ryu's corner: Hello, dearest readers, and welcome to my MoriHaru Christmas fic! I know, you're probably saying it's a little late. Actually, you have no idea how late this is—I started writing this thing in December 2010. Yeah. Talk about procrastination.

So, because I enjoy being a tease, the story will be uploaded in two or three parts, this being the first. I hope you enjoy it!~


The girl practically exploded from her homeroom, the hem of her puffy yellow dress trailing behind her. She couldn't wait!

In less than a minute, she was there. Her breath hitched in her throat. With tremendous strength and resolve, she faced the heavy double doors and shoved them open. She was greeted with a warm light, accompanied by a flurry of glittery snowflakes and...pine needles?

"Ouch!" she cried as one poked her in the eye.

"We told you so," two voices said in perfect synchronization.

"Quiet!" another voice hissed. "It's all a part of the plan..."

When the light (and the pain) dimmed, the girl gasped in glee and surprise: assembled in the center of the room were the seven handsomest men she'd ever seen! "Welcome, ladies!" they said in unison.

The young man in the center, wearing a red suit and cap, looked directly at her, his violet eyes filled with sympathetic tears. "Oh, sweet darling," he crooned, holding a mittened hand toward her. "I pray you weren't hurt too badly. It would be a shame to see a lovely young lady such as yourself come to any harm."

The girl squeee!d in delight and practically threw herself at him. He chuckled (after giving the twins a victorious smirk). "So tell me...what is it you want for Christmas this year?"

Haruhi may have been chatting amicably with her customers, but on the inside she was fuming.

I am going to kill Tamaki, I swear...!

The Host King himself was in his usual seat on the couch in the center of the room, going a bit too far with his Santa Claus character (if she heard one more "Ho, ho, ho!"...), which she supposed was survivable.

What absolutely was not fine was the fact that Tamaki had blackmailed her into wearing a ridiculously feminine angel costume, consisting of little more than a frilly white lace nightgown and a gold circlet.

During a lull in customers she shot him a look of unadulterated loathing. The idiot king, between the empty compliments and vows, secretly squeezed more water into his eyes via eyedropper. Haruhi looked away, disgusted.

Already quite bored with the proceedings, her eyes roved lazily across the rest of the room. At one table, Hunny-senpai was dressed up as a tiny reindeer, shoveling cake after cake into his mouth contentedly. A bit of red frosting stuck to his nose after one bite.

"KYAAAAAH! RUDOLPH!" his customers shrieked. "SO MOE!"

"Mitsukuni." The murmur was low and gentle. Mori-senpai, dressed as a snowman, wiped the frosting off of Hunny's nose with a holiday-themed handkerchief. A few of their customers swooned.

Haruhi allowed a slight grin to grace her features. It quickly vanished when she heard a suspicious CLICK! She whipped around to find Hikaru and Kaoru smirking at her, camera in hands. The twins were wearing mirror-image elf costumes (pointed ears included).

"Say cheese~" they chorused as they snapped another picture. Haruhi felt her blood rising to her cheeks, her temper flaring.

The twins noticed, and they only grinned wider. "For the record, it wasn't our idea," Hikaru pointed out.

"Blame him," Kaoru whispered conspiratorially, leaning in closer to Haruhi. He jabbed a thumb at the farthest table, where none other than Kyouya, the Shadow King himself, sat, tapping busily at his PineApple laptop. Haruhi almost laughed out loud at his Grinch costume, but thought better of it when his head half-turned toward her and light glinted almost audibly off of his glasses.

Tamaki chose that instant to glance in Haruhi's direction. He did a double-take and squealed like a stuck pig. He immediately rushed over, flailing and screaming indignantly, "Infernal doppelgangers! Keep your paws away from my precious dau-mmph!"

The "infernal doppelgangers" had clamped their hands over Tamaki's mouth.

"Now, now, Tono, watch what you say," Kaoru crooned into one of the Host King's ears.

"You don't want to give fair Haruhi's secret away, now, do you?" Hikaru chided into the other ear.

"B-blackmail!" Tamaki spluttered. Looking over at Kyouya, he whimpered, "Mommy, make the mean clones stop~!"

"Mommy" coldly ignored him.

Tamaki finally burst, rounding on the Hitachiins. "That's it! Give me that camera!"

The twins cackled and ran away, holding the camera out tauntingly. Furious, Tamaki followed in pursuit.

Haruhi groaned. With those three around, she'd never have any peace! She briefly considered moving to sit by Kyouya, where there would be guaranteed quiet, but being in the presence of the Shadow King was far from peaceful.

Well, that settled it.

"Hey, do you mind if I sit with you guys?" Haruhi asked as she approached Mori and Hunny's table.

The loli-shota looked up from a bite of black forest cake and, seeing Haruhi, beamed. "Yay! Haru-chan's coming to sit with us!" he sang, eliciting squeaks of delight from watching customers. Mori simply nodded, the corners of his lips gently curving up.

"Thanks," Haruhi smiled. She gestured behind her, where Tamaki had tackled Hikaru to the floor, only to discover that Kaoru had the camera and was happily skipping away, the device clicking pictures all the while. "Too chaotic over there," she added in explanation.

