IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ:

I have given Mr. Hitachiin a name because he does not have one in canon.

This chapter is also significantly shorter because I could not find a reasonable place to split it before it started pushing close to 13k words, so I've given you roughly 5k words and the rest will be updated in part 3 after editing.

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Between Freedom and Loyalty

Chapter 14: Like a Fish in Water, Part 2

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The grand central salon, located at the heart of the school, looked even more impressive than usual and was the highlight of the school festival. It even outshined the other two grand ballrooms, which were used as lounges for visiting family members and guests. But the salon stood regally and bathed in the soft light of many crystal chandeliers, lamps, and gold candelabra. The tall windows stood only a few inches above the floor and were covered with silk curtains, shimmering like the waves of a gold and pink ocean with every move.

There were musicians seated at the far corner of the room, filling the space with soothing tunes, and a dance floor was in the center wrapped around a tall water fountain. The tables were covered with pink cloth and decorated with orient flowers that took up most of the dining space. It was not in the least bit surprising that nearly the entire school was in attendance, squeezing between seats or taking up the dance floor. It would have been a merry event, full of festive fun if it weren't just a grand display of useless power and pandering.

Also, if it weren't so full of faceless people – enough to make Akiko feel like she was collapsing in on herself. Their voices babbled around her happily like a turbulent mountain river, and because she was raised in a bakery instead of a ballroom, she was like a swimmer in fierce waters without a life jacket or a raft or like a baby you throw into a pool and simply say, 'swim' and expect results.

She would occasionally be bombarded with questions that maybe weren't appropriate for a young teenager, who was caught in some awkward between of experiencing too much life yet not enough, to answer. Once upon a time, her responses would have come naturally, would have been laced with naivety and child-like surety but things were different now. She had given her hopeful, conversationalist years to a step-mother who abhorred things that were not a matter of consequence and the world got what was left. This shell of a young woman, who could expertly join in on an empty, inconsequential conversation just meant to take up oxygen, whether it be about the weather, boys, or the receiver's ego, but couldn't attempt to love this society more than her past allowed her to.

Conversations in Ouran were just one small aspect of the game that was required of them, and the children were mere pawns. It was like being stationed as a security guard in a mansion, expected to protect everything and perform a set of duties while also being told that nothing belonged to you or that you wouldn't get compensation, but it was required of you anyway. It was an endless, tiring job, and was partly the reason Akiko wished to be anywhere but here…

Her arm wound itself around her escort's like a rope around a piling, easing just a fraction when another politician retreated from an intellectual conversation with a certain ebony haired host. "I certainly hope that your plan at letting Suoh-san take the glory for the grand central salon race went exactly…well…as planned. Because I could really use a humiliated talking-mustache or two," she whispered aside, covering her nude painted lips with her free hand.

His voice was slick, like wet silk. "Does the crowd discomfort you, Akiko-chan?"

Her grip tightened again when a large party clambered passed them. "Oh, not at all," her voice shook. "You know, except for the fact that they're watching us like a bunch of vultures waiting for their next meal."

"I understand your unease," he agreed. "Every gesture we make and every word we speak is being used to measure our rank and our worth as potential heirs to our parents' companies, especially families as prestigious as ours."

"Well, aren't they such a delightful bunch? I'm positively shocked that you haven't invited these stuffy lycra-covered-hussies and talking-mustaches to host club events more often." She gasped when she was pulled swiftly to the side, narrowly avoiding a twirling, cute third-year host, who was spinning his guest like a tornado. "But…it might be good for the others in the host club to hear this warning," she added carefully. "Some more than others, especially the twins and Haninozuka-senpai. Maybe we should give them an extra warning – or twenty, you know, just to be safe."

Kyoya's jaw set tightly, his hand now resting atop hers and tucked securely into his elbow. "I've already expressed my concerns; whether they choose to heed them or not is entirely up to them." A sardonic quirk tugged at his lips. "And besides, a little accident by the end of the evening always makes things more interesting whenever those imbeciles are involved."

She smacked his forearm. "You're a terrible person, you know?"

