Title: Fiddling While Rome Burns (4 of 20)
Author: Paola
Disclaimer: Fiddling While Rome Burns is based on characters and situations that belong to Bisco Hatori (and other production affiliates that have the right of ownership). No money is being made, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Considerations: Similarities to other stories/events/passages are purely coincidental unless otherwise cited, and beliefs and points of view found in the story do not necessarily reflect those of the author's.
Every entry is not necessarily connected to each other. There is no order in which each is written, and each entry is based on the theme displayed before the start of each story.
Author's note: I accept REQUESTS for this collection (Fiddling While Rome Burns). Just jump over to my profile and see how to request a theme.
Theme # 4: Pictures
Request-ee: volian
Rating: T
Genre: Humour
Entry summary: But also…when were pictures of us taken?
Entry title:
Lost In Translation
On Wednesday, Hikaru and Kaoru asked when pictures of them were taken. Kyoya probably heard them but chose to ignore the question in favour of selling the glossy magazines that bound pictures upon excellent pictures of the Host Club members.
Hikaru and Kaoru didn't think they'd get any answer anyway.
On Thursday, Hikaru and Kaoru played a commoner game called tag with the rest of the Host Club. The more aggressive twin was it and was currently chasing his other half. Kaoru, busy with playfully taunting Hikaru, didn't notice a lose rock on the path he was pursuing. He tripped at the same time Hikaru launched himself towards him, sending both teenagers rolling on the grassy ground, ruffled though unharmed. Kaoru was pinned beneath a grinning Hikaru as the latter declared the former it.
Hikaru and Kaoru were unaware of a little black device being stowed away as they got up and dusted themselves.
On Friday, Hikaru and Kaoru sat on the sill of one of the windows in the Third Music Room, waiting for club time to begin. Hikaru, who didn't normally indulge in sweets — except maple syrup — was finishing a plate of cake handed to him by an enthusiastic Honey-sempai. Kaoru, who didn't normally indulge in sweets — except maple syrup — was about to pop into his mouth the strawberry he had swiped off the slice of cake. Hikaru, noticing this, quickly grabbed the younger twin's wrist before taking a bite off the plump strawberry. The younger mock glared and the elder laughed.
Hikaru and Kaoru failed to notice the flash that was slightly dimmed by the bright lights of the room.
On Saturday, Hikaru and Kaoru slept in, comfortable in their huge bed and rumpled sheets…and boxers with penguin prints. The elder was lying on his stomach while the younger was half-flung across the elder's back, both sets of legs tangled and both sleepers completely dead to the world. Then their sound slumber was disturbed by the unceremonious entrance of the Host Club entourage.
Hikaru and Kaoru woke up with a start, but not before a few not-so discreet clicks went ignored as the rowdy hosts proceeded to wake the rest of the house with the level of noise they were making.
On Sunday, Hikaru and Kaoru had the whole day to themselves, and they decided to spend it monopolizing the large Hitachiin swimming pool — not that there would be anyone else competing for space. Holding hands like how they had always done in the past, they ran towards the inviting water with nothing else but wide grins and Speedo board shorts…because they weren't really fond of just Speedos…especially since they were firm believers that many would be hospitalized from excessive epistaxis — "nosebleed" in commoner's tongue — from the image alone…not to mention that they might get arrested for "indecent exposure." Unsurprisingly enough, a banana peel appeared out of nowhere, causing Hikaru to slip, and since he was holding onto Kaoru's hand, both twins were sent airborne, with the elder appearing as though he was pulling the younger towards him.
Hikaru and Kaoru broke the surface of the water without knowledge of the retractable lens disappearing from behind a convenient bush.
On Monday, Hikaru and Kaoru were running late for class, and they scrambled along endless corridors in a flurry of orange hair strands sticking out every which way and carefully pressed Ouran uniforms…and the occasional snicker as they planned on how to make an entrance worthy of their mischievous reputations. When they reached the double doors to their classroom, the one who parted his hair to the left reached out to straighten the tie of the one who parted his hair to the right, while the latter flicked an errant lock of hair away from the eyes of the former.
Hikaru and Kaoru banged open the smooth wood, unaware of a roll of film being tossed in the air and getting caught by a slim-fingered hand.
On Tuesday, Hikaru and Kaoru heard a group of giggling girls talking about how "slice one" was better than "slice fifteen," and how half of them were more visually impaired than bats since "seriously, slice fifty-five and slice one hundred thirty-seven" were the best. Hikaru and Kaoru had no idea what they were talking about, so they turned around and walked away, the elder's arm slung across the younger's shoulders. But before they could widen the distance between them and the gushing groupies, they heard the girls saying that the real thing was still more beautiful than "all the slices put together."
Hikaru and Kaoru didn't have any better clue as to what they were talking about than they had when they first stumbled upon the group.
On Wednesday, a week after they had wondered when pictures of them were being taken, Hikaru and Kaoru were almost deafened upon exiting the dressing room wearing identical leather pants and sleeveless vests — interestingly enough, they were dressed in rocker outfits that were surely inspired from a commoner's music video…no doubt a product of their King's curiosity. A large number of girls were flocking around a small circular table, choruses of "Oh my god! The newest issue!" randomly being shouted…because majority of the time, the girls were just squealing and trying not to faint.
Their own curiosity piqued, they sidled towards the table and tiptoed to get a look at what the girls were crying their throats hoarse for. There in front of them were new sets of magazines sporting the pictures of the Host Club members. Hikaru, miraculously enough, was able to pluck one of the copies displaying "Hitachiin" in big, bold letters from the table. Slinking into a quiet corner, the twins flipped page upon page of images, their jaws threatening to hit the floor with each passing picture. Turning a suspicious eye towards the Shadow King, they saw him looking at their direction while he adjusted his glasses, and the glare of the sun made him look more sinister.
"Kyoya-sempai…" the twins let out in a stream of quiet air tinged with a dash of fear and a pinch of I knew it!
As they turned the last page — dully taking note that each picture was labeled "slice #" — they got the answer to their question. Each photograph was of, they vaguely remembered, innocent activities over the week, caught at the right time and at the right angle to appear more suggestive than they really were. They sighed.
Hikaru and Kaoru, then and there, resolutely concluded that adages meant zip when it came to the Shadow King. Whoever said that a picture paints a thousand words surely hadn't considered the likes of Ootori Kyoya.
-fin-