Honors that Bind
My newest Ouran fic. ^_^ A oneshot inspired by the latest Ouran challenge: prepotentcy. (a state of having superior influence or dominance; passing on more than one's alloted amount of genes to offspring... well, that's a rough defintion, from what I recall of it...)
I chose to do a bit about Tamaki's grandmother, an underexplored character (because everyone hates her....a point which I'm not going to argue with...even after this piece, I still dislike her).
I got a little ambitous. o_O I played with viewpoint and different styles. I'm not sure if I managed to properly get across what I was trying to, though, so if you happen to be interested, read and tell me what you think. :D I'm going to edit it and post it in the community, maybe even my ff.net. account. :]
Enjoy! :3
[Won first place for Ouran contest's prepotency challenge ^_^]
Honors that Bind
by: shinebunny
challenge: prepotency
***
She eyed the young woman over her teacup.
‘Young woman’ was the best she could say for the lithe, almost boyish, figure across the table from her. She had brown hair cut short and a tailored pantsuit. In other words, she was not even trying to hide that she was the very epitome of androgyny. In other words, she was not a young lady.
But what else could she expect. That boy… her eyes must have steeled, for the figure across from her squirmed under her gaze. Despite his foreign appearance, her grandson was so much like his father. And him. Of course, it made sense that he should choose someone completely unsuitable as opposed to a lady.
But when she spoke, the young woman’s voice was not timid or weak, catching her off guard. It’s calm. This girl is a lawyer, right? A working woman? Of course she would be used to handling some situations. She would be good at it. She was composed. It took her a long time to manage that; she would have never, not in her twenties-
Of course, this just made this young woman even less of a lady.
“Why won’t you let us marry?”
She put down her teacup with a loud clink. Not answering.
“It doesn’t matter to me, but he’s adamant about gaining your blessing.”
“I will never give my blessing for him to marry you.”
The girl looked at her for a moment.
“Tamaki said that he thought you could understand.”
She pursed her lips.
*
Damn it, Hiroko. You wouldn’t understand.
*
“Come back next week.” She stood up. “I’m tired. I’m old and I’m frail. I need my rest.”
***
Haruhi knew that she was going to be like this. Unreasonable, steely, oozing a silent disdain.
After all, the way Haruhi saw it, the Suoh matriarch was the very definition of prepotency. The entire family, the entire corporation, defaulted to her decisions. Her opinions held more weight that the expert conclusions of the Suoh’s business experts.
And if she didn’t want them married, well, there was a chance Haruhi would not be married. Furthermore, Haruhi didn’t want to hurt Tamaki’s chances now by being pushy. The Suohs had finally embraced (all right, perhaps not that strong a word) him into their family. He was in the main mansion. He was set to inherit the business, although his grandmother never formally gave her consent, seeming only to tolerate it. If she had to postpone her wedding… well, it was an option.
Haruhi felt a headache coming on.
“She’s a beautiful woman, Haruhi, and I want her blessing.”
The look in his eyes as he uttered those words served to do nothing but sink Haruhi’s heart. She had no idea, no idea, why he wanted her approval. He was not going to receive it, no matter how much he longed for it.
“I thought… she might understand…”
The Suoh matriarch was one of the most formidable presences that Haruhi had ever encountered. Even she felt stifled, unable to breathe, in her presence. She was an old woman now, even frailer and tinier than when Haruhi had first glimpsed her, but her eyes still held their sharp chill. The presence of the cold, pure blood in her veins beat its pulse through the room.
Understand?
Understanding was not in this woman’s vocabulary.
***
Next week came. The plea was the same.
Again, she pursed her lips.
“Please don’t say no,” the young woman added desperately, obviously for her grandson’s sake. How much this girl must love him.
“I won’t allow it.”
“Just give me a chance. I’ll do - Please. You have to understand, what you’re doing to Tamaki… what you’re doing to Tamaki isn’t right. It isn’t fair. Why do you bind him like this, in yourexpectations?”
