Large upload of scenes
Here's my complete Lawsuit series, plus other scenes I haven't gotten around to putting up here.
Number 37: Office
Lawsuit: In the Office
“Haruhi, are you free?”
Haruhi looked up from a few papers she had been discussing with one of the secretaries and turned her attention to her boss.
“Yes,” she replied after exchanging glances with Megumi-san. “Is there something you need?”
Sarada-san, one of the lawyers who owned the firm, waved her over.
“I’d like your help with a client; this case looks manageable for you, and Endo-san and I are too busy with that fashion case,” he ended with a disgruntled mutter.
Haruhi didn’t ask - hadn’t asked - about the complicated case of mixed fashion rights that two companies were arguing (loudly) over. She merely nodded, and followed along.
Sarada-san briefed her quickly about the case she was walking into - a malpractice suit; the hospital was asking their help to defend the doctor.
“Ootori-san, Kato-san, this is Fujioka,” he introduced them right away, mere seconds after opening the door on one of their larger conference rooms. “She’ll help you sort out a few things and then we’ll have a better idea of how to begin your defense. Please excuse me,” he said, and, in Haruhi’s personal opinion, scooted out much faster than was normal or polite.
Turning to the two men, she bowed. “I’m honored to work with you,” she said automatically, trained to treat all of their clients with respect in speech as well as action. However, the words seemed to catch at the dark-haired man’s attention, and he straightened up, looking at her in a critical manner.
“Could I look over the filed suit?” she asked, and was a little surprised when the paler man, with light brown hair produced the papers, a little wrinkled, from his coat.
Haruhi took her first good look at him, and realized that he was wearing a lab coat, rather than a suit jacket like the other man.
“Kato-san is one of our surgeons,” Ootori-san inserted quietly. “I am in charge of the surgeons,” he added, as thought to explain his presence.
“How long have you worked here?” he asked abruptly, and though the question was quite rude, she answered evenly.
“I’ve been with Sarada-san and Endo-san for two years, and my internship through university was with them before that,” she said, meanwhile smoothing out the papers from Kato-san.
Ootori-san nodded, looking a bit distracted.
Haruhi read over the complaint lodged by one of Kato-sensei’s patients, and the doctor’s own report about the case. She was aware of at least one pair of eyes on her the whole time, but concentrated on examining the problem at hand.
After reading it through carefully, there seemed to be nothing that would be a problem for her, but that could change as the legal process went on.
“Until Kazuma-san contacts us about a court date, we’ll wait to schedule our next consultation,” she began to explain, pulling out a few forms they would need to begin the necessary paperwork, when a phone began to ring.
Ootori-san checked it, and then apologized. “Please excuse me; I need to take this,” he said and left the room.
“Ah, Kato-san, if you could fill this out, as well,” Haruhi said, handing him another sheet.
“You didn’t realize, did you,” that man said, instead, and Haruhi paused to look at him, confused.
“Ootori-san, I mean” he clarified, shooting a glance at the closed door. “He’s not just in charge of the surgeons; he’s in charge of all the surgeons, at all the hospitals.”
When her face still didn’t clear, he sighed with exasperation.
“Ootori Kyouya,” he emphasized. “One of Ootori-san’s sons.”
Haruhi finally made the connection he meant; the Ootori name in medical fields was practically a brand name, but she shrugged despite that, still not understanding why he had brought it up.
“Does that change your case somehow?” she asked, wondering if he was worried about his position. He gave her an uncertain look.
“No…” he hedged, seeming confused himself, by her question and lack of reaction.
“Ah, good,” she said. “You’ll still need to fill these out.”
He took the papers she handed him this time, but after taking a pen, just stared at her, lost.
“Excuse my rudeness.” Ootori-san’s voice brought Kato-san back to earth, and with a start, he bent his head over the papers with apt attention.
“It was no problem,” Haruhi told him easily, and handed over very similar papers to Ootori-san. “Now, if you would just look over our basic contract here…”
Number 44: Benign
Lawsuit: Patience
"Kyouya, is there something you're not telling me about Kato's case?" his father asked him one day as their corporate meeting let out.
Kyouya, ready to leave to attend his next business, changed his stance and faced his father, ignoring his brother's curious looks.
"No," he responded, and then tilted his head, a fraction of an inch to the side. "Is something wrong?"
Ootir Yoshi analyzed his son, just a little proud of that calm face.
"You've never shown such attention to a malpractice suit before," he finally commented. "It's concerned a few of our investors. And I must admit some interest as well."
Kyouya stiffened, not having previously considered what it might mean if his father was wondering about his division - or more precisely, his business.
"There is nothing to be worried about with Kato," he assured his father. "I'm merely finding the legal process quite intriguing."
And he hoped that that would be the end of his father's curiosity.
But three days later, he heard his brothers talking at the breakfast table, before he walked through the door.
"A girl?" The incredulous voice was his second-oldest brother.
"That is what father said," a calmer, more rational voice replied - his eldest brother.
"But Kyouya never notices women..."
He hadn't stayed to listen to any more - it was enough to cause mild panic that his father would have gone so far as to investigate the firm and find out about Fujioka.
He didn't want to guess at what he might have said to Sarada-san or Endo-san, or even (please, no) Fujioka-san.
And yet, despite his trepidation and the caution that pounded in his rational mind, he went to the next meeting a day later.
Fujioka was the same as ever - focused, professional - and utterly fascinating. She was also, as usual, utterly unaware of his observations.
For now, he was perfectly fine with that, Kyouya thought, watching as a long strand of hair, fallen from the sloppy bun, was pushed roughtly behind her ear.
He took a few notes and proceeded to observe.
Fascinating.
Number 98: Persist
Lawsuit: Conflicting Interests
Kyouya had attended every meeting with their lawyer, though technically, only Kato-san had been necessary for the later sessions.
The truth was, he admitted three weeks to the day they’d met, he couldn’t stop himself.
At first he had been irritated that Sarada-san would dare to put a request from the Ootori organization onto a rookie’s plate, and had even intended to take their case and money elsewhere.. but then Fujioka-san had entered the picture… and he couldn’t help but go, every single time.
It was making Kato-san nervous - even more nervous than normal; his (close) attention to the case was unprecedented.
Kato-san was always anxious over something or another, but he was a brilliant surgeon. It was the only reason why Kyouya had decided to keep him on, even through the mess of a malpractice suit.
“The court date has been set a little over a month from now,” Fujioka was saying as he entered the room.
