. Too much to do.
Lavender.
"There you go!" Fuyumi takes in a deep breath and motions the flow through her lungs. She doesn't notice that she'd burned Kyoya, shoving the candle so quickly into his hands. "Isn't that nice?"
The candle is purple. Wax is dribbling down the side. "Is it my birthday, or…?"
"It's time for you to relax." Fuyumi motions him to follow her. She's in leggings and a sweatshirt, patterned with diamonds. Outside, on the backyard lawn, she's spread out two yoga mats on the grass. The sky is orange and purple. Gel pen colors. Who steals that many gel pens? Her phone is playing Relaxing Sounds Collection. Whale calls are not relaxing. "Come now, Kyoya. Meditate with me."
"I'd rather sleep."
"Meditation is the key to a peaceful mind, you know." Fuyumi stretches her legs out into a perfect split, which is genuinely impressive. But Kyoya would rather look at the darkness of his eyelids right now. "Meditating is like…being washed. And when I'm done, I always feel like a sweater fresh out of the dryer."
Kyoya sets the candle down on the ground. "Enjoy your spin cycle. I'm going to sleep."
"Kyoya, I really think you need to try this. You'll feel recharged."
"Only an REM cycle can do that. Goodnight."
Fuyumi stands as he turns to go, hands on her hips. "Kyoya! It won't kill you to just try this for a minute. By those bags under your eyes, you could stand to just close your eyes and breathe for a minute."
"Closing my eyes and breathing is what sleeping is. I said goodnight."
"You know, I came all the way over here so I could help you—"
"Did I ask you to do that?" Fuyumi snaps her lips shut. Her teeth click. "Did I ask? Don't try to guilt me like you always do, Fuyumi, you're only here to demand that I drop everything to spend time with you. I know that always goes in one ear and out the other, but not tonight. I need to be at my peak performance, and to do that I need to rest. Not babysit you."
He walks inside. He goes upstairs to his bedroom. Puts the suitcase down. Text Tamaki now? Talk to Kosuke. Call Sugimoto. Rework tomorrow's section in the planner. Call Haruhi. Mori's birthday is soon.
He goes back downstairs. He goes outside. Fuyumi has rolled up the yoga mats.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you like that."
"No, you're right." Fuyumi's lips are in a thin line as she fits the straps back onto the rolls. She's snuffed the candle out. "I was being so selfish I wasn't making any sense. Of course you need to rest."
"I know you like to spend time together, Fuyumi, but—"
"It's not your fault that I can't take no for an answer." Fuyumi picks up her phone and stops the audio. The sound of rainfall cuts off. "I do miss you. But I get it. This is how it works now and I need to get over it already."
If there were just more hours in the day…Get all the work done, and then he can text and call and talk, sit down over lunch. School starts again next week. Even fewer hours.
"Hey." Fuyumi squeezes his shoulder. "Go to bed, alright? You've got us all worried. You should've seen Kosuke yesterday."
"Kosuke came here yesterday?"
"No, we met up for lunch. She's worried sick for you. Said she felt horrible, going to that party when you're 'wasting away.' Don't know why I put that in quotation marks, you really are—"
"What party?"
"Maybe she didn't call it a party. The get together? Whatever she's doing over at her friend Rika's yacht. Hey, don't feel bad because you couldn't make it. Kosuke said she understood. She just wants to know you're eating food and getting more than a wink of sleep."
Kyoya has had a lot of information to juggle this week, but this is definitely the first time he's hearing about a party. On a yacht. One that he was apparently supposed to be invited to.
Why would Kosuke not tell him? Wait—earlier today, when Yoshiko and Rika were acting so strangely. Were they covering up for her? Why would they buy convenience store food for a—That doesn't matter.
Is it because they haven't talked in so long?
She wasn't okay. She wasn't okay when he left her at her grandparents' house, he knew that, but he left anyway and hasn't sent her more than a single text message a day ever since, if even that. She thinks he wouldn't bother. He would, he would, but Boxes 126, 127, and 128 have to be finished by the end of the week. The misspellings in the online registration system have to be fixed manually. He might have carpal tunnel and he can't use his wrist rest without looking like a coal miner. Who steals that many gel pens?!
"Go to bed." Fuyumi pulls him into a side-hug, smooshing the soft yoga mats between them. "I'll see you when I see you."
He apologizes one more time before she goes. She promises it's okay. She leaves but Kyoya doesn't go to his bedroom.
He's not allowed to work at all once Yoshio tells him to leave, but he has to be ready to go whenever. If he goes to Rika's party, and he's summoned back anyway, he can just say he was dropping by. How far is the Hisoue yacht from the office, though? Too far, and his father will think him irresponsible, being so far away knowing full and well he might be needed. If he doesn't go, though, he'll just be confirming what Kosuke thinks about him. Kyoya doesn't care. Can't be bothered. Proud jerk. Proud jerk. Embarrassment to the family. Ootori Medical is your first and foremost priority from now on. I like to think that if those things hadn't happened, we would still be friends. I have many things to be concerned with at the moment, Kyoya, telling you how to function shouldn't be one of them. Thank you for coming. I'm glad you did.
