There is quite a smattering of French throughout this fiction so here are a few key translations:
"mais oui" – "but yes" more accurately translated as "of course"
"Ça c'est une demoiselle très timide mais très jolie même-si" – "That is a maiden who is very timid but very pretty all the same"
"je suis très desolé qu'il faut que vous aviez m'attendu" – "I am very sorry that you were kept waiting"
Also, when Kyo says "Miss, your carriage awaits," he is using a common phrase that is utilized in host clubs to remind the patroness that her reservation has expired.
oOoOo
As the ancient clock on the fanciful bell tower that casts the shadow of Time over the entirety of our much beloved school struck the hour, the lovely French doors that guard the third music room spring open, allowing the chattering voices of the students to spill in, filling the quiet room.
Almost at once, the high-pitched giggles of our customers prelude their arrival into the fairytale that we, together, host and customer, have created through wealth and beauty. Immediately, Kyo is upon them, smiling his charismatic welcome, while, in his mind, I can see him furtively adding up the day's profits as he greets each client.
The Host Club. Ten years ago, the first King of the Host Club, Tamaki Suoh, brought together seven diverse individuals in one mandate – to entertain and bring happiness to others, their customers. Since this first "family," every year the Host Club has been a meeting place in which wealthy boys with time on their hands amused wealthy girls with time on their hands and garnered a profit. Now, this is my Host Club and my family, and I am happy to be here with them.
"You have a customer, Aki." Suddenly, Kyo is standing before me, impatience clearly written across his pale features and a scowl forming at the edges of his lips. I shake my trademark golden hair from my face and send Kyo an apologetic smile before turning towards the shell pink table at which my first customer of the day is waiting. Immediately, lines of flowery prose spring to my mind, and, before I give too much thought to it, roll from my tongue as I bend to brush my lips against the outstretched hand of the blushing maiden. In the traditional caterer's costume, I proffer our menu of refreshments to her with a flourish. While she pauses to consider the various sweets and beverages, I appraise the girl before me. She is small and slight with a gentle expression. The faintest of blushes still tainted her cheeks a pale rose – a first time customer. In order to make her feel more at ease, I present her with my warmest smile as I take her order and leave to fetch the tea and cakes.
"Make yourself comfortable," I murmur softly and am gratified by a slight nod as she scoots further into the loveseat we occupy.
After a successful half hour of pleasant conversation, my client is finally relaxing in the genial atmosphere of the Host Club. I listen with interest as she describes her pet rabbit and classmates with a becoming timidity. My heart falls slightly as I notice Kyo standing behind me with a bland expression on his face – most unflattering to his vivid features.
"Miss, your carriage awaits." How many times must I tell him to say "princess". "Miss" is so bland and impersonal that the poor girl will feel as if we do not wish her to be here. With a startled "oh," my lady stands, the lovely flush returning to her porcelain skin as she glances at
Kyo with the utmost shyness.
"Will I have the pleasure of your company again, ma princesse?" I whisper in her ear, attempting to soften Kyo's harsh announcement. A pretty scarlet suffuses her cheeks.
"M-mais … Ou-oui," she falters in accented French as I see her to the opened doors.
"Ah. Ça c'est une demoiselle très timide mais très jolie même-si," I remark to Kyo with a regretful sigh as she leaves. Untouched, that unfeeling man I call a friend merely taps my shoulder with his pen and observes,
"Every girl, my friend, to you, is pretty. Now, I think you know you're next customer," he points to a well-developed girl occupying a burnished gold lounge chair to a side of the room, "I need to get back to my client." Glancing hurriedly at a lonely looking young woman sitting primly in a pale pink chair, he strides over, making (what I hope are) tender apologies as he returns to her side. Not to be outdone, I make my way to the lady in the lounge chair.
"Mademoiselle Yuki, je suis très desolé qu'il faut que vous aviez m'attendu," I make my apology as I flourish a bow. She smiles benignly as I take my seat and present the menu.
