Me: Kamusta na kayo! Irrashaimaste (my horrible hearing of Japanese isn't helping anyone)! Hola! And Hello again! This was supposed to be the prologue, but the other chapter seemed to sound more like a prologue than this one. So don't be surprised if this chapter sounds a bit like a prologue.
Enjoy and review! It means a LOT if you do. ;)
Disclaimer: I don't own Ouran, for Bisco Hatori does. She's one bad-ass manga writer/ artist. :-bd
Chapter 1:
~Abby's POV~
"Tell me again why we have to go to Japan? And why by plane?" I hate sounding so desperate and childish, but flights plus Ms. Abigail Priscilla Rodriguez equals massive migraines and flashbacks to excessive aerial nosebleeds, which are never good. I hook myself to the arm of the red-head beside me and tilt my head up to face him, not helping my "don't-look-childish-in-front-of-the-ignoramus" motto. "We can just time travel to the exact time. Less nausea."
Li's fixing up paperwork and passports that I usually handle. I honestly don't know where this serious side comes from, but it's rare. It's one of the sad facts of life that I have to suffer from the English trickster side of his personality. "Because He told us that the reason behind Japan's rule and the people who can help us are in the present. Redundant, yeah?" He says, slightly still noticing the English accent in his voice. I never get tired of that.
"Very. I'm guessing that's the only clue he's giving us?" I practically whimper, looking up at his golden Cheshire eyes
He nods.
I sigh. "Great." Noticing that he's pretty much preoccupied and that we're almost landing, I sit myself upright and clumsily fasten my seatbelt. His busy composure breaks as I do so, however, when I see him look at me from his peripheral vision. "Well, you're the mind-reader here. Where do we start?"
"Right around… here." He points to a map that, thanks to our "mystical ways," acts like an iPad (which kind of makes me wonder why we can't use an iPad instead). He's pointing to a very posh building that doesn't seem very historical. I look closer and notice that it's not a normal building.
It's a school.
Ouran Academy.
~Kaoru's POV~
"Hikaru! Don't leave me alone with this homework! You know I'm bad at Math!" Ah, the magic of acting. Why did Kyoya have to let us do full-day hosting? It gets tiring.
Hikaru strides over to my table and sees the graphing paper full of lines and scribbles. Fully minding the 10-A fan girls, he lifts my chin with his pen so that I could look at him. "Is my little brother a little tired? He's answering the wrong questions." I force my eyes to look down at my paper. It was the wrong homework. Whoops.
At least it makes the situation more believable.
I turn my head away like in our usual sessions. "It's not my fault that you wanted to sleep while I was cramming. I could have told you that I was busy, but I didn't want to disturb you as well." I say, facing away and trying to look like I was hurt.
I'm guessing our little plan is working, because I can sense the tension between the fan girls as Hikaru grabs my cheek with his hand. He looks at my eyes with equally teary ones. "I'm sorry, Kaoru. I didn't realize. Will you forgive me?"
That causes a few squeals. I can see the faces of the girls silently sharing thoughts to one another: Is Kaoru going to forgive his brother? Will they have another huge fight? Only we know the answer to that.
I stand up, hug my brother, and try to look sincere and unbothered by the screams as I say, "What's there to forgive? I'll never be mad at you, Hikaru!"
The floor shakes as the class screams with "KYAAAAAAAA~~~"s and "MOOOEEEEEEE~~~~"s. Hikaru, still part of the act, grabs my wrist to get graphing paper because I "forgot" my extras at home.
I can see you over thinking. Maybe sharing the seme-uke role is a bad idea. I can sense Hikaru saying that through his facial expression he practically threw towards me. I use to find it weird that Hikaru's voice was so clear in my head, but I got use to it.
Are you kidding me? Dude, you heard their screams. They loved it. As usual, I think it; he receives it. No explanation necessary.
Our mother used to find it weird, our unspoken twin telepathy. It's the only think keeping me and Hikaru from being too clueless about each other. My theory is that from our lonely days before the Host Club, we hung around each other way much more than necessary. We don't mind it, of course, so we just let it become part of who we are.
Our little trip to the lockers was pretty soon stopped, however, when the first period teacher comes in and we take out usual seats on either side of Haruhi. The teacher is a pudgy, short man with gold-rimmed glasses. His semi-bald head is covered with a comb-over until his flabby neck. A sweat-stained shirt and necktie stretched across his clothing, almost looking like stripes. We call him Jollibee after this Philippine commoner fast-food mascot who resembles his look.
And yes, Tono became interested in other countries' commoner fare, starting with the Hitachiin's Filipino heritage. I honestly don't know for certain if we're 1/64th Filipino, but leave it to Kyoya to know every single student's family heritage tracing back to the caveman days. There is a benefit to it, though: apparently, Haruhi is 1/16th Filipino, so you can probably imagine Tono's face when he found out.
He tries to sort out his stained papers as I "unconsciously" tap my blue pen against my lower lip for the fans. "Class," he starts as usual without even glancing at the class, "you all know the drill in the morning. Reply slips due today and payments are to be give—"
He was interrupted by a knock from the door. Jollibee, irritated as usual, scurries off to see what it's about. From his frustrated stance, he turns calm and stiff. I guess Mr. Suo is there to talk about some random school documents. He checks a list of what looks like an attendance sheet and he steps away from the door. Two unfamiliar students trail behind the pudgy teacher. I stare at my twin (and, by default Haruhi, who's also looking at me) for a second, trying to comprehend what has happened.
A black-haired girl entered the room with a clone of me trailing behind.
His eyes locked with Hikaru, then mine, and it was like staring into a far mirror. Only this time, your reflection is smirking at your astonished appearance. I glance at the girl looking at my mirror image. Her face first seemed to register as shocked, and slowly diminished into a calm state as three words from out of nowhere echoed in my ears:
We got them.
"Class, I'd like you to meet the exchange students from the Philippines."
Author's Notes/ Side Story:
Honey-sempai: I like it! What do you think, Takashi and other people? Huh? Huh? :3 Please rate and review! I'll give you cake~! Usa-chan will be upset if you don't. :(
Mori: Hmm...
Me: You readers want cake, right? Or Tamaki's Kuma-chan? :D
Tamaki: NOOOO. MY KUMA-CHAN. -Tries to snatch Kuma-chan from my hands-
Kyoya: Tamaki, it's a fa-
Me: SSSSSHHHHHHHZSRXDTFCYVGHBUNJ! Don't mind what he said; it's the real Kuma-chan. :D I'll update when Tamaki figures out this isn't the real Kuma-chan. Bye for now~
A/N: Yay! You've actually read until this chapter! I would hug you all if I could! :3 Please review, m'darlings. You know you want to. ;D
