I don't own Ouran High School Host Club (but it would be AWESOME!)
Ouran High School Host Club:
A Mystery Meets the Host Club
Haruhi Fujioka, first year student of Ouran Academy, sat in her large, ornate sofa, gazing across the music room at the other hosts and their clients. A smile tugged at her lips as she saw Honey-senpai using his boy-lolita charm on some girls, who fawned over him as always. Kyoya-senpai was lurking around, scribbling who-knows-what into his black notebook; the twins, Hikaru and Kaoru, were playing the "Which One Is Hikaru?" game, and Tamaki-senpai was whispering sweet nothings into some girl's ear. Haruhi, while occasionally aggravated by them all, couldn't remember a time when she was this happy, not counting the times she had had with her mother. A voice to her right called her name, and she looked to find her clients for the day. There were three of them today, all staring at her with concern.
"What's wrong, Haruhi?" one of them asked. "You seem distracted."
Haruhi smiled reassuringly, saying, "Oh, no. Nothing is wrong. It's just that," she looked around again, "Everyone is happy today. It seems like no one has a care in the world."
The girls giggled, overcome by the "cuteness" of Haruhi's comment. She shook her head, partly out of happy exasperation, partly to bring herself out of her reverie. She had clients to entertain, and she needed to focus, even if she was the "natural."
Peace finally settled back into the music room, home of the Host Club, when the girls left for the day. Haruhi breathed a sigh of relief. However much she enjoyed being a host, the task was still draining. Apparently, everyone else was feeling equally exhausted, because the twins called out her name, except it was more of a whine.
"Haruhi, we're tired. Make us some tea!"
"Oh, that's sounds like a fabulous idea," exclaimed Tamaki. "Make it two, please!"
"That does sound rather refreshing," said Kyoya.
Haruhi instantly grew indignant and was about to refuse and tell them to make it themselves, but Honey-senpai looked up from his cake and asked in his sweet voice, "Can I have some, too, Haru-chan?"
After a few minutes of preparing tea, grumbling, and many complaints about "rich people", Haruhi was serving the herself and the other hosts tea. In spite of herself, Haruhi smiled. The day was quiet, the sun was shining; it was a day when everything seemed at peace. Nothing and no one was troubled. That is, of course, until the door to the music room opened and shut with a loud bang.
Everyone turned to see someone, leaning against the door, panting and gasping, as if trying to catch his breath. The room went deathly quiet. During the silence, Haruhi looked more closely at the stranger. The person—male or female, she couldn't tell—appeared to be about eighteen. They were rather tall, almost as tall as Mori-senpai, had a slim, somewhat feminine body, with a slim waist and hips, thin arms and legs, dark, steel-blonde hair that fell past their eyes, the stranger looked willowy. Their dress did nothing to help identify their gender. The intruder wore skinny, dark blue jeans, a white, long-sleeved shirt the went over their hands, and white jogging shoes. The strangest thing about the stranger, however, apart from the gender-neutrality, was the dark blue leather collar around their neck. What are they doing here? wondered Haruhi.
After a moment of shuddering gasps, the stranger straightened up and looked around. The stranger's face seemed disproportionately young and adorable-looking compared with the rest of their body, yet it made the person more endearing, less aloof. Tamaki-senpai was the first to break the silence.
"Welcome to the Host Club, mademoiselle! How can we serve one as fair as you, this fine day?"
Haruhi smacked her forehead. How could he be so obnoxious, so oblivious, so...Tamaki at a time like this? Apparently, he hadn't learned much from when Haruhi had been forced to join the Host Club. Thankfully, Kyoya-senpai stepped in, trying to smooth over Tamaki's moronic comment.
"Can we help you? Our session is over, but perhaps we can schedule an appointment? Or are you lost?" he shook his head. "I'm sorry, where are my manners? My name is..."
"I know who you are," muttered the stranger, in a neutrally pitched voice, much like Haruhi's. But she could tell that the stranger was male. His voice was light, young sounding, and somewhat high-pitched for a guy his age. He looked at them all, and his hair parted away from his eyes. They were the color of steel reflecting a pale morning sky. He spoke again, louder this time, with more composure.
