Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club.
A/N: As I mentioned last chapter, updates are going to be irregular, but I'm going to try and compromise by gifting you incredible readers with satisfying chapters. Now I give a massive thank you to all who have brought this story nearing 200 reviews, 300 followers, 150+ favorites. Just… wow. This is the greatest gift you can give a writer.
Besides being busy with work, I've been updating for the K-Project fandom, and trying my hand at watching a few other anime. I'm obsessed with Fullmetal Alchemist (English dub) and Soul Eater (the original Japanese) right now. I know completely different, right? I love talking anime and manga, so feel free to hit me up with some friendly chat if you're ever bored waiting for updates.
To save you the work of having to go back and reread the last chapter to remember what has happened (it has been about 4 months) here's a recap: Haruhi narrowly avoided a kiss from Kyouya, and has conflicting feelings on how to react to his unexplained advances. It was revealed that Fuyumi is pregnant with an illegitimate child that the Ootori Family is desperate to conceal. A ball announcing the expectancy of the "Shido" heir is set. Tamaki has received a mysterious letter that is troubling him greatly, enough so that he asked Haruhi on a date.
To Make Every Girl Happy
He wanted to die.
He wanted to run away from the worrying glances that his mother threw in his direction, and to escape the burning judgment shining in Akito's dark eyes. The gentle sips Yuuichi made every time he drank from his coffee cup was nerve-wrecking, and all Fuyumi did nowadays was sulk, not eating as much as she should, seemingly uncaring of her own health as well as of the one she was carrying in her womb. It was becoming harder not to detest such actions. Worst of all, he wanted to snatch away his father's newspaper and shred it into a million satisfying pieces, just to have one chance of seeing bewilderment instead of mere tolerance on his lined face. Kyouya sat in stoic silence at his usual place at the dining room table, becoming less and less at ease with the people around him with each passing moment.
Once again, Yoshio had summoned all of them with a request that they eat breakfast together. Meanwhile, he gave no indication that the rest of his family even existed, and so the tension hung heavily on everyone. Only the youngest Ootori did not give a damn one way or another. He would wait patiently for his father to make his useless demands and then promptly return to his room to take care of his own business. With today being Saturday, it meant that Kyouya didn't have much of an excuse to go out anywhere unless he wanted to see any of the fellow Host Club members… of which he most certainly did not. In the back of his mind, he was aware that his behavior was less than refined. His aching heart constricted painfully. Things had worked out much differently with Haruhi than he expected, and the memory brought on too many conflicting emotions.
He wasn't sure why he tried to kiss her that time. He had just wanted to. If there were any doubts before that he might not hold genuine feelings for the commoner, they were extinguished. The remainder of the evening had been spent sitting outside her bedroom, leaning with his back against her door, each fist filled with clumps of his raven hair, threatening to pull them forcefully from his scalp. He hated the feeling of a knife twisting in his gut. Unaccustomed to the sense of hopelessness. For some reason he never thought she would pull away from him, reject him. Even as he sat there feeling sorry for himself, he felt more so for the young woman on the other side, all alone, who must be just as confused. Entering her room uninvited had not been an option, for countless reasons. Instead, he sat on the floor with his cheek to the door, inhaling air deeply, desperately trying to ignore the pain that came from no wound. So he imagined she was sitting on the other side too, in the exact same position, hoping to hear his heartbeat through the hard wood just as he was for hers. Kyouya grinned ruefully. When exactly had he become a romantic?
When the storm had blown over, he was forced to leave. That was the condition set, as long as Haruhi was safe. Given the late hour of the night, she was probably asleep, so he didn't have much hope that she had heard him when he whispered an apology through the crack of the door. Due to her lack of receptiveness, it was probably best that he stop pursuing her.
Consequently, his mood was foul.
"What crawled up your ass this morning?" Akito grimaced at the look of death on his brother's face. The dark bags under his eyes and disheveled hair on the otherwise neat boy was unsightly.
Yuuichi glared sharply. "Please don't use that kind of language in front of mother," he hissed. Arisu nodded curtly, busying herself smoothing back Kyouya's hair so he looked halfway human. His mother's warm hands caressed his cheeks, puzzlement being the dominant expression on her face. He refused to meet her eyes.
"Good morning, Young Master!" a maid chimed cheerfully, greeting him at the table. "What can I serve you?"