She looked down at one of her wrinkled hands. Of course it was fair.
*
You…. You just don’t understand.
I wish I could understand. How it is to be free. How it is not to be bound.
I am more bound than you’d think.
You are not bound until you constrict yourself in the layers of cloth, these layers that make it feel like you’re drowning.
*
“Yes. But you have to come again next week.”
There was dead silence. The young woman took in a shaky, disbelieving breath. She looked taken aback, as if surprised that success should come so suddenly. Or that is should come at all.
“And don’t forget my condition.”
**
“Yuzuru, this is Kyoko-san.”
She is thin, but fairly tall, almost as tall as Yuzuru. She has milk-pale skin, dark eyes, and dark hair. Her smile is slight. Her eyes gleam like a doll’s - a pleasant, unwavering expression.
“A pleasure to meet you, Kyoko-san.”
“And you, Yuzuru-san.”
“This marriage, you’ll agree, will work out nicely?”
Such hypocrisy, she thinks, such a dog.
But nonetheless, the dignified middle-aged woman, who silently sits in the corner, smiles. It’s a good thing that no one sees. It does not bode well.
**
“Is that… your husband?” the young woman asked her timidly, politely, pausing the teacup halfway up to her lips and nodding at the portrait above the old woman’s head. Her eyes were glued to it. She had not seen it before, and it surprised her.
These were notably the first words spoken that afternoon.
The old woman nonchalantly took another sip of tea.
“Yes, that is Yuzuru’s father. There’s a great resemblance.”
It was not a comment. It was a statement, a fact.
“Y-yes, there is,” she replied, stumbling a bit on her words. “And he looks so much like Tamaki, even though he ha-“ she caught herself and snapped her mouth shut.
Even though he has blond hair and blue eyes.
“Suoh blood runs strong, despite the substances which may dilute it,” was all the old woman said, taking another sip of tea.
**
“Please, Mother. She’s alive. She’s alive, and warm, and not all…. She’s different from Kyoko, I just can’t explain it.”
She knows very well what he’s trying to say: this girl is human. Her smile is warm. Her mind is not controlled by the gears that society has carefully placed there.
“You’ve dishonored your family, Yuzuru, by fooling around with her. You’ve shamed us all.”
“I didn’t ‘fool around’ with her. I love her.”
“Who told you that marriage was about love? Certainly not your father.”
He looks taken aback. “What do you mean by that?”
“You must break things off with this girl immediately. God forbid your wife should figure out.”
“I want a divorce.”
“No.”
“She’s from an aristocratic family.”
“No. You’re already married, I prohibit it.”
“I’ll divorce, and I’ll marry her.”
“You’ll marry her, but you’ll not have a way to provide for her. You’ll be a poor man, without the Suoh business.”
He looks stunned. That his mother would threaten not to give him, her only child and son, the empire that is his birthright.
“Father wouldn’t agree.”
“That’s not true. And you’re not getting a divorce. You will never speak to this harlot again.”
“She’s pregnant.”
She slaps him.
**
Yes, she mused, it was true. His blood was prepotent; it had worked down through three generations of Suohs.
***
She came back again the next week. One month, that is what the two women agreed to.
“You’re a lawyer.”
Again, it was a statement.
“Yes, I am. I work for a fairly successful firm.”
The old woman helped herself to a spoonful of sugar, her hand trembling with age. She sipped and puckered. Much too sweet. Disgusting.
“When I was a young woman, we didn’t take jobs. Especially if we were young ladies”
The young woman frowned.
The clock ticked away the rest of the hour. The old woman didn’t touch her tea again. It was too sweet now. It was too daring of her to have tried to add sugar; she had not tasted something sweet in a very long time.
*
He had such a genuine smile, one that never faded from memory even now.
And she wondered, even now, if her blush was colored in his memories, or just another scene of black and white.
