ouran (kyouya/tamaki)

[thejennabides.livejournal.com]

TITLE: Paper and String
AUTHOR: Jenn Abiding
RATING: K
NOTES: Much thanks to corazon_d_fuego and kannnichtfranz for the betas; all remaining errors, flaws, and shortcomings are, of course, entirely mine.
PROMPT: Ouran, Kyouya/Tamaki: holding hands in public – "Let's give them something to talk about".



Kyouya's hand is starting to hurt, but he doesn't let up. He has been writing steadily since they left the last station, whichever one it was. He should have been paying more attention, he knows, but the world is still a bit of a blur; the only thing that has been keeping him awake is his notebook.

At first, he was planning out all the ways he was going to make Tamaki pay for rousing him a full hour before they were scheduled to depart from the Ootori residence in Tokyo. He had pounced on Kyouya with a change in their plans: "We're going to take the local trains!" Tamaki had decreed, with an enthusiasm too loud and far too bright for that hour of the morning. "I read on the Internet last night that locals trains are," he had paused to quote with a dramatic flair, "'a good chance to get a glimpse of the everyday life of Japanese people.'" Kyouya assumes that Tamaki had been smiling when he said it, and he assumes that Tamaki had said more – like how this was going to take seven hours if they were lucky with timing, rather than the two and a half that their reserved seats on the express would have taken; and that with the risks of an unplanned journey, it might take more like nine or ten hours.

One thing Kyouya does remember distinctly is that Tamaki insisted they needed to leave for the station that very moment, in order to ensure that Tamaki would have a window seat now that their tickets were no longer reserved. Kyouya remembers this very clearly, not only because he had required Tamaki to give him a reason for moving at that untoward and unexpected hour, but because the conversation was rendered both moot and relevant at the same time when the doors to the train opened – and they were met with long benches lining the sides, facing inward; or, if you preferred to read it that way, all facing the window on the opposite side of the train car. Moot, of course, was having been dragged from his bed; relevant was the darkness of the mood that shrouded Kyouya.

With his unique and cheerful obliviousness, Tamaki had deposited Kyouya on a seat and sat beside him for all of ten seconds before he got up to offer his own seat to an American tourist. There had been two tourists, and Kyouya had wondered resentfully if he was going to be made to offer up his own seat to the other woman; but to the contrary, Tamaki had pressed a hand down on Kyouya's shoulder, relieving him of any such obligation. He had then struck up an animated conversation with the women, practicing his English with them and allowing them to practice their limited and rather atrocious Japanese with him. It was a relief to Kyouya when they stopped mangling his language and carried on in English, which was much easier for him to tune out. Moreover, Tamaki's usual storytelling gesticulations were impeded by the thick crowd of the car, thus allowing Kyouya even more concentration.

Once Kyouya had satiated his desire for revenge fantasy, he gave himself over to studying the route Tamaki had put them on ("We should avoid the industrialized Shinkansen line," Tamaki had quoted again, "and take the JR Chuo line instead. It goes through mountains and villages! We shall drink in the magnificence and bucolic beauty of rustic Japan!") Understanding that Tamaki's new plan had been developed only as far as "take local trains," Kyouya began to study timetables from the thick schedule book he had managed, even in his sleep-blurred state, to obtain at Shinjuku Station. Then he turned to the travel books, open in his lap now, pouring over them in preparation for any whim of Tamaki's to stop along the route, or for any historical or cultural question that might pop out of Tamaki's mouth, inspired by whatever he has seen out the window.

Not that Kyouya thinks Tamaki has looked out the window even once, on any of the trains they have transferred to. He has been engaged steadily in conversation with the two Americans; as Kyouya finishes the last of his notes, closes the cover of his notebook, clips the pen into place and sits back with momentarily closed eyes, Tamaki's voice continues to penetrate his mind. Kyouya missed the beginning of the conversation where the women mentioned their destination; he sincerely hopes it is not Kyoto.

This is the first of the post-graduation holidays that Tamaki proposed and Kyouya agreed to take, recreating those weekend excursions they took when they first met. Only instead of going by private car, they're traveling by train now – "the commoner way." Kyouya can't help reflecting that if they'd gone by private car, they'd be at their destination by now. In a way, though, he has no one to blame for his current plight but himself: this had been his suggestion, albeit inadvertently. He had said it in jest, but when Tamaki lit up like that, there was no way Kyouya could disabuse him of the notion. So here they are, on one in a succession of yellow trains to Kyoto.

