Ouran Academy. The one place where you can simultaneously be the biggest asshole on the planet, whilst masquerading as an innocently well-adjusted human being with a complete grasp of what it means to be a financial advocate or complete figurehead for meaningless family wealth.
Basically; it's a hoity-toity private school—one that keeps one of the biggest and most deplorable secrets of all mankind within its walls and sneaks it away so that it can never see the light of day. This with such vehemence that up until one fateful day, nobody but a long-deceased faculty member knew that it was something that existed within the mountains of contractual formality and paperwork that was handwritten out by Siberian monks in ancient calligraphical fonts that only people with unlimited money had the time to acquire for their pages and pages of shit that nobody was going to read anyway.
This secret… this one little detail wouldn't have meant much if nobody had ever found out about it—and perhaps they wouldn't have, if one scholarship student had resisted her sarcastic uttering of a Host Club ruining her life by forcing her to go and run errands for them during her trip to the local, commoner supermarket. Because one over-enthusiastic, proud mother happened to overhear and immediately set her heart on this club. Hosts? What better way to advertise to the attention of her daughter, the importance of men in her over-game-stimulated lesbian otaku phase? Surely with enough butting into the school system and shaking out every commoner loophole she could find, she'd be able to have her daughter attend such a prestigious school. Unfortunately for her, the role of scholarship student was already taken, and even though her own next of kin was ALREADY a scholarship student at a completely different rich-people school, it wouldn't do jack to get her in.
So after days and days with a magnifying glass and asstons of steaming, bitter coffee, she managed to find it—right there in the contract.
'With a letter of recommendation from another private academy, students of an extracurricular club can apply for a six-month transfer program if they A) have enough members and B) are approved by the Headmaster of Ouran Academy.'
Happy coincidence proved the headmasters of both schools to be well-acquainted, and without much prompting nor questioning of the educational value put forth in such an act, approved the notion in about an hour and two bottles of ancient, probably cursed, rich-people sake.
And with that, five members of a hastily put-together Fiction Club ended up roped into sudden attendance at Ouran Academy. With which came the devastating humiliation accompanying the looks and side-comments from the actual students attending the academy at the sight of eight young students in completely different uniforms to them.
Of course, not all of the members of the Fiction Club were well-acquainted prior to the transfer, nor had any particular interest in fiction, itself. For example…
Third year students Sophia Nakata and Monaka Takaki were both forced into the clutches of the Fiction Club due to the fact that no other clubs would accept their applications. Sophia, being a cold-blooded narcissist with zero cares about anybody's opinion was recently kicked out of the sewing club for threatening to cut off valuable parts of other club members' bodies and setting people's clothes on fire in the middle of the hallway… whilst they were still being worn.
Monaka Takaki was, to quote the yearbook, 'just unliked by everyone, &^%$ing loser.' See, despite the closeness of the headmasters, the school held a very silent, very angry vendetta against students of Ouran Academy. Monaka had attended elementary school at Ouran, and transferred out in junior high. And on top of that, her boyfriend was a heck. An actual, literal prince, but a heck. AND an Ouran student. As a result, Monaka = loser.
The second years were Mamoru and Takashi Suzumura and Ayako Hatori. Identical twin cliche, right? Well, yeah. See, only one of them seems to give a flying frappe about fiction at all. Takashi Suzumura was an emotional trainwreck of a library dweller, and his older brother Mamoru was a spirit medium that hated just about everybody and everything. Ayako Hatori, the daughter of the woman who made all of this possible, had a thing for rhythm games, rainbow colors, and junk food. Despite being a scholarship student, her booksmarts… well… they weren't hers at all. In fact, in order to even get into the school (on a bet), Ayako had the only nerd she knew at the time, Yukiteru Yuki to take her entrance exam for her. Yes, this meant dressing up a four-foot-six boy with an eyepatch up as herself- much protest was involved. So, one exam, rainbow socks and really, really high heels later, she was in, and Yukiteru Yuki was released from his dungeon of despair. (Temporarily.)
Chiharu Chiba and Yumi Itame, the first years, were about as opposite as opposites could get. Personality-wise, anyway. See, Chiharu was a literal ray of sunshine and perfection, too bright for anybody's eyes to handle- and Yumi? Well. She was a heck. With Yumi in the Fiction Club, her older sister, Shiori was pretty much guaranteed to tag along, as well.
Shiori Itame, third year and… well… special in her own right. Nobody knew why she was that way- although some theorised. Some said that she was just born with it, others say that it was a direct result of mysterious childhood assassination attempts on her, since somebody that's been pushed down the stairs that many times could never have had a well-functioning mind.
She was in a state of perpetual… Shiori-ness; a word which could only be used to describe a person, who, if you were to enter their mind, you would find nothing but the Nyan-Cat Song and a donut-man doing ballerina twirls.
