Chapter One: A Change of Type
"Kiiro?" her mother's eyes narrowed. "Honey, you don't have to change your name just because you're moving." she laid her hands on the book in her lap, prepared for yet another one of 'those' conversations with her second daughter. First it was "Mom, I want to go to Japan.". Then it was, "Mom, I want to live in Japan.". Now it's...
"Mom, I want to change my name." Alona tried once more. "It's just, you know, don't you want me to fit in a little more?" she appealed. "I mean, an English name is pretty useless unless you're in a country that speaks English." she smirked, sitting down across from her Mom. Debate was her forte. She had learned to think out her arguments long before they happened, watching her older sister wage war with her parents had trained her well.
"Alona, don't you think it's enough for me to let you move so far away?" her mother's shoulders slumped, her expression became a mixture of exasperation and disbelief. "On your own?"
"Yeah, Mom, but, I just..." Alona stopped, what was it she was really wanting to say? "I just...Alona, it really just doesn't sound like me, it sounds like someone else."
"And Kiiro sounds more you?" her father entered the room, tailing the men carrying the last of Alona's things. "I had an artist for a daughter." he chuckled. "I'll have you know, artist, that Alona was the name of your great-great-grandmother. It's a good family name." he set a hand on her head like he used to when she was about seven.
"Yes." she grinned up at him. "It means yellow."
"You're naming yourself after your favorite color?" her mother sighed, feeling a headache coming on.
"Yeah, but, I don't know, it sounds nice." she continued to smile.
There was a long silence were her father observed his daughter. Her mother was currently wondering where she went wrong, but all he could think of was how this whole situation really was so...Alona. So he smiled back, ruffled his daughter's curls and shrugged, "Well, I suppose you've changed continents. Why not change your name?" he consented with the understanding only a father could have.
Her grin widened impossibly, "Thanks, Dad."
Her mother could only groan, "This is where we went wrong, Richard! I play the tough parent just so you can follow behind me to undermine my decisions!" she huffed, earning only laughter.
This was the kind of conversation being held in the first estate of the Harper family on the last night of Alona's residence. The summer before Alona had begged her parents to allow her to vacation in Japan, the country with which she was wholly enamored. And when she came back, she had begged her parents to allow her to live there, all on her own. Her father, who had the tendency to spoil his daughters, was confident that Alona was perfectly capable of living on her own and handling herself outside of the nest. Her mother, however, wasn't willing to have to cross an ocean just to see her.
Her father pecked her forehead, "Now, go spend some time with your sister before it gets to be too late. You'll need to tuck in early for tomorrow."
Alona hopped up, hugging her Dad and her Mom, who was still in a state of utter disbelief.
As she left the room her mother, Marie, shot a glare at Richard, "I can't believe you're letting her move so far away! And to change her name!" she shook her head in shock.
"We'll see her plenty of times. Plus the world isn't as segregated as it was when we were little. Do you have any idea how much our phone bills are?" he joked. And to his wife's continued silence he added, "Alona's got a good head on her shoulders, she's the least of our worries. Ouran is a fabulous school, and the estate we have there is in a great neighborhood. It's fully staffed, and it has state-of-the-art security. There's nothing to worry about."
His wife sighed in defeat, "She's really grown up..."
"When did her favorite color stop being blue?" Richard wondered aloud.
Alona, newly christened Kiiro, departed from the States early the next morning, taking the first flight from Los Angeles, California to Tokyo, Japan. There was something empowering about flying somewhere alone at sixteen. Especially knowing that the home that awaited her was her's alone, in a new country. She'd be going to a new school. She was becoming someone new.
She settled into her first class seat, indulging herself in her own thoughts and her favorite music for most of the ride. After the long flight, just as the wheels of the plane touched the runway, her phone pinged, she unlocked it, screen illuminating with the new text.
"Welcome to Japan."
She texted back: "How did you know I just landed, Kyouya?" she couldn't get over how slightly creepy her old friend's seemingly psychic abilities were sometimes.
