UglyThunder: The slow burn is finally paying off! We made it!

argenteusvipera: Yeah, she didn't take the whole book for plot reasons lol. Kosuke's role in the group now is basically "okay you guys are crazy but I'll go along with it so long as you wear sunscreen," agreed. I swear, Kosuke and Kyoya are what happen when you have two touched-starved people together who have no idea that they're so touched-starved. Sadly we'll have to wait until the next chapter to see Kosuke's "realization," but right now we have Kyoya's. Pros and cons of a switching POV lol.

CaityJoy: No problem! Lol

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

He's fallen in love three times.

If he's not mistaken.

It makes sense. Far too much sense. He really can put it in a formula this time.

He's told things to Kosuke he's never told to anyone else, because he's comfortable with her in a way he's never been with anyone else.

He misses her when she's gone.

He feels not concern for her wellbeing, but a need to take care of her.

He doesn't just want her to be okay; he wants her to be happy.

When he makes her smile, it feels like a victory.

He'd always thought she was beautiful, but now he thinks she's gravitational.

What was it she had said at the Halloween Festival, about her siblings? "When they hurt, I hurt." Very true.

It's not that he'd been unaware of all this before, but he'd marked it up to a fire-forged friendship. They'd formed a solidarity that couldn't be matched; it wouldn't make sense for him not to feel an overt attachment to her.

For good measure, Kyoya thinks to those little quizzes Fuyumi would find in her magazines and make him take, no matter how many times the tally disappointed her.

Are You in Love? Find out below! Answer A if no, B if maybe, and C if yes!

Do you want to hold their hand for no reason?

Do you love the sound of their laughter?

Have you ever been stopped in your tracks at the sight of them?

C, C, and C. Congratulations! You are one-hundred-percent, certifiably in loooooove!

Years ago, Kyoya thought that you'd have to be a special kind of daft to have to rely on a magazine to tell you if you were in love. He must be becoming that special kind of daft.

In the immediate aftermath of his realization, it had taken a great deal of convincing, reassuring, and borderline begging to convince Kosuke (and Fuyumi and Tamaki and his mother) that he'd healed enough from his fall to rest without a babysitter. He was too exhausted to move, but his eyes wouldn't stay shut. He'd just stared up at the ceiling, trying to get a handle on the situation.

The thought of being in love with Kosuke—if he is, and those C's say that he is—is not scary, per se. Falling in love with Tamaki and Haruhi hadn't been scary. Scary would be if he fell in love with Amaya Domen, for instance. That would have been a horror story to share around the fire.

No, for everything they've been through together, it is very logical to be in love with Kosuke. He doesn't feel like he's lost control of himself. In fact, the moments that they're together are some of the few where Kyoya doesn't feel like the world is crumbling around him.

The problem is that he'd spent years letting his feelings for Tamaki and Haruhi occupy too much of his mind to afford. He'd finally laid those feelings to rest, and in doing so felt more like himself than he had in years. Deteriorating health aside, he'd had a moment of bliss. Unnecessary feelings gone, his standing with his father repaired, and an understanding friend to share his life with.

No matter what the fine details of the problem are, that there is a problem, again, period, is teeth-gnashing annoying. Out with the old love, in with the new. Back to square one.

It is those finer details that are most distressing, however. He's been here twice before and he still feels he has no reference for how to continue.

Everything about being in love with Kosuke is different than it had been with Haruhi and Tamaki. Apples and oranges, really. Emotionally and literally, he is closer to her than he had ever been with Haruhi and Tamaki. Even if he had told them the things he'd told Kosuke, the closest he'd been to being betrothed to either of them was his father apparently (possibly, maybe) bouncing around the idea of letting Kyoya marry Haruhi if he so desired.

(Which, as a side note, still makes no sense to him.)

Otherwise, there's nothing to compare. Tamaki and Haruhi were bound to love one another the second they met, and Kyoya and Kosuke were bound to marry one another, love or not, before they ever laid eyes on each other. Point being, Kyoya can't separate himself this time around.

Then there's the concept of rejection, which, one saving grace, he'd never had to give a thought to with Haruhi and Tamaki.

If he acts this time, and outright tells her how he feels, it will go one of two ways. 'Yes' or 'no.'

If 'no,' then that would surely still be better than spending years wondering what if. Kyoya has only ever been on the giving end of rejection, but he would like to think that he'd take it well and not die of a bleeding heart. He would have his grieving period and eventually move on. They would still get married regardless, and married life with Kosuke was starting to sound more and more appealing before he realized his love for her was eros and not philia. He likes to imagine them going about their morning routines side-by-side, or silently reading books on Caribbean cuisine and classic fiction together, or hearing each other say happy new year at midnight rather than texting it. With time, Kyoya would stop wanting more and appreciate what he already has with her.

There is only one reason for Kyoya to fear rejection. He knows for a fact that it will not only be the gentlest 'no' he could ever receive, but that Kosuke would spend who knows how long trying to make up for it. Kyoya will promise that it's fine a million times, and she'll still feel guilty for some insane reason for another, and perhaps do what she'd done the last time she'd learned he was in love, and give him space as though she were contagious. It's not an unfounded worry that she'll make it all about him, but it is a selfish one, maybe. The worry that she'll be forever uncomfortable around him, however, is not.

With rejection comes a risk of ruining everything between them, and Kyoya would rather take his secret to the grave. He can recover from 'no,' but not from losing her entirely, by his own doing. The idea of Kosuke shutting him out, however kindly, is too much to linger on.

That leaves the other possible outcome: 'Yes.' Also too much to linger on.