Her optimism bothered him, and for a moment, they didn't think he was going to respond at all. "Kyouya, are you feeling…?" Arisu began.
"Cornflakes," he murmured.
Even Yoshio peered over the top of his newspaper at that. His brothers paused in their chewing and took to staring at him from across the table in wonder. They had never heard of such a thing.
The maid frowned in uncertainty, clasping her hands together and bowing. "Pardon me, but I don't understand…"
"Do I have to repeat myself?" he snapped, shooting her with eyes like laser beams. "Your job is to give me what I want." She shrunk considerably in fear, bowing and apologizing profusely before excusing herself to the kitchen.
"The heck…" Akito clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Why must you be so difficult, Kyouya? Obviously we won't have any of that crap."
He looked up and almost responded with a smart ass retort, but his father cut in before he could get the first word out. "Leave him be," Yoshio said, stabbing a piece of his omelet with a fork.
"Yes, sir." Akito retreated, returning to his cup of black coffee.
Too suspicious of the elderly man to feel any kind of gratitude for his intervention, Kyouya occupied his time by pretending to clean his glasses. He wondered what she was thinking. If only Haruhi had given him the opportunity to explain, then maybe this overwhelming sense of nausea would not exist… No, actually he was being selfish because what he truly desired was to know why she refused him. Did she secretly despise him? Was his coming on to her too fast? Or was she seeing someone else without his knowing of it…?
Get a hold of yourself, he thought with a mental slap. She's just a commoner. No money, no real loss… Still, it hurt to think that the hours upon hours of nothing but Haruhi had been such a waste. In the beginning, he'd pursued her on nothing but a curious whim. Almost as if this were a game and for awhile, he believed it to be. Watching her, talking to her drew him in. Dare he say it, but he had grown fond of her. More than he should have. The cursed girl had him hook, line, and sinker, just as easily as she had Hikaru and Tamaki. She was tearing their club and their friendships apart; yet, easily brushed them aside, as if she had no desire for a handsome, rich husband in the least. It made Kyouya want to despise her the more he considered it, and then thinking of her with someone else left him with an inexplicably anger and desperation to strangle something. He didn't like it, even if she loved that faceless man in her future. He didn't like it at all.
At first, he disregarded Yoshio's cough. On the outside he appeared a bit restless, but otherwise concealed his inner turmoil surprisingly well.
"Son, have you read today's headlines?"
Startled, Kyouya hastily put on his glasses and struggled to maintain all of his attention on his father. His tone was perhaps too light, and it worried him. "Er… no. I have not." What did that have to do with anything? Yoshio placed a hand down on the newspaper that was neatly folded before him. He ran his hand along its edge, and then he smiled.
"Take a look." He slid the paper across the table to his youngest son. Uncertain, Kyouya glanced questioningly at the rest of his family before accepting it and studying the bold black lettering:
FAMILY PATRIACH MOURNS SHIZUE SUOH
Kyouya felt his blood run cold. He couldn't bear to read the rest.
This… this is what Tamaki was worrying about!? His mind thought sporadically, trying to rationalize the incomprehensible. He picked up the newspaper, holding it too tightly and wrinkling its clean edges. That night not too long ago, the French boy had been acting far too skittish. Kyouya had dismissed it as another one of his episodes of obsessing over his undiscovered feelings for Haruhi… oh, but he couldn't have been further from the truth! The hell, why hadn't he known about this sooner? What was so important that he could not see that his best friend was in pain?
I'm a horrible person.
"Her funeral is this morning." Yoshio lazily tapped his expensive wristwatch. He appeared unfazed by his son's unresponsiveness. "The article says that old woman's heir has bought out a section of a forest near their estate, and it is becoming a natural preserve. Apparently they're casting her ashes out there because she liked the trees when they bloomed in spring."
Why didn't he tell me his grandmother had passed away? What made him think he could handle this alone…?
"Naturally I spoke with Yuzuru Suoh personally and extended my condolences. He's taking it rather hard, and his son is not handling it much better… oh, but you knew that, right? It's why we are not invited to the funeral. They wanted this to be hushed up and private. I'm afraid the press just wouldn't allow that once they smelt blood."
Kyouya's eyes narrowed, forcing himself to stare straight ahead and speak in a calm, respective tone. "You knew about this earlier, Father." He remembered the 'Keep an eye on Suoh' warning from the other night. He had not known what that meant then.
