A Love So Great, A Love So Small

Title: A Love So Great, A Love So Small, Chapter Two

Author: Shirahime

Rating: NC-17 overall, this part PG

Pairing: Tamaki/Kyouya

Summary: A relationship blossoms amid thorns on the vines. Vague series spoilers.

Disclaimer: Don't own the characters or make any money from it.



Chapter Two


A few days later in the Newspaper Club’s office, the trio was getting a bright and early start with preparations to distribute their paper. They had already posted several fliers around the school telling of a special edition of the newspaper ‘that had to be seen to be believed.’ Sakyo was helping Ukyo place bundles of papers on a cart to be delivered to the school store and elsewhere when Komatsuzawa approached him.

“Hey, you have a free period this morning, right?” the teen asked him, to which Sakyo nodded. “I need you to go off campus to deliver something for me.” He held out a bundle of clothing for Sakyo to take.

“What’s with the cosplay?” Sakyo asked, noting that it appeared to be a delivery boy uniform.

Komatsuzawa grinned. “You wouldn’t want to be recognized, would you? I need you to deliver this package to the address written there,” he told him, pushing a thin package with plain wrapping into his already full arms.

“What’s in it?”

“A copy or so of our paper,” Komatsuzawa answered, pushing up his glasses.

Sakyo sighed, turning away to walk to the backroom to get changed. He stopped in his tracks as he gazed down at the package. He turned back to look at Komatsuzawa questioningly. “You want me to deliver this to him?”

Akira placed a hand onto his hip. “Yes, is there some problem with that? The plan isn’t complete without that added bit.”

“N-No,” Sakyo answered, wilting under his scrutiny and that of his friend. “No problem at all.”

_____________________________________

“I always knew that there was something strange about him…”

“Every family has one. They just don’t talk about it…”

“I wonder what the money’s being used for…”

Kyouya walked into his late morning class amid whispered conversations that suddenly halted when he passed through the door. A few glanced at him – nervously? – before turning away. Kyouya frowned. Similar behavior had gone on in the class that he’d had earlier. At first, the brunette thought that he was just being paranoid, but now, he was sure that he felt the weight of eyes on him as he sat at his desk. He looked up as the teacher began class. Even he seemed to cast a distracted look at Kyouya before he cleared his throat and started the day’s lesson. Then there were the two girls to his left that kept smiling at him and whispering to each other as they blushed. Kyouya shook his head, trying to ignore the change that he felt in the air and concentrate on class.

When their lesson ended, the two girls off to his side approached Kyouya as he put his books into his briefcase. “Um,” the first girl started shyly. “Is it true? Are you and Tamaki really…?”

Kyouya frowned. “‘Really’ what?”

The other girl whispered to the first, “I told you that he was going to feign innocence.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, now annoyed.

The girl produced the school paper from her briefcase and pushed it into his hands.

_____________________________________


In the early afternoon, the twins spotted Tamaki. They ran toward him as he smiled and waved at them.

“So what are we going to do about this, Milord?” Kaoru asked angrily.

“Just tell us, you know we’ll back you up,” Hikaru told him as he began to push up his sleeves.

“Er,” Tamaki started, confused about their angry excitement, “what are you two talking about?”

The twins shared a look. “He doesn’t know,” Hikaru told Kaoru, who shook his head.

“Know what?” the blonde asked.

Kaoru pushed a newspaper into his hands. Unfolding it, Tamaki’s eyes widened as he saw the headlines:

School Scandal! The Host Club A Den of Debauchery?

President Tamaki Suoh and Vice President Kyouya Ootori run the popular Host Club, but in reality, the pair, who have been engaged in a torrid love affair, have been using club funding to feed their own perverse habits – more on page 6!

Emblazoned on the front page was the blown-up picture of Kyouya lying on the couch in the backroom of the Third Music Room as Tamaki kissed his chest.

“W-What? When did they…?” Tamaki sputtered in disbelief.

“I can’t believe those guys! Spreading lies about you two and even doctoring photos!” Hikaru spat as he balled up his fist, shaking it.

Tamaki suddenly woke from his shocked stupor, gestured frantically. “Hikaru! Kaoru! Go to the school store, the newsstand by the cafeteria, anywhere else, and buy up as many of these as you can! No one can see this!” He dug in his pocket for his wallet.

Hikaru looked at him blankly. “Milord, I think it’s too late for that…”

“Half the school has probably already seen it,” Kaoru added.

