It was by-far the strangest sight the youngest Ohtori son had ever seen. And that is saying something, considering who he hangs out with, and the club he runs, and who his best friend happens to be. He hung out with a four-foot senior blonde who had an obsession with strawberry cakes, flowers floated around his head, he carried a stuffed bunny named bun-bun with him, and for some reason he was a master at martial arts; a gigantic kendo-champion who rarely spoke and thought it his life-duty to protect the small one; a commoner girl who he had trapped into cross-dressing and working in their little club; a pair of devilish twins who falsely flirted with each other to make young girls squeal and faint; and his King, a narcissistic, commoner-obsessed, random, egotistical, childish, emotional eurojapanian. He was vice-president of Ouran Toney High school Host Club and ran its financials and managed just about everything else. And his best friend is the eurojapanian, Tamaki Suoh. And compared to all of that, and all of their crazy "adventures", this was the strangest thing he had ever seen.

He was casually walking around the third library after school that day, attempting to find a specific book in the medical section, when he came upon this bizarre sight. It was an average February afternoon at the school, people out front attempting to get in their limos to hurry off for valentines shopping. Kyouya's attention was focused in between the shelves that held the most recent medical journals, and there she was. She was sitting down at one of the desks that had been tucked away behind the shelves in a little corner, hiding her from sight. She was wearing baggy hot-pink drawstring pajama pants with black stitching that pooled around her ankles and hung low on her hips, and a black, tight, T-shirt that accentuated her curves. It wasn't really surprising that she had changed clothing, a lot of the girls here did after school had been let out, but it was what she was wearing, what clothed her curvaceous body, and the fact that she was barefoot, calloused feet soundlessly hitting the ground as she moved. She had long, wavy black hair that seemed to be an endless obsidian in the dull light, tied up in a high pony-tail that rested on the back of her head, with escaped strands carelessly tucked behind her small ears. Her dark hair was tinged at the roots, and finely cut ends, a bright neon-green. She had a stubborn jaw, high cheekbones, thick, pale albino skin, and an average body. Her nose was strong and prominent, her eyes evenly placed, her brow pulled together in annoyance.

She was kneeling on the floor, hands on a keyboard, surrounded by several medical journals about rare diseases in South America, Chili to be specific, a black and silver gateway laptop open in front of her with a windows writing document filled with words. It looked like a report from here, though he was not aware of any medical assignments in any of the classes. She had large headphones over her head, the traditional ones commoners went wacko over, the wire connected to the laptop. She was head banging as she read from a book about a plague in Chili. She was mouthing the words to the song as her hair flew with her movements, yet it was smooth, measured enough that she could read. Her uniform was hanging out of a bag on the floor, a black backpack with a bunch of strange creatures painted onto it and bold letters that read "chopz".

It was the oddest sight he had ever seen in Ouran. He wasn't sure if he should be insulted, or laugh, or be confused. Haruhi was the only scholarship student, but he wasn't quite aware of anyone acting like this in the school before…

Oh no. He mentally cursed himself.

Was this thing the girl his father had said would be attending the school soon, and he wanted him to befriend it?!

Kyouya was about to walk away, when, before he could even react, the headphones were around her neck, the music blaring out at a level that couldn't be healthy, and wide black eyes with red specks that were obvious contacts stared up at him curiously. She didn't speak, she just looked at him. She was significantly shorter than him. She was about an inch shorter than Haruhi, it seemed, barely taller than Hunny.

"Uh- Hello." He said as politely as he could, trying to hide his distaste. She just frowned, looking him up and down, then moved to circling him. He went rigid, feeling very uncomfortable. Suddenly, her eyes brightened.

"Perfect!" She cried, without another word, running straight to her backpack, she dug out a binder, dug out a set of notebooks, grabbed one, and whipped to a clean page. She suddenly groaned, looked at him, ran over, took his pen, and scribbled something in the papers. She then shoved everything messily back into the bag, and handed him his pen.

"Thank you." He nodded. Kyouya was now thoroughly freaked out, though he didn't show it. He had to go to the Host Club soon, but he couldn't find a book, until now. It happened to be lying in her stack of books.

"Yes. You're welcome," he mumbled, stuffing his pen in his pocket as he returned to his normal air of importance. She seemed to shrink back slightly at it.

"Who're you?" She asked, furrowing her brow. Kyouya grinned. It wasn't every day that he heard that. Almost no one didn't know who he was.

"Ohtori Kyouya, my lady," he said with a bow, taking her hand, moving to kiss her knuckles. He knew for a fact it worked for Tamaki. She pulled it back sharply, narrowing her eyes. Kyouya wanted to twitch. He didn't normally do that at all. Let alone have it refused.

"I know them. Mom said that you guys are a powerful company, and you're trying to buy Edward off." Kyouya nodded. This was the girl. So, swallowing his pride, for the sake of his future, he nodded and smiled. But he couldn't resist confusion… was Edward not her father? Why did she address her mother as such, but not him?

"By the way, sweet talking me won't get your family into favor with him. There's reasons he shipped me off here." Kyouya nodded. He would need to take a look at her files later. "Buh-bye." And without another word, the headphones were back on, the lyrics muffled as she returned to her dance-like antics while writing away on the laptop, and sipping at a… sobe?

Strange.

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