Monday 24th April 2014, 08:32

Ouran High Shool, Class 1A

"Haaaaruhiiiii~" Tamaki trilled, his head sliding into view from around the side of the doorway, his hands holding to the wooden panelling as if he were floating on his side; a few people in our homeroom looked round, whispering and giggling. Primarily it was girls who responded, many first years being regulars to his Hosting table - a couple of boys rolled their eyes, both at him and at me, as though it were my fault the eccentric blonde had seen fit to scamper away from his own homeroom and pester me. "Guess what it is next weeeeeek~" The twins, from their seats on either side of me, looked up in unison.

"What - don't we get a greeting, too?" they asked indignantly, pouting childishly as Tamaki entered the room with his usual air of perkiness and exuberance.

"Clearly not," I answered them, returning my attention to unpacking my bag. "Senpai, don't you have registration or some club planning session with Kyoya-senpai?" The blonde's face fell comically, as it always did (the big drama king...)

"But neither one of those things is even half as exciting as what's happening next week, my dear daughter...!" he said sullenly, trying to appeal to my non-existent-non-conformist side or else the side of me that had the will power to go along with his eccentricities. Deciding it would be more time (and money) efficient to hear him out in order for him to get back to his own bloody homeroom, and the bespectacled boy with black hair who was expecting him for a talk about funding (for which he would no doubt add a thousand yen to my debt for each second lost) I heeded his whim.

"Alright, then, senpai," I said in a chipper voice, expertly feigning curiosity - having been in the Host Club this long I'd picked up a number of tricks from Tamaki and the twins. "Tell me, please - what's going on next week?"

Immediately he seemed to radiate sparks from his great surge of enthusiasm.

"Oh, my, Haruhi, how clever you are!" he marvelled, taking me by the hands and pulling me to my feet. "I simply knew you would catch on that there was something exciting going on!"

"Rather difficult not to when you're shouting about it across a classroom..." the twins muttered unanimously. Tamaki, however, absorbed in his own personal bubble of glowing eagerness, had failed to hear their exchange and was instead beaming jubilantly at me across the desk as though I were God's gift to the world (which was surprising, in consideration of the fact that he believed himself to be that heavenly gift).

"But what is going on?" I asked, still none the wiser for all this build-up. Rather than telling me, personally, he told the whole room.

"Next week, for the first time, the Ouran Host Club will be sponsoring the annual May Day festivities!" he called, thrusting his hands high in the air like some self-possessed circus performer. There was silence for a moment as everyone looked around at each other, then there was a humble smattering of applause (to which Tamaki bowed graciously) and the talk once again swelled.

"Congratulations!"

"It's such an honour to host the May Day Festival! I'm really happy for you lot."

"I'm sure you'll do so much better than the Newspaper Club did last year - what even was that?"

"What are you planning, Tamaki-senpai?" a girl asked excitedly, appearing at his elbow like an adoring puppy.

"Well, I haven't officially consulted the rest of the club yet," he said without a care, and I knew full well how very much he should care - whatever he was planning it was sure to be the most extravagant thing Ouran had ever seen, and Kyoya was going to snap right into his Shadow King mode of Ultimate Death and Darkness the moment he heard what the Host Club King had it store. They'd be at it hammer and tong, with Tamaki whining in his Corner of Woe and Kyoya typing away furiously at his calculator; it happened so often, you'd think I'd be used to it, but I guess there's no real way to fully wrap your head around pure idiocy and keep it there. "But, considering how the first day of May coincides with a full moon, I thought it would be positively marvellous if we could have a school dance - a ball, if you will."

There was a collective intake of breath from a number of girls who had come over and surrounded him, before they all started squealing with delight; the twins and I exchanged glances as I sat down.

"Kyoya-senpai is not going to like this," Hikaru said from my right.

"Not one little bit," Kaoru said from my left.

"Oh, nonsense!" Tamaki said brightly, playfully batting away the girls around him as he headed jauntily towards to door. "Kyoya's my best friend and club manager, I'm sure he'll have great fun getting in revenue from the ticket prices."

"Don't be so sure that he's going to say 'yes', Tamaki-senpai," I told him in a warning voice.

