Summary: KYOUYA/OC. Fairytales do happen in real life. And it even includes a Kyouya Ootori crashing a wedding ceremony! (Please read and review.)

Disclaimer: Kyouya Ootori is mine! Bwahahahaha! (mental physicians dragging her out)

AN: Beta-ed by none other than mylife'sboat. Yeah, myself. I wonder why I'm not getting any reviews. Don't you pity me? Oh, please thy pity me. Give me reviews.

START:

This clearly was not the wedding that she wished for herself, in spite of how perfect it looked like, in spite of how elegant it was. It wasn't like the weddings she'd attended before nor similar to the mock weddings they've played when they were children where she would be the lucky wife and Kyouya would be the devastated husband-to-be. It wasn't like the ones she'd seen on television, nor those happily-ever-after that happened in fairytales. No. It was simply a bride, a groom, and a ring. With the guests for extras and the altar for props. Period. And the award-winning acting, of course.

Yuki closed her eyes as she took a step back from the grand ornate doors of the cathedral. 'Walk down the aisle, listen to the priest, kiss the groom,' she repeated the routine to herself for the third time as she waited for the gates to open. She half-wished this was a nightmare that would eventually end. 'And when I wake up in my room, I'll find Kyouya by my side, poking my eye so I would kick him in the ass.'

But she was wrong. She knew deep down that it was reality and it was a path she had to take with definitely no way back, a simple exchanging of vows and rings with all the shit—as Kyouya had referred it. Kyouya. Where the hell is he? He was the one who organized this wedding and he was the one who was supposed to bring her to the altar to that idiot who forced her to marry him—the arranged marriage bullshit, but he was nowhere to be found. Yuki swore she'll cut his head off when he showed himself. Now, she had to march down alone. Her best friend, not even there to give some support.

Finally, the large piece of furniture slid wide open before she could even make up her mind which tool she'd use to behead the little bastard. She gulped. 'There's no way back...'

Mozart's ceremonial wedding sonata started. It was time to get going. Screw or be screwed, it doesn't matter anymore. She has no way out of this arrangement anyway so it was better to simply give up and quit resisting. If she ran away, it wouldn't do her any favors in the end anyway. She'll end up losing everything for nothing. She started the march, sticking up to her role.

'Everything's fine,' she assured herself as she closed her eyes, focusing on the march that seemed to be an eternity to last. 'Everything's gonna be all right...'

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(At the hospital, weeks after the surprise engagement party)

She sat on the hospital bed with the TV remote on hand, flipping channels unnecessarily, an IV connected meticulously on the back of her right hand. She had nothing else to do and yet she needed to stay in the reeking suite only to be monitored by a group of strangers in holy white suits.

Ignoring the knock on her door, she continued to change the channels every second only to find that there was nothing very interesting to watch except for the home TV shopping network selling a newly devised vacuum cleaner.

"Hey," the intruder entered and greeted her as he strode on her bed, swinging himself on the cushion and carelessly slipping his shoes off, which mercilessly landed on the floor with a loud thud.

"What do you want, Ootori-san?" she snapped.

"That's not very nice," he lounged on the large pillow as he crossed his legs. He watched her intently. Clearly, she was pissed off. And if there was one thing that would lead her to that mood, it was keeping her imprisoned in the glorious suite while treating her like a small child.

"Our medical staff isn't being very rude to you, I presume?"

"Oh, they're very nice," she mocked as she finally gave up by switching the television off and tossing the remote on the foot of the bed.

"It's your fault," he reminded her. "If you had taken better care of yourself, you wouldn't end up stuck here you know."

"It's the stupid—"

"They're all unfair to treat you like that; forcing you to a marriage you didn't even know existed until after the announcement a few weeks ago. They're all evil to snatch that freedom away from you, especially now that you've arranged all the papers for the ballet school in New York..."

"Stop." She didn't want to hear anymore. She didn't want to know how much they were trying to take away from her.

She snapped a look at him, her face full of accusation and blaming. "You're arranging this wedding. Your father told me you volunteered. How can you do this to me? I'm your best friend!"

"Don't you want me to?"

"No. I don't want you to."

"Your attending nurse said you aren't eating your meals. Do you think you'll get better if keep you stomach empty?"

"Don't change the subject, Kyouya."

Kyouya grabbed her free wrist and shoved it in front of her face. She was thinning, day by day and her ribs could almost be located. Her cheekbones were starting to be visible. "Look how much weight you've lost. Don't punish yourself just because of all this bullshit. Do you know how many people you've made worry?"