To which he replied, "Lucky guess."
Kiiro Harper was the middle child in her family. She had an older sister, Margot, who was currently on an extended vacation in Europe living the life of a rich twenty-two-year-old, and a younger sister, Aneleigh, a bookish girl who was currently studying the rest of her summer away. Her parents headed the Harper Relaxation Incorporation, a rapidly growing business that funded and founded hotels, resorts, restaurants and the like, anything really that was both a good investment and could be considered "relaxing". At a young age, Kiiro had taken up the arts, and after much tutoring and practice, she had come into some renown in certain circles. Her forte was paint. She had wanted to move to Japan after being influenced exponentially after her summer there. The architecture, the clothing, the food, and the culture had never really left her brush after she had toured the island. She was becoming what some might call a Grade A Japanophile. After her flight, she barely made it to her new bed before she collapsed from jet lag. She awoke to a call from her mother, making sure she was alright, and then she fully woke making short work of rearranging her room with the help of the household staff. She had two days until she started school again. Ouran Academy, Class 2A. When she returned from familiarizing herself with some of her new area on the second day, she discovered her uniform in her closet. In equal parts the puffy, light yellow dress was hideous and cute. Kiiro couldn't quite make up her mind about the thing. Her previous uniform had been less elegant dress and more schoolgirlish. Now she studied herself in her full length mirror, uncertain of whether or not she liked what she saw. The white cuffs were too tight, she made a mental note to look up the limitations on altering the uniform in the student handbook.
Over the summer she had let her hair grow past its usual shoulder-length look, now her chocolate-colored curls reached past her shoulder blades. The yellow went well with her skin tone, she was the kind of paper white that was rare for sunny southern California. Freckles dispersed themselves around her nose and cheeks, resting beneath wide, chocolate eyes. Her hourglass was mostly concealed in the bulk of her uniform. She adjusted her rectangular, plastic-rimmed glasses, it could be much worse.
Then again, it could be better.
'This place is gigantic.' Kiiro thought as she stepped out of her family car. The courtyard was probably the size of her manor. 'And extravagant.' She noted the fountain at center stage and the clock tower, the ritzy architecture and the general sprawl of the place. 'And impossibly pink.' Which was true, every visible building was painted pink, and some of the interior through the windows even. She was afraid she might get lost on the way to her classroom.
Sun came down in streaks over the sparsely populated courtyard. She was here early. It was required for new students to arrive approximately forty minutes before class so they could be led on a brief tour of the school buildings. Once she made her way inside, she took note of how quiet the halls were. Along the corridors, before the windows, intricately designed vases stuffed with vibrant red roses resided. The floors were made of marble, the ceilings were high and painted.
"How romantic." Kiiro found herself thinking aloud. "This place looks more like a girl's school than my old girl's school." she smiled.
She made her way to Classroom 2A.
"Good morning, Miss Harper." her class chairman greeted when she opened the door.
There before her stood the president of class 2A, Kyouya Ootori, and the vice-president, Ayame Jounochi.
"Hello." she smiled at them, exchanging bow for curtsy and curtsy for curtsy.
Kyouya introduced Ayame to Kiiro and Kiiro to Ayame. For a few brief minutes they discussed the typical school day and schedules and the kind of schoolwork she would have to do to catch up to the rest of the class, seeing as how it was the second trimester she was transferring into. But then Kyouya began the tour as obligated.
Kiiro knew Kyouya rather well. She had known him for years, in actuality. The raven-haired boy was a good friend she had met at the age of seven. They had an Internet penpal sort of friendship. Though they had met face-to-face a handful of times.
She followed him through libraries, important classrooms, art rooms, and the like. In a state of awe at how extravagant the academy was, Kiiro was mostly silent. Of course her previous private academy had been expansive and decadent, but this was almost too much. She liked it.
"I had never guessed that your school would be so...much." she stated once the general tour was concluded in a covered walkway that overlooked the courtyard.
