This is something I wrote a year or so ago, but I decided to post it up to get a feel for what I think I'm supposed to be doing. : P Just let me know if I did something wrong. (Knowing my luck, I probably did...).
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Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Ootori Kyouya looked up at the clock that hung on the wall of his dorm. He supposed he should be in bed. All the other students were asleep at this ungodly hour. Of course, Kyouya had never been considered normal. Who would be, after spending years friends with the likes of Suou Tamaki and his band of merry men? (Well, he wasn't sure if Fujioka Haruhi fit into the category of ‘merry’, nor in the category of ‘men’.) Not many people who were often in close proximity with such insanity could ever be considered normal.
Even though he hadn’t been in contact with the other Host Club members for years – since he had graduated – Kyouya was still, in a sense, scarred for life. Not that the experiences with the Host Club were bad: he just probably wouldn’t be the same person he was if he hadn’t been friends with the others.
Kyouya sighed, pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose. He had been on his laptop, studying, for the past five and a half hours, and he was actually starting to become quite tired. Suppressing a yawn, he grudgingly exited out of the open windows with a click of the mouse and shut down the laptop, folding it up. Placing it into its bag, he put the laptop in one of his drawers which he then locked.
Returning to his chair, Kyouya sat back and closed his eyes for a brief moment. However, he was startled out of his half-conscious state of being by a ring tone that he had not heard in quite a while. Three years and two months, to be exact. Opening his eyes, Kyouya eyed the cell phone which was sitting on his desk. Picking it up, he examined the picture that it was displaying on the caller ID. It was a photograph of a red-haired boy, his hair parted on the left side of the screen – the boy’s right. He was smiling up at Kyouya, some unknown person’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, a small bit of similar-looking red-haired person visible off to the side.
With a small smirk on his lips, Kyouya flipped open the phone and answered the call. “Yes, Hikaru?” he asked, addressing the boy on the other end of the line. Kyouya was greeted by a burst of noise coming from the speaker of the phone, forcing him to hold the phone a foot away from his ear. When the mixed sound of screaming and attempted explanation subsided, Kyouya again returned the phone to his ear.
“Is there any particular reason why you chose to wake me at such an hour?” Kyouya asked, trying to calm down the babbling Hikaru and make some sense out of what he was trying to say.
Hikaru then proceeded to explain to Kyouya why he had called, all the while seemingly holding back tears.
“Are you sure?” Kyouya asked. “You never really know with him.”
Another burst of angry noise came from the phone.
“Fine, fine. Wait until morning and see if you hear anything. Until then, calm down. Talk to me in the morning when I’ve had some sleep.” Kyouya sincerely doubted that Hikaru wouldn’t be able to sleep until then, but he could hope. “Good bye, Hikaru.” When confronted with yet another racket, he snapped the phone shut. To avoid getting another call from the panicked Hikaru, Kyouya turned off the phone and put it back on the desk.
Deciding that a good night’s sleep would be best, Kyouya headed off to bed.
Well, then. These next few days should certainly prove to be interesting, he thought before turning off his desk lamp and rolling over, falling asleep almost instantly. He certainly did not expect what would greet him on the following morning.
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