A/N: Okay, my first Ouran fanfic, and I'm so nervous. I love this anime/manga so much, I'd hate to spoil it. Well, here goes nothing!
THE HARUHIXTAMAKI MIXED TAPE
i.
Boys, you can break, find out how much they can take
And boys will be strong, and boys soldier on
But boys would be gone without warmth from
A woman's good, good heart
So fathers, be good to your daughters
When Tamaki was in the corner, pouting, he was thinking, too. Hard to believe for most of his cohorts, but it was true. Tamaki's brain was essentially a mess of romance, comedic relief, and harsh memories. But he used that noggin sometimes, and it was mostly to contemplate her.
Once, he spent the entire club activity crouching in the corner, growing mushrooms. Tamaki was really the best dad he knew how to be, but dammit, Haruhi was just not getting the picture. No matter what he did—buy her expensive gifts, sing songs to her, ply her with attention—Haruhi just did not receive his fatherly love well at all.
Haruhi came to fetch him afterwards, apologetically. "Sempai, it's time to go."
He twiddled his thumbs and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Can't you at least call me Daddy when you've hurt my feelings so?"
She sighed and crouched next to him. "Tamaki-sempai, you are not my father, and an apology is not going to change that."
He stood, and she followed him. But he was still pouting. He turned wide blue eyes on her and stuck out his lower lip. "Please?"
"No."
"Pretty, pretty please?"
"No, sempai."
"I'd do anything!"
"I don't want anything from you."
It was a strange thought; he had almost never contemplated it before. "Nothing?" he asked. "You don't want anything?"
A change came over Haruhi's eyes as suddenly as the change came in his voice. She frowned a little deeper. "No, sempai. What would I want?" She blinked, then a smile lifted her lips. "Friends don't want anything from each other, right?"
ii.
When you give all yourself away
Just tell them to be careful of your heart
"Tamaki-sempai, tell me something about you that I don't already know." She smiled at him, in good spirits.
"Well, Haruhi, since you asked, I am one of the most beautiful—"
"I knew that."
"Oh. Well, in that case, I am one of the richest—"
"Knew that also."
Tamaki was stumped for a second. "Well, what do you want to know, then?"
"What would you like to tell me?"
The blonde boy stopped a moment. She turned and looked at him, perplexed. His eyes were soft and a softer smile lay on his lips.
"I'll tell you about France, then," he said. He walked up next to her, and they continued. "France is my home, as you know." She nodded. "In France, the world is much more wild; it is a vibrant country, rich with art and language. At this time of year, they're probably getting ready for summer, too; in a French summer, I would be at the house with my mother." He paused.
"What was she like?" Haruhi pressed.
"My mother is the queen of my heart," he murmured, reverently. "I wish I could explain it to you."
Haruhi was silent a moment. She looked at him closely, with his blonde locks tossed by the wind and the far away look in his eyes, the naked yearning for his mother that cut straight to her own desires.
"I understand." He looked at her and saw it was true. There was a connection between them that neither had realized before.
iii.
Number forty-seven said to number three:
You're the cutest jailbird I ever did see
I sure would be delighted with your company
Come on and do the jailhouse rock with me
"Tamaki, you are such a fool," she groaned.
"Come out, Har-u-hi!" he cried, undaunted, from outside her dressing room.
In an effort to broaden the popularity of the Host Club, he decided they should A) make a music video, and B) appeal to American girls by doing Elvis. Haruhi sighed, and felt the pulse of a migraine coming on.
"Har-u-hi!" came his singsong voice, "You look so cute!"
She frowned and touched a curl self-consciously. She really did look more than adorable in her pink poodle skirt, with the saddle oxfords and 50's wrapped hair. The twins had outdone themselves, Tamaki had to admit. The rest of the Hosts were wearing Elvis' black jeans, black jacket, and striped t shirt. Music Room #3 was decorated with (the original) set pieces from Elvis' "Jailhouse Rock" video. Again, Kyoya had flown over Hollywood's best directors to work alongside Renge in the process.
Tamaki had #47 tacked on the front of his shirt; the rest of them had assorted numbers as well. He held out #3: "Here, Haruhi, put this on! We'll get to do a beautiful father-daughter moment in the music video!"
She sighed, took the number, and mumbled something about him "not being her father," or other such nonsense. He merely smiled and tacked the number onto her outfit.
iv.
