Shattered
EPILOGUE:
Kyouya stood there, anxious as ever as he waited for the intercom to announce that the jetline for Milan had landed and is already unloading passengers. Len and Fuyumi sat on the bench beside where Kyouya stood. Haruhi and Tamaki, who were both holding each other's hands, gave him a reassuring smile. Kaoru was bored, however, as he followed the five-year-old Touya around the whole airport lobby.
When the gates opened, Kyouya let out a long sigh and smiled.
There was Amaya, side by side with Hikaru, who waved at the crowd that waited for their arrival. Amaya smiled back at him, and gave a small wave. Before Kyouya could return it, the rest of his comapnions abandoned him to mug the two and he stood there, quite stunned when Amaya's head disappeared almost entirely. He chuckled amusedly and turned to his heel, finally deciding to settle on one of the benches while waiting for them to finish with the usual tradition of the welcoming crew.
It has been almost three years when Amaya decided to fly to Milan with Hikaru to study design, despite his request for her to stay. After that night, everything quite went back to normal and Kyouya was glad Amaya had accepted him again. She had given him another chance and he was happy.
And now that she's back, he's definitely going to make things work out.
"You really did wait for me?"
It was Amaya's voice that made Kyouya smile. "Hm. It took you three years."
"Well, sorry then. I thought you said you'd be patient?"
"But I told you not to make me wait for so long."
Amaya pouted and continued as she leaned in. "What shall I do then, to make it up to you?"
He looked at her, his eyes intense and gravely serious. "Then marry me."
"OH MY GOD!" It was Fuyumi.
"What?!"
"He proposed!"
"What kind of proposal is that?!"
Amaya crouched there in silence, her mouth hanging slightly open as she stared at him, dumbfounded.
"I didn't popose to you properly on our first marriage that's why I'm doing it right now."
Silence.
With a smirk, Kyouya spoke. "I'll take that as a yes then."
Reaching from his pocket, he retrieved a royal blue, velvet box and he propped it open. Amaya's previous engagement ring innocently sat there. She never knew it but it was Kyouya who actually picked for her engagement ring (even though, resentfully). He pulled the ring out and slipped it on her left finger.
"Kyouya!"
"She didn't even say yes!"
"Sly."
He merely chuckled as Amaya snapped back from her trance and directed him a murderous look. "I didn't even say yes."
"You will, eventually. I'm sure of it."
Amaya even supressed a smile.
It definitely is going to work out.
---
OMAKE:
(On the hotel suite; honeymoon)
"Wanna watch 'Dead Silence' this time?" Amaya asked while holding a DVD up for him to see. Kyouya groaned in disbelief. She still wore that stupid wedding dress.
"Hey! Don't call it stupid! I designed it myself that's why I want to wear it all night."
Great. So now, she had just gotten some mind-reading powers? Just great. And she wants to watch another horror, for goodness sake.
"Amaya," he spoke while tapping the empty space on the bed beside him. "Come here. We're going to make love all night."
"Yuck. Pervert." Nonetheless, she sat down beside him and gave up on the horror film.
"I'm a--pervert? I'm your husband."
"But shouldn't we be doing such things if we want babies?"
"How many babies do you want? Twenty-one's a good number, don't you think?"
Mouth hangs open. "Twenty-one? Are you kidding me?"
"Do I look like I'm joking? I can carry that on. Besides, don't you want twenty-one black-haired kids with you matching green eyes? Father would be thrilled."
"That's it! You're on the floor tonight!"
---
END.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Shattered
Falling After Marriage Sequel
---
The moment she stepped inside the doors of the Third Music Room, Kyouya had known all along. He wasn't fooled by those baggy clothes she wore nor with her short, tousled hair or her flat chest. With the mere look into those eyes large, captivating eyes, he knew the host club would be dealing with one difficult girl.
He handled almost all the student records and Haruhi is one student anyone would keep an eye on. For one, she's a commoner trapped in a different dimension. And two: she's a scholarship student, indicating that she also had a brilliantly stinking brain to mop the face of all the students in Class A.
What he didn't know was that he would helplessly fall in love with this girl.
He wasn't so surprised. She had almost half of the members of the host club fall head over heels for her that it wasn't so new to find himself be enthralled with her different kind of beauty.
It was an inescapable feeling and even Kyouya Ootori could not, in all his power, stop it from happening.
"Haruhi."
His voice was crisp and monotonous--a sign that his throat had dried for the last two minutes that he sat there with his laptop on while watching Haruhi rush over the last minute chores in the music room. She stopped for a moment, freezing quite still as her hands fell to her sides. "Senpai?"
"Come here."
Puzzled, Haruhi obeyed and leaned in to level herself with the Shadow King.
"Close your eyes." Again, she obeyed.
And then, he kissed her. With one swift movement he pulled her to his arms and kissed her.
Haruhi's mind went completely blank. And next thing she knew, she was already catching her breath.
When Kyouya pulled away, her large brown eyes were filled with unanswered questions, quietly demanding him with answers she wanted to know. But instead, he pulled her back to a hug and whispered, "How can you be so dense and not realize my feelings for you?"
A few weeks after that incidence, they started going out and made their relationship public, despite others thinking both of them were homosexuals.
Tamaki was devastated of course.
---
"Kyouya," his father called him to his study one night and he had a vague idea of what it was all about. Probably business, of course, as his father normally would obsess himself with. He'd gotten used to it by now.
As the third son, with not much accomplished yet and ripping his way through the path where his brothers had trudged on, it's always the hardest part because he would always be obscured by the shadows. It was always like that.
"I have a proposal for you."
Well, maybe this time, Yoshio Ootori would hand him even just a quarter of the company's shares.
Sheer luck as if that would ever happen.
"What is it father?"
With a casual smile, Yoshio tossed a Polaroid across the table for Kyouya to see. It was a photograph of a girl, with a smile childish and eyes amused. She was actually rather plain, completely out of the kind who would captivate his interest.
"This is Hanazono Amaya. You know her pretty well and her father has associated with our company every so often."
Right. Now he remembered. She was THAT Amaya. He'd seen her on parties, all right, while picking on lots of cake and devouring them whole.
"Kyouya, we're announcing the engagement sooner or later. See to it that both of you are going to get along well."
He knew it was coming, knew that it was something he couldn't change and once his father had made the decisions, it would all be hard to break.
"Yes, father."
"You may go now."
With one last look at the photograph, he knew, that there is definitely nothing he can do about it, and letting go would be the hardest on his part.
---
Two days after, he was dumping Haruhi out of the blue. Tamaki almost broke his nose.
---
Haruhi had gotten to understand the reason why. But it was a selfish choice to go out with Tamaki. Because then, she had enough reason to convince Kyouya that she had moved on.
"I don't love you anymore. I have moved on."
Lies are mere words to cover up a feeling after all.
---
Amaya lay on her back, her arms spread over his face and her legs were entangled with the sheets. He didn't know how she ended up in his bed with one of her arms almost crushing his nose but he would definitely push her out of the bed for his mere luxury.
Kyouya had gotten used with her face. It was plain, yes, but there was something in it that made him look a second longer and decide to stare after all. It was something only a child could have and he was glad that he get to see something so peaceful like that everyday.
Gently, he moved to his side and pushed her arms off his face and she stirred once again, positioning herself flat against the stomach while burying her entire face against the pillow they usually shared whenever she would sleep over his room.
He had gotten used to her hushed snores that often kept him awake at three in the morning. He had gotten used to how she would wake up with her arms draped over his shoulders and scream bloody murder and he would wake up with a major headache after her that. He had gotten used on how she would pull him out from a document he was working on just for a childish Japanese cartoon she always wanted to watch with a matching strawberry ice cream in the process.
He knew that she was one girl, slowly making its way to be the reason for his whole life.
---
A jealous Kyouya Ootori is never one person to mess up with. Or else you'll be dealing with a whole lot of trouble.
They were on a vacation in France then, as Kyouya had suggested and they were walking down Champ-Elysees, fingers intertwined together, as he leaned to his side to take in her scent. He won't ever get himself used to it.
He pulled his coat tighter to himself and looked at the chestnut-haired girl by his side. God, how she knows how to be really adorable!
"Aya?"
"Hm?"
He bit back asking if she was intentionally driving him crazy as he simple leaned in to plant a soft kiss on top of her head. He pulled away with a wide smile on his face.
"Why do you have to do that all of a sudden?" she pouted stubbornly while feeling the spot where his lips had been earlier. She flushed furiously and turned her face away for him not to see.
"Don't you want me to? You have to get used to it once and for all."
They reached a particular ice cream stand and he had a sudden feeling she would complain real loud if he didn't comply to buy her a cone. He shuddered at the thought of having to endure it again. And so, they didn't leave the stall empty handed and Aya pranced steadily ahead while devouring her ice cream.
That was when Kyouya realized every other guy in the vicinity was turning to look at their direction. He narrowed his eyes, seeing how they froze to stare at his wife. His wife. How dare them!
"Aya." He stopped and turned to face her. She raised her eyebrows in surprise to see a fuming Kyouya Ootori.
"Kyouya? Are you all right?" She released his hand and placed it against his cheek affectionately.
"Why are you wearing that skirt anyway?" He tried his best to sound very normal.
"Eh?" She looked down, curling her toes casually against her slippers. It was a gift from the twins on her birthday as they complimented how accentuated her legs were that she shouldn't be shy to show them off once in a while. "The twins told me it suits me well."
Kyouya restrained from flying straight back to Japan to strangle the twins and cut their heads off simultaneously.
"You're showing off a lot of skin." Yes, indeed. The hem reached about two inches atop her knees. It was too much for him to take.
"Can we move on?" They're in the middle of the road, blocking other passersby and denying them some space to move. "We're attracting a lot of people."
'We're attracting a lot of people because of your legs.'
The look on his face could have been the cause of mass destruction.
"Hold this," he firmly said while handing her his untouched ice cream.
Kyouya pushed his coat off and instantly wrapped it around her waist, looping on a firm knot with the sleeves. "Kyouya! What are you doing!"
He gave up his usual smirk when he straightened up and planted a kiss on her lips. "Your legs are only for me to see, Ootori Aya."
She gave him a disgusting look before turning away to head back to the hotel. Yep. Aya was definitely making him insane.
---
More often than not, Aya would sit on the couch by the fireplace, wondering if Kyouya had turned into someone she didn't know--that he had transformed into another person--a mentally retarded person. His actions were somewhat disturbing lately.
Like what happened yesterday for instance: they were walking together by the park when he suddenly swooped her up and kissed her in the middle of the road, in front of the whole crowd. It was undeniably horrifying. And she was beginning to be dragged to the brink of insanity.
She wasn't used to this new phenomenon of their relationship. A once cold Ootori Kyouya was suddenly becoming an actively-hormonal monster who would do anything to show affection, in front of the public. If it was a crime, they had been long thrown into a death sentence.
Kyouya sat at the far end of the shore on a large recliner as he bathed in the scorching heat of the sun. The host club had gotten together once again--their first reunion, actually, right after graduation. It was a local beach Tamaki had suggested because of the cheap fees and he wanted his first son "to experience the way his mommy had lived her life before."
Kyouya would have scoffed with the idea, but seeing Amaya fuss over Tamaki's work plan excitedly, he had to groan inwardly and give away with her wish.
She sat down beside him on her bikini, with nothing else to cover up her bare skin. Kyouya sat up in alarm while removing his sun glasses to put them aside. Lucky his vision had improved since he started sleeping longer, and corrective lenses weren't a necessity anymore like how they used to. Although oftentimes, whenever he would skim over particular documents, he had to wear them on.
"Why are you wearing something like that?" he asked while slightly tugging the string that held her top in place. She blushed furiously and pushed him away.
"What the heck are you trying to do, pervert!"
"I was simply asking why you're wearing that kind of thing."
His voice was monotonous and unnerving.
"It's summer, you idiot!" She still hadn't calmed down as she tried to hide the blush forming on her cheeks. "You want me to wear a parka or something?"
"Hm. A parka would be better then."
Amaya turned to look at him and scowled. "Why do you always fuss over what I wear?"
He wasn't very particular with how girls dress up. Heck, he wouldn't even give a damn with whatever dress they show off or whatever shoes they walk on. But just this time, he wouldn't tolerate such.
With one jerk, he pulled her wrist and she toppled off balance, landing forcefully on his lap and she blushed deeper red. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he pulled her closer.
"If you're going to wear that, I'd rather have you locked up," he whispered against her ear as a small crowd gathered in front of them to watch the act. "For guys to see you wearing this sort of thing and to let them with their disgusting and dirty thoughts annoys me the most."
Amaya blushed further, as possible as she could further get and Kyouya stood up, carrying her into his arms as they made their way back to the villa for her to change.
Who would have known Ootori Kyouya could be so possessive?
---
It was his birthday.
The silence of the morning was disturbed when Amaya blew a loud God-knows-what right next to his ear and he cracked his eyelids open as his ears stung painfully with the sudden sound. His forehead creased in disapproval and he groaned desperately, pulling the sheets up over his head as he plopped back down.
Aya sprayed an array of yellow roses on the bed and a more-than-a-handful of confetti on his pillow. She stood up on the matress and jumped repeatedly until Kyouya was bouncing on it himself. "Wake up, Kyou-kun! Happy birthday!"
"Ngh...need...sleep." His words were barely audible against her squeal of an out-of-tune song of 'Happy Birthday!'
When she finished, it was her turn to growl loudly and scowl at his sleeping form. "Kyouya, it's time to wake up. It's your birthday."