Her dark brown eyes flicked to him, acknowledging his arrival, and then away. As she continued to explain the progress, he took in her hair, done up in the usual sloppy bun; after the first few hours of looking at her, he’d wondered why she kept it so long when she obviously didn’t care about it.
Wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, smudged from being pushed up by absent fingers.
… And he was looking far too closely for comfort. Kyouya turned his attention determinedly to what she was saying.
“Unless Suzuki-san finds some medical evidence that supports his claims, there should be nothing to worry about,” she assured them.
“Be certain of that, Fujioka,” Sarada-san warned. “Ootori-san, good to see you,” he greeted the younger man, in a much lighter tone.
Kyouya talked with him for a few moments, for the sake of the company’s relationship with thefirm, but aware all the while of Kato speaking privately with Fujioka. She patted his arm after a minute and he looked relieved, and with a final glance at his “absorbed” boss, he left.
Kyouya deftly wrapped up Sarada’s conversation for him with the skill of a master; the older associate was smiling as he slid out the door a step after Fujioka.
“Fujioka-san, I appreciate your efforts on our behalf,” he called out to her, inwardly pleased when she slowed down to walk at his side - first goal accomplished.
“It’s my job,” she said, a little surprised by the effort he had been putting in.
“Still,” he insisted. “it isn’t often that one of our cases is wrapped up so easily.”
“It’s not won yet,” she cautioned him, but he waved her concerns aside with one slender hand.
“All the evidence support’s Kato, and you’ve found a strong point to defend from,” he said; nothing she didn’t already know, but it was rare that Kyouya was impressed.
Haruhi shrugged, a little uncomfortable with the praise - but then, she always was.
“Is there any chance you would be free for dinner tomorrow night?” he asked, and his tone was so casual it took a few moments for the words to sink in.
She stopped walking, staring at him in surprise.
“We’re not encouraged to associate with clients outside of the office,” she told him; the invisible rule the first objection to pop into her head. “Not like that, I mean,” she explained, becoming just a little flustered by her own confusion.
But it had come from nowhere, she thought, reassured.
Kyouya took his time in considering her response, for all that it was a refusal, keeping pace with her as she strode down the main hallway.
“What about when our case is over?” he finally asked softly, and Haruhi’s attention was jerked back up to him.
Realizing that he was quite serious, she could only shrug, wondering why he wanted to bother.
“Well, then.” He bowed respectfully. “I will see you in a month.”
Number 24: String
Lawsuit: Red String of Fate
The case had gone almost exactly to plan, and Haruhi was feeling the odd rush that came with a job well done.
She was also exhausted; some new evidence had been brought forward days before their court date, and it had taken a few sleepless nights to prove that the x-rays were not from the time when Suzuki-san had been under Kato-sensei’s care.
“Congratulations,” came a low, unfamiliar voice, and Haruhi turned to find Ootori-san standing there, looking obnoxiously relaxed.
His confidence could be construed as flattering, at the very least, she thought wryly, and wondered how long he had been present. Even though it hadn’t been necessary for him to be a part of the actual trail proceedings, she had been sure, from the type of personality he’d displayed, that he would be there, needing to oversee everything.
“I’m sorry I was late,” he apologized unexpectedly, confirming that he had been planning to be there the whole time. “There was an emergency at the hospital.”
“It was fine,” she said, without really thinking. “We didn’t need you.”
His eyes creased - in another man, it would have been a smile, but she still shook her head.
“That wasn’t what I meant,” she apologized, just a tad frustrated that her words never came out exactly as they should with this man.
“No, no, please be honest,” he insisted, and it took her a moment to understand that he was joking.
Haruhi didn’t know what to make of it, or him.
“I was going to suggest dinner,” he continued, “but you don’t look hungry.”
She was just a tad bit annoyed at his perceptiveness, and also the polite maneuvering of implying but not saying that she looked tired, as well as the allusion to his previous invitation.
“Tomorrow,” he said, smiling slightly when she gave him a confused look. “Six o’clock.”
“It’s my day off!” she protested, scrambling for some refusal he would take.
“Perfect,” he murmured instead, before moving off to talk to Kato-san.
“Haruhi felt the inevitable like a door clanging shut behind her, and wondered why, out of all the arrogant, upper class men in Tokyo, she had to be continuously thrown off balance by that one.
Number 43: Joke
Lawsuit: (You've Got to Be) Joking
The first time Kyouya saw Haruhi in a dress, he nearly spit out his wine onto the pristine white tablecloth in front of him.
It wasn’t so much the shock of the dress, but the shock of not recognizing her on the first look, she was that… different.
He forced his eyes away, swallowed, and then turned back around.
The fact that she was wearing a dress in the first place was enough to make him blink, but he noted that her hair was down and flowed in loose curls around her face.
For once, he couldn’t make a decision - he didn’t know what to look (stare) at, or if he should try to recover his manners and not look at all.
His gaze went to her legs and the decision was made for him; Haruhi’s normal wardrobe consisted of baggy slacks, a button up shirt covered by a jacket, and her hair shoved up in any way that would hold. If not for the long hair and wide eyes, she would’ve fit right in with the rest of her male colleagues, most days.
The figure she was revealing tonight, though, could never be mistaken for a man’s.
The host escorting her to his table seemed to be surreptitiously noticing that, too.
Kyouya glared at him, and lost the last few seconds of observing her before she sat down.
Despite how nicely she was dressed, she looked haggard.
“Sorry I’m late,” she apologized, having missed his perusal and the ensuing possessive male defense. “I got caught up with a case, and then…” She sighed, and then touched her hair self-consciously.
“And then?” he prompted, back in control now that there wasn't so much to distract him.
“My father was home,” she muttered, and shoved a curl behind her ear as though to punish it for her changed appearance.
“I see,” Kyouya murmured - and he did. Having met Fujioka senior once when he’d gone to pick her up, he’d suddenly understood a bit more about Haruhi’s demure look.
It was a passive - but powerful - resistance to her father’s effeminate ways.
“What was the case about?” he asked, and she gratefully took up the subject of work as the first course came.
She would only accept his paying for meals, so he was, week by week, taking her to every nice restaurant in town. Surprisingly enough, Haruhi seemed to enjoy it.
They’d moved on to other things (and the main course) when Kyouya spotted someone else, and wished he had picked a less conspicuous place to eat this week.
There was no way he could ignore him or avoid speaking with him, especially not as the man was approaching with yet another acquaintance on his arm.
