high_seas | Friends are the family you choose

Entry tags:

Friends are the family you choose

Who: Antoinette crew and others (mostly non-combatants who have joined temporarily)
Where: The Antoinette
When: Jan 20th-28thish
What: Crew shenanigans, both light-hearted and serious, while the rest of the ships prepare for and do battle with the witch.
Warnings: Possible strong language, will amend as necessary
Status: Open to those on the Antoinete

The Antoinette is a strange ship to be on. The (wise) decision was made not to go into battle, so it has been offered as a safe haven for those unable or unwilling to join the fight against the witch.

The air of light-heartedness found might, at times, feel forced, and it is a bit. The residents have only their morale to keep them going, so that's what they rely upon.

(Please feel free to either reply to the subject headers provided or make your own! This is just a general mingle log for anyone on the Antoinette. If your character is a non-combatant who wouldn't want to go into the fight or someone injured and unable to join the fight, Kyouya has publicly offered passage, so feel free to handwave being there.

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[He was walking around the ship. As always a ball of energy can't be kept chained to a bed. He wanted to know what everyone was doing. It was simply too boring to sit in his chambers and read books on how to be a better captain.

Above everyone else, he wanted to see what Kyouya was doing...and he did. Tamaki never thought he'd ever see Kyouya lift his hand on a child. It was something he knew hurt Kyouya every time his father decided to unjustly scold and punish him. It was painful, they never truly talked about it before, but he knew it hurt Kyouya in so many different levels. And there was that time in public, he knew it hurt Kyouya so much to have his friends see that. So why did he do it to that child.

He was shocked beyond words. He couldn't hear the conversation but he knew this was wrong. But how does he confront Kyouya about this?

When Kyouya left for the first time, Tamaki hid behind a huge pillar and barrels. He was confused with the scene he had just witnessed. But when he left Link a second time, Tamaki was at the door waiting for him.]

Kyouya!!

[The first couple times Tamaki had seen it, there had been attempts to discuss it. Attempts Kyouya had quickly cut off. Because discipline was a private matter, and it was humiliating enough that his father had decided their guest either didn't matter enough to show discretion around or was important enough that he could be allowed to see and understand. Kyouya had learned long ago how to stand firmly in place, how to time the slap to move his head a bit to take off some of the pain, and how not to make even the slightest sound when it happened.

At the fair... was another story entirely.

But the fact remained that he did, in fact, know of no other way to discipline a child. If anything, he considered himself tenfold or beyond more patient than his father. He'd attempted to explain. He'd given the boy an opportunity to apologize and change his behavior. He'd refused, so he'd done what was necessary.

He was flexing his hand a bit, his palm still bright red, far more unused to giving the punishment than receiving it, when he heard Tamaki say his name. He looked up, wondering for a moment if... But he'd glanced around, he thought. Made sure there wasn't anyone else to see. ...Was it to save Link or himself the witnesses? Maybe both.]

Tamaki.

How are you feeling?

[Tamaki simply nodded at the query.]

I'm getting a lot better..

[His tone was neither cheerful nor cold. He tried to keep an expressionless face, but his fear, confusion and anger were trying their best to surface on his features.

But he didn't want to yell at Kyouya in front of their guest. When it was Haruhi it was okay, because she really had it coming, and his friends understood his grief. But those were his friends, and Link didn't know Kyouya the same way Tamaki did.

He had to fix this more privately because he didn't want to hurt any of them.]

...I need to talk to you. Can we go to my quarters?

[Kyouya took a slight breath. He knew that look, knew that tone. He remembered it from the early days of the Host Club, when they would whisper over their immediate disputes and one would touch the other's arm, nod to the hallway. Because it had taken time to be comfortable with each other, with the rest.

So, he gave another nod. Small and discreet.]

Of course. Lead the way.

[He needed to be discreet. Because this was no longer just them, or just the host club. They're partners once more in this world. Captain and First mate. And they had to make it work without making people worrying and making it public.]

Okay.

[He was silent as they made their way up to the captain's quarters. He took the time to assemble his thoughts. Because he himself was still in shock with what he saw. For once, he had to be very careful with words.