Kyouya shakes out his writing hand. He knows using a laptop would be easier on his hand, but sometimes he likes the more tangible sensation of writing, the visceral scratch of the pen; sometimes he doesn't want pixels, but the rhythm and flow of ink on paper.

"Kyouya," Tamaki says now, turning from his conversation companions, "have you strained yourself again?"

Kyouya is in no mood for a lecture about overdoing anything, especially not from Tamaki. But Tamaki surprises him once more by saying, "Here, give me your hand," unfolding his own with a flick of the wrist as he extends it in offering. Kyouya wonders if Tamaki knows just how often and how much he still surprises Kyouya. Although Tamaki appears to be entirely unaware of it, Kyouya guesses that Tamaki does catch the surprise now and then, and has just matured to the point of not needing to flaunt the effect.

Not sure what to expect, but willing to humor, Kyouya holds out his hand. Letting go of the strap he's been holding onto, Tamaki drops to his knees to take Kyouya's hand in both of his. Kyouya frowns, but Tamaki offers only a smile in response. He looks down as he strokes up from Kyouya's fingers to his wrist with the palms of both hands, spreading warmth over Kyouya's skin. Then he turns Kyouya's hand palm-up and rubs small, firm circles into Kyouya's palm with his thumb, kneading the muscles at the base of each finger. Almost against his will, Kyouya starts to ease, not only in his hand but warm relaxing ripples throughout his body. "Harder," he murmurs, and Tamaki looks up at him to smile again before indulging his request, and the warmth turns to heat. Then Tamaki repeats the movements, this time using his knuckles for an even stronger pressure, and Kyouya lets his eyes slip closed.

He keeps his eyes closed as Tamaki turns his hand over, the pad of Tamaki's finger soothing twists down the grooves between Kyouya's tendons from wrist to knuckle, Tamaki's fingertip slipping off to meet his thumb in a gentle, sliding pinch of the webs of skin between fingers; Kyouya feels a corresponding curl of heat in his belly with each easy tug.

Now Tamaki ministers to each individual finger, rubbing his thumb in circles from knuckle to tip. Tamaki's fingers slip away beneath Kyouya's one by one as Tamaki makes his way down, until his thumb comes to the tip; and with another firm but gentle tug, he moves on to the next finger. Kyouya feels his breath swirling in small circles as he takes it in and lets it out, slow easy rhythm and flow of circulation.

Kyouya meditates on sensation as his hand, once more palm-up, is taken in both of Tamaki's. He feels Tamaki's thumbs centered just below his wrist, probably touching each other. Now Tamaki's thumbs drag over Kyouya's hand to the edges, as if to coax it apart; but it is only the remaining threads of strain that break, warmth and ease wrapping Kyouya inside-out and holding him together. As Tamaki massages Kyouya's palm all over, the last of Kyouya's tension washes away in a deep sigh.

Kyouya opens his eyes now and finds his gaze cradled in Tamaki's, as his hand is cradled still.

Barely muffled giggling comes from a group of school-age girls sitting on the opposite side of the car. Kyouya stiffens, chastising himself for having forgotten where they were, for having let himself become so unguarded in such a public space.

But Tamaki doesn't let go of his hand. He is still looking at Kyouya when Kyouya looks back, and his smile opens as their eyes meet again. Tamaki's lashes flutter – but when he brings Kyouya's hand to his mouth and touches his smile to the heart of Kyouya's palm, Tamaki is steady; it is Kyouya who feels shivers vibrating down his spine.

It should be performance: this is how Mori and Honey and especially Hikaru and Kaoru always played it at the host club when they had a receptive audience. But this does not feel like performance. That flutter, that smile, that kiss were for Kyouya, he feels. Are for him; entirely for him.

Tamaki releases his hand now, only to take the other. Kyouya says that he didn't write with that hand, but Tamaki only says, "Just because it hasn't been used, that's no reason to neglect it." He gives Kyouya the smile that says he will not be argued with, and Kyouya is smart enough not to challenge him. Instead, he closes his eyes and lapses back into a meditative state as Tamaki massages his hand. When Tamaki finishes, he holds on for an extra moment as before, although he doesn't kiss this hand.

