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ellssbellss · 21 days

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I promise it gets better as you go haha :)

pairing- Kyoya Ootori x Reader

In which a rational head hides a generous heart, but you have always known how to see past his walls and help him bloom into the gorgeous rose he is.

Enjoy a slow burn between an honor student and our beloved glasses character!

-> word count: 4.8k

-> summary: Kyoya gives you a once over. You’re going to be the death of him.

see masterlist! : masterlist

Starting Today, You are a Host! pt. 1

A (h/c) haired girl walks quickly through the halls of Ouran Academy. You check the time, and your uniform sways with your movements as you increase your pace down the pristine halls of your high school.

Not unusually, you were late.

You had characteristically overslept this morning, earning you an urgent call from one of your best friends, Kyoya Ootori. Kyoya was also not a morning person, but on school mornings he had a set routine, and making sure you woke up on time to get to school had begrudgingly become a part of it. Because you were both a part of the same club, Kyoya had to make sure you would show up on time. If a member was late, the entire operation was unbalanced until they started their shift. Also, Kyoya had a short patience for lateness.

You were particularly grateful for his call this morning. As nice as it was to hear the voice of someone so special to you, you had completely forgotten your arrangement with Chairman Suoh, which required you to be at school earlier than normal.

You had rushed around your room, respectfully declining the maids and butlers attempting to assist you with your daily routine, knowing that it would be done faster if you did it yourself. You threw your hair together, then your makeup. It was minimal, but considering you usually didn’t put much on anyway, it was easy and quick for you to finish. Kyoya’s voice could still be heard in the background of your bathroom, where you had left him on speaker.

“I cannot believe you forgot (Y/n). Especially after Suoh-sensei sought you out himself.” You could practically feel the smirk after a disapproving sigh escaped him.

“Not helping.” You said as you reached for your bag and rushed out of the bedroom, only to return quickly to get your phone.

“I am very helpful. Without me, you definitely would’ve slept through every alarm you set.”

“Uh huh, I owe my life to you Kyo, thank you.” Rolling your eyes, you got in your car, needing to say goodbye so that you can drive.

Kyoya felt the eye-roll and heard the door to your car shut, signaling your need to leave.

“A favor will do just fine.” You cursed him in the back of your mind. That’s what I get for being friends with the Shadow King. Kyoya’s voice came back through the phone, “I assume you need to go?”

“Yes,” you sighed, setting your bag down into the passenger seat of your (d/c), “I have to drive away now if I’m ever going to have a chance at being on time. Thank you for looking out for me and waking me up, Kyo. It means a lot.”

On the other end, Kyoya fixed his glasses. “Of course, (Y/n), drive safe. Goodbye.”

“I will, see ya.” You hung up the phone and sped down the interstate.

Now, as you glance at the clock once more down the hallway, you’re nearly jogging when you stop to find a brown-haired student sitting outside of the Chairman’s office. When they look up, an imaginary light bulb sparks on when you see the eyes of the person you’ve been looking for.

“Are you Fujioka-san?” You ask, recognizing her from her profile the Chairman showed you, although her hair looks shorter than it did on the photo.

“Yes, I am! Are you (L/n)-senpai?” She stands up from her chair, adjusting the bag on her shoulder.

“Yes! You can call me (Y/n), Fujioka-san, no need for honorifics. I’m from (C/n) so it’s still rather unfamiliar when people call me that.” You sheepishly laugh, a light blush on your face.

“Oh, wow! Your Japanese is really good, (Y/n). In that case, you can call me Haruhi.” She sticks out her hand for you to shake. “Isn’t this how most (n) people greet each other?”

You reach out and take it, smiling at the inclusion of your culture. “That’s perfect!” You let go of the handshake, turning to walk down the hallway.

“Thank you for showing me around the school, (Y/n). It’s so big here, it is completely different from the high school my old friends are attending. It’s such a relief to have a tour by a fellow honor student.”

You giggle at her as she nearly trips over her own feet from being distracted by the large chandeliers that hang above you. “Haha, yes, well that was the Chairman’s exact thought process when he asked me to lead you to your first class. Just to ensure that you would be comfortable! If you have any questions, you can definitely let me know.”

“Um, well there was this one question I was thinking about…”

“Sure thing! What is it?”

“I was just wondering how you were able to apply as an honor student to Ouran Academy? Aren’t you the heir to (L/n) Tech?”

You chuckled again, smiling at her. “I can see how that could be confusing.” You take a moment to collect your story, even though you’ve had to explain yourself many times before.

“I am the heir to my mother’s company, yes. But when my father told me that we were moving to Japan in order to expand our market, he reminded me that people may not respect me because of where I came from, in school, work, or otherwise.” Haruhi frowned at this. “I wanted to enter this new chapter in my life with a new confidence and a strong reputation. I knew that I was smarter than most– I’m sure you know what that’s like– and decided that if I was going to go to one of the best high schools in the academic world, I was going to earn it.”

“Did it work?” Haruhi asked, seemingly impressed with your determination. She noticed how beautiful you were when you talked passionately. Surely, I’m not the first to notice, Haruhi thought.

“For the most part, yeah!” You looked ahead, reminding yourself how proud you are to be where you are today, “People saw that I wasn’t just another rich person going to school to have a good time and live off of Mommy’s money. I was here to become successful and happy with the life that I was able to build myself. And, also, to have a good time.”

The two of you laugh together, after rounding a corner. Since you were able to share your story, you asked Haruhi about her own life. You were sad to hear that her mother died 10 years ago, but touched to hear that she wanted to become a lawyer just like her. You gasped at the comparisons she made between her old middle school and here, because even if you were independent, you were still a higher-class citizen, and thankfully never experienced the middle-school bathroom horrors she was retelling. You walked her down the hall to her first class, satisfied with your job of making her comfortable on her first day here.

“Thank you so much for showing me around, (Y/n)-senp-, uh, I mean, (Y/n).” Haruhi smiled at you again to show her gratitude.

“Of course! Here is my number if you ever need anything else. Sorry I have to leave you here so early before class starts because of my club, but maybe we could meet up for lunch? If you’re not already too popular by then.” You joke as you hand her one of your business cards your mom had made. You then wave at her and turn to leave, hurriedly preparing yourself to face the wrath of your friends for being late as you make your way to a certain music room.

:::

Haruhi was beginning to get frustrated as she looked at her watch, only having a certain amount of time to find a study room that was quiet enough to finish her Japanese literature essay. It had been a couple weeks since her first day, but she was still not at all familiar with the layout of this school. You had walked her everyday to her classes for the first week, but you had told that everywhere outside of your usual class schedule was an adventure in itself, and she would help you find them another time. Haruhi knew she didn’t wanna bother you during club hours, so she settled on trying to find a room herself.

She walked towards the last music room she would be searching for, because if this place was busy too, she would just give up and finish the essay at home, which made her even more stressed considering the work she had to get done.

Haruhi opened the doors, and was immediately swarmed with rose petals, confusing her on how the defied the laws of physics.

“Welcome!”

Willing her eyes to get used to the blinding light that emitted from the room, she took a step inside to see seven figures grouped in the center. Two ravenettes stood to the left, one with his back turned and the other with a black notebook in his hand. Two gingered twins stood to the right, hanging on one another with a mischievous smile on their faces that unsettled Haruhi to her core. A smaller blonde stood in front of them, with big gleaming brown eyes and a pink stuffed rabbit hanging from one of his arms. Then sitting in the center was a prince-like blonde, who was already looking at her in surprise. She was the one to gape when she saw you, standing even more to the left, near the one with the glasses.

“Haruhi?” You asked, but just as you took a step forward, the twins sauntered up to Haruhi before you got the chance. Oh god.

“Oh wow, its a boy!”

“Huh? No, act-” As you were about to correct them, Kyoya put a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

“What?” You said turning to him.

“Don’t say anything. I want to see how this plays out.”

You deadpan, “You’re kidding me.”

“Oh (Y/n), I’ve never been one for humor.”

Poor Haruhi, you think, but keep your mouth shut, secretly wondering the outcome as well.

“Hikaru. Kaoru. I believe this man is in the same class as you?” Kyoya turns back to your friends, pushing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah but he doesn’t talk much-” Hikaru started.

“- we don’t really know much about him.” Kaoru finished.

“Well, that wasn't very polite. Welcome to the Ouran Host Club, Mr. Honor Student.” Kyoya says, taking a step forward and writing something down in his notebook.

Tamaki takes another step forward, but seemingly something clicks in his head. “What? You must be Haruhi Fujioka! You're the exceptional honor student we've heard about.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say this whole time.” You mutter under your breath, Kyoya smirking next to you.

“How did you know my name?” Haruhi asks, nervously taking a step back, clearly wanting to leave.

“You’re famous, Haruhi!” You say, finally speaking loud enough to where the others can hear you, “It’s not everyday a commoner like you gets into a school like this. You've shown the world that even a poor person can excel at an elite private academy.”

“It must be hard for you to constantly be looked down upon by others.” Tamaki pouts.

Haruhi frowns. “I think you're taking this poor thing too far.”

Tamaki rushes to Haruhi’s side, taking her hand, dramatic sympathy in his eyes. “Spurned! Neglected! But that doesn't matter now. We welcome you, poor man, to our world of beauty!”

Haruhi has become even more bewildered than when she walked in, trying to exit with a respectful, “I’m outta here.”

Just as she is trying to leave, the small blonde boy rushes over to her, stopping her slightly in front of a vase that you had always admired. He grabs her hand, and looks up at her with a beaming smile that melts the coldest of hearts.

“Hey! Come back here, Haru-chan! You must be like a superhero or something. That's so cool!” Honey-senpai smiles at her even more, dazzling at his new found discovery.

“I'm not a hero, I'm an honor student. And who are you calling Haru-chan?!”

Tamaki puts a finger to his chin, “I never would have imagined the famous scholar would be so openly gay.”

You put your head in your hands, “Oh my god.”

Tamaki strides over to Harhui, earning more sympathy from you as she backs up even more. He doesn’t give her personal space still, of course, and grabs her hand again, turning on his charm, “So tell me what kind of guys you're into. Do you like the strong silent type?” Tamaki gestures to Mori, who gives a slight nod. “The boy lolita?” Honey-senpai beams up at her once more. “How about the mischievous type?” Hikaru and Kaoru are still analyzing her with their eyes, and they give lazy salutes. “Or the cool type?” Kyoya gives her a flash of his glasses and a signature smirk.

Haruhi’s face contorts into a more horrified expression when she realizes that they are suggesting that she sought them out to flirt.

“I uh... I-It's not like that! I was just looking for a quiet place to study.” She backs up even more, not noticing the vase behind her.

Your eyes widen, “Wait, Tamaki-”.

Tamaki continues to walk towards her, charm seeping through him as roses seem to circle him, “Or maybe you're into a guy like me.” He poses, another step forward, “What do you say?”

A flustered Haruhi stutters and takes another hasty step back, knocking your favorite vase off its mount. Haruhi turns quickly and watches it begin to fall, hastily reaching out for it in desperation. Her hand nearly grazes the handle, but it slips through her fingers and falls to the floor.

Crash!

You and Haruhi both stare at the vase in mortified terror. You look over at Kyoya, who has lost the smirk and now sighs displeasingly at the words he writes into his notebook. You frown too, knowing how this is going to end.

The twins step forward to look down onto the broken porcelain, already knowing how to create another hell.

Kaoru tsks, shaking his head, “Oh, now you've done it, commoner. The bidding on that vase was supposed to start at eight million yen.”

Haruhi chokes on air, ”What, eight million yen? How many thousand yen is that? How many thousands are in eight million? I'm gonna have to pay you back.” She starts to count on as many fingers and toes as she can. The twins begin teasing her on how she couldn’t even afford a uniform, let alone 8 million yen.

You take pity on her, and in her trance, you lead her away from the broken glass in order to start cleaning it up. You were able to join the host club as an errand girl, cleaning and cooking and serving for the boys when they needed you. At the beginning, you had entered the Music Room looking for the host club because you needed an extracurricular that wasn’t a performing arts, since you had enough of those credits already. Plus, it put you in good standing with the chairman’s son and the third son of the Ootori’s, a family your mother deals with often, considering her development of medical technologies.

Kyoya later admitted to letting you join because you intrigued him with your ambition to prove yourself, something he could relate to in his own way. You didn’t know that you had also caught his attention in other forms as well. To be fair, he didn’t either.

You knelt down on your knees to begin picking up the largest pieces of glass, not bothering yourself with a broom due to the fact that it was in the closet across the room span, and you didn’t want anyone falling and cutting themselves immediately, considering how dense and clumsy the entire club was.

Kyoya turns to look at you, ignoring the chaos caused by the first year trio, now fully focused on the broken pieces in your delicate palm.

“(Y/n), we have a broom in the closet just over there, why are you picking those up with your bare hands? You’re going to cut yourself. Someone else can pick those up.” Kyoya walks over to you and stops in front of you.

You look up at him, smirking at his concern. “I just don’t want anyone to fall on these big pieces, so I’m picking them up right away. This is what you hired me to do Kyoya, I’ll get the broom in a minute.” You carefully place another big piece of porcelain, balancing it on top of the small pile in your hand, when you feel a shadow over you.

Mori has retrieved the broom for you, and holds it out for you to grab.

“Oh wow, thank you Mori-senpai!” You look away from your hand for a moment and shift your balance to reach out and grab the broom, scooching your knees forward slightly to get closer to Mori’s grip. As you move your knee, it glides over one of the pieces of glass, cutting into your skin.

“Ow!” You flinch, accidentally putting more weight on it, pressing the vase even further into your knee. Mori’s eyes widen and he goes to help you, but Kyoya is already beside you, grabbing onto your unoccupied hand and hoisting you up, pulling you close to him. The movement causes you to drop the pieces of vase you picked up previously, making them shatter into smaller shards.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” Kyoya turns you around to face him to find a blush on your cheeks and small tears forming from the initial pain.

“It’s my knee, I-ow.” You laugh wetly in disbelief at how quickly karma came to bite you in the ass, and you look down to see a trail of blood making its way down your calf. Kyoya follows your eye-line and tightens the muscles in his jaw. He grasps your hand again and leads you to the front door with the intention of finding a bathroom. The trio comes back into earshot as you pass.

“So boss, what should we do?” The twins ask, as Haruhi still freaks out.

Tamaki flourishes, a smug look imprinted on his face, “ There's a famous saying you may have heard, Fujioka. When in Rome, you should do as the Romans do. Since you have no money, you can pay with your body. That means, starting today, you're the host club's dog.”

You stall, whipping your head to Tamaki, causing Kyoya to pause as well.

“Tamaki, Haruhi can’t be the errand gi-boy, that’s my job.” You look at him with confusion in your eyes.

Tamaki turns to face you and sees the blood dripping down your knee. He rushes over to you

“(Y/N)! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU WHY ARE YOU HURT?! MON AMIII HOW COULD YOU?”

“It doesn’t matter,” You brush him off, feeling another tug from Kyoya, but you don’t budge, “you can’t just go giving my position away like that, Tamaki, what am I supposed to do now?”

