Kyoya's Secret Kitten

Chapter 24

As our car came to a stop in front of the estate, I stepped out and made my way around to Yuki's door. I opened it, and she practically leapt from the car, her heel landing squarely across my three smallest toes. I was shocked when she seemed not to notice at all, continuing towards the house as if nothing had happened. I crossed my arms expectantly and cleared my throat to get her attention, but she didn't even look up from her notebook.

"Sorry, Kyoya. I don't have time. I have to focus." She spewed absent-mindedly as she continued her trek. "We can talk after dinner."

"Kitten," I called out, a dark edge to my voice. She stopped immediately and turned to face me, her eyes slightly wide. "Pay attention to what you're doing. I wouldn't want you to get into an accident." She looked at me, clearly confused. It was incredible how absolutely oblivious she was, almost as bad as Tamaki. "You stepped on my foot." I clarified. Her confusion instantly turned to embarrassment, and a faint blush spread across her cheeks.

"I didn't even realize. Sorry, Kyoya." She replied sheepishly. She was adorable when she was embarrassed. I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Perhaps you could make it up to me after dinner?" I offered with a mischievous grin. Yuki's faint pink blush was replaced by a bright red one. She simply nodded and hastily made her way inside. I took a few moments to collect myself before I followed. Inside, the estate bustled with activity.

"Master Kyoya." The butler called from the doorway to the kitchen, and I crossed the foyer to meet him. "Your father has only just arrived." He had to practically shout to be heard above the noise. "He instructed me to have you wait for him in his study." I nodded and turned to make my way to the staircase. Although my father's study was essentially off limits to us children, I had been inside a handful of times. As I made my way down the opposite wing from the sleeping quarters, I thought back to the last time my father had summoned me there. I had been in middle school, and he had made it clear that my scholastic performance in high school would have little bearing on my status within the family. After what felt like an eternity of walking, I reached the door to the study. It was a plain door, with a dark stain and an ornate antique handle. I cautiously turned knob. Stepping inside, I was met with the familiar feeling of a bland but well-used study. The few curios were neatly arranged, and each book and document was in its place. The only personal effects that my father kept here was an engraved fountain pen, given to him upon his graduation from college, and a framed family portrait that was set at a perfect angle on the corner of his desk. The décor was plain, white walls, and a tastefully patterned rug placed perfectly beneath the desk. The room felt more like a corporate office than a personal study. Taking care to disturb the room as little as possible, I sat in one of the matching chairs across the desk from my father's empty one. After only a few seconds, I heard the door open and turned to greet my father.

"Welcome home, father." I smiled, more out of habit than affection.  "I hope that your meetings were successful?" He stared at me as if he was trying to grade my greeting.

"They went about as expected." He answered vaguely as he made his way around the desk and sat. "How have you been managing the estate in my absence? Things seem a little out of sorts. I trust you haven't been spending all of your time neglecting our home?" My smile widened to hide my annoyance.

"Not at all father. I've found a temporary chef, and she's only been with us for a week. The other staff are still adjusting." I could see that the idea of a temporary chef didn't sit well with my father, but he allowed me to continue on. "On top of that, your sudden return was unexpected. As far as I was aware, you were intending to be in meetings until Monday and then fly straight to America for a few weeks." My father was silent for a few moments before he responded.