This was sitting in my docs for months. I finally dusted off the moth balls and finished it off. Not sure it will be worth it in the end, but we'll see, I suppose. Hope there even is a fandom for this series, still. Enjoy!
Fujioka Haruhi, age 12, opened the door to the apartment she'd lived in since she was born. She managed to turn the deadbolt with her elbow, her arms occupied with the groceries she'd bought earlier. Some might find it odd that a young girl was the one doing the grocery shopping, but Haruhi had been doing it since she was six. When her mother died, she had stepped up to take over all the household chores and duties. Since her father had to work enough to support them all by himself, she saw it as the least she could do to lessen the burden of supporting the family that fell on his shoulders.
She slipped out of her shoes and walked over to the kitchen to drop the bags. She put things away calmly and efficiently. That done and all the prep work for dinner already done before she left for school that morning, she started on her homework. Haruhi didn't think she was more or less intelligent than the average student. She attributed her straight A's to a strong work ethic and study schedule, nothing more. By the time she'd finished all her assignments and double-checked them to be sure, the sun was going down.
Standing up to stretch after sitting down so long, she heard the door open.
"Welcome home, Dad," she called out.
"Haruhi! I have some exciting news!" shouted her father, exuberant as always.
She smiled fondly as he slipped out of his high heels. She had no problem with the fact her father dressed like a woman and flirted with other men for a living. He enjoyed doing it and it payed the bills. That's all that mattered to her. Thankfully, the neighbors were pretty open-minded, so she hadn't endured much teasing for it growing up. Even when she had, she'd weathered it with the knowledge that only her feelings and her dad's were the ones that mattered. If other people had a problem with it, that was their problem, not hers.
"Haruhi, Haruhi! I entered the lottery! I bought a ticket on my way home from work! It's the Jumbo Draw! It's super big this year! The first prize total payout is 12 billion yen! We're going to be rich!"
She narrowed her eyes. "Dad, you know I don't like it when you buy lottery tickets."
"Oh, Haruhi, I wish you'd stop worrying so much about money! It was pocket change, really. And even if we don't win first prize there're still millions of other prizes. It's all good fun, all good fun!"
She sighed. "Whatever, Dad,"
"Wah! You're upset! I'm sorry, Haruhi! Daddy's sorry! Please forgive me, precious daughter!"
Haruhi spat out some of her dad's long red hair that had gotten in her mouth. She always wondered how she could be so level-headed when her Dad was swept like a leaf in the storm of his own emotions. And from what she remembered, her Mom had been pretty high-energy too. Sometimes she thought that she'd been forced to grow up too soon and wasn't allowed to be so emotional and childish. But maybe it was like what they were learning in Math class, about how a negative multiplied by a negative made a positive. No, that wasn't right. If anything, she was the negative and both her parents were positives. Hmm, maybe it was more like magnets. Like repelling like. Both of her parents had submitted raucous natures when making her, and they had driven each other away leaving her with nothing.
She felt her shoulder get wet and realized her Dad had worked himself to tears. With an affectionate eye-roll, she reached up to give him a comforting hug. "It's okay, Dad. I'm not mad. I hope you win."
Ryouji, aka 'Ranka', stopped his blubbering and looked into his daughter's smiling face like it was the sun. Then he threw his arms in the air. "Yes! Thank you, Haruhi! Now that you approve, I'm definitely going to win! You're Daddy's number-one good luck charm!"
Sometimes, Haruhi swore there was a sign following behind her father declaring him as a 'super-doting parent' to the world. There might as well have been, he was so obvious about the fact his world revolved around her.
"I'm going to make dinner. You watch TV or something, relax from your day."
"Sure thing, Haruhi! In fact, I think the drawing's on soon. I need to tune in and see how much money we're going to get."
Haruhi retreated to the kitchen, the television acting as background noise as she went through the familiar motions. When she was done, she set the table and called out "Dad! Dinner's ready!"
There was no response.
Turning, Haruhi saw her dad was sitting stock-still in front of their tiny TV set. He was holding up his ticket, his hands shaking the faintest bit.
She put her hand on his shoulder. "Dad? Are you okay?"
As if coming from a trance, he jerked up to look at her. His mascara was still smudgy from his earlier freak out, but now it was running down his cheeks like waterfalls. "We… We won."
Haruhi blinked. "Dad?"
"We won, Haruhi. First prize. See for yourself."
Haruhi looked between the ticket clutched in her dad's fingers and the colorful numbers emblazoned along the bottom of the screen. It was an exact match.
Haruhi's eyes widened. "That means…"
"WE'RE RICH! WE'RE RICH, HARUHI! OVER TWELVE BILLION YEN! WE'VE MADE IT BIG! OH, LIFE IS GOING TO CHANGE FOR US! WE'LL MOVE OUT OF THIS RINKY-DINK APARTMENT AND LIVE IN A BIG MANSION AND HAVE LOTS OF MAIDS AND SERVANTS AND WE'LL HAVE ALL THE PRETTY DRESSES WE CAN WANT AND –"
"Dad!"
Ryouji paused in his rant. His daughter was looking at him with a hard look. "What is it, Haruhi? Aren't you happy?"
"I'm glad you won and we're going to get so much money, but I need you to calm down. There's no need to go crazy and suddenly start doing everything the expensive way. If we do, it'll all be gone before you know it. We need to think about we're going to use it calmly and rationally."
Ryouji wilted. He felt guilty that it was his daughter that had to talk him out of his crazy schemes. That was supposed to be his job. "Okay, Haruhi. What do you want to do?"
"Right now, I want to eat dinner. When we're done, we'll double-check that ticket is legit and how to collect the prize money. Then we'll figure how to responsibly use it, just like we do every week when we make our budget. Does that sound ok?"
The father nodded obediently to his daughter.
They ate, and the act of chewing seemed to calm Ryouji down just a little bit. When they were done, Haruhi took the ticket and read the fine print on the back. Then she pulled out a pen and paper and started doing some calculations.
