Chapter 24

"Trouble in paradise?" one of the Twins snickered at the scowl the Shadow King wore for the entire meal. Kyouya had not heard a single word spoken during the entire brunch as he begrudgingly showed up after Tamaki had blown up his phone only an hour ago. He silently tossed back the mimosa, wishing it had been whisky instead.

"Oh, don't look like that, mon ami," Tamaki frowned. "Tell us! We can fix it! You deserve true love."

That fuck and his whimsical fantasies about love made the Ootori roll his eyes as he stabbed at his salad.

"What's wrong?" the French man pleaded for some answers. "Is she mad at you?"

He was mad at her. Why was that the assumption that people always make? Was he not allowed to be mad at the woman for stringing him along like this? For months? She knew exactly what she was doing.

"Maybe he's having trouble in the bedroom," Kaoru teased, trying to lighten up the mood. "Listen, we've got plenty of tricks up our sleeve to please anyone—"

"Shut up," Kyouya snapped. He did not want to think about how she had left him with the image of her on her knees, her mouth full of him with her lipstick trailing his inner thigh. It was a week ago by now. And still, his brain could not think straight when the blood rushed down his body instead. It was not helpful by any means. And besides, he was supposed to be mad at her.

"Ooouf," Hikaru backed off. "Defensive, aren't we?" The Twins cackled. "Must be it then."

Honey frowned at the sight of their dear friend who had a dark cloud over his head. The entire table had seen the way he had quietly trudged his way to the table. Kyouya arrived late and moody, or at least moodier than usual. He usually nodded at Mori in their usual silent exchange but even then, he sat down without even looking up at his friend.

"Is Kiyoko-chan okay?" Honey casually asked.
Kyouya perched up his glasses. "Why wouldn't she be?" he answered coolly. She was fine, she always would be.

Haruhi shifted in her seat and put down the cutlery. "We thought she would come." The rest of the table looked pointedly at the empty seat across from the Ootori. There was an eighth chair and plate setting left for their expected guest. They quite enjoyed her banter, especially back in France. She fit in so wonderfully with the rest of them.

"She's busy," the Ootori brushed off. She was always so goddamn busy, running around doing god knows what.
"So," Tamaki nudged his friend. "Where is she?"
"None of your business," he coldly responded.

And that was that.

His friends moved onto another topic, something about Honey's pastry business and then the Twins had some sort of story about their vacation in Fiji the other week. Mori nodded and silently grunted when asked about his work. Haruhi updated the crowd on the law firm she had been working at. Over an hour had passed and as usual, Mori was the first to silently stand to bare his farewells. Honey followed him as they were still attached at the hip. The Twins ran off for some sort of shopping spree. Kyouya stood up and began walking himself out of the Suoh mansion, now newly renovated after the lovebirds had finally made themselves at home.

"Hey," Tamaki latched onto his arm while Haruhi went ahead to help with the clean-up. "Let's talk. What happened with Kiyoko? I thought you two were coming as a pair."

"Nothing," Kyouya growled, shoving his arm away as he made his way closer towards the door. These fucking Suohs and their long hallways. They really were made of money. "Nothing happened," he insisted.

The Suoh narrowed his eyes. "You were so happy in France though. What changed?"

"She changed," the Ootori growled. She was changing her mind all the fucking time. It wasn't his fault that they were the way that they were. Broken. He had done enough and tried his best. She wasn't giving in and he wasn't about to bend backwards yet again, racking his brain over nothing.

"Why?"
"I don't know." If he did, he would have figured out what to do to somehow fix this… rift. This disconnect. "I don't know what she wants." Or what she is thinking. Or what she is feeling.

"I'm sure all she really wants is you," Tamaki answered simply. "That is what love is, after all."
"Easy for you to say," Kyouya scoffed. This man married his high school sweetheart. And they literally are living happily ever after.
"So… are you two broken up?" There was no other way to ask around it.
"I guess," the Ootori muttered.