“Ootori-san, good evening,” he said, voice smooth and light, face alive with curiosity. "It's been a while."
Kyouya gave a small sigh, standing up to extend a hand. "It has." And as manners dictated, he began the introductions.
"Haruhi, this is Suou-san. Suou-san, this is Fujioka-san."
"It's wonderful to meet you," the blonde enthused immediately, taking Haruhi's hand and shaking it eagerly. "I've never seen Ootori-san willingly take a woman out to dinner," he added, winking outrageously at her. "And please let me introduce Kazuki-san to you."
The woman on his arm bowed shyly, glanced in Kyouya's direction and then blushed. She didn't look at him again, but smiled easily enough at Haruhi.
Well, Kyouya thought, noticing something else with a touch of amusement, that explained why it had been so easy to break off his father's plans for an omiai with the Kazuki family; Kazuki herself had wanted something different.
Since Suou looked content to stand there with his date until more information was provided, Kyouya explained briefly how they had bet.
"Sarada and Endo?" Suou asked, surprised. "But isn't that the firm Kaoru and Hikaru are using?"
"Ah, do you mean Hitachiin-san and Hitachiin-san?" Haruhi asked, Kyouya's patience with the interruption took a nose dive.
"You've met them?" he asked sharply, disturbed at the thought of what mischief the two could wreck with Haruhi so oblivious.
"I'm helping Endo-san with the last of their paperwork," she explained, and tilted her head to the side in a way that, hair down, was utterly charming. "Do you know them?"
"Unfortunately," Kyouya muttered as he wondered who else was going to pop out of the woodwork to disrupt his evening. He scowled, and the other three took note, but didn't remark on it.
After a few more teasing remarks from Suou, they moved off to their own table and Kyouya and Haruhi sat back down.
"So..." she began. "A friend of yours?"
Kyouya made a face, and then smiled in unconscious response to her - it was probably the first time Haruhi had tried to joke with him.
He shrugged. "I suppose he's better than others."
"Oh?" she inquired, but he shook his head, determined that the rest of the evening was going to be spent talking about them.
Number 64: Rough
Haruhi was enjoying Almack’s.
She hadn’t expected to, not from the comments Lords Ootori and Hitachiin made, but because of their disgust with the sea of white-wrapped debutantes, they hadn’t shown up.
So she was blissfully free to talk to whoever she liked, and to stroll around with her glass of lemonade and turn down dance offers.
“Miss Fujioka,” came the voice of one of her hostesses. “If I may…”
Haruhi turned and smiled at the older woman, and turned a polite face to two young men, one very tall, and one very short, who stood behind her.
“I believe I have the distinct pleasure of introducing you to Lord Morinozuka and Viscount Kayrou, Lord Haninozuka,” she said, raising her eyebrows at the young woman. Haruhi didn’t remember seeing them at any other gatherings, and curtsied, wondering why she was being singled out.
As polite talk ensued, the hostess’s smile dimmed; there seemed to be nothing gossip-worthy going on between the three, and when someone else beckoned, she left with only one regretful glance.
“Miss Fujioka,” the short man bowed with a shy smile. “It’s very nice to meet you. Our friends have spoken of you so often, we felt it was necessary to seek you out.”
Inside, Haruhi’s expression froze.
“Your friends?” she inquired, hoping against hope…
“Ah, yes,” he nodded enthusiastically. “Suou-chan and Hita-chan are always talking about you.”
Haruhi wondered exactly how rude it would be if she was to back away.
“We don’t often come to town,” came a low voice, and Haruhi realized it was the first time the tall man had spoken.
“Oh?” she asked, sincere curiosity stopping her thoughts of retreat. “Then what’s the special occasion?”
The two exchanged uneasy glances, and Haruhi felt the first stirrings of compassion. They looked just like the young men who were standing around the floor, surreptitiously fingering their neck cloths, their attendance forced by hen-pecking mothers.
“Well, you see, the thing is…” Lord Haninozuka babbled, looking even more anxious. "It's not that..."
“Mitsukuni must marry,” Lord Morinozuka explained bluntly.
Haruhi blinked in surprise.
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” came the plaintive agreement from the blond, who was now slumped even lower. “I don’t even know any women except for Mother, but Father insisted that it had to be this year… so when Suou-chan talked about you, Takashi thought you might be able to help.”
The dark-haired man turned a bit red at having his suggestion stated to the woman concerned, but didn’t withdraw the words, either.
“Help?” Haruhi asked, not quite understanding.
“Yeah!” Lord Haninozuka seemed to gain confidence now that their intentions had been stated. “Because you know some women, right?”
Haruhi had a hard time, holding back an incredulous laugh.
“I suppose that’s true,” she reluctantly agreed.
“Yay!” There was no chance of not being charmed by the shorter man, who was looking like a different person new hope for himself as he neatly bounced in place. The simple faith that his problems could be solved so easily was refreshing, if not misplaced.
“Thank you,” Lord Morinozuka said, and the relieved gratitude in his expression turned Haruhi’s reluctance into sudden purpose.
Well, she thought with amused resignation, she had been wanting something to do..
Number 18: Numbered
Somehow or another, she had gotten paired with Lord Ootori at Lady Trevsham’s picnic. The estate was a little ways out of London, but the drive was always worth it (Society said) because the grounds were so beautiful.
Over lunch, Haruhi had been able to break up the conversation between the others at their table, but once the group had finished, the walk to the lake was made in pairs.
Haruhi wasn’t so remiss as to moan, but the small smile on Lord Ootori’s face did not bode well.
Polite talk was held as they walked behind a couple who had become engaged last week, until the distance became far enough between them that Kyouya could begin his interrogation.
Of course, he hadn’t considered it such at first, until Miss Fujioka began to look tired. Tired of his company, that is.
With sudden and unusual thoughtfulness, he changed the topic of her schooling to that of business, something at least her father shared him common with him. And with all the time he had spent recently near the man, he had heard enough clues dropped about this woman’s intelligence.
“Does your father plan on enlarging his holdings?” he asked, and she blinked in surprised, looking ready to give the normal (correct) response for young ladies of the ton - ‘I wouldn’t know’ - but she pursed her lips and considered him, and then looked forward to watch were they were going.
“Yes.”
Her unequivocal statement made him grin, a very odd happenstance for Kyouya, and he schooled his face before she looked back to him. “Why do you ask?”