Oh, my soul has never had this feeling, and it feels like gold
You got so much love in you, You got so much love in you
I'm amazed that I'm talkin' to you
You look like the songs that I've heard my whole life coming true
By the gods, she was amazing. Tamaki could not help but glance over every two seconds when she was hosting; she was always laughing or smiling or serving tea in the most gentle, attractive manner. She really was a natural. The way the other girls swooned over her…
Ugh.
That was the worst part. Tamaki's jealousy did not stop at the twins or Kyoya, but when other girls chose to look at his daughter like that, he got into knots and bundles inside. Why never entered his mind. She was his daughter, the end.
How did Haruhi know how to reach in and touch those girls? She was a girl, after all! She wasn't supposed to make them blush and stammer and want her that way. He listened closely.
"I was barely ten years old when I started walking to the grocery store by myself," she was saying. "My father, he works so hard, and all I wanted to make it a little easier for him."
He felt a blush rise on his own cheeks just as the girls swooned and cried, "Haruhi! That's so precious!"
Haruhi merely chuckled and said, "Oh, no. What's precious is you girls, with your big dreams. I want you to always be happy."
Oh. That was how she did it.
"Haruhi, do you really believe that stuff you're saying?" Hikaru asked her after club activity. Apparently Tamaki wasn't the only one eavesdropping.
She looked surprised. "Of course." To their skeptical faces, she said, "Every girl wants to know that she's wonderful, and every girl is, no matter how silly (or rich). So I just tell them that. It's the truth."
Oh. That's it.
Damn, she's good.
v.
Can I just have one more moon dance with you, my love?
Can I just make some more romance with you, my love?
She was too much, really. The twins had outdone themselves. She was not wearing a wig this time, but she was in a pale pink dress gathered at her thin waist. Jeweled flowers were in her hair. She was magnificent.
Tamaki watched her all evening as the other girls gushed over her, as the twins each danced with her, as Kyoya, Honey, and Mori all got their chances with her. He stood still, like a stone, unable to move. The party was moving and laughing and flushing with pleasure, but he was unable to enjoy it. Tamaki stood outside in the moonlight on the balcony, feeling ill at ease.
"Tamaki-sempai?"
He looked at her in surprise over his shoulder. "Haruhi."
"Is something wrong? This is your party." He turned away, but she stood next to him. She glared. "Well?"
He looked down at her, with her big brown eyes, pouting lips, and that lock of hair that was just barely in her eyes.
"I would have my way with you," he blurted. He stopped, shamed.
She was equally unnerved.
"Sempai?" She was rarely so hesitant, and she blushed.
There was something sweet as peaches and honey in that blush. Did she know? Did she know that he shook, shivered, felt cold and hot, when her face glowed like so?
She could not know.
It was too easy, much too easy, for him to reach out, like a child, and touch that soft, warm cheek. Too easy to lean forward and kiss it gently, as if it were a little bird. Too easy to keep kissing it, when her cheek burned even more, and she trembled like a virgin under his touch.
"My princess," he murmured.
"You say that a lot," Haruhi replied irreverently.
"Do I?" He was genuinely surprised. He forgot that he was a Host, that he was anything or anybody at all, when she let him touch her like this.
"Yes," and her face pulled away.
Tamaki glimpsed some misgiving in her eyes. But her face still had that delicious blush. He ran a thumb over it and smiled naturally, without feigning prince or fantasy just to please her. She did not miss the change.
"Let's dance," he said, and all the awkwardness melted away.
vi.
If I was a flower growing wild and free
All I'd want is you to be my sweet honey bee
And if I was a tree growing tall and green
All I'd want is you to shade me and be my leaves
"Happy Valentine's Day, Haruhi!" Tamaki sang out. Tamaki never seemed to scream or to shout; he sang."Happy Valentine's Day, sempai," she greeted before setting down her books.
"You ready to go get our chocolates?" the twins asked in unison.
She yawned and shrugged. "Guess so."
Honey-sempai trotted to the doors and threw open Music Room #3—a storm of girls erupted into the room. Kyoya took up a microphone and began speaking, his voice soothing the agitated crowd.
"Alright ladies, settle down. We'll commence presently. Please order into lines by the tables you see here. Each host has his own table, complete with tea and cakes. If you are prepared to offer your chocolates and affection to them, please select your host and assemble in the line appropriate. We thank you for your adoration and cooperation." And Kyoya made a low, elegant bow. "Also, if you are interested in the special Valentine's Day addition of Hot Club photos, please see me directly after club activity ends today."
