And away we go.
The cell phone rang just a split-second before the sunlight hit it from Kyouya's east-facing windows.
Kyouya fumbled with it for two rings, and then dragged it under the covers with him. It took another ring to work out how the flipping-motion should best be achieved.
His voice was choked with sleep, but surprisingly level. "It's only fair to inform the caller that their soul will burn in the fires of Hell."
"Kyouya…"
The covers folded back, and Kyouya squinted up at the blurry mass of what might have been his ceiling. "Tamaki? What's wrong?"
"Bad. Bad, bad things. Very bad." Tamaki's voice was low and wavering and unsure, and one out of three parts being normal weren't good odds.
"What?" Kyouya tried to sit up, failed magnificently, and went through a complicated system of locks to let the sunlight in. "What time is it?"
"Early," Tamaki sniffled. "It's early. I'm sorry for calling. Um."
The rest of the fog dried up double-time. Tamaki never said 'um', because Tamaki always knew exactly what he was saying. "Tamaki. Tell me what is wrong."
"It's Grandmother. Something new. Another condition."
Kyouya fought a wave of dark portent at the unexpected news. He had never predicted that the old matriarch could actually invent a new level to the gauntlet. "An addendum to the agreement? Now?"
"Yes. And… I don't think I can do it this time, Kyouya."
His mind was racing ahead, but he needed actual information. He groped around for his glasses and they brought the world into focus. "Give me facts."
"She was – the last time we met, she asked me about my grades, and I said I was second in the year. And she did that scary eyebrow-frown thing, and asked if I thought that was the very best I could do and it was good enough to be second-best."
Kyouya froze halfway through buttoning up his shirt. Stuck between his cheekbone and shoulder, the cell phone creaked.
"And the lawyers emailed me early, early this morning, and I just now saw. Kyouya…" There was a long pause, and more frightened sounds from the other end of the line. "I have to be top in the class to be included in the family."
Kyouya slowly held the phone away from his ear and stared at the crest on his blue blazer.
From a long way off, he heard, "Kyouya? Kyouya?"
He brought the mouthpiece close and said, "I see." The phone snapped shut and ended the call.
And then he dressed with the same practiced movements he had always used and went to school.
----------
Classes passed normally, apart from Tamaki shooting him panicked glances and trying to pass him notes every five minutes.
It wasn't hard for Kyouya to ignore him.
But at the Club, it all multiplied tenfold.
Kyouya pushed his glasses up his nose and said, "I'll send in the next round of clients. Don't feel obligated to stand and receive them."
One of the twins slid just a bit further into the plush armchair and smirked. "Oh, never fear, Shadow-chan. We don't."
Another one, nestled in his brother's lap and attempting to tickle the other's chin with his nose, glanced over. He pointed out distractedly, "You've got a king on you."
Kyouya bent his head to examine the forlorn Tamaki wrapped around his lower legs, and then tapped his pen on a column on in his notebook. "Yes. On that note, I've been forced to shift Tamaki's assignations for today, and you two will carry the brunt of the overflow."
The obligatory groan rose up, and Kyouya moved to leave. His legs didn't budge.
He held still, and said patiently, "Tamaki."
The other boy flinched, and looked up with wide eyes.
"I'll accomplish nothing if I cannot move."
Tamaki pulled his Neglected and Abandoned faces, both rolled into one.
Kyouya gestured at Haruhi, and she came over forthwith. She said, "D'you need something?"
Kyouya waited for Tamaki to react per norm, and, when he did not, recovered by saying, "I am incapacitated. Will you please help Hikaru and Kaoru move shop, and then escort the next several clients to them?"
She blinked down at Tamaki, shrugged, and said, "Sure, okay."
And so the Host Club proceeded.
This was put to an end when Kyouya observed, "If you won't accept clients, you should be studying."
All of the other members lost the thread of their respective operations when this was enough to send Tamaki home.
