The Maxims of the Rich
Ten lessons and rules one should know about Ouran Academy...
A/N: The end of this was a bit rushed, sorry. Anyways, please enjoy! Feedback is loved.
All characters © Hatori Bisco
Lesson 4: Tamaki's definition of privacy is slightly different than everyone else's.
.
"Haruhi, please tell us where you obtained this coffee from, so that our customers will know which company to sue if they contract any sort if illness following consumption."
Freshman Fujioka Haruhi, aka "The Commoner," threw a flat brown glare at her upperclassman. "It's from a place called 'Starbucks,' Kyouya-senpai," she said between her teeth. His dark eyes remained blank and uncomprehending behind his oval specs, silence implying that she should elaborate.
"It's a coffee place," Haruhi continued, restraining with all her might from throwing the words 'damn rich bastards' anywhere in that sentence. "Regular people go there to socialize and drink caffeinated beverages."
Pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his sharp nose, Kyouya smiled coyly. "And by 'regular' people do you mean those with a pathetic dearth of finances?"
"…"
"Just drink the coffee, Kyouya-senpai."
As it turned out, the club's vice-president did not end up drinking the coffee. However, that's not to say that it wasn't consumed…
"GOOD AFTERNOON, MY WIFE!"
Kyouya extracted his index finger tentatively from the inside of his ear. "What is it, Tamaki?" Said host pouted childishly.
"Must I have a reason for imposing upon my best friend?" he asked, cerulean eyes wide and naïve. "I'm merely inquiring where this splendid beverage has come from," Tamaki added, leaning in close and holding up an empty cup on a saucer delicately with two fingers.
Trying to ignore the uncomfortable proximity of his classmate, Kyouya replied, "Ask Haruhi; she was the one who bought it. Now, could you please remove yourself from my desk so that I can finish totaling these payments?" Although his tone was one of annoyance, the Shadow King's words were only half-serious. This was Tamaki, after all.
Tamaki seemed to deliberate, biting his lower lip and shifting his eyes around the third music room. "By the way, okaasan, where is our daughter?"
"In back, I believe," was Kyouya's answer as he nodded in the direction of the other room. With a little "tehee" Tamaki had zoomed off to question the unfortunate girl about the coffee that had so intoxicated his system with caffeinated goodness.
"Haruhi? Oi, Haruhiiii?" Tamaki looked to his left and right, hand cupped against the side of his mouth as he called.
"I'll be right out, senpai," a muffled voice replied from behind one of the changing curtains.
"But daughter, I must know now where you bought this splendid coffee from!" The King of Hosts protested. He followed the sound of her voice, stopping at one of the booths and swinging open the curtain. Haruhi made a little "ulp" sound in the back of her throat and clutched her blouse to her torso as the open curtain exposed her. Tamaki felt a fleeting sense of déjà vu as his ears began to turn red.
She was clad in a small, black bra, its dark hue juxtaposed against the creamy paleness of her revealed skin. Her pants were on, but unlike last time she was facing him. With a sudden clarity Tamaki realized that he could see the tiny swell of her small breasts and the way her collarbones protruded softly from her chest.
Unfortunately he could only stand there, captivated and gaping like a fangirl watching her favorite actor on television. And unfortunately, Haruhi was the first one to take action.
"What was that, Takashi?" senior Haninozuka Mitsukuni asked his older cousin, swallowing a mouthful of tart and gazing up with inquisitive eyes.
"Mn," Mori shrugged. He was also curious as to what that loud crash that sounded a minute ago was.
"Ne, do you think—"
"Senpai! Haven't you ever heard of a thing called privacy?"
Honey and Mori exchanged glances.
"But Haruhi! I didn't know that you were changing, and—"
"THAT'S WHY PEOPLE NORMALLY GO INTO A CHANGING ROOM!"
Kyouya used the hand that pushed up his glasses to discreetly hide a smile and coughed to hide his laughter.
Haruhi stormed out of the back room then, buttoning the last few buttons on her blouse and looking very irked.
"Thank god it's the weekend," she fumed aloud as Tamaki followed her guiltily. "I can finally get away from you people for two whole days!"
