She wouldn't play Cinderella. She didn't like the idea of a large poufy dress, and seemed much more attracted to the raggedy maid's dress that had been artfully torn and shredded by the Hitachiin twins. These made him depressed and wail and moan and grumble and then seek out Kyouya to see if he could talk some sense into the reluctant heroin of their story.

-

"Kyouya—"

"No."

"B-but, please!! It doesn't work any other way!"

"No."

"As your King, I demand yo—"

"No." Kyouya adjusted the glasses on the bridge of his nose and glared at the blond, who pouted and whimpered a bit. "If Haruhi does not want to play a part in your silly fantasy play, than I am not going to force her. It would be like dressing up a dog to play the role of a dragon."

There went Tamaki's notion of using Antoinette. He sulked.

-

He'd practiced playing 'A Dream is A Wish Your Heart Makes' so many times on the piano that the musical notes were engrained in his mind's eye. He stopped looking at it as a pretty piece of music, and started evaluating the tones, the sharps, and the style of the song. In the end, it seemed a little too happy for him.

-

"You want us to play who?"

"That's mean, Tono."

"Do we look that evil to you?!"

He gaped at them. "You two are the—the vile, evil, devilish doppelgangers!! You two fit the part of the evil stepsisters perfectly! You hear, perfectly!!"

They scowled. And then simultaneous light bulbs seemed to go off in their heads. "So...Haruhi would be our sister?"

Tamaki nodded vigorously, unaware of where the conversation was going. "Yes, yes!"

"And...We could be around her—a lot more than the prince would be."

The twin to the left (gut instinct told Tamaki it was Hikaru this time) turned to his brother and grinned. "Hell, we could even work in a bit of the brotherly—I mean, sisterly—love, eh Hikaru?"

He was wrong. The twins continued this chat, almost as if he wasn't there.

"You're right, Kaoru. And we could adjust that dress—make it more low-cut. Maybe get Haruhi to wear a push-up bra."

"Shouldn't have that much problem making her."

"After all—"

And here they turned to leer at him, speaking in unison. "We are her big sisters."

The corner of the Third Music Room had a mushroom cultivation in a matter of seconds, and the air was full of derisive cackling.

-

Hunny's eyes were wide and his face unmoving. There was a blotch of frosting on both his cheeks and the small senior made no move to remove it, instead simply gaping at his blond underclassman with something slightly akin to surprise, horror and utter blankness on his face. His cousin, the tallest of the Host Club, glanced from Tamaki to his charge and picked up a napkin to wipe his face.

"Tama-chan...There are limits on friendship."

Tamaki visibly wilted, his head slumping forward to smack the table before jumping back up with the watery, irresistible and utterly irresistible puppy dog eyes. "B—but—but Hunny-senpai! Wouldn't you like to see Haruhi in a dress! Witness her transformation from utterly poor and destitute like the commoner she is now, to something grand and captivating! If we go through with this, perhaps this will spark the beginning of real life's changes and she will, one day, be my bride and allow me to dote upon her! And how will she ever understand how I dote on her unless she's experienced the opposite end of the stick!! And even then, she needs friends—in some cases, mice—to be there to tell her when to just go for it."

"But...Tama-chan, I don't want to be a mouse!! They're scary!!" Oh, and Hunny-senpai rebuffed against the Puppy-Dog-Pout with his very own brand of cuteness: The—I'm-So-Cute-That-If-I-Cry-Fangirls-Will-Kill-You-Pout!

"And I do not want to place a mouse, either." Mori said in his deep, booming voice.

Tamaki sulked.

"I'd rather be a bunny!!" Hunny proclaimed brightly, giggling and reaching for another piece of strawberry cake. "If I can be a bunny, Tama-chan, I'll do it!"

"Really!?!?!?" He brightened.

Hunny giggled and nodded brightly, and Mori gave no inclination that he was going to disagree. It was settled. "Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!!! You won't regret this, senpai!"

-

Renge sipped commoner's coffee with too much milk and too much sugar to really be considered coffee, watching him over the lip of her cup. Tamaki waited tensely in the silence, feeling precarious sweat drops pouring off him as he awaited the female manager's answer to his question.

Finally, when it seemed that Renge would either drown in the contents of that never ending cup or that she was chewing the dregs, the small woman lowered the cup, making a big show of placing the tea cup in the perfect center of the saucer before turning her honey-accented eyes to his uneasy amethyst ones.

"A romantic ploy between you and Fujioka-kun, you say?" she repeated. "With the theme of Cinderella...And you need..." A smirk. "The fairy god mother to forced Fujioka into a classy ballroom dress."

Tamaki nodded violently. He had already offered her rights to his house (and underwear) and permission to tape a sequel to her little video, and now all that remained was waiting to see if she would accept. This story would not be complete without a fairy god mother.

A sanctimonious little nod and then she smiled. "I approve, Suoh. I knew you have come potential!"

-

Glass slippers seemed unreasonable, not to mention like they'd because Haruhi blisters if she were to have to run around and Host in them. So in the end, Tamaki took the pair of crystal shoes and shoved them deep into his closer before selecting a pair of really nice, leather loafers for the commoner to wear instead.

-

They did not need a stage for this grand production—after all, as Tamaki insisted—if was for the ladies. Their club room sufficed, and upon opening the door, the women of Ouran found a rather...disturbing sight:

Morinozuka Takashi and Haninozuka Mitsukuni in bright pink bunny suits, hopping around (one with pink frosting covering his artificial whiskers) and singing, "Cinderellie, Cinderellie."

Kyouya, dressed head to toe in a black and purple gown with over exaggerated hair extensions and make-up, lounging about on a fainting-couch and snapping orders at everyone (mainly the bunnies, seeing as everyone else was occupied). He looked strangely naked without his notebook, and felt off balance without it, but the sparkly jewelry compensated more than enough for it.

Hikaru and Kaoru were also dressed in flowy gowns, not as grand as Kyouya's, but with bigger fake breasts and of brighter colors, making them seem younger as they fondled, poked and allover forced Haruhi into a sparkly, white and wonderfully pretty dress over the rags of her counterpart while she still wore loafers that were too big for her and giving her blisters. The girl (no, she was a boy) was complaining and squirming within their grasps, barely able to breath under the combined weight of her classmates and the over protective senpai who was dressed to the nil as a prince, complaining loudly about the doppelgangers molesting her.

Renge cackled in the background, enjoying the chaos she had helped to produce and then making her way over to semi-hit on Kyouya.

There was silence for a moment—it was rare to see the boys of the Ouran High School Host Club before their perfection was set and they were ready for guests—as the girls watched this and the boys realized they were being watched and turned to stare back at them, mouths open and frozen in their stances—hop, molestation, scream, lounge and flustered dramatic fatherly—before the Third Music Room exploded in a violently loud 'KYAAAAAAAAA' that threatened the roof of the school.

The twins let go of Haruhi as Tamaki launched at them again. She fell backwards, him on top of her, their mouths connected, her shoes fell off, her dress winding around them both and trapping them there. And they lived happily ever after—until the other women of Ouran got their hands on them.