"And what's your excuse this time?"

Daichi's father, Yukio, didn't even bother looking up from the papers on his desk. Daichi fidgeted in the chair, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Told you— Have— I have a tutor," the young boy stammered.

Yukio looked up then. "You mean you're failing a class?" He took his reading glasses off, a disapproving look on his wrinkled face. "Why wasn't I informed of this?"

Daichi's friendly butler, Akino, who was standing against the wall, held up a hand. "If I may, Master Yukio. I told you of this news at yesterday's dinner."

Yukio waved him off. "Shut up, Akino," he muttered. He turned back to Daichi with a suppressed fury. "You, disappointing child of mine, must bring up your grades. These sessions better not keep you from any meetings. The company comes first. If it continues for too long, I'm pulling you out of football."

Daichi leaned forward on his seat, eyes wide. "You can't!" he shouted.

Yukio raised one eyebrow. "I'm your boss. I can do whatever I want with you." His voice was low and calculated in a way that said he was barely holding it together. "We have to leave for a meeting in ten minutes. Go get dressed."

Daichi hung his head as he stood. "Y-yes, sir."

While he walked towards the door, Yukio called out again. "And take off the damn collar!"

Daichi didn't respond, the door shutting behind Akino, who followed him out. "I have your suit ready for you in your room," the butler said, walking just a step behind his young charge. They made it to the door of Daichi's room. "Do you require my assistance, Master?"

"Time?" Daichi asked.

"If you're referring to how much time we have left, it's now eight minutes."

Daichi looked down with a sigh, opening the door. "Help."

Th next day, Daichi was ridiculously tired. The night before he had, not only a business meeting, but football practice and a tutoring session with Kyoya. He was at another lesson right now, unable to concentrate on anything Kyoya said. He couldn't even kick around the football.

Kyoya put down the textbook, realizing he was getting nowhere. "Daichi," he said. "You're not acting right. Whatever's bothering you needs to be dealt with. Is it anything I can help with?"

Daichi looked down at his lap. His collar suddenly felt very tight, his throat choking up. "You do— Don't you— Do you— business? Hmph! Do you work for your dad?"

"Do I work for my father's business?" asked Kyoya. Daichi nodded. "Yes, I work with him, not really for him. Is that what this is? You're involved in your father's business?"

"He doesn't— I'm not—." Daichi paused, trying to get his thoughts together. "I work for my dad, not with."

Kyoya put a hand on his chin in thought. "I see. Yukio Akiyama isn't as amiable as his son. He caused problems, then?" Daichi nodded. "Well, if he hasn't done any visible damage to you, I can't act. I'm sorry, but all we can do now is stay on track."

Daichi looked at Kyoya and nodded sadly, wringing his hands in his lap. For the rest of the time, he and Kyoya studied together at a slower pace than normal, but Daichi still didn't seem to stay focused. Kyoya couldn't blame him. Family issues tended to get in the way of important things.

The test on this material was the next day. Daichi felt terrible afterwards. He felt as if he'd forgotten everything. Walking through the halls after class, Daichi wasn't in the mood to talk with anyone. Of course, then, Tamaki found this as the perfect time to approach him.

"Hey, Daichi!" he greeted cheerily. He kept in step with the shorter boy. "Kyoya told me you liked the Host Club. So do you wanna come back?"

Daichi didn't want to tell him no, but the Host Club would just be another thing that delayed business meeetings, which would make his father angrier.

"Sorry, Tamaki," he said. "Another day? I've got football."

"Ah, maybe I'll just come and watch!" Tamaki decided. "That's it! I'll go and get everyone, and we'll all watch your football practice."

A half hour later, Daichi was dressed in the white athletic shorts and blue jersey of the football team. Tamaki, Kyoya, and even Mori and Honey were in the stands, watching the high school team practice. A group of girls was around them, most interested in the hosts. Some were focused on the athletic boys on the field.

As team captain, Daichi had to run the practice. The coach didn't show up for just your everyday practice, especially if they were still learning basics.

With three different drills running at once, Daichi found himself running back and forth and in between and up the middle and to every single player more than once because some just couldn't get the directions right.

Kyoya watched closely. It must have been halfway through the practice. Sweat ran down Daichi's reddened face. He had his hands on his knees, doubled over for a solid minute. Why was no one on the team going towards him?

One of the younger players, a year two student named Vincent, looked over at Daichi. He walked over to his captain, a water bottle in hand. He handed it to Daichi, who straightened himself.

"Hey, captain, drink," he said.

Daichi waved a hand, putting his hands on his head. "Don't need it," he said.

"Hey, I'm your senpai. You can trust me," Vincent said.

Daichi looked at him. "I'm your captain," he replied a little forcefully. "I can make my own decisions."

He walked away from Vincent, ignoring the offered water bottle and getting back into practice.

"Practice match!" he shouted.

The players all lined up to face Daichi except for Vincent. He was the second in command there. He turned to Daichi and smiled. "Shirts versus skins again?" he asked. Daichi nodded. "You heard the captain! Same teams as before! Shirts versus skins!"

Some of the skins grumbled, taking off their shirts. Those were the skinny ones with nothing to show off. The muscular ones didn't care. Daichi, leader of the skins, took his sweaty jersey off and threw it off to the side, getting ready to start the game.

All of the girls on the benches squealed loudly. Even Tamaki might have had a nose bleed. Kyoya had to admit Daichi had a nice body.

It was a bit skinny though. It seemed too skinny to be able to support the amount of exercise Daichi was doing. He watched as Daichi played. Even in a practice game, he didn't hold back. Grass stains would have found their way onto his bare chest had he not sweat them off.

Once practice was finally over (Daichi's team won the match), the host club approached Daichi, who was putting his shirt back on.

Honey had stars in his eyes, an unbreakable grin on his small face. "Wow, Chi-chan, you're really good!" he complimented. "Some of the moves you did looked almost like martial arts."

Tamaki nodded enthusiastically, putting an arm around Daichi. "You know, ladies would love to see those skills more often," he said slyly.

Daichi laughed a little, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "Sorry, Tamaki," he said. "Too busy. Vincent!" he called. The boy looked over. "Time."

Vincent looked at his watch. "Five twenty," he answered. "Better get going home."

Daichi nodded, turning back to the hosts. "Hope you had fun," he said. "But I've got to go. See ya later!"

Kyoya watched Daichi's retreating back until he was out of sight. Partially because he liked watching Daichi, but partially because he was sure the kid would pass out at any moment.