Haruhi rolled her eyes before turning her attention to the girl sitting at her table with big hearts for eyes. When Haruhi smiled and offered her tea, she stammered and a blush crept onto her girlish cheeks. "My name is—Mika," she murmured, "and I—I'd like to offer you this!" She thrust out a box wrapped in pink ribbon before fleeing the room in embarrassment. Haruhi barely had time to pocket the gift before the next girl thrust herself into the seat across from her.
Tamaki watched the scene with something like amusement in his eyes; he had his own surprise for his fellow host later.
After club activity was over, the last girl appeased and thanked for her love, Kyoya tallied up the results on his notepad with a satisfied smile. "We sold out of photos," he told them, "and our records hit an all-time high for attendance."
Haruhi sighed and gathered her things, sore and reluctant to do her nightly hours of homework after listening to hours of confessions. "Alright, well, good night guys. See you tomorrow." She headed for the door, where Tamaki apprehended her.
"Shall I give you a ride home, Haruhi?"
She was too tired to protest. "Sure."
In the care, they were quiet, she with weariness, and he with anticipation. When they arrived, he walked her to the door with the silence of a nervous lover. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, but was unprepared to ask. She took out her keys ad unlocked the door—
Her father was sneezing in the kitchen, complaining to himself.
The whole apartment was full of flowers of all kinds: gardenias, tulips, daisies, liles, orchids, cherry blossoms, and roses, roses, roses. The place looked even smaller now, crammed with blooming flowers to the gills. Every bouquet had a tag—"For Haruhi, from Tamaki," a humble, tasteful little tag with a white ribbon. The blonde watched her face for her response.
Haruhi's eyes were soft, dimmed, and her cheeks a luscious pink, when she turned, slowly, to look up at him. She opened her mouth to speak—and sneezed, loud and harsh. He was taken aback, completely startled.
"S-sorry, sempai," she wiped her nose. She stepped inside and put down her bags, then came back to the door. "I'm kind of allergic to some of these."
Poor thing, he just could not win.
vii.
I'll put a spell on you, you'll fall asleep,
I'll put a spell on you, and when I wake you
I'll be the first thing you see,
And you'll realize that you love me
She fell asleep one day in Music Room #3.
Stretched out on the couch, a book on her stomach, long legs crossed girlish at the ankles. Haruhi was most graceful like this, with her eyes closed in repose, and her white little hands clutching the book loosely.
Tamaki sat across from her, completely rapt at the picture. He wanted to try to paint her, lying like a slumbering princess on the couch, as lazy and real as a cat, like something out of one of his shoujo manga. Her hair was mussed and a little curly from the pillow, and her breathing was slow and deep.
Oh, God, how he loved her. Like an extension of himself that he could not do without; like a limb, out in the world crawling around without the rest of its body.
She stirred: he felt some place inside of him stir also.
He wished she would wake and dreaded her waking. When she woke, she would smile and move and look around with those big, soulful eyes, and he would have an ethereal reason for loving her. But when she woke, she would also leave, go home, go to the store, go to her homework. She would become inaccessible. If she lied there forever, he could just look at her. He could delve into the physical attraction he held for her; for the tight little lithe body, as slim and boyish as it was, with soft skin that was healthy and earthy, covering a sweet little ribcage he wanted to tickle till it trembled.
What would she say, if she woke and he was sitting there, staring? Would she disturbed, embarrassed, annoyed?
"Why didn't you wake me?" she might ask. Or she'd just yawn and sit up and greet him, as casually as talking about the weather.
Why don't you see me as a man! He wanted to know. Every girl saw him that way; not Haruhi. She was a different creature entirely, and he wanted desperately to master her moods and to capture her attention.
He vowed that day—he would, he would take her up all for himself. Watch out, Haruhi! I'm going to steal your heart!
Tamaki sat idly by, watching her sleep. But not yet, he thought. I just want to enjoy you.
A/N: and there you have it! R&R, son, if you want to see me do more of this fandom :D
SONG selection: "Daughters," John Mayer; "Be Careful of My Heart," Tracy Chapman; "Jailhouse Rock," Elvis Presley; "So Much Love," The Rocket Summer; "Moondance," Michael Buble; "All I Want is You," Barry Louis Polisar; "Strange and Beautiful," Aqualung