"The same as usual, you know," she warbles, "I simply adore the chocolate cake here, especially with all that fudge icing. It's simply delectable! And the hot chocolate, but, of course, you know I never drink the regular." Seeing an opportunity to further increase my patroness's happiness, I reply,
"Of course – how could I forget, mademoiselle? White chocolate – only the richest and finest for the loveliest of ladies." The blush had barely warmed the healthily tanned face of my lady before she continues our conversation, the stamina and flexibility of her lively tongue truly admirable. Pausing for breath, she gasps out,
"My faith I'm dying of thirst. Sorry to trouble you, but do you think you could bring my hot chocolate now, Aki? I'm positively sure that I'm going to die of dehydration within the next five minutes if I don't refresh myself." As she has exhausted herself by exercising the exalted art of conversation, I am more than happy to bring her what she requires.
"It is no trouble at all, mademoiselle. I would have fetched the refreshments sooner, but I was so enthralled by mademoiselle's charming conversation …" I allow myself to trail off as I rise to bring the chocolate and cake.
oOoOo
"Milord!" Kazuo is desperately attempting to attract my attention from behind the bamboo screen. I spare him a glance and place a finger to my lips, signaling for silence.
"Milord!" Kazuo tries again, gesticulating wildly. I sigh, knowing that until I hear him out, Kazuo isn't going to allow me to entertain my guest properly.
"My apologies, my lady, but I must beg your indulgence to be excused for the tiniest of moments," I request of my guest. She glances at me and gives a nod that signifies brevity and decision.
"Do not be gone for too long. I do not enjoy sitting here alone," she charges me.
"Of course not. How could I part long from your presence, my lady?" I reply as I stalk to where Kazuo is waiting impatiently. When will he finally understand that the interests of the lady comes first, above all else?
"Can't this wait?" I demand, "Can't you see I have a customer? Now the poor maiden is going to sit there in loneliness and abandonment because you couldn't wait for a moment!" Kazuo cuts me short on my rant on the necessary delicacies to be observed when in feminine company.
"Milord! This is an emergency!" He whispers the necessary details into my ear and points towards the lower left hand corner of the room where Hani, Nori, and Kyo are all gathered around a girl in a gilded chair.
"First time customer?" I whisper back, the conspirational nature of the conversation placing me in a state of utmost excitement. Kazuo nods energetically.
"It's all up to you now, milord!" So saying, he gives me a shove towards the corner.
Stumbling to a stop right before the girl and grasping onto her seat for support, I mentally maul Kazuo for effectively throwing any hopes of a graceful entrance out the window. Over my shoulder, I glare at the twin as he snorts into his hand.
"She doesn't look like she's having any fun," Hani whispers concernedly into my ear. I nod my acknowledgement. As they leave, Kyo touches me lightly on the shoulder.
"Good luck," he murmurs. I focus all of my attention on the princess before me. As I take her hand to make my bow, she rises and returns the courtesy with an aristocratic curtsy – bending her slender neck over our hands, while sweeping her dress behind her with the other hand. Her hair is straight and black, brushing my palm as she withdraws her hand and observes me with a pair of liquid gold eyes. Something in her features renders them uncannily exotic. Noting my scrutiny, she graces me with a cool glance before seating herself and quietly telling me,
"My father is British." Her voice has an unimpressed, autocratic note to it despite all the soft refinement of the sound. I fight down a blush, God, I hate playing the fool. British, that definitely explains her manner. I invite myself to the seat beside her.
"Are you a new student?" Upon hearing my inquiry, her expression softens and I know I have touched a chord. She nods. A very self-possessed girl. "Ah, I see. Well, let me extend my warmest welcome to you. Ouran isn't so bad once you become accustomed towards it."
She smiles as she demurs, "Of course my mother ensured that I was well aware of my Asiatic heritage, but …" she flails for the term, "the culture shock is still," she pauses, "very strong." Of course, she grew up in England so Japan must still be very different for her.
"Do you miss it? Your home? And parents?" I know I am treading on dangerous territory, but I'm willing to take the chance. The faintest traces of tears begin to form at the edges of her eyes.
"Sometimes," seeing my sympathetic glance, she expands, "especially on rainy days. The rain here," she hesitates, "the rain, it doesn't sing to me. It just isn't the same." Having expected her to say that she missed her parents the most, or her friends, hearing her mention missing England's rain, I mentally draw a blank. In response to my confused expression, she corrects herself, "Never mind, Japan is my home now." She turns away. Feeling slightly guilty, I drape a light hug casually around her shoulders while she fights the tears with a truly British pride. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I remember my father telling me that the British disapprove of strong emotions.