He goes.
It's a gamble. He's been on the Hisoue yacht before. 50-Year anniversary. Retirement party. Kyoya has to hope it's at the same place in the bay. It is. It is very white and has many angles. It looks like origami. Made of white paper. Paper like spreadsheets. Review the spreadsheets. File those reports. Ignore the headache. Red squares.
He walks down the pier to the ramp that goes up to the deck. There's a velvet rope. No one there. He goes under. Rude? Whatever. Slow down. Red hand. Ten seconds between each floor.
There's music and conversation somewhere. Long violin notes. A drumbeat. No, footsteps. Coming around the corner. Mori. Mori? Why is Mori here and not Kyoya? No, Kyoya is here. Why was Mori here first? Does Kosuke trust Mori more than him? Talk to Kosuke.
Mori stops beside Kyoya, looking him up and down. "I didn't think you would be here."
"I was invited. Apparently."
"You don't look well."
Blunt as ever. "I feel well. Where is everyone?"
Mori leads him, not without a look. Judging. Judge. Gavel slamming down. Pow. His father's palm striking his glasses off his face. Embarrassment. He shouldn't be here. He needs to be here. Madame Yasuzumi wants a meeting with Yoshio at four on the 27th but he'll be in a meeting with Mr. Shiga then.
They finally find people. Classmates. Friends. Laughing and talking. The wall of blue glass. The golden cherub statues. I don't hate you and I don't want to.
The front deck has the most people. There are soft yellow lights to light up the darkening sky. People he recognizes especially. Benjiro, Rika, Yoshiko, Hikaru, Kaoru, Reiko, Hani, Tamaki, Renge, more and more and more. Not one told him about this. Why bother? He can go to a stranger's retirement party but not this. First and foremost priority. Embarrassment.
Some of them are playing charades. Party games. I once got frostbite. Kyoya wins and Kosuke leaves to "stretch her legs."
Kaoru is the one performing. He's standing pin-straight. One hand holds his elbow while the other pinches his chin. He's glowering at something.
"A teacher?" guesses Benjiro. He's holding his hand up like a child in class. "One of your teachers?"
Kaoru shakes his head. He pretends to flip open a book and write something down.
Hani bounces on his feet. "A judge!"
No again. He pushes up invisible glasses and starts typing on an invisible keyboard.
Yoshiko looks past him and almost drops her drink. "Kyoya!"
"Finally!" Kaoru throws his hands into the air. "Took you guys long enough!"
"No, Kyoya."
"Yes, Kyoya. What—" Yoshiko points, and Hikaru and Reiko and Benjiro, and Kaoru turns around to jump like a frightened cat. Tako spilling Sugimoto's ramen all over the table. Convenience store ramen. "KYOYA. I didn't—see you there! Obviously. Because you're not supposed to—Do you want some punch?"
He passes some to Kyoya so quickly it almost sloshes all over his shirt. Twice, someone just shoving things into his hands. Lavender candle, punch. File, take this to office 814. "Good evening, everyone. I hope I'm not intruding."
The nos and no ways and of course nots sound genuine but strangled. Everyone is looking left and right, and maybe Kyoya's too stupid to figure out why Rika and Yoshiko were acting strangely, but he knows they're looking for Kosuke. Ignore the headache.
"We just didn't think you were going to be here, is all." Rika chuckles nervously. Like she and Kyoya didn't literally run into each other that morning. The way he almost ran into that car. Red hand. "Not that that's bad or anything!"
"My apologies for arriving late. It was my fault for not being more diligent." More looks. So someone did tell him?
"Well, hey, now that you're here…" Benjiro sweeps an arm, unsure, to the long tables set up at the back of the deck. "You can help yourself to the buffet! Put it together ourselves."
Did Rika and Yoshiko just steal one of the shelves from the convenience store? It looks like it. Wrappers, squares, bowls, bright packaging and labels with exclamation points. There are bowls of ramen next to a hot water dispenser, buckets of ice filled with cold coffee and yogurt drinks and sodas in neon colors. Red like exceeded, green like not exceeded, orange like orange juice, yellow like peonies, purple like the octopus hat, pink like a scarf.
"It's pretty ridiculous, isn't it?" Hikaru scoffs, but he's drinking a canned coffee. "It's like commoners—com—co—come on, how many things can you wrap in plastic, am I right?"
"The melon bread isn't that bad." Benjiro grabs a little green packet off the table and brings it back, peeling it open. "Here, you can try—"
"Uh-uh, uh-uh!" Yoshiko bats him away, squeezing her nose with her fingers, honking at him. She's as green as the packet. "Eat over there."
"You're so dramatic. It doesn't smell that bad."
"It smells like artificial flavors and chemicals and lies!"
"Here, Kyoya, check it out!" Hikaru and Kaoru both grab little boxes and tear them open, showing Kyoya the candies inside: pieces of gummy sushi no larger than his fingertip. The twin brothers are delighted. "Look how stupid it is! We love it!"