She wondered if he remembered her, even now.
She would never have acted. Not then, not now, not ever.
Only honor was forever
Only legacy lasted when you were gone
*
***
Third week.
Just once more after today, the young woman repeated to herself, just one more time.
The old woman didn’t feel like drinking tea that day. She just lounged in her routine, too-big armchair, and watched the young woman sip her tea. She didn’t seem to like tea very much.
“I hope you understand the repercussions of marrying that boy,” she began. The young woman looked at her warily.
“Like what?”
“There’ll be things we expect of you. No wife of a Suoh should work as you do. You’ll have to socialize; that will be your job. Your hair, your clothing, your mannerisms, you’ll have to change them all. None are acceptable for a socialite.”
“I don’t plan to become a socialite.”
“Not only that, but have you considered the consequences this marriage will have on that boy?”
The young woman froze.
“I promised you my blessing, but I did not promise that I would not revoke the company from him.”
No response.
“It would have been better for him had he just married a nice girl that I’d picked out. It would be better for both of you.”
Finally, the young woman looked up at the old woman. Her eyes were strong and steady, even as they gazed into the other’s eyes. Eyes which were firmly set on her.
“Tamaki is himself before he is a Suoh,” she responded simply, “and so I will be.”
The old woman eyes, in return, did not flicker or change their aim.
“Young ladies shouldn’t behave like that.”
Only later did she realize what slipped out.
*
Young ladies have honor.
*
It occurred to her that honor might be standing up for what you believed in, in being strong. In that case, the thing she had clung to for the last fifty years was the thing she had the least of.
*
I can’t believe it.
Can’t believe what, Hiroko?
That you would do this.
Have I hurt you?
Don’t try and sound concerned. It’s only my pride you’ve hurt.
You…. You just don’t understand.
I wish I could understand. How it is to be free. How it is not to be bound. How it is to have options.
I am more bound than you’d think.
You are not bound until you constrict yourself in the layers of cloth, these layers that make it feel like you’re drowning.
I’ve worn kimonos also, Hiroko.
No, you don’t. You don’t wear them every day; you hardly wear them. You wear suits.
You don’t think those are constricting?
They are not a slow death.
Damn it, Hiroko. You wouldn’t understand.
I understand all too well. There are times… but I have never been untrue. I’ve honored our marriage. You have not. If I could live any way I pleased, be anything I wanted, love whom I wanted… But I can’t.
So we were taught.
We were taught to respect the responsibilities placed on us. I have no other options, but you do. Even if they are not the right options.
Hiroko…
I’ve upheld my role. You have not.
You wouldn’t understand.
You keep saying that, but it’s complete nonsense.
It’s not. It’s not. There’s more to life than blood and honor. I want to be free. I don’t want to live by these rules.
Pretty words, coming from the mouth of an adulterer.
That’s true. But… I pity you, Hiroko.
*
***
“Hello, Haruhi.”
The young woman was so startled on so many counts that her jaw dropped. There was a halfway civil greeting. Something she suspected only few received from the old woman.
And she had called her ‘Haruhi’.
Haruhi cautiously took her seat.
“You’re a commoner, aren’t you?”
This time it was an actual question. One that invited an answer instead of repelling it.
“Yes, I am.”
“Hmm.”
Haruhi fidgeted.
“You and my gra- that boy are very in love.”
“Yes.”
***
It was a good thing that her traits were not prepotent.
It was a good thing that her husband’s were, although she never thought she’d say that.
Perhaps, just perhaps, she should stop calling that French woman a harlot. Perhaps that French woman’s blood was enough to dilute the Suoh bloodline, leaving only the strength and charm. None of the suffocating, silent wake.
The strength she so admired in this girl; that must certainly be in her grandson as well.
Though she never though she’d say that.
***
“I look forward to attending your wedding.”
Haruhi was dumbfounded.
