Ouran Host Club Hostess (DISCONTINUED)

Is This Really Okay?

Kyoko wasn't sure why she'd come to the school roof. It wasn't like it was a place she frequented. In fact, the only time she'd ever gone there was during the birthday party the twins had thrown for her.

There was a wildly overgrown vine arch in what looked like a miniature garden. The garden looked just as unkempt as the arch, with grass growing wild underneath patches of slowly melting snow. There was a bench under the arch. It might have once been white, but time and the elements had peeled at the layer of paint to reveal ugly patches of rusted metal. The vines from the arch had stretched out and were slowly beginning to grow over it.

Kyoko swept the layer of snowy slush off the seat of the bench with her hands and a tissue, and sat down. She hadn't thought about it the last time she'd been up here, but why was there a garden on the roof? Maybe Ouran had once had a Garden Club, and this was what was left of it. Had they moved locations? Disbanded willingly? Disbanded unwillingly?

It was particularly cold and windy that day, especially at such a high altitude. The gusts of wind fluttered her skirts and whipped her hair. She leaned backwards and stared up at the deep green leaves. The tears that had began to fall dried almost as soon as they appeared, leaving her eyes and cheeks feeling dry and crusty.

A part of her wanted to slap herself as hard as she could. What was she doing crying like this? And in front of the twins no less. In front of a room full of people too...

She did slap herself then, with both hands. I'm thinking just like my mom...putting value on the opinions of people I don't even know... The slaps had left her cheeks feeling pink and sensitive, but seemed to have cleared her mind a little. At least she no longer wanted to cry anymore.

"I don't think they expected you to come here." Kyoko turned to look at Tamaki. Of all the people to come looking for her and actually find her, she hadn't expected it to be him. He looked uncharacteristically serious. His smile was gentle and genuine and kind. At the sight of it, she felt like tearing up all over again.

Tamaki came to sit beside her, ignoring the burs that were probably stuck in his trousers now. "I'll admit, I don't have the full story. Why don't you tell me?"

So she did. Kyoko recounted what had happened after she'd left the Christmas get together, from her mother's ultimatum, to her efforts in keeping them apart even in school.

"And the strange thing is that...I can't fault my mom entirely," she sighed at the end. "How many times do teenagers rush into relationships thinking that 'yeah, this is the one' only to have their hearts broken?" Teenagers, adults, people rushed into relationships every day, hoping to find something satisfying. Something that would last. "I just wish she wouldn't...make it sound like everything is about her instead..."

The blonde hummed quietly. "What about your dad?"

She scoffed. "He left ages ago. I barely even knew him. It's been my mom and I for as long as I can remember."

"You don't think that has anything to do with it?"

"I don't want that to be it," she kicked at the grass, toeing at a clump of snow. "It sounds so simplistic. It makes it sound like..."

"Like she's insecure?" Kyoko hunched in slightly. Never in her life had she ever considered applying such an adjective to her mother. Her mother? Daichi Kotone? Kyoko dreamed of being like her mom, of oozing the confidence she had, of being strong and steadfast in her beliefs.

For her mom to be insecure about something was...almost inconceivable to her. "My mom has nothing to be insecure about," she argued, not taking her eyes off the grass.

"Emotions don't always stem from a visible source," Tamaki said quietly. A leaf fell from the vine and he opened his palm to catch it. It was still green, not a hint of brown. The stem had been chewed off by an ant. "Sometimes people have their own hang-ups, and usually only they know how and why they feel that way."

Kyoko got the feeling he was talking about more than just this one problem. She looked up in surprise when he stood up abruptly. "Tamaki?"

He turned to look at her, his eyes serious and his smile gone. To her surprise, he grabbed her hand. "Kyoko, you love the twins don't you?" She nodded dumbly, because she did. "Then tell your mom this. Try again, and again, and keep trying, because honestly; are you really okay with this outcome?"

The girl watched him leave, and then looked down at the hand he had grabbed. Inside was a small, slightly crushed leaf. As she stared at it, the wind whisked it from her palm, and carried it off.

oOo

Upon her daughter's return from school, Kotone had expected to be greeted with quiet sulking or painfully cold politeness. The two had barely exchanged two words ever since Christmas. Justified anger warred with regret inside her. It wasn't that she intentionally wanted to make her daughter miserable, but she wanted to save her worse misery in the future.

Kotone remembered the months after her ex-husband had left. They'd been high school sweethearts, and had married young, both barely in their twenties. She'd noticed the cracks once she'd gotten pregnant. He started acting shifty, and avoided talking about the baby. Talks of the future seemed to make him uncomfortable.

He'd stuck around for a few years after Kyoko was born, and then he'd left. Oh she'd ranted and raved for days afterwards, alternated between bouts of intense anger, and crushing depression.

Kyoko was what pulled her out of her funk. She had to be there for her daughter, and she had to protect her from a future like this one. Still, it was hard. Every time she left the house, she could almost hear people whispering about her. Their neighbourhood had been small, suburban, and news like this travelled extremely quickly.

Kotone had nothing against men, but she was worried that her daughter had fallen too hard too fast, just like she had. Kyoko was 16, she was still young. As pure as the intentions of these twins may be, they were young as well.

The front door clicked open, and Kotone looked up as her daughter walked into the house behind her cousin. Kyoko paused at the door to toe off her shoes, and then instead of nodding taciturnly in her direction and heading straight to her room, she walked right up to her instead.

"Mama, I need to talk to you."