"Ouran Academy holds high standards of excellence and elegance." Kyouya replied coolly, glasses glinting.
"It's definitely unlike any place I've experienced." she agreed.
"Mm. How has your stay been so far, then, Kiiro?" he asked politely.
She grinned at the use of her new moniker, a little bit pleased, "It's been wonderful!" she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "I went exploring yesterday. I didn't get too far, just out of the immediate neighborhood."
Kyouya smirked back, his trademarked half smile, "If you want to go exploring, I could show you the sights. It wouldn't be the first time I played guide, after all."
Kiiro's grin reappeared, "That's it, isn't it? Your 'host voice'."
He raised an eyebrow, "Host voice?"
"Which reminds me, what time are club activities?" she queried, looking down at the fountain below.
"After school. Would you like to visit the Host Club? Tamaki is relatively eager to meet you."
"Yes, actually. A Host Club sounds like such a bizarre thing. I'm excited to see what it's like."
"Bizarre is an understatement most of the time." Kyouya mused.
The first bell toned over the speaker system, getting their attention. Kyouya led her back to their classroom.
Having transferred in at the beginning of the second trimester, Kiiro wasn't quite looking forward to the heavy workload she would need to catch up. Kiiro was naturally introverted and, almost by proxy, advanced in pursuits of the mind. Few students were allowed to transfer into Ouran if they had truly only just finished their sophomore year of high school. But, Kiiro had passed her exams with flying colors for the sole purpose of transferring. She had to pass with near-perfect marks for her mother to allow her to move to Japan.
So, she buckled down and took notes.
Her morning classes passed in this way. Her lunch hour passed while she began to get to her substantial homework. Her art classes were a respite. And then, like that the first day of school was over and Kyouya was leading her to the Third Music Room. Where the lavish Host Club resided. A club where handsome boys entertained young ladies with too much time on their hands. Kiiro felt rather odd thinking about a host club. She had never even heard about them until Kyouya had told her about it years ago. It took him near an hour to explain it to her. She wasn't even sure why she was going, she definitely didn't have too much time on her hands, and she didn't believe she was very interested in boys. She would have to look into her reasoning later.
When they opened the door, said boys were already assembled, getting ready to open for business.
"Welcome!" came the unison greeting.
The boys stood at the center of the room, looking like something straight out of a shoujo manga. Kiiro smiled, a little at a loss for words.
The blond, at the center, was in Kiiro's class. Tamaki Suoh, King of the Host Club, Son of the Chairman of Ouran, spoke first, walking up to Kiiro in a flamboyant show, taking her hand, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Harper, I'm-"
"Tamaki Suoh, the princely type." Kiiro grinned, seemingly not phased by the boy's charm.
Kyouya chuckled as he passed the blond.
"So, Kyouya does talk about us, then?" Tamaki grinned, seeming more than a bit pleased.
"Gentlemen." Kyouya addressed the rest of the club. "This is Kiiro Harper, a friend of mine. She very recently moved here from the United States."
"I am in your care." Kiiro added the customary saying with a curtsy.
"I've heard quite a bit about you, Miss Harper." Tamaki continued with his meeting her.
"And I you." she smiled in reply.
She glanced at the other boys, there was the short, brunette with large brown eyes, "Haruhi Fujioka, the natural type.", there was a set of ginger-haired completely identical twins, "Hikaru and Kaoru Hitachiin, the little devil types.", a boy that looked to be about ten with honey-colored hair and a pink bunny rabbit in tow, "Mitsukuni Haninozuka, the loli-shota type.", and a tall, black-haired boy with Mitsukuni on his shoulders, "And Takashi Morinozuka, the strong, silent type."
Kiiro listed them all off with confidence, though she had never met them before. Their images conveyed their type eerily well.
"So, you're one of Kyouya's friends?" the twins broke from the pack, circling her and eyeing her with duplicate gold shaded eyes.
"We weren't aware..." one began.
"...that Kyouya had friends..." the other continued.