"Happy to hear that I've hit my goal for the day. Small steps to success, after all."

Akiko snorted a laugh, her head bobbing forward, but she said no more. They watched the sea of people in companionable silence, lost in the rhythmic percussion of waves of movement on the porcelain tile. The silence that had engulfed them had caressed her skin like a cool breeze, smoothing her anxious soul into a calm, taking away her jagged edges.

It had been one hell of a rough day, for both of them, and the silence was much appreciated. It gave them time to recharge before the wolves in tuxedos resumed their attacks, picking at them like freshly rot, adolescent corpses hiding their adulthood under their loose coats of fleece in the guise of fashionable clothing. But together, wrapped in the comfort of one another, they stood a chance at getting out relatively unscathed. They stood a chance at keeping what little of their childhood they could intact.

As they gazed upon the masses, you could see the split, territorial factions of wolves in tuxedos and fine gowns circling the young, corralling them with adult talks of politics and social economics. And if they did not say the desired response to their adult-like riddles, the wolves would finally show their teeth.

It was as if grown-ups had forgotten that they were once children too. As if they had forgotten the overbearing weight of these elite expectations piled onto their shoulders by their own parents simply because they had built the muscle over time to get used to the load…

"Something is on your mind," Kyoya's voice tore her from her disturbed thoughts.

When she glanced at him through her peripheral, his eyes remained steady on the crowds, face aglow with the crystal rays of the chandeliers. His lips bore the semblance of a frown, just enough to show that he was not enjoying his thoughts either, whatever they may have been.

"Of course. It is a mind; I'm not sure it is meant to have any other purpose than to have something on it."

His lips twitched upward. "I meant that something is troubling yours." He finally looked at her. "Besides, you're making that face again, and it's horribly unpleasant."

"Wha—What? What face? This is my normal face and very attractive, thank you very much."

Kyoya was not convinced. "I appreciate honesty and directness. It would be wise to not to prevaricate. I'd just end up finding out anyway."

"I do not doubt that you would," she murmured and heaved a sigh, pointing somewhere off to the side. "Look over towards the dining area of the salon. It would appear that our parents have found each other. I can only guess what ridiculous notions my step-mother is currently trying to plant in your father's head and dread finding out."

Kyoya observed the circle of wolves in fashionable clothing until he was sure that they were indeed their parents. He didn't even need a script to their conversation or context to know what matter they were speaking of. It was obvious from their facial expressions that it was a directionless conversation with the occasional interruption of witty and not-so-witty jibes at somebody else's expense. They stood with swagger, chins held high, plastic masks firmly in place, and with a sense of surety in themselves that made them the most dangerous in the room. So dangerous that Kyoya found that he could only bite his tongue and chose to not comment on the obvious.

Akiko quickly took notice of his silence. She narrowed her elfin eyes suspiciously. "You know something, don't you?"

He worked his jaw before shooting her an unconvincing host smile. "Nothing you need to concern yourself over."

"I sense a 'yet' but if it pleases you, keep your secrets." She opened her mouth for a moment, and then snapped it shut, and Kyoya thought the conversation over until she groaned, "However, if it's our impending marriage as a result of your father and my stepmother deciding to merge their respective companies with seemingly archaic practices, I believe I'm entitled to know when I'm getting transported back in time to before women had rights over themselves."

Ah, there it was.

That quick mind of hers that he both found amusing and, at times, completely insufferable. He chose to ignore her heated glare and gave his attention to the waiter handing out glasses of mysterious concoctions.

"Nothing as extreme as that, I assure you." He waved a careless hand, reaching out to take the crystal glass as the waiter passed but Akiko beat him to it.

"Ah, ah, ah" she waggled her finger, holding the glass above her head. "Juice mocktails are for talkers."

"Akiko-chan…" he warned with a sigh.

"If it wasn't for my father's refusal, it would be a possibility, wouldn't it?" Her tone was desperate. "Our families selling us off to an arranged marriage like cows to a slaughterhouse all for the sake of the 'future of their companies?" When she received no assurance that it certainly wasn't a possibility, her arm with the glass lowered to her chest, and she looked incredulously at Kyoya. "And if such a decision were to be reached… you'd…just…go along with it?"