"Our rent is 93 thousand a month, or 1 million 12 thousand for a year. We spend 26 thousand a week for food for the two of us. Multiply that by 52, that's 1 million 352 thousand a year. Utilities are 21 thousand a month, or 252 thousand a year. Add in household supplies, eating out, other little things… it costs just a little less than 3 million to live exactly the way we are now. Then add all the taxes (yes, she did those too), it takes 3 million 600 thousand. We have one of 23 prizes totaling 12 billion 400 million, which makes our cut… 539 million. If we change absolutely nothing about our lifestyle, Dad wouldn't have to work again for… 150 years."
Haruhi looked up from her work. Her face was positively angelic in its joy. "Isn't that great, Dad? We could live three times better and you still wouldn't have to work for the rest of your life if you don't want to! And if you're still alive when it runs out, I'll have my own job and can pay for you myself!"
Her father was crying. And it wasn't the melodramatic tears he was prone to. These were heartfelt tears that could only be evoked when your very soul was touched. "Haruhi… you're thinking about me? All this money… and you're just worried about me having to work? Don't you want to live a better life now that you have the chance?"
Haruhi frowned. "I know you like working at the bar. But it's hard on you. You have to take so many shifts to support us. If we start to spend lots of money on a big lifestyle, Dad will have to work harder than ever to keep it going. I'm fine with the way things are now. If we keep them that way, you only have to work as much as you want. Doesn't that make you happy, Dad?"
Ryouji reached out and pulled his daughter gently into his embrace. He rested his head on hers and tried his utmost best to surround her with warmth and love. "You are a selfless, caring, beautiful girl, my precious Haruhi. Don't ever change."
Haruhi just hugged him back.
The next day, Ryouji went down to the bank. With just a few signatures, over half a billion tax-free yen were dropped into his checking account. A full half was moved to a savings account to slowly accumulate interest, in case Ryouji ever got sick or Haruhi wanted to go to University overseas. With the rest, the Fujioka family made astonishingly few changes to their lifestyle. Ryouji cut back his shifts to twice a week, and only when Haruhi was in school so he'd always be home by the time she was. Every Sunday, they would have dinner at a fancy restaurant. Not the kind of place with a five-month waiting list and a dress code, just the kind of place that would have been a real treat 'pre-lottery'. 'Ranka' got a bunch of new dresses, the TV got bigger, and all the dishware and furniture finally matched.
Otherwise, things stayed exactly the same. They still paid rent on their same old apartment. Haruhi confessed to her dad that she didn't want to move away from where her mother had lived. She didn't care how 'below their means' it now was, it was the place where all her best memories were. It was home. Ryouji gave Haruhi a very generous weekly allowance. Feeling like a kid playing Monopoly, she'd started investing in the stock market over the internet. She turned out to have an uncanny knack for stocks. Ryouji, noticing this and always wanting to give his daughter whatever she wanted, turned over almost all of their funds to her disposable except for a 'baseline'. Haruhi had been both touched and intimidated by the power her father had given her, but she'd rolled up her sleeves and gone to work pouring money into her hunches and 'good feelings'. It paid off. Within a year, they'd doubled their winnings, savings included. Haruhi was sure whoever ran the sites she used would be amazed that one of their most successful users was a 13-year-old girl.
They started to treat themselves just a bit more, but always staying 'reasonable' as Haruhi insisted. Haruhi started to relax just the tiniest bit, allowing herself to become just a bit more dependent on her Dad, a bit less determined to handle all of life's challenges on her own. With all the extra time together, they became closer than ever. When Haruhi came home with a black eye after one of the kids at school demanded money from her, Ryouji was ready to eat the boy's entrails in front of his family. Haruhi managed to talk him down; he was just rude and greedy, hardly capital offenses. Still, her dad signed her up for aikido lessons within the week. She wasn't a prodigy by any means, but she was diligent and hard-working. She earned her black belt by the time she was fifteen.
One day, they were out together shopping and 'Ranka' was trying to talk Haruhi into a sundress. "Please, please, please, Haruhi! You'd look so cute and feminine in it!"
"I don't really want to look feminine," Haruhi said placidly.
Ranka huffed. Why was his daughter so un-girly? "If that's the case, why don't we cut your hair and you can start wearing ties and t-shirts like the rest of the boys?"
"I don't really want to look like a boy, either," Haruhi replied.
Ranka almost pulled out his (expensively maintained, it was a bit of a pet peeve for Haruhi) hair. "What do you want to look like, Haruhi? What's your style?"
Haruhi paused in her browsing. "How to explain it… Dad, you like dressing up like a woman, right?"
"What are you, new? Of course," Ranka preened. He'd gotten laser hair removal for his beard, so he didn't even have to worry about shaving anymore. Well, at least on his face.
"But if you had the chance, you wouldn't get the operation to actually become a woman, would you?"
Ranka paled at the idea of voluntary castration. "No. No I wouldn't."
"So, you still want to be a man. But you want to be a woman too. You want to be 'both'. Right?"
"I guess that's one way of putting it," Ranka mused.
"Well, I want to be 'neither'. I don't want someone to look at me and immediately classify me as 'boy' or 'girl' and base all their actions towards me around that. I want to keep them guessing so that, when they interact with me, they just take me as 'Haruhi'… Does that make sense?"
Ranka grinned slowly as he realized a part of his daughter's character he'd never understood before. "Of course it does, my sweet, ambivalent child. Well, come on! Now that I know what to look for, you're going to look the best you have in your life!"
Her dad made cultivating her androgynous image a second job. He called all his friends who leant more towards the 'pretty boy' look for advice, read articles and books, and coached Haruhi on what he found. He wound up taking it more seriously than she ever had, but she appreciated his enthusiasm. Her hair was cut from its waist-length back to her shoulders, and put in a slightly boyish style. Her face was naturally one that could go either way, but Ranka coached her on how to make it go all the way in either direction, and experimented to find a style that straddled the line. Her clothes became the standard male fare of shirts and pants, but cut and accessorized in such a way it made you take a second look. Once, as a joke, she wore the boys' uniform to her middle school and everyone thought 'he' was Haruhi's cousin or brother until attendance was called. She actually got called to the principal's office for that, but after her dad bailed her they had a good laugh.