Tamaki puts his chin back to his face, thinking as hard as he can. The twins look over to him, worried that he might sprain his brain.

After sometime, Tamaki shoots up, an accomplished look on his face.

“(Y/n) could become a host!”

The Music Room is quiet at first, but suddenly the hosts start crowding around you, minding your knee, and flood you with encouragement. A blush forms across your face at the thought of entertaining guests. Sure, it is definitely something you have wanted to try out, and you think that you could be good at it. You could be the “Sweet” type, or the “Beautiful” type, and you could definitely bring in more business, considering boys is a whole other audience to cater towards, and-

“Absolutely not.” Kyoya states, trying to pull you out once again to tend to your injury.

“What?” The hosts exclaim as you turn to look at your friend in disbelief.

“But Kyo-chan, (N/n)-chan is so cute! She would do such a great job!” Honey said, using his puppy dog eyes on the Shadow King.

“We can’t have two errand people-” Kaoru started.

“-but we can’t fire (Y/n) either.” Hikaru joined.

“I’ll think of some other way, no one is getting fired and debts will be paid. Right now, (Y/n) is bleeding and needs to be taken care of. She doesn’t need to be worried about entertaining crowds of men when she is the one that needs to be attended too. Excuse us, please.” Kyoya glares at the other hosts as they quickly make room, the aspect of a new opportunity for you making them space on the fact that you cut yourself just minutes ago.

You and Kyoya exit the music room, Kyoya still holding your hand as he leads you into the women’s bathroom. During your walk you try to study his back, searching for any expression, but it’s hard to do so without seeing his eyes. Kyoya always prides himself on the mask he puts on for his guests, and he is confident that his emotions are well hidden. They are, but anyone who is as close to him as you are fail to tell him that his eyes give him away at a moment's glance.

He walks into the women’s bathroom with you despite your protests, telling you sharply that the guests and students made their way back home, as it is after-school hours.

He leads you to the counter of the sink and asks you to jump up on it. You do so, and now you are facing him, trying to scan his face for any sign. Kyoya reaches into his coat pocket and takes out a mini first aid kit, something you knew he always carried around.

“For emergencies.” He said, holding it up and gesturing to your knee.

He opens the kit and finds the mini bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a small patch of gauze.

“Uh, Kyoya, is that really necessary?” You sweatdrop, not wanting to suffer anymore today.

“Yes, (Y/n), this is necessary so you don’t get an infection. Or would you like me to remind you that you cut yourself on broken pottery that sat in dust from the floor?” His tone was sharper than the tone he usually used with you. He was mad.

“Look Kyoya, I’m sorry about this, I know it’s inconvenient to take you out of club duties and everything.” Kyoya met his eyes with yours and then back to the task at hand, but in that flash you saw something akin to annoyance.

“It’s not inconvenient to take care of you, (Y/n), it’s inconvenient when you go against your better judgment to use a broom. I know you’re smarter than that.” He puts the liquid on the gauze. One of his hands holds the back of your calf, and after cleaning the blood that ran down your leg, making your cheeks a slight pink from the touch and the compliment he just gave you, he hovers it over your cut, moving the unoccupied hand to a respectful place on your outer thigh.

“It’s going to sting.” Kyoya said, prompting you to give him an oh really? I never would have guessed look.

“On three?” He asks, meeting your eyes again. This time the annoyance has mixed with concern.

“On three.” You say, moving a hand over his on your leg, preparing for the feeling.

Kyoya nods and counts. “One…” and on two there is a cold, sizzling, stinging feeling on your knee, making you gasp and tighten your grip on his hand. Kyoya shifts his hand to hold yours as he presses the gauze into your cut.

“You son of a bitch”, you say, trying to crack a smile through the discomfort. Kyoya watches you with a smirk of his own, and while the concern is still there, you find the annoyance has disappeared. He lifts the gauze much to your enjoyment, and goes to rummage through the med kit to find ointment and a band-aid, letting go of your hand.

“So what do you really think of me being a host?” You say, trying to gauge his reaction once more.

Kyoya gives you a side eye, his mouth drooping into something disapproving. You find yourself missing the smirk. “It’s unnecessary”, he says and he moves towards you again to put an antioxidant ointment on your cut, “Tamaki doesn’t know the numbers like I do, so he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“So, what, you’re going to be paying the salary for two errand people? A salary that I know we don’t have the budget for?” You ask, reaching over to grab the bandaid from the box and putting it on yourself so you feel like your helping.

“No, obviously not, that wouldn’t work.” Kyoya walks to the entrance of the bathroom with you, turning and waiting for you to adjust your skirt.

“Then I have to quit?” You say, walking up behind him, “I really like this club Kyoya, I-”

He turns around, and puts a hand on your shoulder, you two suddenly being very close, “You do not have to quit either, (Y/n), that’s never going to be a part of the solution. We all want you to stay.” He looks at you for a long enough moment to notice another shade of gray in his eye, then ducks his head and pulls out his book, opening it to a page and studying it, putting some space between you.

You blink and put on a soft smile, “Then just hear me out.”

Kyoya raises an eyebrow and looks at you, giving you his attention.

“If I were to be a host, I would be marketing towards a whole other demographic of students. Around 57% of the student population at Ouran Academy is male. Not saying that we have never had male guests, as we always support the LGBTQ+ community, but even they are a small recorded percentage. That’s nearly half of a market that we aren’t utilizing to our advantage. Think of the money that could go towards the host club, and the kind of budget you would have in order to grow this place,” you take another step towards him, “and I think that I could be really good at it. At the tea party tomorrow, just let me go for a trial run. If I fail, I fail, but if I succeed, then you need to seriously consider me as a permanent host. Deal?”

Kyoya gives you a once over. You’re going to be the death of him.

It has always been obvious to him that you wish that you were a host. You love being around them and helping the club in anyway that you can, and you always felt that being a host was the most influential position, meaning you could help the most. And he knows that you would be good at it. Damn good at it. You’re beautiful, kind, smart, talented, and incredibly out of their league, which would only make them want you more. You would have an audience of guests in no time, bringing in publicity and money that would almost rival Tamaki.

But Kyoya for some reason has always clenched his teeth at the thought of the boys that would get to surround you, have you flirt with them and whisper sweet nothings into their ears. They would buy you gifts and sweets, while you flashed them your signature smile. You wouldn’t be able to sit with him anymore due to your busy scheduling of clients. The image gives him a pit in his stomach.

He studies your face and realizes that for him to deny you with absolutely no reason other than a selfish one would be against something you stood for, and he was smart enough to know to always stand behind something you were passionate towards. You had even studied the stable numbers, something you knew he was appreciative of.

Kyoya sighs, “Okay. One session. We will advertise you as a new limited time host, and we will see how it goes from there. But you must teach Haruhi what you can so that he-she doesn’t do the wrong thing.” He looks down at your knee. “I suppose though, it doesn't matter how much training she gets.”

He looked back up to your face to see a shocked look. He waits for your reply, knitting his brows together.

“Did you hear what-oof!” Kyoya was cut off as you hugged him, thanking him repeatedly, clearly excited. He chuckles and wraps his arms around you for a moment before pulling back.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”, you exclaimed, pumping your fists in victory, and dancing with excitement while Kyoya looks at you with feigned annoyance.

“Please stop that, you’re embarrassing me.”

“Mmmmm…no.” You laugh, and continue celebrating.

#kyoya ootori x reader #kyoya x reader #lavender roses #ouran high school host club #ohshc fanfic #ouran fanfic #ouran kyoya #romance #ouran host club #thanks for reading #slow burn #romantic #ohshc mori #ohshc honey #ohshc haruhi #ohshc hikaru #ouran

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ellssbellss · 26 days

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When i saw that you updated lavender roses, i squealed so loud and i was so happy that my legs were kicking like i just talked to my crush, i just want to say both parts of the lobelia chapter were SOOO AMAZING, I CRIED I SCREAMED AND IM CURRENTLY GRINNING WITH EXCITEMENT for the next part!! I’m a little sad they haven’t resolved their issues yet but honestly i kinda like it that way too? Idk how to explain it but it fits the reader’s and kyoya’s character really well, i cannot wait to find out how their relationship will grow! (Please let them have a happy ending) And i love all of the club members! And how supportive they are! My heart is hurting but it is also so full of love and appreciation! All of the wait was SO SO SO WORTH IT!! So please take as much time as you need in writing the next one! Thank you so much for making my night! I hope you’re doing alright wherever you are! Take care always! <33

this is such a great reaction to see! I'm so so glad you liked it and that you were so invested!!

it makes my heart full to hear what you all thought :) lmk what you all think!!

#kyoya ootori x reader #kyoya x reader #lavender roses #ouran high school host club #ouran fanfic #ask #answered #comment or send in an ask!

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ellssbellss · 26 days

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new update!

make sure to comment your favorite quote from the story if you like it :)

love you all

#kyoya ootori x reader #kyoya x reader #lavender roses #ouran high school host club #ouran fanfic #thanks for reading #love #romantic #romance

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ellssbellss · 27 days

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(NEW! pt.2) Lavender Roses ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

pairing ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

In which a rational head hides a generous heart, but you have always known how to see past his walls and help him bloom into the gorgeous rose he is. Enjoy a slow burn between an honor student and our beloved glasses character!

here is part two!

see masterlist! masterlist

taglist! @abbysblogsstuff @sunukissed @kisskissshutmydoor @idonia-dovahkiin @greensnakegoblep @vervainnnn @desert-fern @delievia @obeythemasters @luca-nightshade @sweetandsourwrites @wrzloyd @1234567890nono @inactivecrofters @katiebwalczak03 @reader3 @radical-bunny @stevexbucky404 @localgaytrainwreck @jade-digital @eleventhdoctorsangel @ozdramaqueen @httpzace @wrzloyd @localgaytrainwreck @kawaii-onikuma113 @httpswilloww @pest-ill-ence @akumakitsune21 @britty-yk @daniels2003 @jade-digital @eleventhdoctorsangel @ozdramaqueen @sadpotatoondrugs @name1nonexistent2 @jstanaxx @yikesarooni

A Challenge from Lobelia Girl's Academy!

The collar of your white button down carved into the skin of your neck, only cutting deeper each time you swallowed. The (s/c) of your suit set seemed like a good idea this morning, but now it blared at you from your peripheral, a warning of possible danger ahead.

Room A326 was a bland one, only consisting of a podium, a projector, and your teacher perched neatly on a chair in the back. In the middle of the room, a long table sits three of your high school's most influential people, one of them being Chairman Suoh. The man’s blonde lashes flickered over you and Kyoya as each of you ran through your practiced dialogue, the presentation not suffering at all from your time apart.

It was almost eerie, in fact, how easily the both of you fell into the groove of working together again, as if it was second nature.

But the thing that made your nerves stand on end wasn’t the investors watching your every single move. It wasn’t the fact that you and Kyoya had barely gotten together maybe an hour or so before one of the biggest presentations of your life. And it wasn’t that that hadn’t gone very well.

It was the fact that if you were shaken by just how natural this whole thing felt, working so fluidly together without so much as a word to each other in days, Kyoya was knocked off his feet.

People who hadn’t known him for years wouldn’t have caught the tick in his jaw, or the long looks behind his frames when it was your turn to present a slide. He gripped his index cards a little too tightly, and his tie rose too high up on his neck, the material crinkling the fabric of his shirt.

It appeared that you weren’t the only one about to burst at the seams because of how unfair it was. That the both of you had finally found someone that understood you both inside and out, made you feel comfortable in your own skin, supported you, brought you back to earth, and shared your ambitions and secrets. All for one petty, rotten, evil argument to bring it down like a gust of wind on a tower of cards.

As you fixed the lapel on your blazer, you caught eyes with him again while he spoke. His gray irises quickly flitted to look somewhere else as he swallowed thickly, and you huffed through your nose.

Rolling your eyes internally, you turn back to the projector, smiling for the investors while a million thoughts ran through your head.

Why was he acting like this? He was the one that broke your heart, and he was too stubborn to apologize for it. He had only spoken to you when absolutely necessary, and ignored you after one of the most traumatic events of your life. You knew that that day on the cliff had been a shock to everyone, but everyone else had gotten over themselves.

You knew he had an ego bigger than Mount Fuji, but you had hoped you meant more to him than his reputation.

Such a stupid thing, hope.

“And that’s why this product should be dispersed globally.” You hear yourself saying, walking in a synchronized motion to the front of the podium alongside Kyoya. “It could change the lives of millions globally, and redefine what we label technology today.”

“Thank you for your time.” Kyoya’s voice resonates in the beige room, and as you both bow deeply, your presentation ends with a period written in black ink.

Applause scatters throughout the room, but you swallow. The presentation was easy, planned. The hard part is what follows, answering questions.

“Nicely done.” One of the investors says, a woman with streaks of gray in her black hair. “Your charts were extremely easy to digest, and very well organized.”

“Agreed.” The investor to Chairman Suoh’s left nods, fixing the glasses on top of his nose. “And your idea to use rising social media as a way to advertise your product is smart. Effective.” His voice is grumbling, barely audible behind his dangling jowls.

You hitch your breath as Suoh hums, fixing his hands into a pyramid on the table, like a god about to give judgment. “The two of you have created something that could truly sell itself, and maybe become a staple in a household’s everyday life. It really could change the market for products like this.”

Kyoya’s lips stretch into his business smile. No dimples, no teeth, just kind, practiced eyes. “Thank you, Sensei, that means a great deal coming from –”

“...in theory.”

The smile drops.

“Sir?” You ask, trying to drag your heart out of your stomach.

Both of you turn to look at the Chairman as he reaches for his reading glasses, perching them on his face before glancing back down to his notes. “Isn’t that what this all is? Theory?”

“Absolutely not, Sensei.” Kyoya says, briskly walking back to his computer and bringing up the slides of the detailed plan he made to put this idea into production. “As stated previously, it would all start with the investments from–”

“Oh, please.” The Chairman dismisses Kyoya with a wave of his hand, almost laughing. “I admire the to-do list you have here, son, but it takes more than a checklist to get things off the ground. It takes research. It takes money.”

“The research is in production as we speak, sir.” You say, joining Kyoya at the computer to access your resources that you cited at the end of your slides. “While it is in the newer stages, the results have been consistent, even leading to brand new–”

“How many patented technologies have been made with this research?”

You swallow, the blue light from your screen being projected into your irises as you look up your friend’s father. “None, sir. This would be the first.”

“So it’s a risk.”

“It is.” Kyoya confirmed next to you, his lengthy form crossing to the side of the podium. “But what is reward without the risk?”

“A guaranteed one, Ootori.” Suoh clips, and he rests his reading glasses on the table.

“It might take some trials, Chairman Suoh, but you said it yourself.” You say, taking center stage. This could help millions, possibly even billions of people across the globe.”

“And how expensive is one of those trials?” He asks, his ego spilling from his chair.

You swallow, and Kyoya meets your gaze before answering in a cold tone. “Seventy-five billion yen, Sensei. As stated.”