"Oh no," Tamaki gasped. "No! She was in love with you. How could she not be? I saw it in her eyes! Those eyes don't lie, mon ami. They were truly windows to her kind soul."
"Whatever," he grumbled. Those eyes were truly something, he thought. He tried not to dwell on them for any longer. "I wouldn't describe them as kind." Not after she claimed to be a monster.

"She'll come back to you," Tamaki insisted. "I know it."
"Whatever," he repeated again.

"Just give her some time. She'll realize that you're the only one for her," the Suoh was optimistic. "There was nothing like what you had at our wedding, Kyouya. You looked at her like she hung the moon and she looked to you like you were the sun. It was beautiful! I witnessed it myse—"
"She doesn't want me," Kyouya growled. "She doesn't want to see me again."

"Oh," Tamaki faltered. "What have you done?" he asked, disappointed in his friend.
"Nothing! Nothing was my fault," the Ootori insisted. "She is fucking indecipherable."

His friend nodded slowly. "I suppose she can be hard to read," Tamaki agreed. "But you can be impatient, Kyouya."

"I have been patient enough," the Ootori crossed his arms. He had played this game enough with her. What was there to believe in this back and forth? One moment he was buried in her neck and their limbs were entangled and suddenly, he was cut off from her. She called all of it stupid. And then there were no texts, no calls, nothing. No follow-up. How was he made to expect anything more from her? She gave him crumbs that he savoured every bit of the way.

"Why are you mad at her?" Tamaki murmured.
"Why wouldn't I be? She called us stupid. A waste of time. What am I supposed to do with her?" Kyouya vented. "She's out here screwing with my fucking head like the psychopath she is."

The Suoh sighed. "I believe what I saw under the moonlight many months ago. Why would she just give up?"

"I don't fucking know!" Kyouya huffed. "Fuck," he growled. He hated this feeling. This gnawing feeling that grew in his chest. Did he miss her? Or was he mad at her? Did he hate her? Or was he just incredibly hurt by the loss of her?

I said I would hurt you, didn't I?

She damn well did. And he hated himself for it. How could he let himself be so fucking pathetic?

"If you're this sad—"
"I'm mad," Kyouya corrected. He was not sad. He was angry. Frustrated. Fuming at the thought of her.
"She must be too," Tamaki finished. "If not more sad than you are."

The Ootori scoffed at the thought. "I doubt it." I'm the monster I always warned you about, her voice echoed.
"Don't give up on her," Tamaki encouraged softly. "I'm sure there is an explanation for all of this—"
"She won't tell me shit, Tamaki. It is impossible to get into her head."

The Suoh blinked. "Why do we have to get into her head? She'll tell you when she is ready."
"As if," Kyouya scoffed while shaking his head. "That approach has not worked with her."

Tamaki disagreed. "Well then – perhaps we shall wait."
"Waiting is silly," Kyouya dismissed.
"Then move on," Tamaki shrugged. It was as simple as that. "If she wasn't worth it, then consider this a blessing, mon ami."

Kyouya huffed. His friend made actual sense for once. Move on, he thought. Sure, he could move on. She said it herself, she was no longer useful to him. She was a distraction. He could do this without her.

"Stop it," he swatted his sister's hand away from the books that stacked up. They were ordered online and shipped after a handful of weeks of waiting.

"But why?" she whined. "I just want to see what you're reading!" Kiyoko frowned. They were like children while they were together, never having grown up to become the adults that they expected to be.

"You're here a lot lately," the brother grumbled. Haru now missed the quiet rustling of their hired help. Kiyoko was so loud and annoying. She cooked in the kitchen with her pots and pans, the sink was always running, the chopping of her knife echoed through the house. She took calls in the living room as she clacked on the keyboard of her laptop. Kiyoko was always pestering him and asking him what he was up to like a little sister would. She was curious at everything he did.