He kept his expression decidedly neutral, and he didn't speak for a moment because no, he wouldn't just go along with it. He had rejected her confession during their third year of Ouran Middle for the sole purpose of trying to shield them both from such a fate… but he was much more foolish then. He was too naïve to even think that she had a choice to be anything other than a tool for the Miyamura and Ootori family, too naïve to think that anyone in Ouran had a choice to be anything other than what their parents deemed them worthy enough to be.

As much as he wanted to believe Tamaki's ridiculous notions of pursuing his own passions for the sake of his freedom and not his family, he also knew that he had a duty, a loyalty. And it was something he felt that he had to remind Akiko at times, no matter how much he knew it would break her and no matter how much he wanted to be free of his constraining frame himself…

"If it was what I needed to do to get closer to my goal, then yes," he said simply, with a tone as cold and brittle as steel. "Such is my responsibility as the third son."

He reached for her bicep to pull her away from another group passing, but Akiko swung her arm away from him. She had opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind until she saw the minute slouch in his pin-straight form; the uncertainty rolling off him in such subtle waves it was almost undetectable. She had to hand it to him; he was flawlessly composed for someone who loathed his own words, his own situation, his very family.

She should have been offended, but she knew that the words he spoke had no bite. He was merely repeating what was expected of him – what had been ingrained into all of them since birth. The anger in Akiko calmed, and she followed his breathing, slowly inhaling and exhaling. "You don't need to make those two-faced claims to me, you know? I've known you far too long to heavily consider them to be truthful." She nudged his side. "Perhaps it would be wise to take your own advice and not prevaricate."

The tension in his stature eased, his expression shifted from one of indifference to one of tepid softness. "I suppose you're right. I meant no ill-will, only to remind you of the situation at hand."

"I know," she sighed, resigned. "Such is my responsibility as the eldest daughter, after all…"

They faced the crowds once more. "Not to be egoistic, but there was a time not long ago where the thought of an arranged marriage between us would have not been such a terrible idea as it is to you now."

"Yes but that was before…" she drifted, her eyes quickly finding the one she had been searching for since the start of the ball, with his auburn hair and orange and gold trimmed outfit making him seem like fire moving around the dance floor. Unconsciously, she fingered the spot, now wrapped in a elastic bandage and secured with a pin, where his heat still touched from earlier that afternoon. A gesture that did not go unnoticed by the young man at her side.

"—Kaoru?" Kyoya finished, leaning toward her conspiratorially.

She bit her lip and took an interest in the glass in her hands. Kyoya hummed and leaned back against the column with leisure. "No need to look so guilty. I'm just shocked that you can so easily admit it." He tapped his chin and gave her a sly aside. "Because I believe you once said something along the lines of 'I'm not so quick to jump from one fruitless love into another' back in Karuizawa a few months ago, hmmm?"

"Careful there, my friend. If you keep at it with that superior expression, people will begin to think that you have feelings." She rolled her eyes, earning her a chuckle.

He then met her own, intense and very wonderfully onyx. "Are you going to do anything about it? Correct me if I'm wrong, which I rarely am, but you were rather forthcoming with your feelings when you began to think of me more than a mere companion back in middle school." He waited for her assertive nod. "Why haven't you done the same with Kaoru?"

There was a pregnant pause. She glided her fingers around the rim of the glass, causing a melodic ring to fill the silence. She sighed and, in a rather unladylike fashion, downed the juice mocktail wishing that it was anything other than juice.

She hadn't intended to let Kaoru in – or any of the host club. She hadn't meant to like him, to wish to become anything more than friends. And he made it so unbearably unclear if he shared that desire. He had let her in just as much as she had let him. He touched her so easily, naturally – a hand on the small of her back when he was leading her to class, a light pat on the hand whenever she became lost in thought, a soft touch on the crown of her head when they would jest.

But he touched Haruhi easily too.