She straddled his waist and crossed her legs, making his stomach a firm cushion as she reached out to touch his face and pull his cheeks apart to wake him up. "It's past seven! Wake up."
He pushed her hands away and shifted his position as she fell to her side uselessly. She creased her forehead and crossed her arms across her chest. "Ootori Kyouya! If you don't get up in three seconds, I'll go kick butt!"
Silence. "One."
...
"Two."
He turned to face her. Nonetheless, he didn't make any move to get his ass off the matress. Aya positioned her legs so they lay flat against his chest so she could push him out anytime. "Three."
Kyouya was in time to pull her leg up and she screamed bloody murder as she lost her balance and fell on the floor instead. "Ow."
"Good morning, Aya. Had a good sleep?"
She scowled defiantly and got hold of the cake on the bedside table. And then, she threw it square to his face.
Well, happy birthday, Kyouya.
---
No matter how many words of apology Amaya would speak out, he would remain stubborn and deny each of them. He even refused to treat her out for dinner because it was 'his special day,' just because of that morning incident. Oh no, he would never forget that.
"I said I'm sorry already, Kyouya," she begged for the umpteenth time that day while occupying the empty space beside her husband as he watched the night news even though his earphones were firmly plugged on and the volume of his music player blasted up to its maximum. At this point, Kyouya was far away from earth and had transported to the world where metallica was invented.
Annoyed that she had to do it all over again, she pulled the blasted piece of technology out of his ear and shouted, "I said 'I'm sorry!' Will you forgive me now and bring me out for dinner?"
"I won't forgive you."
"Wah! You're so mean, you know that!"
Kyouya sighed wearily and threw the player on the center table while massaging his temples with his fingers. He was tired of this stuff. Can't she just act a bit more mature than her real age?
He turned to her and leaned in. "Do you really want to make it up to me?"
Her face lit up so suddenly as a smile spread over her lips. "How?"
"A present." He leveled himself up into a kneeling position and pressed both his hands against the back rest of the couch, trapping each side of her head and a smirk playing over his lips.
"But I've already given you a present," she complained while poking her finger on the silver watch on his left wrist. Ah, such naivete. He sighed once again.
"No," he leaned further in so that his face was merely inches away from hers. "Make love to me."
It took Aya a couple of seconds before her brain could process his words. When realization came, she blushed beet red and looked away. "Why?"
"Aya, we're married," he reasoned out. "Damn worse it would be if we're not."
He was serious. With the mere look into his eyes, she knew he was serious.
"I thought you said you didn't want to do those kind of stuff?" Her forehead creased in appreshension as the tension between them grew more.
"I know. But right now, you're the only person I'm crazy about. At least let me show you how much you mean to me."
Hearing those words, she gulped in and looked at him staight in the eyes. Of all the sixteen months they've been together, not once had she ever heard her husband speak those words. It wasn't something trivial, that which should be taken lightly because in times like these, Ootori Kyouya is dead serious.
He pleaded with his eyes and Amaya had to close hers and nod. Kyouya leaned in and kissed the top of her head. "Thank you."
---
She gasped as the soft cushion of the matress greeted her back despite Kyouya still making no advances at all. Was she really this tense? Of course she is! How the hell would she know what to do when she was suddenly dragged in a situation like this? Her mind was completely blank!
Kyouya leaned in and made his way up to her, planting a soft kiss on her forhead before leading down to the soft pink of cheeks, down to the bridge of her nose, and finally settling to kiss her lips.
Amaya tensed at once and feeling this, Kyouya pulled away to look at her. "Just relax. I'm not gonna hurt you."
She nodded once and Kyouya wrapped his arm around her waist as he trailed kissed down her neck. He fumbled for the buttons of her blouse when she jerked her arm up and accidentally bumped with Kyouya's chin. "Ow."
He sat up and massaged the sore spot and Amaya touched it affectionately. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Kyouya sighed and narrowed his eyes when he looked up to meet her gaze. Is she really gonna be all right?
"Amaya, just calm down. We can't do anything if you fuss like this."
She cleared her throat while running her hand at the back of her head. "It's just that--"
Would she have the courage to tell him to stop? How would an Ootori Kyouya react if he was rejected. It was her first time. She would be happy if she would do it with him but it was something she still wasn't prepared for.
"Amaya?" She snapped out of her trance and jumped.
"Kyo--I mean, what's with this bed?" Her voice was up to twice its volume. "Not romantic at all! Of course it's my first time and it should be romantic. Thousands of rose petals should be scattered all over the room and the bathroom should be accentuated with hundreds of scented candles to match. The light's too bright, look! It's stinging my eyes. And besides, I didn't prepare cute underwear--" she blushed at the last sentence and continued. "Everything else should be in order before we--"
Kyouya smiled. She was still a child after all. He leaned in and pecked her forehead and whispered against her ear. "If you're still not ready, you should have just told me."
He cupped her jaw and made her look at him. His other hand tucked the stray hair away from her tousled hair and she stared at him with wide green eyes. "No matter what happens, I want you to be honest with me. I could always wait. Just don't make me wait so long, okay?"
It was Amaya's turn to smile then and pull his head closer to plant a kiss atop his hair. "Thank you."
"Hn." Kyouya detached himself from her and stood up. "Meanwhile, I have to take a shower. I'll treat you out for dinner so better get youself dressed. Wanna join me in?"
Amaya frowned at his remark and got hold of the nearest pillow within her reach. With a jerk, he threw it to his direction. "Pervert."
"It's wide enough for the two of us," he further suggested.
"Dammit Kyouya! Enough of that already!"
He chuckled as she pouted stubbornly before he pulled a towel and went straight to the bathroom, a warm smile, seemingly permanently plastered across his face.
---
It was in the middle of winter and Tamaki, as overly-sentimental as he is, gathered up the host club members and went on a vacation on the mountains. They carried young Touya along and Amaya was rightfully invited as she is Kyouya's wife and has now become a part of the family.
"In any way possible, tell me why we have to go with that idiot's plan for winter break?"
Kyouya sat at the far end of the bed of their room as Amaya gathered up her things for a quick bath.
"Kyou-kun, he's your best friend and he misses you a lot," she whined unecessarily and completely gave up idea of taking a bath and plopped down beside her husband who was clutching a plump pillow between his arms, squeezing it firmly and clenching his teeth as he did so.
"He's just overly-dramatic. This isn't necessary anyway!"
He threw the pillow on the floor and grabbedd Amaya's waist instead to pull her closer.
"Kyouya! What are you doing?!"
Alarmed, she tried to push his hands away to simply end up disappointed. He nuzzed his face on the crook of her neck and blew kisses against the soft skin, trailing up to the shell of her ear.
"Kyou--!"
"It's cold. Aren't you cold?"
"It's--"
The door opened wide and they froze.
"Sorry."
It was Haruhi who stood by the threshold, blushing furiously and looking away as her eyes landed on the ancient Roman painting that decorated the wall. "Dinner's ready."
With one swift motion, she turned away and closed the door behind.
Amaya regained her cool at once and turned to her stoned husband. Bracing herself, she landed a soft smack on the side of his head, as if affectionately reprimanding a child. One could feign anger, of course. "See what you've done? Idiot."
He sat still, not caring about Amaya who walked away (she'd forgive him the moment she sees his smiling face anway), not caring about the the sound of the closing door. He sat there as his mind replayed over Haruhi's expression when she walked in on them--when she opened the door with that look on her face. She wasn't supposed to show that face. He could always identify that kind of expression--that one which Amaya always wore in the past when she felt so alone, that one he sees himself wearing whenever the media would publicize anything about the progress between Haruhi and Tamaki's relationship. It was always the same: pain.
---
He stood by her door, his mind completely jumbled and his heart stinging painfully. The rest of the group had gone to hike but Haruhi insisted to stay over since there wasn't anyone else to take care of little Touya. The servants weren't around to be of service after all, thanks to the ever-stupid Tamaki who sent them on a day off exactly before they checked in.
Haruhi opened her door and a her large eyes flashed with surprise. "Kyouya?"
"Haruhi, we need to talk."
---
"Hikaru!" Amaya called out and her voice echoed through. The ash-haired boy's head snapped back to look at her.
"What? There's no need to shout, I can hear you."
She snickered uncontrollably and Hikaru walked up to her, reaching out to readjust her scarf and her ear mufflers.
"Where's Kyouya?"
His nose scrunched with her question and turned away. "How am I supposed to know? He's your husband!"
"Eeh? Was he left behind?"
"Like I care! Go back and look for him then!"
She seemed taken aback with is sudden aloofness. Nevertheless, she showed a smile on her face. "All right then, I'll go search for him. You can move on with the rest! We'll go catch up!"
With one swift movement, she turned away and ran back down.
"You gotta be kidding me!" Hikaru cursed while losening his jacket quite a bit and ran to catch up with her. How can a girl like her with no sense of direction at all, be able to go back to the villa alone anyway?
---
He was frozen, rooted on the spot where he stood with his eyes wide.
She stood there, in front of him, her face marked with pain and regret.
"Why did you choose him over me then?" he asked, his voice rasp. He was holding back. Holding back to prevent his arms to pull her to a close embrace, holding back to quiet his words he wanted to speak out and show her that after all these years, he remained deeply in love with her.
All the frozen feelings were back now, and the present didn't matter anymore. At that very moment, Amaya didn't matter anymore. It was just him and Haruhi.
"You were first one who turned your back on our relatioship," she whispered silently while taking a catious step toward him. "You could have stopped the marriage but you didn't. Before I could protest, you were already giving up and Tamaki was there to support me."
She was exceptionally close now and he wasn't hearing anymore. Kyouya could smell her usual fragrance. It was the same as before, as if nothing has changed at all. She wrapped her arms around his waist and Kyouya pulled her closer, enjoying her warmth. It was the same as Amaya's yet a lot more comforting. How he missed doing this. God knows how long he had been longing for her warm touch. It has been lightyears since he last held her like this.
"But I figured that no matter how much I force myself to forget about you, I love you even more."
He almost wished he could stop time from progressing and be able to hold her forever.
---
After several wrong turns and tripping-over-flat-surfaces later, Amaya found the villa they were staying at. Lucky Hikaru was there to help her out or else, she could have ended dead meat in the middle of the forest, brutally mutilated by a wild beast.
No matter how wild her imagination was, nevertheless, she raided each room on the mansion to look for her husband. The hell with his laziness and lack of motivation to enjoy his only break all throughout the year.
A door stood ajar and she stopped, with Hikaru almost bumping onto her back with her sudden halt.
"--but I knew that it's too late to take it back," Haruhi's voice spoke and a sudden jolt of pain rushed through that she had to clutch her chest to know if it was still there. "We could never be together again. You're married to Amaya. I have Tamaki and Touya and there's no reason to go back and redo what has happened. I have no regrets."
Amaya leaned against the wall for support and Hikaru turned away so he wouldn't see the anguish that wiped her face.
Kyouya's voice was cool yet sincere, his usual composure lingering still. "I know that. There's no turning back now."
Tears welled up and she started to cry, the pain surging further.
"For the last time, can I kiss you?"
Hikaru stood there, frozen still, his eyes rooted on the stain of his boot. He wasn't supposed to hear this. He wasn't supposed to be here, in front of Amaya, as they accidentally walked in on Haruhi and Kyouya's conversation.
He wanted to strangle Kyoya until he was satisfied but he couldn't bring himself to do it. How dare he play with this girl's feelings, making her believe that he was deeply in love--that they were deeply in love.
He wanted to pull Haruhi away and make her realize that she's totally wrong. To make her realize how much pain she was bringing to this fragile girl in front of him. Haruhi's married. Furthermore, she and Tamaki were bound by their child. Why is she even acting like this?
Amaya pushed herself away from the wall and struggled to regain her balance as Hikaru helped her out. She stepped inside the the room and peeked in.
And then, the pain on her heart worsened and she had to make more effort to catch her breath. It was suffocating.
Kyoya had leaned in as Haruhi wrapped her arms around his neck to meet his kiss.
A large hand suddenly covered her eyes and jerked her head as she landed on Hikaru's chest, her tears flowing nonstop that he had to drag her out quietly.
It was painful.
That she fell in love with someone who happened to be the cruelest man she had ever met.
That this man even let her believe that the love he masked was true and sincere.
That this man, after all of the things they've been through, after all of the things she had done, remained loyal to another woman's heart.
'I want to fall in love with you.'
The attempt has failed.
'You're the only girl I'm crazy about.'
'For guys to see you wearing this sort of thing and to let them with their disgusting and dirty thoughts annoys me the most.'
'I could always wait.'
These were all lies.
Because now, everything had fallen out of place. The other peices were gone and the puzzle was now impossible to be whole again.
---
They were back to the Ootori mansion and Amaya had locked herself up on her room. He didn't know why. Heck, she wasn't even the usual Amaya who would bug him endlessly all through the course of the rest of their vacation.
What had happened between him and Haruhi was now something he didn't regret. Looking back at what he had done and what had happened, he had to agree with what she said. The feelings were still there, but the impossibility of what they would hope to have is clear. They both have seperate lives now. And what he had to do is treasure what he has in the present.
He turned the knob and pushed the door open. Amaya was curled on the bed, silent and unmoving.
"Aya, it's late morning. Get your butt off the mattress."
"Kyouya, please leave." She didn't even bother to move and look up to see him.
"Get up. We're off to a business trip. Didn't you say you want to come along?"
"I've changed my mind. Just leave."
"Are you not feeling well?"
