The Art of Organizing |:| Kyoya X Reader

File 5

( :This: --> means speaking in English)

     It was early morning, two days later, and Kyoya was walking through the garden, clearing his mind after more Host Club shenanigans. He was about to go back when he heard laughter. Going to see what it was about, he feared the worst as he heard the hard noises of rock hitting a hard surface. His fear became reality as he stopped near a wall.

         "COME ON! Say something you American commoner!" A male student laughed.

         "I bet she doesn't even know Japanese!" A girl giggled in the background.

They threw more imported dirt, some having large rocks as they hit their target. Bruises were already forming on (Y/N)'s bare arms, and blood was seen dripping down her hand as it covered her face as protection. Another dirt ball was thrown by a young girl, the tag being a sharpened metal plate this time. It hit (Y/N) in the bag, tearing her shirt as the dirt now stained the newly revealed skin. Blood now trickled from the scratch.

     Kyoya revealed himself from his hiding place, earning everyone's attention. The girls fawned over him, oo'ing and aw'ing as he reached the edge of the group, closest to (Y/N). The boys smiled, and one offered him a dirt ball, the wooden tag said it was from Kenya.

         "Join in." The boy said.

        "You know what, I think I will."

Weighing the crumbling dirt in his hand, Kyoya took a step closer to the curled up girl. She flinched as she leaned on the wall for support. Kyoya took another step, then another, and another, until he was beside the weeping teen. Holding up the dirt over his head, he crumbled it, sending dust everywhere, all but ruining his uniform. The students of Ouron Academy stood aghast.

         "Yes, it's quite fun." His demeanor changed from mocking, to deadly as he glared at each and every student there, "Who would like to cast the next stone?"

     The group scrambled back for the safety of the Academy, some tripping over their own feet in their haste, leaving Kyoya with (Y/N) as her weeping turned to sobs once everyone was gone. Kyoya sat in the dust and dirt helping her pick up the tags, some wooden, some metal, and some paper.

         "Y-you shouldn't have-"

         "Done that? Perhaps, but they are drawing blood, and bruising you. Logically, that's not very good when your skin is as pearlecent as yours."

(Y/N) continued to pick up the tags in silence as Kyoya helped her, tears watering the ground as they slowly came less and less. Soon the tags were placed in a baggy, and Kyoya escorted (Y/N) to the nurse. Sadly, the nurse wasn't there, and her wounds were taken care of by Kyoya.

         "Why do you let this persist?"

         "It's a small price to pay... to make my parents proud." She sniffed.

         "They'll be devastated if they found out you were bullied to the point that you were being physically hurt."

         "What they don't know won't kill them."

         "At this rate it just might kill you." Kyoya stated as he found rubbing alcohol, "Now hold still... which scratch is the oldest?"

Holding up her hand, Kyoya thought she was going to reveal the cause of the blood there, but she only lifted up the hair from in front of her face, and revealed a large gash just above her forehead. Her hands were untouched. Kyoya quickly started disinfecting it.

         "Ouch! That stings!" (Y/N) hissed.

         "It's going to for much longer if you persist to act like a child."

The American girl went silent at this, and made little to no fuss throughout the cleaning and bandaging of each scratch and wound.

         "Your uniform is ruined." She stated when everything was taken care of.

         "Not ruined," Kyoya corrected, "Simply in need of a wash. And I believe you are as well... I'll go acquire you a uniform."

         "No need, I have spare cloths in my bag... I'll just change into those."

         "I'm afraid I can't allow that. You will take a shower in the nurse's shower room, and I will go find a fitting uniform, though I may need a shirt and pants to be able to find your correct size."

Kyoya left no room for argument as he ordered the American girl, to which she conformed, and went to find the nurse's shower room as her knight in shining armor went to find her a uniform, shirt and pants already in hand to find her correct size.

     He came back, finding (Y/N) being taken care of by the nurse who had just arrived. She was clean, at least, and putting on another set of spare clothes. She had shorts on, and the bandages were a burp in a symphony as she straightened the short sleeve shirt.

         "I brought you the uniform." Kyoya announced his presence.

         "I won't be needing it... but thank you."

         "I insist you wear it, that way the recent complications will be bypassed, and your bandages hidden."

         "Look I'm not hiding like some cowered."

         "Then disguise yourself like a spy in a mystery novel."

(Y/N) stared at him, curiosity and fear in her eyes.

         "I took the liberty of looking in your bag when I placed the tags in it. I've read Murder on the Orient Express a time or two myself."

         "You read English?"

         ":I speak it too, though I am not knowledgeable in English language.:" (Y/N) giggled at his accent, then apologized, though she still smiled.

         "May I ask how you became so adept in the Japanese language?"

         "I taught myself... took me three years, but I managed."

         "Indeed, your speech is almost flawless."

         "Emphasis on almost..." By now the nurse had left, and the two were left in the medical room, the smell of sterile liquids and cotton swabs permeating the air.

     It was quiet for quite some time, until Kyoya handed her the uniform, and told her to go change. (Y/N) followed orders, and found the uniform to fit quite well, with room enough for her bust so that the buttons weren't trying to pop off. She came out from behind the curtain, adjusting the cuff of her sleeve. Her (H/C) hair whisked around the collar of the blouse, (E/C) orbs shining as she looked in a body length mirror across the room.

         "It's... fitting." She said, cocking her head to the side.

         "Would you have preferred the female uniform?"

         "No... no this is fine." (Y/N) responded, "Um... I need to get to class." She rambled, picking up her bag.

         "I'll escort you."

         "There's really no need-"

         "I insist." Leaving no room for argument, Kyoya offered (Y/N) his arm, which she took, bag slung on her other side, slightly dirty, but still intact, and usable.