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A cooling breeze blew Tamaki’s hair as he sped by in an open-top car. He was enjoying the escape from the afternoon heat, even poking his head to the side as the view of the peaks up ahead began to show.
“Wow, look!” He called, voice muffled in the wind. He reckoned he could count the number of mountains he’d seen in his lifetime on one hand. Well, he could count most things on his one hand — his memory wasn’t ideal.
The chauffeur followed his gaze and nodded. “The Eastern Nagano Prefecture. Would you like me to stop, Master Suoh?”
“Keep going ahead for now.” Though Tamaki was itching to get a better look — practically craning his neck out of the high-speed car by now — he had a destination in mind, and knew better than to get side tracked. He sighed, running a hand to tame his hair. “But I suggest you make a mental note of this location. I intend to return some other time.”
The chauffeur replied with another one of his nods, stoic as ever. Tamaki watched his focused eyes as they continued down the road, inaudibly willing him to speak more. Even a conversation about the weather would do. He always got a little restless in silent company. He understood that most would find it therapeutic. And a car ride through the countryside was supposed to be. But as they finally left behind the acres and acres of rice fields and crossed a bridge with a sign reading ‘KARUIZAWA 20km’, it was apparent that the natural wonders weren’t going to grasp his attention as much as they did earlier. He knew he was reaching his destination even if it was just a subconscious realisation. He hoped that the whir of the wind rushing past and the murmur of the rolling wheels would be enough to distract him from where he was going.
And who he was meeting.
He recounted his last conversation with Kyoya. Something to do with fancy tea cups or something. Completely pointless: the Host Club already had plenty of the finest. It had been so long since he’d heard that cynical voice. Tamaki almost missed that signature glare.
The two friends had drifted apart this Summer. It was completely different to the years before, where they’d spend every ray of sunshine, for what it’s worth, together. Though Tamaki knew Kyoya had much to do in preparation for the final year of high school, he had a nagging feeling that something was a little off. He felt an empty void beside him whenever he enjoyed an ice-cream or took a stroll by his mansion’s boulevard. Last night, on his third stroll that day, he had sat on a bench in the flower gardens with a purple rose between his fingers. Gently stroking a thorn with his thumb, a thought emerged. C ’est la vie : if Kyoya never bothered to come over, that wasn't something he could control.
And so his lungs burned when he got back to his room. He had his bag packed and was ready to go by morning.
The sky turned yellowish now as the chauffeur drove through the town. The drive became an agonising slow, curving through neighbourhoods and garishly bright shop fronts. What felt like hours later, the car stopped. Tamaki all but tumbled out the car and found himself before two large potted plants that served as a gateway to steps that ran up the back of an orchid. He was handed his bag and he hooked it over his shoulder. “Is this it?”
The driver nodded his head. “Down that path is what the Satnav is telling me. It’s no surprise the Otori family doesn't permit cars near their estates.” He closed the trunk with a click. “I can accompany you if—”
“No, no!” Tamaki interrupted. He gave the driver a quick smile to soften the sudden rudeness of his tone. “Thank you, Mr…”
“Yamada.” He said cooly. He seemed completely ready to get back in the car and drive off.
“Mr Yamada. I appreciate the offer but you’ve done more than enough. I’m certain Grandmother will pay you handsomely.” Tamaki reached into his pocket and handed Mr Yamada a heart shaped lolly and winked. “For the journey back.”
Tamaki received a raised brow and mumbled thanks in reply but was already up to the fifth step. He had racked his memory all night for any mention of where Kyoya was staying. Secretive as his friend was, Tamaki had panicked that he’d never be able to find out. Except, the early morning phone call with Haruhi proved that he simply never told him. That spark of frustration after hearing the grumbled words of ‘What, he never told you?’ now fueled murderous strides up the steps. Tamaki was going to show him a piece of his mind.
He traded his typical elegant walk with a stopping march down the gravel pathway that opened out. He reached the door and rapped on it with three angry knocks.
Several latches were unlocked to the face of a wide-eyed maid. She looked at him expectantly.
Tamak let out a long breath and tweaked his grimace once again to a smile. He had a young lady in his presence. “Excuse me for troubling you, dear.” He gave a swift bow. Not his best, but at least he made sure to meet her eyes in a way he knew would make her heart drip. “Is Master Kyoya home?” Tamaki briefly considered strangling her if she said no. Briefly.