"Feeling better?" I inject a light tone into the inquiry. She smiles at me and suddenly melts into a fit of laughter, clutching my shoulders as she shakes sporadically. I wince, this is going to leave bruises. Finally, her chortles calm down and she manages to gasp out,
"It must sound so ridiculous to you, admit it," she giggles some more, "but, I think, I'm going to like it here, even if the rain doesn't sing." I take the liberty of ruffling her hair, feeling sorry for the poor maiden, all alone in a foreign country, even if some of her notions were slightly unconventional.
"Don't worry, maybe you'll allow the Host Club the privilege of showing you around Tokyo?" In response, she smiles warmly.
"Friends?" she offers me a small hand in a frank manner that is much more becoming than the elegant manners she exhibited before. Grinning like an idiot, I take her hand and shake it energetically.
"Friends."
oOoOo
A soft sigh escapes my lips as the last customer is ushered out by a grinning Kyo and the French doors swing shut for the day.
"Not bad. Not bad," he mutters, "We may reach a new record yet." I smile languidly at him as I lounge on a soft pink sofa. Hiroshi drapes himself tiredly over the back of my seat and flashes a Cheshire grin.
"I still don't know how you do it, milord," he rests a bright red head on an arm, "that girl was … impossible." I peer out of one eye at him and enunciate a lazy "Hm?"
Hani drags himself over to my sofa and curls up next to me, his soft strawberry shampoo inducing another wave of drowsiness. Already dozing quietly against a wall, Nori mutters something in his sleep before turning away.
"That lady was so sad," Hani observes candidly, "she said her friend dragged her here because the other lady thought we could cheer her up." I let a low chuckle escape my throat as I pat Hani's pale brown hair. "I hope we made her happier," he tells me wistfully.
"Mm" I reply as Kazuo makes a half-hearted tackle at his twin and the two tumble onto the carpeted floor. "You know," I remark to a smirking Kyo, "we should start searching for that seventh member soon," a cloud of reminiscence floats across my thoughts, "I still remember that day last year when Ka and Hiro ambushed me outside of my last class and told me that they wanted me to be the 'King.'" Kyo's orange-brown eyes flicker to me from the accounts he is organizing on the laptop.
"It was the same for every one of us," he remarks, "though, I'll admit, it was a real stroke of luck finding the twins. It had been a while since the Host Club had been able to find actual twins." Hearing themselves mentioned, Hiroshi and Kazuo look up from their wrestling match on the ground.
"What'll we do when you and Nori graduate, though," I muse. It would be difficult, replacing Kyo and Nori, especially since building the strong bonds that we have developed takes time. Definitely not an overnight affair. For a moment, Nori's barely audible snores are my only response before Kyo takes a deep breath and pragmatically responds,
"You'll find somebody to replace us, of course." I shoot him the best glare I can manage considering that he is merely telling the uncomfortable truth.
"I don't want to," I sulk, knowing I sound like a seven year old child who has been spoiled rotten all his existence and not caring. Stalking to my "Brooding Corner" as the twins have playfully dubbed it, I crouch with my arms folded and my back towards the offending party. I hear Kyo's exasperated sigh as he attempts to keep his temper from flaring at me. Of course, as always, he loses the battle.
"Do you think I want to go?" he demands, "Do you think any of us want to leave anymore than you do? Goddammit, Aki, stop being so goddamned selfish all the time!" He takes a few angry strides towards me, thinks better of it, whirls around, and sinks into an armchair.
So I made him furious again. Good. So Kyo still cares, even if he tries to hide it.
Suddenly, I'm laughing as Kyo stares at me bewilderedly, a smirk tugging at the edges of his lips even as puffs of angry breath blow out of his flaring nostrils.
"God, Aki, sometimes you act like an utterly immature five year old. I have no idea what those women see in you," Kyo finally gives in. I grin at him.
"You're just jealous." He rolls his eyes.
"Yeah right. I don't even know how you survive with all those women crawling all over you almost twenty-four seven. At least you seem to like it."
