A/n: I do like this fic, but it is quite old, so the structure of it is not great. just, you know, be warned.


1

Ichigo stands at the doors of what looked like some kind of palace. He'd been told it was a school, but the grounds were huge, the long, sloping lawns impossibly green, ringed by complex arches of pale stone. It looked much more like an expensive manor than anything resembling what Karakura High ever did.

He ducked his head around the door. The rich carpet stretched down ornate corridors, branching off towards a huge, wide staircase. All this wealth achieved was making Ichigo unsettled, and he checked and rechecked the bottom of his shoes for gum as he slipped them off.

It had all seemed so far away and so dreamlike, talking about it on Tatsuki's messy bedroom floor. Joining another university seemed like an incredible idea. He had loved—still loved—Karakura Town, and always would do. But it was too thick with memories, too daunting. Its classes were too full of people who knew him and didn't like him, too many question's like "Where's Orihime?" and "Why did Ishida change schools?"

Ichigo stopped suddenly, glancing around a hallway he didn't recognise. He was lost.

Ichigo glanced up at a chandelier as he passed, and then back down to his map. He really had no idea where he was anymore.

There was a commotion inside one of the spare music rooms, a little like loud, and he ducked his head inside.

Oh.

He seemed to have taken a wrong turning somewhere.

It was like stepping into a jungle. The air was hot, and smelled strongly of earth, and huge, real trees bordered the pathways. A parrot squawked and dived over his head. A real, honest-to-god-parrot.

"I thought this was a music room?" Ichigo muttered to himself, stepping inside. Curiosity got the better of him. He ducked through a bunch of palm trees.

"Welcome~"

Ichigo raised his eyebrows.

Seven teenagers, around his age, were dressed as animal tamers. Six of them stood around a throne where the seventh sat, dressed regally, like a blonde foreign prince in ruby-red sheets, a Fennec fox cradled and asleep under one arm.

The blonde prince blinked at him. "Oh. You're... the transfer student, I take it?"

"Kurosaki Ichigo," A teenager with glasses supplied.

The blonde prince stood, resting the fox on his hip as he advanced, smiling in a soft way that really got on Ichigo's nerves. "I never thought the transfer student would be gay..."

Ichigo glared, setting his shoulders straighter.

"So what's your type, eh? Wild? Lolita?" He gestured at the rest of the group as he said it, advancing smoothly.

Ichigo took a step back, glaring harder.

"Or, perhaps..." The prince took Ichigo's chin in his fingers, "Me?"

Ichigo caught the prince's wrist. "It's not like that," He said, firmly. Honestly, what was this guy's problem?

The prince's eyes widened and something like excitement danced in them. "Or, perhaps! You're secretly a girl!"

Ichigo punched him.


Honestly, Ichigo had punched people for less, and much harder. Heck, his dad came at him with more force every morning, (or used to, before he moved out) so he forgot that most people usually didn't bounce back when you floored them.

The prince stumbled back, blood dripping between the fingers he'd clutched to his face.

"Ah, Jesus I'm sorry," Ichigo's anger vanished in an instant. He hung back, unsure of what to do with himself.

The prince slumped back down on his throne while Glasses pressed a napkin to his face and tilted his chin up.

The rest of the strange group seemed kind of unsure of themselves, and the smallest one of them began bawling.

"What happened!?" A muffled voice floated up from the floorboards.

Ichigo approached cautiously, trying to see if there was anything he could do to help. He could feel shame crawling up his spine. "Is there anything I can do to help? I have medical training..." He muttered.

"No," Glasses said sharply. "It's only a nosebleed. It doesn't look like it's broken. There might be some bruising but..."

"How could you do that?!" The little blonde one clutched at the prince's chest, sobbing "Tama-chan is all blooo~y!"

"It's true, it wasn't very nice..." A short, dark-haired boy with bright eyes said, looking over the prince's throne at him.

There was a sharp sound of metal grinding against metal, and the floor in front of the throne opened up, and a short, lively girl in the High school's uniform peered over the edge to study the prince. "Oh no! You're injured, Tamaki-san! How will you ever host now?!"