"I'm fine. Please leave."
"I'm not leaving unless you tell me what's wrong."
"I don't want to see you right now. Leave!"
"Wh--"
Tachibana had knocked and opened the door. "Master, we're going to be late."
"Fine," he scoffed and turned to follow Tachibana on the door. "If you don't want me, fine. I'm leaving now."
---
She baffled him. One moment they were doing just fine and next thing he knew, she was acting so cold. He didn't know what the hell happened and damn he wanted the reason why she was acting so weird that she wasn't the Amaya he used to know anymore. How many days had he last seen her face anyway? She always kept her eyes away that he came to miss how deep they were.
He swore to the heavens he'll fly back to Japan as soon as he finished with business.
---
His room was adorned with red rose petals that it almost looked like someone was murdered and there was a lot of blood. He had to admit it was an exaggeration of the designers he hired to decorate his room. An aromatic scent wafted on the air and a bundle of pale-colored candles were set up to serve as a faint source of light to illuminate the entire bedroom.
Amaya was brought inside and she plopped down on the bed, with a blindfold on and the door was locked at once. She was quite surprised with the scene that greeted her as she pulled her blindfold off.
The bathroom door opened to reveal a half-naked Ootori Kyouya with only a pair of boxers on, his robe hanging loosely on his shoulders.
He stode up to her with a smile on his face. He stopped right in front of her, as he leaned in to plant a kiss on her forehead.
"How is it?" he asked while forcing her to look at him. "I've set up a large number of scented candles on the bathroom, and more than a handful of rose petals on the bed. I could say that the atmosphere's quite good and you missed your husband so much for being away for a couple of days."
It was those couple of days that she took advantage of to cool down a bit and analyze the things that just happened. She looked back at what Hruhi had said.
She felt that she was played with.
That she was merely a tool to use so he could forget.
A mere substitute.
Kyouya nuzzled against the crook of her neck, and he planted kisses down her soft skin, trailing it down to the strap of her blouse and to her shoulder.
"What am I to you?"
It was a question Amaya fired and he stopped, looking up to meet her eyes. "Why are you asking that now when the atmosphere's too good to refuse."
"Do you still love Haruhi? What am I to you?"
"Amaya, we've been through this sort of thing. It's not a new issue. I told you I've gotten over her already."
Silence.
"Shall we go on?"
"Why do you have to lie and pretend that you love me?"
"Amaya, what are you talking about? I'm not--"
She bit her lower lip to stop the tears from welling up again. "Why do you have to make me believe that you were real? Why do you have to tell me you love me? Why do you have to be with Haruhi that night and tell her that you still love her? Why do you have to ask if you could kiss her? Why do you--?"
The tears had formed now, and trailed down to her cheeks. "I don't know why! I don't understand! Tell me."
He was stunned. Had she known? Had she seen what they had done that night? Had she heard what they had talked about?
Dammit, Kyouya!
"Amaya--"
"Why--"
"Amaya! It's all over now. You're the only one--"
"Please don't lie anymore. You only make it harder for me."
"Don't you trust me?" He stood up from where he knelt in front of her.
"I used to trust you but right now, I don't know anymore. I don't understand."
He looked away, his teeth clenched together tightly. He didn't know what to feel nor what to say in the first place. It was his fault and he'd never get to come to the decision to admit that he was wrong.
He turned his back on the person he loved.
Refused her.
And so did she, for the sake of this girl in front of him.
Kyouya knew she was hurt. But didn't she realize how much he had to give up, just to simply make her happy? He loved Haruhi, but he also came to love Amaya. It baffled him why she was acting this way.
"Do you want to hear what I have to say?"
"No I don't."
"Do you hate me?"
She sniffled quietly and spoke. "I hate you."
"Fine."
He could never talk to someone, could never open up to someone who wouldn't even bother to listen to what he had to say.
---
Sixteen months ago, Hanazono Amaya stood outside of the cathedral with her wedding dress, perfectly created by the best designers in the whole fashion world. She was very pretty and anyone could tell that it was the wedding that anyone would ask for.
A perfect groom.
A perfect wedding.
They were all wrong. In spite of all these perfection, she wasn't happy. In a matter of hours, she would come greet his husband with a 'smile' on her face, pretending that she was marrying the guy she always loved.
That was all what people knew about their relationship. The elders lied to the media, to all the people, saying that they've been dating steadily for the past few months. They were not. It was all a joke. It was all just a bluff. They were never in love.
---
Ten months ago, Amaya sat by herself, wondering if she was, as much as she wanted to deny it herself, falling in love with this guy. This particular guy who would do anything for profit. This particular guy who would plot out plans for his own advantage, simply to get his father's attention. Who was indifferent ever since that day they were bound by marriage.
She didn't know.
Kyouya was still in love with her. With the girl he had to give up because Amaya had to jump in the scene.
She wasn't so surprised that he was crazy about Haruhi. She was plain, yet extaordinarily beautiful in her own way. She was blunt, yet she could stump you with her words--each one overflowing with hidden meaning that anyone would be interested to crack.
She was one girl Ootori Kyouya would simply fall head over heels with.
And she was simply Amaya, a plain-looking girl with surprisingly damn rich father, forced into his life--into his family--so their power and wealth could expand much, much further.
He would never come to love her back, and that, she was sure of.
---
Four months ago, she was frozen by the countertop as Kyouya leaned down to whisper on her ear words she always wanted him to speak.
"I want to fall in love with you."
"I could forget Haruhi and fall in love with you."
She was happy--lost in her own world and speechless to death as she almost forgot how to formulate coherent sentences.
She was happy, more than words could ever explain--that the only man she ever loved was asking for permission to capture her heart when it was always for him all along.
---
Kyouya had lied.
He was the same old Ootori Kyouya after all--aloof and cruel. Amaya was just too stupid to fall on his trap.
And now, because of that stupidity, she was hurting.
---
The dining room was enveloped with silence as they sat by each end of the long table while contemplating their late dinner.
Weeks, it had been that the whole mansion would be covered with awkward silence whenever they were both around.
Weeks, it had been, when they last spoke to each other. They would come meet on hallways, but they would never stop and jump into a conversation. They would never share the same pint of ice cream like before, never sit on the same couch and watch the late news or Amaya's favorite cartoon show.
Never would everything go back to where it normally was.
They were cold. And the warmth they both radiated, the warmth that Amaya emitted to glow the whole mansion, had lost its spark and died out. Never could she even imagine herself that she would go back to how she used to be.
Kyouya leaned back on his chair and pushed the untouched plate away. He heaved a long sigh while pushing himself up, with the legs of the chair screeching noisily against the marble floor. "I'm going to bed."
She wanted to push him away, yell at him so her anger would dissapate, but the problem is: she couldn't. She could not bring herself to accuse him of hurting her. Of making her expect when there wasn't anything to wait for. She was very wrong to trust the Kyouya who told her that he loved her. Who told her that he would do anything to protect her. These were all pathetic make-believes. She knew she wasn't in a fairytale and there were no happily-ever-after endings to look forward to. She was so wrong.
She tried to walk away. To get out of his sight once and for all so she wouldn't continue hurting anymore. It was all painful to bear. Almost impossible even, that it was almost killing her inside. And yet, she sat there, frozen as he stared at her with grey eyes full of emotions she couldn't figure out. Her mind was too blank to think straight.
He turned away to head for the door so he could avert his eyes away from hers. It hurt him inside that they've gone cold. It seemed only yesterday that he held her so close, taking in her scent, feeling her warmth. It was all gone now.
"Kyouya."
It was a voice he missed for so long as he stopped by the door, his hand freezing midway to push it open. How long had he last heard her voice anyway?
"I want a divorce."
For a moment, he tried to register her words as they ran past his ears. They seemed so distant and it was piercing him
The pain was too much to bear. But as an Ootori as he is, he feigned an unknowing smile and turned to face the girl that sat there, quiet, unmoving, lost in her silent despair. They were both stupid.
They were both childish.
"Then," he started as he turned back on the door as he manged to push it open. "I'll ask Haruhi to arrange the paperwork."
---
Amaya was never strong. Len had always thought she was. Her father had always thought she was. But they were both wrong. She was never that girl. She was weak.
She sat on the far end of the bench, as she took in the late December chill. She wore nothing to protect herself from the sudden drop of the temperature as another gush of wind blew against her face and she shivered from the cold.
The whole mansion had gone in a total chaos as they searched for her. Kyouya sat there, his mind calculating and in panic as he thought of places to where she possibly could have gone. He raided the game arcade that morning, yet she was nowhere to be found. And then, he settled to calm himself by going back home for a cup of tea, which was barely helping.
"Tachibana." He tried to hide the worry on hs voice but it was a feeble attempt to do so. "Gather up the Ootori Private Police to search for her. Bring her back before dusk." He even supressed beg.
In a distance, a hand covered over a mouth and whispered, "If master's worrying that much about young mistress, why do they have to divorce anyway?"
Kyouya pretended not to hear, yet he was wondering so himself.
---
"It's not a very good place to go if you're attempting to run away, you know?" a familiar voice spoke and Amaya turned to look up and away from her frozen toes that curled against the heap of snow beneath her feet.
"Did he ask you to look for me?" she asked as the black-haired woman draped her coat over her shoulders and sat at the other end of the bench.
"The whole mansion was in chaos when I arrived and Sumire-san told me you were missing. I was worried."
Silence took over and it was merely broken when a small sparrow perched itself on the middle of the bench and pecked unseen crumbs on the surface.
Finally, Fuyumi cleared her throat and spoke. "He's worried about you. At least listen to what he has to say."
"I don't want to trust him anymore, neesan. I have had enough."
Things wouldn't go back they way they used to. Not now that a crack has formed on the surface of the glass, threathening to shatter into million pieces.
One hand reached out to touche her arm affectionately, "Aya, I'm here."
There was Len, his hair tousled in different directions. He pulled Amaya into a tight hug and buried his face on the crook of her neck. "You're cold."
"Oniisan."
When he pulled away, he turned to face Fuyumi, his face unmasked with rage and anger. "Fuyumi-san, please do tell your brother Amaya's moving back to our home. He's done enough damage to my sister."
Without another word, he swooped her up and carried her to his back as Amaya burst into tears.
---
The divorce papers were signed and everything else was settled. Amaya's things were moved out the mansion. Her presence, her clothes, they were all gone. When Kyouya entered his room that day to retire after a whole day's work, he had found his shirt Amaya previously used as night pajamas. He pulled it out of the couch and it had a mingling scent of her perfume and his own.
Sleep rubbed off him and he lay awake for the whole night, thinking about what had happened and what he had done wrong that she had to walk out of his life. He stood up and raided the maid's quarters, demanding for the key of Amaya's previous room.
It was all nostalgic as he sat on her bed, the scent of her intoxicating him. Everything about the room told her that Amaya has been there. That she indeed has become a part of his life and she almost stayed for good.
The calendar from the previous year lay atop her drawer and he remembered how much she cared about him that she even threw that invitation Tamaki and Haruhi had given them for their wedding. Just so it wouldn't hurt him seeing his best friend and the woman he loved get married.
The skirt she had used on their trip to France was there, folded neatly on the bottom drawer, discarded and forgotten. The yearbook was also there. He remembered it before and it was his. The pages covered the host club's pictures and Haruhi's, along with the other faces of their batch.
Even the owl she bought for him on her birthday lay on her bed. With its large yellow eyes, it too, felt quite lonely that she had gone.
No matter how much he wanted to wake up from reality, it would always chase him back.
Kyouya skipped office and Fuyumi dropped by. They sat on the veranda, sipping coffee, not quite enjoying the peacefulness of the atmosphere. Somehow, it had become awkward.
"She's gone now, huh?" Fuyumi spoke first and broke the silence.
Kyouya remained silent. It was the truth. But it was something that would definitely be hard to accept.
"But this is what you want, right?" Fuyumi went on. Her brother is cruel and she knew that. She knew it was a fact that Amaya had to suffer with. But nonetheless, Kyouya is still human. No matter how much he would do anything for profit, no matter how much he would tell and show everyone else that there is nothing else important to his life besides money and business, he's still human. "You still love Haruhi, right?"
There was eternal silence before he spoke. "I still love Haruhi."
But it was a lie. No matter how much he wanted himself to belive that he still loves her, it would always stand as a lie. Because his heart is screaming otherwise.
---
"You love design, right?" Hikaru asked as he sat across Amaya who was skimming through a new release of the Hitachiin fashion magazine. He dropped by to check on her and it seemed that she was doing just fine. It has been almost a week after the divorce and Amaya seemed to be taking it so well, even though he knew how much it hurt.
She looked to him with a questioning eye, curious on why he suddenly brought it up.
"I'm opening a design school in Milan. I reckon you should somehow indulge yourself with something else as a distraction."
She understood. After all, after that divorce, everyone else seemed to have rushed to her aid to help her stand up. She was also thankful that she had such friends that she could rely on. Or else she would just break down without anyone to turn to.
"I'm fine, Hikaru. Thanks for your concern but I just can't leave now."
Amaya's a strong woman after all. And that was what he liked about her.
NOT. She was never that woman.
---
To say Ootori Kyouya is angry is an understatement. He was furious. To the point that he wanted to kick something real hard until it shatters like a piece of glass. How can he be so stupid?! For the first time in his whole life, he admitted that he was entirely wrong! That he was an idiot to not know and realize everything until that everything was taken away from him.
"Amaya, open up!"