"Me, too!" Hani comes back with several packets, rifling through them. "They have pizza gummies, and burger gummies, ice cream gummies…" A tear comes to his eye. "I've discovered a whole new world…"
"I must admit, if I were to cater an event, I wouldn't have gone with…" Kyoya inspects the foil. "'Sushi Gum-Gums," though that may just be my palate."
"It was Kosuke's idea," explains Yoshiko, now turned fully away from Benjiro and his unholy melon bread. "Well, she gave us the idea. We were talking about our 'guilty foods,' and she said hers were rice crackers, and she brought us some to try. And I wished she hadn't…"
"You're only saying that because your guilty food is caviar," protests Rika.
"If I may, where is Kosuke?"
"Over there with Tamaki," say the twins, tilting their heads in that direction.
He goes to find her. Is that Kosuke? Yes, that's Kosuke. No? Yes. Kosuke in a sundress. White with sunflowers. Long sleeves. Off the shoulders. Short. Hair pulled up into a bun, pieces framing her face. Beautiful.
First headache, then nausea, now shortness of breath. Take an ibuprofen. Carpal tunnel? Ignore it all. Who's she with? Tamaki. They're dancing. He's showing her how to dance. Why? Why's Tamaki dancing with Kyoya's fiancée? He already has his own fiancée. And Kyoya already showed her how to dance.
He approaches, noticing more the closer he comes. She's wearing a little silver chain of a necklace, with a pearl in the hollow of her throat. She's wearing kitten heels, as usual. When the light falls on her face, her lips shine pink.
Lip gloss.
Hm.
She sees him first. She's surprised. And not happy surprised. Unhappy surprised. Standing in the doorway to her engagement party. Pink punch. Pink lips. "K-Kyoya! Uh—you—wh—What are you doing here?"
"You made it!" At least Tamaki is happy surprised. Now he should take his hand off Kosuke's back. And her hand. "But, uh…" Tamaki's beam starts to dim. Wilting like a flower. Sunflowers. Saffron flowers. "Kyoya, you don't…look so good. Do you need to sit down?"
"I'm perfectly fine, aside from being poorly informed. I'm afraid I don't even know what we're celebrating tonight."
Kosuke purses her lips. Pink. Soft. "It's just a back-to-school party."
"I see." Kyoya looks down at their feet. Has Kosuke crushed Tamaki's toes yet? His legs are miles long, that might throw her off. Not that her legs are particularly short, in fact they seem longer tonight, maybe because of the kitten heels. And the dress, falling just above the knee, showing just a peek of her thighs—"Refining your dancing skills?"
"I'm still not that great in heels. Hey, listen, do you—?"
"Want to take my place?" Tamaki interrupts, (finally) pulling back from her. "Don't let me get in the way, I'm sure it's been a while for you two!"
He leaves, and they're alone. Alone enough. Maybe Kyoya should say something. Ask why she didn't tell him about this. Apologize for not being around. Talk to her. Ask about her.
"You look beautiful."
Alright, that works.
Kosuke's eyelashes flutter at him. He should compliment her more, if it surprises her when he does. Maybe she's blushing. Or she already had blush on. More pink. "Thank you."
Her eyes squint at him. Maybe she wants to compliment him but can't lie to herself like that. Does Kyoya just look like a troglodyte right now? Everywhere he goes, today. Don't be angry. Ignore the headache. The person in charge of the cafeteria stock is out until next Tuesday.
They're getting glances. Kyoya holds his hand out, palm-up. I'm here. Look, I'm here. "Would you like to keep refining?"
Kosuke takes his hand, but only to pull him away, back to the tables. She looks over all the plastic with a huff. "If I'd known I was going to have to play nurse, I would've asked for a different menu. I don't think chocolate biscuits are going to do you any good."
She picks up a wrapped strawberry sandwich, turning it over in her hands. The cream is smeared on the wrapping. Strawberry cake. Birthday. Retirement. How long has the doctor worked in the hospital?
"If we're talking about nutritional value, I don't think anything here will do me any good. Though I'd like to know what 'good' you're trying to do."
"I'm trying to get you some kind of energy before you pass out. Hold on." She picks up a bowl of ramen, beef-flavored with a ball of flame wearing sunglasses. "This might be the best we have…"
"No." Kyoya takes it from her and puts it back. "I'm not eating that."
"I know it's not five-star cuisine, Kyoya, but you need to eat something—"
"Not that. I've already had my fill today." He picks up another sandwich. Egg? Scrambled eggs. Hardboiled eggs. Eggs sunny-side up and plated with bacon strips into a smile. Orange juice. "Would this work, Doctor?"
She nods, not looking very pleased. She goes to one of the silver ice buckets and grabs a bottle of pinkish-yellow liquid. "Here. I know you hate sweet stuff, but drink this. It's juice."
There are pictures of peaches along the label. Kyoya twists the cap off, keeping his eyes on her. She made a ninety-four on her test after studying with him. Rhymes and riddles. She'd hugged him. Peaches. She fell asleep against his shoulder driving home from their skating date with Tamaki and Haruhi. Peaches.
