HAPPY CHRISTMAS (EVE) EVERYBODY!
Welcome to my first Christmas oneshot! Hopefully you'll approve!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own the wonderful world that is Ouran High School Host Club. The club and all of its accouterments belongs to the honorable Hatori Bisco-sensei. The OCs you will spot, however (God, I can't get enough of those...) are MINE, and I shall defend them.
That aside, on with the tale!
WARNING! Juvenile humor will ensue.
The Hitachiin Christmas party had just begun.
For once, it was incredibly boring.
Hitachiin Hikaru drummed his fingers on the balcony of the Hitachiin house, trying not to groan. Christmas Eve, and Kaoru was in bed with one of the worst cases of strep throat the doctor had ever seen. Hikaru had been told, curtly, by both of his parents, that he was forbidden from going near his brother for forty-eight hours, until they were positive that the medicine was working and that Kaoru, who couldn't speak due to the soreness of his throat, was no longer infectious to anybody.
Which basically meant that his mother had locked the door to Kaoru's bedroom, hidden the key, and posted a guard at both entrances (the door and the door in the balcony) to prevent Hikaru from getting inside.
It was beyond frustrating.
Basically, the Christmas party was just a bunch of his mother's employees – fashion models, both male and female; her fellow designers; the editor and reporters for her fashion magazine; and some other people that he suspected his meek father had invited – gathering to celebrate the fact that for yet another year, Hitachiin Fashion had succeeded fabulously in practically all of its enterprises.
It would have been interesting, like the year before, if any of the host club had managed to come, but no – Tono was in England, Kyouya-senpai in Germany, Hani-senpai and Mori-senpai in Switzerland. Haruhi had claimed to have other plans, and when Hikaru had dropped by to drag her to the party, neither she nor her father had been at home.
Deprived of his favorite toys, and bereft of his twin brother, Hikaru was nothing if not bored.
And when Hitachiin Hikaru was bored, the world was in danger of tilting off center.
Thus he was out on the balcony, staring up at the determinedly cloudy sky, and wishing that it would snow. It had snowed last year. If it snowed, he could collect up the little piles and drop them on the people downstairs. Of course, Kaoru would be extremely disapproving, but what Kaoru didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
"What on earth are you doing out here?" It was his mother. Hitachiin Yuzuha looked extremely grumpy; her hair was getting ready to fall out of its clips, and her slinky red dress wasn't exactly appropriate clothing for the weather outside. "It's freezing. I have someone I want to introduce you to."
"I'll come in a second." Hikaru muttered, turning back to look at the sky. He was besieging it with his very explicit and uncivil demand for snow; he wanted to dump some on the snooty Harada Yukino, one of the higher paid and vainer models that worked for Yuzuha.
Yuzuha stared at him for a moment before making an exasperated noise and storming back inside, flinging her hands in the air. Once she had shut the door, Hikaru scooted to the edge of the balcony, out of sight of the glass doors. He didn't particularly want to go in and meet whoever it was. Probably one of the new models she'd hired the week before, all of them very tall and skinny. Very boring.
He considered trying to sneak into Kaoru's room, but decided against it. The guards were too good for him to get past. Maybe, if he had Hani-senpai here, he could have done it, but Hani-senpai was in Switzerland. Of course.
The balcony door opened, and Hikaru twisted his head to snap at his mother again. But it wasn't Yuzuha – it was one of the models, wearing dark blue and looking startled.
"Oh." She stopped. She was pretty short, compared to most of the models downstairs; she couldn't have been more than five foot four, without the heels she was wearing. "I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was out here."
"It's okay." Hikaru said automatically. Then he made a face. Why did I say that? She was the one barging in.
"I'll just go." The model turned, and Hikaru was almost ready to look up at the sky again when she hesitated. "You're…Yuzuha-san's son, right? Hikaru-san?"
"Nah, I'm Kaoru." Hikaru lied easily. Maybe he could use this model as a replacement toy until it finally snowed. "Hikaru's sick in bed."
"No, I'm pretty sure you're Hikaru." The model said, with a faint smile on her face. "Yuzuha-san said expressly that it was Kaoru," she stressed the word, "who was sick in bed. Nice to meet you, Hikaru-san."
