Chapter Text
Kyouya's eyes were on his notepad, his pen busily scribbling away, but Tamaki could still feel the weight of his attention bearing down on him.
Anyone else would have asked what was wrong, why he slipped into brief melancholic moods or stared off into space in between conversations. But Kyouya rarely asked such things. He simply observed. Was he trying to puzzle it out for himself, or waiting for Tamaki to speak first? Whatever the reason, Tamaki was grateful for his friend's silence. He found his gaze tracking the room, unerringly finding its target. Haruhi was refilling Hani's tea, and the two seemed deep in some discussion he couldn't quite hear.
With a fierce appliance of will, Tamaki averted his eyes.
The one thing most important to me right now is my dream.
Nope.
Nope, not going to think about that particular conversation.
Instead he found himself studying the twins. They were lounging on one of the broad windowsills, flipping idly through a magazine. And they looked...
Bored.
Tamaki felt the first stirrings of alarm. Bored twins were never a good thing. It was only a matter of time until they fell back on their tried and true method of picking on someone for their own amusement. As that someone was usually their own King, he decided to get ahead of that particular fiasco and give them something better to do with their time.
He clapped his hands together once, loudly, beaming as all eyes turned his way. “Right! Everyone!” He struck his best Leader role, legs apart, one hand planted firmly on his waist, the other pointing dramatically skyward. “Let's discuss our theme for next week!”
“We already went over that yesterday,” Hikaru griped without looking up from his magazine.
“Our King doesn't remember anything past breakfast,” Kaoru agreed, reaching out to flip the page.
“Tamaki, we already decided it would be a fantasy setting,” Haruhi spoke up, setting the teapot carefully to the side. Tamaki caught himself watching her in spite of himself, some of his enthusiasm dying. He lowered his hand.
She seemed completely unaffected. A part of him flashed with a moment's jealousy that she could be so calm. The feeling passed through him before he could fully grasp and name it.
“Remember?” the twins demanded in unison.
“Ah--” Tamaki quickly wrenched his attention back to the problem at hand. “Yes! That's right. We must get the costumes prepared--”
“We already did that,” came the dual answer.
“Oh.” Tamaki wracked his brain. He was beginning to remember, now. He'd still been mopey then, but he did seem to recall discussing costumes and set-up.
Kyouya closed his notebook with a slap. “Rather than repeating a conversation we've already had, we should be going over the budget.”
“Also a conversation we've already had,” Hikaru remarked.
Kaoru smirked. “Not that Tamaki ever listens to it.”
Kyouya continued talking as if he hadn't heard. “Despite the dance at the festival two weeks ago, many people still believe that Haruhi is male and was merely cross-dressing for the event. But there are still enough that figured out the truth or at least have their suspicions. That's caused her to lose most of her regular customers. Some were even so embarrassed they haven't yet returned to the host club for any of us.” He didn't look at Haruhi, but Tamaki saw her shift her feet and glance away with a grimace. She must be wondering how she was ever going to repay her debt. “We need to make up for this,” Kyouya continued firmly. “If, for instance, we cut back on the snacks provided--”
“Noooooo!” Hani wailed, eyes welling up with tears. He moved to cover his cake protectively. “You can't! Anything but that!” Mori made vague soothing gestures.
Kyouya's mouth tightened. “We can save a good deal of money simply by replacing the specialty snacks with something light like sandwiches. Or more of this commoner food you've seemed so eager to introduce. If nothing else, it's cheap and easily accessible.”
“Boooring,” the twins sang. They uncoiled from the windowsill, tossing the magazine to the side. Hikaru propped his elbow on his brother's shoulder, frowning in displeasure. “This is no fun.”
“No fun at all,” Kaoru agreed.
“It's not supposed to be fun,” Kyouya said firmly.
“We have the auction and the photo books,” Tamaki said quickly to forestall a fight.
Kyouya leveled him with a flat look, offering his notebook. “Would you like to see the monthly expenses for yourself? Those profits aren't nearly enough.”
Tamaki turned away quickly. Looking through Kyouya's cramped writing and his pages and pages of math was not his idea of a good time. “We'll think of something,” he declared confidently. “We always do. Our princesses will not abandon us!”