"Why?" he asked. Why are you here? He meant.
"You don't want me here?" she pouted, knowing exactly what he had said. "I'm lonely."
"You're sad," Haru corrected monotonously.

Admittedly, she had been around more often every couple of days as she let Nami take care of the business. Slowly, she was training her to take more responsibility over the past few months, beyond just the client relations. Nami had welcomed the change of pace and began understanding the inner workings of what really made each exhibit a success. She was young, eager, and bright – an excellent combination. Not to mention, the fiscal boost was a great motivator for the young woman.

"I'm not… sad," Kiyoko bluffed. "I've missed hanging out with you." It wasn't a lie. She missed her brother. She was rather guilty for not visiting as often over the past few months having been… occupied with something. Someone.

Haru was not convinced. "I'm fine without you," he answered bluntly. He had always preferred his own company after all. He functioned on his own with his cottage in the woods, venturing out to the city with their hired helpers only on the occasion. But most of his days were spent creating something or distracted by reading obsessively over one topic that caught his attention.

"But Haru," she dragged out his nickname. "I want to go out!"
"No."
"Let's go hiking. We can even catch the sunset on the mountain if we leave soon."

Haru growled. "No," he had enough of putting up with his little sister. She was always up to something. Wanting to do this or that. He just didn't feel like it. "No, no, no." Kiyoko could feel an oncoming tantrum.

"Haru," his sister crossed her arms. "You can't spend every day cooped up in here." She was not afraid of his outbursts. They became rarer as he grew older but he never really got over the ability to socialize with anyone besides those he saw on a regular basis. Haru could fall into these emotional blocks of anger and frustration by shutting down and not speaking.

"No!" he stubbornly disagreed.

"It'll be fun," she tried again. "And we can come back and grab food from the conbini!" Just like they always did. There was always something so satisfying about eating a curry-filled bun after a long day at a convenience store. Or maybe fried chicken. They hadn't had that in a long time. Maybe they would even have enough room in their stomachs for some sandos and bento boxes later. Kiyoko thought of the snacks they could buy for the movies they could watch too. It saved her the trouble of cooking.

Haru huffed and shook his head, refusing to listen. Kiyoko too, grew annoyed and gave up when she could tell there was no getting through to him. The brother turned away and ventured into his studio to continue working on his painting. Kiyoko sat on the couch staring at the ceiling, angry at first at how even her own brother did not want to spend time with her. Loneliness crept in place of the simmering anger and she eventually drifted into a sleep for the first time in what felt like days.

Haru shook her awake by the shoulder. The kitchen light was on dimly, and the entire cottage had cooled in temperature after the sun had gone down. Kiyoko suddenly shivered at the realization that she had fallen asleep in a thin sweater that was not made for the cool autumn at higher altitudes.

"I'm hungry," he announced, as if their spat had never occurred. Just like that, they had always made up. There was no need for apologies, never a second thought about forgiveness. Kiyoko groggily looked out the window and sighed. How long was she out for? She wondered.

"Conbini?" she croaked as she gathered enough strength to get up from the couch. When did she grow so weak? Maybe it was because she hadn't eaten much except coffee and some fruit in the morning. She steadied herself as she sat up.
"Conbini," he agreed as he went to grab his jacket. Haru did not like going out into public. There were too many noises, too many lights, and far too many people. It made his brain go haywire. But he was hungry after hunching over his painting for hours and his sister wanted to go out. They could compromise.

The pair headed out to Kiyoko's car with Haru slipping into his usual passenger seat.

"Someone sat here," he noted immediately. The seat was not in the same position that it usually was. Haru was immediately miffed by this observation.

Kiyoko refused to acknowledge that it was indeed true and turned on the car, letting the engine rev to life as they made their fifteen minute trek to civilization. She drove in silence and did not explain who it was, repressing the thought of him at the back of her mind the best that she could.

"Was it that boy?" The boy you have been seeing instead of me, was all Kiyoko heard as the lingering after thought.