"I assumed since you choose to dedicate more than enough of your time to that half-blood boy he must have already entrusted you with the same information. Or were you preoccupied with something else?"
Their black eyes clashed.
He knows. He knows about Haruhi, but how? The newspaper was tossed aside. He didn't have any desire to read the useless article.
"Oh, and I have something for you as well, Kyouya. But I'm afraid you can't have it right now. Just know that I will hang on to it and you will come retrieve it when the time is right." Yoshio reached into the inner pocket of his suit, withdrawing a small black box. He held it up between his thumb and forefinger. "You'll know what's inside when you decide that you want it."
Beneath the table, Kyouya's fists clenched until his knuckles began to turn white. This was unbelievable! His father was using the death of Tamaki's grandmother as some sort of test!
One thing was for certain: Shizue Suoh had died hating her grandson. No matter how fondly Tamaki had spoken of her and to her, the feelings were never reciprocated. She kept him from his sick mother, and locked him away in a mansion thousands and thousands of miles from his home in France. Though, the blond fool took it all in stride. Don't worry, one day I'll take you to meet her, mon ami! You'll see that my mother is the most beautiful woman in the world! I mean, she has to be, she gave birth to moi!
Kyouya abruptly pushed his chair back and stood.
"Where are you going?" Arisu asked, reaching out to grab his hand. He pulled away from her. Without excusing himself, he made for the doorway, ignoring the outraged remarks from his brothers at his rudeness.
He pulled his shoes out the hallway closet. "I need to stop that idiot before he does something stupid," he murmured. "Prepare a car…" A nearby maid nodded and ran off to find one of the drivers on duty. "Damn you Tamaki for giving me a headache this early in the morning."
Back in the dining room, the rest of the Ootori Family conversed quietly amongst themselves.
"Something was a little off about him earlier," Yuuichi mused. He made a motion to take a sip of his coffee and paused. "But he didn't know of his friend's grandmother's death? Then what was wrong?"
Akito shrugged. "I don't think anyone can really understand him. He keeps too much to himself. He's too good at hiding, if you ask me."
For the first time that morning, Fuyumi raised her head and spoke:
Tamaki, worn from the day's events, collapsed onto his bedroom couch. After a few moments of contemplation, he began to undo his black tie and strip out of the jacket that was much too warm to wear during the summer. He decided right then that if he died one day he wanted his funeral to be in the Arctic. He wasn't sure if anyone else had ever done that, but it sounded cool, no pun intended. With a sigh, he rolled off the cushions to make towards his closet. He liked to dress fancy, just not for these kinds of occasions. The only problem was that a raven haired boy with glasses materialized in his path with a look as sweet as death.
"Dear Lord, you scared me, Kyouya!" Tamaki's heart nearly jumped to his throat. "How the heck did you get in here?"
His best friend's dark eyes blinked wordlessly. He didn't feel the need to remind him of the side door, where deliveries were normally dropped off. He would have come through the main entrance except that the front lot and driveway was packed with cars and limousines belonging to the other relations of the Suohs.
"Alright, let me re-phrase that," the blond chuckled. "Why are you here?"
It was still the wrong thing to say.
"You know the hell why, Tamaki Suoh!" Kyouya's voice boomed a little louder than he intended, reflecting the frustration that had been building inside him. "I don't have to answer anything! It's you who's been keeping secrets and pussyfooting around!" He edged closer, but the princely host held his ground. Now they were nose to nose.
Tamaki pursed his lips, hurt.
"I know you better than you know yourself." Kyouya heeded his request anyway and tried to calm down. "You can put that dumb smile on for everyone else. All this talk of wanting to help people and self-sacrifice… when it comes down to it though, you're like me." He rested one hand upon his left breast. "There's always a silver lining, am I right? No, don't answer that! You would be lying if you denied it."
The fear in Tamaki's violet eyes melted into suspicion. "What do you want me to say, Kyouya? That I'm happy that my grandmother is dead? Even for you, that's crude."
"No, but you've been waiting for the day when that old woman will no longer stand in the way of what you want." The Ootori smirked at his deep look of disapproval. "I know you've already made arrangements for your return to France. The school semester is nearly finished. Why waste any time?"