She swooped around on her heels and glared down at Ichigo. "Brute!"

Ichigo looked sheepish. "I said I was sorry..." He muttered.

"How will he ever host now?!" She demanded again. "All those poor ladies who came to see their prince will go home with their hearts broken, to see him defiled so!" She straightened up her skirts. "There's nothing for it. You'll have to host!"

Ichigo stared. "Me?"

"Yes! Now, quickly," She unfolded her umbrella and leapt gracefully down from her podium. "What type are you?"

Ichigo stared. "Type?"

"Yes!" She stared up at him, gaze sharp and unnerving. "I don't know!" She cried, after a moment of intense consideration.

"It's easy," The prince said, huffily. "Impolite brute!"

The little kid on his lap nodded eagerly, big tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Look, I'm really, really sorry. I've had a hard day today, but I shouldn't have hit you." Ichigo huffed.

The two blondes sent him more hateful glares.

"The Tragic one," The shorter one said, suddenly.

Ichigo blinked.

"'The Tragic One'?" The girl repeated, thoughtfully. "Yes! It's perfect! The punk whose hard life has lead him do some terrible things he regrets, but despite it all, he has a secret heart of gold! Staring into space and remembering past heartaches! Girls will want to get close to him, to let him reveal his secrets to them! You're a genius, Haruhi-kun!"

The shorter one nodded, a little baffled.

Ichigo frowned, "I still don't get it, what's a host? And what do clichéd romances have to do with anything?"

The girl shook her head, curls flowing wildly. "There's no time! There should be some spare clothes in the changing room—quick, quick, quick!"

Ichigo hurried, still confused, but figured he'd caused enough offense for today.


The room was filling quickly with girls and he had, somehow, acquired a python.

It draped itself around Ichigo's neck, and both of them watched warily as the prince posed on his throne. Somebody had bandaged his nose—and put his arm in a sling, for some reason.

He threw an arm up, as more girls poured in. They crowded around him, cooing and worrying.

"What happened?! Tamaki-chan!" One of them asked.

"It's nothing, my ladies," He simpered, eyes glittering with—wait, were those real tears? Ichigo thought he was going to throw up. "I was preparing desperately for your arrival, when a ugly," The prince glanced at Ichigo, "disgusting brute came storming inside and punched me! I restrained him, but unfortunately I am unable to host for you tonight!"

The ladies soaked it up.

"So!" The prince continued, spreading his arms wide, "My good friend—uh..." He stabbed a finger towards Ichigo.

"Ichigo," Ichigo tried hard not to glare.

"...Ichigo will host you ladies tonight." The prince bowed, ushering the ladies towards Ichigo's table.

The ladies all sat, and looked at him expectantly.

Ichigo looked back. The python curved slowly over his front, a warm, heavy rope. "Would you like some tea?" He asked.

The ladies nodded, and he quickly poured some out, only occasionally slopping it all over the saucer.

"Would you all like milk? Where is the milk anyway...?" He glanced around.

After a moment, one of the younger girls said quietly. "It isn't that kind of tea."

Ichigo frowned down at it. "Ah."

After another moment of silence, someone said: "It's probably an exotic tea, like a white tea. To fit with the theme."

"Theme...?" Ichigo frowned, looking around the room. There did seem to be a theme. Maybe jungles, or animal tamers? Something exotic... with all the trees and shit... and real pythons and fennec foxes and bunnies and parrots and lemurs too, who had time enough to do this sort of crap... "Is there a theme every week?" He asked.

The girls seemed unimpressed with his lack of knowledge, and lack of grace. But if rich girls were anything at all, it was well-brought up and polite.

So they stayed. Made awkward conversation for what felt like years and years.

Eventually, after forever and forever, several lifetimes spent in the 4 to 6 pm slot, the girls all left, and Ichigo nearly collapsed.

What a horrible way to spend an evening... Ichigo squinted at the half-empty cups of tea on the ornate table-top. He was glad he'd never have to do that again. Honestly, girls had never really been into him to start off with... well... Orihime was, but Orihime was hardly average.

"Well... that was..." Glasses frowns down at him from a distance. Ichigo lifted his head.