He takes a sip of juice—gah, that is too sweet—and says, "Apologies I wasn't here sooner. It seems I may have lost my invitation in the mail."
Don't snipe at her. You're not supposed to be angry. Don't be an embarrassment. Red squares. Keep it together. Kosuke doesn't look sheepish. Gel pens. She turns away from him, looking back at the ice bucket. "Yeah, there's a reason."
"What was that?"
"Who told you, anyway?" Kosuke picks up a can from the ice, dripping wet. It's neon pink and says Candy Juice.
"Fuyumi."
"Fuyumi? How did—Oh. Tamaki. Right." After some deliberation, she cracks the top off. It fizzes madly. Kyoya's nose tickles looking at the bubbles. She'd had a pet fish named Bubbles, didn't she? But she'd always wanted a cat. Now she has Tako. Short for Takoyaki. They'd almost eaten takoyaki on their first date, but they'd eaten okonomiyaki instead because—"Should've figured."
"Fuyumi also said that you 'said you understood' that I wasn't able to come. As if I had declined the invitation that I never received."
Kosuke takes a careful sip. "Don't be upset. I just didn't—"
She gags, hand flying to her mouth, the other slamming the Candy Juice back onto the table. One of the attendees comes running, and Kosuke is heaving so heavily she can only bat a hand at him to take the damned thing away. Kyoya shoves the peach juice towards her, and she takes it greedily, chugging it halfway in three gulps.
"Oh my god, do I still have teeth?" She hiccups and takes another drink. Green is mixing with the pink. "How did I ever like that stuff? It's just syrup and regret…"
The bottle is near-empty, so she sheepishly gives Kyoya another one. She picks up another Candy Juice, bright blue and cotton-candy flavored, pinching it between her fingers like it's filthy.
"I used to drink this stuff all the time. How am I still alive?" Her face turns thoughtful. Remembering. Come back.
"Palates can change over time, I suppose."
"Hm? Oh, I know. It's just funny. My friend Okina would always get me one of these if I was having a bad day."
Okina. Does he recognize the name? 'Okina always made better snowmen than me.' Kosuke likes the snow. Pink pom-pom scarves and ice-skating. Kyoya doesn't. Not after the giant snowball fight. Broken glasses and a wet coat. Hours going by. Embarrassing. First and foremost priority. Come in to work at seven. Leave at eight. Come back at five. Leave at four. Meeting at two. Meeting at seven. Meeting at eleven. Ten seconds between each floor—
Fingers snap in front of his face. Rude.
"You're really out of it. Hold on." Kosuke tries to twist the bottle of juice open. "You're not going anywhere until you finish this. Wait." She looks at the label. It goes back in the ice. "Too much sugar. Hold on…"
She keeps his back turned to him as she goes through the drinks, pushing through ice cubes. There is one small piece of hair loose, falling down the nape of her neck. She looks so delicate. Kyoya follows the curve of her back with his eyes, from her neck with its thin silver chain down to the white fabric of her dress. Porcelain. He could touch, with just the very tips of his fingers, and trace the curve of her spine until he came to the sunflowers—
Pieces of ice go spilling across the table. Suddenly he can see a pearl, and lip gloss, and blush and blush and blush.
Kyoya wants to reach out to her, ask her what's wrong, but his hand is already extended. Why…
Oh.
Oh, god, no.
He did that.
He really did touch her, he was running his fingertips down her neck—
"I am very, very sorry, please forgive me." Kyoya takes a step back. Probably that's what she wants right now. He touched her—"I don't know what came over me."
She doesn't look angry, at least. Or scared. Her hand's come up over her mouth, and she's staring down at the boards beneath their feet. She's still so delicate. Porcelain.
"It's okay," she says at last, just a breath between her lips. She pulls her hand away from her mouth, and her other hand holds her wrist, like she has to keep herself from hiding.
Is that another tic? She walks straight when she's angry. She spins her toe on the floor if she's nervous. Does she cover her mouth when she's flustered?
That's…
Adorable?
No, he's not allowed to think that right now. He's made her uncomfortable. And he came here to make her feel better.
Half-desperate, he holds his hand out to her a second time. "Are you sure you don't want to dance?"
She comes to him but ignores his hand. Hers squeeze his shoulders, keeping him still while she looks very intensely into his eyes, like she's trying to melt the lens of his glasses. She'd looked at him like that on the way home from their skating date, but foggier. I always thought you had pretty eyes. He should've said the same. And pretty lips.
"Listen to me," she says very sternly with another squeeze. "What's wrong? What's going on?"
Maybe eating nothing but convenience store ramen and sugary fruit juice all day has jumbled his brain, because if Kyoya doesn't keep his mouth shut, he thinks he's going to say so much more than he could ever take back.
"Hey, everyone!"
Kyoya flinches. How can Tamaki possibly yell that loudly? And now he's clapping his hands, cannon fire.
"It's time for the show! Come to the other side if you don't want to miss it!"
Everyone starts walking at once. The pitter-patter of footsteps on the floor has Kyoya's temples throbbing. Loud. So loud.
Kosuke whispers, but even then, it's spearing into his eardrums. "Are you okay? What's wrong? Talk to me."
