I ths bring you, my new fanfiction.
The M Word
She was in shock, staring in disbelief at the piece of paper in her shaking hand. Bought?!? Bought, directly out from under her--her own company, that which she had built from the ground with her own two hands and silken designs. No! No, no - NO! Ootori!! The Ootori Zaibatsu had no need to take over her company, other than for selfish want and publicity, and yet here was the official letter - a goad in the form of a document!
"No...no. NO!!" Crumpling the letter in one hand, the enraged, red-faced Hitachiin violently swept her arm across the top of her desk, sending papers, portfolios and photos flying everywhere, the chaos and white blindness falling documents provided perfectly mirroring the white-hot rage boiling inside of Hitachiin Yuzuha. "No...no, god dammit. God. Damn! Ootoris!"
She proceeded to tear up the letter, having read it enough times to quote passages, and besides, she was certain a carbon copy would be supplied to her lawyer. Shreds of ragged paper landed scattered atop the rest of her mess. "Stupid-" rip "-damned-" rip "-Ootori-" ripriprip "-Zaibatsu!!"
The last remnants of the document fluttered downward slowly, the spiral process catching Yuzuha's eye. She watched the pieces as they floated down...down...down... And landed on a large black and white print of two beautiful women, both (although the picture didn't show it) with bright red hair. They were gazing at the camera, looking haughty and aloof as all models did, but something in their eyes said 'I have a secret', a trait which very few others that were photographed could retain.
A thought struck Yuzuha, which then lead her to remember a paragraph in that goading, diminutive letter:
Seeing as there are no financial bonds between our families, Hitachiin-san, there is no retrospective purpose for me to forestall my actions in procuring the financial rights and assets associated with your head building...
Slowly, ever so slowly, the Hitachiin head of family moved back to her desk and withdrew a shiny black cell phone (that had somehow managed to escape the chaos) from her drawer and dialed a number she knew well by heart. One ring...two rings..three-
"-eh-eh, stoppit - Hello?"
"Hikaru?" she said calmly, excitement drumming though her veins at the prospect of what she was about to attempt.
"I - uh, ACK! Stoppit, Kaoru! I will kill you! - Oh, yeah? Hi Mom." There was the sound of a scuffle, quiet laughs, a muffled slap and then the thump of a body hitting hardwood (most likely shoved off a bed). "What's up?"
Yuzuha knelt , picking up the photo that had caught her interest. While gazing at those two secretive women, a soft smile etched her own lips, a secretive smile...What pretty children she had...
"Hikaru...Sweetie...Put your brother on."
Ootori Yoshio was, to put it kindly, incredibly entertained at the moment. Hitachiin Yuzuha was seated before him, looking regal despite the fact that the right to her company was at stake and what she was proposing was almost completely ridiculous. However, as heads of major business and social companies, both had learned how to school their features to hide any amusement or discomfort.
Gently, the man placed his fingertips together. "A marriage?" he echoed.
"Exactly. Think of it as a...friendly arrangement between families. To...better our financial relations." She mimicked his hand gesture, voice saying more than her words.
"I didn't know you had a daughter, Hitachiin-san," Yoshio said with raised eyebrows.
"Oh? Well, let me give you a picture..." From the innards of her tan overcoat, Yuzuha withdrew a picture, this one colored and not quite as posed as the black and white shot she now had framed above her desk. "She's the one on the left, next to her brother. Ah, that's my baby..."
Yoshio found himself staring at two young figures, looking near identical expect for the bounteous chest and longer hair the the female had. Indeed, they looked so similar that, for a second, the Ootori was perplexed; wondering if it would do more justice to call the boy feminine or the girl masculine. While he debated this, however, the woman continued to speak.
"Kaoru's six minutes younger than Hikaru, but the two of them are extremely close. I sent them to France when they were little - that's where their father does most of his work - but now that they're of age, my darling children are coming back to study under me, and take over my company eventually. And hopefully get married."
He nodded solemnly before placing the photo on the desk directly between them and surveying the Hitachiin objectively. "How old is your daughter?
"Hm...My youngest is twenty-one. Kyouya." And he turned a silver framed photo around on his desk to face her, displaying a young man that looked an awful lot like Yoshio, but different at the same time (how to put it...Better looking?). "I believe, considering the sizable age gap between our children, any other of mine would be inappropriate - not to forget that all my other offspring are already married - this would be the most appropriate match."
Yuzuha stood, as did Yoshio. They shook hands.
"When can we except them to meet?" she asked.
"Kyouya returns from a business trip to the Americas in thirteen days."
"The twins will be here on the eleventh, on the first." She grinned. "I'm looking forward to this wedding. Hitachiin Corp, of course, will be on the labels."
And he grinned back. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
Yes, I screwed with their ages a bit. I'm taking creative whatever-it's-called-when-you-do-it-because-it's-YOURS, so deal~ XP
Tadah! A new KyouKao fic and this one's going to contain LOADS of crossdressing, sexual slights, pregnancy jokes and chapters! Yes! You heard me, chapters! (Plus a little twincest on the side). Now, I know this isn't much of a chapter in itself, but I figured that I should probably set things up before I jump into my six-sum pre-written chapters of bliss! See?! That's how much I lurve you guys - I try to make it non-confusing! :D Anyway, reviews and love, and they make me want to type faster - MUCH faster. So, leave a review, comment, suggestion and constructive critisim.