Thus, it was a very different Fujioka Haruhi that was accepted to Ouran Academy on a scholarship.
KISSKISSFALLINLOVE
"There are four libraries on this campus, why is every one of them so noisy?" muttered Haruhi. "If you don't feel like studying, just go home!" 'Do these rich kids only come to school for the fun of it?'
Her first day had been… enlightening. And not in the ways she'd expected. Every class had involved going over the general plan for the year and how each individual teacher handled their particular assignments and consulting hours. So there hadn't been much in the way of academic education. But her fellow students had provided a very in-depth social education over the past six hours, that was for sure. Sure, the Opening Ceremony the day before had given her a sense for just how grandiose the place was, but today was the first full taste.
She'd thought a kid in her class back in middle school was spoiled because he bragged about never having to do chores and getting every video game he asked for. Compared to these rich kids, that guy was a prisoner-slave in Siberia. She'd heard one of the girls explaining she was almost late because two of her maids were too slow getting her dressed. As in, they did it for her. One of the boys in her homeroom was complaining how he had to get a new car since a bird pooped on his old one. On her way between classes, she'd overheard people casually making plans to go shopping in Paris over the weekend and extending offers to stay at their second house in Canada.
It wasn't just that these kids could afford to do more than Haruhi even if she wanted to be frivolous. They'd been raised that way. They'd never once, their entire lives, had to worry about the basic needs for survival not being met. Hell, most of them never worried about their slightest whim not being met. They simply saw the world a different way than she did.
Haruhi herself had been the source of some scrutiny. Apparently, she was a hot topic of gossip. The 'audacious commoner' that had broken through the glass ceiling separating Ouran Academy from the rest of the world. The fact that no one there had ever heard the name Fujioka had them all assuming she was just a run-of-the-mill poor person (and their definition of 'poor' was skewed at best) that managed to claw their way in with good test scores. The super-rich ran in very exclusive circles, apparently. She would have corrected the assumption to anyone who'd asked her, but no one did. In fact, no one had approached her all day. They all just stared at her and muttered, parting in her path as if they were afraid to touch her and catch some kind of 'commoner' disease.
It wasn't exactly disheartening, but Haruhi was suddenly making many more plans to keep in touch with middle school friends than she'd been before that day.
Some of the looks had been admiring instead of curious or guarded, but Haruhi didn't pay them any more mind than the rest. She'd had students at her old school declaring romantic feelings so often you could almost set your calendar by it. But she'd dismissed it all. None of them had been true confessions. They'd all been complete strangers or people she'd only ever exchanged polite conversation with. How could they love her if they didn't really know her? They'd only been infatuated with her looks or her wealth, and she wasn't going to waste her time on people only interested in those parts of her life.
It was currently 2:30 in the afternoon. Classes had let out at 2:00, and club activities wouldn't start up until 3:00. Haruhi had been looking for a quiet place to study before catching the train home. But she'd discovered her first pick, the libraries, had not lived up to their reputation as places of silence. They'd all been filled with milling students chatting at normal volume, leaving them loud as the cafeteria at her old school during lunchtime. She was now wandering around the top floor of the south building, hoping to find some suitable cranny to cram some studying in before her train arrived.
A flock of birds flew past one of the ceiling-high windows. That was another eye-opener for Haruhi, the very architecture of Ouran. They had a clock tower modeled after Big Ben in London, and she was willing to bet it was built to scale. Every building's façade was made of pink marble, every window was arching, and she would have bet money her desk had been made from mahogany. Sparing no expense was one thing, the best school should have the best of everything, but this was something else altogether. It was as if the builders had spent money for the sake of it. They hadn't gone so far as to make every toilet out of 24-karat gold, but it was a close thing. More had been spent building this one hallway than her apartment complex's block, she was sure.
Haruhi glanced at the birds, following their path to the sky. 'Mother, in Heaven, I hope you are well. I can't believe it's been ten years already.' The one luxury of her father's she never protested was ensuring there were fresh flowers placed at her mother's memorial every day. Haruhi sometimes wondered how her mother would have handled winning the lottery. She probably would have kept her job, just done a lot more pro bono work. And maybe insisted on more exotic vacations. Haruhi had only left the country once, to celebrate getting into Ouran with a visit to Hawaii. She'd liked the vibrant surroundings and the chance to whale watch, but her father had resolutely refused to let her try surfing when he'd seen how high the waves got.
Shaking her head out of her musing, Haruhi found herself in front of a closed door. She glanced up to see the sign designating it as 'Music Room #3'. 'I guess this would be a good place to study…'
As she opened the door, there was a blinding light. That's what happened when you put giant windows on the west wall and then use reflective material for flooring. She caught the heavy scent of roses, almost as if the petals were caressing her cheek. A chorus of "Welcome" tickled her ears.
When she got her sight back, she was faced with six of the most gorgeous boys she'd ever seen.
Any one of these young men would have been enough to pique even Haruhi and her personality-centered interest. Taken together, they made her heart race. There was a blonde sitting in a chair, his legs folded and hands laced atop, with the face of an angel. His eyes were the most curious shade of blue, almost purple, and positively shone with life and vitality. She got the instant impression he was a second away from leaping from that chair and starting to dance, so full of energy was he.
There was a brunette standing behind the seated blonde's right shoulder with crossed arms, like an advisor behind his king. His hair was black as ink and just as shiny; his eyes more like coal, hard as stone and glinting behind the frames of his glasses. He had cold, aristocratic features, his mouth set in a noncommittal line that could have been a slight grin or a slight frown depending on the angle. Haruhi was almost reminded of a vampire.
On the first boy's other side stood identical twins, mirror images of each other down to the differing parts in their flaming red hair. Not the same red as her dad's, more like a candle's glow than blood. Their amber eyes glittered with mischief, an effect only amplified by their matching smirks and the hands tucked in their pockets. There was an almost ethereal quality to them, as if they weren't fully in the same world that she was. It made her think of the elves she'd heard of in storybooks, playing tricks on humans and disappearing into the forest.