And that was exactly what was going on in her thoughts as she entered the third music room. She wasn't even sure what in particular she was looking for or what led her there in the first place. Sure enough, though, there she was, in all of her Shiori-ness. Upon entering, the first thing she noticed was the group of boys inside. Particularly a tall, blonde-haired one.
"Phillip!" her voice was loud, shrill and filled with unending excitement. Without warning, she came flying towards the boy, trapping him in what was possibly the tightest hug he'd ever received in his life. "I was hoping I'd see you soon! I've missed you soooo, so so so much!"
She hadn't really taken a very close look at exactly who she was hugging - she didn't take a very close look at anything, most of the time.
The twins, Hikaru and Kaoru were shrieking, Kyouya had that weird glasses tint. Mori was…
-and Hani was working out how to make the perfect 'O' shape with his mouth in reaction to the situation. Tamaki? Well… what was he supposed to do? Some crazy pink girl just pounced on him and called him Phillip.
"Ahhhh-" Putting her down, putting her down. "Young lady, I'm not sure you've got the right person there, but-" and just as he was about to launch into a cheesy line about how he could replace this Phillip character, Shiori pushed off him and with a completely enthused tone, yelled,
"This special phone you gave me to text you back on doesn't work!"
There, being waved in front of Tamaki Suoh's face was a clear, plastic phone-shaped candy dispenser, with all of the candy still in there. Yes, she clearly hadn't figured out how to get them out, yet. "I don't think it's a real phone at all!"
"..." Suoh, with absolutely no idea how to react, simply picked up the candy phone with great interest and gave it a small shake. "What is this contraption?"
"Huh?" The Twins were there in an instant, too, looking over his shoulder at the thing. "Maybe it's a model phone or something?" Kaoru suggested, to which Hikaru squinted.
"What's with the shapes inside?"
"It looks like candy!" Thanks, Hani. "But… how do we get it out?"
Shiori gave a hum, staring blankly at the candy phone… and then ripped it from the clutches of Suoh with a battle cry and smashed it down against the floor so hard that four or more hosts there actually yelped in surprise.
"SHE'S CRAZY!" Kaoru shouted.
"WE'RE NEXT!" Hikaru added.
"MOMMYYYYYYY!" Came the pathetic sob-whine of a certain princely character, scuttling back toward Kyouya with a series of high-pitched dog whimpers.
"Hey, wait!" Hani leaned over, gazing at the candy leaking onto the floor from a small, fresh crack on the phone with a curious expression. "She got it out!" And then he promptly crouched over to pick it off the ground for himself.
"Mitsukuni, don't eat that." Mori muttered, picking the small bunny-obsessed creature from the ground and lifting him above his head.
Shiori stared at the now-cracked plastic phone. She clearly hadn't thought this through. One could probably get more candy out of it, though, if they tried.
"Oh no.." She was suddenly teary-eyed. "I broke the special phone Phillip gave me! He's going to be so maaaad at meeee…"
Hikaru, Kaoru and Tamaki, who had all acquired their handkerchiefs, were now sobbing along with the story. They had no idea who Phillip was, but…
"THAT'S SO SAD!"
"WE'LL HELP YOU!" And that's how four people; one pink-haired Shiori, identical twins and Tamaki Suoh ended up crouched over a plastic candy-phone with a bottle of superglue that they pulled out of who-knows-where.
"As touching as it is that you're so eager to help a stranger, we still have no idea who she is." Kyouya, writing in his little black book, as per usual. "Though, this Phillip that you've been mentioning, you don't happen to mean Prince Phillip Amadeus Achtung IV, do you?"
Shiori sat up.
"Yes, that's right! That's him! He's my ex-boyfriend! -And also we're best friends." No, they were not.
"Wait, you mean an actual prince attends this school?" Tamaki asked, giving Kyouya a questioning side-glance.
"Well, yes. This is Ouran Academy, after all. Are you really so surprised?" Ootori hummed, pushing up his glasses. "Though as far as information I have regarding his love life, it is of popular opinion that he's been dating a third-year from another private academy not too far away from here. -And by the looks of that uniform, this new guest of ours seems to be from there, also."
"We know him!" Hani announced, floor-candy cracking between his teeth. "We don't really talk to him much, though… he's pretty scary."
"Yeah." Mori added.
"Scary? No, he's not scary at all! He broke my wrist once and stabbed me in the shoulder! It was the best thing in the world! He was so considerate, he made sure that I wouldn't bleed out~ and he even visited me in the hospital!" Yeah, to tell her to keep her mouth shut about it.
"That's awful…!" Tamaki commented.
"Mm, Tama-chan, that's not the worst of it…" Hani started. "Phi-chan's a bully."
"No, Hani-senpai, we're pretty sure that wasn't worse news than the stabbing."
"Yeah, in comparison, that's actually pretty miniscule." Hikaru and Kaoru both waved it off, flatly.