They arrived and he opened the door. It still looked the same way since Celestia had disappeared. An ornate wooden desk on the center of the room, maps piled on a side table, tiny navigation instruments on top of the table and a book case on one end with a handful of books. There was also a partition on one end of the room which led to more private chambers. Beside his desk was a thin pillow, which was a makeshift bed for Antoine.

He waited for Kyouya to enter, before closing the door. He let out a short sigh as he made his way to sit on top of his desk.]

Tell me what happened....

[And when Tamaki heads for the desk, Kyouya, rather than taking a place at the same spot himself, stands by the door. His arms cross over his chest, his shoulders pull up straight but stay closed in. Half turned away, closed posture.

Defensive.

He doesn't need to ask what it's about. From Tamaki's look, from wanting to speak alone to this, from that tone. He knew it all.]

He was being disrespectful. I explained, warned him, and got nothing but being talked back to.

[Tamaki's violet hues did not leave Kyouya's form. This was a serious matter. And he didn't want it to reflect bad on them. But more importantly, he didn't want Kyouya to do the same things which he knew Kyouya hated when being done onto him.]

Kyouya, he's a kid. He's probably half our age!

How exactly was he disrespectful?

[Kyouya focuses on a piece of the wall, not looking at Tamaki. He just keeps his gaze where it needs to be. Which isn't meeting Tamaki's eyes.]

Carving into the deck, for one. I told him I'd make him sand it down if he continued to look bored; he decided to tell me that he was bored and hadn't bothered looking for other means of entertaining himself.

If he'd asked for something to do? I'd have put him to work. If he'd simply apologized? I'd have shrugged it off.

[It's easy to keep his voice even. To reveal nothing in it. Though, in its own way, that reveals everything. That the solid, calm mask is in place. Not the customer service smile. Not the young man who can smile his way past everything. But the other mask. The cool young man nothing ever fazes. The one nothing can touch and, therefore, nothing can hurt.]

Annoyed but let it be.

He decided not to do that. When I explained what he'd done that I saw as disrespectful -- after I'd warned him that if he continued, I'd slap him -- he decided to talk back. So, I did exactly as I threatened.

[Because he hates what this is. He hates what it says about him. And he hates that he still feels justified. The way he knows his father always felt when he did it. But he feels he did what he had to do.]

[He never let his gaze falter. He listened to Kyouya's explanation as always. It was rare that he had to take on the serious role. But he had to intervene. They were both his friends. However, Kyouya meant so much more to him. And it hurt Tamaki that Kyouya went that far to discipline Link.]

Kyouya, he's a little kid. He doesn't know better. He's not like us.

[Tamaki stood up, both arms at his side. The usual calm fading.]

I get that he was disrespectful, I get that he was defacing our property and I get that he was wrong in talking back. But how could you raise your hand on a little boy like Link?

..how could you do it when you know how painful it is to be at the receiving end!

I learned.

[His voice was pure ice.

Because he had to cut himself off. He had to be something less than human. He had to be what he'd tried so hard to make Haruhi think he was. That he was removed and callous and only concerned with himself. If he delved into this subject when he wasn't making it about himself.

When it didn't matter.]

I was younger than him the first time. No warning, no explanation. There never is.

Ask? "Figure it out."

[Sometimes the rules were spelled out for him. Usually, though, he was left to think what he'd done wrong.]

He stretched my patience to the limit, so I did something I knew he'd listen to.

DO YOU THINK THAT WAS RIGHT?

[His voice boomed. This was not right. He knows it wasn't. It was too painful. The first time he watched Kyouya get slapped, he cried for his friend. That sound echoed through his ears, and only sleep drowned it out.]

Kyouya, you know how wrong your father was! He had no right to hurt you that way!

Don't!

[Raised voice. No. No.

Kyouya closed his eyes briefly, took in a deep breath. Focus. Don't make it personal. Don't let it be personal. Even though it's personal. It's extremely personal.

He opened his eyes, kept his gaze on the wall.]

He raised four respectful, intelligent, dedicated children. While I may not always like my father's methods, they work.

I learned.

I tried to play nice, Tamaki. He didn't listen. So, I used a more effective method.

[He wasn't his father.

But he was.

At least right now. At least in this moment. That was exactly what Tamaki thought of him. He was an Otori. Nothing else mattered.]