If the first blonde was an angel, the second one to his right was a cherub. He was short, shorter than Haruhi even, and stood with his arms held behind his back. His smile was open and pure, like a child in the middle of laughing. His brown eyes made her think of caramels and chocolates; sugary, decadent things almost as sweet as his sheer cuteness. If pink flowers started to float around his head, she wouldn't have been surprised. He was the very personification of the word 'kawaii'. Or perhaps 'moe'.
The final boy, standing behind the one with glasses with back turned, was the giant to the second blonde's dwarf. His own dark hair had almost blue undertones to it. He was the tannest of them, as if he spent a lot of time working in the sun. His impressive musculature, barely concealed by his uniform, did nothing to hurt that idea. His face was clean-cut and clear of any emotion, his grey eyes distant. Still, she had the thought he could look quite frightening if he tried, as if his face was just waiting to shift into the lines of a bloodthirsty warrior.
All of this was gleaned in the five seconds it took before Haruhi blinked. Then she threw herself back, accidentally closing the door behind her. 'What the hell?! What's this beautiful group doing in an abandoned music room?!'
"Oh, it's a boy," said the twins, in sync down to the last syllable.
The immediate pegging went against the whole point of Haruhi's image, but she could forgive them. Given the downright conservative girl's uniform, the fact she was showing her ankles was enough to have them assume she wasn't one. Ranka had outright gagged when he'd seen the brochure and what Haruhi was expected to wear. He and Haruhi had gone through the Student Handbook with a fine-toothed comb to try and find a way out of wearing the dandelion monstrosity. Surprisingly, other than the standard rules against offensive messages and obscene displays of skin, there was no rule explicitly stating a student had to wear the uniform. There was, however, a rule against having a part-time job, chewing gum, and bringing a servant to class. It was another example of how fundamentally different the thinking was between the classes.
Haruhi had decided her go-to school clothes would be jeans and a collared shirt. Since it was still April, she'd thrown a sweater on as well. To add a bit of femininity to the mix, she'd tied her collar with a ribbon like the girl's uniform instead of a tie. She'd thrown on some loafers and proclaimed herself decent. Given one or two of the appreciative looks she'd gotten had been aimed at her body instead of her face, she liked to think it looked good. That, or rich teenagers were still teenagers.
The one with glasses turned to look at the twins. "Hikaru, Kaoru, this visitor is in the same class as you, right?"
She suddenly remembered she'd seen them before; they sat on either side of her in homeroom. Their last name had been vaguely familiar, too. They both shrugged and held up their hands in an 'eh' gesture, still in concert as if they'd rehearsed it. "Yes he is, but he isn't very sociable so we don't know much about him."
Well, she was hardly going to approach people who were staring at her like she was an animal at the zoo.
The corner of Glasses' mouth quirked up as he made a small sound of understanding. "It's impolite to say it like that." He looked up at her, and Haruhi felt like his gaze was pinning her in place, like a thumbtack holding up a page. "Welcome to the Ouran Host Club, Special Scholarship Student."
"What?!" the first blonde exclaimed, as if the brunette had announced she was the Queen of Sheba. "You mean the exceptionally rare scholarship student we've heard about, Fujioka Haruhi, is you?"
The second she'd heard the words 'Host Club', Haruhi had started blindly fumbling for the door. Ah, that explained it. Well, not really, but she knew all about host clubs. Her dad had other friends in the red light district than just the people at his Okama bar. She had no desire to be buttered up with false compliments and flattery. Even if it came from the mouths of these hunks. But when the blonde called her out, her movements halted as all her energy went into keeping her exasperation off her face.
"Does everyone in this whole school know about me?" she asked rhetorically.
The slightly creepy boy answered. "It's not every day a commoner gets into our school."
Her brow twitched. "I'm upper-middle class, it's not like I came from a homeless shelter." In fact, in terms of total assets, she was probably only a zero or two off from these snobs. But as she'd learned, these kids seemed to think their way of life was the 'norm' and everyone else was terribly deprived.
Out of nowhere, the first blonde was at her side and laying his hand on her shoulder. "What he means to say is you're a hero, Fujioka-kun!"
Haruhi blinked as the air around her seemed to fill with sparkles and the scent of roses spiked. What, did this guy bathe in rose water or something? Oh hell, he actually might. "Even if you are the top student, you are also the poorest person in this school!"
Yeah, like that was saying much. Haruhi shrugged to the side to try and dislodge the boy, but he followed her. "People will call you a weed, and you will be despised as a lower person! Yes, you probably will be! But never mind that! Long live the poor, I say!" He held out his hands to her, as if offering her an embrace. "Welcome to our luxuriant world of beauty, poor man!"
Haruhi couldn't decide if this guy was being condescending or sincere. He might even be both. "Please don't patronize me," she said firmly. The boy's generous smile faltered a little. "You think you're better than me because of what's in your bank account? Money can't buy you character, or decency, or respect. For the record, I could afford the tuition here if I wanted to. But with the scholarship it was free so long as I was best in the class. I was going to strive for that anyway, so it just made sense not to waste the money." Haruhi could feel herself working up into a real rant, so she cut herself off before she did something unforgivably rude. "Please excuse me, I'll find somewhere else to study." She turned to leave.
Her progress was halted by a strong tug from a much lower center of gravity than she was accustomed to. "Ne, don't leave Haru-chan! I've never met a hero before! Are you really a hero, Haru-chan?"
It was the little cherub. He was tugging on her arm and looking up at her like a little kid actually meeting a hero. It was absolutely adorable, so much so that it took Haruhi a second to gather her thoughts to respond. Then something snapped when she realized just how familiar he was being. It was like he was talking to her as if she was the little kid. "WHO GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO CALL ME HARU-CHAN!" she roared.
The kid ran with a cry to the tall one, who wordlessly offered the boy a stuffed pink bunny of all things. Haruhi tried to catch her breath from her loss of control, and the first blonde took the opportunity to speak. "Please don't leave. The moment you entered, you became our customer. And it's our duty as hosts to fulfill your needs, even if you're a boy. A very pretty boy, if I may say!"