Tamaki put a hand to his head. “What should we do? Kyouya can’t be allowed to see those papers! I have no idea what he’ll…” He trailed off as he saw Kyouya approach with what appeared to be a rolled newspaper in his hand.

The brunette stopped in front of him, a hand on his hip. Tamaki opened his mouth, Kyouya silencing him by holding the newspaper up in front of his face, glaring at him. “‘No one will see,’ you said… No one apparently besides the whole school…”

Tamaki held his hands out in a placating gesture. “H-How was I to know? It’s not like I told anybody to take pictures of us…”

The twins stared blankly at Tamaki and then Kyouya. “You mean it’s not a Photoshop?” they asked in unison.

Tamaki combed through his hair absently as he gave a nervous laugh. “Not really, no.”

Kyouya glared at him. “For once, can you think seriously?”

“I am!”

Kyouya sighed, turning to walk away. “Where are you going?” Tamaki called out to him.

“Where do you think? I’m under too much duress to go to the rest of my classes this afternoon.” He muttered to add, “I also have to figure out which of several ways to kill those bastards in the Newspaper Club.”

“Wait up,” Tamaki called, moving to catch up.

_____________________________________


Back in the Third Music Room, Tamaki was trying to soothe an angry Kyouya who stubbornly refused to be comforted, brushing away the arms that tried to embrace him.

“How much worse could this get?” Kyouya asked him, frowning. “The student council now wants to look at our bookkeeping to make sure we’re not ‘misappropriating funds,’ and the whole school knows about something that was no business of theirs. This thing,” he said angrily while shaking the newspaper in question, “is full of rumors and lies and is causing us nothing but trouble. But people are refusing to believe the truth because of these damned pictures…” He flung the tabloid onto the couch nearby, resting his head on his hands.

Tamaki moved closer to him, placing a hand onto his thigh which Kyouya didn’t try to displace. The blonde was pleased that the other teen had finally stopped rebuking his affections. “You’ll see… things will turn out just fine. This will blow over and become yet another thing that will draw customers to us. Don’t worry.”

Kyouya looked up to gaze into Tamaki’s gently smiling face. He was so simple sometimes, thinking that he could find a solution to any problem. But Kyouya found himself returning a small smile of his own as he leaned against him slightly.

Then, the door to the Third Music Room opened. Haruhi, who was closest, turned toward the person entering. “Sorry, but we’re closed today-”

“I’m not here for that kind of business,” the man entering the room snapped. “I’m here to speak with my son,” he said, fixing a stern gaze on the pair seated on the couch.

“Father,” Kyouya said as he rose from the sofa quickly. As he watched his father approach, his countenance more icy than usual, a feeling of dread loomed over him. “It’s not like you to visit so suddenly from work…”

“Ah! Mr. Ootori!” Tamaki greeted brightly as he rose from the couch to stand beside Kyouya. “It’s so good to see you! I hope you’re doing well-”

Mr. Ootori turned to Tamaki to fix him with a cold glare. “I have nothing to say to you. When I asked my son to befriend you years ago, I had no idea that you would be the one to lead him astray.”

Tamaki glanced at Kyouya nervously, noting his stony expression before turning back toward his friend’s father. “I have no idea what you’re referring to-”

Suddenly, Mr. Ootori’s hand flashed from behind his back, tossing a handful of papers into the air. The ripped pages of the Newspaper Club’s special edition fluttered down to the floor, the pages previously torn in a rare burst of fury on Ootori’s part.

Kyouya’s mask of calm began to crack as he looked down at the torn pages, noisily taking in a deep breath before he spoke. “W-Who sent that to you?” he asked, unable to conceal his horror.

“Does it matter who, Kyouya?” Ootori asked. “Do you have any idea what you have done? What excuse can you make to me for your behavior?”

Kyouya throat worked. There were a dozen things that he wanted to say, none of which his father wanted to hear. Finding his voice as he faced his father’s restrained fury, he could only say “I… I’m sorry that I’ve disappointed you, Father.”

Ootori gave a faint unkind smile. “That is all you have to say after the grave insult you’ve given your family name? After wasting your free time here only to fall into further deviancy?”

“He didn’t do anything wrong!” Tamaki shouted, trying to defend his friend. “Most of what’s printed in there is a lie-”

“But you can’t deny the fact that the two of you are lovers, can you?” Ootori demanded of him.

Tamaki gazed at him stubbornly, knowing that he might make matters worse, but not being able to help it. “And if we are? There’s nothing wrong with that. If this is all that Kyouya has done to upset you, isn’t it over something that is no one’s concern but ours?”