“I know. I just wanted to hear you say it again.” The billionaire chuckles, along with the two other investors as they shake their heads, as if that amount of money could even put a dent in their personal checking accounts, let alone their savings.

Then, his face falls gently, and Suoh’s violet eyes pierce into yours, but they don’t hold the same warmth that Tamaki’s do. Just the judgment. Just the cold.

“(L/n)-san. Would you spend seventy-five billion yen on a risk?”

The collar of your shirt suddenly isn’t a smooth blade. It’s a jagged knife, tearing your skin and cutting through your windpipe as you force yourself to think. How could you be so smart and not be able to defend this project that you had poured your blood sweat and tears into?

Can you even recover from this? From the doubt that is clearly in the scowls of the investors in front of you, the disappointed frown from your teacher in the back. How could you show your face to Tamaki again, after his father had humiliated you so thoroughly? And Kyoya, god knows Kyoya is raging inside his ice-cold demeanor.

If there was ever a chance that your relationship would go back to the way it was, it was drowning in whatever vengeful emotion the Shadow King was feeling. You’re sure you’d make it back to the club room tonight and see your uniform folded neatly on a table, a note written in perfect cursive telling you, curtly, to get the hell out of his sight.

“Respectfully, Sensei. If I may.” Kyoya’s voice rings amongst your spiraling, and you’re pulled back into reality as he places a hand on your shoulder. You even feel him give you a gentle squeeze, causing you to let out the breath you have been holding.

“We can agree that seventy-five billion yen does sound like a large sum. And, yes, it is risky to bet on a product that is based on theory and predictions, therefore leaving the end result undetermined.”

Kyoya paused, and you watched as Suoh’s smirk just grew larger, nearly showing his canines in the process. “But hasn’t that been the start of all revolutionary businesses around the world? We all know that Apple Inc. started in a garage, but did you know the same was true for Amazon? Google?”

Kyoya’s back was turned to you as he began to speak to these investors like equals, his potential lighting up the room like an upcoming star.

“The same can be said for Blockbuster.” The woman said, tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear. “Or MySpace. Blackberry.”

“All startups that ultimately failed in the long run.” The man added on, a permanent frown on his face as he analyzed the straight-A student in front of him.

“Because they couldn’t adapt.” Kyoya emphasized. “Our product is not only revolutionary, it’s evolutionary, and will change with the ages.”

“It may be a large investment, but it’s a worthy one.” You speak up, feeling supported under the confidence of the Ootori son’s words.

“I believe in this product. I believe in us as spearheads for this technology. This project will not fail with the two of us overseeing the development.” You say, gesturing between yourself and the suited host next to you.

“You two do work well together…” Suoh surmised, his cocky grin twisted into a slight frown.

You swallow the emotion you feel, playing the angle that you know will get the best response. “In the years I have come to know Kyoya, he has never once gave up on something he believes in. He is always going after what he wants with the finesse and ambition that anyone would want to have on their team.”

Kyoya brings his fist up to his throat, clearing it before fixing his lenses. “And I could say the same for (Y/n). Her creative intelligence and determination in her work is unmatched, making her not only an asset to this product, but also to Ouran as a whole.”

You look at him then, catching the way the veins in his jaw pulsed under the stress. His posture was straight, hands clasped in front of him maybe a little too tightly as he finished his praise.

He’s practically shaking, breaking his own pride to admit that he needs you. Believes in you, just as he always had. And that breaks something in you as well.

“Fine then, you two can talk to the investor panel at the end of this year.” Suoh grunts, earning the slow nods of the other two judges.

You whip your head around and smile brightly, taking a deep breath to thank him before he holds up a finger.

“However, there will be conditions. Find solid research that dilutes the risk of getting it produced.” He stands, the rest of them following suit as they begin to pack their things.

“Yes sir.” You say, vowing to do whatever you can to get your idea off the ground.

“And find a way to lessen the price. No matter how much you believe in something, it doesn’t change the price tag.”

“Of course.” Kyoya acquiesces.

Sighing with his briefcase in hand, Suoh is the last one out the door, on his way back to his office for the rest of the school day. He looks back at the two of you with his mouth in a straight line, but you can see a little bit of pride in his violet eyes.

“Congratulations, you two. We will be in touch.”

With that, he closed the door behind him, leaving both you and Kyoya with bewildered stares as his disappearing form.

“So…” You start, creasing your brows. “That went well. Right?”

The megane’s eyes shot to yours, before shaking his head once. “Not even close.”

“I mean, maybe it started out rocky, but we got the deal!”

“Barely.” Kyoya cuts your excitement in half. “We barely were able to pass through to the investor panel because our project was flawed.”

“It couldn’t have been perfect the first try.”

“It would’ve been better if you had answered the question decently, instead of standing there frozen.”

You stand there, shocked. “If I had answered honestly, the panel would’ve been discouraged against production. I was trying to find a way to-”

“Saying anything at all would’ve been better than letting the Chairman’s question hang in the air.”

Scoffing, you turn your back to him, shoving your laptop back into its case. “Well, everything turned out okay. You saved it with the connections to some of the biggest companies in the world, you should be proud.” Distaste leaked from your tone.

You hear the click of his briefcase echo as he packs his things, the lifeless room surrounding you. “I can’t save you everytime.”

Your hands pause, hovering over the zipper of your purse. The room is silent then, only the ruffling of clothes and the pounding of your heart making any noise. Your mouth is dry as you close your eyes, willing the rage and sadness that you feel to go away, just go away as a dark voice plays in your mind.

Stop it. Stop it, (Y/n). Don’t do this to me.

A briefcase clicks shut right as your zipper closes your purse, and you curse whoever made you and Kyoya forever in sync.

“Is that what this is about?” The tension strains your vocal chords as you ask, but you don’t turn to face him.

He isn’t looking at you either when he swallows. “It’s complicated.”

Nodding, you pull your purse onto your shoulder, and Kyoya barely has time to react before you’re furiously brushing past him.

“Let me make it less complicated for you, then. Since everything else is.” Your voice is cold as you push open the exit, still avoiding eye-contact. “You won’t have to save me anymore.”

Your shoes clack as you fly out the door.

Kyoya heaved off his glasses slowly, rubbing his eyes and the indentions that his frames had made on his nose.

“Christ, Ootori.” He mumbled to himself, running his hand down his face.

Why couldn’t he let you go?

Multiple people had made him angry to the point that he had cut off all contact with him, but it had never left him feeling so empty, so desperate for what was lost.

The director justified that it was because you were everywhere. He couldn’t get over your relationship because he saw you everytime he stepped into school, into the club he built. You were in his classes, his extracurriculars, your contact was pinned to the top of his messaging app (purely for easier access, of course). Your name was even signed on the same documents he had to fill out for his father because of the damned partnership between your two families.

He just couldn’t get rid of you. Physically or mentally.

Not only were you an active presence on campus grounds, but in the late hours of the night he saw your face smiling down at him in the sunlight, your laugh rang in his ears when he made a sarcastic comment.

He saw you disappear over a cliff’s edge.

His heart spiked and he threw on his glasses once more, sharply exiting the presentation room. He willed himself not to dwell on how things used to be, just what they were now. You had been reckless, so reckless that you could’ve been seriously injured. The pain he would’ve felt if somehow you hadn’t come back from that, or if your injuries were greater…it scared him.

All that feeling, the attachment, the wanting. It terrified him.

“No, Mom, I just–I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Your voice trailed along the empty hallways of the business building. School was still in session, but it was between periods. Everyone was in their classes.

Kyoya froze and expected you to be around the corner, fully prepared to turn the other way. But when you weren’t there, he listened again.

“I don’t think I want to stay here.” Dark eyebrows furrowed as he followed the echo to the women’s bathroom. Hearing you stutter and interrupt your mother made him lean against the wall outside the door.

“No, I know Ouran's the best, I know. And I really like it here. It’s just…” He heard you take in a breath while he held his own. “It’s getting too difficult. Were you able to send over the blank transfer application? To Lobelia?”

Kyoya’s head dropped against the wall as he suppressed a groan. Immediately, his body pushed off the wall, and soon he was walking quickly down the hallway. The afternoon sun traced his body through the exposed windows as he took tight turns, his long legs putting in their work as he jogged up the carpeted steps.

His head and his heart were at war as they both pounded on his way to Music Room #3. Just let her go, his mind yelled, then you can be free from whatever feeling she is holding over you.

But what would your life be, his heart cried, without her?

Kyoya busted through the pink doors, alight and tie slightly askew.

He clears his throat as he adjusts the tie, storming up to a surprised Tamaki.

“Kyo, hey. Is your presentation over? How did it g-”

“Will it work?”

“Will what work?” The blonde stands at his full height.

“Your plan to keep Haruhi and (Y/n) here at Ouran. Will it work?”

“Of course it will.” Tamaki gets a knightly gleam in his eye, pounding his fist into his palm. “We just need to do a few more things.”

“Leave it to me.” Kyoya states, his lenses flashing. “How can I be of service?”

The crowd around you cheers as you hug your middle. The Zuka Club performs gloriously on the stage in front of you, your front seat perspective making them seem larger than they actually are. And, you have to admit, their pompous, look-at-me attitudes are really helping their cause here. They are great actors.

Benio, Chizuru, and Hinako all move fluidly to their final positions, getting ready to set off the performance's grand finale.

“Lo~”

“Bel~”

“Li~”

“A~!”

The cheers get even louder, and you wince at the noise. Sighing, you look around at the crazed fans with hearts for eyes, wondering if this will really be the kind of people you will go to school with.

Not like they are any different from the fan girls at Ouran.

As the Zuka Club descends from the stage, a fan bumps into you as they try to get closer to the stage, knocking the enclosed letter out of your hand. You scurry to pick it up, praying that nobody steps on it as the crowd disperses. Your fingers are just about to wrap around the cream-colored paper before a lithe, manicured palm picks it up.

“What’s this?” Benibara’s smooth voice rings in your ears as you watch her read the front.

“Hey, wait, that’s not for you-” You scramble, but the squeal of Hinako’s excitement stops you from speaking.

“Oh my god! You’re transferring to Lobelia?!” She jumps, hands over her mouth.

“No!” Your voice cracks at the volume, and you bring it down as you clear your throat. “I was just…thinking about it. The forms are blank.”

“Well, thinking is over, maiden.” Chizuru smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. “You are wanting to become one of us! Isn’t that great, girls?”

“Don’t get too excited,” A warning laces your tone as you pull away from the blonde. “I was just thinking about it. I’m not sure I’ll even get in.”

“Please, beauty.” Beni says, spinning you as she and her gang begin to walk back into the halls of Ouran. “If you were intelligent enough to be accepted into Ouran High School, then you will be just as openly invited to join Lobelia Academy.”

“Are you saying that Ouran has better academics?” You say, raising an eyebrow at the hand on the small of your back.

“Absolutely not!” Hinako scoffs. “Lobelia is the best in every wa-”

“Admittedly, yes.” The leader’s voice dips, and you can tell it pains her to have Ouran be the best at something. “But our grades have always placed second.”

And isn’t that where you should be?, you think as you pace back to the Music Room, somewhere that accepts second place?

“Oh, hello there, young maiden.” Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, Benio calls to a figure that rounded a corner, unfortunately crossing the path of you and the Zuka Club.

You see Haruhi whip her short hair around, eyes widening as she makes eye contact with the three girls in maroon skirts, before meeting yours.

“Oh, hi ladies. Hey, (Y/n).” She waves, waiting for you to catch up to her. She eyes the way Benio’s hand guides your back.

“You shouldn’t call her a maiden in public.” You hiss at the girls, pulling away from them for a second time. “It could raise the wrong idea.”

“Not for long.” Beni smiles, a song of victory in her inflection. “Are you prepared to leave, Haruhi?”

A confused look crosses over her visage. “Leave?”

Chizuru nods. “Yes! With (Y/n) on our side, we are prepared to confront those boys and set things straight once and for all.”

“What do you mean ‘set things straight’? (Y/n)? What are they talking about?”

“This, beauty.” Benio says, and to your horror, hands her the transfer forms she had stolen from you. Haruhi’s brown eyes go wide, her intelligence making it so she connects the dots at a lightning speed.

“No, no Haruhi, I promise, it’s not what you think.”

That makes her even more perplexed. “So, you’re not transferring to Lobelia?”

“She sure is.” Hinako nods, a smirk coming onto her face.

“All she has to do is sign, and we will-”

“Stop. Just, stop for a second and listen to me.” You’re begging at this point, already seeing the hurt sink into Haruhi’s eyes.

“You three, shut up.” Pointing at the Zuka Club, you drag them to the otherside of the hallway. “Stay here while I talk to Haruhi.”

You begin to move before you hear shuffling behind you, so you whip around, glaring. “In private.”

The Zuka Club just roll their eyes, but they turn anyway.

Turning back, you swallow when you see Haruhi has her mouth in a thin line, but you’re so grateful that she is reasonable enough to let you explain.

“Haruhi, I’m not transferring.” You pause, taking a breath. “Yet.”

“Yet?”

Taking the letter out of her hands, you straighten out the crinkled paper. “I was going to bring this to the meeting today to let everyone know that I was going to apply. I didn’t want you all to be blindsided.”

“Yeah, well. I feel pretty blindsided right now.” Haruhi scoffs, crossing her arms. “(Y/n), what are you thinking?”

“I don’t know! I just, I’m trying to fix things. And I keep making it worse. I thought that if I just left, things would get better on their own.”

“With us?”

You almost whine at the hurt look she gives you, like a hesitant deer coming out into the sun. “No, no, that’s not it. I love you, I love being your friend.”

And you realized you did. You had missed the silent support she gives you through your times of anxiety and stress, but you had been pushing her away because you were sad and angry.

“I-I know I haven’t been around recently, and I really don’t want to talk about why.” You bite the inside of your lip again. “But I know that I want to be better, so I thought…”

“You thought leaving would help you be around more?” Haruhi asks, an exasperated smile highlighting her cheekbones.

“...Yes? When you put it like that, it sounds stupid.” You chuckle.

Haruhi shakes her head, punching you lightly in the shoulder. “That’s because it is.”

You stare at the ground for a minute before see her shift her weight. “Look, I don’t know what’s bothering you. But I won’t press.” The honor student holds her hands in a mock-surrender. “But I do want to be here for you. Just like you are for me.”

Your eyes meet hers again, brown crashing with (e/c), and it’s warm and sisterly. “Let me do that for you.”

A stuttering breath keeps your tears of joy at bay. “Yeah, yeah. I will.” You smile wetly. “I’m sorry.”

Haruhi just hums, taking the envelope in her hands and ripping it in half. “Yeah, you should be.” She finishes with a smile.

A disappointed Zuka Club meets you back at the clubroom’s entrance.

You quirk an eyebrow at them. “You eavesdropped, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but we still haven’t heard Haruhi’s answer!” Chizuru exclaims.

Haruhi rolls her eyes. “Actually-”

“Nope! No time!” Benio rushes, pushing Haruhi through the doors as you follow behind. “Let’s show them that you, maiden, should come to school with us and be with your own kind!”

But all of them freeze.