"I was going to wait until we were in Kyoto," he says as he lets go, "but – perhaps now?" He gives what Kyouya recognizes as his "mysterious & enigmatic smile" and gets to his feet without waiting for a response, reaching for the overhead bin. He murmurs to himself as he rummages around, and then an exclamation of "ah, excellent!" comes down with bright clarity. In the next moment, Tamaki is presenting Kyouya with a small wooden box. He remains standing, hand hooking into the transit strap as he leans down to watch Kyouya examine it.

The lid of the box is intricately carved in a classic floral pattern and lacquered in layers of red and black. Definitely kamakurabori, possibly from the Taisho period. Kyouya turns it over, and as he suspected he finds the imprint of the Hakkoodoo store in Kamakura. It is, as far as Kyouya can tell, authentic. He looks up to express his appreciation, thanking Tamaki for the gift and complimenting him on his taste.

"Oh, that's not the gift!" Tamaki says. His mouth and eyes can barely contain his enthusiasm. "That's just the wrapping. Look inside!" His fingers twitch with the desire to open the lid, but show enough restraint merely to flutter through the air.

Kyouya is not sure what to expect now. He looks at the shape and size of the box, and thinks it might contain a watch. Possibly even a pocket watch. Engraved with words about time spent together, or some such curvaceously-lettered sentimentality. He half-expects it to be bejeweled in some way, maybe a diamond-encrusted face. Or more likely something with color, rubies or sapphires or emeralds, or all three. He opens the lid, and finds –

Paper and string. Colorful, yes: colorful wads of paper and colorful tangles of string. He thinks perhaps Tamaki is having a joke, and he wonders if this is the European influence on his friend's sometimes strange sense of humor.

But then Tamaki says, all eagerness and sincerity, "Do you like them?"

Kyouya looks closer, and realizes now that the wadded paper is actually a jumble of slightly squashed paper cranes. As he lifts them out delicately, separating and restoring them to form, he realizes Tamaki must have made them. When asked, Tamaki confirms it with a smile, proud and shy. "Did you make this, too?" Kyouya asks, pointing to the colorful cacophony of knotted string.

Tamaki nods as he takes it out, and Kyouya sees now that there are two of them. "They're friendship bracelets," Tamaki says. It turns out that he was on an outing with Haruhi one Sunday afternoon in the park, when they went by a group of very young students in uniforms bearing the insignia of the nearby international school. The colors flashing in the children's hands had captured Tamaki's attention, and when he tarried to watch, the teacher had come over and answered Tamaki's every question about origami, finally inviting Tamaki to try his hand at the art. Tamaki had tried to persuade Haruhi to join him in the endeavor, but she had declined in favor of sitting on a bench under a cherry tree to read one of the heavy books she had brought along with her. So Tamaki had braved the class on his own.

Kyouya pushes his glasses up to hide the smile that forms at the image of Tamaki sitting amidst a group of small children learning how to fold their first paper cranes.

"Then," Tamaki goes on, "the teacher said they were going to make friendship bracelets. I was going to make them for the entire host club. But," an intent but tiny furrow forms on his brow, "they are harder to make than they look! In the end," the furrow crinkles sorrowfully, "I only managed three."

Kyouya does not ask where the third went. He looks at Tamaki again, still holding the bracelet on his open palm. Kyouya picks it up and examines it, looking past the dubious craftsmanship and materials, at the composition; even deeper, at the intention.

As if Tamaki has read his mind, he says, "When we were choosing our paper for the cranes, the teacher explained to us what each color means. I thought to follow the same code when choosing my string." His smile is full of pride for his innovative approach. "Pink," he begins, running his fingertip along a patch of that color, "represents happiness." Kyouya glances over at the corresponding crane.

His attention is brought back by Tamaki, who kneels once more between Kyouya's feet and cups his hand as he points out each color and its significance in turn: yellow for freedom and joy, green for luck and (a wink with the grin) wealth, orange for enthusiasm, blue for honor, black for physical strength. "Brown and beige are for the loyalty of a true friend," Tamaki explains; "this light one here is called 'tea.' It represents remembrance, and the very fondest of memories." He looks up, some of those very memories shining in his eyes, radiating to Kyouya.

Tamaki looks down to find the last color. "And the dark crimson," he says, fingertip resting on it as he looks up again, his eyes full of a softer smile, "stands for inner beauty and inner strength. It is the color of soul mates."