"You are Kyoya Ootori, third son of the Ootori family, destined to never be good enough to run your father's empire," then, he began pointing at them all individually. "You are the Hitachiin twins, Hikaru and Kaoru. You're Mitsukuni Haninozuka, martial arts legend and heir to the Haninozuka line, and you're aide, Takashi Morinozuka. And you, are Tamaki Suoh, illegitimate son and heir to the Suoh line."
Everyone stared at him, dumbfounded, except Kyoya, who kept his cool as only Kyoya could. Haruhi glanced between them, waiting for the tension in the room to break. Inside, she fumed that she had been ignored, but she wasn't surprised. Rich people, she thought.
"You have us at a disadvantage. You know who we are, but we know nothing about you," said Kyoya coolly.
"Yeah, who do you think you are, barging in here like you did?" exclaimed Hikaru.
The stranger opened his mouth, obviously ready with a scathing retort, but something stopped him.
He said, in a voice that sounded like he was fighting to keep his composure, "It doesn't matter. I've intruded on your business, and you are right to be angry. I'll leave now."
With that, he left hurriedly, snapping the door shut behind him. Not, however, before Haruhi heard a sob escape him. They all stared at the door for a moment, the Kaoru broke the silence.
"What a jerk," he said. "Barging in here, then not even giving us his name before leaving?"
Hikaru continued his twin's train of thought. "I certainly hope he's not a prospective student. Can you imagine him walking the-"
"That's enough, both of you!" shouted Haruhi. The twins stared at her, confused and somewhat affronted. "Can't you see that he was obviously upset about something? He was probably looking for an empty room to cry in! Have a little sympathy!"
The twins started to respond, but Kyoya cut them off. Haruhi thought he was stepping in to either back her up or at least end the argument.
"While that may have been the case, he should have knocked or done something to see if the room was occupied. It was rather rude."
Haruhi's fists shook with anger. "How can you be so insensitive, Kyoya-senpai?!" she shouted.
"Haru-chan's right," said Mitsukuni. His head was down cast, and his rabbit, Usa-chan, was grasped in his arms. He looked up at the twins, then Kyoya, his eyes steely with resolve.
"Well then, maybe we should go apologize,"offered Tamaki. Hikaru indignantly refused.
"Why should we have to apologize? He was the one who intruded!"
Haruhi couldn't stand it anymore. She turned from the others, the left the music room, slamming the door behind her.
After a few seconds of deep breathing and trying to regain her composure, Haruhi took off in search of the stranger. Her search, however, was turning up nothing. After checking what seemed like the last empty classroom in the school, she put her hand to her forehead and thought, If I needed to cry, where would I go? Several possible answers presented themselves to her, most of which she wrote off as implausible. Then, her thoughts drifted to the rose garden on the grounds, how many times she'd gotten lost. That's what I want to feel when I get sad, thought Haruhi, lost. Away from the world. Secluded. She nodded to herself and set out, heading for the rose garden.
The grounds were quiet as Haruhi made her way across them. Birds broke the otherwise resolute silence. She strained her ears, listening for the sounds of the stranger's sobs. Sure enough, after a bit of wandering, the sound of sadness escaping the body: sobbing, sniffling, incomprehensible questions asked to an unseen entity. Haruhi moved toward the sounds, and finally, she saw him, sitting on a bench in the marquee. He looked a real mess, his hair tousled from the numerous times he'd apparently run his hands through it, tears pouring down his cheeks and off his chin, and his steely eyes were bloodshot.
He looked up as he heard her approach, then tried to clean off his face.
"Sorry," he said, sniffling, "I'm not usually like that."
Haruhi tilted her head at him. "Why are you sorry?"
"I don't know. It's a habit, I guess," He muttered, shrugging. Haruhi moved closer. When he didn't shy away, she sat next to him on the bench. She made no move to touch him; he was a stranger, after all. But that wouldn't be the case before long.
Before she could introduce herself, however, he said, "I don't know you."
The statement was so blunt and forward, Haruhi giggled and said, "What?"