She turned to face him uncomprehendingly. What was his malfunction? Did he not realize she'd walked in by accident? What, was this Host Club so infamous that their location should be common knowledge even to the 'commoner' on her first day? He charged on heedless of her eyes questioning his intelligence. "So what's your preference? Wild type? Boy-Lolita type? Little Devil type? Cool type?" Well, those labels fit her own take on the other boys.
Then the blonde got way too close, so close their noses almost touched, and he actually touched her cheek! "Or maybe you'd like to try me?" he whispered seductively.
Right. That did it. She officially had enough.
She reached up and grabbed his arm, pulling it out straight. Turning, she brought his arm over her shoulder, bringing up her other hand to grab for extra leverage. Then, using her body as a fulcrum, she flipped the touchy-feely bastard through the air.
He went a fair distance given the disparity in their sizes. He hit the ground and rolled a tiny bit. He bumped up against a stand. He looked up at her like he couldn't believe the last five seconds had just happened.
"Don't touch people without permission, you perv!" she snarled. So much time with her dad had made his concern for her virtue rub off just a little. She was determined that no boy (or girl) would get close unless she wanted them to.
At that moment, the vase atop the stand tilted over. Haruhi watched in horror as the ornate piece of pottery hit the floor and shattered into smithereens.
The twins, Hikaru and Kaoru hissed. "The Renaissance vase we were going to feature in the school auction! Boss broke it!" one huffed.
"No, the commoner broke it," the other corrected. He turned to look at her pityingly. "Now you've done it, the starting bid on that was going to be 8 million yen."
Haruhi winced. Sure, she made that much in a good week through one trade or another. But part of her would never forget that her family once lived on less than half that much a year. "I'm sorry. I'll pay you back."
The two eyed her skeptically. "Can you? You can't even afford the designated uniform," they noted.
Her face hardened. "I choose not to wear the uniform."
"Sure," one of them drawled doubtfully.
The other tilted his head. "Wait… is that cashmere?"
Haruhi rubbed a finger on her sweater. It was more than she usually spent, but it had just been so soft. "Yes."
The first one's eyes widened. "Never mind," he backtracked.
The one with glasses stepped forward. "Do you really have the money to pay for this?"
She met his gaze unflinchingly. "Yes. How do you want it? A check? Wire transfer? If you want it in cash, it might take a couple of days."
He regarded her for a moment. The he opened a notebook he pulled from… somewhere, wrote down something, then tore out the page to give to her. "My account number," he explained.
She took it and reached into her pocket for her phone. She turned it on, having shut if off for fear her dad would constantly bombard her with texts during the day. The buzz of vibration as the device activated confirmed that fear. She glanced and saw that she had no less than 17 texts from her dad, plus two voice mails. Hmm, he'd restrained himself. She opened her contacts, and selected the number for their family accountant.
"Hello?" asked a heavily accented voice.
"Herr Schmidt? It's Fujioka Haruhi."
Schmidt was the accountant assigned to them once the bank deemed their holdings big enough to merit individual attention. Her dad had picked him from those offered because he'd introduced himself with 'atashi' and assumed he was gay. Turns out, he'd followed his Japanese girlfriend here from Germany and had learned by listening to her speak. He didn't realize the faux pas, and his girlfriend and his friends found it too funny to point out the error.
"Ah, Fraulein Fujioka! What can I do for you today?"
Haruhi had made it a point of learning German so that she could talk to Schmidt in his native tongue. He was more comfortable that way, and as the guy in charge of moving their money around, Haruhi found it only polite. She was doubly glad for it now, as it offered her a bit of privacy from the piercing stares of the Host Club. Though from the way the 'cool' guy's eyes glinted, she had the feeling he understood every word.
"I need you to transfer 8 million yen into a numbered account."
"That's a fair sum, Fraulein. May I ask why?"
She grimaced. "It's a case of 'you break it, you buy it', I'm afraid."
"Oh, I see. Sorry about that. Okay, what's the account?"
Haruhi carefully relayed it. She heard the click of keyboard keys over the phone.
"Okay, it's done. Have a nice day, Fujioka-san," he said a little haltingly, though he was getting better every day.
"Auf Wiederhören," she offered in return. She hung up and turned to face the man she'd just made 8 million richer. "Are we good here?"
He pulled out his own phone (the latest model, of course) and checked a few things. "Yes, we are. Pleasure doing business with you, Fujioka-san."
"I wish I could say the same," she responded dryly. "Sorry for troubling you. Goodbye."
With that, she turned and finally managed to leave the room. The blonde she'd flipped was still laying on the floor, gobsmacked.
KISSKISSFALLINLOVE
The next day was better in some ways, but worse in others. It was better since the classes started in earnest, and Haruhi was glad for the thrill of learning and the chance to prove herself worthy to be there. The whole reason she came here was because it was the Ivy League of high schools. A 4.0 from here would get her into any college in the world.
It was better because less people stared. In fact, some even went up to talk to her. Barely. They made comments on the weather, primarily. Still, it was better than her pariah status of the previous day.
It was better because she forgot to pack a bento and her dad managed to talk her into just paying for food at the refectory before she left that morning. She'd never been so happy for her family's change of fortune. The food was divine. The prices were enough to make her gulp, but it would be nice as a treat every now and then.
It was worse because the homework lived up to the hype. Haruhi got more assigned that one day than she would have in a week back in middle school. She was already stressing about how she was going to budget her time to get everything done and still have time to eat and sleep.
It was worse because she'd thrown out her contacts last night after their thirty days of use, only to discover she'd forgotten to order new ones. So she was forced to wear her glasses to school today. They weren't her grandfather's old ones, thank god, but a pair she kept in back-up for just these kinds of situations. However, apparently her eyes had gotten worse since she'd bought them, since the prescription was a bit off and she found her coordination shot with the skewed depth perception. Plus, after the clarity of lenses, that little circle of blurriness at the edge of her vision practically mocked her.
And it was worse because she was constantly hounded by the Hitachiin twins.