Because any thoughts he'd had about Tamaki and Haruhi reciprocating? Of either of them saying I love you, of looking at Kyoya with adoration? All fantasies. Make-believe. Just the things he saw in his dreams that made him want to bash his head into the wall when he awoke in the morning.

With Kosuke? They're all hypotheticals. Not real, but not real at all, or not real yet?

When these hypotheticals come to mind, it's too much. He doesn't just imagine them, he hears them and sees them and feels them. Holding her close enough to smell peaches. Her sleeping face on the pillow beside him. Pink lip gloss. Years he'd spent trying not to think about what would never be, and now that he can divulge in imagining what could be, he's falling apart at the seams.

It's terrifying. If he's like this over what might be, what kind of jelly-brained idiot will he become if it is?

This is all really beside the point, however. Whatever future he conjures up is reliant on the coin toss of whether Kosuke feels the same way he does.

Is Your Friend in Love with You? Take this quiz to find out! Mark A if no, B if maybe, and C if yes!

Did they give you something for Valentine's Day or White Day?

Have they ever given you a very specific compliment on how you look?

Do they get flustered if you touch them?

C (she gave something to everyone), C (she was drugged out of her mind on OTC medication), and C (I was drugged out of my mind on lack of sleep). It sounds like your friend is head-over-heels for you! Asterisk.

If only Kosuke could be like Tamaki, and just have a giant neon sign above her head flashing I AM IN LOVE. Or like Reiko, and shamelessly declare that Kyoya owns her heart and soul whether asked or not.

Every clue he thinks he finds, there's an unless. If he had marked up their closeness to a fire-forged friendship, then surely Kosuke could be doing just the same. If he can't come up with some soundproof evidence, then there's no point in theorizing.

Then.

He finds her wandering the beach at night looking for a page of her late mother's diary, he translates the writing for her, she opens up to him and confesses that she feels like she's losing control of her own life, something he understands completely, he assures her hopefully for the last time that he wants to help her and she shouldn't ever fear confiding in him, he takes her hand for good measure, and not only does she not pull away, she looks at him in a way she never has before, in the way that her grandparents look at one another and the way that his parents used to look at one another and the way that Tamaki and Haruhi look at one another, but at him.

And maybe, maybe, maybe she had been moving closer to him. It had been very dark.

And then Renge showed up to…be Renge.

Is that evidence?

If Kyoya is going to get to the bottom of this, it'll have to be away from her, sadly. If you can't solve the problem, step away and come back to it later, as his tutors would say. He hasn't seen much of Kosuke since they returned from their trip, but what little he has seen only makes his head spin a little faster.

He feels sorry for it, but when Kosuke says over their Friday lunch that she won't be able to join him for apartment-hunting the next day, Kyoya feels relieved even though he'd invited her to begin with.

Tamaki, however, is crushed. "But Kosuke! This could be your apartment, too. Don't you want to see the kitchen where you'll be making sunny-side-up eggs on Sunday mornings?"

Kyoya takes a drink of tea to wash down the lump in his throat. They'd talked about living together before—everybody under the sun expected them to once they married. It's never seemed as real as it does now, though, and Kosuke seems to think the same, fingers twitching at Tamaki's words.

"I certainly have my opinions on what constitutes a decent kitchen to make sunny-side up eggs on Sunday mornings," she says as she tucks her planner into her bookbag. She'd been making notes while they ate, and like Kyoya, she packs the margins to burst. Unlike Kyoya, she has a whole color-coded system of highlighters and glittery gel pens that hurt to look at. "I just can't give those opinions tomorrow. I swore cross-my-heart-hope-to-die that I would take Minami to see the Karate Knights movie opening day. This is literally life or death."

"That is a fair reason," Tamaki acquiesces solemnly. "Kyoya, do you think you've absorbed enough of Kosuke's wisdom to guide you?"

He and Kosuke look to one another, and though she hadn't been actively avoiding his gaze from what Kyoya could tell, it seemed that she, like him, feels this new pang whenever their eyes meet.

Evidence?

Kyoya dutifully recites, "If there is an island, make sure that there is space on the other side for two people to safely pass one another."

"And make sure there is an outlet for every four feet of space." Kosuke gives him a wink and grabs her bookbag strap. "You've got this. If you find one you like, text me pictures so I can see and—Ooh!"

Kosuke's whole body jolts, and her bookbag THUMPS back down to the floor. Pens scatter out and their teacups clatter on the table, students jumping and turning to see the commotion. Kyoya moves forward, but Tamaki is already on his feet.

"Kosuke! Are you alright? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing." Kosuke rolls her shoulder, wincing, and switches the bookbag strap to the other. She looks more sheepish than anything. "Maybe I cramped my arm taking so many notes last night. It's fine, really."

"Are you sure? I can carry your bag for you."

"Nope. You need to stick with Kyoya and come up with a must-have list. I have confidence in you both!"

Kyoya hands her the pens he'd gathered up for her, and she takes them with a thankful but still-flustered smile. He can't decide whether to believe her or not. On the one hand, undermining her troubles is her favorite pastime. On the other hand, even he'd given himself study-cramps before. All the same, he lets her go, and Tamaki at once scrawls Apartment Must-Haves on a sheet of notebook paper. While Tamaki launches right in (Dishwasher! Washer and dryer! ROOM FOR COMPANY! All of this in glittery gel ink, because apparently Kosuke got him hooked.), Kyoya thanks Kosuke's absence for more time to think. He also worries that more time to think will lead him straight to insanity.