Tamaki began shaking his head. "You don't understand-"
"LIKE HELL I DON'T!" Kyouya lost his temper, and this time it came through his hands. He shoved the blond boy so that he stumbled backwards several steps. "HOW DO YOU THINK I FIGURED THIS OUT ON MY OWN?"
"Look, I know you're hurt-!"
"You don't! You don't! Don't!" He seized him roughly by the collar of his shirt. It pissed him off to no end, watching Tamaki utterly refusing to fight him. He just accepted the hate, letting his arms hang limply down at his sides. Slowly, he allowed his head to hang in shame. Kyouya would have none of that. He forcefully pushed him onto the couch. Still, he did not find any satisfaction in looking down on his friend. Instead, he felt like the villain, the selfish man in this story that schemed and manipulated others when he didn't get his way.
"You were planning on running away from me." He must be careful not to venture too far into that territory.
Cautiously, Tamaki sat himself upright, his expression softened considerably after that short moment of vulnerability. His familiar serene smile returned. "Please, let me explain."
"Yes. Yes, there is," Tamaki said, pulling on his hand. "Sit down. I'll tell you everything. You're absolutely right; this was all part of my plan. But I'm not running away from you! And I thought you were the smart one, mon ami! That's just the dumbest thing I have ever heard you say."
Kyouya watched on in bewilderment as Tamaki gave a heartfelt laugh. Moving like a machine, he took a seat on the cushion next to him.
"Okay! Where to begin…? Ah, well, I guess I should tell you… about the letter I got in the mail with an address from France. Right away I knew it could only be from Maman! She must have found me through my father. He contacted her after Grandmother died, knowing she would probably want to see me again. It turns out that he has been secretly paying for her medicine and treatments ever since I moved to Japan. Isn't that beautiful, Kyouya?"
The Ootori blinked without a response.
"Anyway, we can't wait to see each other! Maman is sad that she's missed out on such an important stage of my life, so we have a lot of catching up to do. Also, like you said, I've already made arrangements to return home." He paused, suddenly becoming uncertain. "Permanently."
There was something surreal about hearing the words he already knew. Kyouya nodded curtly. Tamaki frantically waved his hands about, as if he were trying to direct traffic.
"Now I've really put a lot of thought into all of this! What about the Host Club? What will possibly become of it without their beloved king? It just wouldn't be right! I cannot bear to disappoint any of the clients. Though I know that it is impossible to come up with a replacement as fabulous as myself, compromise is achievable. Which is why I am passing on ownership rights to Hikaru and Kaoru! They are first years, after all, meaning that they still have two years at Ouran. It's better than getting someone entirely new and the bother of training and prepping him in a short amount of time. A real pain, ya know?"
Kyouya regarded him with a silent disposition, careful to mask his expression and the fact that his impression of Tamaki was becoming darker with every second.
"Don't worry! I didn't forget about you, silly goose!" The French boy's bright smile returned anew. He swung one arm around the other man who had been violently shoving him around just five minutes before. "I want you to come with me!"
It took a moment for those words to sink in and register their meaning. He almost believed he misunderstood, though the goofy grin on the idiot's face could not be anything but the truth. A million different emotions came flooding over him…and he was unsure exactly how to approach it. Through all the confusion, an odd warmth filled him, recognizing that Tamaki had not been conspiring against him all along. Guilt hit the demon lord like a freight train, all too aware that the main cause of this angst was indeed himself. His face betrayed none of his inner speculations.
"Huh, of course I will," he said quietly, tapping his glasses farther up on the bridge of his nose. "I would've followed you anyway to tell you that you're an idiot, but that is all the more reason I should stay with… ugh, get off of me, you!" The hug was completely uncalled for. The Ootori was not of the affectionate type. Tamaki embraced him anyway, tenderly rubbing his smooth cheek against his.
"The way you said that was so cool and sly! I think I would fall for you, Kyouya, if my heart did not belong to a girl!" he laughed, constricting his arms tightly around his helpless friend. "I do love you! I was so scared, thinking of a life without my very best man!"