"Whatever makes them happy." Kazuo releases his twin from his previous pinned position on the floor as he comments,
"Milord is the salvation of all womankind. He doesn't care whether you're tall or short, fat or thin – as long as you're a girl, he's willing to spend time with you." Sneaking up behind me, Hiroshi throws an arm around my shoulders.
"Seriously, milord, if you did not adhere to such a strict code of etiquette, you would be the most infamous man-whore in existence," he sniggers. Sharing a devilish smirk with his twin, Kazuo elaborates,
"Women can't resist milord, but milord cannot resist women either!" Like they're any better. At least I have a code of honor regarding the weaker gender, I'll be surprised if there's a single girl in the entire school that those two haven't at least made a pass at. Though I'll admit, when it's merely one or the other, the girl might have a chance, but once faced with that pair of Gemini together, she's as good as lost.
A resonant chime rings across the nearly empty school. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. We must have lost track of time. A quick glance around the room reveals an already sleeping Hani and a just stirring to wakefulness Nori. The clicking noise stops as Kyo looks up from his laptop and gives a passing glance at his watch.
"Well," he snaps the laptop shut and stuffs it back into its carrier, "look at the time. Everybody out." Hani yawns slightly as Kyo herds all of us out and locks the Third Music Room's doors behind us.
"Bye Kyo-chan! Bye Nori-chan! Bye Hiro-chan! Bye Ka-chan! Bye Aki-chan!" Hani waves at us vigorously. I gasp, slightly winded, as he tackles me with a hug.
"See ya." Kyo waves down his father's chauffeur and steps into the black limo. Nori nods at each of us in turn before mounting his bike and riding towards his house, which is a mere two blocks away. Flashing identical smiles, Kazuo and Hiroshi clamber into their Jaguar, tussling briefly over the keys, and speeding away. Throwing my bag over a shoulder, I amble into the warm evening – it is still early autumn as yet and the air is warm.
oOoOo
Watching the clear river reflect the purple sunset as it rushes under the bridge, I am startled by a soft tap from behind. Turning around, I see the girl from earlier smiling at me. Having changed into a pair of blue jeans and a white cotton shirt with a pale blue head scarf wrapped around her dark hair, she looks more natural than she did in the brown dress that is our school uniform. Of course, if any girl can look more or less than a doll in that ridiculous dress, I would be surprised.
She takes my arm as I offer it to her and leans against it slightly, the faint perfume of roses floating from her soft hair. As we walk in companionable silence, I can hear her humming soft strains of a melancholy tune as she takes in the scenery that surrounds her. I don't want to break the perfect tranquility, but perhaps she would think me rude if I did not at least attempt at conversation.
"What are you humming mademoiselle?" I inquire gently, finding that I don't have the slightest notion of what her name is. She regards me with such strangely luminous golden eyes that I begin to wonder if I haven't imagined her existence. This whole scene with the faintest fragrance of roses, the soft strains of song, the setting sun, seems so impossible that I am inclined to fancy myself asleep.
"It feels like a dream, doesn't it," she voices my thoughts, but dances around my question. "Everything is so perfect, I don't think … maybe we're asleep, or" she pauses, "maybe we're really living a fairytale and nothing terrible could ever happen ever, ever again." She trails off, a dreamy expression in her eyes as she watches the deep, sensual violet sky fade into midnight blue. I catch the traces of a song as she continues to hum beneath her breath – "Rainy day man, on your shoulder I cried …"
My mind fades into a blissful blankness as we wander through the streets – anywhere, everywhere – it doesn't really matter – not to me, not to her. Perhaps everything is better this way, just wandering along the path that life has laid before you, letting everything take its natural course. My thoughts trail off.
"What do they call you? Your friends?" My eyes snap to her face. I hadn't quite expected that.
"Most of them call me 'Aki,' except," I scowl, "that pair of incorrigible twins – they still insist on calling me 'milord' no matter how many times I tell them 'no.'" She grins.
"I like that. So that's what I'll call you." I cock an eyebrow at her. How vague.
"Aki?" I ask. She shakes her head.
"Nope. 'Milord.' I like how that sounds, don't you?" Apparently someone wasn't paying attention. But my gentlemanly manners must still remain intact despite my immense chagrin.