Part of Kyouya's mind knows that the train, while not as crowded as some of the others they've been on today, is by no means empty; but another part of him is not on the train anymore. He is, somehow, entirely in Tamaki's eyes.

"There are two bracelets," he finally thinks to say.

"Yes! I thought two would be better than one. You may wear them both together, or adorn yourself with only one, saving the other as you see fit. They last but a precious few months, you see," Tamaki explains solemnly. "The custom is to wear it until it falls off."

Even as Kyouya is saying words uncharacteristically unpremeditated, he knows they are the right ones: "Why don't you wear the other?"

The furrow reappears between wide open eyes. "I made them for you."

"And nothing would please me more," Kyouya says as he takes the other out of the box, and holds it out to Tamaki, "than that you wear the companion one."

Tamaki's face flushes the color of inner beauty and inner strength. "Then that is what would please me best, as well." A new smile graces his face. "But here, let me help you with yours first." He pushes Kyouya's cuff up and ties the first bracelet around his wrist. "There," Tamaki pats the cuff back in place, "it is quite discreet and shouldn't cause you any undue trouble." He turns his still-smiling face up to Kyouya and holds out his own wrist.

Kyouya lets Tamaki's words slide, focusing instead on fastening the twin bracelet onto Tamaki. As he draws Tamaki's cuff down over it, he looks at Tamaki, whose gaze has lowered to watch the bracelet as it disappears from sight. Then Tamaki looks up and catches Kyouya looking at him, and Kyouya doesn't look away.

"You knew, right from the start." Tamaki's brow arches at Kyouya's words and his lips part, but Kyouya is already elucidating: "The first day we met, you called me your close friend."

Tamaki relaxes into a warm, luminous smile. "You were," he says, tone matching his smile. "You are."

Kyouya does not tell Tamaki how rare that is. How rare Tamaki himself is. "You are mine, too," he says instead. "My close friend. My closest."

"Kyouya," Tamaki beams at him, "you're smiling!" The wattage from Tamaki's smile intensifies the heat on Kyouya's face.

Kyouya finds himself fingering the bracelet under his cuff. He thinks about what Tamaki said about how the bracelet will fall off, the bond dissolving naturally in a few months. "Will we be close throughout our lives, do you think?" As he turns to Tamaki now, Kyouya finds himself looking for the wisdom Tamaki seems to carry in his heart.

"Yes."

The answer is uncharacteristically brief, though typically Tamaki did not hesitate or even appear to think before opening his mouth; he did not have to, Kyouya understands. Kyouya looks deeper into Tamaki's eyes, as if to verify the veracity of the word. "No matter what the future holds?"

"Come what may," Tamaki vows with a smile.

"There will be things beyond our control."

"Yes. There will be choices made for us," Tamaki allows. "And there will be choices we make, too."

Wordlessly, they consider the futures that lie ahead of them.

Then Tamaki acknowledges the one that lies between them, that has lain dormant and may yet still for awhile, but not forever: "I will not give her up easily," he says, speaking with his own heart and not his father's mouth, though the two coincide in this matter. Kyouya hopes he, himself, will always be able to do the same; if he does, he knows it will be because of the young man kneeling before him now. "But I will never give you up, Kyouya."

When Kyouya gets to his feet, Tamaki stands too. "Are you tired of sitting? Should we get off at the next stop and walk around?"

Kyouya does not tell Tamaki that he had half-expected – no, that he had wanted Tamaki to leap onto him with that proclamation of friendship he had bestowed the day they met. Instead, he says that would be fine; he already has a catalogue of every sight they could possibly take in at every stop they could possibly make along the Chuo line. "But," he thinks to add, "you've been on your feet for hours. Would you not like to sit for awhile?"

"Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine!" Tamaki waves off the offer. "Besides," he unfolds at the elbow, fingers opening in a flutter, "I can enjoy the glorious vistas of rural, historical Japan much better from up here!"

Kyouya turns to look out the window, too. Their hands brush with the sway and rush of the train as it rounds a bend; even as the train is straightening again, Kyouya curves his hand around Tamaki's, slides up to find the hidden bracelet. He rests his fingers there, feeling not just the bracelet but Tamaki's skin, his pulse beneath it.

As the train continues on, the light shifts so that Kyouya sees Tamaki's reflection in the window, and the world passing by on the other side of it, a shimmering blur to Tamaki's steady smile.