"Ah," was Mori's only response. The unlikely trio seemed blissfully unaware of the fangirls watching them-Mori and Haruhi in particular-with bated breath. The spell was shattered when a newly arriving customer looked up, gasped, and sighed dreamily, "Oh, look! Mistletoe!"

Haruhi's head jerked up abruptly. Sure enough, hanging over her and Mori was a tiny sprig of the dreaded plant. The Natural host gave an uncharacteristic shriek and fell out of her seat.

Mori, too, was on his feet. He had been staring at a certain something that just so happened to be in Haruhi's general vicinity, completely zoned out, until he heard Haruhi scream. He was, to say the least, curious as to what may have caused the commotion. Before he could say anything, there was a resounding "Ahem!" from the front of the room. All eyes immediately swiveled in their sockets to see none other than Tamaki, (looking slightly disheveled, but with the camera triumphantly slung around his neck; the twins were tied together on the floor) leaning on...a stereo set?

"Wha—? When did that get there?" Haruhi demanded incredulously, picking herself up off the floor.

"Well," Hunny said contemplatively, between bites of cake. "This is a music room, Haru-chan. It's only natural for it to have music stuff in it, ne~?"

Haruhi muttered something indiscernible about rich people.

"Attention, everyone!" Tamaki declared (unnecessarily, as he already had everyone's attention). "In honor of the holiday season and the upcoming new year, we-the Host Club-are throwing..." He clicked a remote in his hand, causing confetti to pop from the ceiling, accompanied by a large sphere that resembled the one they used in America for the New Year celebration. "A dance!"

A surprised murmur rippled through the crowd.

"W-we'll be able to dance with Tamaki? Kyaaahhh!"

"Oh, in what I'm wearing now? I won't look nearly good enough for Kyouya-senpai!"

"Is this really allowed...?"

"Never fear, ladies," Tamaki reassured the fretting girls. "You all look lovely the way you are." More than a few girls threatened fainting.

"We can't dance in these clothes, though!" The twins cried in mock despair, inexplicably out of their bonds. Haruhi detected a definite undertone of mischief in their tones. As she was about to warn them not to do anything stupid, she was shocked into a stupor when the twins ripped their clothes off.

Underneath their costumes, fortunately, were expensive-looking designer tuxedos.

Within seconds the entire Host Club was stripping their costumes away with impunity. A select few fangirls were ecstatic at first, but wilted when they realized that the hosts were still clothed. Each host had been wearing a different-colored tuxedo under their costumes, with their signature roses clipped to their lapels.

Still, all this willy-nilly stripping was making Haruhi a bit uncomfortable. She mumbled an excuse to no one in particular and excused herself to the dressing room. A tuxedo would have been too conspicuous under her dress, anyway. For some reason or another, Tamaki and the twins had been all too happy with this excuse. Hm...

She sighed as she slipped into the dressing room. Finally! she rejoiced. Some peace and—

Oh.

Oh.

Standing with his back to the door was none other than Mori-senpai. With his bareback to the door. Unlike the other hosts, he had been in the middle of actually stripping (in private, of course). Mori had only taken his shirt off, but it was still enough to make Haruhi turn as red as her designated flower.

Mori glanced over his shoulder and his grey eyes widened in surprise. If one knew him well enough, or they happened to look closely enough, they would notice a faint pink tinge rise to his cheeks. He quickly turned away.

Haruhi, flustered, was already groping for the seemingly elusive doorknob. "I...ah...s-sorry," she stammered. "I'm sorry, I'll just—"

"I won't look."

Mori, true to his word, was in fact not looking, and his deep voice sounded...different, somehow. Haruhi couldn't quite place it. This was the least of her worries, however, as she was cornered by Mori's words and her odd inability to tear her eyes from the senior's well-toned back.

Haruhi froze. Did I really just think that?

She resisted the urge to slap herself across the face and scream, "WAKE UP IN THERE!" Such an idea was ridiculous, though. She'd probably feel the exact same way with any other host in this situation, she scoffed. What made Mori-senpai so special?

That irritatingly rational and honest voice in the back of her head didn't seem to realize that this was a rhetorical question. The (unwanted) answer was like a splash of cold water to the face.

He cares about you as a person, the voice said. He doesn't treat you like a plaything, or a trophy, or a guinea pig. He respects your wishes and your privacy, and—

This time, she did slap herself.

Mori started to turn around, but stopped himself. He frowned and, without turning asked, "Are you all right?"

Haruhi could sense the I told you sobefore it came, which only served to bother her further. "I'm fine," she muttered, slamming her locker door open to retrieve her dance costume from within, then slammed it back shut. She took a look at it and paused.

"A dress," she murmured, glaring at the red obscenity. "Of course." Had Haruhi not been in a foul mood, she probably would have (grudgingly) admitted that it was a rather nice dress, appearing as though it were made from rose petals.

Engrossed in her little pity party, she failed to notice the tea set sitting on a rickety shelf above her head, a red arrow blinking over it ominously. When she slammed the locker door, it seemed to be the last straw for the poor shelf. With a prolonged creaking, it wobbled for a couple of seconds before relinquishing its hold on the wall.

CRASH!