"Oh, Haruhi," Tamaki winked as he reached the door, propping it open with his foot, "You underestimate my charm - there's no chance at all that he'll say 'no'."


Monday 24th April 2014, 11:07

OuranHigh School, Music Room 3

"No."

"But - "

"No."

"But - "

"No."

Tamaki was whining in the corner (as was to be expected) while Kyoya typed away at his compact black calculator (as was to be expected). Having been in the club room for I think a record of one and a half minutes, break having started at five past eleven, Tamaki and Kyoya were battling it out as hard as they ever did with a seemingly never-ending exchange of the same monosyllabic retort, set to the accompaniment of Honey's rhythmic cake-munching.

"Tamaki, just drop it," I called from over the top of my book, after a particularly pitiable moan sounded from his corner along with a rustling of fabric and a sort of thump as the blonde threw himself upon the floor in a fit of dejection. "Kyoya-senpai is right - a ball is far too extravagant for the kind of funds we get, despite the amazing job he does with all the records and such."

"Thank you, Haruhi," Kyoya said with a self-satisfied sort of nod towards me in acknowledgment of his superiority in the matter. "That's a hundred yen off your debt, for a compliment like that."

"Will I get even more off if I keep reminding you of your brilliance?" I asked teasingly, though deep down I was more than just a tiny bit hopeful. Kyoya laughed, one that was neither fake nor wholly genuine; beside me, Mori looked up from his book of kendo techniques and smiled fractionally at me. I returned it with a little wink.

"Oh, honestly," the bespectacled boy tutted, flipping open his little black notebook and making a number of scribbles in his illegible doctor's handwriting, "As if I need reminding." I rolled my eyes, reverting my attention to the book in my hands. No sooner had I read two sentences than there came another, even more pathetic, wail from Tamaki. Kyoya sighed and snapped his book shut. "However, if you can think of a way to end this blithering idiot's suffering in a way that does not inconvenience the club's funds, I'll knock a few thousand from the current sum."

At this I immediately lost interest in my book, dropping it hurriedly onto the coffee table before us and putting a hand to my mouth in thought; Mori chuckled lightly from my right.

"Earlier this morning Tamaki said something about charging for tickets," I said, frowning a little at nothing in particular.

"Yes, but that's a given for the Festival," Kyoya cut across me, "It's a fund-raising event for the whole school, so ticket sales are the bare minimum - honestly, Haruhi, I expected more from you than just ticket selling."

"Since the Host Club was chosen to host is this year," I continued over him, refusing his condescension, "We could organise it like a Hosting session, but bigger." I looked over my shoulder to see Kyoya standing behind the sofa. His black book was open again, pen poised and ready in hand. I didn't need his invitation to continue; it was obvious I'd sparked his interest with the mention of expanding everything (including profits) that we did on a regular basis. "But, to be realistic," I said, standing up and folding my arms to avoid having to look behind me to talk to him, "With the idea Tamaki has in mind for a ball doing what we would usually do, like taking groups of people to different areas and entertaining them, is not only rather antisocial for an even such as this but also very segregating because it would only be girls who would come and cut revenue in half."

"Then what would we do?" Kyoya inquired, eyes fixated upon the scribbling of his pen. I allowed him a few moments to finish what he was writing before continuing. During this time Tamaki had managed to drag himself over, as well as the twins who had finally seen fit to arrive on time before club hours for once.

"Well," I said, putting my hands on my hips to address them all, "In fairs and such in the town centre you get things like photo booths and food stalls and artisan tables with lots of things to buy." Being rich, as they were, they were mostly fascinated by the kinds of things commoners did for entertainment - Tamaki had virtually squealed with glee at the mention of photo booths. Kyoya, however, was intrigued only by the idea that many students attending Ouran would never have experienced something such as a commoner's fair.

"Interesting," he said, pushing the glasses further up his thin nose so the light glinted off them demonically. "I'm sure Tamaki would greatly enjoy investing in a photo booth."

"I'm sure he would," the twins said, exchanging knowledgeable glances.

"What's more," I carried on, "We can cut the cost of hiring a photographer by asking the photography club to help us out - after all, it's not wholly down to one club to organise everything. It's a school-wide thing. Mori-senpai?" I said, looking round at him. Immediately he looked up at me, putting away his book. "You're friends with the president of the photography club, aren't you?"