"She's so cute when she's mad," Hikaru whispered to his younger twin, who nodded silently.
Haruhi slung her bookbag over her shoulder, ready to leave now that the club activities were over. "Honestly, Tamaki-senpai," she said in a calmer tone, "Sometimes I wish you respected peoples' boundaries a little more." With that said she stormed out, the silence in her wake almost deafening to the ear.
"I…I didn't mean to…" Tamaki mumbled, looking at the floor. "Na, okaasan," he said to Kyouya mournfully. "Haruhi got mad at me."
"And what would you like me to do about that?"
Tamaki took the question literally and fell into silence for a moment, curling a white-blonde lock of hair around his finger. After a moment his eyes lit up like spotlights and his finger left his hair to point up ebulliently.
"I have it!" the host king cried, startling everyone in the vicinity. "I'll make it up to Haruhi!" The others looked at him with puzzled expressions, sensing the formulation of an elaborate plan. Tamaki thought for another minute, then began to speak.
"Honey-senpai, I'll need you to tell me…"
"Hikaru, Kaoru, what was the name of that…"
"Kyouya, what time does…"
The Next Day..
Haruhi shut her eyes and sprawled out like a cat on her bed, sinking into the ragged but pleasantly-soft covers. A book was curled under one arm and fluffy white slippers covered her feet. Stretching on her back and running a hand through her clean-washed hair, the freshman sighed. She could not even remember the last time she had enjoyed a quiet, peaceful Saturday. No homework, no chores, and no Host Club.
"Haruhi dear, would you like a sandwich?" her father called from the other room.
"That'd be great, Dad!" she answered, smiling contently. The sun was high in the sky, and the afternoon glow illuminated her bedroom with just the right amount of light to read. Haruhi loved fiction, and opened her copy of The Sword in the Stone to the page that she had left off on.
After a short while, Ranka's voice cut into Haruhi's world of owls and wizards. "Oiya? Look who it is!"
Haruhi began to get that sinking feeling in her stomach, similar to the feeling one gets when they know that impending doom is approaching.
"Haruhiii! Pretty boy's here to see you!" Ranka called, the humor evident in his tone.
"Tell him I'm not here!" Haruhi protested, moaning and burying her head in her pillow in hopes that it would cause the visitor to magically vanish.
"Too late," Ranka muttered as a yellow comet whizzed past him. Mr. Fujioka allowed himself a grin and fanned out his sleek hair prettily. That was one boy after his own heart.
"Can't I ever spend one weekend without seeing you?" Haruhi grumbled as Tamaki popped into her room. She saw he was wearing a dark green sweater and soft brown slacks which complimented the shade of his hair rather nicely.
"Of course not, Haruhi," Tamaki replied, strolling gallantly into the bedroom and surveying the living space. "You are our family, after all. Hmm, no matter how many times I see this house its sheer smallness never ceases to amaze me…" Haruhi felt a vein throb in her temple.
"I don't mean to be rude, Tamaki-senpai, but don't you have something better to do?"
He smiled eagerly, holding out his hand. "If I didn't I wouldn't be here, now would I?" Haruhi once more felt herself silently cursing the rich. Honestly, they had an annoyingly copious amount of free time on their hands.
"I came to apologize for intruding on my precious daughter the other day," Tamaki began, brushing a piece of lint off of his jade sweater absently. "And as consolation, I would like to take you out somewhere, Haruhi."
The freshman heaved a sigh. "Why not, senpai? You've already invaded my privacy enough already for one week," she said flatly. His face lit up as she rose, grabbing her jacket and leaving The Sword in the Stone lying lonesome on her bed.
Her left eyelid began to twitch, once, twice. "Senpai, is this another one of your commoners' obsessions?"
They were standing outside a dimly-lit shop with transparent glass doors, Tamaki gazing keenly at the green letters painted across the door that read Starbucks.
"Haruhi, I've never been here before," the Host King stated with a kind of hushed awe. "But I was informed that you got yesterday's coffee from here."