Haruhi turned towards the twins. “The club isn't open for another hour. Can't you amuse yourselves until then?”
“There's nothing interesting to do,” the boys mourned.
“I'm sure you'll think of something,” Kyouya said drolly, determined to make his point. “But the snacks--”
“You can't!” Hani protested loudly, dribbling tears all over the table while Mori hovered unhappily over him. “You wouldn't! What would you say if someone tried to take away something you loved?”
The twins laughed unpleasantly. “The only thing Kyouya loves is money.”
Hikaru put a finger to his lips, jeering. “Maybe if he had a girlfriend it would loosen him up.”
“Someone to distract him from being all boring,” Kaoru agreed.
Haruhi tried to hide a fleeting smile behind her hand. “It's difficult imagining Kyouya with a girlfriend,” she admitted.
If Kyouya was offended, he didn't show it.
“Kyo doesn't seem interested in girls,” Hani said innocently.
“Or anybody, for that matter,” Haruhi muttered, pouring more tea for Hani.
Mori nodded in silent agreement.
Kyouya gave a quiet sigh. “Can we get back to the conversation at hand?”
The twins' faces lit up suddenly in identical grins as their minds worked furiously in unison. “Ah~ Kyouya is so cold,” they sang. “And no fun. You don't even play most of our games.”
Kyouya shifted his glasses with his finger, mouth pulling down slightly in the first sign of irritation. “They're a waste of time.”
“Hmm~ Okay, then.” The twins pointed at Kyouya suddenly. “All right! Time for a new game. The Seduction of Kyouya Gaaame!”
There was a brief moment of stunned silence.
Kyouya's eye twitched violently in annoyance. He abruptly opened his notepad and began scribbling, clearly washing his hands of the whole ordeal. “No such game will take place,” he said as if writing it into law.
“Oh?” Hani slid off his chair, staring at the twins with wide eyes. “The game is about Kyouya?”
“Kyouya obviously needs something to occupy his mind other than the budget,” Hikaru said with a smirk.
“And it would be fun to see Kyouya in a lovey-dovey situation, wouldn't it?” Kaoru snickered.
Haruhi looked from the twins to Kyouya with her mouth open. “They're serious.”
“It would be fun,” Hani declared, earning an incredulous look from Haruhi. He smiled up at her sunnily. “Well, wouldn't it?”
“Um.” Haruhi risked a quick glance towards Kyouya. “I don't think he wants to play. This kind of game seems kind of--”
Kaoru made tsking noises. “Oh, it's exactly his kind of game. The prize will be worth it.”
“The losers have to donate 240,000 yen apiece.” Hikaru's grin was triumphant. “That'll help with your stupid budget.”
Kyouya's pen paused in its furious scribbling.
“Wait a minute!” Haruhi yelled desperately. “I don't have--”
“The winner,” Hikaru continued, ignoring her outburst, “gets to spend the weekend with Haruhi tooootally alone!”
Tamaki's head snapped up.
Haruhi's voice rose angrily. “Don't decide things for yourselves! I never agreed to that!”
“Of course, Haruhi can't afford the loser's penalty,” Kaoru sighed theatrically. “So in the highly unlikely chance she wins, she gets a plate full of the best otoro money can buy.”
Haruhi faltered. “A whole plate?”
Both twins spread their arms wide. “A platter thiiiiis big, all to yourself.”
Haruhi stared at their arms, visibly struggling with her greed. The twins exchanged a smirk, knowing their bait had been snatched. “So...” Haruhi carefully did not look Kyouya's way, “we just need to find Kyouya a girlfriend and we win?”
The brothers made a loud incorrect buzzer noise. “Since when are any of our games extended to non-members of the club?”
The full meaning behind the game finally struck home, and Haruhi's eyes widened. “You mean-- us? We have to--” She stopped, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
“That's right. First one to get Kyouya to actually reciprocate wins!” Hikaru shrugged. “We get two weeks. Easy peasy, right?”
“Easy peasy,” Kaoru agreed.
They both grinned like devils.