They'd plopped down next to her at the start of the day and started chattering her ear off. They were very impressed with how she'd stood up to 'Tono/King/Boss' Suou Tamaki the day before. Well, they were more entertained by the fact he'd been thrown on his ass than her strength of character. Haruhi tried to be polite, but she mostly ignored them. She'd quickly perceived that they weren't really interested in her as a person. It was as if they'd already worked their wiles on everyone in the school and were eager for fresh meat. She was the shiny new toy, nothing more. And so she gave them little more than the time of day.
She managed to remember why their last name ran a bell. Hitachiin was a famous designer line. Ranka had saved his clothes' budget for three months just to get one Hitachiin original as a birthday gift to himself. When Haruhi had gotten him another last Christmas, he'd burst into tears and declared he would get her a pony in return, an idea she had quickly talked him out of.
The twins were nothing if not persistent. They kept at her for the whole day whenever they weren't in class, trying to get her engaged in their little games. When one of them (Hikaru, the one with his hair parted to the right) tried to lean on her shoulder, she'd grabbed his fingers in a warning grip. That headed off any more physical contact, at least. Something she was grateful for, as they seemed to have no concept of personal space. When girls had walked up to them over the day, they'd gotten extremely close, actually rubbing cheeks and usually sending the girl into a dead feint. And if that didn't manage it, their 'brotherly love' act did it.
That actually bothered her the most. Not the idea of incest, per se (on that gray area, like many others, she concluded it was the business of those involved alone so long as it was consensual and sane). What bothered her was how they used it as a tool. They played it up, used the suggestion of the ultimate taboo in order to manipulate the people around them. There were some lines that shouldn't be crossed in the name of a joke. What bothered her even more was that it actually worked. The girls ate it up like fat-free chocolate. Was this some particular psychosis of being raised to think you were a princess? Or some kind of 'girl' thing that eluded her understanding since she thought so differently from an ordinary girl?
The bell for the end of the day rang, and still there was no reprieve.
"Come on, Haruhi, come to Host Club with us!" whined Kaoru.
"I said no," she stated wearily.
"What's wrong? Don't you want to spend more time with us?" teased Hikaru.
"Not particularly," she said bluntly.
"Please? Pretty please? At least come to settle things with Tono. You didn't really end things on a good note."
"If he wants to settle things, he can come to me himself."
"Kyouya-senpai wanted to discuss something about the vase."
"I already paid for it. If he wants to haggle more money out of it, again, he can find me himself."
"You made Honey-senpai cry! Don't you want to apologize?"
That made her pause. She felt the teensiest bit guilty about making such an adorable boy so upset (though if the twins were to be believed, he was actually the oldest in the club). And apparently he was informal with everyone.
The twins spotted her moment of weakness and seized on it. "He cried and cried. He's bound to still be upset."
"What kind of person are you, reducing people to tears and not even thinking of apologizing?"
These twins could make a nun swear.
She gritted her teeth. If it would make them shut up and ease her conscious, she might as well do it. "Fine."
She tactfully ignored how the boys applauded themselves for a job well done.
So it was that Haruhi found herself back in the north corridor of the top floor of the South building.
She hesitated to touch the doorknob, half-expecting it to burn her from the heat of the hot-blooded fangirls so often beyond it. But the decision was taken from her as the twins opened the doors and ushered her so smoothly her feet barely touched the ground. "BOSS! WE BROUGHT THE COMMONER!"
Tamaki, self-proclaimed king of the Host Club, looked up from lounging on the couch. In the blink of an eye, he was huddled behind it, peeking out like a kid checking if the monster was there. Haruhi felt her opinion of him, already low, sink to abyssal depths. So much for the 'men are brave and girls are cowards' stereotype.
Ootori Kyouya looked up from his laptop. His glasses flashed as he turned to face Haruhi. "Ah, Fujioka-san. What brings you here today? I'd apologize if the twins brought you here against your will, but then again I can't really claim any responsibility for their actions, can I?"
Well, wasn't that a hollow gesture. "I came to apologize to Haninozuka-senpai. Is he here?"
"I'm afraid not. Mori-senpai has a kendo meeting this afternoon. Honey-senpai tends to wait until he's finished before they come together. If you're willing to wait, they should be here by the time the club opens at 3:00."
Haruhi held back a grimace. Like hell she was going to spend an extra 45 minutes in the hands of those diabolical twins. "No, thanks. I'll try again tomorrow. Have a good day," she wished out of habit rather than any real sentiment.
"Wait right there!" demanded Tamaki, apparently finding his courage. "I demand that you apologize to me for your assault against my person yesterday."
Haruhi raised an unimpressed brow. "I'll apologize for the excessive force when you apologize for the sexual harassment that prompted it."
The blond gaped at her. "S-s-sexual harassment? I did no such thing!"
"Right. You actually touched me without my consent. That's assault."
"ARE YOU CRAZY? There's no way I'm apologizing for some harmless flirting!"
Haruhi shrugged. "Then I'm not apologizing. Good day, Suou-senpai." She turned to leave, only to find Tamaki had sprinted past her to barricade the doors.
"Until I hear the words 'I apologize' come out of your mouth, you are forbidden from leaving this room! On my authority as King of the Ouran Host Club!"
Haruhi turned to look at Kyouya, who seemed to have the most sense of anyone in the room. "Is he serious?"
"I'm afraid so. Best to just play along, in my experience," the raven-haired boy answered, not pausing in writing in some folder.
"Well, in that case." Haruhi reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. "Dad? Yes, I'm fine. Just needed to let you know I'll be staying late after school. Apparently, I'm being held hostage by the school's Host Club. Love you, bye." Haruhi hit the 'call end' button just as the first syllable of her father's rant hit her ear. "There. I should be out of here in an hour."
Tamaki looked at her with terror in his eyes. "You called your parents? What are you, five? My dad's principal of the school, I'll have you know!"
"And I'm sure he'd be as disappointed as my father will be that you're keeping a fellow student prisoner over your wounded ego. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to study in the corner. If you feel like apologizing before I leave, you'll know where to find me." With that, Haruhi turned and tracked down an out-of-the-way chair. Sitting down in it, she pulled out her homework and began working in her lap, ignoring the others in the room.