The servants of the Hanazono mansion were in an uproar. It was a command to not let the youngest Ootori inside the grounds, much less inside the house itself. It was an order from Len, and it wouldn't be diswayed.
Until Ootori Kyouya declared his intention of breaking down the door.
"AMAYA!"
Amaya sat on her bed; the blankets covered up her entire form. Kyouya was there and she was afraid that she would break down if he saw that familiar face that broke her heart. She was acting childish, she was aware of that. But she was scared that the emotions would once again resurface if he saw him there, that the tears would form again and flow out of her system. She didn't want that.
Len equaled his anger and he wrenched the door open, his teeth clenched together tightly and his knuckles almost turning white agaist his grip on the dorr handle. "What?!"
"Good. I'm seeing Amaya."
"No one's going to see my sister."
"There is. I am."
And without another warning, Kyouya pushed him aside as he stormed up to Amaya's room, with Len and the servants following suit. "Ootori, stop right there!"
When he reached her door, he wrenched it open and slammed it against Len's face.
She was there, covered in a large blanket, shaking.
"Amaya--"
"Don't get close! I don't want to see you right now."
"It's been a week," he wasn't listening as he strode up to her bed.
"I said, don't get close! Aren't you listening?!"
"It has just been seven days and I'm right here, talking to you already."
"I don't want to listen! Get out of my room!"
"Listen to me," he sat on the bed and she backed away, without the blankets falling. "It has just been a week yet I couldn't take it anymore."
"Please get out of my room," Amaya spoke, her voice quivering.
"Will you please just listen to me?!"
And then, she started to cry. Under the covers, she broke down. Kyouya sighed and shifted his weight so he could wrap his arms around her. He pulled her closer when she didn't struggle to let go.
"Are you listening now?"
She didn't anwser. Instead, he was welcomed with more of her sobs but he decided to go on.
"I can't let you go. I've come to realize that it would kill me if I do that. I'm never going to let go of you anymore. It was just a week and it felt like eternity."
"Haru--"
"Stop talking about Haruhi right now! She's not the issue here!"
"It's all about Haruhi!"
"That's because I'm stupid to not learn how much my life meant when you were with me until you were gone!"
"I don't--hic--believe you!"
Kyouya sighed. "I sit here like an idiot, hugging a stuffed human and you still think I'm lying?"
"You said before--"
"Look at me," he dropped his hands on the fabric and tugged it down. Amaya held the blanket closer.
"Hey, look at me." He tugged it harder and it fell down to her sides. God knows how long he had seen her. It must have been forever.
She was looking down, her eyes averted on the stripes of her pajama pants and Kyouya tucked his hand on her chin, pushing it up to force her to look at him. She was closing her eyes.
"Please look at me and belive what I'm saying. Please."
"You're a lying bast--!"
Kyouya grabbed her hand and placed on his left chest. Amaya blinked in surprise as she felt the erratic beating of his heart.
"Feel it and believe me."
His face was marked with pain and sincerity, and she bursted further into tears.
With a faint smile, Kyouya pulled her back into a hug and she didn't struggle to push him away.
"I love you, Amaya," he whispered on her ear and she drenched the front of his shirt further until it was soaking. "And forgive me if I brought you so much pain."
Silence.
"Are we fine now?"
"I hate you!"
Kyouya chuckled amusingly and dropped a kiss on her shoulder. From now on, things will definitely work out.
-+-
Falling After Marriage Sequel
---
The moment she stepped inside the doors of the Third Music Room, Kyouya had known all along. He wasn't fooled by those baggy clothes she wore nor with her short, tousled hair or her flat chest. With the mere look into those eyes large, captivating eyes, he knew the host club would be dealing with one difficult girl.
He handled almost all the student records and Haruhi is one student anyone would keep an eye on. For one, she's a commoner trapped in a different dimension. And two: she's a scholarship student, indicating that she also had a brilliantly stinking brain to mop the face of all the students in Class A.
What he didn't know was that he would helplessly fall in love with this girl.
He wasn't so surprised. She had almost half of the members of the host club fall head over heels for her that it wasn't so new to find himself be enthralled with her different kind of beauty.
It was an inescapable feeling and even Kyouya Ootori could not, in all his power, stop it from happening.
"Haruhi."
His voice was crisp and monotonous--a sign that his throat had dried for the last two minutes that he sat there with his laptop on while watching Haruhi rush over the last minute chores in the music room. She stopped for a moment, freezing quite still as her hands fell to her sides. "Senpai?"
"Come here."
Puzzled, Haruhi obeyed and leaned in to level herself with the Shadow King.
"Close your eyes." Again, she obeyed.
And then, he kissed her. With one swift movement he pulled her to his arms and kissed her.
Haruhi's mind went completely blank. And next thing she knew, she was already catching her breath.
When Kyouya pulled away, her large brown eyes were filled with unanswered questions, quietly demanding him with answers she wanted to know. But instead, he pulled her back to a hug and whispered, "How can you be so dense and not realize my feelings for you?"
A few weeks after that incidence, they started going out and made their relationship public, despite others thinking both of them were homosexuals.
Tamaki was devastated of course.
---
"Kyouya," his father called him to his study one night and he had a vague idea of what it was all about. Probably business, of course, as his father normally would obsess himself with. He'd gotten used to it by now.
As the third son, with not much accomplished yet and ripping his way through the path where his brothers had trudged on, it's always the hardest part because he would always be obscured by the shadows. It was always like that.
"I have a proposal for you."
Well, maybe this time, Yoshio Ootori would hand him even just a quarter of the company's shares.
Sheer luck as if that would ever happen.
"What is it father?"
With a casual smile, Yoshio tossed a Polaroid across the table for Kyouya to see. It was a photograph of a girl, with a smile childish and eyes amused. She was actually rather plain, completely out of the kind who would captivate his interest.
"This is Hanazono Amaya. You know her pretty well and her father has associated with our company every so often."
Right. Now he remembered. She was THAT Amaya. He'd seen her on parties, all right, while picking on lots of cake and devouring them whole.
"Kyouya, we're announcing the engagement sooner or later. See to it that both of you are going to get along well."
He knew it was coming, knew that it was something he couldn't change and once his father had made the decisions, it would all be hard to break.
"Yes, father."
"You may go now."
With one last look at the photograph, he knew, that there is definitely nothing he can do about it, and letting go would be the hardest on his part.
---
Two days after, he was dumping Haruhi out of the blue. Tamaki almost broke his nose.
---
Haruhi had gotten to understand the reason why. But it was a selfish choice to go out with Tamaki. Because then, she had enough reason to convince Kyouya that she had moved on.
"I don't love you anymore. I have moved on."
Lies are mere words to cover up a feeling after all.
---
Amaya lay on her back, her arms spread over his face and her legs were entangled with the sheets. He didn't know how she ended up in his bed with one of her arms almost crushing his nose but he would definitely push her out of the bed for his mere luxury.
Kyouya had gotten used with her face. It was plain, yes, but there was something in it that made him look a second longer and decide to stare after all. It was something only a child could have and he was glad that he get to see something so peaceful like that everyday.
Gently, he moved to his side and pushed her arms off his face and she stirred once again, positioning herself flat against the stomach while burying her entire face against the pillow they usually shared whenever she would sleep over his room.
He had gotten used to her hushed snores that often kept him awake at three in the morning. He had gotten used to how she would wake up with her arms draped over his shoulders and scream bloody murder and he would wake up with a major headache after her that. He had gotten used on how she would pull him out from a document he was working on just for a childish Japanese cartoon she always wanted to watch with a matching strawberry ice cream in the process.
He knew that she was one girl, slowly making its way to be the reason for his whole life.
---
A jealous Kyouya Ootori is never one person to mess up with. Or else you'll be dealing with a whole lot of trouble.
They were on a vacation in France then, as Kyouya had suggested and they were walking down Champ-Elysees, fingers intertwined together, as he leaned to his side to take in her scent. He won't ever get himself used to it.
He pulled his coat tighter to himself and looked at the chestnut-haired girl by his side. God, how she knows how to be really adorable!
"Aya?"
"Hm?"
He bit back asking if she was intentionally driving him crazy as he simple leaned in to plant a soft kiss on top of her head. He pulled away with a wide smile on his face.
"Why do you have to do that all of a sudden?" she pouted stubbornly while feeling the spot where his lips had been earlier. She flushed furiously and turned her face away for him not to see.
"Don't you want me to? You have to get used to it once and for all."
They reached a particular ice cream stand and he had a sudden feeling she would complain real loud if he didn't comply to buy her a cone. He shuddered at the thought of having to endure it again. And so, they didn't leave the stall empty handed and Aya pranced steadily ahead while devouring her ice cream.
That was when Kyouya realized every other guy in the vicinity was turning to look at their direction. He narrowed his eyes, seeing how they froze to stare at his wife. His wife. How dare them!
"Aya." He stopped and turned to face her. She raised her eyebrows in surprise to see a fuming Kyouya Ootori.
"Kyouya? Are you all right?" She released his hand and placed it against his cheek affectionately.
"Why are you wearing that skirt anyway?" He tried his best to sound very normal.
"Eh?" She looked down, curling her toes casually against her slippers. It was a gift from the twins on her birthday as they complimented how accentuated her legs were that she shouldn't be shy to show them off once in a while. "The twins told me it suits me well."
Kyouya restrained from flying straight back to Japan to strangle the twins and cut their heads off simultaneously.
"You're showing off a lot of skin." Yes, indeed. The hem reached about two inches atop her knees. It was too much for him to take.
"Can we move on?" They're in the middle of the road, blocking other passersby and denying them some space to move. "We're attracting a lot of people."
'We're attracting a lot of people because of your legs.'
The look on his face could have been the cause of mass destruction.
"Hold this," he firmly said while handing her his untouched ice cream.
Kyouya pushed his coat off and instantly wrapped it around her waist, looping on a firm knot with the sleeves. "Kyouya! What are you doing!"
He gave up his usual smirk when he straightened up and planted a kiss on her lips. "Your legs are only for me to see, Ootori Aya."
She gave him a disgusting look before turning away to head back to the hotel. Yep. Aya was definitely making him insane.
---
More often than not, Aya would sit on the couch by the fireplace, wondering if Kyouya had turned into someone she didn't know--that he had transformed into another person--a mentally retarded person. His actions were somewhat disturbing lately.
Like what happened yesterday for instance: they were walking together by the park when he suddenly swooped her up and kissed her in the middle of the road, in front of the whole crowd. It was undeniably horrifying. And she was beginning to be dragged to the brink of insanity.
She wasn't used to this new phenomenon of their relationship. A once cold Ootori Kyouya was suddenly becoming an actively-hormonal monster who would do anything to show affection, in front of the public. If it was a crime, they had been long thrown into a death sentence.
Kyouya sat at the far end of the shore on a large recliner as he bathed in the scorching heat of the sun. The host club had gotten together once again--their first reunion, actually, right after graduation. It was a local beach Tamaki had suggested because of the cheap fees and he wanted his first son "to experience the way his mommy had lived her life before."
Kyouya would have scoffed with the idea, but seeing Amaya fuss over Tamaki's work plan excitedly, he had to groan inwardly and give away with her wish.
She sat down beside him on her bikini, with nothing else to cover up her bare skin. Kyouya sat up in alarm while removing his sun glasses to put them aside. Lucky his vision had improved since he started sleeping longer, and corrective lenses weren't a necessity anymore like how they used to. Although oftentimes, whenever he would skim over particular documents, he had to wear them on.
"Why are you wearing something like that?" he asked while slightly tugging the string that held her top in place. She blushed furiously and pushed him away.
"What the heck are you trying to do, pervert!"
"I was simply asking why you're wearing that kind of thing."
His voice was monotonous and unnerving.
"It's summer, you idiot!" She still hadn't calmed down as she tried to hide the blush forming on her cheeks. "You want me to wear a parka or something?"
"Hm. A parka would be better then."
Amaya turned to look at him and scowled. "Why do you always fuss over what I wear?"
He wasn't very particular with how girls dress up. Heck, he wouldn't even give a damn with whatever dress they show off or whatever shoes they walk on. But just this time, he wouldn't tolerate such.
With one jerk, he pulled her wrist and she toppled off balance, landing forcefully on his lap and she blushed deeper red. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he pulled her closer.
"If you're going to wear that, I'd rather have you locked up," he whispered against her ear as a small crowd gathered in front of them to watch the act. "For guys to see you wearing this sort of thing and to let them with their disgusting and dirty thoughts annoys me the most."
Amaya blushed further, as possible as she could further get and Kyouya stood up, carrying her into his arms as they made their way back to the villa for her to change.
Who would have known Ootori Kyouya could be so possessive?
---
It was his birthday.
The silence of the morning was disturbed when Amaya blew a loud God-knows-what right next to his ear and he cracked his eyelids open as his ears stung painfully with the sudden sound. His forehead creased in disapproval and he groaned desperately, pulling the sheets up over his head as he plopped back down.
Aya sprayed an array of yellow roses on the bed and a more-than-a-handful of confetti on his pillow. She stood up on the matress and jumped repeatedly until Kyouya was bouncing on it himself. "Wake up, Kyou-kun! Happy birthday!"
"Ngh...need...sleep." His words were barely audible against her squeal of an out-of-tune song of 'Happy Birthday!'
When she finished, it was her turn to growl loudly and scowl at his sleeping form. "Kyouya, it's time to wake up. It's your birthday."
She straddled his waist and crossed her legs, making his stomach a firm cushion as she reached out to touch his face and pull his cheeks apart to wake him up. "It's past seven! Wake up."