Stepping around them, you see their pale faces. Confused brows scrunching, you follow their eyeline to see colors and makeup, wigs and dresses and then-

Holy shit.

Kyoya’s wearing a corset.

“Ouran~!”

Off-key harmonization rings throughout the room, making sure to dampen the name Music Room #3. A bright light suddenly comes up on Tamaki, draped in a red gown with blonde extensions wrapped into a high ponytail. Red lipstick floods his mouth as he sings, posing in his very own spotlight.

“Host Club welcomes you~!”

There’s silence as you scan each and every one of your hosts. The twins look elegant, Honey is just darling, and Mori is dashing in his blue suit. Kyoya is perched on the couch, a fan in one hand as his purple dress cascades over his long legs.

Their makeup is terrible, their hair is hanging by a bobby pin on their heads, and once you and Haruhi meet eyes, it’s all over. The two of you double over laughing, clutching your sides as you collapse to the ground.

Benio is raging, smoke practically coming out of her ears. “What is the meaning of this? Are you trying to make fun of womenkind?!”

Tamaki gasps dramatically. “Absolutely not.” He begins to make his way over to you, his ankles bending as he fails to walk in heels, making you laugh even harder. “My dears, you all have lived sheltered lives, and may not know that Haruhi and (Y/n) like free things.”

In the midst of your tears, Tamaki gathers his voice, raising his voice a few octaves which makes you wheeze. “You ladies may be distracted by the Zuka Club, but choose us! And you will not only gain a club of brothers, but sisters as well! See?”

He bats his false eyelashes, the glue coming off the edge of his eyelid. “Aren’t I pretty?”

The Hitachiin Twins pop out, and you and Haruhi can finally stand. “We’re the Hitachiian sisters! We’re just teasing you.” They giggle like girls, a hand over their lips.

Honey-senpai prances about. “Listen, (N/n)-chan, Haru-chan, call me big sis, okay?” He asks, big eyes staring up at you as Mori taps his tambourine.

You looked expectantly at Kyoya to pose, flounce, do something, but you smirk when he just rolls his purple-shadowed eyes, his fan covering his face.

“Do you idiots really think you can win them over like this? I mean–”

But Tamaki’s head piece tilted off his head, floating to the ground, and it made both the honor students crack up again.

“Oh my god, I can’t breathe. I’m dying!” You cry, trying to catch your breath.

“This is too much! I don’t even know what you are trying to do?” Haruhi adds, and your laughter sings across the pink walls.

“You really think we’re that funny?” The twins come up to the both of you, purposefully swaying their hips. It breaks you down, and your cheeks hurt from smiling. The twins lunge at you and start chasing you, only for them to stumble as they run in heels. They try to catch you around your middle, your tears of joy flying back behind you.

“Maiden, what is your decision?” Benio gets Haruhi’s attention as they watch you three run around, and Haruhi just shakes her head.

“I’m sorry, but your club’s not for me. I think your school is great, but I came to Ouran with a goal and a plan for my future. I don’t think I was ever going to really leave Ouran.”

“Haruhi~!” Tamaki practically melts, violet eyes glistening as he twirls over to her. But then, he stops suddenly, pointing at her with an accusatory grimace. It was hard to take seriously.

“Wait, if you knew you weren’t going to leave, then why did you act all angry yesterday?”

Haruhi put her hands on her hips. “How would you feel if I took something of yours without asking? I really liked that pencil!”

“But I asked if you wanted my teddy bear pencil in return and you refused!” The prince whined, bringing the pencil back out from the confines of his skirt.

“That’s right, and I still don’t want it.” She says blandly, causing Tamaki to whimper.

Throughout the chaos, the Zuka Club stands.

“Um, Benio…” Chizuru starts. “Maybe we should-”

“Yes, I know.” The leader of the Zuka Club sighs, a frown creasing her handsome features. “We are not going to give up on you maidens! I swear, someday, we will come and rescue you from this place!”

No one is paying attention. Benio growls, spinning around and mumbling to herself as they walk out of the clubroom.

“And when we do, we will abolish the host club.”

The afternoon’s session ends with a bang. The guests loved the get-ups and the dresses, absolutely swooning over every host in the room. But now, as the chaos dies down and things are being cleaned up, you square your shoulders.

I deserve to be here. You think over and over, and it lightens the weight on your chest. I deserve to be here, to be happy and to get answers. I deserve to try.

Taking a sharp breath, you find a tall form, black hair a little messy from the absence of a wig as Kyoya reaches behind his back, struggling with the strings on his corset.

“Need help?” You ask gently, but he still jumps, his head turning ever-so-slightly to look over his shoulder.

A deep sigh rumbles through his chest, and you see the tips of red that color his ears. “Unfortunately.” He admits.

A small chuckle breaks through your lips, and your fingers begin to work the strings of the corset off of him, brushing against the button-up shirt he kept underneath.

Looking up, you realize that he is impossibly taller than usual. “You’re still wearing the heels?” He is standing straight, perfectly balanced as if he immediately mastered the art of wearing them.

“I couldn’t bend over to take them off with this corset suffocating me. I don’t know how women ever wore these monstrosities.”

“It’s an acquired taste.” You laugh, and the tension eases slightly, both in the air and on the straps of his corset as the piece comes undone, and you step away.

He steps out of it and sighs into a chair, pulling his ankle onto his knee to work on the strap on the shoe. You bite the inside of your lip, shifting your weight on your feet a little-

“You need to stop doing that at some point. It’s a bad habit. ” Kyoya’s voice interrupts your awkward shuffling and you stand straighter, looking up at him.

“Doing what?”

“The lip-biting.” He says, not even looking at you as he ties his own dress shoes into place. “If you have something to say, then say it. Don’t sacrifice the integrity of your lips just because your anxious.”

“Right.” You release your lip from between your teeth, a small smile being placed on them instead. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

“For what?”

“For trying to keep me here at Ouran.”

His gray eyes flick up at you as he works his laces for a brief moment before he nods. “I think everyone would agree that you are an asset to this organization.”

“And for speaking to me again.”

This time his foot drops off his knee, and he is looking up at you from his seat. It’s as if he’s realizing he has subtly lifted his cold shoulder.

“Yes, well, I thought that maybe, if you weren’t going to apologize, it was time.”

“Uh huh.” You tease, crossing your arms. “Because my pestering did nothing to push that along?”

He simply pushes up his glasses. “Your presence is quite grating.”

A smile pushes it way to your mouth before you can stop it, and soon you are pulling it back, remembering why you came over here.

“Look, I know you’re mad at me.”

“Because you were unsafe, reck–”

“Reckless, stupid, yes I know.” You finish for him before he can repeat what he berated you for on the beach. “But, I’m mad at you, too.”

His shoulder straighten at that. “Wh–”

“I,” You sigh, holding up a finger. “I can’t tell you why. Not yet. But I just wanted to say, if we are going to be mad at each other without trying to fix it, then we need to set some ground rules.”

His sharp features deadpanned. “And what, (Y/n), would those be?”

“You can’t call me stupid. We both know that I’m not” Assertiveness races through your voice, and you see him wince at the memory of him doing just that.

“We have to talk to each other. It doesn’t have to be as…constant, as it was.” You swallow, and the atmosphere depresses just a little. “But we have to be communicative.”

“Except when you don’t want to talk about something? How is that fair?” The businessman pushes, leaning his elbows onto his bent knees.

“I told you I will. When I’m ready. I know you might not think so, but I deserve that.” You can tell that Kyoya wants to retort, but one look from you, and it dies in his throat.

“And lastly,” Your voice loses that harsh, dictatorial tone, growing softer as you watch him intently. “I want you to know that I’m thankful you took that dive for me.”

Kyoya stops blinking, those calm gray clouds switching between each of your pupils.

“I don’t know what it ruined, but I’m sad that what I did broke whatever was, or what I thought was possibly…growing between us. But I will forever be grateful that I had a friend like you who would jump off a cliff for me.” You take a beat, grasping at your hands.

“That’s it.” Looking back up, you see Kyoya looking at you with the warmth that you thought you had lost, but then it’s gone as he shakes his head. “I’ll see you around.”

Spinning on your heel, your shoes clack across the tile before you hear Kyoya’s voice call out behind you. “(Y/n).”

Turning, you look at him, standing with a loosely buttoned shirt, his voice floating through the air.

“You’re welcome.”

Next Time on Lavender Roses

“Is Haruhi really suffering in poverty? I have to see for myself!”

“She is probably fine, we don’t need to go over.”

“Wait, (Y/n), how did you know about that?”

Day in the Life of the Fujioka Family!

thank you again for being patient! let me know what you think in the comments!

if you would like to be in the taglist, please go to the taglist link and comment underneath it!

love you :)

107 notes · View notes

ellssbellss · 27 days

Text

(NEW!) Lavender Roses - Kyoya Ootori x Reader

pairing ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

here it is! so sorry it took so long, but unfortunately updates will be slow. but i will not abandon this story! i have too many plans :)

-> summary: Nodding, you pull your purse onto your shoulder, and Kyoya barely has time to react before you’re furiously brushing past him.

“Let me make it less complicated for you, then. Since everything else is.” Your voice is cold as you push open the exit, still avoiding eye-contact. “You won’t have to save me anymore.”

-> tw! descriptions of drowning.

-> word count: (whole episode): 20k

-> legend:

(f/h/d) - favorite hot drink

(s/c) - suit color

see masterlist! masterlist

A Challenge for Lobelia Girl's Academy!

Your lungs have flattened as you float, and your heart rate has ceased its erratic beating, but somehow your brain is still conscious. The comfort of breathing has been robbed from you, and yet you're still awake, still suffering as the freezing water breaks into your skin and rips through your muscles, chilling your bones with a pursuit that had to be admired.

Your eyes are open, (e/c) irises staring blankly up through ripples of water, your eyelids only being held open by the force of the current. Cold water rushes past your skin and pushes you deeper into a black abyss, away from the sunbeams that pierce through the watery veil.

It’s as if they're laughing at you, teasing your skin with their bright warmth.

A crash comes from above you, and a body falls from the horizon that you so desperately longed for. The form is small and muscled, rounded into a ball as they plummet towards your limp form.

Your eyelids widen, only from the force of the splash, as you see Honey’s body tumble towards you, his eyes wide with fear and confusion.

Your consciousness cries as you will your body to catch him, to move, to do anything. Honey whizzes past you, locking eyes with you as you outwardly stare into space. His mouth opens to make sound, but nothing comes out but bubbles of his precious oxygen. A sudden rush of a concentrated current pushes him down out of your view, out of your peripheral vision, and out of any hope you had of saving him. A sense of feeling comes back to you as you scream, unable to move as you feel his presence disappear, the red light of a tiki statue flashing behind you.

And when your mouth opens, more water files in, hungry and selfish as it not only surrounds your body, but suffocates your insides. Your lungs inflate with the chilling liquid, making your body weightless in the pools of terror, and you start to rise.

The surface tension of the water breaks as you lift out of the ocean. Water spills out of your mouth and nose as you are pulled up and up. Over the vast sea, over the jarring cliff that wasn’t in clear view before.

But now it taunts you, its sharp edges barely missing you as you rise.

As you ascend into the lighter blue of the sky, it begins to morph around you. The cerulean begins to darken into black, the crisp air becoming muddy and warped as the scene changes around you. For a moment, everything seems to pause and you are suspended in black. Then, gravity reminds you of your fragility, and you are sent slamming a firm surface.

The landing makes the wind rush out of your lungs, and white sheets billow around you. A comforter sculpts your back, and a large window shines into the room. You choke.

This is Kyoya’s bedroom at the beach home.

Panic floods into your system. Why were you in his room? Where was he? You couldn’t see him, not now, not after everything that happened today. Cursing in your mind, you move to leave this godforsaken mattress, get out of here and curl in on yourself till your broken heart heals, but your arms feel heavy.

Looking at your wrists, you see that they are pinned on either side of your head by an invisible force. Fighting against it, the force lifts for a second before your wrists are pushed down again, deeper into the mattress as it squeaks and wrinkles. And a red shirt appears in your vision.

Gnarly, curled fingers grip your skin, and you bury yourself into the bed. Ren’s eyes flare back at you, closer than he ever was. His sneer is prominent as his long hair is in shambles over his shoulders, and it only grows wider as you thrash below him.

His voice echoes in the shadowed chamber, wrapping around your throat and squeezing. “Nowhere to jump now, sweetheart.”

Your words are lost on you as fear strikes your heart, making it beat to a wilder rhythm as your body writhes. But he continues.

“You could’ve died on that cliff, you know that, girl? Thrown into raging waters? Very dangerous.”

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” Ren’s voice mixes with one that breaks through the shock, through the terror, and sends more panic into your veins.

In slow motion, gracefully long fingers dissolve into view. Your eyes follow as particles of pale skin form an arm that locks your wrist to the bed, and then a lithe torso comes into view as you look towards the ceiling.

The smug face of your crush, your director, your best friend appears before you, smirking with a calculating glint in his eyes that used to feel warm.

But as Kyoya pins you to the sheets, its like ice as he meets your gaze.

The floor below the bed frame isn’t stable, the mattress below you rippling like evil water as you stare up at him. Shock and dizziness make everything around you hazy except for his distasteful gaze on yours.

“Do you know that? Please tell me you’re smart enough to see it, you idiot.” There’s somehow a sense of desperate anger as Kyoya keeps you underneath him. “You were wrong. You could’ve died, and you were wrong, and now look at what you did, (Y/n).”

Your nerves say your legs are kicking, but his own pin your knees, rendering them useless. Your arms feel like they’re thrashing, but you still feel the sting of cotton surrounding your skin. Apology after apology rushes through your mind, and you open your mouth to plead with him, to cry for him, to say anything.

But you’re choking again, and a floral scent fills your lungs, causing you to freeze.

Kyoya’s cold eyes flick to your lips, and his raven brows furrow as he releases one of your wrists letting it fall heavily against the mattress. You willed it to move, but like you are drifting in the current of the ocean, you are not in control.

Coughing, something works up your throat and lands on your tongue. Kyoya’s fingers reach past your parted lips and pluck it out, bringing it into your line of sight.

A rose petal. A single, purple rose petal.

Kyoya looks at it confused, his teeth barring. “What is this? What are you doing?” Distrust engulfs his tone.

But his eyes widen as your coughing turns into wheezing, and your body is jolting as he holds you to his mattress, more petals coming up and filling your mouth, your lungs.

You're drowning, and Kyoya lets you go fully as he sits back in horror.

“Stop it. Stop it, (Y/n). Don’t do this to me.” He yells, the moonlight cascading over his sharp features that have twisted in betrayal and anger. “Don’t do this to me!”

Sitting up, you heave, the flower petals triggering an onslaught of spasming lungs as they bloom out of your mouth. Your eyes tear up, apologetic and sincere as you move to look at Kyoya again, only to scramble away in horror.

