Kyouya set his notebook on his desk and regarded it as a captain regarded a private who stepped out of line.
As the teacher droned on about the evils of English in passive voice, Kyouya berated the terrified notebook. How dare it fail him now?
The breeze from the air conditioner ruffled it helplessly. No matter how hard he glared at it, the pages would become no less full.
Kyouya was out of paper. The greatest villainy was, obviously, not beyond Evil's daring.
Tamaki was sitting next to him, absently clicking his ballpoint pen against the surface of his desk. His own notebook was lying before him, clean and innocent.
Kyouya looked from the virgin paper to his friend's face. Slowly, he reached into his pocket and took out the Official Ouran Host Club Keychain, which included the miniature likenesses of each member and was now available for order at the Club's website. His arm reached across the chasm that lay between their desks, and then brought the chain before Tamaki's eyes. Tamaki focused on it, and followed the dancing figures obediently.
Kyouya's other hand was around the spine of Tamaki's notebook when the teacher said, "Ootori-kun, will you please correct the sentence I have written on the board?"
Then all eyes were fixed on him, and the teacher blinked, realizing too late that his top student was not paying attention. In fact, he appeared to be entertaining the second-top student with a child's toy.
Kyouya looked at the board for a moment, careful to keep the chain jingling. Studiously, he rattled off, "Where you have written, 'The prisoner was locked in the jail,' the passive voice is expressed in 'was locked'. To correct it, write 'The state locked the prisoner in jail,' or use another acceptable noun."
The class was silent, besides the persistent jingling of the keychain and, now, Tamaki's entertained little giggles.
After a long moment, the teacher decided that he liked his salary better than his sanity and filed the image under 'to be repressed'. He looked back at his book. "Correct. That's… correct, Ootori-san."
Kyouya straightened in his seat, bringing Tamaki's notebook with him. Without the keychain, Tamaki blinked and then settled back into the bored-but-almost-listening Class Mode.
Notebook secured. Mission accomplished.
The club was bustling. It was moments such as these, when the room was full of a mostly-controlled chaos, that Kyouya liked best. He knew that the details were perfect, and all of the definable variables had been defined. From here on out, it was up to the hosts to do their part. Kyouya's performance was finished.
Haruhi appeared unobtrusively at his side and observed, "Everyone else sure is busy today, Kyouya-sempai."
Kyouya smiled at her with neutrality. "You had fewer requests than normal, Haruhi-kun."
She shrugged. "I don't mind. It's sort of fun to watch everyone hard at work, since I normally don't get to. Is there any errand that you need done, or something?"
"No. I'm content. Thank you for offering." He looked down at his (Tamaki's) notebook and quickly jotted down another line of characters.
Haruhi wasn't one to look over shoulders. She asked, "What are you working on? I thought that you were done."
Kyouya looked over at her, sizing her up. There was no risk in telling her, and the potential for gain. "In approximately four weeks' time, Tamaki will have a birthday. I am planning a celebration."
Haruhi blinked her large eyes, and asked, "And the fact that Tamaki-sempai hasn't been singing it from the roofs means that he doesn't know, right?"
"I compliment you on your perspicacity," Kyouya acknowledged.
"Who's invited?" she persisted.
Kyouya blinked down at her. "Everyone, of course."
"The girls, too?"
"Ah. No."
Her eyes turned forward. "Why not?"
"You and Tamaki are the only two members of the club who do not seem to affect a different persona in the company of clients. It would be more intimate and comfortable without their presence."
Haruhi pushed her hair behind her ear absentmindedly, and then said, "Well, how can I help?"
Kyouya mentally envisioned the page in his other notebook – it was so troublesome, changing them out, because information became less accessible – upon which he had written the half-finalized list of assignments. Mori would assist in heavy lifting or rearrangement of furniture in decorating. Hunny, local connoisseur of foods and desserts, would put together a list of proposed dishes. The twins, sons of a designer, would be in charge of the aesthetic portion of decorating. He would be shifting around meetings, appointments, and scheduling conflicts, as well as overseeing the budget and final details overall.
Last year, this was all of the resources as his disposable. Could there be room for, as it were, another cook in the kitchen?
For Haruhi, heavy lifting was out of the question. If placed in control of decorations, she might accidentally set something on fire, or something equally unhelpful. Hunny was authoritative and somewhat vicious about foodstuffs, and it could be quite a shock to the uninitiated.
He might need to create a new department entirely.
"Entertain Tamaki to prevent him from suspecting anything. Or, as is more likely, from allowing his curiosity to spoil anything unduly."
"I can do that. Only while everyone else is off in some secret meeting, though, right?"
"Logically."
"I can do that."
"I have confidence in you."
"Kyouya-sempai?"
"Yes?"
"Is this just for fun?"
Kyouya looked at her oddly. "No. It is Club business."
"But no clients are invited?" She smiled. "How does this benefit the Club? Or you, come to think of it?"
Kyouya didn't answer. His pen jotted down another company that had come to mind that could offer a favorable deal on catering.
Haruhi said, "A friend that you think about during school, work, and play. You are very lucky, Kyouya-sempai."
As she walked away, seeing a girl's teacup run dry, Kyouya wrote another company's name. He would need to begin research on them soon.
The new department may have been a poor, in-the-moment decision.
Kyouya decided that Tamaki was an idiot.
The first time he called a meeting for confirming assignments, he simply had to warn Haruhi five minutes in advance.
In that five minutes, the others ended their commissions and herded the girls out through the post-bishounen-haze. Tamaki noticed it, and was about to ask why. He already wore the question in every feature.
In that same five minutes, Haruhi changed into a long, purple-and-white skirt and long-sleeved shirt that fell off of her shoulders. Hikaru and Kaoru had had it prepared for just such a time. They also gave her a demure touch of blush and lipstick, but not eyeliner, since it reportedly irritated her eyes with the contacts in already.
She emerged with a blank look and determination. Tamaki never asked his question.
Kyouya spent a few seconds too long watching Tamaki chase after her like a lonely puppy.
The new department was fulfilling its purpose. As well as could be expected, of course.
Its overall efficiency would remain to be seen.