Her bluntness, perhaps unconsciously, released him to be just as straightforward, and their conversation became quite involved, ranging from their views on the growing middle class, to the dependency on merchant ships, to the importance of demand and the quality of supplies, the place of factories and training...
After what seemed like minutes, Haruhi noticed that she hadn't seen the backs of their companions in quite some time. She looked ahead, and saw water through the trees.
Wasn't the walk to the lake supposed to take close to an hour? she wondered to herself.
She turned to ask Lord Ootori about it, and was realized he was still talking, face more animated than she had ever seen, his eyes bright and sharp with intelligence.
It was a jolt to the system, to suddenly be aware that he was attractive, and not just objectively cataloging him as handsome.
"Don't you agree?" he asked, and she nodded instictively, not wanting to interrupt him, or worse, let him notice her distraction.
"Do you think the others are far ahead?" she asked, not caring that she had abruptly changed the subject; she wasn't feeling comfortable in her skin, a very rare happenstance.
He blinked, mentally changing tracks.
"They're probably at the folly, to the right of the path near the lake," he explained, one elegant hand pointing to the place. The rest of the walk was silent, both occupied with thoughts of the other, one thinking how perfect a wife she was going to be (once she realized the inevitability of it), and the other wondering at her strange reaction to a person who had caused none in the whole of their previous acquaintance.
And yet, she can't help but be pleased that she's engaged in a real conversation, finally. And she can't help but wonder why he's hid himself until today.
Number 34: Leave
Watanuki had been surprised (and surely, someday, he would stop being surprised) by how much a wardrobe - no, scratch that - Yuuko’s wardrobe, could change a person.
Haruhi (as she had requested he call her) now looked like a cute young woman, rather than an androgynous (though still cute) young adult.
The dress Yuuko had forced on her was the height of fashion these days; Watanuki knew, because Himawari-chan had been talking about going shopping earlier that week and shown him a picture of what she'd planned to buy.
He glanced at Haruhi, and wondered how her hair could look… softer than before when he knew Yuuko had not touched it.
With a start, he realized Haruhi had stopped walking, and was looking through an intricately wrought iron gate. She pushed at it, and with a creak it opened.
With much trepidation, he followed her inside, and stared at the mansion before them with foreboding .
Haruhi glanced at him, and considered telling him it would be all right, but guessed from experience that the words would be useless in reassuring him.
“Do you sense anything?” she asked, curious to his abilities, and the reasons Ichihara-san might have sent him along with her.
“… Roses,” he finally said. “It smells like roses.”
They both glanced around. No rose bushes were in evidence, just green grass and the stately mansion’s somewhat intimidating façade.
“I see,” she said. Watanuki sent her a disbelieving look; Haruhi ignored it.
“I suppose we’ll have to ring the bell,” she decided, and strode forward. With a small yelp, Watanuki ran to catch up with her.
He didn’t hear anything when she pressed the button, but then, the house was supposedly haunted. It took a lot not to run screaming when the door opened by itself, and he suspected it had something to do with the no-nonsense aura his companion was putting out.
They stepped inside, and looked around. It was like walking into some English tearoom, Watanuki thought with awe, misgivings set aside for a moment at the sight of such civility (and lack of ghosts or spirits).
“Hey, now…!” came a surprised voice to the right, and they looked over to see a group of men staring at them. One, a blond, had stood up from a grouping of chairs, and seemed ready to walk over.
Watanuki wondered what they were doing, meeting in a haunted house, when the smell of roses suddenly got stronger, and then turned… wrong.
He covered his nose and mouth surreptitiously as the man drew closer, looking caught between a frown and delight. Watanuki didn’t miss the way his gaze darted between the young woman and himself, fluctuating moods accordingly.
“We’re closed right now,” the blond said with regret, and without thinking, Watanuki stepped slightly behind the short woman.
“Really,” Haruhi said, but her tone was more like significant doubt. “Fortunately, I’m not here as a customer.”
A cough drew their attention back to the group, and another man who was approaching. Watanuki felt a sudden shiver go down his back.
“Customer or not, it would be rude to keep you standing,” he said in pacifying tones, and Watanuki could have sworn his glasses shone at them - and not in a friendly way.
“Of course, something to drink!” the blond suddenly enthused, and then dragged Haruhi (and by association Watanuki) over to a table. “I am Tamaki, head of this charming establishment, this is Kyouya, and they are Hikaru, Kaoru, Honey and Mori,” he introduced quickly, pointing to each one. “Is there something we can get you, princess?” he asked, acting in complete opposition to his earlier words.
“Anything is fine,” Haruhi said after a pause, and within minutes the two twins, Kaoru and Hikaru, were setting out beautiful cups and plates. A shorter blond, who Watanuki had first mistaken as a child, sidled up to them.
“Do you like cake?” he asked, eyes wide and curious. Watanuki almost relaxed at the innocence radiating from him, but then he happened to meet Haruhi’s gaze over the table, and her mouth narrowed.
“I like strawberry,” she told him, and the eyes widened with sudden delight.
“Okay!” he all but shouted, and darted off. Haruhi sighed.
“Is there something we can do for you?” came the earlier voice - Kyouya - and this time Watanuki didn’t miss the suspicion in the tone.
“Yes, actually,” Haruhi said as the shortest came tripping back out with what looked like a giant slice of pink cake. “I would appreciate it if you would move on from this world.”
Number 99: Kindness
Small Kindnesses
“I’m a selfish person,” he said quietly, and Haruhi paused, an onigiri halfway to her mouth.
“Um…” she glanced around, wondering why no one else appeared to be in the close vicinity to interrupt this strange conversation. Then she realized he was waiting for a response from her. “Yes?” she tried; no one could ever claim that lying was a trait of hers.
“I’m not like Tamaki,” he continued, mostly ignoring her response as he looked out over the school lawn. “I don’t care about everyone I meet. Ninety-five percent of people are idiots.”
Haruhi set her rice ball down to rub at her forehead tiredly.
“But,” he said. “I want the people who have become important to me to be happy.”
She blinked, hand falling to her lap.
“Ahh,” she said, and he finally glanced at her, a wry look on his face.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I’m glad,” she said, and he looked surprised. “I was wondering if you would recognize it.”
He watched as she stretched back on the cool grass, apparently finished with her usual, unconsciously cryptic statements. The onigiri was retrieved and she chewed it leisurely. His mouth kicked up into an unwilling smile, and he let her enjoy the break from routine and noise.