Kiyoko flinched. It was so odd calling him something so juvenile. It did not suit the Ootori. She did not recall ever explicitly telling Haru about him, if at all. But the guilt settled deeper into her stomach as she continued to drive along the pitch dark rural roads.

"Is that why you are sad?" Haru asked.
"No," Kiyoko was quick to deny. No, it wasn't him. She did this to herself.
"If you're lonely, you should have a family."
"What?" the sister blinked.
"A better one," Haru added. They both knew what he meant by that. Nothing like what they had as children.
"I need a partner for that," Kiyoko reminded. "I don't have that sort of thing."
"He sat here," Haru asserted. "With you."

She didn't want to think about that. The way he angrily left her car and slammed the door on her. Kiyoko very much deserved all his anger. "I wouldn't ever leave you, Haru," she told him. "You're family. My only family," Kiyoko reminded herself of what was important. No more distractions, she thought to herself.

"He sat here," Haru repeated, ignoring the way Kiyoko had swiftly changed the topic. "Was he nice?"
"Very much so," Kiyoko softly answered. "Maybe too nice."
"No one is ever nice to us."

Perhaps that was true. Haru felt the ostracization early in his childhood, unable to stay in preschool longer than a couple of hours, especially as he refused to communicate in traditional methods. He never went to a regular school and had private tutors and aides that specialized with kids on the spectrum. They paid a fortune for the child, despite him never being seen by the public. Haru was afforded an education only money could buy.

"Haru," Kiyoko murmured. "Do you remember that… night?" She had always wanted to ask.
"What night?"
"The scar on your hand."

Haru looked down at his right palm. A steak knife that he forcibly took out of his mother's hands because she had an episode of absolute manic. The siblings never talked about it, not ever. But the memory had been imprinted permanently in their minds. Kiyoko remembered watching the blood seep down her brother's hands, the wailing of their mother's screams when she realized what had happened, and the look on her face when she shouted at Kiyoko. She must have been no older than 5.

I want her dead.

"Did you know?" The question had been on her mind for weeks. "Why she wanted me dead?"
"Yes," Haru answered after a moment of hesitation. He too, had to dig through his memories to recall the exact reason. This happened over two decades ago but the memory was still fresh as soon as he was reminded of it.
"Why?" All these years she had been to afraid to ask.
"You were a mistake."
"A mistake?" Kiyoko repeated. "How dramatic to want to erase a mistake."
"Our father's mistake."

Kiyoko bit her lip and nodded. "I figured as much. I was a threat to your inheritance. I erased you on the family tree with my entire existence." Their father married their supposed mother well after a year of Haru's birth. For a long time, the family resisted the man's entrance into the HIbayashi clan. But alas, eventually they relented at the stubbornness of their mother who loved him to the ends of earth, only to be betrayed by him a handful of years later.

Haru shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I have money now." It worked out. Haru did not care for the family politics. He had better things to do.
"Yes, you're very welcome," Kiyoko rolled her eyes. "Some gratitude would be nice, Haru."

"Thank you," he responded robotically, as he was taught to.

The siblings climbed out of the vehicle after Kiyoko had pulled to a stop and carried on with their errand as they usually would. Haru shielded his eyes from the bright lights of the convenience store, already uncomfortable by the sudden trigger. Kiyoko promised that it would be a quick trip, already gathering most of what she had mentally put together as a list.

The two ripped open the packaging to their respective meals on the way to the car, finishing off their well-deserved convenience dinner. Their bags were still filled with more snacks to consume on the way home. It was a simple joy they both shared.

"She really did hate me, huh?" Kiyoko mumbled after her last mouthful of soft bread, still thinking about it.
"For what?" Haru was working through his second onigiri, now more comfortable in the dark and with the car seat adjusted to the usual position that he always had it in.
"Enough to want me dead?"
"But she's dead now," the brother shrugged after catching onto the fact that they were speaking about their mother.