And, she could have sworn she was seeing things when the cruel lips of the old woman curled up into a tiny smile.
Haruhi could finally see the beauty that Tamaki claimed was there.
I chose to do a bit about Tamaki's grandmother, an underexplored character (because everyone hates her....a point which I'm not going to argue with...even after this piece, I still dislike her).
I got a little ambitous. o_O I played with viewpoint and different styles. I'm not sure if I managed to properly get across what I was trying to, though, so if you happen to be interested, read and tell me what you think. :D I'm going to edit it and post it in the community, maybe even my ff.net. account. :]
Enjoy! :3
[Won first place for Ouran contest's prepotency challenge ^_^]
Honors that Bind
by: shinebunny
challenge: prepotency
***
She eyed the young woman over her teacup.
‘Young woman’ was the best she could say for the lithe, almost boyish, figure across the table from her. She had brown hair cut short and a tailored pantsuit. In other words, she was not even trying to hide that she was the very epitome of androgyny. In other words, she was not a young lady.
But what else could she expect. That boy… her eyes must have steeled, for the figure across from her squirmed under her gaze. Despite his foreign appearance, her grandson was so much like his father. And him. Of course, it made sense that he should choose someone completely unsuitable as opposed to a lady.
But when she spoke, the young woman’s voice was not timid or weak, catching her off guard. It’s calm. This girl is a lawyer, right? A working woman? Of course she would be used to handling some situations. She would be good at it. She was composed. It took her a long time to manage that; she would have never, not in her twenties-
Of course, this just made this young woman even less of a lady.
“Why won’t you let us marry?”
She put down her teacup with a loud clink. Not answering.
“It doesn’t matter to me, but he’s adamant about gaining your blessing.”
“I will never give my blessing for him to marry you.”
The girl looked at her for a moment.
“Tamaki said that he thought you could understand.”
She pursed her lips.
*
Damn it, Hiroko. You wouldn’t understand.
*
“Come back next week.” She stood up. “I’m tired. I’m old and I’m frail. I need my rest.”
***
Haruhi knew that she was going to be like this. Unreasonable, steely, oozing a silent disdain.
After all, the way Haruhi saw it, the Suoh matriarch was the very definition of prepotency. The entire family, the entire corporation, defaulted to her decisions. Her opinions held more weight that the expert conclusions of the Suoh’s business experts.
And if she didn’t want them married, well, there was a chance Haruhi would not be married. Furthermore, Haruhi didn’t want to hurt Tamaki’s chances now by being pushy. The Suohs had finally embraced (all right, perhaps not that strong a word) him into their family. He was in the main mansion. He was set to inherit the business, although his grandmother never formally gave her consent, seeming only to tolerate it. If she had to postpone her wedding… well, it was an option.
Haruhi felt a headache coming on.
“She’s a beautiful woman, Haruhi, and I want her blessing.”
The look in his eyes as he uttered those words served to do nothing but sink Haruhi’s heart. She had no idea, no idea, why he wanted her approval. He was not going to receive it, no matter how much he longed for it.
“I thought… she might understand…”
The Suoh matriarch was one of the most formidable presences that Haruhi had ever encountered. Even she felt stifled, unable to breathe, in her presence. She was an old woman now, even frailer and tinier than when Haruhi had first glimpsed her, but her eyes still held their sharp chill. The presence of the cold, pure blood in her veins beat its pulse through the room.
Understand?
Understanding was not in this woman’s vocabulary.
***
Next week came. The plea was the same.
Again, she pursed her lips.
“Please don’t say no,” the young woman added desperately, obviously for her grandson’s sake. How much this girl must love him.
“I won’t allow it.”
“Just give me a chance. I’ll do - Please. You have to understand, what you’re doing to Tamaki… what you’re doing to Tamaki isn’t right. It isn’t fair. Why do you bind him like this, in yourexpectations?”
She looked down at one of her wrinkled hands. Of course it was fair.