Haruhi tilted her head, brown bangs brushing into her eyes. "That's right."
"I'll admit that this was a collaborative effort," Tamaki added. "The club told me where this place was and when it opened and such." He abruptly gave her the koinu no meno, clasping his hands together in an oddly old-fashioned gesture. His tone became enthusiastic.
"Can we buy some coffee, Haruhi? Oh can we? Please?" Even she softened at those puppy eyes, and knew that if Tamaki wanted something, he would get his way. She exhaled again, shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Fine."
"Oh, thank you!" Tamaki's eyes began to well up with joy as they pushed open the doors. "This is wonderful!"
"Excuse me sir, but we have a lot of customers today," a young, apron-clad barista said edgily to the pair as they stood behind the cash register.
Haruhi elbowed her companion and hissed, "Decide already, senpai!"
"But I don't know what to get!" Tamaki had been deliberating on which beverage to purchase for a solid five minutes. The line behind them was almost to the door now.
"We'll take two caramel frappuccinos," Haruhi said loudly, pushing some yen across the counter to a relieved-looking barista.
"Leave it to you to draw attention to yourself wherever you go, Tamaki-senpai," she sighed as they waited by the counter. He chuckled quietly as she went over to get some cupholders and plastic straws.
"I thought you ordered two frappuccinos, Haruhi," Tamaki said after a minute in a curious tone. Haruhi turned around with the straws in her hand, frowning.
"I did order two. Why do you ask?"
Tamaki gestured to the counter. "They only gave us one." Sure enough, a lone beverage sat there, beads of water rolling coolly down its sides. A groan escaped Haruhi's lips.
An indignant look crossed Tamaki's features, and he declared, "How dare they fault our order like that? Here, you take this one Haruhi, while I go complain to these commoners for their blunder."
"No senpai," Haruhi answered flatly. "It's not worth waiting again on that line that you created. Besides, I can come here anytime, so you have this one." She held out the drink.
"My daughter is so nice!" Tamaki gushed, cheeks rosy with admiration. "Let's sit down somewhere. It's a miracle this place can afford velvet couches."
Once seated comfortably by the window, Tamaki pushed the drink toward Haruhi. "Here," he said softly. "You should have it."
She blinked in surprise. "But I thought you wanted to try a frappuccino."
"I do," he said smiling. Deep blue eyes crinkled up boyishly at the sides. "However, I owe you one. So here, drink."
"Senpai…"
Haruhi took a sip, then passed it to Tamaki. "Let's share," she said. His smile grew wider.
"Oh, that's so cute, Haruhiiii—"
"—but only if you stop saying disgusting things."
The host took a sip of the frappuccino and his eyes sparkled jubilantly. "This commoner's drink is amazing…" he murmured after swallowing. "Um, Haruhi?" he asked, twiddling his index fingers bashfully.
"What is it, senpai?"
"Can I have another sip?"
Haruhi looked surprised for moment before a winsome smile bloomed on her face. She nodded and watched as he drank happily like a Siamese with a ball of catnip, thinking to herself that she shouldn't be annoyed at Tamaki-senpai any longer. It was just his personality that made him sometimes forget peoples' boundaries; he couldn't help it. Tamaki would always be Tamaki, even if that meant invading her privacy on occasion.
And, being a friend meant that she had to accept that, changing room and all. Haruhi realized, watching Tamaki, that the rest of the Host Club was probably well aware of this fact. Of course they would know Tamaki's personality better than she would…
"Why are you making such a sad face, my daughter?" Tamaki asked. He held out the frappuccino. "Did you not get enough of this delicious coffee?"
"No, that's not it," Haruhi answered distantly, taking the drink and slowly sipping from it. It was cool and sweet.
"I've just realized that I don't know Tamaki-senpai as well as everyone else does." He cocked his head, not really understanding her words but smiling brightly.
"I can change that if you want, Haruhi," he crooned host-mode style, leaning in, his smile turning playfully seductive.
"In your dreams, senpai."
End.
I know I digressed a little bit (I really wanted to write the coffee scene, though). It still focuses on the privacy a little, though.