Kiyoko blinked. Leave it to Haru to be so nonchalant about their family history. "Don't you miss her?"
"Not really," her brother admitted. "I miss Kaeda-san's chicken curry."

The sister laughed. Kaeda-san was the head of the housekeepers. "I do too," Kiyoko answered while she opened up a plastic bottle of milk tea. "But I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For the way that we are," Kiyoko sighed. "No one will ever understand."

The brother shook his head. "You think too much, Kiki."
"Maybe," she shrugged. "Let's go home, yeah? We'll watch a movie with the snacks."

"Yes," Haru agreed contentedly.

It was just them against the world and that feeling was the last thing she could remember.

"She won't ever recover from this."

She fell in and out of consciousness, eyes heavy and her head floated between being crushed between a boulder and feeling light with the clouds.

"We can't tell her."
"We'll have to."

How long was she in this state of nothing? She couldn't feel anything: her fingers, her legs, her entire body was detached to the words that floated through her ears.

"Will she be alright?"
"In a few weeks. We'll keep her under observation."

Was it a dream? Colours of the sunset that faded to white. And then darkness again. A state of heaviness. Kiyoko couldn't feel anything. She couldn't form a single coherent thought or feel anything but the weight of an elephant over her entire body.

"She'll be devastated."
"She has to know."
"The papers were signed hours ago."
"Perhaps he'll pull through, we'll never know."

Incessant beeping. Shuffling of bodies. Maybe it was it her own body being moved? Her eyes couldn't bear to open at the brightness glaring at her and when she tried to breathe, her throat constricted. Shit. Shit. Shit. She couldn't breathe. The panic set in quickly, her limbs electrocuted to consciousness.

It was a violent awakening even though she could hardly shift an inch. She was trapped. It hurt to breathe with the tube in her mouth. The ceiling was white and sterile. The beeping got faster. Fuck, what was that sound? The panic set in again. Panic. Confusion. Pain. All at once.

A stranger peered over her with scrubs and a surgical mask. Her eyes darted back and forth, unable to say a word with air being mechanically pumped through her larynx. The realization that she was in a hospital had dawned upon her while they removed the tubing. Her jaw stiff and sore, in addition to the rest of her whole face that felt dry under the sterile cold air.

"Oh thank goodness," a voice gasped in relief. Who was that? Kiyoko could not breathe more than a few shallow breaths at a time without pain. She could hardly muster up the energy to speak.

"Consciousness is good," she heard. Murmurings followed. There was no memory of it after. She must have been put back to sleep. A shot of morphine… something that made her feel like she was heavy with dread.

It was the fucking beeping noise that brought her back to life again. Her neck was too stiff to turn her head. This was a hospital. Or was it? This was a nightmare in itself, trapped in her own consciousness without being able to lift a finger without agony. Breathing was hard. Her whole body ached. Kiyoko wondered if this was a special hell reserved just for her.

How long had it been? What day was it? What happened? Her brain was only drawing blanks. She could remember her name. She could remember her birthdate. She could remember all digits of the 6 bank accounts she owned. Her net worth to the cent. Fuck, what happened? How did she end up here? This was a dream, it had to be. A really fucked up dream.

"You're awake again," they said.

Kiyoko could only blink. Her body could not move. Her neck was a in a brace, her entire torso ached every time she breathed. Her limbs felt numb. The bed suddenly began shifting up to see the crowd of two nurses and a doctor. A cup of water was gingerly lifted to her lips, her head tilted back so the liquid could flow down her dry throat. She was parched.

"You're in the hospital," they explained. "You've broken some ribs. Your wrist is sprained. You might experience some concussion and whiplash symptoms. You'll need rest."

Yes, I can see that. Kiyoko would have snapped back if she had the voice to.

"Do you remember what happened?"

She opened her mouth to speak but no words could come out. She could hardly breathe, after all. Kiyoko couldn't even shake her head.

"Blink once for yes, twice for no," the doctor tried again.

She blinked twice.