"Nothing is wrong. Let's see what this show is."
He takes her hand without thinking, but she doesn't pull back. They fall into the flow. Fish in the ocean. Are sea turtles fish? Scarlet turtlenecks. Scarlet rollercoaster. Dragon plushie. Sea dragons. Emiko leans against the railing as the wind tries to take her sunhat. Kosuke holds his hand.
As everyone falls into place on the other side of the deck, there's a great deal of shuffling and excuse me as they all make room. Kyoya pulls Kosuke a little closer, not wanting her to get shoved. He wants her out of view from the man on the other side of the street, leaning against the almanac. Away from the man with the bunny plushie. Blonde cutie. Kosuke squeezes his fingers.
With one last warning, the lights on the yacht go dark. Excited whispers rise up from them all. Too loud. Too loud. Shut up.
Kyoya's vision is two planes of blue, the dark of the ocean and the dark of the sky, cut by a jagged red-and-yellow line of the city on the other side of the bay. From the line shoots a comet, and suddenly a burning red flower is blooming across the sky. Then a purple one, then a yellow one, then a flurry of white crackles. Everyone is oohing and their faces are changing colors with the lights. Kosuke is green and then yellow and then pink.
Suddenly, Kyoya's eardrums break like a dam. Everything is inside of his head. The booms of the fireworks, the chatter of his classmates, everyone and everything, he can feel it right behind his eyes.
All the colors bleed together. Spilling paint. He shuts his eyes but it doesn't work.
Too loud, too bright.
The music at the robot-animal-whatever café. Sunlight in the lounge room.
Tenya's lips smack a fake kiss into his cheek as Katherine.
The man inside the shop blows the glass into a sun.
Kosuke blows a raspberry, I'd never mention Kyoya to you, Kohta.
It hurts. It all hurts, running from his face down through his spine. His father's hand cracks across his face.
Kyoya, someone is saying. Kyoya.
He's going to count to three and he'll get it together. He'll count to three and all this noise the brightness and pain will stop.
One.
Two.
Three.
Kyoya opens his eyes.
He's looking up at a ceiling.
Not the sky.
Now, when did this happen?
He tries to sit up, but it's like swimming against a current. He's heavy as a stone. He's on a bed—no, his bed. He can feel the satin against his skin. His glasses are on the nightstand to his right, and he reaches his arm, a hunk of cinderblock, to put them on. Now he can see the clock on the wall. 10:28. And that definitely isn't PM.
Kyoya tries to remember, but it's all static. He was on the deck of the yacht, watching the fireworks, and now he's here. He doesn't even have a shadow of a memory.
What happened to me?
The door opens, but no one is there. They'd run off in the blink of an eye. Kyoya knows who it is when he hears the rapid-fire clicking of stiletto heels.
His mother beckons Yuuichi after her, like he'll get lost between the door and the bed. She falls to her youngest son's bedside with a swish of chiffon. She's in a powder-blue evening gown, so either she was at some black tie event and came in a flash, or she'd dressed up for this occasion. Sadly, Kyoya doesn't know what's more likely.
"Oh, my sweet boy…" Jin runs her fingers over his forehead, pulling his mussed hair away from his eyes. Her rings are icy on his skin. "You're going to be just fine, don't worry. Just fine."
Kyoya looks to Yuuichi. "What happened?"
Yuuichi frowns even deeper. He's amnesiac. Great. "You were out with your friends and dropped like you were diving for the floor. You're lucky Kosuke was there—you might have cracked your skull open otherwise."
"Why?"
"Well, according to the house staff, you're going days at a time without sleep, your diet consists of caffeine and the very occasional granola bar, and you've been tossing painkillers back like candy. So it is my opinion as both a doctor and a person with common sense that you're over exhausted."
Damn it.
He couldn't hack it after all.
Kyoya keeps his hands under the blanket so they can't see him gripping the sheets with white knuckles. He gave 100% and it wasn't good enough. He should've given 110%.
He should've—carried bars around in his pocket so he wouldn't have to stop at all. He should've slept whenever he came home, not waited. He could've gotten a hotel room close to the office, not too far away when he got called in…
"I told you, you needed to rest. We put this stuff on the posters in the waiting room. Lack of sleep can weaken your immune system, elevate your blood pressure, cause a myriad of heart problems—"
"Yuuichi, Yuuichi, baby. I know you're worried, but keep your voice down."
Yuuichi purses his lips shut. He looks like he wants to give his prescription, but what's the point? He knows the cause of Kyoya's symptoms.
Kyoya tries to remember again, just so he can say he can. White lights… "Did I go to the hospital?"
"For a few hours. By the way, the hospital should redirect another delivery to you soon."
Yuuichi nods to the side of the room, which has been overcome with balloons, flowers, and teddy bears of every size. One teddy on his desk chair like it's doing paperwork. Some balloons have broken free and bounce against the ceiling. Get well soon! Feel better! One says, It's a boy! Someone must've been in a hurry. Or that one is from the twins. Or maybe they sent the funeral wreath. And his school picture with the placard reading In memoriam…
Which means everyone knows—Or saw. Kyoya raises a lead hand to his head, gripping his hair, wanting to pull it right out of his scalp.