She didn't even know how it came about or how any of it began in the first place. And she honestly didn't have a clue about what to do next. It wasn't the same as it had been with Kyoya back in their third year of Ouran Middle. This kind of 'like' was not the same as back then. The desire was changed. It was more than soft smiles, holding hands, and wanting to huddle in her circle of friends and brag about them.

No—this, whatever it was, was special all on its own.

But she carefully considered it nonetheless. And after a time, could only come up with one response, "Because he likes Fujioka-chan, and I don't want to be a confusion in his life right now."

"Will you ever tell him?"

"Possibly."

Back on the dance floor, Kaoru was paying little attention to the swooning affections of his client, eyes roaming the audience in search of a woman in gold, and then eventually settling on her, and holding her gaze as if it was the only important thing in the room. With the tilt of his head, he shot her a winsome smile that made her want to melt. She suddenly stood straighter, earning her an amused look from Kyoya.

"Your eyes are lingering, Akiko-chan," he pointed out calmly.

Akiko sniggered, exchanging her empty glass with a full one and handing it to Kyoya. "I'm afraid they will continue to do so for the remainder of the evening. He can be remarkably charming, for a mischief-maker. The attraction was…unexpected."

"I suppose the unexpected can sometimes be pleasant," he mused and sipped the juice sparingly.

Her humor faltered when the feathering laugh of her step-mother reached her ears. There was an odd expression on her face, worry knotting her brow and he then caught her staring at their parents once again.

"Don't think about what they may or may not be plotting," he added after a time, something hidden in his tone that got her attention. "As I mentioned before, it's nothing you need to concern yourself over. And even if it were—" He had that audacity to look smug "—well, you still wouldn't need to worry much."

She crowed. "You are 'The Shadow King,' through and through. You never let anything get passed you, do you?"

He arched a brow. "I'm appalled that you'd ever consider it a possibility that I would."

She shook her head and grew serious again. "If I may discuss another matter of concern?" He rolled his wrist for her to continue. "Why did you choose to have me by your side for the evening? What's so different about this school festival ball compared to the years before?"

Kyoya thought carefully on how to answer.

What was different about this school festival compared to the others was the audience. Normally, Ootori Yoshio thought that school festivals were much too tedious to attend, and so Akiko and Kyoya would continue on avoiding each other since there was no need for interaction in his father's absence (and Kyoya hated interacting with her step-mother). But this time around, they had won the grand central salon race.

He had worked hard to create a favorable situation for Tamaki, knowing that the Suoh family, including Tamaki's horrid grandmother, would be in attendance. So, he bid his time with the clues that were given during the race to reach each checkpoint and allowed the football club to catch up, ultimately ending with a grand spectacle of Tamaki outrunning Kuze by a hair's breadth to grab the crown and marking the host club as the victors.

To other students in Ouran, it looked like Tamaki was merely a passionate club president, determined to win for the sake of his club's social standing. But to their elitist parents, it marked a clear message: that Suoh Tamaki, the illegitimate child of the chairman, was worthy enough to be backed by the most powerful families in Japan – namely the Ootori, the Hitachiin, the Haninozuka, and the Morinozuka households.

The display provided the Ootori family with opportunity and marked up new interests with the Suohs. It meant that Kyoya, through his careful planning, gained power for his household – something even his brothers hadn't yet accomplished.

As for why he chose Akiko to remain by his side? Well, having Akiko by his side suggested to the elitist world that the Miyamuras was also involved in this power share. Thus, killing two birds—or families—with one stone. By doing so, he had shown that the Miyamura family, one of the most respected families in Japan, and the Suoh family, one of the richest families in Japan, were strong allies with his.

But he knew Akiko wouldn't fancy the thought of being used for his own selfish gain, so he decided not to mention it…

Instead, he shrugged, squinting at his now-empty glass. "I needed a woman of intellect to stand by my side, preferably one that wasn't going to be tied to my hip and fawn over me. And I needed someone who wasn't afraid to speak their mind about certain families here, especially someone who wasn't afraid to argue with my opinions. I felt that described you fairly well."

"Well, I don't know about intellect, but I can definitely make sure to argue with you for the remainder of the evening," she admitted with a toothy grin.