Another poor night's sleep later sees him and Tamaki bouncing around Tokyo from one apartment to the next, skyscraper after skyscraper, running through a combination of search results and recommendations. Kyoya hardly has to say a thing; Tamaki comes up with every possible question and then some. They walk through many doors and meet many guides and see many rooms, but Kyoya finds that they're comparing apples to apples.

"But if those features aren't enough," the latest guide is saying with the same cheeky grin the last guide had, as she lifts a remote just as the last guide had, "you can't beat this view!"

The black panels over the floor-to-ceiling windows slide up and cast the three of them among the clouds with Tokyo spread out beneath them. The people are specks, the roads are ribbons, and every tower seems an ocean away. The blue haze of the sea is almost lost in the sky. The guide promises that the view is stunning now, but at night it'll knock you right off your feet. Kyoya can believe it.

It's just the same view that the last apartment had, and the last. It would be too pretentious even for Kyoya to say that it was getting old, but how was he supposed to pick one? Black furniture on gray floors, monochrome photography lining the walls, living rooms that stretch miles. Each has some centerpiece, maybe a waterfall or a decorative wall of fire, and a rocket's worth of panels and remotes to change the lighting, the music, the surround-sound, and of course, the panels over the floor-to-ceiling windows. Kyoya thinks he even sees the same white kintsugi vase on the coffee table that the last apartment had. He would like to know, why have they all gone with the same black-white-gray color palette? What about it says, Welcome to your new home?

Tamaki is not tired of the view, and barely restrains himself from mashing is face to the glass like a child. "Woooow. Imagine waking up to this every morning, Kyoya!"

Already have a dozen times now, Kyoya muses to himself. He has imagined himself doing many things, from eating breakfast at the dining room table to working at the desk to just sitting on the living room sofa. There's something off about every image.

Maybe when I've had the chance to make it mine, he thinks, but he can't imagine that, either. He feels like even his coffee mugs will have to have to be monochrome to fit in.

"Let's see the bedroom," Tamaki says, down the hall halfway through the sentence. A delighted ooooh follows. "Kyoya, there's a hot tub in the bedroom!"

The guide swoops in for the kill, her heels clacking down the hall to join him. "A hot tub with over a dozen different jet settings! Let me show you."

While they do that, Kyoya goes to the kitchen, made up of the same stainless steel appliances and marble countertops as the others. It's more than big enough. Outlets every four feet, enough room to move around. The island has a sleek black surface, and at the edge there's a little picture of a pointer finger. Kyoya taps there, and a touchscreen appears in the island, giving an overview of the weather, estimated traffic delay, and too many apps to count. Kyoya doesn't plan on playing match-three games while drinking his morning coffee.

Kosuke would grimace at the sight. Kyoya knows she hates all things superfluous in the kitchen. He remembers that when they were all hiding away in the Suzuki's mansion from the typhoon, sitting in the candlelight, she'd picked up a magazine from the shelf and flipped through the pages. Something inside had made her sneer and drop it right back, and while she went to the 'entertainment bag' to grab something else, Kyoya had taken a curious look to see what had disgusted her: an automatic mixing bowl that didn't use buttons, but rather an app that you would download on your phone.

Kyoya had almost chuckled aloud. Besides the beginning of their relationship, when he was still an insufferable know-it-all to her, he saw her at her angriest when she saw such drivel. She also only ever used the word drivel for such things. Funnily enough, Kyoya has always had the impression that she would die defending her angriest culinary opinions, yet when she catches herself rambling on the histories of bottled sodas, she cuts herself off and apologizes. When they were just warming up to one another, Kyoya found such ramblings amusing, if not interesting. The ancient origins of pizza aren't his usual area of intrigue, but Kosuke could make it sound like the pinnacle of human civilization. Later, he was often just impressed by how much she could fit in her brain. Later still, no matter if the topic intrigued him or not, Kyoya would listen just to see her fired up. Few things seem as charming as Kosuke vibrating with energy, eyes sparkling, hands moving about as she goes on and on about something that she thinks so extraordinary, she just has to share it with him.

Oh, Kyoya is not focusing at all.

"…and every room has heated floors, as a bonus," the guide's voice carries in from the hall.

Tamaki is still riveted, but Kyoya knows they're done here. He looks down at his wristwatch and fakes a little grimace. "I'm afraid I haven't been watching the time. Tamaki, we need to go now if we're going to make it to the next viewing."

"Oh." The guide's face falls. "How unfortunate. You didn't even get to see the bedroom."

"I will have it described to me in vivid detail, I assure you. Tamaki, let's go. Thank you very much for your time."

Rather than the next viewing, they go to a café next, because Kyoya isn't going to make it through any more of these without some caffeine. While Tamaki sweats over whether to get a strawberry croissant or a chocolate éclair, Kyoya pulls out his tablet to confirm his suspicions. He looks at photos for the next dozen stops on the list, and they are all almost identical. Same colors, same shapes. Even the reviews, however glowing, repeat the same buzzwords. Luxurious, high-end, spacious.

He takes a glance to his phone. The Karate Knights movie should be over in another hour, if he remembers Kosuke right. He considers texting her after to see if she can join then, but…no. She'll want to spend the day with Minami, and regardless, she's enough of a distraction when she isn't here.

Tamaki sits down with a strawberry croissant and a chocolate éclair, and wisely observes, "Still no winners yet?"

"It looks like I just need to decide if I want the floorboards to be charcoal gray, ash gray, or gunmetal gray." Kyoya turns the tablet off with a sigh and picks up his coffee. "A difficult decision."

