Tears, from both frustration and anger , welled in my eyes. They stung as I tried to force them back. The little droplets of water managing to slip by blended into the sweat that ran down my face, neck and body.
I fell, hands collapsing to the blue not-so cushioned hard matts on the dojo floor.
"Again." My Father ordered. Shaking, I stood up. The black belt boy in front of me, looked to me apologetically.
He had been training me since I was small; he knew the drill. Each day after work and school comes five hours of practice. It would be longer on the weekends.
My schedule was school, Host Club, Dinner, Practice. Bed. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less.
That wasn't his fault. I had a weak immune system. A new environment, OR illness, could be the end of me.
The famous saying I've heard is "Shogenai" or "It cannot be helped". A simple, yet deep, meaning to it. It's said over and over as I tried to convince myself that I live and breath for the Kage Group.
Again, I was thrown to the matt. I landed on my back, the wind being knocked out of me. I gagged, coughing and spitting to catch my breathe.
My body ached. It was bruised and strained from the forms I had practiced today. And yet they we're the things I practices everyday.
The only difference? Today, I had been given news.
Bad news.
"Enough." My father sighed in disappointment. I stood, facing him with my head down. "Antoinette, lift your head." I did as I was told. He glared to me, keeping his eyebrows firmly knitted together.
"You admire Tamaki's art? Is that correct?"
"His... Art?"
"The French Artworks."
"Oh." I closed my eyes. He referred to anything having to do with my Mother or France as Tamaki's fault or doing. I presumed that was partly my fault. "Yes. I plan to study art."
"Tamaki art?"
"French impressionism, sir. I have already mastered oil pastel and paints on canvas'." I explained. I then cleared my throat, "I mean, art is something that Mother taught me. I love it for that reason."
"I see." He nodded. It was odd. Why would be bring up French art?
"And do you love Tamaki?"
My face burned. What the heck? How was I supposed to answer that?
"Yes sir, I love the Suou family, in general."
"And Ootori Kyoya?" My face darkened. I had never thought about them like that. Tamaki was my older brother figure. Of course I loved him.
"Sir?" I answered. Ootori Kyoya? "I don't know."
I mean, my heart always sped up, I'm always eager to have a snappy remark to his comments... But does that mean I'm in love? I didn't think so. But then again, what do I really know?
Then, my Father held out his hand. I starred down to it. Was I to take it?
I reached out. Before grasping his hand, his leg shot up, swiping under me. He twisted my arm and I collapsed to the ground crying out in pain.
"S-Sir!" I gasped, unable to escape the hold that threatened to break my arm. My eyes filled with tears and I slammed my fist down onto the mat.
"Stay down. You are a disgrace to the family name. You will practice for double the amount of time now. Is that clear?"
"Quite." I whimpered, as he let go. My arm fell beside me, as I stayed down on the mat.
"Seeing as you have time to doodle, you have time to progress your studies further. You don't have time to fill it with nonsense." I cradled it in my other arm, tears silently streaming down my face in pain.
.
.
.
"Kyoya." My father said, sitting across the table from him. For some reason my father insisted that Kyoya and Tamaki stayed for dinner.
"Yes, Sir?"
"How has the Ootori Group been?"
"Well," kyoya looked to me, unsure of how to answer the demanding question. "The Ootori Group has extended it's Medical Fields in to America."
"I see."
"And we have placed a new Hospital in France, just outside of Paris."
"Paris." The words escaped my lips slightly, as I barely whispered the word. Boy, did that place bring back my treasured memories of my Mother.
"Paris~" Tamaki cooed. He placed his fork in his saled, and elegantly took a piece. "So, Sir, How has the Kage Group been?"
"Good as usual. Everything is perfect. Isn't that right, Antoinette?"
"Hm?" I looked to my father, before realizing what he had said. I nodded, "Of course, Sir." I nodded in agreement with whatever he was saying. I tended to do that.
"And of Course, Antoinette is turning seventeen."
"Yes Father, they know." I assured.
"I'm sure they do." He smiles, "And both men, I hope, they know what that means? And I wrong?"
Kyoya and Tamaki both shook their heads "Yes." I raised an eyebrow, what exactly did that mean?