She looked at him in the eye, weary and tired. She was tired of it all; tired of her parents telling her what to do, she was tired of all the pressures they were giving her. Kyouya knew all of that. That's why he was here. Even though she appeared to be so strong, even though those honey eyes were full of bravery that told people she wouldn't give any damn to anyone, she was still fragile, like a child—her shell suddenly breaking. Her head dropped suddenly on his chest as she sobbed quietly, drenching the front of his shirt. Not once had she ever felt that she was this weak... that she would expose herself to Kyouya like this... She was on her breaking point.

"It's all right," he comforted, his hand stroking her chestnut hair as she sniffled and the other one wrapped around her shoulders for warmth.

"I wish we could be married again," opened up unexpectedly as she pulled away from him and wiped her eyes with Kyouya's sleeves. He gave a low chuckle as he pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the snot off her nose.

"We were kids then."

"But still..."

"True. I'd rather have you married to me that to some idiot guy like Francis."

Yuki laughed, as she remembered Kyouya's expressions when she forced him to wear a suit. "I always thought you were the very much distressed groom of mine."

He masked a scoff as he recalled how she would wrinkle her nose whenever she would sloppily try to fix his bowtie. He remembered how her eyebrows would crease when she would focus on the loop. He remembered how close their faces were whenever she would smooth out any rumple on his suit before they got into the pretend ceremony. Her eyes would close whenever she would hear Takeshi Kuze's boring voice as he delivered his nonsensical speech. And when she opens her eyes, she would plant a soft kiss on his cheek and they would run together, leaving the cursing Kuze behind. How he loved that memory: the cute little girl, clinging on his arms as they hid inside the closet as she evaded the doctors that threatened to bear that syringe through her skin.

Finally getting grasp of reality, he looked at his watch and jumping out of the bed, he brushed his lips against her forehead. "I should go. Father is expecting me on his office."

She curtly nodded as Kyouya headed for the door. "Oh, by the way... I'll have someone send food here. You have to eat. I'll check up on you later."

"Thanks." He smiled in return. "I love you."

Kyouya froze. What? Did she just say what he thought she did? He cleared his throat and emptied his thoughts. Don't even think that way, Kyouya.

"You should start to stop saying that," he warned her. "People might get the wrong impression and you're already engaged."

"But I always say that," She pouted. With a last unknowing smile on his lips, he was gone.

I know. Kyouya thought as he pinned himself on the door outside her suite. And I'm starting to think it was true...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Francis took her hand when she had finally reached him; the song had already ended to only start up a new one. She gave up a fake smile; one that she'd practiced a couple of weeks ago, as they walked up in front of the priest.

She closed her eyes, trying to imagine that it was one of those games she played together with Kuze and Kyouya—that the boy beside her was the same little black-haired boy whose smile had always comforted her, whose voice had always made her feel that she wasn't alone...

"Matsumoto Yuki-san?" The priest was already talking when she looked up. Francis squeezed her hand.

"Huh?"

"Do you accept Francis Arkwright to be your beloved husband, for better or for worse?"

She gulped. Does she really? Did she really want this man to be the one she'd live with forever?

"I—"

Bang. Everyone jumped at the sound, distracting their thoughts from the couple in front. They turned at the source of the noise.

The great doors of the cathedral had slammed wide open to reveal a black-haired man with metal-rimmed spectacles, walking down the aisle with straight posture.

"Kyouya?" Yuki thought out loud as she watched him strut all his glory, catching the guest's attention all the while.

"Forgive me for being irresponsibly late. I had to take care of something important."

Tap. Tap. Tap. His footsteps were echoing inside the whole church as silence grew by the minute.

"What the hell are you doing, Ootori?" Francis finally got grasp of the situation and snapped. He was furious—way too furious at this arrogant bastard who was ruining the sacredness of the ceremony by bursting inside the church unannounced. Hell, he would have wrapped his hands around the jerk's throat just for the sake of it.

"I came here to retrieve something very important," he claimed as he stopped in front of the dumbfounded girl in the marvelous Hitachiin dress.

And before the girl could react, he was already taking off her veil, disposing it on the floor with the tiara falling along in a loud clank. Her hair fell elegantly past her shoulders in a beautiful mess.

"You're going with me, young lady," he announced as he grabbed her wrists and pulled her away, her bouquet of lilies dropping clumsily on the carpet. Yuki was just in time to catch her breath and level with his pace. The whole room was silent and breathless, as they watched the bride being kidnapped and taken away. They were as if afraid of missing any part. How often would you encounter Kyouya Ootori crashing a wedding anyway?