"You don't sound very enthusiastic." Tamaki picks up his tea, but puts it right back down as a thought occurs to him. "Is it because you don't want to move out at all?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I mean, this must be a lot for you to take in all at once. Moving out of the home you grew up in, living by yourself…"

"I practically already was." Tamaki begins to go on, but Kyoya holds up his coffee-free hand to stop him. "I'm perfectly at ease with the concept of moving out, I assure you. If anything, I should have years ago."

"So…What is it, then? The commute to work? The long elevator rides? Oh! It's the kitchens, isn't it?" Tamaki wags a finger at him, looking quite proud of himself. "Every time we leave, it's after you look at the kitchen. You're channeling Kosuke's spirit to make your decision."

Kyoya wants to argue, but he doesn't have an argument to make. That is true. "Something like that."

It is food for thought. If all of these apartments are exactly the same, then they must have the exact same problem.

Kyoya thinks aloud, "They're rather big for one person."

"Sure, but think about when you have company over!"

Kyoya looks at him over the top of the tablet.

"Nevermind. I guess they are…" Tamaki tears off a gooey chunk of croissant. "It's not like you'll be doing any of the cleaning, though, right? You'll be hiring someone to do that for you."

His bedroom alone is probably bigger than any of the living rooms they've seen, that's true enough, but Kyoya thinks he's come a little closer to the truth. If not the size, then what?

Kyoya taps away on the tablet, thinking that perhaps he just needs some perspective.

He switches up the search settings, and gets pages and pages more of listings, double digits to triple digits. Not just penthouses on the top floors, but smaller units on low-rises, descriptions like perfect for a family and walking distance to the school. The hallways squeeze tighter; hardwood floors become tatami mats, and colors warm up to brown and orange and yellow. Sunlight, not LED displays.

A little more perspective wouldn't hurt. "Let's take a detour."

"For these units, rent is 85,000. This first bedroom has a small closet, while the second bedroom includes a walk-in closet, with even more storage space here in the hall. To your right here, you'll find your bath and toilet—"

Tamaki flings the door open with a gasp. "I forgot they keep them separate!"

"Erm…yes, sir. Oh, and both the living room and the second bedroom have access to the balcony, if you'd like to give it a look."

For the first time this morning, Kyoya seeks out the view. The balcony is made up of orange tiles, a scuff here, a crack there, imperfect…yet, authentic. Instead of ribbon-streets and speck-people, Kyoya finds a ginkgo tree in explosive green bloom. The unit to the right is occupied, and its balcony is well-loved, a line of flowerpots hung over one end, a sprawling tomato plant curling up from the other. The view is otherwise a collection of telephone wires and the street corner, the cars so close he can make out the license plates. Below him, a door creaks open, and a little boy and girl come running out of the building, running off towards a misadventure. The wind picks up, and somewhere a windchime sings.

Kyoya looks back inside to a blank slate free of kintsugi vases and flashy screens. The kitchen is separated by the joint dining room-living room by half of a wall. It's not big, but it's big enough. There's plenty of storage, enough room for two people to move about. The bedrooms are where the imagination is really left to run wild, no hot tubs, no waterfalls, just a big empty cube of space. Kyoya hadn't thought of the bedrooms much, but he can imagine that this where the bed should be, that he can get better blinds to block out the light from the balcony doors, which spots on the wall would be best for framed photos.

He'd been looking at apartments with two bedrooms, just in case. Or perhaps, if the children come with them, he should look for a three-room unit instead? Four? Kosuke would be free to use the balcony for another garden. She can hang herbs over the edge, grow her own tomatoes. She can do whatever she wants with the kitchen; total control. They can put a hook on the wall for her aprons. They can decorate with the afghan blankets and quilts and doilies and whatever works of bronze or iron or steel Airi and Sugimoto will be showering them with. There's a park within walking distance; Hitsuji would love that. Kyoya isn't one for television, but they can get one if Kosuke or the children want it. He could join Kosuke on the sofa for those cooking competitions he sometimes catches her watching, or maybe that's where they'll do their reading, or maybe the children can set up camp there to watch cartoons like Karate Knights.

"Kyoya, look!" The closet door slides open, and Tamaki is grinning ear-to-ear inside, bouncing on his feet. The top of his head comes dangerously close to pounding into the ceiling. "They call this a walk-in closet, even though you hardly can!" He slides the door shut again, and his voice muffles through. "Everything is so tiny! The balcony, the kitchen…There aren't any air conditioners, you have to buy those yourselves, and the bedrooms are six tatami mats while the dining room and living room is only eleven! That's not even twice as big for twice as many rooms! The walls are so thin, I could hear someone's dog barking from downstairs. There's hardly enough room in the kitchen for a one-door fridge, let alone a two-door, and just imagine having company over in this small of a space! I think it's delightful! I think it's…"

He slides the door open again. "…really not you, Kyoya."

"You don't think so?" Kyoya asks, as if he doesn't know that living in a place like this would have been his worst nightmare not long ago. "It's small, true, but it's not as excessive as those other places, don't you think?"

The guide has stayed in the other room to let them look around and talk—probably thinking that it's Tamaki who's moving in with Kyoya, with reason—but Tamaki still peeks out of the bedroom door before he closes it. Once he's alone with Kyoya and the shadows that stretch across the floor, he asks, "Are you sure you're alright, Kyoya? I know you've having to think carefully here, but I can't help but feel that there's something else on your mind."