And Kyouya wondered if she knew that he afforded her that courtesy only because she was one of his important people.
Number 37: Office
Lawsuit: In the Office
“Haruhi, are you free?”
Haruhi looked up from a few papers she had been discussing with one of the secretaries and turned her attention to her boss.
“Yes,” she replied after exchanging glances with Megumi-san. “Is there something you need?”
Sarada-san, one of the lawyers who owned the firm, waved her over.
“I’d like your help with a client; this case looks manageable for you, and Endo-san and I are too busy with that fashion case,” he ended with a disgruntled mutter.
Haruhi didn’t ask - hadn’t asked - about the complicated case of mixed fashion rights that two companies were arguing (loudly) over. She merely nodded, and followed along.
Sarada-san briefed her quickly about the case she was walking into - a malpractice suit; the hospital was asking their help to defend the doctor.
“Ootori-san, Kato-san, this is Fujioka,” he introduced them right away, mere seconds after opening the door on one of their larger conference rooms. “She’ll help you sort out a few things and then we’ll have a better idea of how to begin your defense. Please excuse me,” he said, and, in Haruhi’s personal opinion, scooted out much faster than was normal or polite.
Turning to the two men, she bowed. “I’m honored to work with you,” she said automatically, trained to treat all of their clients with respect in speech as well as action. However, the words seemed to catch at the dark-haired man’s attention, and he straightened up, looking at her in a critical manner.
“Could I look over the filed suit?” she asked, and was a little surprised when the paler man, with light brown hair produced the papers, a little wrinkled, from his coat.
Haruhi took her first good look at him, and realized that he was wearing a lab coat, rather than a suit jacket like the other man.
“Kato-san is one of our surgeons,” Ootori-san inserted quietly. “I am in charge of the surgeons,” he added, as thought to explain his presence.
“How long have you worked here?” he asked abruptly, and though the question was quite rude, she answered evenly.
“I’ve been with Sarada-san and Endo-san for two years, and my internship through university was with them before that,” she said, meanwhile smoothing out the papers from Kato-san.
Ootori-san nodded, looking a bit distracted.
Haruhi read over the complaint lodged by one of Kato-sensei’s patients, and the doctor’s own report about the case. She was aware of at least one pair of eyes on her the whole time, but concentrated on examining the problem at hand.
After reading it through carefully, there seemed to be nothing that would be a problem for her, but that could change as the legal process went on.
“Until Kazuma-san contacts us about a court date, we’ll wait to schedule our next consultation,” she began to explain, pulling out a few forms they would need to begin the necessary paperwork, when a phone began to ring.
Ootori-san checked it, and then apologized. “Please excuse me; I need to take this,” he said and left the room.
“Ah, Kato-san, if you could fill this out, as well,” Haruhi said, handing him another sheet.
“You didn’t realize, did you,” that man said, instead, and Haruhi paused to look at him, confused.
“Ootori-san, I mean” he clarified, shooting a glance at the closed door. “He’s not just in charge of the surgeons; he’s in charge of all the surgeons, at all the hospitals.”
When her face still didn’t clear, he sighed with exasperation.
“Ootori Kyouya,” he emphasized. “One of Ootori-san’s sons.”
Haruhi finally made the connection he meant; the Ootori name in medical fields was practically a brand name, but she shrugged despite that, still not understanding why he had brought it up.
“Does that change your case somehow?” she asked, wondering if he was worried about his position. He gave her an uncertain look.
“No…” he hedged, seeming confused himself, by her question and lack of reaction.
“Ah, good,” she said. “You’ll still need to fill these out.”
He took the papers she handed him this time, but after taking a pen, just stared at her, lost.
“Excuse my rudeness.” Ootori-san’s voice brought Kato-san back to earth, and with a start, he bent his head over the papers with apt attention.
“It was no problem,” Haruhi told him easily, and handed over very similar papers to Ootori-san. “Now, if you would just look over our basic contract here…”
Number 44: Benign
Lawsuit: Patience
"Kyouya, is there something you're not telling me about Kato's case?" his father asked him one day as their corporate meeting let out.
Kyouya, ready to leave to attend his next business, changed his stance and faced his father, ignoring his brother's curious looks.
"No," he responded, and then tilted his head, a fraction of an inch to the side. "Is something wrong?"
Ootir Yoshi analyzed his son, just a little proud of that calm face.
"You've never shown such attention to a malpractice suit before," he finally commented. "It's concerned a few of our investors. And I must admit some interest as well."
Kyouya stiffened, not having previously considered what it might mean if his father was wondering about his division - or more precisely, his business.
"There is nothing to be worried about with Kato," he assured his father. "I'm merely finding the legal process quite intriguing."
And he hoped that that would be the end of his father's curiosity.
But three days later, he heard his brothers talking at the breakfast table, before he walked through the door.
"A girl?" The incredulous voice was his second-oldest brother.
"That is what father said," a calmer, more rational voice replied - his eldest brother.
"But Kyouya never notices women..."
He hadn't stayed to listen to any more - it was enough to cause mild panic that his father would have gone so far as to investigate the firm and find out about Fujioka.
He didn't want to guess at what he might have said to Sarada-san or Endo-san, or even (please, no) Fujioka-san.
And yet, despite his trepidation and the caution that pounded in his rational mind, he went to the next meeting a day later.
Fujioka was the same as ever - focused, professional - and utterly fascinating. She was also, as usual, utterly unaware of his observations.
For now, he was perfectly fine with that, Kyouya thought, watching as a long strand of hair, fallen from the sloppy bun, was pushed roughtly behind her ear.
He took a few notes and proceeded to observe.
Fascinating.
Number 98: Persist
Lawsuit: Conflicting Interests
Kyouya had attended every meeting with their lawyer, though technically, only Kato-san had been necessary for the later sessions.
The truth was, he admitted three weeks to the day they’d met, he couldn’t stop himself.
At first he had been irritated that Sarada-san would dare to put a request from the Ootori organization onto a rookie’s plate, and had even intended to take their case and money elsewhere.. but then Fujioka-san had entered the picture… and he couldn’t help but go, every single time.
It was making Kato-san nervous - even more nervous than normal; his (close) attention to the case was unprecedented.
Kato-san was always anxious over something or another, but he was a brilliant surgeon. It was the only reason why Kyouya had decided to keep him on, even through the mess of a malpractice suit.
“The court date has been set a little over a month from now,” Fujioka was saying as he entered the room.