The Host Club opened for business. Haruhi paid no mind to the flocks of girls that fawned over the hosts and were fawned over in turn for 15-minute increments. Compared to professional operations she'd seen when visiting her Dad at work, it actually was a pretty decent set-up. Not that Haruhi would admit to that. The last thing that 'King' character needed was more praise.
One girl, the hideous yellow uniform dress not detracting from her beauty in the slightest, walked up to Haruhi in the corner. "Ano, Fujioka-san? Are you joining the Host Club?"
Haruhi paused in her work. "No, nothing like that. It's a bit of a funny story, actually, but I don't need to bother you with it. You'd probably prefer spending time with one of the hosts than talking to boring old me."
The girl blushed. "I don't think you're boring. You wear such nice clothes, even though everyone is expected to wear the uniform. I think it's… cool that you're so independent. And you're a scholarship student! You must be really smart!"
Haruhi blushed and rubbed the back of her head, a pencil tucked behind her ear. She had no idea how pretty she looked in that moment. "That's very kind of you to say, princess. But really, I'm not that smart. Anyone could do what I've done if they worked hard enough. I appreciate the compliment, though." Haruhi gave a genuine smile, glad to see that at least one of these rich people had a modicum of decency.
The girl held a hand up to her mouth and turned very red. Was she sick? "F-Fujioka-san..."
"You can call me Haruhi, if you like." Haruhi suddenly became aware of her seated position. "Oh, where are my manners? You shouldn't have to stand. I'll go find you a chair." Haruhi got up and found an elaborate sitting chair that was currently unoccupied. Ignoring how some people turned to watch, Haruhi lifted the chair and set it down back by her own lonely perch. "Please, sit down, if you really want to talk. I won't be offended if you don't, though.'
"No, no, it's fine!" the girl said breathily, sitting down into the chair as Haruhi slid it in underneath her. "I'm Fubuki Ayano, by the way."
"Nice to meet you, Fubuki-san."
"Y-you can call me Ayano."
Haruhi decided not to mention her stutter. That would just be rude. "Okay, Ayano. Do you mind if I do some homework while we talk? I don't mean to offend, it's just that I really need to finish this essay for Professor Hakate."
"No, no, that's okay." Ayano fiddled with the lap of her dress nervously. "Do you enjoy school work?"
They wound up having a very pleasant conversation about the various topics the school offered. Ayano confessed that she had several tutors to help her at home. It seemed to boggle her mind that Haruhi had the discipline to do all the work and do it well all by herself. Over time, a couple of Ayano's friends walked over. Haruhi, having been raised with manners, went to fetch them chairs as well, and while she was at it got a small table. If any of the hosts had a problem with it, they didn't approach her on it.
"Do you mind if I get a drink?" Haruhi asked ten minutes later.
"Oh no, go ahead. You should get one, you've been talking to us for half an hour!" Ayano said.
"You deserve a treat for doing your homework so diligently!" said Kimi, who sat to Ayano's right.
"I can go get it for you!" offered Togama, to Ayano's left. She had curiously bright eyes. Did she wear contacts like Haruhi usually did?
"That's okay. I don't want to trouble you." Haruhi grinned, straightening her glasses. She walked over to Kyouya. Not only was the 'King' occupied with a long-haired bruenette, but Haruhi sensed that he was the man that handled the logistics of the club. "Ootori-senpai, may I please have some hot water and a cup?"
The light glinted off the older's glasses in a way that was somehow menacing. "Of course," he answered with a genial grin, yet Haruhi couldn't shake the thought that she had somehow trapped herself in a usurious debt. Kyouya indicated where they kept the kitchenware, and Haruhi grabbed the plainest cup she could find and filled an ewer from a prepared metal kettle. She brought it back to 'her' table, where she set it down and then started rummaging in her backpack.
"Haruhi-kun?" Ayano asked, confused.
"Ah! Knew I had some in here." Haruhi pulled out a small carton of instant coffee. She shook a little into her cup, then put it away. She poured in the hot water, then stirred the powder into the water with the end of her pen. In seconds, the concentrate had dissolved and Haruhi had a sub-par cup of coffee. "Sorry. So, what were we talking about?"
"How did you do that?" Kimi asked, looking like she'd just witnessed eldritch sorcery before her eyes.
Haruhi tilted her head. "What are you talking about? It's just instant coffee."
"Instant?" the three girls asked, tilting their heads much as Haruhi had.
"Yeah. You know, from concentrate. They made coffee-flavored crystals in a factory and shipped them to a supermarket. You add water and the crystals dissolve. Ta-da, instant coffee. It doesn't taste as good as the real stuff, but it's cheap and convenient." Haruhi realized her error. "Oh, that's right, you're all fabulously wealthy. You've probably never had anything from concentrate. All fresh-ground coffee and fresh-squeezed juice for you girls, wasn't it?"
"Wow! Who knew commoners were capable of such amazing acts of science!"
Haruhi felt her eye twitch. She turned, her face carefully neutral. "It's very rude to insert yourself into other people's conversations, Suou-senpai."
The 'King' acted like the word 'rude' had been an arrow piercing his breast, staggering backward. Or perhaps it was from the look in Haruhi's eyes.
"So poor people don't even have the time to grind their own coffee beans," Togama muttered to herself.
"It's not that, though there are people in the world that can't even afford coffee beans, let alone grinding them to make coffee," Haruhi corrected as gently as she could. "I wanted a drink, and I didn't want to trouble the club for a cup of coffee, since I assume the beverages are reserved for guests. But I figured water is free, and I knew I had a carton of instant with me, so I made do. Like I said, it's a convenience, a spare-every-expense kind of item for people on the go who don't care about quality or are on a budget."
For some reason, her words seemed to touch the other three girls.
"Can… can I try some of this instant coffee?" Ayano asked.
"Me too!" Kimi said.
"And me!" Togama said, blushing to the roots of her hair but looking oddly determined.