“Um…” The girl averted her gaze and Tamaki chewed on his lip, part of him relieved his charm was still active even at the worst times. She opened the door wide and began down the corridor. “Right this way, Sir.”
The house was modest for an Otori estate. The interior design lacked the modern, sleek style he was used to seeing, but the mahogany floors and low ceilings somehow gave a more homely feel. He could understand the appeal.
“Master Otori is in his study at the present…” The maid began as she led him into the parlour. “I’ll go get him.”
“No need.”
The voice came from across the room. It hit the two of them like a missile and they jumped in unison.
Locking eyes with Kyoya, Tamaki couldn’t help the grin that betrayed everything that was bubbling up inside of him. He was wrapping his arms around his friend in seconds, squeezing him before either had even spoken.
“Tamaki.” Came the sighing, peeved voice he didn’t know he needed so much. “Please tell me what you’re doing here?”
Tamaki released him and flicked his nose playfully. “Don’t give me that, Kyoya dearest. You know, I’m supposed to be mad at you right now.”
“That doesn’t even—” Kyoya shook his head. He ran a hand over his face and mumbled a prayer under his breath. “God, what is it then?”
“You never came to see me. Which I am tremendously insulted by, mind.”
Kyoya frowned.
“So that was practically an invitation for me to make my presence known.”
Tamaki took in Kyoya’s appearance in the silence that followed. He wore very casual attire: an untucked shirt with the top two buttons undone and dark slacks. Not a single item was adorned with a designer logo. His eyes were narrowed in a way that looked like he just woke up — but that can’t be right , Tamaki remembered, he never slept .
His friend took in a deep breath and signalled to the maid. “Ena. Show this idiot to a guest room.”
Ena bowed and Tamaki gratefully handed her his bags. But he didn’t follow her up the stairs. Instead, he sat on the felt couch and crossed his legs.
Kyoya didn’t protest. He leaned against the wall; a clock above his head ticked and ticked and ticked…
The two watched each other.
“So.” Tamaki began, clearing his throat. He placed his hands on his knees and angled his head at Kyoya. This length of silence was unusual. He was expecting Kyoya to break into some sort of intellectual remark about the birds native to this area. Anything.
“So.” Came the plain reply. Kyoya crossed his arms. “Mad at me?”
“What? No, no. Not really.” That was the last thing Tamaki was expecting. “Actually…” Desperate for conversation, his mind whipped out a typical grudge he had against Kyoya. “Why don’t you ever answer your phone? You know, you’d have saved me a lot of trouble. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Some people have important things to do.”
“Important what? It’s the holidays!”
“You forget we’re about to enter the most important year of our lives’.” The words printed out of Kyoya’s mouth like a rehearsed lecture. “Sometimes you forget who we are.”
Tamaki feared getting grey hairs from the mental strain this was giving him. He needed to think good thoughts: flowers and luxury and blue, blue skies.
“And what exactly is that supposed to mean? Maths and Classical Greek aren’t exactly going to dictate my life.” But Tamaki’s voice came out less carefree than he hoped it would. The image of Kyoya’s troubled face before him sent a pang of pity through him. He wanted the weight over Kyoya’s dropped shoulders to disperse into light, paper-thin petals. He couldn’t stand the sight of his Shadow King being, well, lost in the shadows of work and expectations.
“I’m guessing you’re thinking what a workaholic I’ve made of myself.”
Tamaki’s mouth shut.
“And I wouldn’t be too far off in thinking you believe you can drag me out of it.” Kyoya gave Tamaki the first smile of the day (albeit a very small, cryptic one). “Charming.”
At that Kyoya pushed his glasses up his nose and stepped away from the wall. Tamaki looked up at him. He hadn’t a clue what to say.
“Dinner will be served at quarter to. Don’t expect me to join you.”
———-
Kyoya, true to his word, didn’t come down for dinner. Nor did he emerge from his room for the rest of the evening.
Later that night, Tamaki lay on the bed in the guest room. He eyed the waves of the dark fields far out the window.
Kyoya’s face circled through his mind, murky and cloudy.
He had much to do if he wanted to see the skies cleared.