Disclaimer: I don't own Ouran High school Host club.
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Prologue
Have you ever seen a tightly knit group of friends before? The kind that says that they're not against talking to other people, but they wouldn't really go out venturing to meet new friends. They have an aura about them, and it's not a 'back off' aura. It's more of a 'we're not open to new members at this time' feeling.
The host club pretty much fits this description. Try as you might to get in, hardly anyone was successful. They had to pull you into the group of friends, as it is with most popular groups. They weren't mean, they were approachable, nice, and fun.
But there was still a wall.
The wall separated everyone else from them, and whether the wall is intentional or not, it's still always there.
Everyone felt it, but no one talked about it.
For an entire year I watched from afar as they joked, laughed, and chatted amongst themselves. I had placed some appointments with them, in an effort to try and see a little into their dynamics, but only succeeded in making myself feel terribly lonely.
I could see how they saw me. A little outsider they let in temporarily to put a show on for. They would talk to me for the allotted time, smile, and charm.
That's not what I wanted.
I wanted to be a thread of importance in the tapestry of their indestructible cloth, which at the time seemed entirely impossible.
Until Fujioka Haruhi.
A metaphorical chink in the tapestry. A green sapling just then settling it's roots into the soil where tall dark wooden oaks had already firmly intertwined into each other beneath the ground.
It was perhaps immoral to use him as a stepping stone, but it was hardly as if I would be hurting anyone by doing so. And that was the initial plan, but then another problem reared it's ugly bulbous head.
Making friends with Fujioka proved extremely difficult when he treated everyone with respect and politeness in equal measures. And it seemed that even female advances from classmates went either ignored or unacknowledged.
If I wanted to get close to the scholarship student, I would have to take subtle, yet drastic measures.
Starting with an investigation.
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AN: I am kind of disoriented from a severe lack of sleep, but I still wrote this anyway. Because of the shit I see 13 year old's write... no offense, 13 year olds. I am so tired, ignore what I'm saying.