Comments

[misura.livejournal.com]

A delighful and light-heartedly romantic read - I loved the way you wrote both characters and their relationship. The present tense worked well for this piece, too - it made the scenes feel more lively somehow, more like you were there right here, right now (which I suppose is the whole point of present tense, but sometimes, it just doesn't seem to work as well as it did here).

[thejennabides.livejournal.com]

I'm very happy you enjoyed the characterizations and the story itself. I tend to write in present tense most of the time because I do like the immediacy it gives you, so it's good to hear it worked for you in this. Thank you! :)

[veleda-k.livejournal.com]

Oh, this was wonderful. There are so many details and nuances. You've captured the characters perfectly, such as the fact that, even sleep deprived, Kyouya naturally had the presence of mind to grab a schedule. And Tamaki...oh Tamaki. He's one of my favorites, and you've written him beautifully.

The friendship bracelet scene was so lovely and touching, and the image of Tamaki making friendship bracelets with grade schoolers is yet another one of the details that make me love this so much.

I love the way you mentioned the other members of the host club. Kyouya and Tamaki don't live in a vacuum, and you showed that well.

I am gushing with praise, and still not saying everything that I want to abut this story. Er...I loved it!

[thejennabides.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much! I adore the two of them, separately but most especially when they are together, and I'm delighted that you liked what I did with them here. I wish I were better at Tamaki's voice (I tend to write him more subdued than he is in canon), so I'm especially happy to have words of praise for his characterization.

the image of Tamaki making friendship bracelets with grade schoolers is yet another one of the details that make me love this so much.

Ah, I'm really happy you mentioned this one! When I was trying to think how to work in hand-holding, I came up with a short list of less conventional ideas. One of the ideas was to have Tamaki give Kyouya something he'd wear around his wrist, but I didn't want it to be impersonal. I can't remember how the idea of friendship bracelets came to me, but I loved the image in my head of Tamaki sitting earnestly amidst a group of small children, learning how to tie string into bracelets, and knew I wanted to work that in. ♥

Thanks very much for all your comments! And sorry for the ramble. *wry grin*

[demoerin.livejournal.com]

Scuse me as I explode in a shower of hearts and sparkles.

You got the feeling of Ouran down pat. Like the bit where Tamakis says "That's just the wrapping!" - why, the rich bastards. And of course the dynamic of Kyouya and Tamaki is also captured, like here: Kyouya pushes his glasses up to hide the smile that forms at the image of Tamaki sitting amidst a group of small children learning how to fold their first paper cranes.

And okay, this entire paragraph: Kyouya does not ask where the third went. He looks at Tamaki again, still holding the bracelet on his open palm. Kyouya picks it up and examines it, looking past the dubious craftsmanship and materials, at the composition; even deeper, at the intention.

And there's also the comforting ease of that impromptu massage that feels so real. The love is plainly there, and real.

HEARTS: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

SPARKLES: ****************************

Seriously.

[thejennabides.livejournal.com]

I'm delighted that you enjoyed it so! And I'm especially happy that you picked out those two moments (Kyouya's amusement at Tamaki making the cranes like that, and especially when Kyouya begins to take the bracelets seriously), because they happen to be two of my own favorite little parts. ♥ Thanks very much!

[ravenbell.livejournal.com]

Excuse me while I sit here and just bask in the glow for a while. I wuv good romance. :)

[thejennabides.livejournal.com]

♥♥! I'm very pleased to give you an occasion for a little basking. :)

[toxictattoo.livejournal.com]

"We're going to take the local trains!" Tamaki had decreed, with an enthusiasm too loud and far too bright for that hour of the morning.

Heheh. I can soooo see that.

as Kyouya finishes the last of his notes, closes the cover of his notebook, clips the pen into place and sits back with momentarily closed eyes,

I love that. It's so...methodical.

And the hand-sex? So hot in its innocence.

Even as Kyouya is saying words uncharacteristically unpremeditated, he knows they are the right ones: "Why don't you wear the other?"

The furrow reappears between wide open eyes. "I made them for you."

"And nothing would please me more," Kyouya says as he takes the other out of the box, and holds it out to Tamaki, "than that you wear the companion one."

[sighs happily] I'm such a sappy romantic. You're a sappy romantic. This is sappy romantic.

[thejennabides.livejournal.com]

I'm such a sappy romantic. You're a sappy romantic. This is sappy romantic.