"Yes, yes, Tamaki. That's all fine and flattering. Release me." Sweet oxygen soon flooded his air deprived lungs. "We… don't have… a lot… of time," he panted, quickly trying to compose himself once more. "The semester ends… in about a week." Something occurred to him then, sending an icy shiver racing down his spine. "How do you propose going about this? How are we going to tell Haruhi?" He cringed after using that name. I need to get away from her. I can choose Tamaki over that girl. It's easier for me to accept this if I don't see her anymore…
The rest of the room dimmed as Tamaki's bright smile flickered out. Violet eyes cast to the floor. "That's right. I've spent more time thinking on that than anything else. I feel sick every time I picture the betrayal and sadness on her face when I tell her… which is why I don't want to do it. I'm a coward. I just can't!" He clenched his fists tightly, refusing to look up at his friend. Fortunately for Kyouya, this meant he did not have to mask his own pain. Look at what you've done to these men, Haruhi… why can't I just hate you?
"I want her to come with us," he murmured.
"Impossible." Kyouya did not allow himself to even stop and consider the suggestion. "Her mother is buried here. Ranka's entire life is tied to Japan. She will not leave him."
Tamaki glared down at his hands. "What if he consented? Wanted her to go?" His voice grew a bit stronger. "I can promise she won't lose any of her benefits from Ouran. My father is the chairman of much more than just one small school in one small country. As long as she is with me, she'll never have to worry about anything ever again!"
"She won't see it like that…"
"Why not? Isn't my wanting her enough?" Tamaki recoiled from Kyouya, too blinded by his emotions to realize they were being reflected back at him. "Why can't she just accept that reason?"
"You're asking too much of her, Tamaki."
The French boy turned and gave him such a glare that even Kyouya felt his heart seize. "I already arranged two extra first class seats on a plane for you and Haruhi. I'm not going unless both those spots are filled!" The split second of anger melted into fear. "You have to help me! You've always been better at persuasion! I don't care… I don't care how you do it. I don't care that Haruhi doesn't want to see me as more than a friend. Seeing her happy makes me the happiest man in the world! She'll have you and me by her side and we'll get the fairy tale ending that I've always dreamed of!"
Kyouya edged away, slowly shaking his head. "You don't mean that…" he said lowly. "Let go of your fantasies, Suoh. Seeing her with another man will kill you."
"Maybe," Tamaki admitted with a small smile. His bravery was most admirable. "That's something I'm willing accept in order to be with her. And if you feel the same way, I know you'll never let go of her either."
"You've always been a fool…" Kyouya ran a hand through his messy black hair, remembering the taste of the commoner's soft skin. The savored memory made his lips tingle. "How can I convince her after I…?" He suddenly paused. Tamaki watched him as his dark eyes narrowed, but he turned his head so that the sun could reflect off the lenses of his glasses, and it left the French boy with an ominous feeling of discomfort. He knew that look too well.
"I have a plan."
Haruhi waved good-naturedly to her father as he set off for work. She smiled at the sound of his high heeled shoes clicking on his way down the cement stairs. Today was the first Saturday in a long time that they had spent together. Things went surprisingly well. After a visit to her mother's grave, Ranka took her to a small shop one of his friends owned that sold soft-served ice cream. Then they chose to have a seat beneath the overhang and simply talked. It had been too long since they had a peaceful conversation as father and daughter, with no needless interruptions. She found herself wishing that they would spend more days like that. Ranka was the only one she had, after all.
At just the moment Haruhi was about to open her textbooks for a quick review, sharp knocking at the door caused her to start. A quick glance at the clock told her it was well into the evening and much too late for any visitors. Then, as she considered who would be on the other side, she thought it could be him.
Haruhi blushed deeply.
"You know it's me," she heard him say, slightly muffled through the door. "Are you going to ignore a man standing on your front step?"
She did not reply.
"I'll wait here all night," he warned. "I'll make you pay one way or another for each second I have to sleep on the cement."
His trick worked, just as he knew it would. Within a few seconds the door was wrenched open to reveal her small form in a baggy T-shirt and denim shorts. She regarded him with a frown, but did not seem hostile. Haruhi was more concerned with why he was seeing her rather than what had transpired before. She rationalized that he had been caught up in the moment. Being young and alone with someone you have steadily become close too might result in… confusion. It was far-fetched and doubtful that anything Kyouya felt for her was more than just lust unveiled in a momentary lapse of manners. That was not his fault. He was a young man, and she believed he was confusing his desire with… something else. After all, this had started with a game of 'pretending' to be lovers. There was the chance he had grown too accustomed to playing that role.
"Senpai," she said, trying to sound stern. "What are you doing? People will talk if they see you."
"Let me in, and I promise they won't see anything."