The back of your skull hits the headboard as Kyoya’s face rapidly changes. Images of his gray eyes morph into the intimidating brown of Ren’s, then the lighter ones of Haruhi’s. Tamaki, the twins, Arai, your mother, all flash on Kyoya’s neck and torso at a destabilizing pace, screaming at you to stop, to think about what you did. Looking away, you force your body to convulse, reaching a hand up to your neck to soothe the burning of thorns and petals poking into your esophagus so that you could just say sorry.

And that’s how you wake up.

Your hand around your throat, lungs burning, and Kyoya’s anger resonating through your chest.

The doors of Ouran Academy burst open, your shoes squeaking against the polished tiles and scuffing them much to the cleaning crew’s dismay.

Sending an apologetic smile their way, you stuff paper upon paper into your backpack as you dodge students left and right, weaving through the crowd of the rich and the beautiful. However, with the addition of your hurried figure, you’ve created an ink spot on a white page.

You would not describe yourself as the spitting image of beauty as you raced up the tall stairs and long, carpeted hallways of your school. You could see your peers’ eyes linger on the small shadows of purple underneath your eyes, and the untucked fabric of your uniform. Some of them bent down to pick up a few sheets of your assignments as they flew from your grasp, noting your heaving breath and panicked eyes.

Unusually, you were late.

You gave them a quick nod of gratitude before practically sprinting down the last hallway that led to Music Room #3. Your footsteps sank into the soft red carpet as you rounded a corner, but when you actually saw the sign hanging above the club room, you slowed. Stopping to rest on a pillar, you caught your breath, staring at the double doors as you heard bustling activity inside.

Every day for a week, you’ve been stopping outside the room, tracing the painted wood grain and the pink designs with your eyes for what felt like forever. For a week, your heart has constricted into knots while your fingers dug into the stone of the pillar, debating in your mind if you should even walk in.

And every day, for a week, you stepped in time with your anxious heart as a pair of purple eyes flashed behind your eyelids, begging you to just come in. And who could blame you when an image of devastating gray accompanied them.

Swallowing, you pressed your palm against the door, opening it as unceremoniously as you can, before a petite body slams into you.

“Oh, god, sorry, I just-,” Haruhi fumbles over her words as she meets your gaze before trailing off, the worry in her gaze followed by a little bit of awkwardness.

You sucked your cheek into your teeth as you made an effort to look anywhere but her, and settled on a vase of flowers poised near the entrance.

“It’s okay.” You mumble, scratching the back of your head before moving to push past her. “No worries.”

You hear a small, sharp sigh behind you, and a hand wraps around your wrist, much gentler than your nightmares. “(Y/n), wait.”

Haruhi’s calm voice makes your tingling anxiety bloom to your throat as you come to a halt. Turning over your shoulder, your smile is practiced and pristine, the muscles stretching over your lips. “Yeah?”

Her brows furrow at your soft, bright tone, your voice contrasting with your rounded shoulders. “I just…I don’t understand what’s going on.”

Your eyes freeze on hers, and your heart cracks even more.

Since you saw Haruhi lying underneath Kyoya, emotions rattled inside you like a tennis ball ricocheting off the walls of your ribs. Your anger was a bright, fleeting blip. You laid in your bed and frankly abused your pillows. You punched them, screamed into them, or threw them across the room as you tried to process Haruhi’s betrayal. You two had grown so close in such a short amount of time, and she knew you were falling for Kyoya, only to keep it a secret that she had been secretly crushing on him.

In the middle of another swing at your pillow, that thought in your mind, you froze.

She kept it a secret.

Why did she keep it a secret?

Shoulders shuddering with sandpaper breath, you sat back on your knees and faced the window looking out into the ocean.

Haruhi must’ve been harboring her own feelings, keeping them locked away while you flirted and made eyes at the boy she wanted, and she did it so easily. You watch through her eyes as you play off of Kyoya’s banter, work with him late into the night, keep him for yourself as Haruhi is pushed onto the sidelines.

A soft gust of air leaves your lips with a quiet whine, and your face curls into your palms as your spine bows. You're crying again, but for a different reason.

You cry for the friendship you two had. You cry for what it must’ve felt like for her to see you steal all of Kyoya’s time and attention and say nothing. To keep it locked away. Tears rolled for what must’ve felt like the most one-sided sisterhood of the century, and all because of a stupid boy.

Speaking of the boy.

Your anger had then reignited, and your cries turned frustrated. Digging your fingers into your next feathered victim, your punches resumed.

Now, guilt dripped into your chest, mixing with the anxiety and hurt as you stared back at her, but your smile remained true. “What do you mean?”

“Are you avoiding me?” Her voice is blunt, and you cringe internally. You loved Haruhi for being straightforward, it was refreshing from the usual antics of rich people to passively aggressively beat around a bush. But to be on the other end of it was jarring.

Clearing your throat, you look to that same vase again, a lie locked and loaded behind your teeth. “No, no, I just saw that you were leaving, and wanted to get out of your way.”

Haruhi’s eyes deadpan. “If that’s the case, you’ve been getting out of my way all week.” She put air quotes around the words. “Did I do something, Senpai? I know you might be a little…shaken by what happened on the beach, but I feel like you’ve practically tripped over yourself to get away from me lately.”

When you look back at her, you can see the concern whirling through her irises, and the faucet of guilt breaks into a steady stream.

You’ve kept her in the dark, you’ve had too. There was no way you were going to out her relationship with Kyoya without her being ready, and you couldn’t bear the embarrassment of telling her that you saw them together. Empathy floats up in your sternum at her clear confusion, and you fight to make your smile a little more real.

Sighing, you relax your arm, signaling that you weren’t going anywhere, and she releases you. “I’m not ignoring you.” You say gently. “And don’t call me Senpai, it’s weird.”

Her confusion fades into relief as you turn to her, fixing your overflowing backpack onto your shoulders. “Sorry, it’s just when you look at me like you don’t even know me, it’s hard to resist formalities.”

A lump forms in your throat when you realize that it was true. Since she has been hiding so much from you, you didn’t know her. Not as well as you thought you did.

“I’m just tired, no big deal.” Desperate to change the topic, you gesture to her outerwear, the light spring breeze forcing students to wear their light jackets. “Where are you off too?”

“Hikaru and Kaoru asked me to get more instant coffee from the store.” She grumbled, and you almost laughed at the disdain that passed over her face. “I still don’t understand why they can’t go get it themselves.”

“Well, it’s nice of you to help them out.” Turning over your shoulder, you see the two red-haired boys talking jovially with some other guests, chests shaking with gentle laughter. “They seem to be having a good time, thanks to you.”

Haruhi curls an eyebrow. “Thanks to me?”

Sighing, you turn back to her, trying to force yourself through the conversation so that it doesn’t look like you’re avoiding her even though you are, and it’s very complicated and annoying and you hate it.

But a softness comes to your face as you speak. “I haven’t known the twins for as long as some of the others, but I know that they weren’t always this warm and friendly.” A flashback of the boys in a corner reading the same book comes to your mind before you push it away.

“They were quiet, withdrawn, and didn’t have many friends. I worked for a long time to build the trust that we have together, but it was instant between the three of you. It really pulled them out of their shell, little by little.”

You watch Haruhi’s eyes pass behind you as she watches the twins, a thoughtful look on her face. A shot of adoration for her spikes through you instinctually at the fact that she truly didn’t know how much she has impacted the host club in the time she has been here. It makes you want to hug her with all your strength. Tamaki must be rubbing off on you.

But then the image of her looking up at Kyoya as he straddles her replaces that warmth with chilling dread.

“I never really noticed.” She said plainly, shrugging her shoulders.

A reluctant smile formed on your features. “They can sneak up on you.”

Silence falls between you as the rumble of host club chatter fills the space, and the awkwardness rears its ugly head.

“Are you sure we’re okay?” Sincerity spills through her, and it’s all you can do not to cry again.

“We’re fine. And if it seems like we’re not, it’s not you, it’s me.” Partly true, in a way. You jab a thumb over your shoulder, needing to leave the tense air. “I’ll see you in there.”

Turning over your shoulder, your eyes immediately fall onto a lithe waist dressed in a lavender jacket. Arms fold protectively around his blackbook as Kyoya’s attention floods into his calculations, but it’s as if you can feel your eyes on you as he meets your gaze out of the corner of his glasses.

A whole switchboard of emotions alights in your body at the indifference in his eyes as he quickly retreats into his writing again. Blowing out a breath, you spin and walk right past Haruhi. “You know what? I’ll grab the coffee. Be right back.”

This time when you walk across your campus, it’s a slow, deliberate stroll. A paper grocery bag is pressed against your chest as you get lost in your thoughts.

You and Kyoya hadn’t spoken since that day on the beach. Anytime you were around each other, it was terrible and tense. You used to fidget, pacing back and forth in your mind on whether you should say something, anything to him to tell him how you feel, but eventually you didn’t have the energy to be anxious.

The betrayal you felt from Haruhi immediately changed into guilt when you realized what it must’ve been like to keep her true feelings from you. With him, your anger and heartbreak slightly dulled into a constant pressure, always reminding you that at the first sign of trouble between the two of you, Kyoya turned to someone else.

Kyoya had once called you a child for ignoring him after the whole incident with Renge, and yet he has justified himself enough to do the same thing. He’s been quiet, cold, turned off from anything that you had to say that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

But he never made himself scarce. Kyoya wasn’t avoiding you by any means. In fact, he seemed to be anywhere you turned, always giving you ample opportunity to get on your knees and grovel for his forgiveness, as if he was above all this.

As if he hadn’t done anything to rip your heart in two.

Now fuming internally, you decided to wait it out. The two of you were exceptionally stubborn people who were skilled at compacting your emotions into a tight star, ready to burst at any moment.

You decided to see which one of you would be the first to set off a supernova.

The whole situation felt off, and you had no idea why. You never pegged Kyoya as the kind of guy to be so physical with someone he had relatively just met. The glancing touches and the near-kiss instances that you two shared felt special to you, as if you had gained his trust enough to reach a level with him that almost no one else has.

You sighed, blinking back the image of him straddling her waist. Guess it was just another testament to how hard they had fallen for one another.

In your pity party, you didn’t see a rogue banana peel being thrown into your path, and soon the ground is yanked out from under you as you fall backwards.

Limber, strong arms wrap around your shoulders as you tip backwards, and after closing your eyes expecting an impact, you open them to see green eyes staring back at you.

Chest heaving in surprise, you freeze in the strangers arms. Their presence is familiar in a way.

The stranger gets closer, and you realize that despite her more masculine facial structure, it’s a girl that has saved you from falling on your ass.

She poses, dipping you more into her embrace as her smooth, timber voice rolls over your ears. “It’d be a shame for any harm to come to that cute face of yours young lady.”

The startled look in your eye plateaus as you bite your cheek, and you groan internally. This new student steadies you and offers gallantly to walk you back to your glass, and you realize why her energy was so recognizable.

She’s exactly like Tamaki.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Benibara says, keeping her arm firm around your shoulders as she escorts you through the halls of your school.

Wiggling in her hold, your jaw ticked as you tried to force a polite smile. “Really, I am. You don’t have to walk me to class, I’m sure your school is dying to get set up for the cultural exposition.”

Benibara, who confidently introduced herself as the president of the Zuka Club as Lobelia Girls’ Academy, tsks and looks at you with a sultry gleam. “Don’t be silly, (Y/n). Let me make sure you get there safely.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, but follow her anyway. If Kyoya didn’t already want to kill you, he certainly would if you were rude to a student from another school. Not to mention you were in uniform, so they would know exactly where the rude girl belonged.

Her red skirt and white blouse flowed gently around the corner, and you unintentionally froze again as Music Room #3 came into view. Tall, gorgeous Benio turned over her shoulder, her gaze becoming sharp.

“You know, (Y/n), when I asked if you were alright, I wasn’t necessarily talking about your fall.”

You suck in a sharp breath and flick your gaze right back to hers, her eyes looking at you with a deep understanding that almost knocks you off your feet.

And then it annoys you. “I’m fine.” The words are practiced. This is what you’ve been telling yourself on repeat, after all.

“Are you, now? Think you’re above a hard day here and there?” Benio chuckles deeply in her chest before reaching a hand out to graze your cheekbones. “Come now, little sakura, tell me.”

But you pull your face away from her touch, rolling your eyes again as your irritation motivates you to push past her. You almost make it to the club’s door, hearing voices from inside.

“...a little harsh? Fine then, what do you think women want to hear?” Tamaki’s muffled voice floats out into the hallway. Another sigh rolls through you as the topic of their current conversation already feels too intense for your emotional state.

But you don’t have time to open the door yourself as Benibara pulls you back against her from your waist. You feel a bony chest at your back as she seems to levitate towards the club door, her arm firmly wrapped around you as she bursts through it.

Her feminine baritone fills the air of the Music Room. “Maybe something like…” You squeak as you feel her breath on your ear. “I would never leave my lover alone.”

“What the f–?” Your confusion is cut off but also flamed when the arm around your waist pulls, spinning your 360 degrees before you're caught in a dip by her toned arms.

Benio’s lips curl into a smirk as her voice holds a fantastical tone that causes your mind to fog a little. “If we fight, it will be together. If we fail, we fail together.”

Again, you’re whisked to another position. This time your arm is stretched out and Benio is on one knee before you, your palm in hers as she brings it to touch her lips. “Even if I were to die, I promise you that I will never leave your side, my love.”

Your eyebrow twitches for a moment, a blush deepening on your cheeks. Looking to the side, you see your host club dressed as knights, armor shining dramatically in the natural light from the windows, and you sigh, eyeing their protective costumes.

You could’ve been wearing armor against this girl too if you hadn’t left to go run errands.

The idiotic trio’s mouths fall open as you are spun and held against another student, and Tamaki’s eyes seem to bloom to twice their size. You see two other girls in uniforms similar to Benibara’s run up to her with large, adoring smiles on their faces.

“Benibara! We thought you’d never show!” One of them says, her short hair bouncing with her movements.

Another taller girl with a deeper voice and longer hair strides to Benio’s otherside, giving you a long look. “What’re we going to do with you? So, tell us where you found this lovely lady.”

All three women are looking at you with an interest that you’ve only seen from your guests, and you feel a headache coming on. Not just because they were staring at you with a protective interest that you’ve only seen from your guests, but also because they were so goddamn beautiful.

What kind of blood oath did you have to make to get their bone structure?

Benio’s chuckle rang close to your ears as she stood, still holding your hand. “I just met her outside of the school. She may look plain, but I knew the truth to her beauty. She has such gorgeous eyes.” The taller woman leans in, her lithe finger gracing your cheekbones as she stares deeply into your irises.

Wincing, you turn your face away from her as you back up, only to run into the shorter, peppier one.

Her high voice exclaims an excited gasp as her fingers dip under your sleeve, forcing the fabric of your lavender coat up to feel the soft skin underneath.

Your jaw clenches as she forcefully takes your hand, your annoyance building. “Wow, her skin is incredibly soft!”

“Could you not?” You ask softly yet firmly, but it’s overshadowed as the third student kneels in front of you, running her hand over your bare thigh and calf with amazement.

Her hand runs over your healing cut, the band aid with hearts still attached to your skin. “Isn’t it though?” She marvels as her fingers prod over your leg. “I think we found a diamond in the rough!”

