Words cannot express how much I enjoy Ouran High School Host Club. It's amazing... and... it doesn't belong to me. (PS that's the disclaimer)

This was based off a quick little thought I had - an "inner mind theatre" of mine, if you will. In which Haruhi tells Tamaki she loves him, in french. Of course, he's overjoyed. And even I squee'd at the cuteness. ...But of course, there was one fatal flaw that the script-writer for my "inner mind theatre" over looked...

We've all experienced it... the blurring of reality and illusion... when dreams feel just a little too real to be just dreams... and reality is just a little too strange to be real...

Chances are, the more we allow ourselves to dream, and the more we fill our hearts – and our minds – with these dreams, the more real they begin to feel. The more we allow ourselves to be submerged in a realm where everything is just too strange to be believed, the more we begin to believe it. The more we allow illusion to take sway over our hearts, the more it will sway our minds, until it clouds our vision... and so comes a day when day when you can't tell if it's real or fake; or perhaps, the whole time, you believe it's real. ...But it is real, isn't it...?

Suo Tamaki was having one of those days.

...or was it really real?

En Français

An Ouran High School Host Club Fanfic

"Tono is late again," the twins said monotonously, in unison.

Kyouya pushed his glasses up with his first two fingers, as he so commonly did, in this case to hide his agitation. In his arm he held his beloved clip board. "I am aware of that," he said darkly.

Honey was off across the room, shoving cake in his mouth while chattering aimlessly away with Mori. The much taller man just nodded every now and then – a typical conversation for the two.

Kyouya's eyes flickered back to the twins. "And Haruhi is not here either. But, she's usually late, so that's to be expected," he sighed as he picked up his pen and began to jot things down.

"We know Haruhi's always late..." Hikaru (or was it Kaoru?) began.

"...But tono is usually here first." Kaoru (or was this one Hikaru?) finished.

As if on cue, the elaborate double doors to the third music room suddenly burst wide open. Quite loudly, too, Kyouya noted. It was likely their missing leader.

"I have wonderful news!" a smooth voice boomed dramatically.

...Yep, it was Tamaki. Kyouya quickly jotted down his time of arrival... he was thirteen and a half minutes late. Tsk. His dark eyes darted up to quickly take in his best friend's current state. Tamaki seemed slightly haphazardly dressed, as though he had had a terrible day, but the look on his face and the sparkling glaze that covered his violet eyes spoke quite differently. He was obviously looking so disorganized because something wonderful had, indeed, occurred, and it must have occupied him the whole day through. He was obviously more focused on this miraculous event than his own princely image. It was a curious change, but then again, everything the king did was curious.

"Tama-chan, Tama-chan! You're late!" Honey had launched himself across the room, Usa-chan clutched firmly in hand, only to latch himself onto Tamaki's arm. Mori stood nearby and watched stoically.

"I know, I'm sorry, but I have wonderful, wonderful news!" he declared again. He flung the child-sized, flower-emitting boy into the air and caught him, his own face akin to that of a child. He put the small boy down and began dancing around the various Host Club members giggling gently to himself. "Oh, this is a momentous day indeed! Kyouya, I'm about to tell you all a story and I need you to write it down word for word, for this is a grand day in the history of the Host Club – in the history of me!" For that last sentence he, as per normal, struck his dramatic pointing pose.

The twins peeked out from around him, one on either side. "He's in a good mood," they said in unison.

"Maybe he found out he's gay and has a boyfriend," Hikaru snickered, grinning a bemused grin of evil.

"Or maybe Haruhi-chan finally gave in and called him 'dad'," Kaoru snickered, mirroring his twin's smile.

Tamaki spun, his face red, obviously wounded by the twin's tirade. "No! No such thing has happened!" his anger quickly faded and his smile grew again. "I'll have you know that my cute little Haruhi shall never again be known as my daughter!"

"Ehhhhh?!" The twins, Honey, and Kyouya all cried, in shock. Mori, of course, stood in the background with his face like a stone. But we all know he shared their shock. After all, Tamaki had been trying for months to get his cute little daughter Haruhi to call him father; in fact, he scolded her when she didn't. So why the sudden change of heart?! It was so unlike him!

Kyouya didn't understand this at all. Obviously, something drastic must have happened, but what. And, as Tamaki began to spin his way into a dramatic pose, roses billowing out of the background as expected for a pose of this level of grandeur, he realized he was about to find out.