They saw him collapse. They might've seen him being taken into an ambulance. He's going to be the hot topic. Did you hear what happened to Kyoya Ootori? He came to the party last night and fainted! He had to go to the hospital and everything!
Was his father at the hospital when he came? If he saw Kyoya lying on a sterile bed, motionless as he was prodded and poked…maybe he felt vindicated.
"Do you need something? Anything at all?" Jin touched his forehead again, pouting. "Poor thing…I can get you some breakfast, or some tea, or—Oh! I bet you would like to see Kosuke now, wouldn't you? That would make you feel better!"
Kosuke. Right, Kosuke was there, that's why he came in the first place. She was there and he—
Kyoya's fingernails stab into his forehead.
"No, Mother—"
"You just wait there!" Jin's gone in another chiffon flurry. And Yuuichi is gone with her, speaking into his phone, sighing as he shuts the door behind them.
Kyoya can't remember what happened after he collapsed, but he knows what happened before. He arrived to a party he very clearly wasn't wanted at, stumbling around and blubbering like a drunken idiot, thoughts as straight as a rollercoaster track, until he'd found Kosuke and—Gah.
If she never wants to speak to him again, he wouldn't blame her.
"Kyoya?"
Hold that thought.
He has an excuse, but how Yuuichi and Jin didn't even notice, he can't say. On the other side of the room, sprawled out across the gray sofa, Kosuke rubs the sleep out of her eyes. She kicks back a blanket and stumbles over to him. Her hair's down, the lip gloss is gone, and she's kicked her heels off somewhere. The sundress remains, but now the sunflowers are crumpled up from her tossing and turning.
"Hey," she greets him, voice delicate with sleep and worry, kneeling down beside him. "How are you feeling?"
She doesn't look angry. Or disgusted. Kyoya keeps his gaze on her bleary eyes. He refuses to look down at her neck. At least she's facing him. If she turns, he'll see the skin he'd ran his fingers down. God, please tell me that it was just the exhaustion and I'm not actually some pervert…
"I'm—fine. I…" He tries to sit up again. An ache shoots down his spine, all the way to his heels. "I can't sit up, but I'm listening. Yuuichi said you—caught me?"
She nods. "Barely. You just dropped, I…"
"Thank you. I'm sorry for scaring you like that."
"Don't—" She sighs and pushes back the unbraided bangs falling into her eyes. "Don't apologize. Just—Promise me that you're going to do whatever Yuuichi says you need to. Sleep more. Drink more. I'll storm into your office with a packed lunch every day, don't think I won't!"
So she knows the diagnosis. Although, common sense. "I'll try, believe me."
"I don't want you to try, I want you to do. You should've…Akito said you were sent home anyway, you should have been in bed. Yoshiko, she said—she didn't realize it was you until you came into the store, you almost walked in front of a car…"
She, too, is gripping the blanket. Maybe she wants to slap some sense into him. Maybe he deserves it…
"Look. Fuyumi told me that she told you about the party. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings lying like that, but you didn't have to prove a point like that."
"Prove a point?"
"That's why you showed up, right?"
"No. I thought you wanted me there." She squints at him. "I know it's been a long time since we've been together, and only when it fits into my schedule, so I thought you were under the impression that I didn't care enough to come anyway."
She pinches the bridge of her nose. "Please tell me that was just tired-Kyoya thinking that and not you."
"I'm beginning to see some logical fallacies, yes."
"For example, why would I bother telling everyone not to tell you if I thought you didn't care in the first place? I made it a big secret because I knew you would care and I didn't want you to stress about something else to do. I thought it would be the straw that broke the camel's back, and—" She gestures to all of him. "—I was right!"
"You have every right to be upset, but currently your voice sounds like an air raid siren, so could you please turn it down a bit?"
She whispers. "I don't think you don't care. I know you do. But I know how important your job is to you, too. I just—I just wish you would listen to me and Fuyumi and Tamaki and everyone when we say you're pushing yourself too hard. I didn't know what else to do. Trying to tell you to take it easy, it's like talking to a brick wall…"
The door opens again. God. Damn it. Not NOW.
"Oh, there you are!" Jin laughs. "I was running circles trying to find you!"
Kosuke looks down to Jin's hand, carrying a large ornate frame. "What's that?"
"Oh, this?" Jin holds it up. It's a portrait of a woman staring forlornly out of a window. "It was in one of the upstairs bathrooms. I must've forgotten it!"
Neither Kosuke nor Kyoya say anything. Another stellar show of priorities by Jin Hobayashi.
Jin looks like she's about to say something else, but then she looks to the side and her face plummets. Suddenly she bristles like a cat, stepping backwards until she's almost out of sight.
Yoshio pauses before her, saying nothing. There's a long, dreadful silence that makes Kosuke stiffen. In the end, Jin just shakes her head and scoffs in disgust, storming off with her portrait.