“This will be fun!” Hani cried. “Right, Tamaki?”
Tamaki blinked, glancing around at them. It was easy to tell he'd been off in his own world again. “Eh? Fun?”
Kyouya's grip tightened on his pen. “This is an unnecessary and ridiculous--”
“GAME START!”
The pen gave under the pressure and snapped loudly in half.
~*~
The twins' attention span was short, Kyouya grimly reminded himself later that afternoon. He smiled in an automatic polite response to something one of his regulars had said, but he wasn't sure what on earth she was actually talking about. His main concern right now was making sure this idiotic game didn't continue.
More often than not, things quickly became boring for the brothers. It wasn't unusual for them to give up on a game that wasn't as exciting as they'd hoped. And as soon as they lost interest, the others would, too. Within a day or two this would all blow over. The losers' penalty had been the only remotely interesting thing about the whole thing. But he was not about to participate in such an outlandish plan just to fix their budget. The strict rules surrounding clubs and their budgets had once been an interesting challenge to get around. But with the fallout from Haruhi's gender revelation, they were facing the same kind of financial difficulties they had when the club had first been formed. He could find a loophole that would enable him to accept the losers' pot as some sort of donation or fee, he was sure of it.
If he was honest, he had not been expecting things to turn out as badly as they had. Losing a chunk of customers hurt. They might have been able to get past that, but he had to take into account the unavoidable fact that both Hani and Mori would be graduating at the end of the year, and that would cost them even more customers. Replacing them would be troublesome. He would have to speak with Tamaki about headhunting soon.
He glanced across the room. Tamaki was surrounded by his own regulars, stroking the hair of the girl on his left, a sappy smile on his dumb face. At least he seemed more like himself right now. He'd been acting like a kicked puppy since shortly after they'd pulled him back from that whole fiasco with Eclaire. At first Kyouya had chalked it up to home troubles. Surely his grandmother was furious. Perhaps his father as well. And he'd lost the chance to go back to France and see his mother.
But there was more to it than that, Kyouya was certain. Tamaki had always had surprisingly thick skin when it came to how his family treated him. No, this was something else.
Kyouya's attention turned to the other side of the room, where Haruhi was seated with two of the only regulars who still bothered to ask for her. Something was off between Haruhi and Tamaki. She wasn't quite avoiding him, but there was still some distance there. And Tamaki, surprisingly, seemed to be trying his level best to allow her quiet withdrawal. She spent more time with the twins now, and the few times Tamaki got touchy-feely with Haruhi nowadays he seemed to catch himself and deliberately back away. And if he forgot himself, Hikaru was always quick to intervene and practically push the taller boy back. It was as if Tamaki's obvious attempts at distance were giving Hikaru the boldness to step forward in his place.
Kyouya couldn't help but feel personally insulted. He'd done his damnedest to get the idiot to recognize his own feelings, and this was how it had ended up? Unbelievable.
Never mind those fools, he told himself firmly, already drawing up the budget in his head. He needed to figure out a way to keep this club going, because Tamaki certainly wasn't going to do it.
“Are you feeling well, Kyouya?”
He hastily jerked his attention back to the girls at his table, plastering a fake smile on. “Yes. Pardon me.” He clasped his hands on the table and met the girl's eyes to show he was paying attention. Inwardly, he grimaced. He was not as good at this as Tamaki, who would have quickly made up for the social blunder with flowering words and soft touches. He'd say something stupid like “I was lost in a world where you and I were the only two souls left together to spend eternity in each other's arms”.
Or something equally gag-worthy.
What made such nonsense even more unbearable was the underlying sincerity in Tamaki's words when he spoke to the girls. Kyouya could never decide if he found such unabashed naked emotion a disgrace or something to grudgingly admire. He found his eyes had drifted unconsciously towards the King's table once more, and hastily returned his attention to his clients.
“Kyo!”
Kyouya turned slightly to lift a brow at the bubbling boy who had appeared at his elbow. “What is it, Haninozuka?”
Hunny offered up a plate containing a ridiculously large slice of strawberry cake, wearing his best winning smile. “Would you like to share my cake with me?”