He couldn't be more right, but even if Kyoya could bring himself to speak the whole, unbroken truth, Tamaki isn't supposed to know that there is a truth. As far as he knows, Kyoya went through this…experience the second he met Kosuke. He can hear it now: "Tamaki, I lied to you; I wasn't in love with Kosuke when we first got engaged. In fact, we loathed each other, and were putting on a show to make everyone happy." Followed by every frame of glass within five miles shattering with the following "WHAT?!"

It would be nice, though, to talk to someone. Especially Tamaki. Not only because really, who is more knowledgeable in being so caught up in love that it makes all other thoughts cease than him? But also, there's a distance between them lately that Kyoya didn't mean to make, and having Friday lunches doesn't mend the gap. Kosuke had said that Tamaki hadn't left his side from the second he fell, and Kyoya never so much as thanked him for it.

Kyoya turns to look at him, and Tamaki waits, maybe stunned that Kyoya doesn't shut him down at once. He closes the flimsy plastic blinds on the balcony for good measure, and somehow the room is still glowing, yellow dulling to orange.

"Before I ask this," Kyoya begins uncertainly, "don't look too much into it. It's just something that's been on my mind recently and I'd like to hear what you have to say."

Tamaki stands straight as a pin. "Alright! What is it?"

"When you realized that you loved Haruhi, after a thousand years of obliviousness and naivete and thinking that you thought of her as a daughter—"

"Can we please move on from this?"

"—was your reaction immediate happiness, or something more complicated?"

Tamaki's head tilts. "I know you said don't look too deep, but can I at least ask what brought this on?"

Kyoya thinks of a lie in seconds flat. At least he still has that skill. "When we were at the engagement party for Rutaro Onoda and Shiori Mogami last week, and Rutaro was giving a toast, he said that when Shiori gave him her cardigan—"

"—to cover up his shirt after he slipped in the mud, that was when he realized he was in love with her, and he felt such a happiness that he completely forgot to feel silly for wearing a teeny-tiny little cardigan covered in polka dots!" Tamaki raises a hand to his face and sighs dreamily. "They're going to be great together!"

"Yes, when he said that, I realized that that isn't quite what happened with Kosuke. It wasn't…instant happiness. I had some reservations."

Thankfully, Tamaki is not horrified. He hums and folds his long arms over his chest. "Were you scared?"

"No. Of what?"

Tamaki shrugs. "I was, I think. At first I was just mortified that I hadn't realized it sooner—"

"After a thousand years of obliviousness and naivete and thinking that you thought of her as a daughter."

"—I get it. After that, I was scared of everything that could go wrong. It was before my grandmother came around, you know, while my mother was still alone in Paris."

Kyoya nods as though he isn't stunned and ashamed to hear that. He'd never even though of that, and how could he not? Of course Tamaki would have been terrified. His grandmother had dangled his mother's wellbeing and whereabouts before his eyes for years. She'd used Anne-Sophie to try and strongarm him into marrying Éclair Tonnere. So easily had she taken Anne-Sophie away from Yuzuru, her own son meant to uphold the honor of the family she'd born him into, surely she'd have found it easier to do the same to the bastard grandchild who wanted to sully their bloodline with even more peasantry.

Kyoya sometimes still can't grasp that the Suohs are on civil terms now—and personally, his own terms with Shizue Suoh are civil as the bare minimum. He knows it's not his place to forgive her, but he hasn't forgotten how much she's hurt Tamaki. This is a bitter reminder.

"After that…" Tamaki leans back against the wall. "I suppose it can be frightening, to love someone so much. I wondered what I would do, if anything happened to her—if I lost her, somehow."

Kyoya doesn't think he's ever considered losing Kosuke. He doesn't know what he would do, either.

But it is terrifying.

"But!" Tamaki points a finger up in the air, triumphant, and gives Kyoya a wink. "I thought it would be better to have her and lose her, than never have her at all. And really, everything after that has been…just perfect." He says the last words delicately.

Just perfect.

Seems like an unkeepable promise.

Still.

It would be nice to try.

"What about you? Is that how it was for you?"

"Maybe." Kyoya looks around the sunny little bedroom that already seems filled with memories. "Maybe so. Now, that…alien-robot-animal café that you love so much, that should be close by, shouldn't it?"

"I think so. Why?"

"Let's go there after this. Even if it's neon blue, I could use some more coffee."

"Really?" Tamaki cries, but he gives a celebratory cry before Kyoya even answers. He's bouncing on his feet for the rest of the viewing, and Kyoya thinks again that he definitely needs to spend more time with him. It's the least he could do for everything Tamaki has done for him.

Kyoya decides that he should do something, quickly enough to feel almost proud of himself.

He comes to this conclusion that evening, as he spends yet another night trying to fall asleep before tomorrow (though this time, he might blame it on whatever was in that neon-blue 'Espresso Shock' drink). It might still go one of two ways, but maybe not the two ways he'd thought.

Kosuke says 'no.' She frets and fusses over him, because maybe she doesn't love him like that, but she does love him. She won't revoke the words she'd given him at the Valentine's party over his confession. With time, they will return to normal. Perhaps Kyoya gets over it, or perhaps not. Either way, she'll still be Kosuke, always there, ready to listen, ready to help, and Kyoya will be forever grateful just because they met. They can still sit on the sofa and watch cooking competitions together. She can have the kitchen even if she doesn't move in with him. He'll keep up her garden for her while she's away.

Kosuke says 'yes.' They try for perfect.

Once he makes up his mind (and takes in the surge of energy that comes with it), Kyoya is left to come up with a strategy.

He is not doing this over the phone. That would be ludicrous. Aphrodite would smite him.

He could write a letter, but that would be cowardly. He just doesn't think it would count if he couldn't even say the words.

