(no subject)
He glances at the sign-in sheet and starts keeping count in his head.
One.
Two.
Five.
Twelve.
That makes 14 designations for Tamaki, and 10 for himself. For the moment, it seems as if the former will be keeping his spot as Host Club King. But it was never a competition, not for Tamaki, even though to Kyoya, his entire life’s been nothing but a race--an uphill battle. First for his father’s attention, then for Tamaki’s.
And one can never have everything he desires.
He never sees the customers’ faces. Each time he sits down with one, sometimes two or three, he is saying what he ought to say (“Would you like some tea? Your smile is payment enough for me. Death before dishonor, I will protect you my whole life.”) but in his peripheral vision, Tamaki is there: bright, shining, and effortlessly making every girl in the room (bar one gender-confused fellow club member) fall head over heels in love. Suddenly, Kyoya’s every customer looks like Tamaki, sounds like Tamaki. He can’t escape, and he can’t catch up.
For Kyoya, this strong yet silent feeling cannot be called love as much as mere obsession. He suspects that it has been there since the moment they met. As soon as he got home that day, he went straight for his computer. The information highway.
Tamaki had been left alone. Lived by himself in a big mansion. His mother had sold him and he was in line to inherit the Suou company even though he was no more than an illegitimate child that had been left to die in France. Kyoya had hated the lucky bastard.
Yet he could not keep his eyes off of him. He wonders when it was that he had all of Tamaki’s mannerisms and personality traits memorized. Yes, Kyoya could manipulate him. He understood Tamaki so well; it was perhaps a deeper understanding than the French boy’s own awareness of self. But that was not at all what Kyoya wanted.
When Haruhi appears, it becomes obvious that Tamaki’s attentions are now elsewhere. There are less and less random phone calls between them, less time spent at the beach, less time talking and listening and being what they’d always been.
He figures that it’s inevitable. Only a matter of due course.
Their parting on their graduation is bittersweet and final. The words Kyoya has never been able to say, he tries to articulate. “Tamaki, I have something to say.”
“Oh, Kyoya! You don’t have to say anything.”
“I ... don’t?”
“Of course not, I’ve always known!”
He is overcome with nervousness and anxiety, though he gives no permission for the emotions to show on his face. “O-oh?”
“Yes.” Tamaki says emphatically. Kindly. “You are the best friend I’ve ever had. Thank you. I just know that we’ll always be the best of friends, even if you’re too stubborn to say so.” The sweetly sincere words cut like a knife.
Of course he couldn’t have known. It was ridiculous to even think it possible. But he can’t say a word of protest. Kyoya wouldn’t dare ruin Tamaki’s vision of the world.
“Thank you” is all he manages to say before turning away.
He feels his thoughts of Tamaki fade over time, and in this chasm, little memories remain--the silly look on Tamaki’s face when he’s proven wrong, the quiver in his voice when he’s trying so hard not to cry, the days they spent together when Tamaki couldn’t tell the difference between a shisa and a namahage.
And Kyoya smiles. Love is not something that has to be returned. This way, he can keep these feelings forever and as unchanging as the tide--all in his own heart.
『TITLE』 silent temptation.
『RATING』 PG for one profanity and lolghei.
『CHARACTERS』 Ootori Kyoya, Suou Tamaki (OKHC)
『WORDCOUNT』 624
『NOTES』 I kinda just felt like it. I blame unite and mercale for this.
『SUMMARY』 Kyoya examines his feelings for Tamaki and they reach a conclusion, though it's not the winning race that Kyoya always wanted.