"...outside the club." they met up and quickly became mirror images of each other, leaning against one another with their arms linked.
"I do have a personal life, you know." Kyouya interjected, unamused.
"I am, I think." her lips curled upwards, astounded. 'Amazing. Everything they do, they do in unison.'
"It's nice to meet you, Kiir-chan~!" came the sugary voice of Haninozuka, or Hani, for short. Despite his appearance, Hani was a senior. "Any friend of Kyou-chan is a friend of ours~! Would you like to try some of our cake~?"
"Good afternoon and thank you, but I'm not hungry, Haninozuka-sempai." Kiiro politely declined the cake. 'Kyouya was right. He does look like an elementary student.'
Mori looked on quietly, absorbing the goings-on, but not feeling the need to interject.
'Silent, indeed.' Kiiro noted.
"Go ahead and make yourself comfortable, Miss Harper, club is about to start." Haruhi said to her with a positively cute smile.
"Yes, thank you."
Kiiro took a seat across from Kyouya, ever the one to seek familiarity in new surroundings, and within minutes girls started filing in. It was so strange, Kiiro had never witnessed anything as odd as a host club. She watched as Tamaki cooed over various "princesses", as Haruhi smiled and told the quaint stories of the commoner variety. Hani was as childlike in character as in appearance, sweetly laughing at his guests and chatting with Mori, who responded with "Hm." rather often.
The twins, that was the weirdest part. If she didn't know better, which she wasn't completely sure that she did at this point, she'd say they were acting extremely "close". As in, more than sibling close. As in, twincest close. Hugging and holding hands and whispering things. The girls were going crazy over it, though.
"From my observations, you wouldn't be the type to request Hikaru and Kaoru." Kyouya interjected when she caught her staring at the Hitachiin brothers with a confused expression, "It's true that the "Brotherly Love" act is a bit overwhelming at first."
"Good, so it's not just me." she smiled, turning her attention to him.
He sat with his chin in his hand, his laptop open beside him, his grey eyes watching from behind his glasses, "So, what are you doing here, Kiiro?"
"Well, I wanted to check out what this club was."
"No, I mean, why move to Japan?" he sat up straight. "I can understand a love of foreign lands and cultures. But couldn't that wait until after school?"
Kiiro gave it some thought, "I...I don't rightly know, I mean, yeah, it could have. But, I really like it here. Like I have to be here. I sort of felt a pull I guess." Upon seeing the still-questioning look from the raven-haired boy she added, "One of those artistic types, yes?" she smirked.
Kyouya let it drop.
After a few minutes of silence, Kiiro got out a sketch pad from her bag, sketching out what she saw, almost absentmindedly.
She stopped mid-sketch, asking, "I'm curious, and I hadn't asked before, why did you help found this club, Kyouya?" she turned back to him, who in turn looked up from the screen. His curious expression made Kiiro look away. "Er, well, more, do you host as well? Because I mean you don't have any guests right now. Well, it could be because I'm here, I should move right." she downgraded into speaking to herself.
"Stay." Kyouya raised an eyebrow with a half smile, getting her attention. "I don't always get guests. To be honest, I crunch numbers more than I entertain customers. I'm also in charge of our website, and our shop, and the production of our products. I could go on. We even change into costumes sometimes, rather culturally. Of course it's at the whim of our King." he gestured at the blond, who was still busy charming the ladies sitting with him on one of the overstuffed sofas.
"That sounds like quite a bit of work for a vice-president." she weakly smiled. 'So Tamaki's really just the poster child.'
"You know, Kiiro," he began, "if you're interested, we could always use the extra help. And what with your artistic ability, I believe you would make a wonderful Art and Culture Director. Whenever we did a cultural showpiece, I could consult you. But only if you're interested, of course."
"Of course I'm interested!" Kiiro chirped, grinning to beat the band.
Kyouya smirked back, lacing his hands together, pleased.
And that's how Kiiro became the infamous Host Club's rather overlooked Arts and Culture Director.