He pushed her hands away and shifted his position as she fell to her side uselessly. She creased her forehead and crossed her arms across her chest. "Ootori Kyouya! If you don't get up in three seconds, I'll go kick butt!"
Silence. "One."
...
"Two."
He turned to face her. Nonetheless, he didn't make any move to get his ass off the matress. Aya positioned her legs so they lay flat against his chest so she could push him out anytime. "Three."
Kyouya was in time to pull her leg up and she screamed bloody murder as she lost her balance and fell on the floor instead. "Ow."
"Good morning, Aya. Had a good sleep?"
She scowled defiantly and got hold of the cake on the bedside table. And then, she threw it square to his face.
Well, happy birthday, Kyouya.
---
No matter how many words of apology Amaya would speak out, he would remain stubborn and deny each of them. He even refused to treat her out for dinner because it was 'his special day,' just because of that morning incident. Oh no, he would never forget that.
"I said I'm sorry already, Kyouya," she begged for the umpteenth time that day while occupying the empty space beside her husband as he watched the night news even though his earphones were firmly plugged on and the volume of his music player blasted up to its maximum. At this point, Kyouya was far away from earth and had transported to the world where metallica was invented.
Annoyed that she had to do it all over again, she pulled the blasted piece of technology out of his ear and shouted, "I said 'I'm sorry!' Will you forgive me now and bring me out for dinner?"
"I won't forgive you."
"Wah! You're so mean, you know that!"
Kyouya sighed wearily and threw the player on the center table while massaging his temples with his fingers. He was tired of this stuff. Can't she just act a bit more mature than her real age?
He turned to her and leaned in. "Do you really want to make it up to me?"
Her face lit up so suddenly as a smile spread over her lips. "How?"
"A present." He leveled himself up into a kneeling position and pressed both his hands against the back rest of the couch, trapping each side of her head and a smirk playing over his lips.
"But I've already given you a present," she complained while poking her finger on the silver watch on his left wrist. Ah, such naivete. He sighed once again.
"No," he leaned further in so that his face was merely inches away from hers. "Make love to me."
It took Aya a couple of seconds before her brain could process his words. When realization came, she blushed beet red and looked away. "Why?"
"Aya, we're married," he reasoned out. "Damn worse it would be if we're not."
He was serious. With the mere look into his eyes, she knew he was serious.
"I thought you said you didn't want to do those kind of stuff?" Her forehead creased in appreshension as the tension between them grew more.
"I know. But right now, you're the only person I'm crazy about. At least let me show you how much you mean to me."
Hearing those words, she gulped in and looked at him staight in the eyes. Of all the sixteen months they've been together, not once had she ever heard her husband speak those words. It wasn't something trivial, that which should be taken lightly because in times like these, Ootori Kyouya is dead serious.
He pleaded with his eyes and Amaya had to close hers and nod. Kyouya leaned in and kissed the top of her head. "Thank you."
---
She gasped as the soft cushion of the matress greeted her back despite Kyouya still making no advances at all. Was she really this tense? Of course she is! How the hell would she know what to do when she was suddenly dragged in a situation like this? Her mind was completely blank!
Kyouya leaned in and made his way up to her, planting a soft kiss on her forhead before leading down to the soft pink of cheeks, down to the bridge of her nose, and finally settling to kiss her lips.
Amaya tensed at once and feeling this, Kyouya pulled away to look at her. "Just relax. I'm not gonna hurt you."
She nodded once and Kyouya wrapped his arm around her waist as he trailed kissed down her neck. He fumbled for the buttons of her blouse when she jerked her arm up and accidentally bumped with Kyouya's chin. "Ow."
He sat up and massaged the sore spot and Amaya touched it affectionately. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Kyouya sighed and narrowed his eyes when he looked up to meet her gaze. Is she really gonna be all right?
"Amaya, just calm down. We can't do anything if you fuss like this."
She cleared her throat while running her hand at the back of her head. "It's just that--"
Would she have the courage to tell him to stop? How would an Ootori Kyouya react if he was rejected. It was her first time. She would be happy if she would do it with him but it was something she still wasn't prepared for.
"Amaya?" She snapped out of her trance and jumped.
"Kyo--I mean, what's with this bed?" Her voice was up to twice its volume. "Not romantic at all! Of course it's my first time and it should be romantic. Thousands of rose petals should be scattered all over the room and the bathroom should be accentuated with hundreds of scented candles to match. The light's too bright, look! It's stinging my eyes. And besides, I didn't prepare cute underwear--" she blushed at the last sentence and continued. "Everything else should be in order before we--"
Kyouya smiled. She was still a child after all. He leaned in and pecked her forehead and whispered against her ear. "If you're still not ready, you should have just told me."
He cupped her jaw and made her look at him. His other hand tucked the stray hair away from her tousled hair and she stared at him with wide green eyes. "No matter what happens, I want you to be honest with me. I could always wait. Just don't make me wait so long, okay?"
It was Amaya's turn to smile then and pull his head closer to plant a kiss atop his hair. "Thank you."
"Hn." Kyouya detached himself from her and stood up. "Meanwhile, I have to take a shower. I'll treat you out for dinner so better get youself dressed. Wanna join me in?"
Amaya frowned at his remark and got hold of the nearest pillow within her reach. With a jerk, he threw it to his direction. "Pervert."
"It's wide enough for the two of us," he further suggested.
"Dammit Kyouya! Enough of that already!"
He chuckled as she pouted stubbornly before he pulled a towel and went straight to the bathroom, a warm smile, seemingly permanently plastered across his face.
---
It was in the middle of winter and Tamaki, as overly-sentimental as he is, gathered up the host club members and went on a vacation on the mountains. They carried young Touya along and Amaya was rightfully invited as she is Kyouya's wife and has now become a part of the family.
"In any way possible, tell me why we have to go with that idiot's plan for winter break?"
Kyouya sat at the far end of the bed of their room as Amaya gathered up her things for a quick bath.
"Kyou-kun, he's your best friend and he misses you a lot," she whined unecessarily and completely gave up idea of taking a bath and plopped down beside her husband who was clutching a plump pillow between his arms, squeezing it firmly and clenching his teeth as he did so.
"He's just overly-dramatic. This isn't necessary anyway!"
He threw the pillow on the floor and grabbedd Amaya's waist instead to pull her closer.
"Kyouya! What are you doing?!"
Alarmed, she tried to push his hands away to simply end up disappointed. He nuzzed his face on the crook of her neck and blew kisses against the soft skin, trailing up to the shell of her ear.
"Kyou--!"
"It's cold. Aren't you cold?"
"It's--"
The door opened wide and they froze.
"Sorry."
It was Haruhi who stood by the threshold, blushing furiously and looking away as her eyes landed on the ancient Roman painting that decorated the wall. "Dinner's ready."
With one swift motion, she turned away and closed the door behind.
Amaya regained her cool at once and turned to her stoned husband. Bracing herself, she landed a soft smack on the side of his head, as if affectionately reprimanding a child. One could feign anger, of course. "See what you've done? Idiot."
He sat still, not caring about Amaya who walked away (she'd forgive him the moment she sees his smiling face anway), not caring about the the sound of the closing door. He sat there as his mind replayed over Haruhi's expression when she walked in on them--when she opened the door with that look on her face. She wasn't supposed to show that face. He could always identify that kind of expression--that one which Amaya always wore in the past when she felt so alone, that one he sees himself wearing whenever the media would publicize anything about the progress between Haruhi and Tamaki's relationship. It was always the same: pain.
---
He stood by her door, his mind completely jumbled and his heart stinging painfully. The rest of the group had gone to hike but Haruhi insisted to stay over since there wasn't anyone else to take care of little Touya. The servants weren't around to be of service after all, thanks to the ever-stupid Tamaki who sent them on a day off exactly before they checked in.
Haruhi opened her door and a her large eyes flashed with surprise. "Kyouya?"
"Haruhi, we need to talk."
---
"Hikaru!" Amaya called out and her voice echoed through. The ash-haired boy's head snapped back to look at her.
"What? There's no need to shout, I can hear you."
She snickered uncontrollably and Hikaru walked up to her, reaching out to readjust her scarf and her ear mufflers.
"Where's Kyouya?"
His nose scrunched with her question and turned away. "How am I supposed to know? He's your husband!"
"Eeh? Was he left behind?"
"Like I care! Go back and look for him then!"
She seemed taken aback with is sudden aloofness. Nevertheless, she showed a smile on her face. "All right then, I'll go search for him. You can move on with the rest! We'll go catch up!"
With one swift movement, she turned away and ran back down.
"You gotta be kidding me!" Hikaru cursed while losening his jacket quite a bit and ran to catch up with her. How can a girl like her with no sense of direction at all, be able to go back to the villa alone anyway?
---
He was frozen, rooted on the spot where he stood with his eyes wide.
She stood there, in front of him, her face marked with pain and regret.
"Why did you choose him over me then?" he asked, his voice rasp. He was holding back. Holding back to prevent his arms to pull her to a close embrace, holding back to quiet his words he wanted to speak out and show her that after all these years, he remained deeply in love with her.
All the frozen feelings were back now, and the present didn't matter anymore. At that very moment, Amaya didn't matter anymore. It was just him and Haruhi.
"You were first one who turned your back on our relatioship," she whispered silently while taking a catious step toward him. "You could have stopped the marriage but you didn't. Before I could protest, you were already giving up and Tamaki was there to support me."
She was exceptionally close now and he wasn't hearing anymore. Kyouya could smell her usual fragrance. It was the same as before, as if nothing has changed at all. She wrapped her arms around his waist and Kyouya pulled her closer, enjoying her warmth. It was the same as Amaya's yet a lot more comforting. How he missed doing this. God knows how long he had been longing for her warm touch. It has been lightyears since he last held her like this.
"But I figured that no matter how much I force myself to forget about you, I love you even more."
He almost wished he could stop time from progressing and be able to hold her forever.
---
After several wrong turns and tripping-over-flat-surfaces later, Amaya found the villa they were staying at. Lucky Hikaru was there to help her out or else, she could have ended dead meat in the middle of the forest, brutally mutilated by a wild beast.
No matter how wild her imagination was, nevertheless, she raided each room on the mansion to look for her husband. The hell with his laziness and lack of motivation to enjoy his only break all throughout the year.
A door stood ajar and she stopped, with Hikaru almost bumping onto her back with her sudden halt.
"--but I knew that it's too late to take it back," Haruhi's voice spoke and a sudden jolt of pain rushed through that she had to clutch her chest to know if it was still there. "We could never be together again. You're married to Amaya. I have Tamaki and Touya and there's no reason to go back and redo what has happened. I have no regrets."
Amaya leaned against the wall for support and Hikaru turned away so he wouldn't see the anguish that wiped her face.
Kyouya's voice was cool yet sincere, his usual composure lingering still. "I know that. There's no turning back now."
Tears welled up and she started to cry, the pain surging further.
"For the last time, can I kiss you?"
Hikaru stood there, frozen still, his eyes rooted on the stain of his boot. He wasn't supposed to hear this. He wasn't supposed to be here, in front of Amaya, as they accidentally walked in on Haruhi and Kyouya's conversation.
He wanted to strangle Kyoya until he was satisfied but he couldn't bring himself to do it. How dare he play with this girl's feelings, making her believe that he was deeply in love--that they were deeply in love.
He wanted to pull Haruhi away and make her realize that she's totally wrong. To make her realize how much pain she was bringing to this fragile girl in front of him. Haruhi's married. Furthermore, she and Tamaki were bound by their child. Why is she even acting like this?
Amaya pushed herself away from the wall and struggled to regain her balance as Hikaru helped her out. She stepped inside the the room and peeked in.
And then, the pain on her heart worsened and she had to make more effort to catch her breath. It was suffocating.
Kyoya had leaned in as Haruhi wrapped her arms around his neck to meet his kiss.
A large hand suddenly covered her eyes and jerked her head as she landed on Hikaru's chest, her tears flowing nonstop that he had to drag her out quietly.
It was painful.
That she fell in love with someone who happened to be the cruelest man she had ever met.
That this man even let her believe that the love he masked was true and sincere.
That this man, after all of the things they've been through, after all of the things she had done, remained loyal to another woman's heart.
'I want to fall in love with you.'
The attempt has failed.
'You're the only girl I'm crazy about.'
'For guys to see you wearing this sort of thing and to let them with their disgusting and dirty thoughts annoys me the most.'
'I could always wait.'
These were all lies.
Because now, everything had fallen out of place. The other peices were gone and the puzzle was now impossible to be whole again.
---
They were back to the Ootori mansion and Amaya had locked herself up on her room. He didn't know why. Heck, she wasn't even the usual Amaya who would bug him endlessly all through the course of the rest of their vacation.
What had happened between him and Haruhi was now something he didn't regret. Looking back at what he had done and what had happened, he had to agree with what she said. The feelings were still there, but the impossibility of what they would hope to have is clear. They both have seperate lives now. And what he had to do is treasure what he has in the present.
He turned the knob and pushed the door open. Amaya was curled on the bed, silent and unmoving.
"Aya, it's late morning. Get your butt off the mattress."
"Kyouya, please leave." She didn't even bother to move and look up to see him.
"Get up. We're off to a business trip. Didn't you say you want to come along?"
"I've changed my mind. Just leave."
"Are you not feeling well?"
"I'm fine. Please leave."
"I'm not leaving unless you tell me what's wrong."
"I don't want to see you right now. Leave!"
"Wh--"
Tachibana had knocked and opened the door. "Master, we're going to be late."