She sighed in exasperation, but moved aside for him anyway. "You could have just called."
He shook his head. "What I have to do can't be done with a phone call… unfortunately."
Haruhi arched an eyebrow at him, watching as he stood awkwardly in her living room as if he did not know what to do with himself. His hands seemed to be shaking. Her irritation quickly vanished, replaced entirely with concern.
"What's wrong?" She gently touched his elbow while he continuously ran his fingers through his hair. She had never seen him looking so disorderly.
To her astonishment, he snorted, pulling away. "Life, pretty much. Haruhi, I have to make this quick. We don't have a lot of time and you have too much thinking to do. I am prepared for your rejection, but I will not stop coming back until you change your mind."
Haruhi could not think of what to do except stare at him blankly. Kyouya chuckled, a bit sarcastically, as he glanced around her apartment. "I never thought it would be here."
"What are you saying?" She tried to keep her tone from sounding too annoyed. "You're not making any sense."
Her senpai opened his arms with upturned palms. "I have nothing to tell you but the truth. Tamaki's grandmother is dead. He's moving to France at the end of the semester."
At that, Haruhi's brown eyes widened. "Then we have to stop him, of course! Kyouya-senpai, what should I-?"
"Oh, what can you do? A commoner? What can a commoner do?" he mocked. "Only a selfish, social freeloading woman such as yourself would keep a man from his dying mother!"
Haruhi withdrew sharply from him, as if slapped. "D-Dying…?"
"She's been sick for years… who knows if her treatments are actually going to save her…?" Kyouya felt a pang of regret as he said this, as he metaphorically punched Haruhi where he knew it hurt the most. There's no other way. "I'm going with him."
No instantaneous burst of protest as there had been for Tamaki. Rather, she backed up against the front door for support, looking up at him in pure denial. Trembling.
"At the end of the semester? But that's so soon…" Haruhi shook herself. "I don't understand. Why do you have to leave, Senpai?"
Good. I need to keep this moving. "I'm going to do you a favor, Haruhi, as long as you give me something in return." Kyouya reached into the back pocket of his jeans, handing the commoner a slip of paper. She accepted it wordlessly. "That's my statement saying that you have paid off your debt with the Ouran Host Club in full."
Haruhi did not even open it. "That doesn't mean anything to me," she whispered, tossing the paper onto the coffee table where it would lay forgotten. "I never cared about that debt. Don't you dare take me for a selfish, freeloading woman! How dare you assume I would trade your friendship for the sake of money!" Her voice cracked with emotion, forcing her to pause. The adrenaline pumping through her veins from her anger gave her the courage to continue. "Do you want me to beg, Kyouya-senpai? Do you want me to get on my knees, huh? Is that it? What can I do to make you stay?" She pushed herself off the door, stalking toward him on unstable legs. He took a step back when she began poking him roughly in the chest, though he realized that she was so weak she would not have been able to hurt him if she wanted to. The crazed look in her eyes was beginning to concern him. "You wanted a kiss. I'll kiss you! You're still in control, Senpai, just as you were before!" The disparity in their heights posed as a problem for her. Even on the tips of her toes she could not reach his lips.
Kyouya effortlessly caught her forearms, holding them tightly. "I won't kiss you unless you are my wife." Despite her struggling, he managed to reach into his other pocket, withdrawing a familiar black box. He pulled the lid back on its small silver hinges, presenting Haruhi with a diamond ring. "I'm asking you to marry me."
Thank you reviewers: ashley-serket, , luxartisan, Yirna, dancingfingers, FeatherBerry, silver drip, shannonluv3, Bloodyravenheart13, Nano1012, isara-love, AliasStars, METGS, Nami Swannn, kinoooo, mcangel1976, Katliana, collegecomics18, irgroomer, Destines Entwined, , breakingflower, and my two Guest reviewers. Please correct me if I have forgotten anyone. It's been quite a long time since the last update.
All answers to your questions will hopefully be in Chapter 13 (but go ahead and ask them, just in case I accidentally overlook anything). As you can see, we are not at the ending quite yet due to some loose strings that I plan to tidy up nicely. I do have a scene set that will justify why I've rated the story M for smut, and I hope it is worth how long all of you have been waiting. My favorite part of writing this chapter was the strained conversation between Tamaki and Kyouya. I thank you for reading, and please review if you feel up to it today.