Business (Kyoya Ootori)

Chapter 4

My struggle: IS IT "KNIT" OR "KNITTED" BECAUSE NEITHER OF THEM LOOK RIGHT.

Chapter 4 – Renge's "Great" Idea Doesn't Sound Great to Me

Days end and another takes its place, and while they say that each sunrise is a new beginning, why do I always find myself living the same chaos-filled plot every time? I sighed at the voice in my head, willing it to stop reminding me of the Host Club as I rubbed at my temples, trying and failing to ignore the shouts of many girls behind me.

"I haven't slept in days..." I mumbled to myself, "but I've got to finish this." I picked up my pencil for about the millionth time that afternoon, staring intensely at the same problem I'd been stuck on for the past half hour even though no solution came to my mind. I gave up after a few minutes, however, when another cry of "Oh, Tamaki!" sounded right as I'd made a move to try and answer the question. I turned in my seat and reeled my arm back, preparing to throw my pencil across the room.

"No, Isabella." Pouting at the harsh voice of my fiancé, I spun back around to face him sitting at the other side of my table, his laptop placed strategically on his thigh instead of the table top itself, where all of my work was littered. He'd hardly even looked up to scold me, his eyes darting back and forth from a calculator to his laptop in intense focus. "Tamaki may be annoying, but he earns most of the Club's revenue. If you throw something at him, he'll get depressed and even more annoying than before – it'll probably scare away his customers."

Sighing yet again, I set my pencil down on the table, but not without stabbing my workbook one more time before I did. I snapped the offensive book shut and pushed it aside to make room for a cake that Haruhi, who's timing was spot-on, offered me. I nodded thanks and hesitantly dug into the beautiful slice, resisting the urge to voice my pleasure at the taste when the chocolate melted on my tongue.

"T-this is good," I told Kyoya quietly, shovelling bite after bite into my mouth a little faster than was polite. His lips quirked up into a slight smirk as he hummed in agreement, all the while never glancing away from his work and using the back of his hand to push his glasses up.

I paused my feast, however, when the twins piped up nearby, asking Kyoya about album collections that he sold on occasion. "Well, yes, the Club does make a fair amount of money from those promotional items, but all of our photos are taken secretly and can hardly be considered professional. Hiring a photographer for better quality pictures would only draw from the school's budget."

There were a couple of minutes of silence after that, other than Kyoya tapping away at his keyboard and the odd Host or customer in the background loudly exclaiming something. I watched him patiently, staring at his fingers as they swiftly moved from one side of the keyboard to the other until he suddenly closed the lid of his laptop, resting his now free hand on top of it. I glanced up to see his gaze on me, an irritated look on his face (at first, I thought it was because of me staring at him, and I gulped, but he spoke of something else entirely only seconds later).

"Do you remember that man that came to dinner on business last night? The French one with the daughter that stayed behind because of a video game or something?"

"Yes?" I tilted my head, wondering why he was bringing this up, of all things.

His eyebrows knitted together, and I could tell that he was just as confused. "Apparently, the daughter made a last-minute decision to visit Japan on her own without booking a hotel room. She'll be living in my house for the next few days until she finds appropriate accommodation."

At that moment, the bell rang, signalling the end of Club activities for the day. I heaved a sigh of relief and started gathering all of my papers and workbooks, stuffing them unceremoniously into my homemade satchel. Across the table, Kyoya had also begun packing up, though he was far gentler with his laptop.