"Fine," he scoffed and turned to follow Tachibana on the door. "If you don't want me, fine. I'm leaving now."
---
She baffled him. One moment they were doing just fine and next thing he knew, she was acting so cold. He didn't know what the hell happened and damn he wanted the reason why she was acting so weird that she wasn't the Amaya he used to know anymore. How many days had he last seen her face anyway? She always kept her eyes away that he came to miss how deep they were.
He swore to the heavens he'll fly back to Japan as soon as he finished with business.
---
His room was adorned with red rose petals that it almost looked like someone was murdered and there was a lot of blood. He had to admit it was an exaggeration of the designers he hired to decorate his room. An aromatic scent wafted on the air and a bundle of pale-colored candles were set up to serve as a faint source of light to illuminate the entire bedroom.
Amaya was brought inside and she plopped down on the bed, with a blindfold on and the door was locked at once. She was quite surprised with the scene that greeted her as she pulled her blindfold off.
The bathroom door opened to reveal a half-naked Ootori Kyouya with only a pair of boxers on, his robe hanging loosely on his shoulders.
He stode up to her with a smile on his face. He stopped right in front of her, as he leaned in to plant a kiss on her forehead.
"How is it?" he asked while forcing her to look at him. "I've set up a large number of scented candles on the bathroom, and more than a handful of rose petals on the bed. I could say that the atmosphere's quite good and you missed your husband so much for being away for a couple of days."
It was those couple of days that she took advantage of to cool down a bit and analyze the things that just happened. She looked back at what Hruhi had said.
She felt that she was played with.
That she was merely a tool to use so he could forget.
A mere substitute.
Kyouya nuzzled against the crook of her neck, and he planted kisses down her soft skin, trailing it down to the strap of her blouse and to her shoulder.
"What am I to you?"
It was a question Amaya fired and he stopped, looking up to meet her eyes. "Why are you asking that now when the atmosphere's too good to refuse."
"Do you still love Haruhi? What am I to you?"
"Amaya, we've been through this sort of thing. It's not a new issue. I told you I've gotten over her already."
Silence.
"Shall we go on?"
"Why do you have to lie and pretend that you love me?"
"Amaya, what are you talking about? I'm not--"
She bit her lower lip to stop the tears from welling up again. "Why do you have to make me believe that you were real? Why do you have to tell me you love me? Why do you have to be with Haruhi that night and tell her that you still love her? Why do you have to ask if you could kiss her? Why do you--?"
The tears had formed now, and trailed down to her cheeks. "I don't know why! I don't understand! Tell me."
He was stunned. Had she known? Had she seen what they had done that night? Had she heard what they had talked about?
Dammit, Kyouya!
"Amaya--"
"Why--"
"Amaya! It's all over now. You're the only one--"
"Please don't lie anymore. You only make it harder for me."
"Don't you trust me?" He stood up from where he knelt in front of her.
"I used to trust you but right now, I don't know anymore. I don't understand."
He looked away, his teeth clenched together tightly. He didn't know what to feel nor what to say in the first place. It was his fault and he'd never get to come to the decision to admit that he was wrong.
He turned his back on the person he loved.
Refused her.
And so did she, for the sake of this girl in front of him.
Kyouya knew she was hurt. But didn't she realize how much he had to give up, just to simply make her happy? He loved Haruhi, but he also came to love Amaya. It baffled him why she was acting this way.
"Do you want to hear what I have to say?"
"No I don't."
"Do you hate me?"
She sniffled quietly and spoke. "I hate you."
"Fine."
He could never talk to someone, could never open up to someone who wouldn't even bother to listen to what he had to say.
---
Sixteen months ago, Hanazono Amaya stood outside of the cathedral with her wedding dress, perfectly created by the best designers in the whole fashion world. She was very pretty and anyone could tell that it was the wedding that anyone would ask for.
A perfect groom.
A perfect wedding.
They were all wrong. In spite of all these perfection, she wasn't happy. In a matter of hours, she would come greet his husband with a 'smile' on her face, pretending that she was marrying the guy she always loved.
That was all what people knew about their relationship. The elders lied to the media, to all the people, saying that they've been dating steadily for the past few months. They were not. It was all a joke. It was all just a bluff. They were never in love.
---
Ten months ago, Amaya sat by herself, wondering if she was, as much as she wanted to deny it herself, falling in love with this guy. This particular guy who would do anything for profit. This particular guy who would plot out plans for his own advantage, simply to get his father's attention. Who was indifferent ever since that day they were bound by marriage.
She didn't know.
Kyouya was still in love with her. With the girl he had to give up because Amaya had to jump in the scene.
She wasn't so surprised that he was crazy about Haruhi. She was plain, yet extaordinarily beautiful in her own way. She was blunt, yet she could stump you with her words--each one overflowing with hidden meaning that anyone would be interested to crack.
She was one girl Ootori Kyouya would simply fall head over heels with.
And she was simply Amaya, a plain-looking girl with surprisingly damn rich father, forced into his life--into his family--so their power and wealth could expand much, much further.
He would never come to love her back, and that, she was sure of.
---
Four months ago, she was frozen by the countertop as Kyouya leaned down to whisper on her ear words she always wanted him to speak.
"I want to fall in love with you."
"I could forget Haruhi and fall in love with you."
She was happy--lost in her own world and speechless to death as she almost forgot how to formulate coherent sentences.
She was happy, more than words could ever explain--that the only man she ever loved was asking for permission to capture her heart when it was always for him all along.
---
Kyouya had lied.
He was the same old Ootori Kyouya after all--aloof and cruel. Amaya was just too stupid to fall on his trap.
And now, because of that stupidity, she was hurting.
---
The dining room was enveloped with silence as they sat by each end of the long table while contemplating their late dinner.
Weeks, it had been that the whole mansion would be covered with awkward silence whenever they were both around.
Weeks, it had been, when they last spoke to each other. They would come meet on hallways, but they would never stop and jump into a conversation. They would never share the same pint of ice cream like before, never sit on the same couch and watch the late news or Amaya's favorite cartoon show.
Never would everything go back to where it normally was.
They were cold. And the warmth they both radiated, the warmth that Amaya emitted to glow the whole mansion, had lost its spark and died out. Never could she even imagine herself that she would go back to how she used to be.
Kyouya leaned back on his chair and pushed the untouched plate away. He heaved a long sigh while pushing himself up, with the legs of the chair screeching noisily against the marble floor. "I'm going to bed."
She wanted to push him away, yell at him so her anger would dissapate, but the problem is: she couldn't. She could not bring herself to accuse him of hurting her. Of making her expect when there wasn't anything to wait for. She was very wrong to trust the Kyouya who told her that he loved her. Who told her that he would do anything to protect her. These were all pathetic make-believes. She knew she wasn't in a fairytale and there were no happily-ever-after endings to look forward to. She was so wrong.
She tried to walk away. To get out of his sight once and for all so she wouldn't continue hurting anymore. It was all painful to bear. Almost impossible even, that it was almost killing her inside. And yet, she sat there, frozen as he stared at her with grey eyes full of emotions she couldn't figure out. Her mind was too blank to think straight.
He turned away to head for the door so he could avert his eyes away from hers. It hurt him inside that they've gone cold. It seemed only yesterday that he held her so close, taking in her scent, feeling her warmth. It was all gone now.
"Kyouya."
It was a voice he missed for so long as he stopped by the door, his hand freezing midway to push it open. How long had he last heard her voice anyway?
"I want a divorce."
For a moment, he tried to register her words as they ran past his ears. They seemed so distant and it was piercing him
The pain was too much to bear. But as an Ootori as he is, he feigned an unknowing smile and turned to face the girl that sat there, quiet, unmoving, lost in her silent despair. They were both stupid.
They were both childish.
"Then," he started as he turned back on the door as he manged to push it open. "I'll ask Haruhi to arrange the paperwork."
---
Amaya was never strong. Len had always thought she was. Her father had always thought she was. But they were both wrong. She was never that girl. She was weak.
She sat on the far end of the bench, as she took in the late December chill. She wore nothing to protect herself from the sudden drop of the temperature as another gush of wind blew against her face and she shivered from the cold.
The whole mansion had gone in a total chaos as they searched for her. Kyouya sat there, his mind calculating and in panic as he thought of places to where she possibly could have gone. He raided the game arcade that morning, yet she was nowhere to be found. And then, he settled to calm himself by going back home for a cup of tea, which was barely helping.
"Tachibana." He tried to hide the worry on hs voice but it was a feeble attempt to do so. "Gather up the Ootori Private Police to search for her. Bring her back before dusk." He even supressed beg.
In a distance, a hand covered over a mouth and whispered, "If master's worrying that much about young mistress, why do they have to divorce anyway?"
Kyouya pretended not to hear, yet he was wondering so himself.
---
"It's not a very good place to go if you're attempting to run away, you know?" a familiar voice spoke and Amaya turned to look up and away from her frozen toes that curled against the heap of snow beneath her feet.
"Did he ask you to look for me?" she asked as the black-haired woman draped her coat over her shoulders and sat at the other end of the bench.
"The whole mansion was in chaos when I arrived and Sumire-san told me you were missing. I was worried."
Silence took over and it was merely broken when a small sparrow perched itself on the middle of the bench and pecked unseen crumbs on the surface.
Finally, Fuyumi cleared her throat and spoke. "He's worried about you. At least listen to what he has to say."
"I don't want to trust him anymore, neesan. I have had enough."
Things wouldn't go back they way they used to. Not now that a crack has formed on the surface of the glass, threathening to shatter into million pieces.
One hand reached out to touche her arm affectionately, "Aya, I'm here."
There was Len, his hair tousled in different directions. He pulled Amaya into a tight hug and buried his face on the crook of her neck. "You're cold."
"Oniisan."
When he pulled away, he turned to face Fuyumi, his face unmasked with rage and anger. "Fuyumi-san, please do tell your brother Amaya's moving back to our home. He's done enough damage to my sister."
Without another word, he swooped her up and carried her to his back as Amaya burst into tears.
---
The divorce papers were signed and everything else was settled. Amaya's things were moved out the mansion. Her presence, her clothes, they were all gone. When Kyouya entered his room that day to retire after a whole day's work, he had found his shirt Amaya previously used as night pajamas. He pulled it out of the couch and it had a mingling scent of her perfume and his own.
Sleep rubbed off him and he lay awake for the whole night, thinking about what had happened and what he had done wrong that she had to walk out of his life. He stood up and raided the maid's quarters, demanding for the key of Amaya's previous room.
It was all nostalgic as he sat on her bed, the scent of her intoxicating him. Everything about the room told her that Amaya has been there. That she indeed has become a part of his life and she almost stayed for good.
The calendar from the previous year lay atop her drawer and he remembered how much she cared about him that she even threw that invitation Tamaki and Haruhi had given them for their wedding. Just so it wouldn't hurt him seeing his best friend and the woman he loved get married.
The skirt she had used on their trip to France was there, folded neatly on the bottom drawer, discarded and forgotten. The yearbook was also there. He remembered it before and it was his. The pages covered the host club's pictures and Haruhi's, along with the other faces of their batch.
Even the owl she bought for him on her birthday lay on her bed. With its large yellow eyes, it too, felt quite lonely that she had gone.
No matter how much he wanted to wake up from reality, it would always chase him back.
Kyouya skipped office and Fuyumi dropped by. They sat on the veranda, sipping coffee, not quite enjoying the peacefulness of the atmosphere. Somehow, it had become awkward.
"She's gone now, huh?" Fuyumi spoke first and broke the silence.
Kyouya remained silent. It was the truth. But it was something that would definitely be hard to accept.
"But this is what you want, right?" Fuyumi went on. Her brother is cruel and she knew that. She knew it was a fact that Amaya had to suffer with. But nonetheless, Kyouya is still human. No matter how much he would do anything for profit, no matter how much he would tell and show everyone else that there is nothing else important to his life besides money and business, he's still human. "You still love Haruhi, right?"
There was eternal silence before he spoke. "I still love Haruhi."
But it was a lie. No matter how much he wanted himself to belive that he still loves her, it would always stand as a lie. Because his heart is screaming otherwise.
---
"You love design, right?" Hikaru asked as he sat across Amaya who was skimming through a new release of the Hitachiin fashion magazine. He dropped by to check on her and it seemed that she was doing just fine. It has been almost a week after the divorce and Amaya seemed to be taking it so well, even though he knew how much it hurt.
She looked to him with a questioning eye, curious on why he suddenly brought it up.
"I'm opening a design school in Milan. I reckon you should somehow indulge yourself with something else as a distraction."
She understood. After all, after that divorce, everyone else seemed to have rushed to her aid to help her stand up. She was also thankful that she had such friends that she could rely on. Or else she would just break down without anyone to turn to.
"I'm fine, Hikaru. Thanks for your concern but I just can't leave now."
Amaya's a strong woman after all. And that was what he liked about her.
NOT. She was never that woman.
---
To say Ootori Kyouya is angry is an understatement. He was furious. To the point that he wanted to kick something real hard until it shatters like a piece of glass. How can he be so stupid?! For the first time in his whole life, he admitted that he was entirely wrong! That he was an idiot to not know and realize everything until that everything was taken away from him.
"Amaya, open up!"
The servants of the Hanazono mansion were in an uproar. It was a command to not let the youngest Ootori inside the grounds, much less inside the house itself. It was an order from Len, and it wouldn't be diswayed.
Until Ootori Kyouya declared his intention of breaking down the door.
"AMAYA!"