Kyouya watched out the window to be sure Tamaki had gone, and then turned back to the silent room and waved them on.
At the end of the Club's session, the members crowded close with suppressed questions.
Kyouya made sure that they would hear and understand the first time around, and then announced, "Tamaki has been informed that he must maintain the highest grade in the second-year class, in much the same way Haruhi must earn her scholarship."
There was a collective gasp, or the body-language equivalent of such.
One of the twins said, "That would make the two of you-"
"-Rivals," they finished in unison. They both winced at the same moment.
"That sucks," the one that had spoken second concluded.
Kyouya, having completed his duties for the day, packed his things and went home as though most of the world hadn't just begun to crumble.
----------
After another day of refusing to discuss anything with Tamaki beyond scheduling clients and the weather, Kyouya stood at the back of a room that was steadily emptying of girls. The notebook in his hands was full of figures that probably had a wider margin of error than ever before.
Haruhi stepped up next to him, and they watched the last few stragglers trickle out. She said, "Everything's been a bit hectic since yesterday."
Kyouya made a distracted sound of agreement in the back of his throat and worked out another little discrepancy in his math.
She let the silence between them smooth out completely before venturing, "Tamaki's calmed down, a little."
Another sound. Kyouya resolutely kept busy.
"He was freaking out yesterday, but now he just seems… in shock, I suppose. Despondent."
Kyouya didn't respond to that one.
She looked directly at him, and her voice became almost sharp. "Do I really have to point out that this'll hurt his commission rate, just to make you discuss it with me?"
Kyouya snapped the notebook closed with one hand and said coolly, "The situation has changed. Any equilibrium we might have had is completely upset. What else is there to discuss?"
She watched him with a sympathetic worry, and seemed to step back from the immediate problem.
At length, when it was getting close to the time when she needed to leave in order to catch her bus, Haruhi asked, "What are you going to do?"
Black eyebrows crept together, and then drew back. "What I must."
"I can live with that," she admitted. She began to walk away, and then turned back. Very seriously, she said, "So long as there is a difference between what you must do and what you want to do."
She left, leaving Kyouya with a barely-audible 'Good luck'.
----------
Ten minutes later, Kyouya gave up on the daily calculations and called his driver.
As he was climbing into the backseat, strong arms shoved him far over and something blond and intrusive clambered in behind.
Kyouya straightened his glasses as Tamaki spoke to the driver. "Hey, Asuka. Can you drop me off, too?"
Kyouya didn't comment as they pulled out of the Ouran grounds. Tamaki didn't speak, either, but he sat tense and rigid, fists cautiously curling and uncurling on his knees.
And, finally, when they approached his house, Tamaki asked, "What are we going to do?" The tension might have been cut with a knife.
Kyouya shook his head and looked out at the houses that surrounded Tamaki's. "What we have to do."
Tamaki laid his hand on Kyouya's elbow, and squeezed it in surprise. "What? But... now I have to be the top student for Grandmother, and you have to be top for… um…"
"To suit my own ends," Kyouya finished for him, saving the mention of his father.
"Right! And that just-" Tamaki cut himself off, made a worried noise and swallowed it, and then said, "Those don't mix."
"So it would seem," Kyouya acknowledged. The car turned into Tamaki's driveway.
Tamaki whined, "So, so, what are we going to do?"
They crept to a stop near the front door of Tamaki's home. Kyouya said, in a hollow, aloof voice, "We compete."
The car idled, and Tamaki stared at him in outright horror. Kyouya wouldn't turn to look at his rival.
And then Tamaki rubbed a hand over his face and climbed out of the car. He leaned back inside and said, "We're not finished talking about this. Thanks, Asuka, you can go."
The car shook with the force of the door closing, and then Kyouya was pulling out his notebook and revising the day's figures with absolute precision.
He couldn't afford to let this affect his performance, after all. Now more than ever.
He'd never had a true rival before… and he didn't know exactly what to expect.