"Awful!" The prince, free of bandages now, announced rather happily, "You simply don't have any talent!"

Ichigo shrugged, frown returning. "Yeah, well..."

The short one smiled at him. "You weren't too bad... you just need practice."

Ichigo nodded. "So, I can go now, huh?"

"Yes," The glasses guy says, "Same time tomorrow."

Ichigo shot up, glaring at him. "What?! I attended your dumb-ass club, I talked to those girls for hours, and I filled in for the prince, what more do you want?"

"Yes... but you filled in rather poorly. I'm afraid those customers weren't happy with the way you behaved, and the host club just can't stand for something like that. There has to be other ways you can pay back for assaulting Tamaki."

Ichigo glared. "You know what? No. Thanks." He stormed towards the dressing room.

"Of course, I would have to inform the staff."

"Go ahead!" Ichigo called, throwing open the door.

"Remembering of course, Tamaki is the son of Yuzuru Suoh, the chairman of Ouran Highschool."

The penny dropped.

Ichigo slammed the door.


"I think we got off on the wrong foot yesterday." Ichigo said the next day.

It's the tone that Tamaki finds strange. Ichigo isn't sucking up to him, he just sounds tired. Like he's sick of being angry. Tamaki doesn't know what to say.

"That's okay," Haruhi says, ushering him to sit with them.

Ichigo sits opposite Haruhi, and tries to get comfortable.

"I'll introduce everyone. I'm Haruhi Fujioka. I got in through a scholarship, like you." He gestures at Glasses, "That's Kyoya Ootori, he's the 'cool' type. He handles the finances." He flicks his wrist towards the prince, "That's Tamaki Suoh, he's the 'prince charming' type, as you already know..."

The two red-headed doppelgangers were twins Kaoru and Hikaru Hitachiin, 'Little devil' types; the little blonde was Mitsukuni "honey" Haninozuka who was the cute one; and the big one was... Ichigo frowned, Tadashi... no, Takashi... ah, he'd remember eventually.

"So, why did you move?" Haruhi asked, pouring them some tea.

Ichigo had been so relaxed by his presence the question caught him off-guard. It was true; everyone seemed gentler and calmer when he was the focus of attention. "Ah-huh?" He asked.

"Why did you transfer? Karakura Town's very far away, it's probably a big change."

"Ah."

Ichigo watched steam drift from his tea, damp coils of pale ribbons ghosting over his face. There was the question, the million-dollar question. Sink or swim. Yes or no. Truth or lie.

It would be easy to lie. Half-truths, even, would be easier. He'd fallen out with his friends, he'd dropped far in his grades, he hated the way the floor squeaked and the empty spaces behind desks. The truth was nothing he had ever given, not completely, not to anyone. It made his head ache, remembering what he could and couldn't reveal. Keeping the cards close to his chest.

He wanted to, desperately wanted to, be truthful.

So he was.

"I.." He cradled the tea close to his chest, feeling the weight of the necklace against his chest. The cheap flower hair-clips tied around a thin silver chain. "...a great friend of mine passed away, suddenly, around half a year ago. It was my fault... I couldn't bring her help fast enough. At school, I always saw her empty place and I couldn't concentrate. So I changed schools." He smiled into his tea, "I miss her but—"

"Ichiiggooo~~!" Honey leapt into his lap and curled around his chest, sopping. "Don't worry, Ichigo!"

"Um," Ichigo put down his tea.

Tamaki clasped his outstretched hand, and pressed it to his chest, eyes shining. "Don't worry, Ichigo." He said; voice smooth and poetic.

"I wasn't worried," Ichigo said, to no-one in particular.

"Ichigo, you have a home here, in the host club! Starting today, you are an official member, and my son! I will teach you all I know about hosting, and eventually, after lots and lots of hard-work you will become a magnificent host!"

Ichigo smiled a little grimly, but smile nonetheless.


Ichigo heard a noise behind him and he swung around, chest bare and necklace bouncing off his collar bone.

Tamaki grinned sheepishly, and shrunk out of the changing rooms, flushed, with a muttered sorryjustcheckingsorrypleasedon'tkillme.


-(cross-posted with ao3)