Amaya sat on her bed; the blankets covered up her entire form. Kyouya was there and she was afraid that she would break down if he saw that familiar face that broke her heart. She was acting childish, she was aware of that. But she was scared that the emotions would once again resurface if he saw him there, that the tears would form again and flow out of her system. She didn't want that.
Len equaled his anger and he wrenched the door open, his teeth clenched together tightly and his knuckles almost turning white agaist his grip on the dorr handle. "What?!"
"Good. I'm seeing Amaya."
"No one's going to see my sister."
"There is. I am."
And without another warning, Kyouya pushed him aside as he stormed up to Amaya's room, with Len and the servants following suit. "Ootori, stop right there!"
When he reached her door, he wrenched it open and slammed it against Len's face.
She was there, covered in a large blanket, shaking.
"Amaya--"
"Don't get close! I don't want to see you right now."
"It's been a week," he wasn't listening as he strode up to her bed.
"I said, don't get close! Aren't you listening?!"
"It has just been seven days and I'm right here, talking to you already."
"I don't want to listen! Get out of my room!"
"Listen to me," he sat on the bed and she backed away, without the blankets falling. "It has just been a week yet I couldn't take it anymore."
"Please get out of my room," Amaya spoke, her voice quivering.
"Will you please just listen to me?!"
And then, she started to cry. Under the covers, she broke down. Kyouya sighed and shifted his weight so he could wrap his arms around her. He pulled her closer when she didn't struggle to let go.
"Are you listening now?"
She didn't anwser. Instead, he was welcomed with more of her sobs but he decided to go on.
"I can't let you go. I've come to realize that it would kill me if I do that. I'm never going to let go of you anymore. It was just a week and it felt like eternity."
"Haru--"
"Stop talking about Haruhi right now! She's not the issue here!"
"It's all about Haruhi!"
"That's because I'm stupid to not learn how much my life meant when you were with me until you were gone!"
"I don't--hic--believe you!"
Kyouya sighed. "I sit here like an idiot, hugging a stuffed human and you still think I'm lying?"
"You said before--"
"Look at me," he dropped his hands on the fabric and tugged it down. Amaya held the blanket closer.
"Hey, look at me." He tugged it harder and it fell down to her sides. God knows how long he had seen her. It must have been forever.
She was looking down, her eyes averted on the stripes of her pajama pants and Kyouya tucked his hand on her chin, pushing it up to force her to look at him. She was closing her eyes.
"Please look at me and belive what I'm saying. Please."
"You're a lying bast--!"
Kyouya grabbed her hand and placed on his left chest. Amaya blinked in surprise as she felt the erratic beating of his heart.
"Feel it and believe me."
His face was marked with pain and sincerity, and she bursted further into tears.
With a faint smile, Kyouya pulled her back into a hug and she didn't struggle to push him away.
"I love you, Amaya," he whispered on her ear and she drenched the front of his shirt further until it was soaking. "And forgive me if I brought you so much pain."
Silence.
"Are we fine now?"
"I hate you!"
Kyouya chuckled amusingly and dropped a kiss on her shoulder. From now on, things will definitely work out.
-+-
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
A Vampire's Story
_________
Chapter One
_________
Blood aroused his senses.
He thirsted for it. Longed for its taste and its sweet, coppery tang. The flow of it past his lips, as it drizzled down his neck. It was what kept him alive. What kept him breathing.
He perched atop a branch of a tree, positioned to strike as he waited for his prey. The scent was pungent, strong--arousing his senses even more as the wind blew to his direction and a shiver ran up to his spine. It was dearly driving him to the brink of insanity.
"Such delicious scent," he muttered to himself as his scarlet eyes flashed wide and his tongue traced his lips while feeling the sharpness of his fangs.
He stood up from where he sat, his bare toes curling on the bark of his footing as he leaned forward, watching his prey pick its pace as it looked around the darkness of the empty alleyway.
He crouched down slightly and lunged forward, smoothly landing right in front of his beloved food. He smirked, his sharp fangs dangerously flaring as he watched his victim squirm and stagger back, its voice lost in fear.
He bared his teeth and his victim shuddered. It knew it was nearing its end.
He was famished. He sprang forward, trapping it with his limbs as he took in its scent. Indeed, human blood would equal more than ambrosia, the food of the gods.
His fangs sank in--right on the crook of his victim's neck and it screamed in agony, its life bordering to its predicted death. Blood spurted out and it dirtied his clothes which were already smudged with unknown filth. He sank his teeth deeper, puncturing the soft skin and lavishing his tongue around the wound.
Blood drove him in ecstasy, one which only vampires would know and get to understand.
His victim lay limp on his arms, drained and spent. He had indulged himself too much. Its body thumped quietly against the asphalt as he dropped it uselessly, pools of blood splattered everywhere.
Breathing in the fresh, cold air, a smile played on the corners of his lips. He was satisfied.
Chapter One
_________
Blood aroused his senses.
He thirsted for it. Longed for its taste and its sweet, coppery tang. The flow of it past his lips, as it drizzled down his neck. It was what kept him alive. What kept him breathing.
He perched atop a branch of a tree, positioned to strike as he waited for his prey. The scent was pungent, strong--arousing his senses even more as the wind blew to his direction and a shiver ran up to his spine. It was dearly driving him to the brink of insanity.
"Such delicious scent," he muttered to himself as his scarlet eyes flashed wide and his tongue traced his lips while feeling the sharpness of his fangs.
He stood up from where he sat, his bare toes curling on the bark of his footing as he leaned forward, watching his prey pick its pace as it looked around the darkness of the empty alleyway.
He crouched down slightly and lunged forward, smoothly landing right in front of his beloved food. He smirked, his sharp fangs dangerously flaring as he watched his victim squirm and stagger back, its voice lost in fear.
He bared his teeth and his victim shuddered. It knew it was nearing its end.
He was famished. He sprang forward, trapping it with his limbs as he took in its scent. Indeed, human blood would equal more than ambrosia, the food of the gods.
His fangs sank in--right on the crook of his victim's neck and it screamed in agony, its life bordering to its predicted death. Blood spurted out and it dirtied his clothes which were already smudged with unknown filth. He sank his teeth deeper, puncturing the soft skin and lavishing his tongue around the wound.
Blood drove him in ecstasy, one which only vampires would know and get to understand.
His victim lay limp on his arms, drained and spent. He had indulged himself too much. Its body thumped quietly against the asphalt as he dropped it uselessly, pools of blood splattered everywhere.
Breathing in the fresh, cold air, a smile played on the corners of his lips. He was satisfied.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
May pasok ako no'n. Hapon pa ang kaisa-isang subject namin sa buong araw kaya panuod-nuod lang ako ng telebisyon habang umiinom ng kape, na siguradong mag-papaalburoto na naman sa tiyan ko kaya diretsyo akong banyo pagkatapos. Tamad akong tumayo para ilipat ang channel manually sa pamamagitan ng mga buton sa mismong TV kaya ni-raid ko muna ang buong sala para lang hanapin ang remote, na sa panahong 'yon, ay nasa tabi ko lang pala.
Sinalubong ako ni Spongebob ng sumisigaw ng kung-ano kasama si Patrick at Squidward na nagmumukhang sira-ulo sa show na kinalalabasan nila.
Nang matapos ang palabas, na halos isang daan at tatlumpung beses ko na siguro napanood, nagpalit na uli ako ng channel at nanood ng balita. Ako na lang mag-isa sa bahay dahil nagsi-aral na ang dalawa ko'ng asungot na kapatid, at nagtrabaho na ang parents ko.
Bumungad sa 'kin ang isa na namang kontrobersya ukol sa mahal nating pangulong si Gloria Macapagal Arroyo (GMA). Tila napapanahon ang mga kontrobesiya sa kaniya sa panahong nakalipas, ano?
Pagkatapos ng Hello Garci Wiretapping, sumunod and ZTE Broadband Deal. Umarangkada ang tsismis (na lumalabas na totoo) tungkol sa pinaretoke niyang dibdib. At marami pa in between, s'yempre. Latest na nga lang ang nasabing $20,000 worth of dinner na nilamon niya at nga mga kampon niya eeh.
Sa buong termino ni Gloria, hindi na siguro natahimik ang buhay niya.
Alam na siguro natin kung bakit siya naluklok sa pwesto? Dahil siya ang vice-president noon ni Erap, na pinatalsik ng mamamayang Pilipino noong EDSA People Power 2, instant ang rise to power ni Gloria. Siya ang second lady president ng Pilipinas. Natapos ang termino niya, at dumaan ang eleksyon. Nabanggit niya na hindi siya tatakbo. Pero last minute ng pag-fifile ng candidacy, humabol ang cute nating presidente.
Hail para sa inconsistency ng ating dakilang pangulo!
At ngayon naman, sa nalalapit na 2010 Elections, tumataas na naman ang demand ng mga balitang kumakalat tungkol sa kaniya. Yun ngang nasabing expensive dinner sa abroad kasama ang mga alagad niya.
Hindi na siguro maloloko ang mga tao sa lame nilang excuse na galing ang pondo nila sa bulsa ng isang kongresman. Teka, sa'n ba naliligaw ang kamay ng mga congressman? Hindi ba sa kaban ng bayan din? Bulag na lang siguro ang magsasabi na hindi pa corrupt ang halos 99.9% ng mga pulitiko sa bansa. Ito ang greates drug ng mga pulitiko: PERA.
Masusunog siguro ang kaluluwa nila dahil sa isang pamatay na tanong lang: "Tumanggap ka na ba ng suhol at kumupit sa pera ng mga Pilipino?"
Sigurado yan. Numero uno sila sa pagsisinungaling.
Nagbabayad tayo ng tax nang tama at kumpleto, kung sino pa nga ang mga kapos, sila pa ang kumakayod ng doble, para lang umabot ang sweldo nilang kakarampot para pang-kain ng pamilya at pambayad ng tax. Dadagdag pa ang dumadagungdong na VAT at iba-ibang price-hikes kaya mas nasasadlak sila sa kahirapan.
Habang ang mga mayayaman, na literal na nakahiga sa salapi, sila pa ang nakakasuhan ng estafa at kung-anuano pang kasong may ugnay sa pera.
Ang mga pulitiko, nagpapakasasa sa pera habang milyon-milyong Pilipino ng dumaranas ng kahirapan, milyon-milyong bata ang walang sapat na edukasyon, milyon-milyong pamilya ang nagugutom sa daan, milyon-milyong matatanda ang namamatay sa malubha nilang sakit nang mag-isa, milyon-milyong krimen ang nagaganap sa mga akala nati'y ligtas na lugar. May ligtas bang lugar sa Pilipinas?
Ngayong patapos na ang termino ni Gloria, siguradong sinusulit na niya ang panahon niya sa pwesto.
At siyempre, pag naisipan niya na hindi pa sapat ang nakamkam niyang pera sa kaban ng bayan, isusulong niya ang ConAss at tahimik na magdedeklara ng matial law para mapalawig niya ang kaniyang termino.
Kung hindi magbabago ang mga pulitiko, mamamatay na lang tayo ng marahan dahil sa kahirapan dahil napupunta sa bulsa nila ang lahat ng pera na laan para sa mga Pilipino. Baon na tayo sa utang, dinadagdagan pa ng mga sakim na nakaakyat sa pwesto.
Paano susulong ang bansa kung ang mga lider mismo nito, ay silaw sa tukso ng salapi. Na walang ginagawang paraan para iahon ang mga mamamayan sa kahirapan. Oo nga't maraming napatupad na ibaibang batas sa edukasyon, at kalusugan, na para sa ikabubuti ng mga tao, pero bakit tila mas dominante ang mga ito ng mga negatibong resulta na nakakaapekto sa buhay nating mga Pilipino?
Wala na ba talagang pag-asa ang bansa? Ilang ulit na nating sinubukang magkaisa, pero hanggang ngayon, bigo pa rin ng buong bansa na sumulong sa kaunlaran. Hanggang ngayon, napapabilang pa rin tayo sa mga natagurian Third World Countries na may pinasusyal lang na pangalang, Developin Country. Napag-iwanan na tayo ng panahon, nasa baba pa rin ang Pilipinas.
Kailan pa kaya magkakaroon ng pagbabago?
Kinuha ko ang remote ng telebisyon mula sa tabi ko at nagpalit muli ng channel sa TV T. Nakalikha na naman muli si Jimmy Neutron ng isang kamangha-manghang imbensyon. Kailan pa kaya makakalikha ang mga Pinoy ng isang imbensyong makapagpapa-unlad sa sarili niyang bansa?
Sinalubong ako ni Spongebob ng sumisigaw ng kung-ano kasama si Patrick at Squidward na nagmumukhang sira-ulo sa show na kinalalabasan nila.
Nang matapos ang palabas, na halos isang daan at tatlumpung beses ko na siguro napanood, nagpalit na uli ako ng channel at nanood ng balita. Ako na lang mag-isa sa bahay dahil nagsi-aral na ang dalawa ko'ng asungot na kapatid, at nagtrabaho na ang parents ko.
Bumungad sa 'kin ang isa na namang kontrobersya ukol sa mahal nating pangulong si Gloria Macapagal Arroyo (GMA). Tila napapanahon ang mga kontrobesiya sa kaniya sa panahong nakalipas, ano?
Pagkatapos ng Hello Garci Wiretapping, sumunod and ZTE Broadband Deal. Umarangkada ang tsismis (na lumalabas na totoo) tungkol sa pinaretoke niyang dibdib. At marami pa in between, s'yempre. Latest na nga lang ang nasabing $20,000 worth of dinner na nilamon niya at nga mga kampon niya eeh.