Mr. Ootori gazed at Tamaki in mild surprise before narrowing his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand, seeing how you came into this world.” Tamaki wilted slightly in response. Ootori continued, glaring at his son who refused to meet his eyes, “You were of honorable birth, and yet this is how you’ve repaid your father’s efforts to raise you into a proper man. How could you disgrace your family so thoroughly with these antics?”

Kyouya stood silently, his fist balled in an attempt to contain his emotions. Somehow, he had an inkling of what his father was about to say, could feel it hanging heavily in the air, but hoped that some sense of family would prevent the man from uttering the words.

After a few moments of strained silence, Mr. Ootori straightened, turning his back on his son, his posture stiff. “What you do from now on no longer concerns me,” he said coldly. “I don’t want to see you near my home. You aren’t welcome there anymore. I’ve already told the servants to collect your belongings and bring them to you.”

His heart sinking, Kyouya watched his father begin to walk away, the distance between them further than it had ever been. Could he really go this far? “Father…” Kyouya began to say, reaching out for the man as he approached him, unsure of what he would say next, if anything.

Suddenly, Mr. Ootori spun, his hand lashing out to strike at Kyouya. His glasses knocked from his face, Kyouya could hear them fall noisily to the floor amid the gasps of the Host Club members. Kyouya raised a hand to his face, his cheek stinging. He looked up into his father’s eyes, but saw no reprieve there.

Mr. Ootori’s expression was cold, revealing nothing as always. “You have no right to call me that any longer. You are no son of mine.” He turned to leave, not looking back even as he heard the sound of his son slipping to the floor onto his knees and his lover’s worried call of his name. Despite the growing noise in the room, his footsteps sounded so loud to his ears against the hardwood floor. So much potential, squandered in such a way. But he was determined to protect the dignity of his family and could only hope that his wayward son would realize the error of his ways.

Tamaki looked down at his stricken friend, hands hovering in midair, wanting to comfort him, but somehow fearing that he might be rejected. His feelings for his friend winning out, he sank to Kyouya’s side, picking up his glasses that had fallen nearby.

“Are you alright?” Tamaki asked, to which he received no reply. Kyouya stiffened when he laid a hand onto his shoulder. Tamaki squeezed lightly, hopefully reassuring him. He handed the glasses to Kyouya, which he took silently, putting them back on.

Tamaki sighed. He could almost feel the worried stares of their other friends boring into him as they all hovered nearby. He cast a worried gaze at Kyouya of his own. As soon as he opened his mouth to speak, Kyouya grabbed him by his uniform jacket’s lapels, pulling him forward roughly.

“Why do you never listen to me?” Kyouya asked him, his voice rising. “I told you that it was a bad idea, that someone might see us, but like always you push and push until you get your way!”

Tamaki was taken aback by the implication of his friend’s words, his eyes widening, a pained look on his face. “Kyouya! It wasn’t like that! I don’t-”

“You’re always like this! You don’t think, and you pull me along for the ride!” Kyouya’s fists tightened in the wrinkling cloth. “When you look at me with those eyes… and that voice… you can talk me into almost anything.” Kyouya narrowed his eyes. “Sometimes, I hate that about you.”

Letting go of his clothing, Kyouya slumped, shoulders drooping in defeat. Tamaki tried to put comforting arms around him, but Kyouya kept resisting his efforts, struggling with him.

“Everything that I’ve worked for… it’s all gone!” Kyouya shouted, his face animated by anger. “My whole life, I’ve worked so hard and everything has faded to dust…”

“Kyouya,” Tamaki started, at a loss for words. Seeing his friend this distressed frightened him as much as it pained him. Kyouya had always been the strong one, the person who always had the answers, but now he had none for himself. “Kyouya…” Tamaki said softly as he finally succeeded in pulling him close. The brunette resisted at first, but slowly began to melt into the affectionate embrace despite his anger.

“Why am I so weak against both of you?” Kyouya asked, his voice partly muffled as he spoke against Tamaki’s shoulder. A rarely felt sensation stung his eyes as he blinked, fighting a losing battle. He briefly noted the worried faces over Tamaki’s shoulder before the figures blurred as moisture rose to his eyes, forcing him to close them. “Why do I matter so little to him that he can so easily throw me away?”

Tamaki had no answers for him as he held him tightly, trying to soothe away the tears that silently fell from Kyouya’s eyes.


To be continued.