*
You…. You just don’t understand.
I wish I could understand. How it is to be free. How it is not to be bound.
I am more bound than you’d think.
You are not bound until you constrict yourself in the layers of cloth, these layers that make it feel like you’re drowning.
*
“Yes. But you have to come again next week.”
There was dead silence. The young woman took in a shaky, disbelieving breath. She looked taken aback, as if surprised that success should come so suddenly. Or that is should come at all.
“And don’t forget my condition.”
**
“Yuzuru, this is Kyoko-san.”
She is thin, but fairly tall, almost as tall as Yuzuru. She has milk-pale skin, dark eyes, and dark hair. Her smile is slight. Her eyes gleam like a doll’s - a pleasant, unwavering expression.
“A pleasure to meet you, Kyoko-san.”
“And you, Yuzuru-san.”
“This marriage, you’ll agree, will work out nicely?”
Such hypocrisy, she thinks, such a dog.
But nonetheless, the dignified middle-aged woman, who silently sits in the corner, smiles. It’s a good thing that no one sees. It does not bode well.
**
“Is that… your husband?” the young woman asked her timidly, politely, pausing the teacup halfway up to her lips and nodding at the portrait above the old woman’s head. Her eyes were glued to it. She had not seen it before, and it surprised her.
These were notably the first words spoken that afternoon.
The old woman nonchalantly took another sip of tea.
“Yes, that is Yuzuru’s father. There’s a great resemblance.”
It was not a comment. It was a statement, a fact.
“Y-yes, there is,” she replied, stumbling a bit on her words. “And he looks so much like Tamaki, even though he ha-“ she caught herself and snapped her mouth shut.
Even though he has blond hair and blue eyes.
“Suoh blood runs strong, despite the substances which may dilute it,” was all the old woman said, taking another sip of tea.
**
“Please, Mother. She’s alive. She’s alive, and warm, and not all…. She’s different from Kyoko, I just can’t explain it.”
She knows very well what he’s trying to say: this girl is human. Her smile is warm. Her mind is not controlled by the gears that society has carefully placed there.
“You’ve dishonored your family, Yuzuru, by fooling around with her. You’ve shamed us all.”
“I didn’t ‘fool around’ with her. I love her.”
“Who told you that marriage was about love? Certainly not your father.”
He looks taken aback. “What do you mean by that?”
“You must break things off with this girl immediately. God forbid your wife should figure out.”
“I want a divorce.”
“No.”
“She’s from an aristocratic family.”
“No. You’re already married, I prohibit it.”
“I’ll divorce, and I’ll marry her.”
“You’ll marry her, but you’ll not have a way to provide for her. You’ll be a poor man, without the Suoh business.”
He looks stunned. That his mother would threaten not to give him, her only child and son, the empire that is his birthright.
“Father wouldn’t agree.”
“That’s not true. And you’re not getting a divorce. You will never speak to this harlot again.”
“She’s pregnant.”
She slaps him.
**
Yes, she mused, it was true. His blood was prepotent; it had worked down through three generations of Suohs.
***
She came back again the next week. One month, that is what the two women agreed to.
“You’re a lawyer.”
Again, it was a statement.
“Yes, I am. I work for a fairly successful firm.”
The old woman helped herself to a spoonful of sugar, her hand trembling with age. She sipped and puckered. Much too sweet. Disgusting.
“When I was a young woman, we didn’t take jobs. Especially if we were young ladies”
The young woman frowned.
The clock ticked away the rest of the hour. The old woman didn’t touch her tea again. It was too sweet now. It was too daring of her to have tried to add sugar; she had not tasted something sweet in a very long time.
*
He had such a genuine smile, one that never faded from memory even now.
And she wondered, even now, if her blush was colored in his memories, or just another scene of black and white.
She wondered if he remembered her, even now.
She would never have acted. Not then, not now, not ever.