Finishing his ever-so dramatic spin, Tamaki was standing in a way betraying pure victory. His smile was broad, his eyes closed in pride, his head tipped back. He ran a hand through his well-cared for blonde hair, flipping it to add to the drama of this moment. "Haruhi admitted her love for me!"

...

Silence ensued. Everyone was staring at him, their jaws lying on the marble floor, the very air around them radiating shock and misunderstanding. Even Mori had raised his eyebrow a stitch. The king of the Host Club laughed in pure bliss as his comrades looked on in complete disbelief. Even Honey's pink flowers had ceased to exist for the time being.

The twins, specifically Hikaru, snapped out of the trance first. His face was red with anger. "You lying bastard! Why would she love a ditz like you?! You just piss her off all the time! Come here, I'll knock some sense into you!"

"Hikaru, no!" Kaoru flung himself forwards, holding back his equal just as well as he could. Though he looked rather upset, too, he didn't let his anger get a hold of him. He was too busy keeping his very agitated brother from tearing up their lord.

Kyouya did his best to recompose himself. He pushed his glasses up his nose and straightened his tie. "Now's not the time for you delusions, Tamaki, get a hold of yourself." He left out any honorific, to prove his seriousness.

However, it seemed his message didn't get through. Honey had bound up to the blonde man, his tall shadow close behind, and cheered in glee. "That's great Tama-chan! I'm happy for Tama-chan and Haru-chan!" the senior practically glistened with pride for the club's leader.

Tamaki, ignoring the twins and ignoring his best friend, laughed triumphantly. "Oho, but it's true, you non-believers. It was just this morning..." his face became serious, as did his tone.

Everyone, sensing a story, quieted down and listened intently.

He blabbered on for many minutes about practically nothing, when finally, the noteworthy part came up. "And while my cute little daughter – I mean, uh – my cute little Haruhi clung desperately to me, wearing that adorable little white dress, she said to me; 'Reste avec moi, Tamaki, mon amour, toujours... Je... Je t'aime...!'"

He was brimming with joyous tears as he slumped into a wriggling heap on the floor. Aparently, his own story had been too much for him, for his face was burning bright red and he couldn't help squeaking and squealing to himself about his dream come true.

Honey was dancing around Mori triumphantly. The twins – both of them – were both too confused and scared and most likely pissed off and maybe secretly heartbroken to respond in any way, they stared blankly. Kyouya, for the third time in the five minutes since Tamaki's arrival, pushed his glasses up with a serious look on his face. This was a predicament; it seemed almost too surreal. Was it likely it was just another act of Tamaki's Inner Mind Theatre, that, perhaps, had felt a little too real to the king? ...No, that was unlikely. Even when he was caught up in his own delusions he still seemed to acknowledge some point of fiction. Kyouya's mind ticked away furiously. No, it had to be true. Haruhi really must have told Tamaki she loved him. If it had been just a day dream, Tamaki would have decided that it was fate and that it was meant to be, and he would have come to Kyouya in order to try to formulate a plan. A plan that would, of course, cause whatever his overactive imagination had conjured up to come true. He always came to Kyouya for stupid plans, no matter how ridiculous or how real his dreams would seem.

...So it must be true...

As Tamaki continued to wriggle and giggle on the floor in a giant heap of himself, the room was otherwise silent. "Mon amour... Je t'aime, je t'aime...!" he was repeating over and over to himself, softly, between gleeful cries.

And, in such silence, Mori strode forwards, stopping mere paces away from the king. Everyone in the room fell dead silent, even more silent than before, if it were possible. Their eyes were all locked on the stoic kendo whiz. You could have heard a pin drop.

When his lips parted, his deep voice tumbled forth in a quick, slow sentence of measured, carefully chosen words that no one had even thought to consider themselves, not until Mori had spoken them.

"Haruhi-chan doesn't speak French."

Fin

Review, mm'kay.

This was my first Ouran fic EVAR so DON'T go easy on me. Be as hard on me as you can, 'cause I'll never fix my mistakes otherwise.
BUT THAT ONLY APPLIES for keeping everyone IC or any major flaws in my plot or anything directly series-related. Okay? Be nice otherwise. XD

And remember; there's a huge difference between critique and flames.