Disclaimer: I don't own Ouran Highschool Host Club, ect ect.
I was sopping wet from the waist down, and as I hurried into school I heaved a sigh. "What a fabulous first day of school." I said laced with sarcasm as I rung out the hem of my yellow skirt. Certainly, I didn't expect for there to be a downpour, and I only had a thin raincoat that did nothing for my lower body. I surely didn't want to ruin my uniforms—they were prettier than the horrible plaid I had worn during my trip in the states. I used to attend Ouran back in elementary school. For my final year in middle school, I was sent to go back to the states to live with my father. As I attended St. Angelique's Prepatory Academy I was able to perfect on my English and be with my father, a famous actor, while living the lap of American luxury. But now, I am back in Japan, and that means I'm back in Ouran for high school. "Only the best for my little flower!" That is what my father always tells me.
Joy.
I kind of don't look really Ouran-y, at least in my opinion. I'm over 5'5" and my feet are a size eleven in American shoes, so in Japan they would be about…size twenty-seven and a half? Anyways, they kind of…stick out from my long—yet a little thick—legs. My black hair goes a little past my shoulders, and it falls in slightly frizzed curls. I wear electric pink wire rimmed glasses that sometimes slide down my small button nose. "Hello, nice to see you again." I put on a small smile on my round face to a passing student. I should try to make a good impression. Now and then, don't know whether I should listen to my mother or not about these things.
My mother's a chef that owns a high-profile restaurant. It's sort of the family profession for her side, only she wasn't expected to become somewhat of a celebrity herself. My dad…was never expected to go into show business. His parents wanted him to work in the medical field. I assume he did, in a way; he once guest starred on one of those hospital dramas.
But that's enough about them. Back to my story.
My name is Hanako Saranson. My father is American actor Paul Saranson, and my mother is chef-to-the-stars Mako Honda.My family's money, combined with my smarts, has gotten me into the Ouran Private Academy. Yes, although I can be a bit spacey and forgetful at times I can shine when I have to! I am in my first year, and barely made it into Class A—for the moment. The funny thing with having a family full of "stars" is that any one of them could fizzle out at any moment, and with their fame goes their money. I'm trying to keep that in mind because I've come to terms with reality. However, it's kind of hard; I'm part of a wealthy family, and going to this school full of other affluent people doesn't exactly help. With exquisite lunches and even ornate washrooms, I can't forget how much I've got in my purse.
Which reminds me, I've heard of a particular new student. I think we should get acquainted; the once familiar halls I used to roam are now oh so new to me.
With that notion, I have decided to explore the Ouran School!
----
The bells rang and notified us for our lunch. Sometimes, my mother would pack me my own bento box but she decided to let me choose this year. I scanned the masses of students happily eating their fancy lunches. I reached into my backpack (a rarity in this school, most students carry a school approved briefcase of sorts) and took out a sandwich bag filled with peanuts I had been saving from the plane rides. I had been snacking little by little between each class so I wouldn't over eat when it came time for lunch—brilliant, no? My mother said to pace yourself with small snacks, and thanks to my big breakfast (I had requested something more Western, so she had made me fluffy waffles) I still had some nuts to spare. I also plan on joining some extracurricular clubs as well to keep my hands out of trouble…Oh! There's someone that brought their lunch.
I made my way over to that young man with his lunch from home. I had come with that answer easily, he may have had a feminine face; but his bare chest had lead me to believe he was indeed a boy. "Hello." I greeted him with a smile. "Are you a new student here?"
"Ah, yes. I'm Fujioka Haruhi." He looked up and smiled lightly. I arched my eyebrows and put some peanuts in my mouth before I could say anything stupid. He was very good at making me blush. Was it his job, I wonder…?
crunch crunch
"So, uh, what are your favorite subjects, Fujioka?" I started off, trying to strike conversation.
"I enjoy English and History class." He said, eating his food in a somewhat dainty manner. At least, that's what I thought.
And then they arrived.
Madmen.
Well, good looking madmen.
"There you are my daughter!" A blond hair blue eyed boy approached us and sat at our table. He looked older than we did…maybe a second year student?
"Fujioka's your…daughter?" I sealed my bag and put it in my backpack. So this Haruhi character really was a woman? She didn't look like one, more like a flat paper doll, cute nonetheless.
The second year blinked twice, and then laughed a little. "No, no. Haruhi is like a daughter to me. And I am like his father to him. My host club, we are like a big, happy family. I am the Daddy, Suoh Tamaki, pleased to make your acquaintance. And you are?"
My, my. We're not in Florida anymore, are we?
Before I could utter a sound, a dark haired boy in sleek glasses stood behind Suoh. "This is Saranson Hanako. She attended school here from elementary up until she left to America to finish up her last year of middle school. She's in class 1-A…her parents are celebrities."
My face was a pale hue of pink. I could admit to my dad being a celebrity, but my mother is just a chef. I was suddenly finding myself embarrassed. I may know her only as mom, but the country knew her as Mako-chan from her cooking television show. "My mother's a chef, not a celebrity…" I said in defense. But really, what did I have to defend? My mother was somewhat of a star, I guess. "How did you find all this out?"
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you." He smirked devilishly as his glasses gleamed with a spark. Remind me not to upset this guy.
Then, a small boy accompanied by a tall man joined our little table. "Haru-chan! Your friend's mom is Mako-chan?! She makes such delicious cakes…" Now the small boy, I remember seeing. I've only spotted the boy once; he was happily eating a whole cake by himself, down to the little roses made of icing. Even at mom's place, this man was with him. I looked up at his silent face. Very somber. Looks like the kind of guy that you might not want to upset either. He's most likely in his final year. "I'm Mitsukuni Haninozuka, and this is Takashi Morinozuka!" The small boy introduced himself. "We're third years."
Mitsukuni looked quite young, but Takashi could fit the role. He's just about as tall as my father.
Lastly, two twins with blazing red hair joined our crowded table.
I remember them! They're the Hitachiin twins from History class.
"Haruhiiii…" They chimed simultaneously. "Who's your friend?" One with hair parted to the right asked him. "Isn't she in our class? The foreigner?" The one with hair parted to the left asked her. "Her hair is wiry." The two of them said in concert. "You should straighten it."
I looked down at the table to hide my face. My hair wasn't that bad, was it? Coming from mixed backgrounds has helped my hair be a bit more tamed than it could have been. My mother's Asian blood made it so. Anyways, this lunch had turned out to be quite…exciting, to say the least. But I had one question to ask.
----
This whole host club was a new subject to me. I repeated the term to the 'man of the family' in my purest English. "Host-club?"
Suoh smiled with a sparkle as he mirrored my words in English as well. "Yes. A host club," The father of the family started off.
"It is where we seven handsome men with time on their hands can spend time with ladies with idle time as well." As soon as Suoh finished his explanation, the bell rang clearly and loudly.
"If you'd ever like to visit us, we're located in the third music room." The host club king beamed again. I must be going crazy; it's as if there are roses swirling around everywhere. "See you!" He bid me a good-bye in English, and disappeared with the rest of the lot in another poof of rose petals.
"Oh? It looks like Fujioka forgot something…a case for his contacts?" I took the small case and slipped it into my backpack. I might make a little commute to the host club after all. I just hope there aren't too many roses. For a girl named for flowers I can get a bit watery eyed.
The host club…my overall opinion of them?
Like I stated before, good-looking madmen.
A/N: Well? How was it? This is my first OHSHC fanfiction, so I hope I did alright. Ah, well reviews are much appreciated. Thank you very much!