Yoshio comes in, and Kosuke hesitantly stands to her feet. Her sunflowers still crumpled, she gives a respectful bow. "Mr. Ootori."
"Kosuke." He nods to her in turn. "I've been told I should thank you. From what I hear, we might be standing in a hospital room if it weren't for you."
Kosuke is quiet for much too long, and it makes Kyoya so nervous, his nausea returns in a tidal wave. Don't.
"Not at all, sir."
"I don't mean to be rude, but could I ask you to give Kyoya and I the room for a minute?"
She doesn't march obediently out. She considers carefully, gives a tentative nod, and only goes after she's given Kyoya a squeeze on his arm and a promise to come back.
Either his ringing ears are another symptom, or it truly is that quiet. Yoshio takes his time crossing the room to Kyoya, looking at the neat and tidy half and the half brimming with get-well gifts. He pushes the string of a Get well soon! balloon out of his path. He only stops once, when he sees the In memoriam photo and the wreath, but only shakes his head and sighs.
Kyoya sits up at last, even if his body is begging for him to stay down. Yoshio's image, at the foot of the bed, swims. Kyoya's brain sloshes inside his skull.
Yoshio begins with a click of his tongue. "I don't know whether to be impressed or disappointed."
Kyoya says nothing.
Mostly because he can't come up with a response.
"Jin said that this only happened because of your 'punishment.' I'm not inclined to use such a word, given that you're an adult, but I suppose that I did intend to remind you of your priorities. Your friends…You have such a tendency to let them do as they please, no matter the consequences. After some time, though, I thought I would see if you had a sense of balance."
Sense of balance? Kyoya maintains his mask. Not even a blink.
"I knew that it was beginning to be too much. You weren't socializing, you weren't taking care of yourself. So I pushed you a little harder. I wanted to see what it would take for you to finally speak up. You never did. If you want to have some effective role in Ootori Medical, Kyoya, you can't just be a sheep, following until you walk right off of a cliff. If you can't even stand on your own two feet, you're a detriment, not an asset."
Yoshio pauses so Kyoya can let that sink in. It's good, because it needs to.
There is a word that Kyoya doesn't like to use very often. Or ever, really. It is crass, ineloquent, too shorthand for what really needs to be said, and if he ever said such a word in the presence of his father, he would be crucified.
That word is bullshit.
And that is what this is.
Obey. Obey. Obey. That is what Kyoya has been told since he could walk. Obey. Obey. Obey. Do as you're told, when you're told, no questions, otherwise he's useless, he's embarrassing. He must always keep his head down. Even when there is no order—even if Yoshio never said not to help with the Tonnere Group—he must assume that there is one. Obey. Obey. Obey.
Until he isn't supposed to obey, apparently. Always, unless. Never, unless. When is the unless? Well, he should just know. Obey and he's a detriment. Disobey and he's a disgrace. Damned if he does, damned if he doesn't.
Bullshit.
Such—
That doesn't make any sense—
He can't—
No.
No.
No.
He has to calm down.
He's still over exhausted. He's delirious. He's not thinking straight.
This is his father. His father knows best. He knows everything. He's right. Kyoya can't work if he can't even stand on his own two feet. He was lucky to collapse at a party, and not when something important was happening. If he'd done that in the middle of a meeting…And after everything, just when they've made it out of the hurricane with DomenMed and the divorce, now Kyoya's gone and whirled it up again. Yoshio promises that Ootori Medical is as strong as ever, but he can't even keep his own son under control!
Stupid. Kyoya's stupid. Always so stupid. He should know better, he has to know better.
"Yes, Father."
"Needless to say, you're not going back today. Or anytime soon. Of course, you'll be attending classes next week, but otherwise you're on leave, and you will be resting. I don't want to hear that you're doing anything remotely taxing. I don't even want to hear that you're yawning more than three times a day. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Father."
"Do not let this happen again. This never happened with Yuuichi or Akito. You've made too many firsts already."
"Yes, Father."
Yoshio is still brewing, but he accepts that. He doesn't leave right away. He looks back to the balloons and the flowers. In memoriam. No wonder Yoshio dislikes the twins the most.
"Now. While I am still here, there is something else I want to inform you of." Yoshio pushes up his glasses. "Your mother and I have been discussing what to do with this—" He waves a hand upwards. "—now that you're the only one regularly living here. We first considered keeping the mansion just to have a venue for events, but your mother's seems to have made quite the impression, and with her taking her pieces, we see no point in redecorating if it'll only be used occasionally. We've decided to sell it instead."
Kyoya nods. He isn't surprised. Without the house staff, already cut in size twice, there would be nothing in here but Kyoya and the dust. There is, of course, one question remaining, which Yoshio answers.
"This of course means that you'll have to move out, and you'll have two options. You can join your mother in her new estate, or you can find your own place to live. It was around your age that Yuuichi and Akito went to live on their own. Finding a new residence will be entirely your responsibility, of course."
Kyoya nods again. "Yes, Father. I'll think over it."
Yoshio doesn't give any acknowledgement. It's clear which option he wants Kyoya to take. "Now then…" He looks at his wristwatch. "I need to be going. Remember what I said."
