Takes place between chapter eight and nine of Something Called Luck. A smidgen of Haruhi/Tamaki and Masumi/Kyoya thrown in.
Of Turbulence, Awkward Falls, and Fluff
After the last months with the Host Club, Haruhi Fujioka thought she'd seen everything that could be seen in the world of the wealthy—or at least, she'd thought she'd seen enough to keep from staring in surprise. The logic had been simple: imagine the biggest, fanciest version of "blank", make it bigger and fancier, and then add the name, "Ootori," or "Hitachiin," "Suoh," etc.
Simple.
Unfortunately, her mouth refused to listen to her brain and remained stubbornly gaping as she—along with the rest of the group—walked down the corridor of the Ootori 78.
Since when do airplanes even have corridors?
"Impressed?" the Shadow King asked, glancing back at her. As the owner of the plane and therefore the "host among hosts," he'd been leading the group on what Haruhi could only imagine was his idea of a tour. Mostly, it involved statistics and prices, and from the quiet, and sometimes not so quiet chatter behind her, Haruhi guessed the only one listening was Masumi Sakura.
She nodded mutely and Kyoya returned to his one-woman audience, offering his arm as they approached a corner. Masumi took it gracefully, only to drop it and squeal as she noticed the fruit-shaped lights that ran across the top of the walls.
Usually, Kyoya-sempai doesn't bother with girls like her, and yet he doesn't seem to mind that she can be just as much an otaku as Renge.
"Aren't they cute?" Tamaki walked up beside her, "So different, and yet so alike, though I haven't heard Kyoya squeal for anything yet." Haruhi glanced at the blonde sempai and couldn't help the smile that crept over her face.
Had Tamaki Suoh been a dog, his ears would have been up and his tail would have been vibrating with unrepressed excitement as he stared at his best friend and Masumi arguing whether wood or marble was the best choice for floor material.
Despite the shine in his eyes, he had the foresight to keep his voice low. "Who knew Kyoya could flirt so well?"
Who knew there were so many innuendos associated with interior design?
Despite the fact that she was a redhead and he had dark hair, they looked good together. Masumi was obviously his intellectual equal, though her academic side was often hidden, if not completely smothered, by her love of cute things.
"She'll be good for him," Tamaki said, his affection for his best friend coloring his tone, "Kyoya needs someone to shake him up a little."
They turned the corner into a rec room, and just then the plane shifted and Haruhi felt herself slip. Tamaki's arm reached out and caught her. "Careful, Haruhi."
Not daughter. Haruhi.
She realized she was still pressed into him and pulled away, hoping her face wasn't scarlet. "Thanks, sempai."
A muffled thump broke the semi-awkward silence and the two turned.
Oh, Lord.
Haruhi couldn't muffle a small laugh as she observed the tangled pile of limbs and heads on the floor. While she'd been lucky enough to have turned the corner before the small bump, Kichi and the twins had just started around the bend when they felt the airplane shift.
It was literally impossible to tell where one twin ended and the other began—and the unfortunate Kichi was completely immobile. Haruhi looked over their bodies just in time to catch Mori's eye. The usually stoic boy's mouth twitched, just a little.
They lost it.
She could hear Kyoya and Masumi heading back to find out why their guests were suddenly imitating hyenas, and swore she could hear Masumi's eyes pop as the older girl saw what had befallen her little sister. The red-head's mouth tightened and she turned to Kyoya.
"Please tell me you have a camera."
The flash was all she needed as a reply, and the three muffled protests were soon drowned out by Masumi's squeals and instructions.
The twins, however, soon got over their embarrassment and began following Masumi's orders to "look bashful Kaoru, not shy," and "give me your naughtiest 'oops-you-caught-me' look, Hikaru."
Haruhi knew that she should feel sorry for the beet-red Kichi, who was squashed between Hikaru and Kaoru with no way of getting free. Maybe she should tell the twins to stop striking naughty poses and embarrassing the girl stuck between their impromptu "loving brothers" act.
Maybe she should risk death and try stealing the camera from Kyoya.
Perhaps, if she'd been a better person, she would have.
But for now, listening to the laughter and squeals in the room as Kichi got one hand free—only to have it land in an awkward position—Haruhi just smiled and allowed Tamaki to pull her out of the way of Kyoya's camera.