"You were in a car accident. A truck hit you at an intersection at the outskirts of Kōfu. The damage was quite severe to your car – it's a miracle you survived, really. Do you recall any of this?"

The EKG began picking up its pace in the rhythm. Fuck that goddamn machine. It was an absolute embarrassment. Truthfully, Kiyoko did not recall anything. Her mind was foggy with drugs, her body ached with a dull throb in her muscles. What happened? She wanted to scream.

"We'll let you rest."

Kiyoko was put back to sleep. This haze grew into a dense fog of pitch black and suddenly the sunlight invaded her eyelids again. Sleep did not feel like sleep, it felt like a prison. Consciousness felt like a cycle of pain and confusion.

"You're awake again," she could hear the voice of Kaeda-san but could not see her. Her hospital bed was lifted, so she could sit upright to see the crowd of the women she recognized.

Kaeda-san had come here with two other housekeepers. Toda-san and Maoru-san bowed their heads out of respect. Goodness, was there really a need for such a gesture when she was literally on bed rest? These three women had raised her from childhood and were here at her bedside.

Fingers combed through her long hair by the crown of her head, the tender touch from a mother that she was never able to have. This was all she was able to get throughout childhood, hired help in place of a real mother to both her and Haru.

"We need to put some meat on your bones," she urged. "Drink some of this. I brewed it earlier this morning."

Kiyoko had no choice but to open her mouth with her lips cracking from the dryness of the hospital room. The three middle-aged women tended to the girl as if she were a child again, brushing through her hair and massaging her palms to introduce circulation back into her limbs. Her nails were cut away into a sensible short bed by Toda-san. They were no longer in the clawed almond shape she had worked so hard to maintain but at least they were well-moisturized now.

"You're so skinny," Toda-san frowned as she dug into the girl's bones. Kiyoko wanted to wince at the pressure but could only furrow her brows at the sudden pain. "We fed you better than that while you lived at home. You should come back, you know."

Maoru-san shook her head in disappointment. "You hardly even eat! What could be more important than eating? Haven't we taught you this?"

Kiyoko wished she could have responded but all she could do was sit and listen to these women jabber on about each other's lives. She had no idea what time it was, or how long these three women kept each other occupied. They argued over the best ways to cook certain dishes. The best places to buy groceries. The most recent sales at the department stores. They gushed over their own grown children.

When Kiyoko had been hydrated enough from the teas, the broths, and herbal remedies that all three women forcibly fed to the girl for recovery, she still had trouble making enough noise for a syllable.

"Ha…" Kiyoko croaked. "Ha…" It sounded like she was gasping for breath instead of the first syllable of her brother's name. "Ha…"

"Shh," Kaeda-san shushed soothingly. It reminded Kiyoko of when she used to cry as a child. How all three of these women would settle her down with a gentle petting of her hair, a reassuring rub to her shoulder, and her hand that was held by another. She was being comforted by all three of these middle-aged women.

"Haru," Kiyoko took all of her strength to say his name.

The only sound that could be heard was the beeping of the EKG. Everyone's mouths were sealed shut and their eyes averted their gaze to something other than Kiyoko's pleading glare. The grip on her hand grew tighter. Kiyoko could see it in all of their eyes. Something had happened. All of the hydration they had worked so hard to retain all day had fallen out of the tears from Kiyoko's eyes.

Hands began wiping away her silent cries. Her heart beat faster in another bout of terror. She could hear the rustling of feet again, the sliding of the hospital room door. A nurse? A doctor? They must have caught onto her irregular heart rate. Her breathing began to shallow. Wait, she wanted to scream.

Tell me what happened. Don't let me sink again. Don't put me back into the darkness.

Her body still ached. Getting up was not an option. Her eyes could hardly stay open. What day was it? What time was it? She could see light reflecting off the ceiling. It was daylight. Her eyes darted around again.

"Oi," the gruff voice greeted. "Thought you'd come around eventually. They say you can't do much talkin'."