Her dark brown eyes flicked to him, acknowledging his arrival, and then away. As she continued to explain the progress, he took in her hair, done up in the usual sloppy bun; after the first few hours of looking at her, he’d wondered why she kept it so long when she obviously didn’t care about it.
Wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, smudged from being pushed up by absent fingers.
… And he was looking far too closely for comfort. Kyouya turned his attention determinedly to what she was saying.
“Unless Suzuki-san finds some medical evidence that supports his claims, there should be nothing to worry about,” she assured them.
“Be certain of that, Fujioka,” Sarada-san warned. “Ootori-san, good to see you,” he greeted the younger man, in a much lighter tone.
Kyouya talked with him for a few moments, for the sake of the company’s relationship with thefirm, but aware all the while of Kato speaking privately with Fujioka. She patted his arm after a minute and he looked relieved, and with a final glance at his “absorbed” boss, he left.
Kyouya deftly wrapped up Sarada’s conversation for him with the skill of a master; the older associate was smiling as he slid out the door a step after Fujioka.
“Fujioka-san, I appreciate your efforts on our behalf,” he called out to her, inwardly pleased when she slowed down to walk at his side - first goal accomplished.
“It’s my job,” she said, a little surprised by the effort he had been putting in.
“Still,” he insisted. “it isn’t often that one of our cases is wrapped up so easily.”
“It’s not won yet,” she cautioned him, but he waved her concerns aside with one slender hand.
“All the evidence support’s Kato, and you’ve found a strong point to defend from,” he said; nothing she didn’t already know, but it was rare that Kyouya was impressed.
Haruhi shrugged, a little uncomfortable with the praise - but then, she always was.
“Is there any chance you would be free for dinner tomorrow night?” he asked, and his tone was so casual it took a few moments for the words to sink in.
She stopped walking, staring at him in surprise.
“We’re not encouraged to associate with clients outside of the office,” she told him; the invisible rule the first objection to pop into her head. “Not like that, I mean,” she explained, becoming just a little flustered by her own confusion.
But it had come from nowhere, she thought, reassured.
Kyouya took his time in considering her response, for all that it was a refusal, keeping pace with her as she strode down the main hallway.
“What about when our case is over?” he finally asked softly, and Haruhi’s attention was jerked back up to him.
Realizing that he was quite serious, she could only shrug, wondering why he wanted to bother.
“Well, then.” He bowed respectfully. “I will see you in a month.”
Number 24: String
Lawsuit: Red String of Fate
The case had gone almost exactly to plan, and Haruhi was feeling the odd rush that came with a job well done.
She was also exhausted; some new evidence had been brought forward days before their court date, and it had taken a few sleepless nights to prove that the x-rays were not from the time when Suzuki-san had been under Kato-sensei’s care.
“Congratulations,” came a low, unfamiliar voice, and Haruhi turned to find Ootori-san standing there, looking obnoxiously relaxed.
His confidence could be construed as flattering, at the very least, she thought wryly, and wondered how long he had been present. Even though it hadn’t been necessary for him to be a part of the actual trail proceedings, she had been sure, from the type of personality he’d displayed, that he would be there, needing to oversee everything.
“I’m sorry I was late,” he apologized unexpectedly, confirming that he had been planning to be there the whole time. “There was an emergency at the hospital.”
“It was fine,” she said, without really thinking. “We didn’t need you.”
His eyes creased - in another man, it would have been a smile, but she still shook her head.
“That wasn’t what I meant,” she apologized, just a tad frustrated that her words never came out exactly as they should with this man.
“No, no, please be honest,” he insisted, and it took her a moment to understand that he was joking.
Haruhi didn’t know what to make of it, or him.
“I was going to suggest dinner,” he continued, “but you don’t look hungry.”
She was just a tad bit annoyed at his perceptiveness, and also the polite maneuvering of implying but not saying that she looked tired, as well as the allusion to his previous invitation.
“Tomorrow,” he said, smiling slightly when she gave him a confused look. “Six o’clock.”
“It’s my day off!” she protested, scrambling for some refusal he would take.
“Perfect,” he murmured instead, before moving off to talk to Kato-san.
“Haruhi felt the inevitable like a door clanging shut behind her, and wondered why, out of all the arrogant, upper class men in Tokyo, she had to be continuously thrown off balance by that one.
Number 43: Joke
Lawsuit: (You've Got to Be) Joking
The first time Kyouya saw Haruhi in a dress, he nearly spit out his wine onto the pristine white tablecloth in front of him.
It wasn’t so much the shock of the dress, but the shock of not recognizing her on the first look, she was that… different.
He forced his eyes away, swallowed, and then turned back around.
The fact that she was wearing a dress in the first place was enough to make him blink, but he noted that her hair was down and flowed in loose curls around her face.
For once, he couldn’t make a decision - he didn’t know what to look (stare) at, or if he should try to recover his manners and not look at all.
His gaze went to her legs and the decision was made for him; Haruhi’s normal wardrobe consisted of baggy slacks, a button up shirt covered by a jacket, and her hair shoved up in any way that would hold. If not for the long hair and wide eyes, she would’ve fit right in with the rest of her male colleagues, most days.
The figure she was revealing tonight, though, could never be mistaken for a man’s.
The host escorting her to his table seemed to be surreptitiously noticing that, too.
Kyouya glared at him, and lost the last few seconds of observing her before she sat down.
Despite how nicely she was dressed, she looked haggard.
“Sorry I’m late,” she apologized, having missed his perusal and the ensuing possessive male defense. “I got caught up with a case, and then…” She sighed, and then touched her hair self-consciously.
“And then?” he prompted, back in control now that there wasn't so much to distract him.
“My father was home,” she muttered, and shoved a curl behind her ear as though to punish it for her changed appearance.
“I see,” Kyouya murmured - and he did. Having met Fujioka senior once when he’d gone to pick her up, he’d suddenly understood a bit more about Haruhi’s demure look.
It was a passive - but powerful - resistance to her father’s effeminate ways.
“What was the case about?” he asked, and she gratefully took up the subject of work as the first course came.
She would only accept his paying for meals, so he was, week by week, taking her to every nice restaurant in town. Surprisingly enough, Haruhi seemed to enjoy it.
They’d moved on to other things (and the main course) when Kyouya spotted someone else, and wished he had picked a less conspicuous place to eat this week.
There was no way he could ignore him or avoid speaking with him, especially not as the man was approaching with yet another acquaintance on his arm.
