A/N: Wow. It's almost been an year, guys. I'm so sorry. But see, I didn't forget about this fic, and it will get completed, I swear. This is a short chapter. Next one is longer. Thanks for bearing with me and for following this! Please review
Disclaimer: Ouran is not mine.
a father to impress
Like a mother's mourning dress
If we ever make a mess
I'll do anything for you
Tamaki has tried to imply in more ways that one that his friendship with any of the ex-host-club-boys, especially Kyouya, will not change no matter how old they get, how many times he gets married—to Haruhi, because there has never been anyone else—or well, ever. He cannot say this aloud of course. Or maybe things have not reached the point where he has felt the need to.
Of course things will change, Kyouya thinks, and Tamaki is still far too naïve to if he cannot understand that. With marriage and adulthood comes a new life, doesn't Tamaki know? Or maybe all Tamaki understands is the fact that change is pending but not how imminent it truly is.
Still, along with change will come loss in certain respects and status quo in others.
Kyouya has been thinking of the loss a lot more as of late.
The old Tamaki is changing and Kyouya feels it first. The fair, smooth forehead is already showing shadows of where lines will appear and the blond hair does not have the same sparkle as it did when the boy was a teenager. Of course, this is inevitable. The King will finally have to face more than the unwavering love of his admirers. Now there is an empire at stake and not every man in his court will bend at his will. Not like Kyouya had done.
Why he is thinking of all of this in conjunction with Tamaki's wedding, he does not quite know.
Perhaps I have spoiled you.
If it were up to Kyouya, he would spoil him forever, even as he would roll his eyes in the process because one day, he knows, this golden ball of sunshine will grow jaded, under board meetings and business suits and clients to impress and his forefathers' shadows. And that will be the day that Kyouya's own world will shatter.
Among the things he will miss the most, thinks Kyouya, is Tamaki's love for anything remotely beautiful—a highly indiscriminate feeling as the boy—no, man, man, man!—had found anything and everything beautiful.
That day is still far away. It is weak consolation but it is something as he watches the boy—man!—with a slight smile as said 'man' bounces with glee at Ranka-san's flower arrangements.