Color My World (Ouran High School Host Club)

Chapter 14- Everything's Going to be Okay

Kyoya woke up to a bouncy Japanese pop song, a clue-in that Tamaki given him a call at the ungodly hour of 7 AM. Laying there, comfortably tucked beneath his covers, he wanted nothing more than to throw it against the wall to shut it up. Saturday mornings were his only breathing time, for Chrissake- couldn't this have waited? If this was about Haruhi again, he swore he was going to have an aneurysm.

Finally resigning himself to the reality of the situation, he plucked his phone off his nightstand and answered on its seventh ring. "Tamaki? Is something the matter? Really, you should know better than to disturb me at such a-"

"Mommy! Oh, thank God you're there!" Tamaki blubbered frantically. "Something has happened to Ayame!"

"Ayame?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. "What sort of thing?"

"From what Haruhi told me, she was attacked by this strange man last night. A man in the neighborhood found her there, almost unconscious, but the culprit ran away before he could apprehend him. She's in the hospital now."

But no further persuasion was required. Kyoya flung off his covers immediately, slipping into his shoes and striding to his bathroom. "I'm heading over there right away. I'll be there ASAP."

Hanging up on his friend, Kyoya heaved a sigh, only one thing on his mind.

Ayame.

He slipped into the hospital room, easing into a hard-backed chair just besides the hospital bed. "So, how is she?" he asked quietly, so as not to wake her up.

Ayame was a mess of bandages and casts, puffy with bruises and scrapes. He could barely stand to look at her like that, so small, so vulnerable, bathed in the light shining through the window. So unlike the vibrant girl he had seen just yesterday, kicking and screaming and living.

The nurse gave him a patronizing look, before heaving a sigh. "I wish I didn't have to say this, but not very good. Broken arm, dislocated shoulder, plenty of bruises, a nasty knife wound on her thigh...and that's disregarding the internal damage."

Just then, two police officers walked into the room, nodding curtly to the nurse. "We've just commenced investigation of the victim's house.

"And?" Kyoya snapped, drawing their attention before she could respond.

"And who would you be?" the taller of the men asked gruffly, a frown behind his bushy mustache. "Her boyfriend?"

He smiled calmly, forcing down the queasiness he felt at the thought. "No, just a friend of hers from Ouran Academy. My name is Kyoya Otori, the third son of the head of the Otori Corporation, Yoshio Otori. I believe I'm not mistaken when I say that this is one of our many hospital locations all over Japan." At the sight of the dubious look on the man's face, he sighed, pulling out his student identification. "Is this proof enough for you? I don't any sane person who would throw that name around lightly."

The man nodded hurriedly, flustered. "Um, yes, of course, Otori-san! I'm Fukunaga and this is my partner, Suzuki."

"So...what were the results of the investigation?" Kyoya asked once more, giving them a tight-lipped smile. "Forgive me for not catching them earlier."

"Several other officers are searching the area where the offender vanished last night at this very moment. Although the girl's father was...uncooperative, to say the least, we managed to be able to search her room," Suzuki said with a grimace.

"And?" Kyoya pressed, with a hint of impatience.

"In her desk drawer, we found a collection of old notes with pretty much the same messages." Fukunaga took a file out of his briefcase, hanging them to Kyoya. "It goes without saying, who they're from."