She closed the balcony door behind her. Hikaru blinked a few times, surprised at the abrupt dismissal as well as by the fact that she hadn't believed his lie. Sure, it was his mother's fault for informing her (probably all the models, to prevent any of them being tricked) that it was Kaoru who was sick, and not himself, but still; the put-down of the idea had been far too fast.
Besides: he was bored. He needed something to play with. If the tiny model was willing to talk to him, then he could make a temporary toy out of her.
People aren't toys, Hikaru. Haruhi's scolding voice echoed in his mind. He shook it away. He was bored; what else was he supposed to do? Clearly the sky wasn't going to comply with his wishes and dump snow on the entirety of Japan.
Hikaru left the balcony, expecting that she had just gone right back into the ballroom, but instead, he nearly ran into her back two feet from the door. The model jumped, nearly falling off her high heels; she caught herself quickly and covered up her lack of balance with a laugh.
"Hikaru-san. I'm sorry. I was just…" She gestured at the walls, seemingly unable to find the correct word. After a moment, she sighed and sagged. "I'm lost."
Hikaru blinked, taken aback by the blunt admission. After a moment, he cleared his throat, trying not to laugh.
"Go to the end of the hall, open the door, and go down those stairs. You'll be back in the ballroom, easy."
"What?" Her voice was a yelp; she limped down the hall to peer through the half-open door. "Okay, those stairs were not there when I tried that a minute ago."
Hikaru was sorely tempted to ask her whether she was stupid or just seriously visually challenged. An image of a pair of sour people – Kaoru and Haruhi, both scowling at him for being 'rude' – kept the words in his mouth.
"Actually, Hikaru-san, can you help me?" The model hitched the polite smile back up on her face. "I was trying to find the bathroom, that's why I came up here in the first place, but I'm still totally lost, so…"
It was something to do, anyway. Maybe she'd get lost again if he left her alone halfway there. "Fine. This way."
"Thank you." The model bent down, yanked her feet out of the stilettos, and held them in one hand, walking barefoot down the carpeted hall. "Oh, God, my feet. That feels wonderful.
"I'm Maika, by the way." She added, after a moment. "Rikyuu Maika, seventeen, blood type B, rising model. It's nice to meet you."
"Yeah." Hikaru said, getting bored already. I don't want to know all that, all right?
"You look a little worried." Maika locked her hands, with her clutch and shoes, behind her back. "Is it your brother?"
"No." Hikaru lied blithely. He hated it when people saw through him. "Just bored."
"Well, I knew that much." Maika laughed. Stop laughing already. "You don't look very pleased with the world. Or the sky," she added, pointing up at the ceiling. "The sky really seems to be pissing you off today. Did it take a dump on you this morning?"
Hikaru blinked and glanced at her, surprised that a statement like that had come from a petite, sweet looking model. Maika laughed again at his expression.
"It did it to me. Rain hates me."
"Here." Hikaru stopped, a little weirded out. "Bathroom. Can you get back on your own?"
"I think…" Maika sagged again. "Probably not."
Are you a complete bimbo? Incredibly, I'm even more bored. "Fine." Hikaru said, irritably. "I'll wait."
"Thank you." Maika beamed, and disappeared into the depths of the bathroom. Hikaru sighed, leaning against the wall; not only was he enormously fed up with this party, he was having to act like a house guide to an insipid model.
Greeeat…
A burst of coughs echoed through the hallway, and Hikaru jumped; his feet had taken them to the bathroom near his and Kaoru's rooms. (Of course, they rarely if ever used both at the same time, but that put aside…) He could see the arm of the guard at the end of the hall, hanging out into the hallway.
What was the point of guards, anyway? I don't care if I get sick.
But it was Yuzuha he was thinking about here. Once she had an idea in her head, there was no stopping her.
Glass houses, Hikaru. Kaoru chimed in his head.
Go away. Stupid conscience.
The door creaked open again. Rikyuu Maika, her face touched up, drying her hands on a towel, appeared in the gap, looking more thoughtful.
"C'mere."
"What?" Hikaru blinked again. She has some insane mental disorder. The only solution.
"Just come here." She said, waspishly, pointing to something above her head. "I want to show you something that I think'll help."
Quite unnerved now, Hikaru took two hesitant steps forward and stared up at the ceiling of the bathroom. There was nothing up there but an air vent, which had been painted to look like part of the ceiling itself.
"What am I supposed to be looking at?"