Her bed was raised so she could sit up to face the visitor. Toshio-san looked the same as ever, only he was off-duty and not in his usual chauffeur suit. He dressed in an oversized army green jacket and a cap that hid his balding head.

"Well don't look at me like that," the man grumbled when looked at her face. Kiyoko could hardly keep her eyes open, not while they were so swollen. Her default state was a piercing cold scowl. "What did I ever do to you?"

She could growl, at least. That was new. It still hurt to breathe. Now a migraine had set into the bottom half of her head, piercing into the stem of her neck and shoulders. Fuck, she wanted to draw out.

"Fff…" was all she could make out instead. Fffuh… she couldn't even get the next phonetic out.

"Fuck?" Toshio howled in amusement. "That's your first word you're going to say when you wake up? You really are somethin' kid. Listen, the ladies up at the estate told me to feed you all of this shit. Do you know what this is? Some kind of weird dark brown stuff that smells like grass?"

She made a noise of disgust. She remembered the taste of it. The rest of her body might have been an absolute wreck but her tastebuds were still intact.

Toshio-san slowly spoon fed the herb concoction into her mouth like she was an infant. God. She hated this so much. How embarrassing was this?

"I remember when you were a little baby. Things just don't change, do they?" he chuckled to himself. "Toda-san told me that you had to fatten up. What do you think is in this? It looks fuckin' gross."

Kiyoko could do nothing but groan after the bowl was finished. She tried turning her head to shake her head no but couldn't quite do so without a sharp pain shooting into her shoulders. Toshio began opening up the next bowl of ginseng soup from the thermos but not before Kiyoko could try again.

"Ha…" She hated her body for betraying her. How much it struggled to say two whole syllables. "Ha…ru," Kiyoko gritted out the best she could.

She noted the way his expression fell. It kept happening. The way her body fell into a panic without her even trying. When she tried to breathe calmly, her entire chest seized in pain. Her heart worked harder to keep up with her shallow breaths.

"Easy…." Toshio-san calmly put a hand over her shoulder. "Easy there, Kiyoko. He's... in the other room, okay? Let's try for another bowl or Maoru-san will have my balls."

She blinked. He's not dead. Okay. Okay, that's good right? Toshio-san's expression seemed to ease in worry when she accepted his answer.

"This stuff smells better, doesn't it? Gotta work your way up to the good stuff. You have to grow to be healthy and strong again, Kiyoko."

Toshio-san went on to talk about his wife. He loved her dearly and doted on her every day. He showed her pictures of the vacation they had taken up north to see Mount Yotei in Hokkaido. He talked about his youth, his love of skiing, his hobby of fixing up old cars… Kiyoko spent the day listening to the old man talk and talk until he grew tired of himself.

"Ha...ru," Kiyoko whispered during a moment of silence. "Haru."

Toshio-san sighed. "It was a real gnarly crash, kid. Your car is absolutely totalled. The driver got away somehow and it's a real shitshow, Kiyoko. It wasn't your fault."

Tears overflowed again. Why was her body betraying her like this? She didn't mean to cry, to have her eyes well in tsunami tides. She was so awfully weak in every way possible. She hated this feeling of helplessness.

"Hey," Toshio-san gently wiped her cheek with his calloused thumb scratching against her skin. "Oi, it's alright. No need to cry. You did nothing wrong."

But something surely felt wrong.

Walkthroughs of his family hospitals were not new. They were organized on a bi-annual basis touring around their own facilities every so often to ensure that quality care was delivered on every account. It made it easier for his brothers to do it as they were doctors who toured their own workplace but Kyouya had a different perspective to it all, coming strictly from management. And of course, he was also given the hospitals that were further out from the cities. This one just happened to land in the middle of the forest beside the damn mountain.

As a result, the VIP wards were hardly ever filled. In fact, this ward was completely empty. The hospital size was smaller. The selling point was that it was quaint and near nature for utmost relaxation and recovery. For fuck's sake, this was in the middle of nowhere. He was given the smaller hospitals because it was clear that the company did not think he was able to manage anything greater.

