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Chapter Sixteen: The Unusual Guest!

My father, as expected, had not taken the rejection of his phone calls too well. It took him three video calls and a plethora of text messages to come down off his proverbial cliff.

"I can come," he threatened, his voice crackling over the speaker of my phone. I dipped into an alcove, grimacing as I came face-to-face with a facial bust of a saint or some Greek god, the brows strong and drawn low in disapproval. "I have that capability, Ko!"

"I know that you have that capability," I snapped, turning my back as a few curious students slowed as they passed me. "It would be embarrassing if a 40 year old business tycoon didn't have that capability."

"Is that lip?" he demanded, sounding like a huffy bird, puffing up his feathers in outrage. I could just picture him, his meaty hand clutching the expensive furniture of his drawing room, the pictorous French landscape sprawling dreamily just outside of his window. Pompous, flighty vieil homme. "Is my own daughter giving me lip?"

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. And then I took another before forcing out a tight: "No."

"Hm." He sounded indignantly resigned, mulling over some internal working that I was sure landed in the realm of "parent" and not "functioning adult." My foot ached, the bandages digging into the soft skin around my toes. It had been nearly two weeks and while the stitches had dissolved, leaving behind a baby pink scar, my foot still felt delicate. My father's voice crackled, deepening as he finally spoke again. "You know I'll have to tell your mom."

My stomach dropped, my hands going clammy. It was a visceral response. All of the indignation and resentment came bubbling up inside of me at a rate that made me near comatose. Vaguely, I recalled the tight, chic fit of her clothes. The perfume that she had always rubbed into her wrists with a superior flare like every detail about her needed to exude elegance or else she would be called out by the other rich women of the world. The time that she had dyed her hair in my bathtub because she didn't want to risk staining her own even though she had always had more than enough money to go to whatever salon she wanted.

"Over a phone call?" I hissed, not bothering to hide the seething rage in my voice. "I haven't missed a meeting in over 7 years and you come down on me over not making a personal call with my own father?"

"Oh, stop being so dramatic, mon canard," he breathed, huffing out an exasperated sigh. "You know she's been wanting more reports on your current affairs. She wants to stay connected. She's your mother, afterall."

"A good way to stay connected is to stay in the same time zone as your daughters," I seethed, frazzled, running a sweaty palm through my hair.

"Ko."

My mouth snapped shut, old loyalties tightening my gut.

I hated both of them.

I had realized this a long time ago. But… it was more complicated than that. Because they had taught me to crave their approval as well, to give me rare glimpses of gentle praise that my very body sang for it. I hated them but apparently, I didn't hate them enough. Apparently, that pure emotion was tainted, poisoned with the bitter love that only a child could crave from a parent.

"Have some respect." I bit down on my cheek, tasting metal. I respected them enough to take care of their company. I respected them enough to go get their wayward daughter. I respected them enough to not drop everything so that they would have to come back from their luxury vacations. "Your mother and I will discuss the best course of action to follow. We love you, Ko. We don't want you to be too overwhelmed."

The sentiment was laughable. I felt it tighten my guts until it was like they were being stirred by a ladle.

There was a long, stiff silence - one that I refused to break. I let it hang there between us, speaking when I couldn't. I let him feel my judgment, my resentment, my utter rage crackle through the line until he gave a soft cough.

His voice was tentative when he finally spoke again. "Bonne Journée, mon canard. Je t'aime."

"Je t'aime, papa," I forced out, hanging up before the conversation could wither any further.

The Greek statue stared back at me, his expression tensed into one of judgment - maybe even quiet anger. I didn't look away for a moment, keeping his gaze in a foolish battle of wills. Wasting my energy here was better than anywhere else. I felt it rolling inside of me like a series of dark clouds, struck through with lightning.

Ding, ding, ring. My hand didn't shake as I answered, my voice steady, emotionless. "Ko Houshakuji."


I needed to find a way to tell Renge that our parents were starting to get interested in what we were doing here. My feet stuttered to a stop, the sign for Music Room 3 just ahead. When had I become her accomplice? I wondered grimly. Originally I would have gone home and already had my bags packed, smug in the belief that our mother would be dragging us back to France within the next night.

Instead, I felt a mounting dread. Cursing softly, I stormed toward the cracked door, pressing my hand to the top of my hair and into the ruffle navy blue of my skirt before I pushed it open and a gust of wind, slammed a pile of rose petals into my face.

"Welcome!" Came the chorus and I grumbled, frowning down at the petals that I was currently picking from where my white button-down tucked into the high-waist of my navy-blue skirt, golden buttons running down the front.

"Sister-in-law is the only one who ever looks unhappy coming in here," Hikaru and Kaoru whined, sighing dramatically from their places flanking Tamaki. "It's kind of a mood killer, don't you think?"

I turned a savage glare on the two, finally taking in the outfit of the day. Tamaki was dressed in a stuffy, flamboyant uniform, gold medals, and shoulder pads sparkling against his otherwise white ensemble. His eyes sparkled as he gave me a cheesy grin, waving excitedly. The twins were dressed in a more keyed-down uniform in baby-blues, a white turtleneck just beneath while Haruhi and Honey each had more of a violet tone to theirs.

My breath went a little uneven as I caught sight of the ebony suits that Mori and Kyoya shared, the sleeves short as if they knew for a fact that their biceps were swoon-worthy. Contrary to the chaotic mess of the beach house, Kyoya's hair was smoothed down, looking ruffled but like that had only come from running his hands through his hair too often. I frowned at the secretive smile, the heated way that his eyes were running over my body.