He could ask her to meet him somewhere to talk, but she's already so busy, he'd hate to take up even more of her time for—this.

It would be best for him to wait until the right moment. Only problem being, he doesn't know when the right moment will be. He might (and this is very sentimental, not his typical line of thinking, but this is apparently how his brain works now) just feel it in his heart. The best thing about this option is that he can scrap the in-a-moment-of-weakness, purely-hypothetical, still-not-fully-awake idea of buying her a bouquet of roses—because if he's going to become a lovesick fool, he might as well embrace it, right?

He isn't planning for the moment to happen the following Monday. Not a conversation to have as they're running through the crowd to get to their next classes. Kyoya only plans to see her again, because he hasn't all weekend. She spent Saturday with Minami. She'd sent him a photo of them outside of the theater, dressed in colorful Karate Knights T-shirts they'd been handing out at the premiere, two sizes too big on either of them. On Sunday Hitsuji caught a fever and she was on nurse duty even after it broke. It makes Kyoya remember Friday, and when he asks if she's alright, she responds with an I'm okay and three thumbs-up emojis.

It isn't quite that he's dying to see her in person; he isn't that far gone yet. It's simply…nice, to see her. Soothing to the nerves. Fuyumi had told him, long, long ago, that that was how she knew she was mad for Tetsu. Every time my eyes landed on him, it felt like a little treat, just for me…Kyoya had thought that was disgustingly sweet. Still does. But now he understands.

He goes through most of the day without catching a glimpse of her, which isn't unusual. He runs into the twins, who demand to know if it's true that he's going to move into a commoner's apartment ("How many fingers am I holding up?"), and the Zukas, who want to know when he'll be moving out and in so that they can help. He appreciates the distractions from the airy lightness in his chest. He's buoyant. Ridiculous. It's difficult to focus in his classes knowing that when "the right moment" comes, it'll define the rest of his future.

When his last period ends, Kyoya is convinced he'll have to wait just a little while longer to see Kosuke. But just seconds after he's out of the door, he hears hurried footsteps, a stern voice calling, "Kyoya!"

Reiko has her long skirt hiked up to her knees to help her run (or glide, rather) faster down the hall to him. Reiko Kanazuki has never (perhaps in her whole life) held the expression of fear on her face. But there is the slightest crease between her brows, a blue moon sight reserved only for the most dire of circumstances, the worst emergencies. It's a miniscule shift from the ordinary that has the other students around him stuttering in their steps, whispering to one another, just as alarmed as Kyoya is. A fire. A terrible accident. Someone is hurt.

"What's happened," Kyoya says at once, a demand, not a question.

"It's Kosuke," Reiko says, and Kyoya's stomach drops to his feet. "She's in the infirmary. You need to come, now!"

Kyoya is following her before she's finished talking.

The infirmary (formally known as the Ouran University Medical Center) isn't that far, but it's too far. It's only his bated breath that keeps Kyoya from asking the millions of questions flooding his brain.

Why is she here instead of a real hospital? Has anyone called an ambulance? What happened?

He doesn't think he's ever felt so terrified in his life. Tamaki's voice floats between his ears. I wondered what I would do, if anything happened to her…It might have been a harbinger.

When they make it into the building, past one waiting room after another, his ribs cracked from his heart's pummeling, Kyoya truly thinks he's going to be sick. There's a crowd of people huddled inside, each looking more ashen than the last. Benjiro paces the room as if he doesn't know what else to do. Rika sits on one of the waiting chairs hiding her face in her hands, while Yoshiko rubs soothing circles on her back. It seems that every culinary student on campus has come, and with them whispers of dread, hands pressed to mouths. Dread is filling the room in a fog.

Benjiro stops mid-pace when he sees Kyoya enter, and dashes to him, almost shaking. "You're finally here."

"Where is she?"

"Inside—Go, go."

Kyoya pushes through the door in a daze, only sure that whatever he finds inside is going to gut him until he can't stand on his feet.

It does not.

Inside the small room, there are the Zukas, the twins, Tamaki, Renge, a nurse, a doctor, and, sitting atop the examination chair, Kosuke.

Who looks…

Perfectly fine.

Apart from being scared out of her skin when he bursts through the door. Hand still on her heart, she scolds him. "I told you to stop doing that!"

Kyoya looks around the room, still trying to catch his breath. Everyone looks terrible except for the patient. Hani is trembling with fear, and Mori's hand is stiff on his shoulder, like even he doesn't know if everything will be okay. Reiko comes to her fiancé's side with heavy eyes. Renge's pen for once is not jotting down otome ideas, but is being chewed between her teeth. Kaoru holds a fist to his mouth like it'll help keep the terror inside. Hikaru is buzzing with a panicked energy, ready to leap into action at a given moment. Tamaki is, of course, the worst. His face is already streaked with tears, with more threatening to spill over already. With how he looks at Kosuke and holds her hand, one would think she'd already given her last breath.

Kyoya makes another demand. "Someone tell me what's happening, now."

"It's nothing," Kosuke sighs. "Everyone is being overdramatic—"

"Shhh, shhh, don't waste your energy…" Tamaki presses a gentle finger to her lips and turns his tearstained face to Kyoya, oblivious to how Kosuke is glaring into the middle distance. "I'll tell him. Hikaru, Kaoru, stay with her."

They rush to her side (she sighs again) as Tamaki goes to Kyoya, pulling him away just so and squeezing Kyoya's shoulders to keep him grounded. As though Kyoya's the one falling to pieces.

