'Ello 'ello!

Sorry it's been quite a while. I was having WAY too much fun this summer. By the way, I'm gonna be out for a while. I am about to begin a war with . . . Third Year High School.

THIS IS NO LAUGHING MATTER!

It may be irrelevant to you, but I WANNA LIVE LIKE A NORMAL DISCIPLINED PERSON! I WANNA STAY OUT OF DRUGS, VICES AND ALL THAT SHIT AND MAKE MY PARENTS PROUD AND MAKE SURE THEIR OVERWORKED (AND POSSIBLY BROKEN) SPINES DID NOT HAPPEN FOR NOTHING!

Since I'm SO GENEROUSLY BLESSED WITH SUCK, I will stop being an eyesore for the next eight months. By the way, you have license to hunt me down now.

*Audience raises rifles, pitchforks, and megaphones at me*

NOT YET!

Well, enjoy! I worked hard on this! Ok, time to go!

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please, please, please?"

"The answer is still no."

"Come on, Lee! For the last time today, please?"

"For the record, Tamaki, the 'last time' was thirty seconds ago!"

"Please? I can't help myself!"

" . . . "

"I'll lower your debt!"

" . . . Oh, alright. Five hundred thousand?"

"Anything as long as I get to do it!"

"Go knock yourself out."

Tamaki Suoh, the self-proclaimed King of Ouran Academy's Host Club, squealed in delight as a little kid on Christmas Day as he put a forefinger and thumb on each of Lee's cheeks and pinched. Hard.

"So. Ka. Wa. Ii~!" Tamaki's tone grew louder with each syllable. Sparkles and red roses made themselves known to his atmosphere, and blood trickled down from Lee's nose before she shut her eyes.

"I don't know if I should be jealous or disgusted." Hikaru Hitachiin commented from the sidelines.

"No fair, boss! We wanna have a turn!" Whined Kaoru Hitachiin.

"WELL TOO BAD!" Tamaki yelled. "I'VE GOT HER CHEEKS ALL TO MYSELF NOW!" Lee on the other hand wanted her face to tear apart. And so began the cheek-pinching championship, with the twins and Tamaki battling for dominance over Lee's face.

In between facial torture, Lee managed out a "Why the hell do you guys pinch my cheeks every chance you get?" to which Mitsukuni Haninozuka answered,

"You're just that chubby, Lee-chan!" And Takashi Morinozuka muttered a "Yeah" in agreement.

Kyoya Ootori looked up from his black notebook. "Hunny-sempai has a point. From what my research yields, most of the people in Lee's race have round faces."

Lee was about to call Kyoya out for being a racist, when she learned the meaning of that last statement. "So you say . . ." A slight pause. "I'm fat."

And before anyone else could object on that matter, Tamaki had already earned himself a new companion in the Emo Corner. (Lee: "Scooch over a bit Tamaki.")

"Honestly, Kyoya, how much more torture do I have to go through to get the hell out of this rat's hole?" Lee inquired, partially recovering. In the background, Tamaki was impaled by multiple arrows with the words 'Shame', 'Disservice' and 'More shame'. Strange . . .

"Haven't we gone over this yet, Lee?" (Lee: "You did but I was in a coma back then.") Kyoya replied. "Your debt is worth all your services until you reach your third year in Ouran." Cue his signature Shadow King smile served with pure black aura and miniature yen signs on the side.

"But I thought you said I was going to stay in here for the rest of the year."

"It isn't out fault you bled on the best tapestries. And that they were Victorian Era. And that you're quite the wonderful conceptualist."

Lee muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like 'Screw you bastards.'

Meanwhile, the twins had brought in the new costumes for the Hosts (sans Haruhi, she wasn't present) to wear and all Hosts were currently stuffed in the dressing rooms. Lee had settled in quite nicely in the new Emo Corner — the velvet couch — until —

"Lee!" Tamaki chirped. "What do you think?"

You'd think one would be able to get used to being around six gorgeous bishonen and one (I'm sorry, Haruhi!) cross-dressing female who almost looked like a gentleman and who was not here at the moment, especially if you entertained zero perverted thoughts but couldn't control hemorrhage from the nasal passages, but Lee certainly wasn't even close to achieving that yet.

All six of them, together, in loincloths.

. . . You just can't help yourself when you're a pervert, y'know? It's all in the hormones.

And proof of this was the blood Lee had managed to shoot into the air via nose (it reached TEN FEET dammit!).

A much-needed pause. Then, the door to the music room opened, and a mop of mousy brown hair poked itself in through a crack in the doorway. Haruhi Fujioka looked slightly out of breath. "Hey, guys, sorry I'm —" Beat. "You forgot again, did you." And that last one was more of a statement than an inquiry.

Tamaki, however, had already burst into tears as soon as he let the thought of Lee dying by extra sexy high-schoolers sink in to his tiny little (Read: Nonexistent) brain. He was (READ: at a total loss for words . . .) blubbering.

All. Over. The Place.

Just like the world's most emotional broken fountain.

BLUBBERING I SAY!

Kyoya acted like there wasn't even a single perverted female student bleeding to death in the arms of a person who could honestly have more mood swings than the average human female.

Hunny-senpai was eating his cake but looking over at Lee nervously (only once, then managed to return to the mango float Lee made for him) and Mori-senpai was right behind him, alternating glances between Hunny-senpai and Lee.

The twins were trying to mourn Lee in advance, and Tamaki wasn't having any of it.

Did I forget to mention everyone except Lee and Haruhi weren't wearing loincloths?

Yeah . . .

When you're a nosebleeding hormone-crazed pervert from the reaches of a tropical island and probably the first of your race to do it, stuff like this happened.

And nothing, Lee thought, nothing would be more fitting than to be with these people who she called friends.

Even if they unintentionally tried to kill her on a daily basis.