[Tamaki wasn't the sort of person to ease on an argument when he knew he was right. Even when Haruhi was so sure she was right that time, and although it hurt him to have Haruhi ignore him, Tamaki never stopped.]

He could have done the same thing without resorting to such methods!

Did you forget how painful it was the first time his large hands hit your cheeks? Have you forgotten how much it hurts to have the man you respect hurt you?

If you want me to apologize? To him or to you? You're not going to get it.

[Now... Now he knew he was treading on thin ice. Every word was barbed, every sound was sharp. His muscles were too tense. He needed some way to lash out. At Tamaki, at himself, at anything.

But there was nothing he could do. Not standing in front of Tamaki.

So it was shoved down. Pressed further into him until he felt like he was choking on it. On all the anger he couldn't express, on everything he'd spent years not saying.

Because Tamaki didn't deserve that. He was trying to help.]

A situation arose, I handled it. You don't like how I handled it, fine. It won't happen again.

[Because he didn't need that look from Tamaki.

It was worlds away, but it reminded him too much of his father's looks. Not by expression but by result. It meant he was a disappointment. It meant he'd screwed up. It meant his value was damaged. It meant he wasn't capable. And he couldn't deal with that. Not here, not now. Not on top of everything else.

Whatever they wanted him to be? Whatever Tamaki wanted him to be? He'd be. Except apologetic. He wouldn't grovel.]

Is there anything else?

You think that's what I really want?

[His tone, his words, and his actions, Tamaki knew what they all meant. He didn't like it when Kyouya felt this way. He knew what it meant.

There was only one way to handle the situation, and it was the same way his mother would usually handle Tamaki when he was unsure of his actions.

He stretched out his arms and held Kyouya in an embrace. His hand stroking Kyouya's back gently.]

...I know you're in pain.

[Kyouya tensed.

He was used to Tamaki being physical. He was affectionate. He held and touched.

But, right now... No. He couldn't help it.

He recoiled from the embrace like it was a blow, tore himself away. Because he would not be pitied.

That cut even deeper.

He couldn't protect his friends. He acted like his father. He earned pity.]

God damn you.

[It's quiet, though. Hurt and anger and frustration and everything that had no outlet.

But. No. Deep breath in. Let it out. Straight up. Eye contact. Never mind that his hand was curled tight, that nails he was still trying to maintain were starting to cut into his skin.

If he'd thought he could live with himself after doing it, he'd have already lashed out his hand to smack Tamaki. Just to make him tell him to go. But that wasn't going to happen. He wasn't going to resort to that. He'd felt justified smacking Link. There would never be an excuse to slap Tamaki. He'd never let himself.]

May I go, Captain?

[Cold. Formal. Like their old arguments about the club. Back to those more uncertain days. When it was easier to use rank, while they were still settling into one another.

Holding desperately onto what pride he could still manage to salvage.

...Except he couldn't. Under his breath, he couldn't help but mutter, almost in apology:]

Let me leave, Tamaki. Give me space, give me time. Before I say or do something I really regret.

["I can't deal with this right now. Don't make me."]

Like what?

[It was all too shocking to Tamaki, but he had expected it to a certain degree. There was only so much his hold can do to calm Kyouya's emotions.

With his arms free, he used one to push on the door to prevent it from opening. His face hidden by his arm. His tone was very low.]

Hit me?

[There were no other emotions left, just pain. Pain that Tamaki had buried exceptionally like Kyouya did.]

Might as well do it. Because what you do to me every single time hurts more than any amount of physical pain you can ever deal towards me. I see how sad you are. I see your pain. I see the rush of emotions which you quickly try to hide with your smile whenever something or someone hurts you. It hurts me too..

[He fell silent for a brief moment. During which time small drops of tears fell to the wooden floor of the cabin.]

I'm such a fool, proclaiming to everyone that you are my best friend. Proclaiming that I'm Daddy and you are Mommy. And yet, when you need me most I can't even do anything for you. That somehow, you always have to choose to simply barricade your emotions and move on.

...I fail at this so badly.

Edited 2014-01-27 14:56 (UTC)

And I'm exceptionally good.

[There's nothing else he can do. Every other attempt to speak catches in his throat, threatens to make his knees buckle. There's so much pain, and he knows he's too old for that. So it converts to anger. Which has no outlet. So his nails just drive harder into his palm. Reminding himself to keep in check.

