Of Homework & Wedding Rings
An Ouran High School Host Club Story
by oathk33p3r
Prologue: Pastries
"Haruhi!"
The owner of the name winced as the shrieking voice somehow managed to climb a flight of stairs, shoot through the door, pierce through the five layers of blanket, and shout into her ear. While absentmindedly scratching the insect bite on her ankle, she dug her way out of the blankets and blindly felt around the dark for her clock. Rubbing her eyes, she reached over to switch on her bed lamp and held up the ticking, plastic chick up to her nose.
"Ugh" was all she managed to let out when her clock cheerfully told her that it was only four o' clock on a nice Monday morning.
She fell back onto her heap of blankets and let the clock roll out of her hands and tumble off the bed. Just five more minutes…just five.
"Haruhi!"
Oh, no. Why did the voice sound so close?
Haruhi turned over and jumped up when she saw her father, whose face was plastered with heavy makeup, batting his fake eyelashes a few inches away from her.
"Dad, I told you to stop doing that," she mumbled calmly. She stifled a yawn and stretched. "I was going to wake up in a few minutes."
Giggling like a school girl, her father stood up to his full height and put his hands on his waist.
"Guess what day it is today!"
Haruhi threw her legs over the side of her bed and slipped her ice-cold feet into her slippers. She looked at her calendar for a while, and then reached for the sweater piled up by her feet.
"It's February 4th."
Her father frowned and then fell on his knees. He grabbed his daughter's hands and looked up at her. His blue eye shadow sparkled under the lamp, Haruhi noticed.
"Daughter, why must you be so stoic? At least try to show some excitement. I mean, today is the perfect example of excitement, is it not?"
Haruhi blinked.
"I don't really understand…"
"You're going back to school today!"
The girl shrugged and started to make her bed.
"I know that. The school starts at ten o' clock, though."
Her father frowned as he watched his daughter smooth out the wrinkles of her blanket.
He let a sigh escape from his chest and then tried to smile brightly again.
"Well, come downstairs after you clean up. I made you pancakes!" he said enthusiastically.
"That's very creative, Dad. Pancakes for breakfast," Haruhi replied.
The father stopped by the door and looked back at his daughter, who had her back turned to him. He could never tell whether she was being sarcastic or not.
She was different, and he accepted that, but he couldn't help worrying about her social life.
Of course she had friends at this "rich people" school, as she called it. They treated her kindly, invited her wherever they went, and even sent her generous gifts over the holidays.
Haruhi rarely spoke about them, but then again, she spared only so many words a day. When she did, she described them as a "group of loud people with a lot of money." When he finally got to see this group, he was overwhelmed by how gorgeous each and every one of them looked.
He was incredulous that Haruhi hadn't fallen for any of them. Not one.
In fact, Haruhi's heart never beat for anyone her entire life despite the fact that so many would have been willing to rip theirs out for her. She was the densest, most static human he had ever seen. Over the past few years, he had dozens of boys- and girls- crawling to his doorstep and asking for permission to date his daughter. Knowing that Haruhi would simply break their fragile, young hearts the next day, he kindly refused and offered them a cookie on their way back.
So it caught him by surprise when exactly a week and two days ago, a boy had literally waltzed into his kitchen without even knocking on the door.
He asked if he could have his daughter's hand in marriage.
This boy didn't need a cookie.
Author's Notes:
Something I wrote a year ago. I don't know if I'll continue or not. I guess it depends on the feedback.