"Hey! Stop right there Ootori," Francis called after them and preceded to follow in a jog, catching Yuki's other arm when he caught up. He was downright angry at this point. This cannot be possibly happening. "You can't do this. I'm warning you."

Kyouya stopped. Who was he to dare warn him? Who does he think he is to threaten him like that?

"Arkwright? You are in no position to brag about your authority, Francis." The hell with your name, Kyouya mused. The Ootori Zaibatsu was handling one-third of the shares of this punk's company.

"You're not taking her away."

"I believe that is what I'm doing right now. And if you don't mind or if you don't want your company to crumble down into ashes, back off."

Francis staggered as Kyouya pushed his hands off Yuki's arm and proceeded out of the church.

'What the hell?'

Yuki tried her best not to step on her dress and not to trip on those heels the Hikaru had forced her to wear. She was already out of breath as Kyouya continued to drag her away. What the hell is he doing?

When they reached his car, he opened the door on the backseat and ordered her to get inside. Yuki obliged as she waited Kyouya to jump in the front seat and start the car.

"Are you crazy?" She was on the brim of losing her mentality. Did what she thought just happened really did take place? Did Kyouya just marched up to the altar and brought her away? Did he really just threatened Francis to back his ass off? Okay, scratch the curse word. He didn't say that.

"I'm pretty sure that I've still got my sanity right now." He didn't take his eyes off the road.

"For crashing my wedding? Who on earth with the right state of mind would do that? And in front of the media, group of companies... and my parents!" Kyouya Ootori was really mentally insane.

"Oh, they'll understand."

"They'll understand! Seem more like I conspire with you to do this! Holy name God, why am I stuck with this humongous idiot?"

Kyouya laughed amusedly. "I've got you a pair of jeans and clean shirt right there, in case you want to get out of that outfit."

"Right, that's what I want to do right now." She slipped off the darn heels and rubbed her sore feet. "I bet you've already figured out that I want to chop your head off right at this very moment?"

"Sorry, I haven't gotten into that yet." She growled. This conversation isn't leading anywhere.

"Where are you taking me anyway?" she asked as he turned to the right.

"So they're not following us? I might say I'm quite disappointed."

Yuki snorted. "You didn't answer my question."

"To the airport. We're flying to New York."

"What?" she choked as she registered his words. He really is out of his mind. But as Yuki watched the large signboard saying Narita Airport, she was pretty damn sure he wasn't joking.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I've never thought I'd run away with you," she said as she scrutinized the plane ticket on her hands. She was finally going to New York—going to the ballet school she had longed dreamed of. She was going to make her dreams come true. And the best part was: Kyouya was there with her. They were standing in front of the gates without anything on hand, except for their passports. No luggage, nothing at all.

"Where's my reward?" he asked all of a sudden when the intercom called for the passengers of the New York flight.

"Hm?"

"The prince saves the princess from the evil clutches of the ugly dragon. Therefore, the prince deserves a reward."

"What reward?"

"We're in a fairytale, Yuki." He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.

"You're the mere Low-Blood Pressure Demon Lord."

"No," he leaned closer. "I'm your prince."

Yuki closed her eyes as she felt Kyouya's lips press against hers. They were surprisingly warm. And soft. They've kissed before, the one she stole from him when they were six, leaving Kyouya stunned that his first kiss was merely stolen by a crazy wedding-obsessed young girl. But she had never felt like this before. It was different, that which she wanted to savor the most.

He tasted sweet, with slight bitterness of caffeine and wine—such a strange combination, indeed. When she whimpered, trying to urge him to stop because in case he didn't notice, they were in the middle of the airport, he merely deepened the kiss, causing her legs to melt further.

When he finally pulled away, she was out of breath, as she shot him an accusing look. He simply smirked and planted a quick peck on the top of her head before walking steadily to the escalators. "Thanks for the reward," he commented loudly as he waved a large arm.

Yuki stared at his back, looking scandalized. What the hell was that for?

"Hey, stop right there!"

When she caught up, he gave him a hard slap on the back, causing him to lurch forward.

This wasn't the kind of wedding I had hoped for. A lot of unexpected turn-of-events had happened and I award Kyouya the credits for ruining my wedding. Indeed, happily-ever-after fairytales even happen in real life. Where the prince—Low Blood Pressure Demon Lord in my case—would come to my rescue and save me from a nightmarish marriage ceremony. I was one damn lucky princess.

END.

Dear Lord, please enlighten my readers to give me reviews. Please let them pity me. This is mylife'sboat, Amen.