He can't find the words to tell Tamaki how remarkable he is. How far they've all come. Hikaru, Kaoru, Honey-senpai, himself, even Haruhi. They're all worlds away from the people they used to be. But two years doesn't unwrite fourteen. He was alone too long before Tamaki forced his way into his life, before he realized he had someone he could rely on. He was too used to only having himself, and too afraid of the day he'd only have himself again. This pain was something private, something that had been drilled into him young as unacceptable and shameful.

Tamaki wanted to fix everything. He could bring them together, start building sturdier walls to support their 'house,' but... he couldn't fix the cracks in the foundation. Not without some pain and some resistance.]

I can always find ways to disappoint.

[His father, his brothers, his sister, Tamaki. The first two grew increasingly less important the longer he was with Tamaki. Which made sure this conversation hit deep.

He'd disappointed Tamaki. Proven, like he'd always known, that he wasn't the warm man Tamaki thought he was.

His voice was low as his eyes shut, trying to detach himself, but it wouldn't work. Had he broken the skin on his palm? He wasn't even sure, but he kept his hand clenched. The pain kept the tears at bay, and that was all the pride he had left.]

I'm trying.

[They were words his father would never accept, but he tried offering them here, his head bowed and his eyes downcast.]

I can see that.

[His response was quiet. He hated these moments. He feels as if every single time this happens, Kyouya is moving away from him more and more. As if one day, Kyouya will just be sick of Tamaki and leave him alone.

One day he'll wake up and he'll be alone. He should just get used to it. After all, a bastard son should have nothing to ever live for. His mere birth was nothing more but a mistake.

He looked away from Kyouya and took a few steps back.]

You're not your father... stop trying so hard to be.

[He started walking further away. It was just so cold. He didn't like showing this side of him. But Tamaki felt like Kyouya has now pushed him much further than before. And he didn't know if he could push much further than this. He wants to, but he's also scared of being alone.]

That boy was once you...

...the boy that up until now, I'm trying very hard to protect.

You--

[That.

That was what stung. He didn't think there was anything left. Any deeper that blade could go. But, no. Tamaki, without even meaning to, found a way to hit a little harder.

Stop trying to be his father.

Tamaki still thought he wanted to be that man.

Two years of friendship, and that was what Tamaki thought of him. Not that he was trying to be the man Tamaki expected him to be. The friend Tamaki deserved.

He wasn't someone who protected his friends, not in this moment. He was someone to protect people from.

Kyouya took a deep breath, steadied himself, and gave a nod.]

Okay.

[Another breath, then he straightened himself and turned to walk out of the cabin.]

[He knew his words hurt. He knew it would hurt Kyouya. But in the brief time that they were together, he saw how warm and thoughtful Kyouya could be. He saw what no one else saw inside of Kyouya.

But seeing Kyouya's recent action scared Tamaki. It scared him to see something he had never expected. That short instance, it wasn't Kyouya. He didn't understand why he was disciplining that boy the way he was. It hurt so much to see Kyouya get slapped by his father time and time again. And now, Kyouya didn't even seem to regret his actions, and it scared him even more.]

Bye...

[He uttered as the door closed. His knees suddenly feeling weak, dropped Tamaki's body to the floor. Finally all the tears started falling rapidly and uncontrollably. Gasps for breath shortly followed his fall.

He won't be available for the rest of the day to his crew. Because he can't fake smiles. He can't fake happiness today. Because he's never felt as lonely as this for the past 2 years.]

[Kyouya swallowed hard at the sound of Tamaki's voice.

But he made himself keep walking. Step by step. Much as he hated himself with every step. He knew he needed to turn right around, needed to pound on the door until Tamaki let him in. Needed to say any and every phrase that would get Tamaki to smile a little. Something small.

He couldn't let himself do it.

Kyoua kept walking, all the way to his sick bay. He shut the door, braced his back against it, and slid down to sit. He opened his palm, looked at the small holes and the bit of blood he'd managed to draw. Nothing serious, nothing of actual consequence. Just an old habit flaring up, a way to get rid of everything on his mind.

He was alone. He was utterly alone. For the first time in two years, he was back at square one. No one to turn to.

Not even Fuyumi.

Not even Tachibana.

No one.]

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