"Yeah, she's in our class!" Honey piped up, looking up from his tray of cakes and beaming up me. "You're so clever to think of this, Haru-chan!" I smiled at him. He was so endearing, sometimes.

"Would you two be able to ask her for us?" I asked.

"Yeah~!"

"Ah," Mori nodded, and my smile widened. I bowed my head to him in thanks.

"Thank you so much, Mori-senpai, Honey-senpai."

"No problem," the tall third year said as I turned back to face the others. Kyoya was still feverishly writing in his notebook, hurriedly circling things and putting bullet points, Tamaki watched avidly over his shoulder.

"What did you mean by artisan tables, Haruhi?" the twins asked with interest, looking at me with expectancy.

"Well..." I paused, folding my arms and putting one hand to my mouth. "Usually it's people trying to sell little trinkets that they've made like necklaces and scarves - which I think would be nice for something like a ball, but I suppose all the girls are already going to be wearing jewellery when they arrive - so I was kind of thinking we could sell corsages to the boys to give to their dates?"

"The flower arranging club would be good for that," Hikaru said.

"And the art club," Kaoru added. I nodded, pleased that so far my ideas were going down really rather well. Kyoya looked up from his note taking.

"Presidents of both clubs are in our class," he said. "We can find out how much a corsage would cost to make and add twenty percent on to the selling price - that should make a good profit, should they prove popular. Some good ideas you have here, Haruhi. I'm quite impressed; that'll be another thousand off your debt. Having someone like you is a real benefit to the Host Club." He looked at me, flashing a smile. For once, I think his smile is actually real.

"Haruhi! Oh, my clever little daughter!"

Before Tamaki could hug me and bowl me onto the floor, I sat down. Despite this, Tamaki still managed to knock me over as he fell on me over the top of the sofa: I was thrown sideways into Mori, who caught me hastily and held me upright so I didn't break my neck; Tamaki, however, got a faceful of table.


Monday 24th April 2014, 17:35

Fuijoka Residence

"I'm home!" I called as I closed the front door behind me, taking off my school shoes and slipping my feet into the house slippers. I was able to hear dad humming from the kitchen along with the sounds and smells of chicken stir fry sizzling in a pan.

"Welcome home, Honeybuns!" he said loudly, and I rolled my eyes despite smiling as I walked to my room. "Do you want to watch America's Next Top Model with me after dinner, tonight?"

"No thanks, dad," I replied, dropping my bag on the bed and rummaging through it for my notepad.

"What!?" I heard his hurried footsteps, and then his head popped round the doorframe. "Don't you try and hide it, young lady, I know it's your guilty pleasure - besides, everything else is so dull! Do you honestly think that I'd want to watch the news? About the only 'breaking news' they're capable of is the raise in gas prices!" I sighed, turning to look at him with a smile. He was doing the puppy dog pout he thinks works on me.

"Dad, that look may have worked on mom but it sure as sugar won't work with me," I told him, shirking off my blazer and walking over to the door with it slung over my arm.

"But you love ANTM~!" he pleaded, pout intensifying. "And it's the season finale tonight - don't you want to find out who won!?"

"As much as I enjoy it from time to time," I said firmly, hooking up the blazer on the loop of the door, "I'm super busy right now - I have all sorts of club stuff to plan and... yeah."

"Oooh, club stuff!" he exclaimed, pushing himself into the room and sitting down with a soft thwump upon my mattress. He drew up his legs and crossesd them beneath him like a girl at a sleepover. "Tell me all about it!"

"Dad," I groan, folding my arms and tapping my finger warningly.

"What, is it super top secret?" he asked, winking one of those violently powdered eyes of his. "No wonder my dear Kyoya-kun hasn't confided in me, yet."

"Well, it's not especially secret, so I guess I can tell you." I paused. "We're planning this massive event for next week, and I have lots to do with it."

"Did that no good Suoh boy dump all the work on you?" he questioned suspiciously, narrowing his false-lashed eyes and folding his arms. "I'll bet anything that he did - and don't you cover for him just because he's pretty!"

"No, dad," I said, momentarily rolling my eyes skyward, "Tamaki-senpai hasn't done anything of the sort - rather, he's trying to do it all himself because he thinks he can do it the best."