“Ootori-san, good evening,” he said, voice smooth and light, face alive with curiosity. "It's been a while."
Kyouya gave a small sigh, standing up to extend a hand. "It has." And as manners dictated, he began the introductions.
"Haruhi, this is Suou-san. Suou-san, this is Fujioka-san."
"It's wonderful to meet you," the blonde enthused immediately, taking Haruhi's hand and shaking it eagerly. "I've never seen Ootori-san willingly take a woman out to dinner," he added, winking outrageously at her. "And please let me introduce Kazuki-san to you."
The woman on his arm bowed shyly, glanced in Kyouya's direction and then blushed. She didn't look at him again, but smiled easily enough at Haruhi.
Well, Kyouya thought, noticing something else with a touch of amusement, that explained why it had been so easy to break off his father's plans for an omiai with the Kazuki family; Kazuki herself had wanted something different.
Since Suou looked content to stand there with his date until more information was provided, Kyouya explained briefly how they had bet.
"Sarada and Endo?" Suou asked, surprised. "But isn't that the firm Kaoru and Hikaru are using?"
"Ah, do you mean Hitachiin-san and Hitachiin-san?" Haruhi asked, Kyouya's patience with the interruption took a nose dive.
"You've met them?" he asked sharply, disturbed at the thought of what mischief the two could wreck with Haruhi so oblivious.
"I'm helping Endo-san with the last of their paperwork," she explained, and tilted her head to the side in a way that, hair down, was utterly charming. "Do you know them?"
"Unfortunately," Kyouya muttered as he wondered who else was going to pop out of the woodwork to disrupt his evening. He scowled, and the other three took note, but didn't remark on it.
After a few more teasing remarks from Suou, they moved off to their own table and Kyouya and Haruhi sat back down.
"So..." she began. "A friend of yours?"
Kyouya made a face, and then smiled in unconscious response to her - it was probably the first time Haruhi had tried to joke with him.
He shrugged. "I suppose he's better than others."
"Oh?" she inquired, but he shook his head, determined that the rest of the evening was going to be spent talking about them.
Number 64: Rough
Haruhi was enjoying Almack’s.
She hadn’t expected to, not from the comments Lords Ootori and Hitachiin made, but because of their disgust with the sea of white-wrapped debutantes, they hadn’t shown up.
So she was blissfully free to talk to whoever she liked, and to stroll around with her glass of lemonade and turn down dance offers.
“Miss Fujioka,” came the voice of one of her hostesses. “If I may…”
Haruhi turned and smiled at the older woman, and turned a polite face to two young men, one very tall, and one very short, who stood behind her.
“I believe I have the distinct pleasure of introducing you to Lord Morinozuka and Viscount Kayrou, Lord Haninozuka,” she said, raising her eyebrows at the young woman. Haruhi didn’t remember seeing them at any other gatherings, and curtsied, wondering why she was being singled out.
As polite talk ensued, the hostess’s smile dimmed; there seemed to be nothing gossip-worthy going on between the three, and when someone else beckoned, she left with only one regretful glance.
“Miss Fujioka,” the short man bowed with a shy smile. “It’s very nice to meet you. Our friends have spoken of you so often, we felt it was necessary to seek you out.”
Inside, Haruhi’s expression froze.
“Your friends?” she inquired, hoping against hope…
“Ah, yes,” he nodded enthusiastically. “Suou-chan and Hita-chan are always talking about you.”
Haruhi wondered exactly how rude it would be if she was to back away.
“We don’t often come to town,” came a low voice, and Haruhi realized it was the first time the tall man had spoken.
“Oh?” she asked, sincere curiosity stopping her thoughts of retreat. “Then what’s the special occasion?”
The two exchanged uneasy glances, and Haruhi felt the first stirrings of compassion. They looked just like the young men who were standing around the floor, surreptitiously fingering their neck cloths, their attendance forced by hen-pecking mothers.
“Well, you see, the thing is…” Lord Haninozuka babbled, looking even more anxious. "It's not that..."
“Mitsukuni must marry,” Lord Morinozuka explained bluntly.
Haruhi blinked in surprise.
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” came the plaintive agreement from the blond, who was now slumped even lower. “I don’t even know any women except for Mother, but Father insisted that it had to be this year… so when Suou-chan talked about you, Takashi thought you might be able to help.”
The dark-haired man turned a bit red at having his suggestion stated to the woman concerned, but didn’t withdraw the words, either.
“Help?” Haruhi asked, not quite understanding.
“Yeah!” Lord Haninozuka seemed to gain confidence now that their intentions had been stated. “Because you know some women, right?”
Haruhi had a hard time, holding back an incredulous laugh.
“I suppose that’s true,” she reluctantly agreed.
“Yay!” There was no chance of not being charmed by the shorter man, who was looking like a different person new hope for himself as he neatly bounced in place. The simple faith that his problems could be solved so easily was refreshing, if not misplaced.
“Thank you,” Lord Morinozuka said, and the relieved gratitude in his expression turned Haruhi’s reluctance into sudden purpose.
Well, she thought with amused resignation, she had been wanting something to do..
Number 18: Numbered
Somehow or another, she had gotten paired with Lord Ootori at Lady Trevsham’s picnic. The estate was a little ways out of London, but the drive was always worth it (Society said) because the grounds were so beautiful.
Over lunch, Haruhi had been able to break up the conversation between the others at their table, but once the group had finished, the walk to the lake was made in pairs.
Haruhi wasn’t so remiss as to moan, but the small smile on Lord Ootori’s face did not bode well.
Polite talk was held as they walked behind a couple who had become engaged last week, until the distance became far enough between them that Kyouya could begin his interrogation.
Of course, he hadn’t considered it such at first, until Miss Fujioka began to look tired. Tired of his company, that is.
With sudden and unusual thoughtfulness, he changed the topic of her schooling to that of business, something at least her father shared him common with him. And with all the time he had spent recently near the man, he had heard enough clues dropped about this woman’s intelligence.
“Does your father plan on enlarging his holdings?” he asked, and she blinked in surprised, looking ready to give the normal (correct) response for young ladies of the ton - ‘I wouldn’t know’ - but she pursed her lips and considered him, and then looked forward to watch were they were going.
“Yes.”
Her unequivocal statement made him grin, a very odd happenstance for Kyouya, and he schooled his face before she looked back to him. “Why do you ask?”
