3rd Person POV 

He should have expected it, but it still came as a slight surprise when his father brought her up over dinner. Prior to that moment, the conversation had been nonexistent. After all, beyond her, nothing important had happened since his father had last joined him for a meal.

"I heard from the hospital staff that you visited Hano Eri."

Kyoya paused, fork poised over his plate. His eyes flicked up to meet the unreadable expression his father wore. He'd known that the man would learn of her condition at some point-- his father was never the sort to ignore those Kyoya elected to spend his time with-- but it was surprising how quickly he'd gained that information. Despite the mixture of emotions that passed through him, Kyoya simply gave a small incline of his head.

"I did."

He could feel his father's eyes digging into him as he dropped his attention back to his plate. No doubt he was expected to provide more information than simply a confirmation, but while uncertain over what his father had been told, he was reluctant to share anything. This must have occurred to his father, because the man placed his fork on the edge of his plate. His eyes seemed to bore holes as they studied Kyoya without a hint of emotion betrayed on his face.

"From what I understand, her illness is considered to have a slim chance for a favorable outcome."

His father seemed to be picking his words with care, something that tugged Kyoya's eyes away from his plate once more. With the visible emotion of an iron wall, Kyoya once again inclined his head. Putting his emotions in a box, he-- like his father-- picked his words with care.

"According to her chart, that seems to be the case. The research center contacted me a few hours ago. Her blood work came back positive for pneumocystis jiroveci."

His father pursed his lips, the only betrayal of his thoughts on the manner. "And her current doctors?"

"Agreed with the diagnosis," Kyoya replied. "They'd performed a chest radiography prior to the call, and had already assumed this to the be case. They've also expressed a concern that she may be developing ARDS as a result of the damage in her lungs."

His fingers tightened around his fork, knuckles white. It'd taken the utmost control to keep his voice calm and detached-- as if he were talking about a stranger. Thankfully, his father had yet to shift his gaze away from Kyoya's face-- perhaps searching for any crack in emotions that might show, so he most likely hadn't noted the tension that laced Kyoya's entire frame.

"Are you in a relationship with her?"

Kyoya locked his jaw. Was he?

"No."

His father's eyes search through a full minute of silence. Then, his father dropped his gaze, picking up his fork once again. After several minutes, Kyoya placed his fork on the napkin beside his plate and pushed away from the table. Offering a slight bow in his father's direction, he met the man's gaze with his own.

"If I may be excused..."

His father inclined his head. Kyoya turned to go, carefully keeping his hands tucked in front of him to hide the furled fists from his father's watchful eyes.

"Kyoya."

He paused just before the door. Glancing back over his shoulder, he unclenched a hand as to place his pointer finger against the bridge of his glasses.

"Yes, Otousan?"

There was the faintest wrinkle between his father's brows, the man's lips pursed in that same, disagreeable manner. His words, however, were the warmest Kyoya'd heard in a long time.

"If you wish to change your answer, I wouldn't disapprove."

For a moment, Kyoya's brain seemed to have stopped functioning. Then, as it kicked into gear once again, he found himself turning around fully to search his father for anything that might indicate the reason behind such an announcement. It took a few seconds, but then he realized that beyond the potential emotional injury if he was attached to her, his father could see no negative outcome for their family in this situation. The Hano twins were the youngest of a couple deeply entrenched in politics, after all. They owned many companies, here and there, with no particular focus in any fields, and were rumored to be running for higher offices in the upcoming elections. There'd be no harm to the Ootori group if Kyoya were to get involved with them. His father had said as much when the topic of the girls hanging around the host club had arisen.

Still...

He gave the slightest incline of his head. "I stand by my previous sentiment."

Again, several minutes of silence as the two of them seemed to war over unspoken words. Then, his father shook his head, also placing his fork to the side of his plate.

"I understand. Given the circumstances, however, I've arranged for her to be moved to the VIP section of the hospital, and your brother will be overseeing her case, although a specialist will be her main doctor. From what I understand, her parents have no intention of returning from their current trip abroad, so I've nothing against your spending as much time as you wish there, as long as your studies aren't affected. It will look well on us in the long run."

He couldn't help but wonder if there was something unspoken in his father's words. The way the older man was looking at him seemed to be saying something else. His words, however, were the only true evidence Kyoya had on the matter, so he once again inclined his head in understanding to the seemingly cold assessment.

"I understand."

"Then you're dismissed."

Kyoya retreated down the hall, then up to the second level. Out of range of his father's eyes, his hands curled into fists to keep from shaking. Those words kept echoing through his mind.

"A slim chance for a favorable outcome. A slim chance... "

The second he'd made it to his room, the door was shut and his back resting against it. Kyoya laid his head against the hard wood, his mind going in circles.

"If you wished to change your answer, I wouldn't disapprove."

A humorless laugh left his lips, Kyoya running a hand up his face, finger adjusting his glasses. His father, a man who he knew would have no trouble marrying him and his brother off to business partners in the future, had no trouble if Kyoya changed the terms of his relationship with Eri. And what was his relationship with her? Fellow host club members?

"A slim chance for a favorable outcome."

"Is it bad that bad? You've never babied me before, Kyoya. Don't start now."

Unbidden, his mind drew up the image of her in that hospital bed. Of how she'd curled up in pain when those coughs tore through her, yet her mind had obviously been on her sister, not herself, as she'd attempted to keep from waking Emi with her coughing. It paired this image with that of her in his vehicle, when she'd talked of the future she dreamt of.

He found himself sinking to the floor, his back still against the door. Was there some way to fix this situation? He'd attempted that once, and had indirectly caused the state she was in now. He didn't regret those actions, however, as if she hadn't gotten sick... things would have worked out. He'd seen her reports from the research hospital-- her cancer had been heading into remission once again. His actions had helped.

No matter how hard he thought about it this time, however, not a single answer came to his mind.

She'd finally been looking to the future, and for some unknown reason... it'd pleased him. He'd enjoyed hearing her speak of what she wanted to do after high school. Of her enthusiasm as she spoke of that book signing by her favorite...

He tensed. That... it was barely nothing, but it was something. It might bring a smile to her, at least.

What did it matter, though? Was it worth going through the trouble? There was no real benefit to skipping class for something so... trivial. In fact, it'd probably be the opposite of beneficial, as his father had said that the only thing he couldn't do in this situation was harm his studies.

You could go during lunch.

Why, though? It wasn't as if it would change anything.

He dropped his hand from his face, resting both fists against the floor on either side of him. For several seconds, he focused on his breathing, on how easy it was for him to take deep, calming breaths, in comparison to the pained ones she'd been taking in the hospital. It wasn't until he'd opened his eyes-- not having realized he'd shut them-- and focused on the room that he noticed the clothing strewn every which way. He blinked, unable to recall doing anything that morning that could have resulted in such a mess.

"... 'neesan?"

Fuyumi appeared within seconds, a shirt in her hand. Her lips were curled up into a grin.

"Kyoya--" she began, then cut herself off, brow knitting. "What's wrong?"

Her hands lowered, the shirt nearly skimming the ground. In turn, he sighed and heaved himself up from the floor. In seconds he'd crossed the floor, snatching his shirt from her hands.

"Please quit 'organizing' my drawers, Fuyumi-neesan."

"Wait, Kyoya, I wasn't done!"

"You're done."

"Bu--"

"You're done."

"Fine, but that means you've got to tell me all about your girlfriend!"

"Neesan!"