"Of course he does..."

"That's why I'm planning on getting it done before him, so it gets done properly."

Dad laughed and clapped his hands in his usual girlish manner.

"So, what is this big event?" he carried on, pressing for more juicy details - I keep telling him he should work for a gossip magazine, but he says he's not interested in fickle things like tittle-tattle and scandals; that was a lie if I ever did see one.

"It's the May Day Festival."

"Oh, how exciting!"

"And this year we're going to make it a school dance - you know, a ball."

At this his face lit up with such a euphoric burst of enthusiasm it almost rivalled that of Tamaki's. He grabbed my hands like an excitable schoolgirl and bounced up and down on the bed, to the point where I wondered whether the bedsprings might snap.

"You're going, aren't you!?" he asked animatedly, and for a moment I'm bewildered.

"Yes, of course I'm - "

"I have the most perfect dress for you!" he cried, leaping from the bed and dragging me out of the room and across the hall. I don't often go into dad's room, less and less frequently as the years increase from the day mom passed away. I don't really have reason to go in. Besides, it feels like an invasion - this room was half his and half hers. I'm not a part of it. It was for them, and for them only.

Dad let go of my hand and throws open the wardrobe, riffling through the numerous ruffles and black leather (of which there are far too many items) until he found a plain white dress with red roses stitched into the hems, and a white ribbon lacing the waistline. It's simple but sweet.

He put the hanger over my head so he can see where the dress would fall on me. It went down to midway between my knees and my ankles. I didn't say anything, knowing that there wasn't any universe in which I would be able to wear this to the dance - I would be going as a Host, after all. But the way dad looked at the dress, and the way he looked at me... it broke my heart. There was sadness behind the paternal glow in his eyes. He sighed, clasping his hands together.

"You look just like your mother," he said quietly, and I opened my mouth to reply. I couldn't say anything, so I closed it again and turned my head down. Neither of us spoke for a while, before dad stroked my cheek lightly. I looked up. Then he sniffed the air, and suddenly looked more alert. "I'm burning the chicken!" he screeched, and with that he tore from the room. I stared after the door, hearing him swearing under his breath, but then I looked round to the floor length mirror in the door of the wardrobe. I lifted up a hand and touched my reflection.

I did look like her.

I clenched my fist against the glass, and turned my eyes downward. For a moment I didn't move. Then I reached up and carefully lifted the dress over my head, slotting it back on the clothes rack and shutting the door. I turned to leave, but saw the state of his bed. Honestly, was it rocket science to fix up a blanket once in a while? I picked it up and shook it out, about to lay it back down and straighten it when I heard a sort of clatter. I crawled on top of the mattress and looked over the other side.

A CD case had fallen off. I reached down and picked it up. It was one of mom's. I know because the woman on the front is Western (American, I think). I remembered mom had an obsessed with Western music, especially jazz. My English isn't the best, but I could read the name of the singer - Anita Marie.

I opened it up to see if the CD itself is damaged, but it's fine. I looked around for a place to put it, but there wasn't really anywhere - dad was much more disorganised than me, and his assortment of make-up and wigs littered every surface. Deciding the CD would be generally much safer with me, I returned to my room across the hall. I sat down on the bed and put it on my bedside table. I was about to return to looking for my notepad when I heard my phone go off with a text alert.

I got up again and went over to my blazer on the back of the door, stuffing my hand in the right pocket and pulling out the bright red phone the twins had given me. I flipped up the screen as I walked back to the bed, crossing my legs and leaning back against the wall.

~1 NEW MESSAGE~

from: Mori-senpai :-)

I smiled a little, wondering why he was texting me. Not that I was complaining, or that we didn't text often, but I knew that he had kendo practice on Monday nights. Shrugging, I pressed the button to open it.

'17:38 from Mori-senpai :-)

Hello, Haruhi

I just spoke to Misaki from the photography club, and they are set to help us with the fair. Hope this helps.'

For a moment I was so pleased I didn't know what to say in return.

'17:39 from [ME]

Thank you so much :)

But aren't you supposed to be in the middle of kendo right now?'

He replied almost immediately.

'17:39 from Mori-senpai :-)

I figured this was more important.'