Hurrah for sappy romance! I would draw little hearts and flowers and sparklies around their names every time, if I knew how. ;p/♥ Really, it sometimes feels that they are having a great romance which they seem to be unaware of themselves, which only makes them more charming.

And the hand-sex? So hot in its innocence.

Thank you! I'm actually relieved to hear this, because I wasn't sure if it was coming across as too much of a step-by-step thing (the "insert tab A into slot B" of hand massage, as it were). I was thinking about perhaps doing a little sequel in which they finally get to Kyoto, and Kyouya returns the favor with a foot massage at the hotel room.

Thank you so much for reading and for your comments! ♥

[asieluniversity.livejournal.com]

Oh, oh Muskrit...

First: cranes = love. I have emotional attachements to paper cranes, and to see them in this setting, especially Tamaki learning how to make them with a bunch of children, well, it makes me very happy.

Second: Kyouya not awake enough to keep Tamaki from the public trains, and then doing a quick study to be ready to answer Tamaki's questions. So much love.

Also, just the way you write the two of them, it's amazing. Sometimes, it's hard for me to see these two in a romatic situation, but you passed with flying colors. I love it, love love love it!

[thejennabides.livejournal.com]

Oh yay, I'm so happy you liked it! The paper cranes were a happy accident: I had been googling for "color meaning in Japan," and mostly getting things that didn't seem reliable. Then I came across one site that spoke specifically of the meaning of colors in paper cranes, and immediately I had a flash of Tamaki sitting amidst little kids, learning how to do basic origami. So I'm delighted you liked that part.

And I'm very pleased the romance worked for you here. I get so thumpy-hearted about the two of them, especially when I rewatch episode 24 ("And Thus Kyouya Met Him"), as I did just before sitting down to write this. ♥♥

Thank you for all your lovely comments! *lil muskrit grin*

[allira-dream.livejournal.com]

I hadn't read this before because I also had a Tamaki/Kyouya fic and I didn't want to get too nervous about posting it after reading yours.

Reading this finally, I am SO GLAD that I waited until I had posted, Muskrit, because, oh, oh, the care of your writing and the feeling renders me speechless and teary eyed and just, oh

He keeps his eyes closed as Tamaki turns his hand over, the pad of Tamaki's finger soothing twists down the grooves between Kyouya's tendons from wrist to knuckle, Tamaki's fingertip slipping off to meet his thumb in a gentle, sliding pinch of the webs of skin between fingers; Kyouya feels a corresponding curl of heat in his belly with each easy tug. made me smile and wibble in a really soft, and tender way and just, oh, Muskrit.

[thejennabides.livejournal.com]

*blushgrins madly* Thank you so much! I want to tell you that you have nothing to be nervous about, ever - but I'm the same way, not wanting to read something with the same pairing or setting or theme as what I'm working on until after I'm done. Eep eep. I think I still have at least a dozen of your stories to read, just because I fell so far behind there...

Anyhow - thank you, thank you! It makes me so happy to hear that phrase, "the care of your writing", because I really do try to take care with the boys and of them. I don't know why they make me feel so tender, but they do. I'm delighted you were touched by this. ♥♥

[love_archived]

Trains. Trains. Trains. You hit my kink. Trains. Oh, TRAINS. *hearts and babbles and LOVES* <3

[thejennabides.livejournal.com]

I kicked around a number of different ideas for this. The other leading contender was sight-seeing in France while looking for Tamaki's mother, and I think that might have been more of a real story. But I liked the image of them on the train so much that I couldn't pass it up in the end. So I'm really pleased you liked this. Thanks for reading and commenting!

[berseker.livejournal.com]

This is so beautiful - every word, every scene, is so touching and sweet that it almost hurts. I´m feeling all warm inside now. Great, great work. ^_^

[thejennabides.livejournal.com]

Thank you very much, I'm delighted you enjoyed it! ♥

[mei-yanohi.livejournal.com]

One of the best Ouran pieces out there, if not the best one I've read - I've read it more than once and it's in my memories. Like another commenter said, every word is beautiful. No one could ask for more. What a precious moment, and what a precious bond. Tamaki will definitely never give him up.

Wonderful job.

[thejennabides.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much for the lovely comments! ♥ And please forgive me for taking so long to reply; it's been several months now and you probably don't even remember leaving this comment. I don't know how I missed it.