He returned it, but his was much more dangerous. "Good."

Their arms found each other's once again entwined, and he steeled himself as he spotted another wolfish, wayward businessman making his way toward them. And with each of their feet taking a step forward, they moved into the corral and decided that they would show these wolves what they were made of.

.

.

Hitachiin Hiroshi, husband to Hitachiin Yuzuha and patriarch of the Hitachiin ménage, was a very knowledgeable man. He knew much of business intelligence and information systems, from analytics and strategic planning to software development and the many frameworks and stacks involved. He knew how to calm his fiery, free-spirited wife and had enough silver-tongue to talk her into (more so, out of) just about anything. He knew how to blend in using his weak presence and was more than perceptive of his surroundings. But his utmost skill, the one he valued above all others, was his keen ability to tell the twins apart and read their characters as easily as he would a morning newspaper.

He had lost count of the amount of time that had passed with the younger twin sitting stiffly in an uncomfortable chair with a posture that matched the stone statues lined against the wall. He remained stoic, showing almost no sign of life except for the infuriating, nervous bounce of his knees and twiddling of his thumbs. All his attention was given to the dance floor, eyes following partners with an almost bored expression.

Then, his knees stilled their annoying shake, and Kaoru sat up into his chair, ram-rod straight, stretching and craning his neck to see through the crowd. His father needlessly followed his stare, knowing exactly who he had spotted. And he smiled to himself victoriously when his sight caught the flowy, shimmering layers of golden gossamer skirt belonging to Miyamura Akiko, who was currently in the middle of a fast waltz with the youngest son of the Ootori family.

Akiko, like her mother, held a subtle air of beauty that was easily dismissible, yet together in her golden, glittering gown and coupled with the striking presence of the young Ootori, they stood out like a centerpiece on a barren table – radiant, confident. He was almost tempted to say that they made a formidable and charming couple, but was positive that the twitching, agitated mess of a twin next to him would strongly disagree.

It was half-amusing to see their eyes continuously find each other, despite their attention requiring to be elsewhere, and it brought him back to a time when he was a timid young man trying to win the affections of a passionate auburn-haired firecracker. Hiroshi watched his son watch Akiko, meekly lifting his hand in a pathetic attempt to wave and his lips forcing a smile, only to fall when she was whisked off the dance floor by the Ootori. And in that small gesture, Kaoru's intentions were laid bare.

Kaoru was enamored with the eldest daughter of the Miyamura family.

Hiroshi was certain of it. Their bashful glances, the eager way they sought each other out, and not to mention the subtle traces of jealousy bubbling up just beneath the surface of his son's normally calm demeanor – like an underwater volcano. His son's crush on Akiko had been plain to him then—almost like it was second nature— even if Kaoru was completely unaware of it himself.

After all, the last thing a fish would ever notice would be the water, he supposed.

Perhaps a little nudge in the right direction would not hurt. He could almost hear Miyamura Umeko, the girl's deceased mother, and his once closest companion, applauding him for his rare moment of deviousness. She would claim that his wife was beginning to rub off on him, though she would be right.

He folded his arms behind his back and cleared his throat, catching his son's attention. He nodded his head pointedly to where Akiko was now standing, arm-in-arm, with Kyoya, her sister and companions, and a few conniving looking women. Kaoru looked between his father and the group, his mouth hung open like some sort of dead fish.

"You should ask Miyamura-san to dance," he urged with a snippy look. "She is the 'friend' you're taken with and always mentioning after all, isn't she?".

Kaoru blinked rapidly at his father for a while, until a mortified expression dawned his features and his ears turned red with belated understanding. "W-What?! No! I don't— I mean, why would I— ugh!" he flailed about, trying to catch his tongue "I don't like Akiko-senpai in that way! She's just a friend."

His father feigned surprise. "Truly?" He hummed, looking back to Akiko. "And why not? Miyamura-san seems like she would be an amiable and agreeable partner."

Kaoru jolted out of his seat, nearly tripping, and waved his hands in front of him comically. "Tone it down, dad! She's right over there!" he whispered fiercely, burning hot like the sun.