"Now, before I tell you what happened…" Tamaki's voice sounds like broken glass. He sniffles and steels himself at the same time. "Just know that everything is going to be okay, and we're going to be right here—"

"Tamaki."

"Okay, okay. Just…" Tamaki swallows thickly and takes a deep, shuddering breath. Just saying the words are excruciating. "Kosuke was in class. They…They were cooking. Spaghetti, I think. Or lasagna. Some kind of pasta. Rigatoni? Maybe angel hair—"

"Tamaki!"

"Right, right, okay. They were working on an assignment, and she was cooking. Everything was going fine, she was great. You know how she loves to cook." The way he says that, with a broken smile, as though Kosuke is already a bittersweet memory, has Kyoya fuming. "And she…She…I can't, I—I don't know if I can say it…"

Kyoya's hands move up, to shake him or throttle him or something, and Tamaki just takes them in his own hands and nods, a new flood of tears already pouring. "You need to know. She…She was carrying a bowl of her dough, and she…sh—she dropped it."

He doesn't explain further.

So Kyoya spits, "That's it?"

"Kyoya. Kyoya, listen to me." Now Tamaki cradles Kyoya's face in his palms. "Kosuke. Kosuke was cooking. And she dropped something."

It takes Kyoya a second.

He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I know, I know, but the doctors are going to do everything they can—"

"Just to be clear." Kyoya walks away from him to Kosuke, who's in the middle of marking off something on a clipboard sheet for the nurse. "You're in here because you dropped a bowl in the kitchen? That's it?"

Hikaru gags. Kaoru flinches. Hani buries his face into Reiko's shoulder.

Kosuke replies, "Yep."

"Alright." The doctor steps forward and takes his glasses off of his collar, peering down at his notes as he tells them all, "I know you're all here to give your friend your support, but it is much too crowded in here—not to mention the one-guest-per-patient rule is being broken seven times over. One of you can stay. The rest of you, please wait outside."

Everyone says Kyoya, he needs to stay, he's her fiancé. Getting the room empty takes a thousand years, as everyone takes their time giving Kosuke their good wishes ("You'll pull through this, I know you will!"), their pleas ("Think of the children!") and promises ("You're going to walk out of here and we're going to go eat a whole cake to celebrate, you'll see!"), squeezes of the hand and kisses on the forehead. Kosuke is very clearly about to scream by the time the door closes behind them all, Tamaki's sniffles drifting away.

While the nurse leaves through the other door, taking the clipboard with her, the doctor raises his eyebrows at Kosuke. "You are very loved. Now, as for your diagnosis…"

Kyoya comes to stand beside her. Even though he knows it isn't a tenth as serious as everyone is making it out to be, he needs to know what's happening. Tamaki wasn't wrong: Kosuke never spills so much as a drop when she's in the kitchen.

"It seems that we're looking at a muscle strain in your bicep caused by chronic stress." The doctor circles his pen around Kosuke's arm as she nods along to his words. "You moving around the kitchen, playing with your siblings—so much lifting and pushing and pulling over time. It was last Wednesday that you said this pain started?"

Kosuke nods, looking sheepish, the same expression she had when she shifted her bookbag strap onto her other shoulder.

"I've had sore arms before. Usually, I just rest and the problem fixes itself, it's never been this bad before."

"Did you rest this time?" Kosuke doesn't answer, and the doctor's huffed laugh is kind. "Thought so. When your muscle starts feeling sore like that, you need to take it easy, and if it's sore for more than three days, you should see a doctor. You're lucky that you didn't do something that turned the strain into a tear. Those take much, much longer to heal, and are much more painful. For this, you should be better in just a few weeks. Over-the-counter medicine will help with the pain. Ice it when you can, keep it elevated when you can—especially when you go to bed. Most importantly, take it easy. No heavy lifting, no stretching, nothing that will make it worse than it already is. I might also suggest a brace, if you would like."

Kosuke says "I think so" as Kyoya says "Yes."

"Alright. A nurse will come and help you with that shortly." The doctor takes the top sheet off his own clipboard and hands it to Kosuke. "If you have any other concerns, feel free to come back, but if you feel a sudden pop, a sudden pain that you can't bear, you need to head straight to the emergency room. I hope you get well soon, Miss Amida."

"Thank you so much." Kosuke looks over the paper, covered in the doctor's notes and suggestions, results of tests. "I don't think I've ever gotten an X-ray done at a school infirmary before."

"Oh, we have everything we'd ever need here. We could perform surgery here if we wanted to."

"…You haven't, though, right?"

The doctor chuckles as he leaves the room.

"He didn't answer my question."

Kyoya takes a minute to just look down at his feet and think. Or, get a hold of himself. He doesn't even know what he's feeling right now; everything is cancelling each other out. He's relieved that she's safe, furious he was led to think she wasn't, exasperated with their friends, pleased to see her again, upset to see her like this, all this while he's still digesting the fact that he's probably in love with her and had just decided to do something about it. And knowing that in a parallel timeline, she isn't just being sent away with doctor's orders and a pat on the back.

Mostly, he's frustrated.

Frustrated, frustrated, frustrated, frustrated, frustrated.

"When you dropped your bag at lunch on Friday. Why did you say you were okay?"

It takes her a second to remember. She folds the sheet, and Kyoya almost stops her. Is that too much? "I thought I was. Like I said, I've had a sore muscle before. I didn't think it was anything serious."

"For two days, by then. And it was causing you serious pain."

"Well, yeah, but two days isn't that much."

"Then it was three, then four. I asked just last night if you were okay, and you said yes."

Kosuke keeps the folded page in her hand as she looks up at him. She looks too much like she did on the beach, except that that's not the look that she was giving him. Wary, not awed.