Only honor was forever
Only legacy lasted when you were gone
*
***
Third week.
Just once more after today, the young woman repeated to herself, just one more time.
The old woman didn’t feel like drinking tea that day. She just lounged in her routine, too-big armchair, and watched the young woman sip her tea. She didn’t seem to like tea very much.
“I hope you understand the repercussions of marrying that boy,” she began. The young woman looked at her warily.
“Like what?”
“There’ll be things we expect of you. No wife of a Suoh should work as you do. You’ll have to socialize; that will be your job. Your hair, your clothing, your mannerisms, you’ll have to change them all. None are acceptable for a socialite.”
“I don’t plan to become a socialite.”
“Not only that, but have you considered the consequences this marriage will have on that boy?”
The young woman froze.
“I promised you my blessing, but I did not promise that I would not revoke the company from him.”
No response.
“It would have been better for him had he just married a nice girl that I’d picked out. It would be better for both of you.”
Finally, the young woman looked up at the old woman. Her eyes were strong and steady, even as they gazed into the other’s eyes. Eyes which were firmly set on her.
“Tamaki is himself before he is a Suoh,” she responded simply, “and so I will be.”
The old woman eyes, in return, did not flicker or change their aim.
“Young ladies shouldn’t behave like that.”
Only later did she realize what slipped out.
*
Young ladies have honor.
*
It occurred to her that honor might be standing up for what you believed in, in being strong. In that case, the thing she had clung to for the last fifty years was the thing she had the least of.
*
I can’t believe it.
Can’t believe what, Hiroko?
That you would do this.
Have I hurt you?
Don’t try and sound concerned. It’s only my pride you’ve hurt.
You…. You just don’t understand.
I wish I could understand. How it is to be free. How it is not to be bound. How it is to have options.
I am more bound than you’d think.
You are not bound until you constrict yourself in the layers of cloth, these layers that make it feel like you’re drowning.
I’ve worn kimonos also, Hiroko.
No, you don’t. You don’t wear them every day; you hardly wear them. You wear suits.
You don’t think those are constricting?
They are not a slow death.
Damn it, Hiroko. You wouldn’t understand.
I understand all too well. There are times… but I have never been untrue. I’ve honored our marriage. You have not. If I could live any way I pleased, be anything I wanted, love whom I wanted… But I can’t.
So we were taught.
We were taught to respect the responsibilities placed on us. I have no other options, but you do. Even if they are not the right options.
Hiroko…
I’ve upheld my role. You have not.
You wouldn’t understand.
You keep saying that, but it’s complete nonsense.
It’s not. It’s not. There’s more to life than blood and honor. I want to be free. I don’t want to live by these rules.
Pretty words, coming from the mouth of an adulterer.
That’s true. But… I pity you, Hiroko.
*
***
“Hello, Haruhi.”
The young woman was so startled on so many counts that her jaw dropped. There was a halfway civil greeting. Something she suspected only few received from the old woman.
And she had called her ‘Haruhi’.
Haruhi cautiously took her seat.
“You’re a commoner, aren’t you?”
This time it was an actual question. One that invited an answer instead of repelling it.
“Yes, I am.”
“Hmm.”
Haruhi fidgeted.
“You and my gra- that boy are very in love.”
“Yes.”
***
It was a good thing that her traits were not prepotent.
It was a good thing that her husband’s were, although she never thought she’d say that.
Perhaps, just perhaps, she should stop calling that French woman a harlot. Perhaps that French woman’s blood was enough to dilute the Suoh bloodline, leaving only the strength and charm. None of the suffocating, silent wake.
The strength she so admired in this girl; that must certainly be in her grandson as well.
Though she never though she’d say that.
***
“I look forward to attending your wedding.”
Haruhi was dumbfounded.
And, she could have sworn she was seeing things when the cruel lips of the old woman curled up into a tiny smile.
Haruhi could finally see the beauty that Tamaki claimed was there.