The girls at the table were giggling in delight at the unexpected appearance of the club's most adorable member, so Kyouya decided it was safe to ignore them for a moment. Still, appearances must be upheld. He kept his tone cordial rather than let his confusion show. “No thank you.” Hani knew he did not care much for sweets. Where was this coming from? Hani didn't usually like sharing his precious treats with anyone.
“No?” Hani's lip jutted out in a pout. “But it's my favorite. I think you'd realllly like it!”
“Hani, would you like to sit with us?” one of the girls asked eagerly. She scooted over to leave a space. “You two can eat it here.”
“Actually, I thought maybe... we could eat it... over there...” Hani swayed in place, eyes darting repeatedly towards an empty secluded table by the window.
Kyouya stared at him, nonplussed, then checked automatically to see where the hell Mori was. He was with customers, very pointedly not looking Hani's way.
As if giving him privacy.
Kyouya felt a spark of annoyance.
The game.
The stupid game. Was that what this was about? Was this Hani's ludicrous attempt at seduction? Kyouya shifted his gaze towards the twins, who were hiding behind a couch and watching with glee.
I could probably make it look like an accident, Kyouya thought grimly. Or just hide their bodies where no one would ever find them.
Hani seemed to realize that Kyouya wasn't budging, so he climbed up onto the seat beside him and nudged the cake towards him encouragingly. “Here, you can have the first bite!” he offered cheerily.
Kyouya stared down at the cake helplessly. Bluntly saying “I don't want it” would not make a good impression on the customers. But he had no interest in choking down a forkful of sugar just to save face in front of them. Hani was practically dancing with childish impatience in his seat.
These were the only weapons in Hani's arsenal: cute little boy tactics and the offering of his cherished desserts. And neither would have any effect on Kyouya.
Despite his irritation about the situation, mentally Kyouya marked Hani off the list of potential winners of the twins' sad attempt at amusement and added an extra ¥240,000 to the budget. Which was almost enough to improve his mood.
Perhaps there was still a way out of this that could more or less keep his dignity intact. Reacting would only spur the twins on. Why not let them all lose and grab all the money for the budget? All he had to do was keep a straight face and deal with nonsense like cakes and the occasional suggestive remark. For over a million yen, he could tolerate that for two weeks.
Surely.
Hani was still gazing at him with sparkling eyes, smiling encouragingly as he waited for Kyouya to dig in. Every now and then his eyes flickered towards the plump strawberries in the frosting. It was clearly taking every ounce of self control to keep from stealing his treat back.
Kyouya stared back, trying to decide on the most polite way to decline without looking like an ass in front of the girls.
Mori came to his rescue at last, perhaps sensing his cousin's impending failure and hoping to help him save face. “Mitsukuni.” He hovered behind Hani's seat, face as unreadable as ever. “It's time for your nap.”
“Aww, already?” Hani dragged his gaze away from the cake. “But I was gonna share some cake with Kyo.”
“You didn't sleep much last night,” Mori pointed out. “If you don't take your nap now, you will regret it later.”
The unspoken “we'll all regret it later” hung in the air like a warning. A tired grumpy Hani was something no one wanted to deal with, much less allow the customers to witness.
“You should nap, Hani,” Haruhi instantly called out. “You can have your cake afterwards.”
Hani sighed, but leapt into Mori's arms and scrambled up to his shoulders like a spider monkey. “Good night, I'm gonna go nap now,” he announced to the room at large. “Enjoy the cake, Kyo!”
As the girls called their fond farewells to the upperclassman, Kyouya quickly slid the cake off to one side. He noted the twins scribbling in identical small notebooks, snickering to each other.
He was definitely going to get them for this later.
~*~
Tamaki was in a funk again.
He was helping Mori pack away the leftover snacks, his movements almost lethargic. Kyouya, busy typing up the brief summary he always composed after each club meeting, found his eyes tracking the other boy across the room.
Tamaki had been oddly quiet when the twins had been explaining their idiotic game. Kyouya had been too busy trying to extricate himself from the plan to notice at the time, but with the absence of the girls Tamaki's gloomy mood had returned once more.
It had been two weeks since the festival and Kyouya was beginning to feel testy.