Seeing her hand pass over your cut ignites a sharp reaction from you, and you push all three women off, ripping your limbs away from their grasp. “Would you all stop? God, ever heard of personal space?”

Your shoulders heave in the middle of the club room as the women stare you down, their eyes wide in amazement. Looking past them, you see the boys watching you tentatively, knowing where your outburst is coming from.

But then Benio’s mouth curves down, not from disappointment, but in sympathy. Her long legs make their way over to you slowly, and her hand reaches towards you, an olive branch.

“You’ve been hurt, yes?”

Her words spill over you like ice water, and a shot of embarrassment pierces through your chest. Was it that obvious?

“What?”

“Someone hasn’t treated you well. Someone hurt you.” That same understanding from before shades into her pupils, and it takes everything in you not to retreat from her form. She studies the way that you roll your shoulders with a conjured formidability that had to have been practiced and reconsiders her words. “Or maybe, people hurt you.”

Her bluntness is laced with caramel-like kindness that completely blows the wind out of you. You just stare at her for a long minute, not knowing what to say as she comes closer and closer, cautiously stepping towards the deer in the headlights.

This time when her hand finds your face, you don’t pull away. She hums in pity, tapping her finger under your chin. “Ladies, this princess is suffering. Trapped in a place where she is underappreciated and lost.”

Their eyes swim with tears with the grace of a celebrity on screen, gorgeous eyes glistening with the moisture. They whine to you as they immediately embrace you again, two pairs of arms coming around your waist.

“It’s such a shame!” Leaning their heads into your shoulder, their cries dampen the intensity of the moment, and your annoyance rises again to a dull buzz.

Your face falls flat as they fret over you, but you let them. If it’ll get them to leave faster, so be it.

But Tamaki couldn’t stand it for another second.

The host club has stood back long enough and watched you run yourself into the ground. Most of them have done all they could think of. Hikaru and Kaoru try to make you laugh, and sometimes it works. Sometimes you’re doubled over, clutching your sides while trying to catch your breath and the twins think that the storm has finally passed. But the next day, you’ll kindly shake your head and walk away, leaving them lost on what to do next.

Mori and Honey have been feeding you, making sure that you’ve eaten lunch when you are scheduled too, and sending you with plenty of sweet treats and things they know you enjoy before you leave school for the day. Even after Mori had offered their dojo to you, you still had yet to show up, and that was worrying. The cousins thought it was because it was hard to bring yourself out of bed in the morning.

Tamaki and Haruhi showered you with attention when you allowed it. You did sometimes, but mostly from Tamaki. His heart sputtered in confusion when you would turn your gaze away from his brunette honor student, but he figured it was just because she reminded you of that day on the cliff. The blonde was constantly at your side. During class, club hours, any time you didn’t completely shove him off gave him an opportunity to show him that he was there for you.

As his purple eyes watched your blank expression while foreign hands touched you, his eyes shot to Kyoya, a dramatic glare in his gaze. Kyoya felt his best friend’s eyes on him and met his stare before rolling his eyes behind his glasses.

The blonde saw Kyoya’s Adam's apple bob for a second, and he knew that the Ootori son was holding himself back. Tamaki groaned internally as Kyoya kept up the same facade he’s been portraying for the past week. The facade of disinterest.

And frankly, Tamaki had had enough.

Another flare of irritation fired into the prince’s chest as Kyoya simply shook his head slightly, stubbornly folding his arms across his waist. But when Tamaki studied him closely, he caught the sharp way Kyoya’s eyes narrowed at the way this tall woman was cradling your face.

Tamaki huffed when he realized Kyoya still wasn’t going to do anything and immediately rushed forward, wanting to save you like he always does.

“Don’t you go touching mon ami without asking my permission!” He yelled, reaching towards your form with a protective urge.

But you watched as a fist connected to Tamaki’s pristine features, and your jaw dropped as Benio sent him flying, the other two women wrapping their arms tighter around you. Your prince’s blonde hair whips with the force as he is sent flying back towards the other hosts.

He lands on his butt with a whine, and his hand comes up to his cheek. “She punched me! So violent!”

Honey-senpai scolds him as Tamaki sprawls on the ground, holding Usa-chan in his grasp. “Pull yourself together!”

Finally, the female trio lets go of you as they put themselves between you and the host club. A sigh rolled out of your lungs, and you watched two dramatic forces clash together like swords. Beni stands, her long form towering over Tamaki after knocking him to his feet.

“Guess the rumors we heard are true.” She speaks, utter confidence lacing her tone. “You guys are just a bunch of weak little punks with no sense between you.”

A distinct sigh passes over the host club, one that topples another rock onto the stone pile in your stomach.

“These uniforms.” Kyoya’s voice is cold, precise as he pushes his glasses onto his nose. “I assume you ladies are from Lobelia Girls’ Academy?”

Benibara’s hair swishes as she twirls, her attention completely lost to you. Another smug grin traces her lips as she strikes another pose, her hand poised just so. “That’s correct.”

Flashes of color and cloth pass by your vision as the three girls rip off their uniforms, revealing extravagant costumes underneath. Bouncy skirts fall to the pink tiles from the waist of the taller girl, the shorter one sporting something pink that went to mid-thigh. Beni rises in a tux, perfectly tailored to her slim figure. It seems like spotlights shine down on them as they pop up from their poses one by one, glitter in their irises.

“Lobelia~” Benibara stands, a baritone note rising from her lips.

“Lobelia~” An alto sound follows as the middle-height blonde rises, her toes pointed and chin lifted in the air.

“Lobelia~” Soprano fills your ears as the last one sings, her arms stretched out as she picks one leg up.

You stared at them incredulously, confusion and a little bit of admiration in your thoughts as they harmonized. How many times had they rehearsed this? When did they rehearse this?

…Did the host club need a theme song too?

Your thoughts were interrupted when Benibara pulled out a flower and you realized, Oh…it wasn’t over.

“St. Lobelia Academy, high school 2nd year, Benio Amakuska.” She said as she passed in front of you, placing a lily in your hands before posing again. “Lady of the Crimson Rose, A.K.A Benibara.”

You stopped the rude scoff bubbling into your throat. God, they even had nicknames? The blonde steered toward you, her walk graceful as the blue dress flowed at her ankles. “2nd year student, Chizuru Maihara.” Chizuru’s right hand unfurls a small fan as her left places another lily in your hands.

Lastly, the shortest one twirls, placing the last lilly into your hand before posing next to her friends. “1st year student, Hinako Tsuwabuki!”

“We are the members of the St. Lobelia Academy’s White Lilly League.” Beni said, posing her top hat in front of her face with a flirtatious grace. “Also known as…!” Sending her hat into the air with pizazz, the three girls twirl, the arms opening so wide that you have to make your way over next to Hikaru and Kaoru to give them more room.

They spin with so much force that the petals on their lilies fall off the flower and are sent around the room, twisting in a flurry as they cover the girls. When the flowers dissipate, the Lobelia students have somehow changed outfits again, poofy dresses and intricate fanned headdresses adorning their heads. Their hands are outstretched, large smiles on their faces as they fall into a final pose.

“The Zuka Club!”

Blinking slowly, you close your agape mouth. The silence in the club room lengthens, before you and your twins could no longer hold it in anymore.

Deep chuckles expel from your chest as you wheeze, tears quickly filling your eyes as you drop to the floor. Hikaru and Kaoru are quick behind you, their backs arching as Hikaru slaps the floor with each bellow of his laughter, trying to catch his breath.

“The Zuka Club?! Oh man, what a stupid name! My stomach hurts!”

Kaoru can barely agree with his brother, his voice cracking with an effort to breathe. “The Zuka Club?! That’s priceless!”

“They-They had those get ups under their uniforms!” You shout, clutching your side as you lean on Kaoru’s shoulder.

You three continue to bellow, and it feels like old times for a moment. The ease of being around the host club returns into your bones like muscle memory, and it felt like nothing had changed for you.

But then the ground begins to tremble, machine’s whirring in a dark, unknown place. Your laughter halts, and as your gaze follows the tiered platform as it rises from the polished tiles of Music Room #3, you sigh, your mood rotting the peacefulness you felt.

“You shouldn’t underestimate the Zuka Club!”

A certain brunette sits atop this tier, a tea cup perfectly placed in her hand, her fingers bringing it to her lips. She seemed almost serene atop a patio chair and table, an umbrella shading her from the artificial ceiling light.

And then she spoke.

“I may not know much about instant coffee, but I am fascinated with girls’ schools.” Renge’s voice fills the club room, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. You wonder who else will come into this room and play with the frayed edges of your patience?

She takes a sip out of her cup before spitting it out immediately, instant coffee splattering down onto the second tier of her platform. “St. Lobelia Academy! It is truly a woman’s world there!” Renge stands, and she gets that distant, dreamy look in her eye you’ve seen too many times before. Despite the perfectly good table in front of her, Renge discards her tea cup and saucer to the floor, the porcelain crashing with an annoying clang.

“The Zuka Club is a group of young maidens who consider women to be superior in every way! The club prides itself on it’s 30 year history. It’s a society of maidens, by maidens, for maidens! Their activities include maiden tea parties, debate forums, and the musical reviews performed by their top members.”

Glancing over to Benibara, you see a satisfied smile on her face, pride gleaming in her green irises as she watches Renge recount her successes. You can see how people follow her so easily. She makes you want to be apart of that feeling of comfort, of accomplishment.

“Well.” A clang of armor sounds against a desk, and you tense your shoulders. Slowly following the gaze of the crowd, you watch as Kyoya fixes his tie onto his button down. During Renge’s speech, the men had switched out of the knight costumes with a speed that is only achieved through years of practice. Or in this case, weeks.

You let your eyes catch a glimpse of his sharp jawline before you direct them to the floor again. It was too hard.

Kyoya cleared his throat, his voice resonating. “You sure have a vast world of knowledge, Renge.”

The brunette laughs, flicking a hand at the director. “Well, I’ve always admired Lobelia Academy. I just couldn’t go to school there, though.” She put her hands on her cheeks as if she was facing her worst nightmare. “Just what would I do without any boys?”

With that, she descended into the floor, waiting like a jack in the box under the tile; to spring up when least expected.

Chizuru places her hands together, the tips of her delicate fingers tracing her lips. “A maiden’s beauty.” Her voice was soft but determined, as if passing on a valuable piece of information. “It means possessing a spirit pure enough to not give in to power or to lust.”

Hinako’s bobbed hair bounces up to the side of her friend as they face the host club together. “As a girl, you…for a girl, you…! We’ve had quite enough of all your oppressive male contempt for womenkind.

“And our pride,” Beni’s baritone floats through the room, vibrating lightly against the host’s club’s windows. “It comes from having meaningful relationships based on equality.” Beni holds her hands out to the two other girls, and they cuddle into her side. It would’ve been sweet if there wasn’t a migraine blossoming it’s way to the front of your skull.

“Because we are the same sex, and yes, that means relationships of love.” A mischievous sparkle floats in her eye that confuses you. Does this woman think she invented lesbianism?

Shrugging, you sigh, turning your back and stepping away from the chaos, mumbling a small ‘whatever floats your boat’ as you cross the ever spacious club room.

You catch a glimpse of blonde hair and a hunched lavender form at one of the windowsills, and you make your appearance at Tamaki’s side.

“Tamaki?” You ask, reaching your hand out to touch his shoulder, only to find it shaking. “What’s going on with you?”

He looks to you, eyes wide, his purple pupils shrunken to violet dots. “Th-these girls! They’re talking nonsense!”

You laugh slightly, putting both of your hands on his shoulders and massaging them. “I think they are just trying to scare you.”

“Well, it’s working!” His voice carries, but you turn to find that the host club is too preoccupied with the Zuka Club to notice. “Who does this girl think she is anyway, huh? Touching you like that? Saying these…these…words that I can’t bear to hear!”

“Tamaki, Tamaki…” You say softly, a fond amusement warming your smile. “Just chill for a second, okay? I think you might be having a bit of a culture shock.”

“Culture shock?!” His wide-eyed attention locks on you, and he brings his voice down to a hiss. “What’s that?”

“How about we just lay down, yeah?” You suggest through a giggle. Putting his arm through yours, you lead him to the bed that Honey-senpai uses for his naps. Pulling back the baby blue comforter, you sit him on the edge of the bed. You flip the pillow over onto it’s cool side, and Tamaki immediately realizes how much his outburst took out of him. Sleepy, violet gems become hooded as he looks up at you from his restful cloud.

“This is not how it’s supposed to go.”

Still humored, you tilt your head, playing along. “And how is it supposed to go, exactly?”

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you, not the other way around.”

Your heart drops, your chest heaving with a sigh. Flashes of Tamaki greeting you at the door of the music room, a little bit too eager and standing a little too close play in your mind.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you pat him on the head, turning on your heel to leave him to rest. “We can take care of each other.”

Rejoining the rest of the club, you sink into the red couch as the Zuka Club continues to brag about their progressive ways, making you swallow another scoff.

The host club wasn’t listening to them either. Honey and Usa-chan watched Mori practice his sword skills, while Kaoru fiddles with the groceries you had brought back. Your eyes travel over Hikaru’s shoulder as he plays on his DS, Mario bouncing across the screen.

A shadow casts on the other side of the couch, Kyoya’s spine curled around his book. Your curiosity catches a page that was filled with writing, but blank in the edges. No spirals.

Hikaru interrupts the Zuka Club’s ramblings, his bored tone piercing their flirty air. “Whatever. Honestly, we are so over it.” He leans back, his shoulder brushing with yours as he props his feet up on the table, his gaze never leaving the game.

Kaoru examines another thing of instant coffee from the brown paper bag, his tone, like most of his mannerisms, mirroring his brother’s. “What don’t you gals just scram?”

The Zuka Club stands there stuttering at their rudeness, and your gaze flicks to Benibara’s, her eyes suspiciously watching the six of you.

But Hinako huffs, a haughty tone lacing her words. “I find it hard to believe that you silly boys have nothing to say about our sublime female love.”

But Hikaru just leaned towards you, speaking out of the side of his mouth without breaking his attention from his game. “What the hell is she even talking about?”

A giggle caught behind your lips, and Kaoru continued to show disinterest, facing towards you and showing you the label. “I’ve never seen this brand before, it’s clear (Y/n) bought the groceries this time around.”

This time, a scoff left your lips, and you picked up a throw pillow and chucked it at his head.

The blonde Zuka member rolled her eyes, pitifully sighing as she caressed Beni’s cheek. “You should feel sorry for them, Benio. Now they are all flustered, and they don’t know what to do with themselves!”

Benibara just nodded gravely before another smirk lit up her lips. “True, though I must say that I’m glad we decided to perform here. It was fun to sneak a peek at the notorious host club.”

Honey perked up at that, swinging his legs off the edge of the couch as he looked at his cousin. “Hey, are we really notorious?”

Mori swings his sword before gracefully setting it onto his shoulder. “Yeah.”

Someone yawned.