"Yes, Father."
Yoshio leaves, and Kyoya is confused. He needs to rest, but he should also start packing, he supposes. Fuyumi will undoubtedly force her help upon him, which will be just fantastic…Then there's the gifts. He was maybe seven when he last got this many. He had his tonsils removed. He'd kept the balloons until they deflated, and he supposes all the toys got thrown out the next year. Yoshio had made it a rule that his children were not allowed "things as asinine as stuffed animals" past the age of eight.
The door opens again, and Kyoya very nearly snaps. How is he supposed to rest with so many visitors? Please, don't let it be Tamaki…
It's not. It's Kosuke. He sighs in relief.
"Hey," she greets, still whispering. She's carrying a tray so gracefully the water in the glass barely ripples. "I just need you to eat this, and I'll leave you be."
There's a bowl of Greek yogurt topped with sliced strawberries, a hardboiled egg, and a little saucer of pan-roasted sweet potatoes. Kosuke explains as she sets it down over his lap. "I know you're probably nauseous, but you need to eat. And I was serious, I will make sure you're eating lunch every single day. Fuyumi and I are in cahoots." She taps the teaspoon into the eggshell for him. "So…Can I ask what your father said?"
Kyoya takes a drink of water and sighs around the rim. "I am on leave until further notice."
"Would you be angry if I said 'good'?"
"No, go ahead."
"Good. 'Good.'" She takes the cap off the egg, and pauses. "I'm not trying to make you feel worse than you already do."
"No, I deserve it. I was being completely illogical, pushing myself so hard. I made myself a detriment instead of an asset."
Kosuke frowns. He's made her look at him like that much too often lately. "You only did what he was telling you to do. It's not your fault."
Thank you. Kyoya doesn't say that. He doesn't think that. He can't think that.
While he dutifully eats, Kosuke reaches behind him and readjusts the pillow. Kyoya goes still, as though it's up to him not to touch her. She just barely brushes against his collar. She could do to him what he did to her. Touch the bumps of his spine with her fingertips. There's a magnetic sort of energy in the space between her hand and his neck. Kyoya ignores that. He also ignores the fact that her lips are still pink even with the lip gloss gone. He also ignores the smell of peaches. He also ignores that she's leaning towards him, over the tray, and with the neckline of her dress he can see quite a bit of her—
Oh, god.
He's a pervert.
Kosuke pulls away when she's satisfied. Suddenly, Kyoya is very cold.
"I'm sorry," he blurts out. Blurts. He doesn't blurt things. "About last night, I know I—"
"Kyoya, I know." She huffs a laugh. "You couldn't even tell your left from your right. Don't worry about it."
"I do apologize. I would never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. It was only because I was in that state—"
"You know, when you were in that state, you apologized just like you are right now." She winks at him. "You're a gentleman at heart."
I'm clearly not, if I'm having the thoughts I'm having right now. If he wanted to pull his hair out for collapsing in public, then it's a good thing he has a bowl in his hands, because otherwise he'd be tearing his scalp from his skull.
It can't just be lack of sleep and too much caffeine. Something has gotten into him. He can't think of Kosuke like that. Just those thoughts, let alone touching her like that, was so disrespectful of him. Not to mention, insane. Kyoya doesn't think that way about anyone. He could count on his fingertips how many times he's had such thoughts, maybe only on one hand, and it was only for Tamaki and Haruhi. And again, very few times—
Wait.
Kyoya rewinds.
He's never thought this way about anyone besides Tamaki and Haruhi. The people he used to uselessly, pathetically pine after. Only a few times, in all the years he's known them. And now Kosuke. Twice, in the span of twenty-four hours.
Which…
Probably means…
No.
No, no.
"Kyoya?"
Kosuke waves a hand in front of him. She's…bright. His eyes must be out of sorts, too. She's bright like the sunlight. "I said, do you want some orange juice, too?"
Yes, get out of here. No, stay.
"Yes, please."
"Okay. Then you're going to sleep. Whether you like it or not."
She points to her eyes, then at him, and goes. The room is dimmer after.
No.
No.
Chapter Summary:
Kyoya is so overworked he's reached the point of delirium. He pushes himself to keep going even as his own thoughts become incoherent. After once again being sent home by his father, Kyoya learns from Fuyumi that there's a party Kosuke kept from him. Kyoya, fearing that Kosuke thinks he has stopped caring to spend time with her, comes to the party regardless. Everyone picks up on his bad health, especially Kosuke, but he brushes them off. However, during a fireworks show, Kyoya collapses, waking up in his bedroom the next morning. He's scolded for pushing himself past his breaking point, especially by Kosuke, who kept the party from him so he wouldn't have to stress about it. Yoshio also comes to tell him that the last few weeks have been a test to see if Kyoya would speak up for himself, and Kyoya failed - a revelation that enrages Kyoya, though he keeps it to himself. Yoshio also informs Kyoya that the mansion is being sold, and Kyoya will have to move out soon. While talking to Kosuke afterwards, Kyoya comes to a realization that shakes him: he might have feelings for her.