Haruhi shrugged. "Okay. But I warn you, you probably won't like it. It's not meant for such refined palates as yours, ladies."
"Don't care!" they said in unison.
"Well, if you're sure." Haruhi got up and got three more cups, unaware that everyone in the room was watching. Haruhi swiftly prepared three more cups of coffee and handed them to her companions. "Here you go."
They hesitated, apparently choking now that the moment of truth. Ayano was the first to muster her courage, taking a big gulp. Following her example, Kimi and Togama drank from their own cups."
"It's very flat and bitter," Ayano said quietly.
"There's hardly any aroma to speak of," Kimi noted with the air of a connoisseur.
"I suppose it's hot, at least," Togama stated, clearly trying not to insult Haruhi again.
"I tried to warn you." Haruhi offered an amused grin. "But that was very brave of you, trying something new. I'm impressed."
The three girls sent Haruhi looks that were oddly familiar. Where had she seen them before? Before she could puzzle it out, she noted a very tall and very short boy enter the room. "Oh, Haninozuka-senpai. Excuse me, my friends, I have to speak to him."
Haruhi left three girls with pounding hearts. Off to the side, Tamaki and the twins watched with disbelief and awe, while Kyouya had a calculating gleam to his features, but then when did he not?
"Sorry! We're running late. I fell asleep waiting for Takashi to get out of his kendo meeting, and I'm still a little sleepy," the blond cherub explained to his table.
"Excuse me, Haninozuka-senpai," Haruhi spoke up.
Mitsukuni turned, his whole face lighting up. "Haru-chan… I mean, Haruhi-san. You came back!"
Haruhi felt herself twitch again at such blatant familiarity, but she could forgive it for coming from such an adorable little munchkin. "I'd like to apologize for my outburst yesterday. I overreacted."
"Ne, ne, it's okay! Sometimes I forget myself." The boy pulled out the stuffed pink bunny from yesterday. "To say I'm sorry, I'll let you hold Usa-chan! 'Kay?"
Haruhi felt herself pink up a bit, but she couldn't think of a good enough reason to decline. "Um, okay?" She hesitantly took the child's toy, tucking it into the crook of her arm. She turned to the looming figure that was like the small boy's shadow. "Morinozuka-senpai. Congratulations on winning the title last month."
The boy's eyes lit up. Haruhi got the impression that people didn't address him often. "Thanks," he said, his gruff voice conveying heartfelt emotion in one syllable.
"Ne, Haru-chan! You watch kendo matches? That makes sense, you clearly know how to fight! That flip yesterday was really well done!" Mitsukuni or 'Honey-senpai' spoke up.
"Thanks. I've trained in aikido since I was 13. My sensei actually went to one of your family's dojos."
"Really?" Honey looked inordinately pleased with this information. Maybe he didn't get the chance to talk shop often? The students at Ouran seemed more the type to have bodyguards than learn self-defense.
"Yes. If you'll excuse me, I'll stop keeping you from your clients. I have some girls waiting for me back there. Have a good day… Mitsu-chan," Haruhi tacked on, feeling uncommonly bold. For some reason, she had the impulse to give the childish third-year a taste of his own medicine.
Haruhi turned to leave, making sure she had Usa-chan in a good grip. It was important to treat things that weren't yours with care. She sat back down at the table, surprised to see a few more girls hanging around. "Um, ladies?"
Ayano turned. Something in her seemed to melt when she saw Haruhi holding Usa-chan. "Haruhi-kun! Can you make us some more instant coffee? Some of the girls want to watch and taste for themselves!"
"Um, okay." With practiced movements, Haruhi made four more cups, using her own finished cup. The girls giggled and hovered around those that grabbed the cups like it was forbidden liquor or something much more exciting than coffee from concentrate.
Shrugging, figuring it was another quirk of the super-rich, Haruhi went back to her homework, bringing up Usa-chan every now and then to rub the softness against her cheek. She had no idea how adorable she looked, in her sweater and glasses, hair pulled back into a bun and eyes narrowed in focus, cuddling a pink bunny. The ladies swooned at the consummate 'sexy bookworm'.
Sooner than Haruhi had expected, Ranka burst into the room. Looks like he'd remembered Haruhi's mention of the club's location when she'd talked about the episode yesterday. "LET MY HARUHI GO, YOU FIENDS!"
Haruhi perked up. "Hi, Father!"
"FATHER?!" shouted the room, looking from the sexy lady(?) to Haruhi and back, trying to reconcile the male title with the, by all appearances, female adult.
"Haruhi!" Her dad bulldozed through all in his way, coming to smother her in hugs and kisses. "Are you traumatized? Did they do awful things to you?"
"No. I've just been making some friends and doing my homework."
"That's my Haruhi! So polite, so studious!" Ranka went from gushing to snarling in an instant. "Who's the punk who wouldn't let my Haruhi leave?"
"That would be Tamaki. He's over there," the twins supplied 'helpfully', pointing to where the blond King had slouched down so his head couldn't be seen over the sofa.
"You! How dare you keep my Haruhi prisoner! That's not a very princely thing to do, now is it?! You're a sad excuse for a host, for a student, and especially for a man!" Ranka ranted, practically with shark-teeth.
"He… he wouldn't say sorry for hitting me," Tamaki protested in a very small voice.
"If you were close enough that my Haruhi felt the need to flip you, then you were TOO close, mister! Wait till I go to the school board about this! Bullying my brilliant scholarship student, you should be ashamed of yourself!"
"There's no need for that, Father," Haruhi spoke up. "It actually wasn't that bad. I got to have some nice conversation with some lovely girls my age. He just had a tantrum, it's expected for someone his maturity level." Haruhi packed up her stuff. "Goodbye Ayano, everyone! Mitsu-chan, here's Usa-chan back." Having made her farewells, Haruhi hooked an arm with her father. "Come on, Father. Let's go home. I'll make you your favorite for worrying you needlessly."
"Wah! Such a perfect child! What did your mother and I do to deserve you?" Ranka wailed.
The two walked out of the Music Room, leaving behind a bewildered Host Club and their clientele.