Around all of their waists sat a belt, hanging low as if the packs secured to them had anything more than empty air. Police men, I thought.

I cooled my tone, blatantly ignoring Kyoya's pullover me as I turned a polite smile to the Hitachiin twins. "You've been doing a lot of themes lately." My smile grew, relishing the next words before I said to them, slowly, sweetly. "Trying to compensate for something?"

The effect was immediate, my words drawing out outraged gasps from the twins as Tamaki's face crumbled.

"Compen-" Hikaru demanded, his face stricken as he lunged toward me.

Kaoru's face loomed above me, his expression one of annoyance. "I've never compensated for anything my entire life. I can show you right now. YOU'LL SEE WHOSE COMPENSATIN-"

A hand curled around Kaoru's shoulder, jerking him away with such force that he collided with his brother. Kyoya stepped between us, his smile a sharp thing as he eyed the twins. "I think that's enough."

I tried not to look too smug as I smirked around Kyoya's shoulder, catching the twin's outraged stares. Dark eyes cut to me, his expression altogether reproachful and yet...soft. I felt myself melt a little bit, my body swaying closer to his until I could feel the soft fabric of his clothed back against my front. My smirk was gone now, my head tipping back, back, back until I could catch every angle of his face, the unruly mess of the hairs that curled around his ears, and the strong line of his nape.

I had seen him - short, heated glances - in the halls, between classes but nothing more. Maybe I had been avoiding him. Maybe I had been running away for whatever was welling up inside of me. I had felt it there at the beach house - that tether that seemed to run between us.

For a moment, those strange eyes of his widened, his jaw tightening as his gaze caught and stayed rapt on me before they were narrowing, his whole body turning toward me. His familiar scent filled my lungs, calming me for an infinite moment as I searched his eyes. What was I looking for?

"Is everything alright, sweets?" he whispered and my muscles loosened at the deep, gravelly sound of his voice, the way that he seemed to lean toward me too - around me. Like he was trying to shield me. His eyes crinkled, his eyes darkening, tensing with...concern. "Did something happen?"

"I-" I took a deep breath, my hands reaching up before I even realized what I was doing. The material of his uniform scraped along my fingertips as my brows furrowed. His eyes tracked the moment, going dark and heated. "It's… good to see you."

He blinked. I blinked, dazed. Was that what this was? Walking into a room and feeling...safe… It was the first time I felt anything so… It made my head spin, my heart squeeze. How could such a little thing feel so real? Like the first breath of air that I had ever had? All from him. How?

A slow, sure smile curled his lips, his eyes widening in wonder for only a moment before his face was washed over. He looked boyish in that moment - light and teasing in a way that belayed everything I knew about him. I wanted to kiss him, I realized. I wanted to grab him by the collar and pull him down so that I could taste that smile on my lips.

His long, strong fingers curled around where my fingertips still rested, cautiously against his chest, the contact making my stomach flutter. The grey in his eyes swirled, mixing with the amber brown as he kept my eyes captive.

His voice was a rough whisper against my knuckles, each word pushed into my skin by his lips and breath. "Sometimes you say things that make me want to haul you into dark, curtained-off areas."

I gasped, my mind spinning, coming to one conclusion and then careening into another. "Wh-what?"

"Woah," a small voice whispered and I jolted, suddenly remembering that we weren't in fact alone and that we were in fact surrounded by other people. Kyoya's eyes narrowed, annoyance tensing his brow as he moved my hand away from his lips. He didn't let me go though, his fingers curling around my own. I felt the telling burn of my cheeks as I blinked around, both of the twins leaning heavily against each other, their mouths gaping in open awe. And beside them, Honey had ducked behind Mori, his eyes wide.

I couldn't bear to look at Tamaki and Haruhi, my back straightening rigidly at the dumbfounded expressions.

"I didn't know that you were that smooth, Kyoya," Kaoru murmured, his eyes swiveling between us in rapt wonderment. Hikaru gave a soft sound of agreement, his arm slung casually across his brother's shoulder, his expression an identical mirror.

"True love." I flinched, all of my muscles tensing at the sniffling whine of a voice. "Il n'y a qu'un bonheur dans la vie, c'est d'aimer et d'être aimé."

The words nearly drove me over the edge. I whirled, nearly ricocheting back from the fact that Kyoya was refusing to let go of my fingers, his face decidedly blank. I jabbed a finger at Tamaki's tearful expression, his cheeks flushed. "Tu parles comme un bouffon."

He blinked, a single tear slipping free from his violet eyes before nodding. "Sometimes it's hard to concede your feelings."

I snarled, taking a slow, measured step toward him. "You-"

A soft shuffling sound made me halt, all of our heads whipping to the side as the music room's door slid open.

Behind me, I heard the twins murmur in confusion. Tamaki's head tipped to the side, his eyes lighting with interest and a bit of confusion.

Standing in the door, looking more than a little out of place was a child, her blonde hair tied high in pigtails and her eyes a wide blue.

"What an unusual guest," Tamaki murmured and I had to agree.


French to English!

vieil homme: Old man

mon canard: my duck

Bonne Journée, mon canard. Je t'aime.: Have a nice day, my duck. I love you.

Je t'aime, papa: I love you papa.

Il n'y a qu'un bonheur dans la vie, c'est d'aimer et d'être aimé.: There is only one happiness in life; to love and be loved. (Verse by "George Sand")

Tu parles comme un bouffon.: You sound like a buffoon.