a/n: So, this fic was originally intended to be a oneshot. But I couldn't seem to get it into one document. So it's eight rather short parts all linked together. I'll post them rather quickly as they are short.
Well, this is dedicated to The Sorrowful Vampress. It's a birthday fic meant to be given in October but I'm notorious for procrastinating so I've only gotten started on it now. I hope she forgives me.
Also, just for the record, this pairing was hella hard to write. *laughs*
Warning for eventual boykisses, language, possible spoilers, and that I've only ever seen the anime.
Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club or it's characters. That honor belongs to Bisco Hatori, not I. Nor have I made any money from writing this story.
An Overlap of Coincidence
Kyouya had a problem. Someone was watching him. It was in the switch of his stomach. The chill up his spine. The sensation of eyes following him everywhere.
Kyouya had an admirer. Or a stalker. Perhaps both.
Kyouya had gifts. Received gifts. Ones that appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Ones without a name attached and no discernable giver.
Kyouya was deeply suspicious. It didn't help that snickering amongst the more boisterous members of the Host Club was too numerous to pin down any single perpetrator. And for the wealth that permeated the visitors and members of the Host Club, the gifts were surprisingly inexpensive but insightful.
He, at first, assumed them to be from his various fans amongst the females of their school. That would be the logical course of thought. However, the gifts appeared in places that only Host Club members had access. So unless one of them was willingly aiding a fan that narrowed down his of suspects significantly. However, Kyouya could just as easily dismiss his fellow Host Club members as well.
Subtle had never been Tamaki's forte. He preferred loud and ostentatious and usually… well, wrong. Ideas he thought were perfect but never suited the recipient.
The twins were more inclined to offer gags and tricks.
Haruhi was too straightforward. If she had a taste for him, Kyouya had the feeling she would just come out and say it. Besides, despite the gifts being inexpensive, they were still beyond her monetary means.
Mori-senpai was much the same. He would be subtle, but he would also be direct. Giving secrets gifts in a sneaky fashion wasn't his style at all. Besides, he had more important matters in caring for Honey-senpai. A task all in itself.
In the end, Kyouya had no suspects. And that in itself was alarming.
He was used to knowing everything. Or if he didn't know, he had a method to find out. A means to the madness. Instead, the gifts continued unabated with no clue as to their purpose or their giver. Leaving him flummoxed, annoyed, and oddly... pleased?
Kyouya tapped his pen against his clipboard, eyes falling to the simple writing implement and the elegant markings that curled up the side. It was one of the aforementioned presents and was of a certain style that flowed perfectly and always glided across the page. Kyouya couldn't ever remember outwardly displaying his favoritism towards this difficult to find brand, but someone had noticed. And someone had remembered.
Scanning his list, Kyouya returned his eyes to the shelves in front of him, a quick snap of his wrist marking one item off. He searched for the next and then the next. The mindless task allowed his mind to wander, even as he made accurate notes in the margin for the supplies the club would be needing in the future.
Funds were running low once more. It was time for another photobook to be released. Perhaps a duet this time? Something unusual. Haruhi and Mori-senpai? The twins and Honey-senpai? That would certainly surprise the women.
Kyouya's pen paused at the next item on his list, one that required an accurate count. He tapped the word and lifted his eyes to the shelves, looking up and up until he found the proper box. On the top shelf, out of his reach. Of course it would be.
Lips twisting into an annoyed scowl, Kyouya rose up on his toes. His fingers brushed the outer edge of the box. Whose bright idea was it to put stock on the topmost shelves anyway? The only one who could possibly reach that was--
A hand reached past him and grasped the box with little effort. It brushed against Kyouya in the process, overwhelming him with the sharp scent of something woodsy and wild as well as subtly sweet. Kyouya didn't have to look to identify the person, but he did anyway. Withdrawing his hand and watching as Mori-senpai brought the item down for him.
The stoic teen's face betrayed nothing as Kyouya reached for it. "Thank you," Kyouya said because all favors required a proper response.
"Probably shouldn't use that shelf," Mori-senpai rumbled and watched Kyouya with a peculiar gleam in his grey eyes.
Kyouya had already made a mental note of that. How peculiar for Mori-senpai to point it out. And further, for him to have appeared right in Kyouya's moment of need. Without Kyouya having to ask – something he loathed to do – for help.
He turned away and set the box on a lower shelf, peeling off the lid to count the contents. Fully aware of Mori-senpai's lingering presence, his height shadowing some of the light in the supply closet and making the room seem much smaller.