"Of course, anything you call me, mademoiselle, is delightful." Alright, so I am somewhat of a pushover around women. She flushes and releases my arm.
"None of that. It's forbidden," she mumbles, trying to hide her rosy cheeks. "I am my father's daughter after all." Her father's daughter. How strange.
The shrill giggle of a feminine voice and the answering laugh in a deep masculine tone breaks the serenity of the nightscape. My companion whirls around and regards them, the well-dressed man visibly drunk, the pretty foreign woman slightly less so. Her pale hair floats about her as she watches her male escort worriedly.
"Sir," she trills, "you must be getting home. What will your lady think?" The man pushes her supporting arm away as he stumbles to the side of the road.
"Let 'er wor – wor – worry," he slurs, "Ah paid goo'monay an' Ah wanna ge'mah monaysh worsh."
"Here, let me escort you back to the bar where you can sleep it off." So saying the woman turns, staggering under the intoxicated man's weight and enters the fancy building which they had just exited. I turn to see the girl's large golden eyes returning my gaze curiously.
"What is that place?" she asks, inquisitiveness lacing her voice. Taking her arm, I gently guide her away from that place.
"A hostess bar. It's nothing, really," I attempt to pass off my discomfiture with a smile.
"Ah. I see." She lets the subject drop, but I can see that she is not satisfied with my answer. Inwardly, I flinch, imagining the innocent maiden searching up such a sordid concept on the internet.
My stomach emits a soft growl and does a flip-flop as I remember that I haven't partaken of any repast since early afternoon. She raises her eyebrows and shoots me a glance before taking my hand and guiding me towards a nearby café. Inside the fluorescent light of the restaurant, she drags me towards a table and sits down in the chair opposite me before I can make a move to pull it out for her.
"Sit," she orders curtly. Seeing that all my protests will be in vain, I sit, fiddling with the plastic flowers in a cheap vase on the table. A yawning waiter shuffles over to our table, a cardboard list of refreshments in hand.
"What can I get for you?" he gapes, revealing a golden tooth. I ponder the choices before me and order a ham sandwich and a lemonade. She waves the menu away. Soon my order is sitting before me while I shamelessly devour the sandwich in, what, I believe, are enormous bites. My lady merely watches me quietly, a wistful half-smile playing about her lips, as I satiate my hunger. As the last drops of lemonade roll down my parched throat, my lady says in a voice so quiet that I barely hear her,
"Monsieur, s'il vous plaît." The drowsy waiter shambles over again, a bill in hand. Before my lady can take it, though, I stand to intercept the bill.
"Mademoiselle, I appreciate the thought, but I cannot allow you to do so." So saying, I hand the waiter a few bills and rise, again offering her my arm. She smiles.
"You do have some funny old-fashioned notions, milord," my companion remarks as we exit the building.
A middle-aged German lady's maid meets us outside, her kindly face flustered and upset.
"My lady!" she exclaims, latching onto the arm of my companion with a truly formidable grip, "Where have you been? The whole menagerie has been up in arms because of you!" The girl looks properly abashed as she replies,
"Just out walking, Fraulëin. No need to be alarmed." Grabbing the girl by her shoulders from behind, the dame effectively steers my companion towards a waiting sedan in much the same way as a mother hen would guide a wayward duckling, muttering "out at this ungodly hour with a boy from God knows where, if your father, his Honorable lordship should ever hear of this" the whole while.
My lady holds my hand for an instant longer before allowing herself to be ushered away, regret and apology apparent in her eyes.
"I'm sorry about Fraulëin, she tends to overreact, but it's only because she cares about me. She's been my nanny since forever, you know," she whispers as the dame steers her away. "Goodnight, milord."
"Goodnight mademoiselle," I bid her before she is whisked away.
I haven't even asked her name.
oOoOo
Well, the first real chapter is now up. Took me entire day + distractions. I wanted the girl to be more of a Juliet type character – sheltered, romantic, but independent all the same. As you probably already know, the story is in Aki's point of view, so if some of the ways in which women are described seem odd, blame it on his psych. It was loads of fun imagining how Aki must view "the weaker gender" though – a very different perspective from the one I'm accustomed to. If there are any discrepancies or confusion, feel free to send me a message, or ask me in a review.