Benibara huffed, the lack of attention drawing irritation from her gut as she quickly scooped forward, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards her again. She holds your arm up around her shoulders, her other hand lightly cradling her chin. Your jaw sets.

“And to think, they’re dragging this sweet, young girl down with them.”

“I told you, I’m fine.” You argued, your voice steely and taut.

But she ignores you, pushing you away. As you stumble out of her grasp, you straighten your uniform, watching as she basks at the hosts’ attention once again now that she had grabbed you. You were only a means to an end.

“Well, the host club’s president may be a pretty little halfer, but he shouldn’t be using his looks to create a fictitious romance!”

Another flare of annoyance sparks at her words, and you take a step toward her. “Don’t call him that.”

But she ignores you, relishing in the rising of emotion. Much better than the clear, piercing boredom. “Oh, attempting to fool the heart of a poor maiden is demeaning! Your so-called club activities are nothing more than debasing macho fantasies! I promise you, we will bring you guys down, the Ouran Host club will be abolished!”

You stopped in your tracks, the tiles on the floor almost seeming like glue traps, your black dress shoes wanting to sink and never budge.

Abolish the host club? For what, creating fun little scenes?

You had never thought that your club was playing with the hearts of the boys and girls at this school. You thought they relished in the attention, the fantasy. But your mind rushed to the sweet girl who had kissed your cheek, hope in her eyes.

And now you were one of the maidens, your foolish heart in the hands of a raven-haired puppeteer.

Is this what you made your guests feel like?

“I see.” As if someone had whispered your thoughts in his ear, Kyoya closed his book, the leather-bound pages snapping closed as he pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose. His voice fell into a practiced politeness, but his eyes flared. “I understand your concern. But do you think that maybe we could finish this later?”

Beni’s chest puffed, her voice challenging the words of the megane, twisting them. “Are you saying that you’re not going to face us?”

The edge of Kyoya’s lips twitched, and he met her gaze. “Not at all.”

His pale hand gestures to where Tamaki still slept, his face exhausted and weary as he mumbles in his dreams.

“It’s just that our president is still bed-ridden from his initial culture-shock.”

You wanted to ask him how he knew that, but you knew the answer. Kyoya was always observing.

Honey giggles, having no problem with his nap spot being used. “You see, Tama-chan is having his nappy right now.”

Benibara clenches her fist at her sides. “Then wake him up!” She yells, and you fume. No matter how much she has shaken your day today, no one needed to interfere with Tamaki.

Your feet unstuck themselves, but before you could give her a piece of your mind, Haruhi appeared in front of you, a full tray in her hands. The honor student shot a glance back at you, a look telling you she could handle this, and placed a sweet smile on her lips.

“‘Scuse me, I just made some coffee.” She offers, her face calming and nurturing. “Would you ladies like to have some?”

The tall, handsome girl looked like she was about to faint with gratitude, and her sour mood lightened immediately. “Why yes, aren’t you the sweetest thing?”

The three of them smile at Haruhi as they take their respective tea cups, complimenting her whole-heartedly.

“You know, coffee made by a maiden always has a more fragrant aroma.”

Haruhi’s hands tighten on the tray, her surprise mirroring the rest of the host club’s when Benibara confirms Haruhi’s sex.

“What? Wait a minute…” You begin to stutter, the other hosts frozen instantly without knowing what to say.

The flirty Lobelia student just scoffs, soaking in the scent of the coffee as she dismisses you immediately. “Oh please, don’t try to hide it. She may be dressed as one of these boys, but I knew the truth. What kind of lover would I be if I didn’t appreciate and recognize the beauty of my own sex? And the way they make their coffee.” She serenades, winking at Haruhi over the edge of her tea cup.

“But, uh…” Haruhi starts, her brain reconnecting its wires. “This stuff’s just instant.”

Hinako just coos, walking towards Haruhi and twirling her hair. “How about we all have a tea party?” She asks, smiling your way.

“You’ve got it all wrong!” The entire room jolts when Tamaki bursts out of his bed, his teeth baring as his eyes zero in on Hinako’s finger tangled in Haruhi’s locks. “Don’t you see that our host club isn’t what you think it is? We give them hope! Love! Fantasy from their daily routine!” He stomped over, almost running as he crossed the pink floor.

“If we really were stooping as low as you believe, then why do people keep coming back?!” He cries, his arm jutting out to rip Hinako away from his precious honor student, but his momentum didn’t carry him that far. Instead, somehow, with impressive accuracy, his bare finger lands smack dab in the center of Hinako’s tea cup, dipping into the boiling coffee.

“Hot! Hot, hot, hot!” Tamaki staggers backwards, wagging his finger before he trips over himself and falls, ungracefully, to the floor.

Haruhi’s eyes widen, and she quickly hands the tray over to you before crossing the room. Before you can blink, Haruhi is kneeling in front of Tamaki, rummaging through her school jacket before she is taking a thing of bandages from her coat.

“You have to be more careful, Senpai.” She sighs, her eyebrow creasing slightly as she holds out her hand for his.

Tamaki blinks slightly, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. Slowly, he places his hands in hers. Her fingers work gently, spiraling the bandage around his finger, her brown eyes concentrated on healing the burn.

So she may not notice, but you do when Tamaki’s gaze trails over her soft features for a millisecond longer than you might expect him too.

You swallow, focusing on the shining porcelain on your tray, your reflection warped against the tea kettle. There was a time when you looked at someone like that, and had thought they had seen you similarly.

“Thanks, Haruhi.” Tamaki says, his voice soft. You look up to see him staring at his finger, the pair kneeling next to each other. “Do you always carry bandages around with you?”

Haruhi just shakes her head, simpering at him with a smile that makes his eyes drop to her lips before flicking back to her gaze. “Nah, the supermarket gives them out for free with the purchase of instant coffee. I got them when I went yesterday.” She tilts her head just so, and you watch the blush darken on Tamaki’s cheeks. “You always get free stuff at the supermarket.”

“Free stuff?” His voice is drifting, clearly lost in some other thought that didn’t include any bandages.

A deeper voice ruins their moment, and your hands grasp tightly on the tray. “Well, this conversation isn’t going anywhere.”

With gusto, Beni raises Haruhi to her feet, making Tamaki gasp and almost reach out for her.

Almost.

Two arms encircle your waist as another pair relieves the tray from your grasp, and you are tugged into a group hug with the Lobelia girls and Haruhi. Their arms drape over your shoulders as you're pressed into the blonde’s chest, Hinako leaning against your arm.

“Now that we know what is going on,” Beni announces, her hand wrapped neatly over Haruhi’s waist as she presses the honor student to her chest, “We can’t allow these maidens to stay here! We will prepare their paperwork and have them transferred to Lobelia at once! And, we’ll welcome them to the Zuka Club!”

You gasp against Chizuru’s chest, before breaking away from the group. Stumbling, you shake your head.

Keeping your composure was trying, your voice shaking as you reminded yourself to keep up appearances. Your wits were already worn, your headache growing exponentially at these girls’ antics. But you swallowed, shaking your head and willing the social training you had experienced your entire life.

“Listen, I understand that you are trying to help here, I do. But the way you are going about it is abrasive, assuming, and quite frankly, ignorant.” The three girls tensed at your tone, Beni folding her arms. Your anger from the past few days simmers into an urge to put yourself on a pedestal, to stand as if you’re better than them in every way.

Your posture straightens, but right before you are about to give them a piece of your mind, Haruhi interrupts, standing in front of you.

“Just, everyone wait a second, okay?” Haruhi reconciles, her hands waving in a peaceful gesture. “I think there may be some misunderstandings here. I mean, first of all, you called Senpai a halfer!” She says, giggling.

You step forward, peeking out from behind her shoulder. “Cause he is. Even though the term is outdated,” You spit, sharply looking at Benibara, “Tamaki is half-french and half-japanese.”

Haruhi stutters, trying to correct herself. “Well, uh, I don’t think it’s fair to pick on the host club just because they might not have the same history as you!” She claims innocently, and you deadpan.

“Actually,” You wince. “We barely have any history, we were just founded two years ago when Tamaki started the club when he started high school.”

The honor student’s shoulder’s slump, and her head lolls to the side. “Be that as it may, saying their club activities are just held to satisfy their appetites is wrong. I mean, we don’t even charge them.”

You plant your face in your hands. “Oh no, Haruhi…”

“While I wouldn’t call it a charge, we do have a point system.” You all turn to see Kyoya leaning casually against one of the tables of the Music Room, his laptop sat on top as he pulls up a website.

Haruhi’s eyebrow creases, and you lead her to the laptop. “We offer a kind of priority service,” you explain, moving to the other side of the laptop and presenting it. “They are based on the winning bids of auctions held on our website.”

Kyoya hums. “Check this out, Haruhi. Your mechanical pencil just sold for a winning bid of 30,000 yen.” He smiles back at her, the fake one that stretches his thin lips. “Good for you.”

You nod curtly, trying to read Haruhi’s shocked expression as you move to close out of the window on the laptop, but Kyoya had the same plan. Your fingers brush his on the same button, and both of your gazes sharply meet, snapping like a rubber band.

And suddenly, you’re back.

Back to when you were Kyoya’s right-hand man, back to the study sessions in your room, the moments on moonlit piano benches. The dances, the cherry blossom trees, late-night phone calls, and the sunset-colored glances and grazes. It takes everything in you to swallow the ball of sunshine that engulfs your sternum, and remind yourself of the darkness you had seen. And the shapes in that darkness.

He’s the one that breaks eye contact first, and that’s when that darkness turns to ice, settling deep into your stomach.

Before you could take your own hand off the keyboard, Haruhi rushed forward, rattling off complaints.

“I thought I had lost that pencil!” She whines as she scrolls through the items up for sale. She looks up at you. “Why didn’t you tell me this before? I didn’t know you were collecting money.”

“To be fair”, You shrug, putting on your best ‘I-swear-I’m-more-innocent-than-you-think-I-am’ face, “I don’t choose what goes on the site. That is the director’s job.”

Kyoya scoffs, fixing his glasses with a sharper shove than normal when Haruhi’s accusing gaze lands on him. “What, you expect us all to work as volunteers?”

More gently, you try to explain. “While it’s not much, our club makes a small profit off of these auctions.”

“Oh, really? You’re okay with this?” Haruhi asks, huffing as she continues scrolling.

“Okay with it is a stretch, but it isn’t the worst thing-”

“Then look at this.” Her finger freezes on the mouse pad and flips it around, shoving the computer in your direction before folding her arms across her chest.

Leaning in, you gasp, the pixelated image forming the last thing you thought you would see on that site.

Four pictures were being sold as a bundle, two you had unfortunately seen before, and two others that shoved your heart into your throat.

Two of them were the pictures that had been offered as the prize for the Scare Challenge on the beach, your drool and your middle-school Ice Bucket fail had been put up for the world to see.

But the other two were more intimate. A sparkling blue dress dressed your figure as the twins hurried around you, sparkles in their eyes. And another where you had lifted the camera with a cheesy smile, catching Kyoya off guard after being enlisted as the club’s private photographer.

Only one person had access to these photos anymore, since you had wiped them from all other accounts.

“Kyoya…” Your voice was chilled and rough, this was the first time you had said his name in days. “What…why are these on here?”

There was silence on his end, causing you to flick your eyelids up to see him completely ignoring you and writing something in his notebook.

“Kyoya.” You try again, more firmly. Spinning the computer his way, you enhance the image. “What the hell are these doing here?”

Still no response. He instead flips a page and begins walking around the table the computer is perched on and out of your path.

But you stop him.

Your frustration flames and you’re in front of him in minutes, ripping his book from his fingers. That gets his attention.

His eyes meet yours for the first time in what feels like centuries, and apparently that time had erased any warmth those eyes once held for you. Now, his gaze is piercing, the gray that used to represent a calm fog sculpted into a thunderstorm.

“Give it back, (Y/n).” Even the way he said your name was strained, every syllable stretched and unnatural.

“Not until I get an answer.” With his journal tucked neatly to your side, you harshly point to the computer screen. “Why are those pictures on there? You know those are not meant to be public. They were just for you.”

“They’re optimal items to sell. Anything that can humanize our hosts is extremely valuable to our guests, which I shouldn’t have to explain to you.” The muscles in jaw pulses, and you heave a breath at the superiority in his voice.

“You were the only person with those copies, and I asked you to never share those with anyone. You knew how embarrassing, how personal my life can be, and you said you would keep them to yourself. You promised-”

“I never promised anything.”

“Please.” You rolled your eyes. “You were so proud to have those pictures, and you just gave them away like that? What were you thinking?”

“I no longer have a reason to keep those pictures in my possession. They were taking up space in my books, and I needed to make room.”

You scoffed, emotion blocking your larynx. “For what?”

“For more important matters.”

The room was so quiet, you were sure everyone heard your heart break.

Your grip on the leather material of his black booklet tightened, and your chest stuttered. But you held your ground. Once again, you knew that if you let your emotions take over, they would never stop, and you just had to get yourself together. Yanking the booklet from under your arm, you slammed it so hard into his chest as you walked past him, you heard him grunt as he caught his balance.

“Hope it was worth it.” You breathed, willing your voice not to crack.

You stormed towards the entrance, only to be blocked by glowing blonde hair.

“Oh, you poor thing. I can’t believe they’ve been deceiving you.” Chizuru whines, sympathy potent in her voice as she wraps her form around you.

Before you can snap at her, Beniobara comes around and pulls her off of you, her strong hands on the younger one’s shoulders. “Give her a moment, Chizuru, both of these young maidens have had quite a day.”

Benio leads the three of her girls towards the doors, which blow open dramatically on their own somehow. “We will give you both some time to think about it, and will be back tomorrow for your answer. Adieu, Host Club.” Waving with the grace of a queen, the Zuka Club disappears around the corner, leaving the aftermath of their intrusion unattended.

The safety of the hallway is too tempting this time, and your feet make their way towards your exit before you can even think twice.

“Wait, (N/n)-chan-” Honey’s voice calls for you, but you just call over your shoulder.

“I have to go. I have some thinking to do.” You say, voice low but reinforced as it echoes across the pink walls of the host club.

The host's watch with concerned gazes as your figure disappears, Haruhi’s lips settling into a line.

“Yeah, I better head out too.” She says, but Tamaki’s hand shoots out to grab her shoulder.

“Wait, Haruhi, we’re sorry! It’s not like we were hiding it from you, you can have my pencil!” He whines, and he holds out his own mechanical pencil, a small teddy bear taking the place of the eraser.

“I don’t want your pencil, Senpai. You boys can’t just go doing whatever you want, whenever you feel like it.” She says, turning around and taking a turn out of the Music Room.

Suddenly, Tamaki’s sad whimper turned into a growl as he whipped around, his gaze targeting a certain megane.

“What have you done, you stupid man! You just added fuel to the fire!”

“Facts are the facts, Tamaki.” Kyoya breathes, boredom flowing into his tone as he perches his glasses on his nose. “If they can’t handle a few inconveniences, then they’ll have to deal with it themselves. They’re smart.”

“But they’re not made of steel.” Hikaru said, folding his arms as he went to Tamaki’s side. “How could you do that to (Y/n)?”