"Has everyone already left?" Kyouya asked. If only because Mori-senpai was still standing there which meant he probably had a reason and Kyouya, in the interest of all things factual and possibly blackmail-worthy, was curious as to what it might be.
Mori-senpai folded his arms over his chest. His head tilted to the side in that usual manner of his.
A perfectly succinct answer. Never a word wasted.
Except for Honey-senpai, Kyouya assumed. He couldn't think of a single day in his acquaintance with the two cousins where they hadn't left school together.
"Waiting for Honey-senpai?" He didn't even turn to look at the other teen.
"Mitsukuni has a meeting."
Kyouya marked the number of items in the box – a paltry half-dozen – and closed the lid. He stored it on a shelf closer to his own reach. He glanced at the highest shelf, wondering if perhaps Mori-senpai was lingering because he had nothing to do but wait. Of all the club members, Mori-senpai had always been the hardest for him to accurately pin and label. Just when he thought he had the older teen carefully notated, Mori-senpai would do something to surprise him. And it was hard to read someone who held himself in such careful control. Except of course, for when Honey-senpai was concerned.
Still, Kyouya wondered if there was anything – or anyone – else that could make Mori-senpai lose his ever-present calm.
"I have to check those boxes, too," Kyouya said offhandedly, pretending to be fully focused on the list in front of him that was nearly completed.
It wasn't exactly a request for help or a demand that Mori-senpai provide assistance, but the older teen understood anyway. Kyouya couldn't help the small smile that curved his lips as Mori-senpai reached up and lowered the five or six boxes to an empty shelf.
Counting continued in a comfortable silence, one that Kyouya rather liked. He enjoyed this quiet moments after the club had closed for the day. When the hustle and bustle ended and he could focus on all the important administrative duties that were above and beyond Tamaki-the-dreamer's focus. Facts and figures, charts and graphs, they were the easiest for Kyouya to understand.
He felt Mori-senpai's stare more than he saw it. And when Kyouya looked, he found those solid grey eyes focused on his pen. Considering that it wasn't entirely unique – black with silver etching – Kyouya found that odd. His head cocked to the side as that curling curiosity surged to the forefront of his mind. It dragged questions to his lips that he refused to let spill from him like Tamaki unable to properly express himself.
"Ta-ka-shi!" Honey-senpai's cheerful voice filled the room as the petite blond launched himself at his cousin, arms wrapping around Mori-senpai's neck as his legs swung like a pendulum. "Ne, did you wait long? Ne? Ne?"
Sometimes, Kyouya envied him for his energy. It was the sort of vitality that could run the world, if only it could be harnessed. Perhaps it had something to do with all the sweets he consumed. Or perhaps it was only part of the mask that every member of the Host Club had cultivated in some shape or form. The energy was to be envied, yes. But Kyouya wasn't sure if he could stomach the optimism and bubbly-bright, pink that seemed to come with it.
Mori-senpai barely blinked at the sudden assault of cute and cuddly that attacked him. Then again, he was used to it. Much in the same manner that Kyouya was used to Tamaki whining and crying to him on a near-daily basis.
Brown eyes gleamed with happiness before focusing on the other person in the room. "Hey, Kyou-chan! You look busy!" Honey-senpai declared with an excitedly waving arm, the only currently holding his precious stuffed rabbit.
Kyouya adjusted his glasses. "Taking stock as usual, Honey-senpai."
"Sounds boring," the shorter teen commented cheerfully. "See you tomorrow, Kyou-chan."
Twitching, Kyouya dismissed the two with one hand. Already refocusing on his nearly completed list.
In that manner, hands carefully holding his cousin in place, Mori-senpai and Honey-senpai left Kyouya to his stock. It wasn't until the sound of their voices faded that Kyouya paused to think; the entire encounter struck him as odd. Why would Mori-senpai not wait for Honey-senpai outside of whichever room holding his cousin? Why had he appeared at such an opportune moment?
Head tilted to the side, Kyouya withdrew a second notebook from behind the first, flipping open the pages to make a careful notation. Another odd string of behavior from the perpetually unreadable Mori-senpai. The end of his gifted pen tapped against the pages as Kyouya considered the mystery that was Morinozuka Takashi.
Certainly something to ponder.
a/n: There are seven more parts to this. I'm not entirely happy with it, but so long as someone enjoys it, I will be satisfied. Thanks for reading!