Her bluntness, perhaps unconsciously, released him to be just as straightforward, and their conversation became quite involved, ranging from their views on the growing middle class, to the dependency on merchant ships, to the importance of demand and the quality of supplies, the place of factories and training...
After what seemed like minutes, Haruhi noticed that she hadn't seen the backs of their companions in quite some time. She looked ahead, and saw water through the trees.
Wasn't the walk to the lake supposed to take close to an hour? she wondered to herself.
She turned to ask Lord Ootori about it, and was realized he was still talking, face more animated than she had ever seen, his eyes bright and sharp with intelligence.
It was a jolt to the system, to suddenly be aware that he was attractive, and not just objectively cataloging him as handsome.
"Don't you agree?" he asked, and she nodded instictively, not wanting to interrupt him, or worse, let him notice her distraction.
"Do you think the others are far ahead?" she asked, not caring that she had abruptly changed the subject; she wasn't feeling comfortable in her skin, a very rare happenstance.
He blinked, mentally changing tracks.
"They're probably at the folly, to the right of the path near the lake," he explained, one elegant hand pointing to the place. The rest of the walk was silent, both occupied with thoughts of the other, one thinking how perfect a wife she was going to be (once she realized the inevitability of it), and the other wondering at her strange reaction to a person who had caused none in the whole of their previous acquaintance.
And yet, she can't help but be pleased that she's engaged in a real conversation, finally. And she can't help but wonder why he's hid himself until today.
Number 34: Leave
Watanuki had been surprised (and surely, someday, he would stop being surprised) by how much a wardrobe - no, scratch that - Yuuko’s wardrobe, could change a person.
Haruhi (as she had requested he call her) now looked like a cute young woman, rather than an androgynous (though still cute) young adult.
The dress Yuuko had forced on her was the height of fashion these days; Watanuki knew, because Himawari-chan had been talking about going shopping earlier that week and shown him a picture of what she'd planned to buy.
He glanced at Haruhi, and wondered how her hair could look… softer than before when he knew Yuuko had not touched it.
With a start, he realized Haruhi had stopped walking, and was looking through an intricately wrought iron gate. She pushed at it, and with a creak it opened.
With much trepidation, he followed her inside, and stared at the mansion before them with foreboding .
Haruhi glanced at him, and considered telling him it would be all right, but guessed from experience that the words would be useless in reassuring him.
“Do you sense anything?” she asked, curious to his abilities, and the reasons Ichihara-san might have sent him along with her.
“… Roses,” he finally said. “It smells like roses.”
They both glanced around. No rose bushes were in evidence, just green grass and the stately mansion’s somewhat intimidating façade.
“I see,” she said. Watanuki sent her a disbelieving look; Haruhi ignored it.
“I suppose we’ll have to ring the bell,” she decided, and strode forward. With a small yelp, Watanuki ran to catch up with her.
He didn’t hear anything when she pressed the button, but then, the house was supposedly haunted. It took a lot not to run screaming when the door opened by itself, and he suspected it had something to do with the no-nonsense aura his companion was putting out.
They stepped inside, and looked around. It was like walking into some English tearoom, Watanuki thought with awe, misgivings set aside for a moment at the sight of such civility (and lack of ghosts or spirits).
“Hey, now…!” came a surprised voice to the right, and they looked over to see a group of men staring at them. One, a blond, had stood up from a grouping of chairs, and seemed ready to walk over.
Watanuki wondered what they were doing, meeting in a haunted house, when the smell of roses suddenly got stronger, and then turned… wrong.
He covered his nose and mouth surreptitiously as the man drew closer, looking caught between a frown and delight. Watanuki didn’t miss the way his gaze darted between the young woman and himself, fluctuating moods accordingly.
“We’re closed right now,” the blond said with regret, and without thinking, Watanuki stepped slightly behind the short woman.
“Really,” Haruhi said, but her tone was more like significant doubt. “Fortunately, I’m not here as a customer.”
A cough drew their attention back to the group, and another man who was approaching. Watanuki felt a sudden shiver go down his back.
“Customer or not, it would be rude to keep you standing,” he said in pacifying tones, and Watanuki could have sworn his glasses shone at them - and not in a friendly way.
“Of course, something to drink!” the blond suddenly enthused, and then dragged Haruhi (and by association Watanuki) over to a table. “I am Tamaki, head of this charming establishment, this is Kyouya, and they are Hikaru, Kaoru, Honey and Mori,” he introduced quickly, pointing to each one. “Is there something we can get you, princess?” he asked, acting in complete opposition to his earlier words.
“Anything is fine,” Haruhi said after a pause, and within minutes the two twins, Kaoru and Hikaru, were setting out beautiful cups and plates. A shorter blond, who Watanuki had first mistaken as a child, sidled up to them.
“Do you like cake?” he asked, eyes wide and curious. Watanuki almost relaxed at the innocence radiating from him, but then he happened to meet Haruhi’s gaze over the table, and her mouth narrowed.
“I like strawberry,” she told him, and the eyes widened with sudden delight.
“Okay!” he all but shouted, and darted off. Haruhi sighed.
“Is there something we can do for you?” came the earlier voice - Kyouya - and this time Watanuki didn’t miss the suspicion in the tone.
“Yes, actually,” Haruhi said as the shortest came tripping back out with what looked like a giant slice of pink cake. “I would appreciate it if you would move on from this world.”
Number 99: Kindness
Small Kindnesses
“I’m a selfish person,” he said quietly, and Haruhi paused, an onigiri halfway to her mouth.
“Um…” she glanced around, wondering why no one else appeared to be in the close vicinity to interrupt this strange conversation. Then she realized he was waiting for a response from her. “Yes?” she tried; no one could ever claim that lying was a trait of hers.
“I’m not like Tamaki,” he continued, mostly ignoring her response as he looked out over the school lawn. “I don’t care about everyone I meet. Ninety-five percent of people are idiots.”
Haruhi set her rice ball down to rub at her forehead tiredly.
“But,” he said. “I want the people who have become important to me to be happy.”
She blinked, hand falling to her lap.
“Ahh,” she said, and he finally glanced at her, a wry look on his face.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I’m glad,” she said, and he looked surprised. “I was wondering if you would recognize it.”
He watched as she stretched back on the cool grass, apparently finished with her usual, unconsciously cryptic statements. The onigiri was retrieved and she chewed it leisurely. His mouth kicked up into an unwilling smile, and he let her enjoy the break from routine and noise.
And Kyouya wondered if she knew that he afforded her that courtesy only because she was one of his important people.