Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club. I do own this little fic, though.
Haruhi lounged on the sofa in the living room of her apartment, feeling bored, her arm over her face. It was a weekend, which meant she didn't have hosting duties, for once. However, as she had finished her homework quickly, she didn't have anything constructive to work on, either. All of her laundry was done, it wasn't time to cook dinner, and flipping through the TV channels had provided her with nothing but reruns of shows that she bore no interest towards.
She sighed. She usually loved the relaxed ambience of the end of the week, but without something to do, it was just a pain in the neck. She almost wished she had some hosting duties, so that she could at least work off some more of her debt to utilize her time.
As she shifted, the arm that moved from her eyes allowed her vision to settle upon the bookcase. I guess I could always read, she reasoned, as the thought occurred to her.
She pushed herself off of the couch and meandered over to the collection of knowledge. As she scanned the titles, she realized that she even had some old textbooks stuffed in between the novels. Her eyes fell upon one in particular, and with a humored snort, she pulled the heavy tome from the supportive pressed wood.
General Chemistry I. Hikaru had convinced her to take that class together with his twin, since they were trying to arrange a schedule to keep the three of them together.
That course was a nightmare, too, Haruhi remembered with a cringe.
For the fun of it, she started flipping through the pages randomly, making a game of seeing the first word that popped into her vision on that particular page.
Between.
Haruhi laughed. The first word she found wasn't even head-pounding chemical jargon, but a preposition! It was too much.
Through her laughter, she remembered how Tamaki's Host Club always left her in the middle of something. There really was never a dull moment, because it was stuck somewhere between fantasy and reality. The Host Club really was a whole other world.
This is fun, she thought.
Chortling, she thumbed her fingers along the pages and then pulled the book apart again.
Move.
Haruhi chuckled, deciding this would definitely keep her entertained.
But what was she supposed to do about a random verb?
She pondered, then decided that the ability to move was the one thing that was definitely required to be a host. The twins were always making her go buy instant coffee whenever the club ran out. It was frustrating.
She flipped the page.
Emitted.
Haruhi burst out laughing, Tamaki's exuberant nature instantly coming to mind. He just oozed narcissism when he was at the high of his hosting, it was like he was emitted a wavelength all of his own.
Example.
Ok. What was she supposed to do with example?
There were plenty of examples of everything in the club. Heck, they were all examples of different shonen stereotypes! Renge was there to remind them of that whenever she deemed it necessary.
Supersaturated solution.
Haruhi bent over in laughter, the suddenness of actual chemical jargon surprising her. The only thing she could think of were the club's failed attempts at making coffee, either not adding enough coffee grounds or turning the drink into a supersaturated mess. It was funny to watch, but then she had to rescue them.
And then Kyoya would bill the wasted coffee to her, she remembered with a cringe. Man, he was a miser…
Precipitate.
No matter what the situation, in the end, a closer relationship with at least one of the hosts was the precipitated result. Sometimes she simply learned something new about them, or sometimes she just got a little closer to understanding their minds.
Stratospheric.
She laughed. She couldn't think of anything for that one, except sometimes everyone's antics made her feel like rocketing off into the stratosphere, even if it wasn't close to the definition.
Weak acid.
That was definitely Tamaki. His overexuberant nature grated on her like her father's sometimes did. While it was manageable, it still made her liken him to a weak acid—you may not initially feel it, but at the end of the day, it just exhausts you from being eaten away.
Trigonal planar.
That was Renge, Haruhi remembered with a cringe. She seemed determined to make a love square of homosexual affections between Haruhi, Tamaki, and the twins.
With a sigh, deciding she was done, she flipped the book open one last time.
Toward the left.
A grin popped onto her face as she remembered the song by Cupid, but then she wanted to bury herself in the corner when she remembered how the twins had made her dance with them to that song for 3 hours straight because they had been bored.
Suddenly that song had a darker tint to it, but after a couple of months, she could look back and at least chuckle at the escapade.
She shut the textbook decisively, determining that she had had enough fun for the moment.
Sometimes the memories that sprouted from chemical boredom were best left untouched.
A/N: Sometimes personal boredom becomes passed on to characters. XD Hope you liked it!