“Please, she’s fine. She just needs to blow off some steam-”

“She is not fine.” Kaoru explains, less aggressive than his brother but still fiery. “She hasn’t been for days.”

“And Haruhi is already indifferent, but we know she tends to favor men’s clothing, and she said that getting fussed over by a bunch of girls might not be that bad.” Honey said, worry etching into his features.

“And we know (Y/n) loves us, but how long is she supposed to deal with Kyoya icing her out?” Tamaki expresses, jabbing a finger into his best friend’s chest.

“I am not icing her out. We are simply not speaking until she apologizes for what happened on the beach. She knows this.”

“She already apologized, you dimwit! She came crying to me with a cut on her leg about how bad she was feeling!”

“Yeah!” The twins agreed. “At dinner, she said she felt bad…”

“I haven’t heard any of this from her.” Kyoya stated, feeling a pit grow in his chest. You had apologized to everyone but him? That thought shouldn’t have stung as much as it did.

“No, no, I pushed her out of the room and she was definitely on her way to you.” Tamaki insisted, his anger diffusing into hot confusion. “She didn’t talk to you?”

“No, she didn’t.” His words were a lot shorter than he had meant them to be, but Kyoya was done hearing about how little you thought of your relationship with him. How you had put him so low on your list of priorities, pushed him aside like everyone else in his life.

“You should talk to her.” Mori’s voice added a base to the confused mumbles that rumbled through the club room.

“I will not.” Kyoya almost scoffed. “She is the one who needs to apologize, as she is the one in the wrong.”

“You both are!” Hikaru emphasized, getting into Kyoya’s face. “You’re both so fucking stubborn, neither of you see how much you’re affecting the other.”

“Her behavior has not affected me in the slightest-”

“Oh, give us a break!” Hikaru was about to give Kyoya a piece of his mind before Kaoru took over, pulling his brother back to his side and shushing him.

“Give it up, Hikaru, he won’t listen to us.”

Tamaki leveled his gaze with the Ootori son. “Do you want Haruhi to leave the club, Kyoya?”

“She can’t. Her debt is too substantial to pay back within such a small time frame-”

“Lobelia academy could easily pay her debt off, Kyoya-senpai.” Kaoru said, both brothers seething at him.

“Well, it would be…unfortunate, if she was to go, but if that was what she wanted-”

“What about (Y/n), then?” Tamaki interrupted him. “Do you want her to leave this club? This school?”

Kyoya paused, his gaze snapping to Tamaki. “She isn’t going to leave over something as little as this. She loves the Host Club.”

“She loves this club because of us. Because of you.” Hikaru says, his voice grumbly.

“What happens if that goes away?” Kaoru adds. “Does (Y/n) think so little of herself that she would just take the rude comments and invasions of privacy?”

“That is not what I-”

“Stop being mean, Kyo-chan.” Honey warns, his face crumpled into a scary pout. “It’s hurting her feelings.”

“She’s thinking of leaving the club, Kyoya. I can tell.” Tamaki’s mouth twists, as if he is so uncomfortable with that fact, that it makes him squirm inside his own skin.

The megane stops talking, and the boys can tell that he is registering their words. Slowly, he takes off his glasses and wipes them with the tail of his shirt, taking a deep breath.

“I won’t be apologizing. This kind of thing needs to be worked out between the two of us, without any interference from any of you. It will be resolved within its own time.” The hosts deflate as Kyoya works on a stubborn smudge within his lens, and Hikaru is about to step forward and give him another piece of his mind before Kyoya speaks up again.

“However, you’re right. (Y/n)’s services have brought in a great number of guests, and therefore income, to this club, and it would be a loss to let her leave without some effort.”

Kyoya picks up his glasses and gently places them back on the ridge of his nose, the light catching onto the frames. “What can I do to help?”

Tamaki just sighs, rolling his violet eyes. “It’s not enough, but I’ll take it.” Clapping his palms, he brings his friends into a huddle, his leadership skills beginning to shine.

“Listen up gentlemen, we will keep our ladies no matter what! It will be alright. If you listen to me, I have come up with a plan!”

Bunkyo’s city streets bustled with noise. Footsteps falling on the sidewalk, voices calling over car horns and barking dogs. But nothing was louder than your thoughts. You had long dried your tears, and after sitting in the rose maze for a little while, you were able to collect your thoughts.

You picked yourself from that gazebo, feeling lonely in the absence of someone beside you, and decided to treat yourself to a pastry from a favorite cafe. You need support from yourself now more than ever.

Everything had become clear at that moment. You didn’t mean anything to Kyoya anymore. You were simply one of his acquaintances that he kept arm’s length, offering them fake smiles and short words. And how were you supposed to work in the club like that? Without the warm glances and small touches? Without the words of encouragement, the quiet nights of working in each other’s space?

How could you sit back and watch as Haruhi took your place?

You cursed your lip as it trembled, and you looked up at the sky to keep your tears at bay. You didn’t want to cry anymore, you just wanted it to be over.

But just as you were about to walk into the cafe, you collided with a torso longer than your entire body, and you gasped as hot, hot coffee drenched your school uniform. Flinging back, you peeled the wet fabric off your torso, cringing at how the brown color stained the pristine, white cotton. Dropping your shoulders, you were about to confront this long torso, or at least whine at them while you suppress your second breakdown of the day, before you see the head attached to it.

“Oh my god, oh no, (L/n)? God, I am so sorry!” Brown eyes scan over your form in worry, and before you can protest, Arai is shoving his long brown jacket off his shoulders and shoving it into your arms. “Clean it with this! They’re the same color anyway. Dab the stain, don’t rub it in, it will just make it worse.”

He tries to do it himself as he scrambles out more apologies, but then he realizes that he is dabbing too close to your chest and immediately throws the jacket at you. “Oh god, sorry! I didn’t mean-I mean, I was just trying to help, because I didn’t see you! So I thought-”

“Dear god, Arai, calm down.” You clutch the jacket with one hand, the other extending to rest on his shoulder. And then you’re seeing his wild expression, worry and horror clear as day on his freckled face, and you’re laughing.

The noise lifts into the air, above the commotion of the city, and it feels good. You try to remember the last time you laughed like this, but it’s been too long, so you just decide to relish in the moment. And it feels even better when you hear a lower, quirky laugh join yours, and you see Arai’s shoulder’s bouncing in your peripheral vision.

“You’re okay.” You say, giggles still shuffling out of you as you grab the coat to wrap around your torso. “Although I don’t think the shirt can say the same.”

“I’m sorry, those shirts are so expensive.” Arai says, another wince rolling through his body. “You can keep the jacket until you get home. I know how bad your father can get with stains.”

“Oh my god, remember that time you came over when we were little? You tracked mud all over our floor and-”

“-and your dad nearly cussed out an eleven year-old? Yes, I remember. Unfortunately.” He smiles, and it’s big and wide and a little crooked, and his image solidifies a little more into the friend you had made way back when.

You both chuckle again before a silence falls over the two of you. Arai raises his eyes to yours, and suddenly you’re reminded that you’ve been crying all afternoon when his brown irises flood with concern.

You try to stop him from asking. “Oh no, I’m fi-”

“Are you alright? You look like you’ve been…” His arm reaches out for you, but you meet his hand half way and put it back by his side.

“I’m okay. I’ve had some time to think, so I’m alright now.” You reassure him, and he nods, thankfully dropping it.

“Okay, I’m glad.” There’s that smile again. “Were you heading inside?” The farmer asks, pointing a thumb at the door to the cafe.

“Yeah, actually. This place is my favorite.”

“Mine, too.” His whole face almost lights up, and he opens the door, waving you inside. “Wanna grab that cup of coffee you promised me earlier?” He raises his empty coffee cup. “Mine is empty for some reason.”

Another laugh bubbles out of you, and even if you are drenched, Arai’s energy is refreshing, and you don’t want to leave it just yet. “Sure. My treat.”

He shakes his head. “No can do. Not only will I pay for your dry-cleaning, but also your coffee- I mean, tea. Or something else. Whatever you want, because you just like the atmosphere.” He playfully mocks, and you roll your eyes, surprised he remembered that part of your conversation from a week ago.

Brushing past him, you walk into the cafe, Arai close on your heels. The door closes, muffling the chaotic rumblings of the outside world as whiffs of coffee grounds meet you. Warm, sparkling fairy lights swathed the ceilings, reflecting the natural sunlight streaming through the windows.

Soon, you both have ordered, your (f/h/d) in front of you as Arai’s lavender latte steams in front of him.

“Thank you for paying, you really didn’t have too.” You say, relishing the hot liquid that warms your throat.

“I really did, though. Your poor shirt.” Arai whines, his fingers running through his brown hair anxiously.

You laugh again, shaking your head to calm his nerves.

“It’s fine, god knows we have the money to replace it.”

“Especially if this deal goes through.” Arai says. “How have you been adjusting to the whole idea?”

You shrug, tracing the rim of your mug with your finger. “Fine. My parents have roped me into business deals before, but this is the first time they want me to be so…involved. No offense, but I think they might be using our friendship to get a better deal.”

The delivery boy just laughs. “I absolutely agree. But I’m not surprised. It seems to be my father’s tactic to get into business with my rich friend’s parents.”

“Really?” You scoff. “He’s done this before?”

“Mhmm. Twice actually. Your mom hasn’t pulled this act before?”

“Never forcefully. But I was always encouraged.”

“You know, that’s what I always liked about our friendship, way back when.” Arai noted, a sincere look in his eye. “Nothing forced us together, we just were.”

“Yeah.” Your breath catches in your throat when you think of the contrasting relationship you had with a certain Ootori. How it had all started with the proposal that merged Ootori Hospitals and (L/n) Tech. Would he even have talked to you if the proposal hadn’t been accepted? Would he have noticed you at all?

Something must’ve shown on your face, because you felt a slight pressure on your palm as Arai grasped your hand from across the table, that sweet look of worry creasing his brow.

“I, uh…” He pauses, the farmer sifting through his mind to find the right words. “I know you said that you were okay, but you don’t seem okay. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, no.” You squeeze his hand before pulling it away, choosing to warm your fingers with your drink. “I’m okay, really.”

“Sure.” He says, but you can tell that he isn’t going to give up because his brown eyes are still piercing through yours. “But, hypothetically, if there was something bothering you, you could talk to me. If you want to.”

You simper at him, sighing deeply. “Yeah, I appreciate that. I will if something comes up.”

But he wasn’t satisfied. “Because I know, hypothetically, if there was something bothering me-, I would definitely feel better talkin–”

“Arai.” You say, cutting him off a little harshly. Taking a breath, you lean forward a little, placing your cheek in your hand. “I’m good, I swear.”

“Right. Sorry, I just–” His hands wave around before they settle back onto his coffee cup. “I want to make sure you’re actually good.”

And that warms your heart to levels that your (f/h/d) couldn’t reach, and you tilt your head, studying the sincerity of his gaze. Maybe you could open up a little bit, just so he wouldn’t have that wounded puppy dog look on his face.

“Well, I guess there is one thing.” You say, picking at your fingernails. “I have a big presentation tomorrow that I’ve been working towards for a while.”

“Yeah? For what class?”

“Foundations of Marketing.” A nervous sigh escapes you as you realize just how close your deadline is. “We have to present an original product to a panel of mock-investors, and it’s an idea that I’ve had from the start of my highschool career.”

“If all goes well,” You continue, swallowing the butterflies in your throat. “These fake investors could take it to real investors. Which could mean the start of my own product launch.”

“Which would be…good, right?” Arai asks. “Why does it not sound good?”

“I’ve…been working on it with a partner.” You say, looking out the window to catch a couple holding hands strolling by. “We were on good terms at first, and we even worked well together. But, now, it’s not working out so well.”

“We’ve been in a fight recently, and, I don’t know. It’s making me question things.”

“What kind of things?”

You shrug, playing with the end of a sugar packet. You want to tell him, but you’re just not ready to be that open with someone you’ve just met. Instead, you skirt around it a little.

“Was it hard? Moving schools?”

Arai quirks an eyebrow up, but takes your change of subject in stride. He just leans back in his chair and blows out a breath.

“Yeah, I’d say it was rough at first. But it worked out in the end. Things always do.”

Taking a sip of his coffee, he met your gaze again. “Why? You want to change schools?”

“I don’t know what I want.” You groan, exasperated at the war going on in your head. “I’m just conflicted, I guess. So conflicted that…” A sigh breezes past your lips. “I talked to my mother earlier today, about finding a transfer application to Lobelia.”

An image runs across your mind of you in a Lobelia uniform, performing for the Zuka Club.

“Maybe I just need a fresh start.”

“(L/n).” You don’t look at him, but you show him your listening. “You’re happy at Ouran, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but things feel…different now. Ouran is the best high school in the area, but this project has just shown me that people who I thought cared about me might not anymore.”

You hear Arai tap his fingers on the table before he draws a breath. “You’re not going to let that stop you, though. Right?”

Your gaze whips back to him as he looks at you with so much apparent trust in your abilities, that it almost makes you double over.

“What do you mean?”

“(L/n), you have to be one of the most capable people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I mean, even when we were kids, you still had more raw, immeasurable talent in your eyelashes than most people do in their whole body.”

You shake your head. “That’s sweet, but–”

“But nothing. Anyone who is worth their salt will see that you are the true passion behind your project, no matter what this dimwit of a partner does.”

“Thank you, Arai. But you’ve only known me for a short amount of time, so-“

“Then it makes it even more obvious when I can already see that you deserve to feel happy in the high school you fought to be in.”

Shaking your head, you do your best to fight your smile, but you can’t. Instead, you’re almost glowing at him, and you bite the inside of your lip, trying to shove your blush down from your cheeks. Looking out the window, you try to think of something to say that could possibly match that, but Arai interrupts your thoughts again.

“You’re still doing that?”

Blinking, you turn back to look at him. “Doing what?”

“You used to bite your lip when you were anxious in school.” He says, taking a sip of his latte. “Looks like you didn’t grow out of it.”

Your lip falls from your teeth on instinct, a small blush running to your cheeks at being caught. “I’m surprised you noticed that, I barely even notice it myself half the time.” You chuckle sheepishly, looking into your mug. “I should probably break it, but-”

“No, don’t.” He says, shaking his head with that crooked smile of his. “It’s cute.”

Your lashes flick up to meet his, surprise evident on your features, and Arai blubbers when he realizes what he said.

“No, not like cute cute, you know? I mean, you-you are-wait, I meant, it’s not like you’re not–god! What I meant was that it’s sweet, and nothing’s wrong with it, and I should shut up before I say shit I regret.”

Arai groaned, letting his forehead fall onto the table. But your giggles made him pick his head back up.

“You think it’s funny?”

“I do.” You say, silencing your laughter with a sip of your drink. “I really do.”

“I’m glad my embarrassment is funny to you.”

“I promise, I have my fair share of embarrassing stories to share, if you stick around long enough.”

He gave you a long look then, his smirk growing wider. “I think I will.”

go on ahead to part 2 :)

this isn't proof read btw, haha

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