"Uh, sir," a man cleared his throat. One of the hospital directors nervously directed him off the elevator to a floor that was lower than intended. "There is a bit of a commotion upstairs. We were hoping to get that sorted before you arrived."
"Commotion?" the Ootori raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's even more reason to see how the hospital manages it, no?"
"Erm, well. It's a delicate situation. The patient… needs to be sedated," he explained. "It's a rather difficult time, you see. They—"

Kyouya hopped on the next elevator and left the babbling man to it. If there was a commotion, there was no better way to see how their hospitals managed the action. The elevator dinged to a near empty floor. The reception desk was cleared out – usually there were nurses that manned the station and greeted any visitors.

"No! No! No!" a voice wailed. "How could you?"

There was nothing quite like the sound of this cry: it both terrified you to the core of your bones and made your heart ache. It was between a sob and a shriek. A woman's voice. "You said he was alive!" she sobbed in agony. "You lied to me for weeks like an idiot. Until I could finally fucking walk to see for myself."

Kyouya peered into the room of screaming. A whole crowd of nurses were gently trying to pry the patient off from the floor who hung onto the railing of the bed. The hospital bed was empty – in fact it looked like it was freshly made and unused. Some other civilians crowded around and tried their best to soothe the patient. Their long hair had reached the waist, unbrushed for what seemed like forever. Their feet were bare and legs so skinny, they hardly looked like they were nourished. Her skin was so pale, she looked (and sounded) like the banshee from afar. She wailed on and on.

"You have to understand…"
"What is there to understand? He is dead. I killed him!"
"No, you didn't kill—"

The nurses were finally able to restrain the woman, lifting an arm out for the doctor to administer the propofol.

"No! Not the drugs. No! Not again, please. Please, please, please," she begged, weakly trying to thrash out of the grip of the nurses. She hardly had enough energy to put up a fight after walking down the hall. "Stop putting me under," she cried. "Stop drugging me to calm down. I'm so tired. Please… not again. I can't…"

They held her down and injected the sedative into her veins. She fell over near immediately, toppling to the ground while the nurses propped the limp body onto the unused hospital bed. The doctor stepped out of the room, immediately recognizing the Ootori who had witnessed the entire event.

"Ootori-san," the doctor greeted with a bow. "Sorry, you had to see that… uh, it happens… patients get emotional over a large loss, sometimes."

The hospital director jogged down the hall to escort the Ootori around the rest of the tour, anxious about the sudden detour that the man had taken and deathly afraid of what he had witnessed. The journey ended back in the lobby, hitting all of the highlights of the hospital as intended.

Kyouya's mind wandered elsewhere, still thinking about the woman who had screamed in such anguish. Please, please, please. Why did that patient sound so familiar? How crazy to have her voice show up in the middle of nowhere at his hospital. He was going insane – much like that patient who had a mental breakdown.

I just want you. Please, please, please, she said to him. He could still feel the way her lips felt against his jaw, her naked body pressed up right against his chest, the hot water that their bodies drowned in that night. And then she just fucking left him the next day.

He shook off the thought. He did not think of her as often, and when he did, he forced himself to think of the Ootori Corporation instead. Move on, said Tamaki. And for once, Tamaki was right. He needed to move on. Focus. He did not need her. He never did.

The smell of cigarette smoke wafted over to him as he walked over to his Mercedes. Fuck, he hated how everything seemed to remind him of her today. The image of her blowing smoke off the ledge of the back alley with her red lipstick. Even the old man in his baseball cap looked like the Hibayashi's chauffeur who was smoking at the designated area. How fucking ridiculous was his mind? It made no sense for the Hibayashi to even show up at a place like this.

Kyouya crawled into his car in a foul mood and could not wait to fucking leave the mountains for the city. This place was far from quaint and relaxing. It felt like a nightmare.