Normally Tamaki was the type to bounce back from hardship with surprising speed. But this had been going on for far too long. Perhaps keeping Haruhi in the club was the mistake. She'd lost most of her customers. There was obvious tension between her and Tamaki. The smart thing to do would be to cancel her debt and quietly usher her out.
But that would never fly.
Everyone was too attached to her. He didn't want to deal with the backlash of all club members protesting her eviction. And if he was honest with himself, he'd grown accustomed to her presence as well. She was definitely the most interesting girl he'd met. It would be... odd not to have her around.
He'd made steps to push the two of them together. He'd thought pulling Tamaki back from Eclaire and putting Haruhi in a dress in front of the world would be the final linchpin.
But no.
All his hard work to get Tamaki to grow a spine (and a brain), and it had all gone down the drain.
What could possibly have happened to drive such a wedge between the two? Had there been a conversation between them after that festival night, far from the eyes and ears of the rest of the club?
Kyouya could guess what such a conversation would entail.
Haruhi must have let him down. Even if she'd been developing feelings for him on her own. Or perhaps because she had.
Her studies had always been important to her. She dreamed of a very specific goal and future. Did she see a romantic relationship as a stumbling block? Kyouya could approve of this. Who had time for ridiculous love confessions when you had a goal in mind? As a fellow creature of drive and ambition, he could hardly fault Haruhi for taking a step back.
But he disliked the outcome more than he cared to admit.
Watching Tamaki stumble through life with such a forlorn attitude irritated him. And it made him uncomfortable.
He was angry at Tamaki for being so weak.
He was angry at Haruhi for wiping the smile from his face.
And he was a little angry at himself for even bothering to waste his time trying to nudge them towards each other.
His feelings about the matter were complicated, but boiled more or less down to an irritation aimed unerringly at Tamaki. He'd been suppressing the desire to snap at the other boy, but his nerves were already a bit frayed thanks to the twins' newest game. Slapping his laptop closed, he got up and crossed the room to where Tamaki was staring listlessly out of the window, a box of half-eaten cake in his hands, forgotten.
“Oi.” He flicked his finger against Tamaki's brow, hard. He felt like he should say something trite like “cheer up”, but of course what came out instead was, “Hurry up. I need to lock up and get home. Some of us have better things to do with our time.”
Tamaki flinched, almost dropping the cake. “Ouch!” He set the cake aside to rub at his forehead, his eyes downcast. “Kyouya...” his voice was oddly quiet. “Is this a waste of time to you? The host club, I mean. Am I... keeping you from things that would make you happy?”
Kyouya stared at him. “That's not what I was referring to.”
“You can tell me,” Tamaki said hastily. His expression was earnest now. Almost desperate. “I won't be angry. I know this club-- and me –just ends up being a nuisance most of the ti-- ACK!”
Kyouya lifted his hand again threateningly. He hadn't hit the boy very hard, but he was tempted to. He'd felt a sudden unexpected surge of anger. How dare Tamaki drag him into this and then try to slink out of it? How dare he try to ruin this stupid insane ridiculous fun thing they'd started? “Shut up, King Idiot,” he snapped. “If I want to quit, I'll quit. This line of questioning is pointless. Just get it over with and tell me what happened between you and Haruhi.”
Tamaki's eyes widened in surprise. Automatically his gaze flashed around, but Haruhi had left already, practically dragged out by the twins some time ago. “Um... I don't know what you're talking about, Kyouya.”
Kyouya frowned at him. “Don't play dumb with me.”
“I'm not!” Even as he said it, though, Tamaki's gaze slipped away as if he couldn't make himself meet the accusing stare.
Kyouya seized his temper and throttled it, burying it deep. He disliked the fact that Tamaki was able to rile him up so easily. He thought he'd gotten over this once they'd become friends. But somehow Tamaki's foolishness this time was digging into him like a splinter. He wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake him until the truth fell out of that stupid mouth.
Instead he turned his back and strode off. “Fine. I'm going home.”
Let him play the fool, then, he thought darkly. It didn't matter. Kyouya would get to the truth one way or another.
He always did.