Chapter Text
What do you do when you’ve achieved everything you’ve ever worked for?
Standing at the window of her law office, looking out at the city, Haruhi puzzled over the answer to that question. She’d always figured she’d move on from the one goal to the next, and that had been the answer she’d given when she was asked, but now it felt even more inadequate than it had then.
She put her hand on the window, closing her eyes. If she’d been able to say something more, something more personal and less of… well, of a platitude, would it have made any difference? Would it have changed anything?
Would he be in touch with any of them now? She knew she wasn’t as close to some of them as she had been, her attempt at a relationship with Tamaki causing so many divisions she might as well have killed the host club, and there was another part of her that wanted to blame him for the way the club splintered in the first place, but that was hardly fair. They all had their parts to play and their guilt to bear. For all that they’d worked together to save Tamaki from going to France, they hadn’t done anything for Kyoya despite his erratic behavior, and none of them had stopped him from disappearing.
He’d dropped off the face of the planet after his graduation, and no one knew where he was or if he was even alive now.
None of them could excuse that only on him being the Shadow King. Yes, Kyoya knew the shadows better than anyone, and if he wanted to disappear, he could have, but they still could have done something to keep him from feeling like that was his only option. Weren’t they his friends? They should have seen it. Should have helped him.
Her chest tightened. She supposed she felt more guilt than anyone else, since she had been the one he asked, and maybe she had failed him more than anyone else. For all that Tamaki said he wanted to be equal with Kyoya, someone he could be himself with, she wasn’t sure he had ever really known or understood his friend. Kyoya had, and he had done so much for Tamaki, but the one time she was sure Tamaki thought he was doing something for Kyoya, he’d been about to abandon the host club. That just proved it, didn’t it?
She turned away from the window, going back to her desk. She had what she wanted, what she’d worked so long and hard for. She was a lawyer like her mother. Not everything had gone according to plan, no, and her failed relationship with Tamaki was one part of that, but she was happy with where she was and how far she’d come. She’d completed all her goals, and that was what mattered, wasn’t it? She’d made it.
So why did she feel this sense of… emptiness? Why did it all seem hollow all of a sudden?
She knew what some might say, but she didn’t need a relationship to be happy. She had her career, she had her friends, and there was still time for romance later. She could even have children, too, when she was ready for that—if she ever was.
This was what she wanted. What she needed. She had gotten her dream, and she was happy.
She was content.
She resisted the urge to drop her head onto her desk. Damn it, now it was all so clear, but back then, she’d been an idiot. She hadn’t seen it or understood. Now she did. As much as this job was what she wanted and all she’d worked for, in the quiet moments in between her work, that nagging voice found time to question her.
What now?
The truth was, she had no good answer to that. Not now, for herself, and not then, for Kyoya.
“What do you do when you’ve achieved everything you’ve ever worked for?” Kyoya asked, and Haruhi looked over at him. She hadn’t expected such a question from him, and she couldn’t help but wonder about it. Kyoya had seemed distant since the fair, but then she’d assumed it had to do with his father. She wondered if he’d been pressured to give up the host club, just like Tamaki was.
She reached for the tea cup in front of her. Somehow he always seemed to have a pot of something near him. “I suppose you find a new goal.”
“A new goal?” Kyoya repeated like the idea was foreign to him. He frowned. “Perhaps that is it.”
“What is?”
Kyoya studied his cup, which had to have cooled for it not to steam up his glasses as close as he held it right now. “I told you before that I am the third son and all that came with it. The expectations placed upon me as well as the challenge.”
She nodded. She’d thought it was rather unreasonable, but he’d claimed he liked it. “Yes, you did. And you never did tell me much about your family.”
“Again, there is little to tell.”
She doubted that. She had a feeling a lot of Kyoya’s issues went back to his family, even more so after seeing what his father did at the fair that day. She’d told him off for it later, but at the time, no one had done anything about what his father did.
Still, that was why he didn’t want to say anything, wasn’t it? His father was abusive, both physically and emotionally, berating Kyoya the way he did, and Kyoya had defended him before, like that situation was somehow right when it wasn’t.
She’d thought she understood him some that day at the mall, but she still didn’t know him. The more she saw of him—and the others, too—showed her that these rich bastards had their problems, too. “Still, you haven’t gotten everything you wanted, have you? Your father hasn’t announced who he’s naming heir yet, so there’s still—”
“The Ootori Group was facing a hostile takeover from Tamaki’s one time fiancée. I used my own money to buy them out first. I own the majority shares, but I let him have the managing interest.”
The look on Kyoya’s face then honestly scared her, and she wasn’t often cowed by the shadow king, not anymore. Still, the menace in his voice and how cold it was almost hurt even though it wasn’t directed at her. His hatred of his father seemed so strong and so clear, and she felt almost wrong for hearing them.
“You see?” Kyoya asked, his expression returning more to the one he used as a host. “I have accomplished all I set out to do.”
She nodded, feeling a bit shaken and maybe even sick. “You did.”
“And now...” Kyoya set down his cup. “There does seem little point in continuing. I got what I wanted, what they told me I’d never have, and what I’d even started to believe I might not get.”
“You just need a new goal, that’s all.”
He gave her a withering look that suggested she was an idiot as he rose and walked away. She sat back and grimaced, shaking her head at how unreasonable he was.
If she’d only known then that it was the beginning of the end, of just how much it was all going to crumble, she’d have gone after him, she’d have fought to keep him there until she’d really understood and helped him, but she hadn’t.
She’d let him go, and after that, he got more and more distant from the club, from his friends, even Tamaki. At the end, his grades had slipped, and he didn’t seem to care. It shouldn’t have surprised anyone when he disappeared after graduation. They’d had enough warning.
And yet they were shocked.
He’d left.
He had done it in typical shadow king fashion, with everything arranged. They’d all gotten their letters at about the same time, and while each was slightly personalized, they were similar enough to where everyone got the same message.
Don’t look for me. Don’t try and find me. I won’t let you. I’m done.
And with those words, Kyoya Ootori dropped out of everyone’s lives. Word broke a while later that the Ootori group’s major stockholder had sold all his shares. Kyoya had cut ties with his family as well, and though Tamaki dragged them all to see Kyoya’s small army of bodyguards, those men seemed more shaken than anyone, as Kyoya had somehow managed to arrange all of this without their notice.
Seeing Tachibana’s face made it clear—Kyoya was gone.
And he wasn’t coming back.