"What's going on in here?" Haruhi Fujioka, basically the unknowing instigator of every slice of bullshit to come, happened to re-enter the room at that moment with a fresh tray of tea in her hands.
"Ah! Haruhi, just in time!" Tamaki yelled, standing up immediately in order to pull her in by the shoulders, a gesture which was clearly not at all appreciated, going by the flat look of disapproval being shot his way. "From now on, you are banned from princes!"
"Princes? What are you getting at, Tamaki-senpai?" Haruhi then squinted, "And don't you consider yourself a prince?"
"No, no, no! My dear Haruhi, you see- I'm a princely character, see? It's totally different!" Sweating through his words. He forgot about that.
"What's the difference?" Another Haruhi mutter, proceeded by her attention gathering at the door. At which, stood a short girl who looked mildly annoyed.
"I told you not to run off, Shiori." A sigh. Having to keep watch over her older sister tended to get tiring. Usually, Yumi would leave Shiori to her own devices - it was just easier, really - but being at a new school, she didn't trust her enough to not get into trouble. Or end up hospitalized. "Did she interrupt?"
Blinkblink all around, everybody gazing at Tamaki expectantly for a moment, before he actually remembered that he was the leader, there. He stepped forward, placing a hand over his heart.
"Not at all. We were just helping her with this phone model."
"I broke it!" Shiori announced.
A white rose seemed to emerge from the King's pocket, and half a prance-step later, Tamaki was at Yumi's feet in some kind of semi-bow, holding out the rose.
"Are you perhaps… a new guest here, also, my delicate lady?"
"Yes." She guessed she might as well take the flower. No point in making him bow forever. (But, seeing people bow to her was kind of great. Yes. Fuel her ego.) "I see you've met my sister."
"...Your… sister?" That was about five out of seven hosts at the one time. Tamaki smiled.
"I see, so you were just looking out for your younger sister, then. How sweet."
"Older sister," Yumi corrected.
"Wait, so… you're telling us," Kaoru began,
"That this pink ball of obliviousness is…?" Hikaru continued…
"Your OLDER sister?" Ah, unison. The trademark of weirdly intimate twins. Both stood there with a look of surprise that was shared by most of their fellow club members. As Yumi looked between them, all that she could see was this replicated blank stare, that she figured, must have originated with the alpha and spread out to the lesser members of the pack. Then again, the more she looked upon them, the more it seemed like there was no real alpha, just a bunch of relatively simple-minded pretty boys standing around with bouquets of roses stashed into their pants at the ready. Did they really pose in front of the door in preparation for literally anybody to walk through?
Why?, she thought, what purpose does this serve?
"Yes." She was unfazed by their surprise. Shiori really didn't act her age, after all. "She's a third-year, and I'm a first-year." Pretty simple explanation, she thought. Apparently, though, the repetition of her statement only managed to drop their jaws further. The leader, Suoh, seemed to have a skill for dislocating the entire lower-half of his face in order to perfect this look.
Actually, now that she was looking at everybody here, Shiori probably fit in perfectly. Maybe she could just leave her there. Give her a bowl with some water or something and pick her up at night. Like a free day care for idiots, run by idiots.
"...Ah, I see. So you're Miss Itame, correct? From the group of recent transfer students. Now this is all starting to make sense to me." Kyouya seemed to nod to himself, continuing to write in his book like he was developing some convoluted fanfiction plotline.
"Yes, that's correct. And you're all the Host Club?" She'd done a lot of research beforehand, and the notorious Ouran Host Club was mentioned in all fifty-three intricate fucking social corners of hoity-toity land. "Tamaki Suoh, Kyouya Ootori, Hikaru and Kaoru Hitachiin, Takashi Morinozuka, Mitsukuni Haninozuka, and Haruhi Fujioka." A sickeningly sweet smile, and a small curtsey. "Yumi Itame, of the Fiction Club."
Shiori tilted her head, "Oh, what? I thought it was the 'stalk the tiny eyepatch guy' club."
Yumi ignored her.
"It would be greatly appreciated if you would return her to us when you're done. We're in the room beside the second auditorium."
Hikaru shook his head, "Wait, we're not- ...oh okay. She's... already gone."
"Wait a minute-!" Tamaki made a run for the doors, only to find the corridor completely empty by the time he reached them. "...Where'd she go?"
"Maybe if you guys didn't have such big rooms, you'd be able to to get to the door easier, Senpai." Haruhi said.
Shiori, by this this point, had stood up to twirl around the room.
"But they're big enough that I have room to do this! If I squint at the roof while spinning like this, it looks kind-of orange, and that's very important! Can you imagine not being able to see ORANGE?! It's such a pretty color! But not as pretty as red! Red's my faaavorite!"
Hikaru sighed, "Somebody take her back t-"
"No, wait! My favorite color is glitter!"
He waited another moment for her, just to make sure she was finished and wouldn't interrupt him again. "...back to her club room."