"Don't be an idiot." Maika snapped. She peered out the door before closing it, clearly noticing the guard. "I heard your mother talking about the guards, you can use the air vent to get through to your brother's room. She never thought of that and I know for a fact that air vents can be crawled through if they're large enough. And skinny enough," she added, looking him over for a second. "Which you seem to be."
"How do you know this?"
"Just trust me on this, okay? Here, use this." She dug around in her clutch for a moment, pulling out a glasses case, and removed a screwdriver about the length of her hand. "I need it sometimes to fix the screws in my reading glasses. Kaoru-san has strep throat, and he's been taking antibiotics for over twenty-four hours, you should be able to get in and out without contracting anything."
"I think the screws in glasses are typically smaller than this." Hikaru said, gingerly taking the screwdriver. Maika scowled again.
"Just use it, okay? You can stand on the stool. I know the way back, I just needed an excuse to get you over here." She opened the door, glancing both ways. "Good luck, okay?"
"Wait a second." Hikaru caught her upper arm with the hand that held the screwdriver. "Why are you –"
She put a finger to her lips, peeled his fingers away, and shut the door.
After the sneaking visit was over, and Hikaru had changed his clothes (the two journeys through the air vents had left him smeared with dust; he could only hope his mother didn't notice the stuff in his hair) he clattered down to the ballroom, the screwdriver held in one hand. His mother was talking cheerfully to some of the slinkier models; she was clearly in a much better mood.
"Ah, Hikaru!" She sent him a radiant smile at him as he approached. "There you are, I was wondering. You haven't come down for ages!"
"Looking for something." Hikaru hid the screwdriver behind his back, bent down, and kissed his mother on the forehead, as she was clearly ordering him to do. The three slinky models, all with black hair, slid away, each of them collecting a flute of champagne as they went. "Sorry I'm late."
"You're in a much better mood!" Yuzuha shone at him. "I'm so pleased. Oh, right, I wanted to introduce you –" She reached out with one hand, scooping Maika out of thin air. "Hikaru, this is Nakamura Kotone-chan, the model I've been telling you and your brother about. She's young, about your age, but she's one of the best models we have right now. I just hired her a few months ago, and she's already on the cover."
Kotone?
Maika – Kotone – whoever – looked fairly irritated; she glowered at the oblivious Yuzuha, surreptitiously trying to worm her arm out of Yuzuha's grip. True to form, Yuzuha simply tightened her fingers.
"Kotone-chan, this is one of my sons, Hikaru. Kaoru is sick upstairs, like I told you earlier. They're identical twins." She added, a little proudly. "Though of course, Hikaru's gone and dyed his hair."
"I know, you showed me a photograph." Kotone said, in a quiet voice. "Yuzuha-san, I was having a conversation, please let me go –"
"Nonsense!" Yuzuha said firmly. "Hari-chan will understand. Go and talk with Hikaru for a while, I simply will not take no for an answer!"
She released Kotone, gave her a beady look, and stalked away. Kotone rubbed her arm, disgruntled, as Hikaru offered her the screwdriver.
"Whose name did you steal?" He asked, mildly impressed that she'd managed to trick him. A impish smile flashed across her face.
"A manga character. You didn't notice?"
"I just thought you were weird, not completely insane." Hikaru shrugged. Kotone gave him a dirty look.
"Hey now. I managed to get you to your brother, didn't I?"
"Surprisingly." Hikaru paused for a moment. "Why did you want to help me? There was nothing in it for you."
To his surprise, Kotone smiled mischievously again.
"I don't know. Maybe I was just bored."
With that, she reached up, patted him on the cheek, and walked away, whistling Carol of the Bells as she went.
Hikaru shook his head, exasperated. He would have to complain about this infuriating person to Kaoru later.
-san: contrary to popular belief, -san does not mean Mr. or Ms. -san doesn't mean anything, in particular, other than the fact that you have either just met and/or have respect for a person of equal status to you. Typically, if you use -san with someone you are close with, that means you're very polite. If you don't use -san with someone you've just met, you're very open and almost rude.
-chan: a term used between close friends, and to lower status people (younger sisters, as seen above.) -chan is also used to describe cute things, like "koneko-chan!" (kitten-chan)
Anyway, if you couldn't guess, Christmas is my favorite holiday of all time. I hope you have a good time with yours! (Or Hanukah, or Kwanzaa!) Happy holidays!