"I don't know you," he said again, his expression blank and his voice flat. "I know everyone in the world of the rich famous. I don't know you."
She smiled at him. Normally, she would have been insulted or irritated, but his manner was so endearingly oblivious, she couldn't fault him for it.
She said, chuckling, "That's because I'm neither rich, nor famous. My name is Haruhi Fujioka."
"I'm Luke," he said, smiling as he shook her hand. "I'd rather not divulge my last name. If people here knew who I was..."
Luke's voice trailed off, and he looked away.
"What?" she asked before she could stop herself.
Luke shrugged and shook his head.
Deciding she was already past the social point-of-no-return, she forged on. "Luke, whatever you're afraid of, you don't have to be with me."
He sighed, looking at her with exasperation and slight amusement.
"Alright, but I tell you this out of trust." He took a deep, shaky breath, then said, "My last name...is Byakuro."
He flinched, as if he was afraid Haruhi would explode with rage or something equally violent. But she just stared at him blankly, no hint of recognition in her bearing. She had never heard the name Byakuro. Then again, she paid little attention to the world of the rich and powerful. Luke stared at her, indignation and amazement in his eyes.
"You've never heard of Byakuro International?"
She shook her head. "Should I have?"
He smiled somewhat.
"I suppose not," he murmured. "Well, my father is Hado Byakuro, the head of a very large, international defense corporation. I'm his only son, the youngest of five. I was the embodiment of all his hopes for the future. But that's all over now."
Haruhi waited for the explanation, but it didn't come. He seemed to be holding something back. Haruhi's curiosity got the better of her, and before she could stop herself, she asked the big question.
"Why?"
Fresh tears began flowing from Luke's eyes, and he buried his boyish features in his sleeve-covered hands. Haruhi's face went from calm to alarmed. What did I say, she wondered. She panicked and tried to amend her mistake.
"Oh, man, I'm sorry! What did I say? What's wrong?" she fussed, waving her hands in a defensive and placating gesture.
Luke looked up at her...and burst into laughter. Tearful laughter, but laughter all the same. Haruhi tilted her head in confusion as Luke continued to laugh, bent double from the strength of his mirth. What is up with him?
"Sorry," he giggled, wiping tears, of laughter or sadness, she couldn't tell, from his brilliant blue eyes. "It's just, that was so endearing. It just...tickled me inside."
As he broke into a fresh fit of giggles, Haruhi followed suit and giggled as well. It was a few moments before they had a hold of themselves, after which, a not-uneasy silence fell between them. Haruhi smiled, but her curiosity was burning inside her. She did not let it get the better of her, though, lest Luke fall apart again.
"My father disowned me," he said, suddenly. Haruhi stared at him, absolutely stunned. She couldn't imagine doing anything that would make her father disown her. Even Tamaki, who was the illegitimate son of the Suoh family, and Kyoya, who was the third son and likely never to impress his father, weren't disowned. The concept was so alien to her. Luke looked over at her, his face blank, but his eyes cloudy with internal struggle and tears.
"He tossed me out on the street without so much as a second glance. I barely had any time to pack. To be honest, I'm surprised he let me take anything." His voice was flat, but she could tell it was taking all his effort to keep it that way.
"Not even my mother tried to change his mind. Nor my sisters. They just glared at me with disdain as I rushed out of the house. I had nowhere to go, and no one to turn to. I was tossed from the summer house in Tokyo and left to wander the streets. I managed to access my accounts before they were frozen, but I needed a place to live while I recovered, financially and emotionally. So, I looked for schools, and found Ouran. And here I am."
Haruhi, saddened by the story, put a tentative hand on his shoulder, which he did not shrug off. In her mind, however, Haruhi felt there was something missing.
"I don't understand," she said, "why did your father disown you?"
Luke did not respond for a long minute, then he looked up at her and saw his eyes bloodshot and wet again. In those beautiful eyes, Haruhi saw so much shame and pain and anger and sadness, she wondered how he could hold it all. Then, in a voice so quiet and shaky she almost missed it, he said, "I'm gay."