"Kyoya, I'm sorry that everyone was acting like it was the end of the world. I told them to stop being so dramatic, but—You know how they are. It's like arguing with a brick wall."

"This isn't about that." Kyoya waves dismissively to the door, behind which their friends are probably still bawling their eyes out and writing their eulogies. "If it were me, and I had been in pain for five days to the point that I couldn't lift anything, what would you have told me?"

She squirms on the examination chair, which Kyoya takes a very macabre victory. Yeah, that's what I thought… "I would tell you to go see a doctor. Which…is where I am."

"After the fact." Kyoya looks up to the ceiling and runs a hand down his face. "After the fact. You should've been in here before now."

"I would have been, alright? But I promised Minami I would spend the day with her Saturday, and then Hitsuji got sick."

"You could've asked one of us to help, then. I wasn't doing anything yesterday, I could have watched the children while you went to the doctor. That's all beside the fact that when I asked you, twice,if you were okay, you lied, twice, and said you were fine."

"What am I missing here?" Kosuke asks with an edge creeping into her voice. "Why are you so angry?"

"I'm not angry."

"Don't—" Her lips purse. A cork on a bottle. "Kyoya. Don't do that. Just tell me."

Just tell me. Kyoya scoffs, and Kosuke's eyes narrow, steely. The air is getting thicker.

"I'm not angry that I was led to believe that you were on your deathbed; that's not your fault. What I am, admittedly, upset about is that you wouldn't have to be here at all if you cared more about taking care of yourself than just convincing everyone that you are. Including yourself. I'm angry that you keep..."

"Keep what?"

"Saying that you're fine when you're not really fine. We've had this conversation a million times, yet no matter how many times I assure you that you can be honest about needing help, and not have to worry about being annoying, or bothersome, or whatever it is that you think you'll be, you keep lying."

This has spun wildly out of control, Kyoya is aware. It's not fair to her that this tiny thing is the last straw.

He just won't shut up.

Kosuke's head has snaked back, eyes narrowing even more, that very same look she'd given him in the hallway outside their surprise party and in his bedroom at the lodge. Kyoya is unbelievable. "You know, when we were at Rika's party—the one where you passed out—I asked you over and over if you were okay, and you said over and over that you were fine. I don't remember being this angry at you for that."

"I'm not angry, and yes, you were. And this isn't the same thing."

"Why? Because you don't want it to be?"

"Because this is a pattern for you."

"I promise, the next time that I'm thinking about whether I should go to the doctor or not, I'll remind myself that you'll be angry if I don't. Would you like that?"

Now Kyoya buries his face into his hand. He's burning up from the inside out. He can taste smoke on his tongue. "You twisting my words into something they're not is giving me a great sense of déjà vu."

"And I would've hoped that you'd stop scolding me like a five-year-old by now, and yet. Here we are."

"All I'm asking is that you take care of yourself. At least, that you'll consider your health more of a priority than seeing Kung-Fu Knights on opening day."

"It's Karate Knights!"

"My mistake."

"I don't need you to lecture me about priorities. Not when you stumbled half-conscious into a party that you didn't have to go to, just so you could prove that you weren't stumbling around half-conscious. At least all I had to do was walk to the school infirmary—you were taken to a hospital in an ambulance!"

"Don't change the subject just to make a point."

"Calling out your hypocrisy is not 'changing the subject to make a point'!"

What follows is a blaring silence, filled only by their bated breaths. They're hissing, coiled to attack, but neither of them says anything. It's blistering hot the room.

Kyoya walks to the door, because this is pointless, and immature, and not what he wanted to happen the next time he saw her. He considers throwing something back over his shoulder, but he leaves without another word, and Kosuke does not call after him.

He fully intends to storm straight out of the Medical Center so he can get home and stew the rest of the day away, but comes up short just a few steps out of the door.

In the blaze, he'd completely forgotten that there were so many people waiting outside…

…and that the walls were not especially thin.

Judging by the stunned expressions on everyone's faces, and the hear-a-pin-drop silence, they'd all caught quite a bit of that.

Kyoya keeps moving, before anyone can start asking questions, not even a single Are you okay. Outside, the summer feels icy on his skin.

If he needed any more convincing, then here it is. Despite all of that, despite how he's breathing smoke, nothing has changed. He still loves her. But he won't be telling her that, or anything else, for a while.

I'm evil, I know.

Chapter Summary

Kyoya realizes that he's in love with Kosuke, but he has no idea of how to proceed - especially considering their unique circumstances of getting married whether she reciprocates or not. Unlike with Haruhi and Tamaki, he has to consider the possibility of rejection, and how it might affect their relationship. While this is happening, he and Tamaki make plans to go apartment-shopping, with Kosuke unable to join them. Kyoya goes through several very luxurious apartments but realizes he prefers the smallier, homier ones. While viewing one, he asks Tamaki how it was like to realize he was in love with Haruhi. Tamaki responds that it was scary, as he feared what it would be like to lose her, but ultimately he decided it was better than never having her at all. This talk, and some more contemplation, convinces Kyoya to tell Kosuke how he feels. The next school day goes as normal, until Kyoya is told that Kosuke is in the infirmary, to everyone's extreme worry. It turns out that Kosuke simply has a muscle strain, which she'd previously dismissed. This triggers an argument between her and Kyoya, with Kyoya frustrated that she continues to lie about being fine to him even to the detriment of her own health, and Kosuke upset at being scolded - and hypocritically, at that. The two part ways still fuming, putting Kyoya's plans of confessing on hold.