A little rise appeared in the corner of Hiroshi's mouth. "Precisely my point. She's right over there, so whatever are you standing over here like a dolt for? Go on."

Kaoru hid his face beneath his hands, groaning. "If anyone starts to suspect something between me and Akiko-senpai then it's going to cause rumors to start up with clients and—"

"If someone suspects you and Miyamura-san?" he emphasized. "Kaoru, if you haven't noticed by the way you've been glaring holes in Ootori-san's back all afternoon, many people already suspect something. Even me and I've been standing in this salon all but thirty minutes."

"I wasn't glaring," he muttered, pouting. "I was making sure her gown was in order. She was a mess earlier this afternoon and I was afraid that she'd ruin the dress and…" he sighed like a heavy weight had been put on his shoulders "…Can we just leave it alone?"

His father frowned at the defeat looming over his youngest son. Of course, he would respect his son's boundaries and not push the matter any further. Perhaps his teasing had gone a little too far. He put a patient and reassuring hand on Kaoru's back and instead asked, "Why does it bother you so much?"

There were a lot of reasons as to why it bothered him. In fact, too many reasons that giving the suggestion of even pursuing whatever confusing, wonder mess lay between him and Akiko was an absolutely, irrefutably, and utterly horrible idea. He had never felt anything like this before, not even with Haruhi, and he wasn't sure he was entirely comfortable with that. It terrified him, this feeling of the unknown. Most people would compare it to 'flying,' but to Kaoru, it felt like he was sinking into the middle of the ocean, into a dark expanse of nothingness and mystery. And Kaoru was so damn used to having a life jacket on that it was hard to just go with the flow of things and let himself fall. He feared the drowning, and he feared what he would find on the ocean floor.

Akiko already knew so much more about his demons than anyone else in Ouran, even more than Hikaru, but that didn't change the fact that there was still darkness inside him that she hadn't seen. Not even she would stick around after being given a glimpse. He was sure of it.

But as Kaoru tore his eyes away from his father and back to Akiko, watching the way she glowed in the golden light with a smile so captivating that it was like the stars themselves decided to rest behind her lips, he couldn't help but let his mind wander into a realm of possibility.

The thought was too easy.

And that made him uneasy because nobody in their world ever made things that easy without some sort of ulterior motive. Besides, he had found a wonderful friendship with Akiko; there was no sense in ruining it with his outlandish notions. They had an operation to complete, and after it was over, she wouldn't need to be on his mind anymore because she'd be on someone else's…

Kaoru pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's complicated…"

Ah, the wonders of youth, his father thought as he watched his son's internal struggle. He certainly did not miss those years – the ones filled with uncertainty and fear, but as any doting parent, he had to let Kaoru roam that territory alone. Softening, he patted Kaoru's back and gestured with his other hand. "Then, how about we just make sure to reach her before your mother does? She hasn't spotted her yet, but I'm positive that once she does, Miyamura-san will need someone to placate your mother's fussing."

The tension washed off his face, his smile growing like a budding spring flower. Relief could be heard in his voice and seen in the way he relaxed, "Yeah." He nodded to himself resolutely. "I can do that much, at least."

Somehow Kaoru was glad that he father couldn't read his thoughts because he really couldn't do this. He's only known her for more than a couple of months, and it's entirely possible that his feelings for her had the potential to go far beyond "like," and he may be a charming member of the host club, but she's Akiko—a woman who makes him melt like an ice sculpture whenever he hears the sound of her laugh—and he still unequivocally, positively, in no way humanly possible has any time for this nonsense.

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is so late. I honestly got stuck on it for a long while with one specific scene and just couldn't finish it. Thank you to everyone who continued to review in my absence (especially GUESTS). It really did motivate me day by day to get this one out finally.

I know Kaoru's father comes off as a little pushy, but I feel that is how parents are. Most of the time, they catch on to something before children do and especially something that involves their own children. Perception just comes with age, I suppose. Not everyone will be rooting for Kaoru and Akiko, as we will see in later chapters.

Whelp! I hope you liked it!