"Um. Sir, if you don't mind me asking, what exactly does that mean?"
"That you're of age to take over the company, child." He said, harshly, snapping his head over in my direction. I flinched, nodding.
Coming of age.
Hah.
Just marry me off for profit. That's what it really meant.
"Of course." I let out a small chuckle. "The Kage Group is very important to me." I lied.
I was getting out of here the first chance I got.
.
.
.
My father had left, and I still laid crumpled on the ground, cursing. My arm had defiantly stayed where it was - Not allowing me to move it at all.
"Ok. You're okay." I insisted standing up. "You're fine. Just go to bed." I closed by eyes and took a shakey breath.
I squeezed my arm tightly to my chest, and made my way to my room.
On the desk, laid the box. The same box I had attempted to open days ago. I thought I had put it away... Why was it out again?
I shook my head, before pulling off my sweatpants and tank top, and getting into the shower. I pulled the hot water on, and steam swept across the en suite.
I sighed in relief. The bathroom is like a safe haven. No one comes in. I can just relax in the shower or the soaker tub.
I could barely lift my arm without pain shooting through it.
That's when I realized. It was my art hand. My left hand. My left hand that allowed me to write. To paint. To sketch. To do art.
And I couldn't move it.
Tears welled in my eyes, as I collapsed into the steamy water that sprayed from the shower. Fog filled the air, as the water became hotter, and my sobs were melted into the beating of the water on my back.
My head snapped up, as an idea popped into my head: Kyoya.
Kyoya would know what to do. I would call Kyoya.
.
.
.
"Honestly, it's three am. Can this not wait until the morning?" Kyoya growled on the other side of the phone.
"Look, Mr.Diva-Queen, I... Just get your butt to my house. It's important."
"But my bed is so warm." Kyoya groaned. The poor boy hated waking up. I was surprised he had left his phone on. It was as if he predicted this would happen. After a pause, came a long sigh. "Give me ten minutes. Unlock your window."
"Yes Sir." I added sarcasm. This was usual, in a way. I unlatched the window lock and quickly changed into pajamas. Once I had finished, I looked to my arm.
It was bruised in several places. Maybe some sort of internal bleeding. And lots of cuts and scraps.
The wind blew the white curtains that displayed a silhouette. Kyoya.
"Hello, Annie?"
"It's clear." I said, forcing a smile. He walked in. Looking to my arm, he tsked.
"I thought you said it was just a cut?"
"This one." I pointed to the gash on my inner forarm. "I can barely move my fingers."
"No kidding. You look like you we're out through a blender." He rushed over, lightly touching my arm. I winced, pulling away.
"If you want to get better, give me your hand."
"I can show you the world~"
"Not what I meant." Kyoya frowned. He pushed his glasses up, as he examined my arm.
"Shining shimmering, Splendid! Tell me Kyoya, when did you let your heart last decide?"
"I got out of bed for you. That's what my heart decided." Kyoya grumbled, bandaging my arm.
"a whole new world!" I sang.
"You're as idiotic as Tamaki."
"Thank you for noticing." I giggled. When he had finished, he smirked to me. The mysterious smirk that made me intrigued as to what exactly that boy thought of.
Kyoya patched up my arm, and after he applied Band-Aids, I was good to go.
"Thank you." I nodded to him.
"it was nothing." He said, sitting on my bed next to me. My heart throbbed, as I started shaking. What was this feeling?
I was getting anxious. Like someone was a about to happen. I didn't understand until I looked to Kyoya.
He looked back to me with a smirk. He eyes demanding answers.
"Your father?"
"It was training." I replied, "We had gotten into an argument. I let my guard down."
"You- Antoinette Kage, let your guard down?"
"I know, that never happens." He sat silently trying to deduce me, "Okay Sherlock Holmes-"
That's when he leaned in, fixing a strand of hair that fell into my face.
I blushed, and didn't know how to react.
Hit his hand?
Punch him?
Throw him out my window?
Puke on his shoes?
But then, something happen.
He hovered. My eyes widened as I realized what was going happened. I closed my eyes, feeling my ears burn as we got closer to each other.
He leaned in, and he kissed me.