Sa buong termino ni Gloria, hindi na siguro natahimik ang buhay niya.
Alam na siguro natin kung bakit siya naluklok sa pwesto? Dahil siya ang vice-president noon ni Erap, na pinatalsik ng mamamayang Pilipino noong EDSA People Power 2, instant ang rise to power ni Gloria. Siya ang second lady president ng Pilipinas. Natapos ang termino niya, at dumaan ang eleksyon. Nabanggit niya na hindi siya tatakbo. Pero last minute ng pag-fifile ng candidacy, humabol ang cute nating presidente.
Hail para sa inconsistency ng ating dakilang pangulo!
At ngayon naman, sa nalalapit na 2010 Elections, tumataas na naman ang demand ng mga balitang kumakalat tungkol sa kaniya. Yun ngang nasabing expensive dinner sa abroad kasama ang mga alagad niya.
Hindi na siguro maloloko ang mga tao sa lame nilang excuse na galing ang pondo nila sa bulsa ng isang kongresman. Teka, sa'n ba naliligaw ang kamay ng mga congressman? Hindi ba sa kaban ng bayan din? Bulag na lang siguro ang magsasabi na hindi pa corrupt ang halos 99.9% ng mga pulitiko sa bansa. Ito ang greates drug ng mga pulitiko: PERA.
Masusunog siguro ang kaluluwa nila dahil sa isang pamatay na tanong lang: "Tumanggap ka na ba ng suhol at kumupit sa pera ng mga Pilipino?"
Sigurado yan. Numero uno sila sa pagsisinungaling.
Nagbabayad tayo ng tax nang tama at kumpleto, kung sino pa nga ang mga kapos, sila pa ang kumakayod ng doble, para lang umabot ang sweldo nilang kakarampot para pang-kain ng pamilya at pambayad ng tax. Dadagdag pa ang dumadagungdong na VAT at iba-ibang price-hikes kaya mas nasasadlak sila sa kahirapan.
Habang ang mga mayayaman, na literal na nakahiga sa salapi, sila pa ang nakakasuhan ng estafa at kung-anuano pang kasong may ugnay sa pera.
Ang mga pulitiko, nagpapakasasa sa pera habang milyon-milyong Pilipino ng dumaranas ng kahirapan, milyon-milyong bata ang walang sapat na edukasyon, milyon-milyong pamilya ang nagugutom sa daan, milyon-milyong matatanda ang namamatay sa malubha nilang sakit nang mag-isa, milyon-milyong krimen ang nagaganap sa mga akala nati'y ligtas na lugar. May ligtas bang lugar sa Pilipinas?
Ngayong patapos na ang termino ni Gloria, siguradong sinusulit na niya ang panahon niya sa pwesto.
At siyempre, pag naisipan niya na hindi pa sapat ang nakamkam niyang pera sa kaban ng bayan, isusulong niya ang ConAss at tahimik na magdedeklara ng matial law para mapalawig niya ang kaniyang termino.
Kung hindi magbabago ang mga pulitiko, mamamatay na lang tayo ng marahan dahil sa kahirapan dahil napupunta sa bulsa nila ang lahat ng pera na laan para sa mga Pilipino. Baon na tayo sa utang, dinadagdagan pa ng mga sakim na nakaakyat sa pwesto.
Paano susulong ang bansa kung ang mga lider mismo nito, ay silaw sa tukso ng salapi. Na walang ginagawang paraan para iahon ang mga mamamayan sa kahirapan. Oo nga't maraming napatupad na ibaibang batas sa edukasyon, at kalusugan, na para sa ikabubuti ng mga tao, pero bakit tila mas dominante ang mga ito ng mga negatibong resulta na nakakaapekto sa buhay nating mga Pilipino?
Wala na ba talagang pag-asa ang bansa? Ilang ulit na nating sinubukang magkaisa, pero hanggang ngayon, bigo pa rin ng buong bansa na sumulong sa kaunlaran. Hanggang ngayon, napapabilang pa rin tayo sa mga natagurian Third World Countries na may pinasusyal lang na pangalang, Developin Country. Napag-iwanan na tayo ng panahon, nasa baba pa rin ang Pilipinas.
Kailan pa kaya magkakaroon ng pagbabago?
Kinuha ko ang remote ng telebisyon mula sa tabi ko at nagpalit muli ng channel sa TV T. Nakalikha na naman muli si Jimmy Neutron ng isang kamangha-manghang imbensyon. Kailan pa kaya makakalikha ang mga Pinoy ng isang imbensyong makapagpapa-unlad sa sarili niyang bansa?
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Different people define happiness in many different ways. Some might say that happiness is something that paints a smile on somebody's face. Or something material like money. Something immarterial like friendship. Although most people, like myself (status at the moment) would follow on other people's definition regarding happiness because they can't define it themselves.
Many theorists including the writer of this blog, had suggested that happiness is indeed, something immarterial and irreplaceable. It may be something you've read in a particular book that you reflected on. Something like, as aforementioned above, friendship and the fulfillment of an unbreakable relationship. Something like a grasshopper that hopped off a blade grass and landed on the surface of the water where it sank and drowned. It could be anything random, I guess.
Different people reflect on happiness on different ways.
But my happiness? Being me, having friends, having God, and having everything that I am possessing right now, be it immaterial or not. Because self-fulfillment must be the happiest gift anyone could have.
How about your happiness?
Many theorists including the writer of this blog, had suggested that happiness is indeed, something immarterial and irreplaceable. It may be something you've read in a particular book that you reflected on. Something like, as aforementioned above, friendship and the fulfillment of an unbreakable relationship. Something like a grasshopper that hopped off a blade grass and landed on the surface of the water where it sank and drowned. It could be anything random, I guess.
Different people reflect on happiness on different ways.
But my happiness? Being me, having friends, having God, and having everything that I am possessing right now, be it immaterial or not. Because self-fulfillment must be the happiest gift anyone could have.
How about your happiness?
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
A Tribute to a Woman of Strength
Philippines' Corazon Aquino died, 3:18 a.m. on Makati General Hospital , first day of August of the year of our Lord, 2009. She died of colon cancer.
Cancer.
One disease that could wrap you into its own little finger and have you kneeling down to beg for your own life. It has killed many, slaughtering even our young children. It picks no particular age, picks no particular gender and status. It kills anyone that comes its way and only a few had survived its wicked hands. The Big C. The most fearful disease known as cancer.
Cory Aquino was just another human that succumbed to the power of the disease.
A great loss, as she was indeed. Not only had she served our country for six years, acting out as our mother and protector, but she was also one mother of her own children, one mother who had her own responsibilities as a single parent, acting three roles at once.
She was a great wife, pushing her husband up, staying by his side to be his strength so he could carry out anything that he had to do.
She portrays a woman of strength. A woman, that in spite of every storm that thunders her frail form, remains strong and stable as her nature--unwavering and undaunted.
"Laban."
Cory Aquino became the foundation of democracy. She proved that a woman, a mere woman can save the whole nation form its opressors. She carried out toughest task anyone could have--leading all the people of the Philippines.
Who would have known that a mere housewife, would be ble to lead a whole lot of people, who at that time, were in total chaos.
Just recently, the whole nation was struck with the sudden news of a terminal disease our Corazon Aquino had to go through: colon cancer.
Ever since the beginning of the issue, we stuck with the media to know the updates regarding our former president's health. Not only were we merely worried; we were concerned. Because the Cory Aquino, the woman of democracy, of strength and of power, is the woman we came to love.
And then, all of a sudden, as the exact greeting of the month of August, the nation is one again, striken with the news of our president's death.
The pain may be mutual.
I have also come to experience the same kind of feeling when my grandmother passed away several years ago because of cervical cancer. I had to go through so much pain because she was the one who acted out as my mother. My mom also had to go through a lot of things so I came to grow up by my grandparents.
They were the closest people in my entire life.
I never knew that she was ever sick. She would come smile and pretend that the pain isn't there but the truth says otherwise. I never found out what kind of sickness she had. I was seven then and I wasn't yet aware of what death meant, or what cancer even had to bring forth.
Thus, the sudden loss of her smile, her touch, her hugs, has been a real shock to me.
"Why had Nanay left?"
It was all so painful.
Because of that, we had to move to another location where me and my two brothers, could be properly taken cared of. My mother and father would then be away for work in the morning and our other grandparents were the ones who took us in. With that, of course, I also had to transfer schools.
It was an entirely different world. A little girl was terrifed of a totally different world.
I felt that I didn't belong. And to add more to my terror, my classmates made me feel that I didn't belong.
This little girl cried a lot then. Her grandmother had left her alone. And even other people had to make it worse.
Although eventually, everything else came in place and things got a lot better because in the end, I had to make things work.
But up until now, whenever the thing about the past would work me up, I'd find myself with eyes welling up with tears.
Okay, I got a little off track. Back to the subject at hand because I'm beginning to be emotional. Again.
What I'm implying is that, the pain the whole Aquino, would always be the same pain that I felt when I lost someone I love because of cancer.
I woke up that morning with the news of her death. When I sat there on the table, staring at the television screen while nibbling my toast, the TV programs played on about what happened almost thrity years ago: the People Power I.
I could not help but to feel proud of being a Filipino. That all of the people came there with one goal: to kick out an opressor that held up our freedom for years. We were never the chinitos, the mestizos, the aetas, because then, we were one.
Corazon Aquino had left a large imprint on the Philippine history. She had left a large mark, one that changed our lives.
And even if she was gone, physically maybe, her spirit would always remain, and the mark that she had left would always be remembered. The legacy that she had left behind, would always urge people to live on, in spite of every obstacle we have to go through. And because of her strength, we are also strong. Because of her binding love, we remain as one. We are Filipinos. And we live for the freedom of our country.
Cancer.
One disease that could wrap you into its own little finger and have you kneeling down to beg for your own life. It has killed many, slaughtering even our young children. It picks no particular age, picks no particular gender and status. It kills anyone that comes its way and only a few had survived its wicked hands. The Big C. The most fearful disease known as cancer.
Cory Aquino was just another human that succumbed to the power of the disease.
A great loss, as she was indeed. Not only had she served our country for six years, acting out as our mother and protector, but she was also one mother of her own children, one mother who had her own responsibilities as a single parent, acting three roles at once.
She was a great wife, pushing her husband up, staying by his side to be his strength so he could carry out anything that he had to do.
She portrays a woman of strength. A woman, that in spite of every storm that thunders her frail form, remains strong and stable as her nature--unwavering and undaunted.
"Laban."
Cory Aquino became the foundation of democracy. She proved that a woman, a mere woman can save the whole nation form its opressors. She carried out toughest task anyone could have--leading all the people of the Philippines.
Who would have known that a mere housewife, would be ble to lead a whole lot of people, who at that time, were in total chaos.
Just recently, the whole nation was struck with the sudden news of a terminal disease our Corazon Aquino had to go through: colon cancer.
Ever since the beginning of the issue, we stuck with the media to know the updates regarding our former president's health. Not only were we merely worried; we were concerned. Because the Cory Aquino, the woman of democracy, of strength and of power, is the woman we came to love.
And then, all of a sudden, as the exact greeting of the month of August, the nation is one again, striken with the news of our president's death.
The pain may be mutual.
I have also come to experience the same kind of feeling when my grandmother passed away several years ago because of cervical cancer. I had to go through so much pain because she was the one who acted out as my mother. My mom also had to go through a lot of things so I came to grow up by my grandparents.
They were the closest people in my entire life.
I never knew that she was ever sick. She would come smile and pretend that the pain isn't there but the truth says otherwise. I never found out what kind of sickness she had. I was seven then and I wasn't yet aware of what death meant, or what cancer even had to bring forth.
Thus, the sudden loss of her smile, her touch, her hugs, has been a real shock to me.
"Why had Nanay left?"
It was all so painful.
Because of that, we had to move to another location where me and my two brothers, could be properly taken cared of. My mother and father would then be away for work in the morning and our other grandparents were the ones who took us in. With that, of course, I also had to transfer schools.
It was an entirely different world. A little girl was terrifed of a totally different world.
I felt that I didn't belong. And to add more to my terror, my classmates made me feel that I didn't belong.
This little girl cried a lot then. Her grandmother had left her alone. And even other people had to make it worse.
Although eventually, everything else came in place and things got a lot better because in the end, I had to make things work.
But up until now, whenever the thing about the past would work me up, I'd find myself with eyes welling up with tears.
Okay, I got a little off track. Back to the subject at hand because I'm beginning to be emotional. Again.
What I'm implying is that, the pain the whole Aquino, would always be the same pain that I felt when I lost someone I love because of cancer.
I woke up that morning with the news of her death. When I sat there on the table, staring at the television screen while nibbling my toast, the TV programs played on about what happened almost thrity years ago: the People Power I.
I could not help but to feel proud of being a Filipino. That all of the people came there with one goal: to kick out an opressor that held up our freedom for years. We were never the chinitos, the mestizos, the aetas, because then, we were one.
Corazon Aquino had left a large imprint on the Philippine history. She had left a large mark, one that changed our lives.
And even if she was gone, physically maybe, her spirit would always remain, and the mark that she had left would always be remembered. The legacy that she had left behind, would always urge people to live on, in spite of every obstacle we have to go through. And because of her strength, we are also strong. Because of her binding love, we remain as one. We are Filipinos. And we live for the freedom of our country.
Friday, July 31, 2009
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