Chapter Seven
A/N: In previous chapters, I used the English translation "lord" instead of "tono" for the twins' petname for Tamaki. I've decided to revert back to "tono," because I think it's more fun and I like the way it sounds.
"Oy," Tamaki whispered, "Haruhi, come here."
She looked at him warily from across the table. "Why?"
He looked hurt. "No reason in particular; I just want the pleasure of your company—some engaging conversation."
"Why do you look so suspicious, then?" she asked. He stifled a groan.
"Mmgh, why is everyone in this club so uncooperative?" he lamented, shooting a glare in Kyouya's direction; the other boy just continued typing away, paying him absolutely no attention. Haruhi sighed and moved around to sit next to Tamaki on the sofa, making sure to keep a good foot between them. He looked pointedly down at the space.
"I don't bite."
"No. But I do," she said meaningfully. He blanched.
"Fine." He pouted for just a moment before moving on. "Haruhi, you're friends with Miho-hime, right?"
Haruhi rolled her eyes at his extravagant forms of address. "Yes."
"I wonder, does she ever talk about the Host Club? Discuss any of its members with you, maybe?" Tamaki asked, his eyes gleaming alarmingly. Haruhi scooted back another inch.
"No, she doesn't talk about you," she said bluntly. Tamaki shook his head.
"No, no, that's not what I—" he stopped, leaping to his feet. "What do you mean, she doesn't talk about me? Why not? Am I not a nice person? Doesn't she like me? I thought—"
"Tono, why are you getting so excited?" Hikaru asked, leaning over the couch, his amber eyes glinting. Tamaki froze in mid-panic, darting a glance over to see if Kyouya was listening. He didn't appear to be…but Tamaki knew that the Shadow King was very tricky.
"Ah, I'm not," Tamaki said lamely, sitting back down again. "I just wondered if she talked about us, that's all. Looking for new customers, and all that."
"Oh?" Haruhi said, curious. "It's not like senpai to be worrying about the mechanics of the club."
"Yeah, that's what Mother's here for," Hikaru grinned. "Speaking of which, Kyouya-senpai's the one Miho prefers, you know."
"She does?!" Tamaki exclaimed, jumping up again—this time almost upsetting the table. "How do you know?"
"Well, the one time she did come to the Club, she spent all her time with Kyouya-senpai," Haruhi remembered. "So I guess it would seem that way."
"Oh." Tamaki sprawled back onto the couch, disappointed. Kyouya had already explained that; it was hardly romantic, just something about an eye for an eye. He rolled his own eyes. Neither of them had a romantic bone in their bodies. It was absurd. How was he supposed to work with this?
Haruhi looked at the older boy closely. "Tamaki-senpai, do you like Miho?"
He blinked at her, surprised. "Of course I do."
Haruhi froze. "Oh. I see."
Hikaru narrowed his eyes. "Tono," he began, but Tamaki was shaking his head.
"Is there a reason why I shouldn't?" he asked, puzzled. Haruhi stared at him, and after a moment, Hikaru snickered, ducking behind the couch. Tamaki blinked again. "I don't understand. Is something wrong?"
Haruhi stood up, obviously annoyed. "Never mind," she said, walking away. Tamaki stared after her.
"What? Haruhi? Oy, come back! What did Daddy do?"
"Daddy should try to fix his own problems before he tries to tackle someone else's," Kyouya said sweetly, somehow suddenly standing behind Tamaki. The blond boy jumped.
"Gah! Kyouya!" he protested. He looked after Haruhi again, who was sitting near the window, pointedly looking away, her shoulders stiff and straight. He let out an explosive sigh. "Kyouya, this is your fault! If you hadn't made me promise to keep your stupid secret—"
"Secret?" Five pairs of eyes instantly swiveled over to the pair of juniors.
"Kyouya-senpai has a secret?" Haruhi asked, forgetting her irritation in her curiosity. Honey bounced around with Usa-chan.
"Kyou-chan has many secrets," he said wisely, with a knowing smile, as he twirled around the room. Mori watched him in silence.
"Yes, fine, but which one is this?" the twins asked, looking at Kyouya. He looked back at them all with his usual placid smile.
"I'm getting married."
They stared at him, and then the twins burst out laughing; Honey beamed and turned back to his cake, setting Usa-chan in the privileged place next to him, between him and Takashi. Haruhi rolled her eyes and opened her textbook, grumbling about their ridiculous antics and the waste of time that was the Host Club. Tamaki stared at his friend helplessly. Kyouya smiled.
"Stick to solving your own affairs, Tamaki," Kyouya repeated. "Mother knows best."
Tamaki, however, was not giving up. Later, when the Host Club was open for business and customers were taking up the attention of the other hosts, he snuck up next to Haruhi again.
"Haruhi."
She jumped. "Senpai! Jeez, what is it? Stop skulking around like that."
"Sorry," he said sorrowfully. Then he straightened. He was on a mission!
"Haruhi, you said that Miho-hime knows you're a girl, right?"
She nodded. "Yeah, why? She's not going to tell anyone, senpai. Don't freak out or anything."
He huffed. "I am not going to freak out—I don't freak out, do I?" He looked around for someone to appeal to, before remembering that they were all busy—and he was, after all, trying to be stealthy here. Right.
"Never mind that. I trust Miho-hime. What I want to know is, knowing you're a girl and in the Host Club, and that you spend so much time with all of these boys—" he stopped, only now realizing it, but before he could lapse into another tirade Haruhi stepped in to hurry him along.
"Yes? What of it?"
"She never acts…jealous? Concerned? Worried, perhaps?" he asked eagerly. Haruhi snorted.
"Don't get ahead of yourself, senpai," she told him. "Besides, Hikaru was right. I think she does like Kyouya-senpai better than you." To her surprise, though, Tamaki didn't fall into instant chagrin.
"Good, good," he said, rubbing his hands together, his eyes taking on a weird cast. She peered up at him, getting concerned now.
"Senpai…are you feeling all right?"
He blinked. "What? Oh yes, I'm fine. Perfectly dandy. Heh, heh, heh." He smirked.
"Haruhi. Come here, please," Kyouya called. She glanced over and nodded.
"Hai. Coming," she said, giving only one more bemused look at Tamaki before hurrying away to Kyouya. "You needed something?"
"Your customers have just arrived," Kyouya said, gesturing toward the door. "But more importantly, don't spend too much time with him. It's bad for your health." He shifted his glasses higher with one finger. Haruhi stifled a giggle.
"Thank you, Kyouya-senpai," she said, heading for her customers. He only smiled after her. Then he glanced over at Tamaki, who was still hunched over in the corner, rubbing his hands together and muttering excitedly to himself. Kyouya rolled his eyes. That idiot.
"Mori-senpai," he said, addressing the older, silent boy, "would you and Honey-senpai mind taking over Tamaki's customers today? It doesn't seem like he's going to be able to do it."
Mori nodded, just once.
"Is something wrong with Tama-chan?" Honey asked anxiously, craning his neck over the chair to look at Tamaki. "He looks a bit strange today, no?"
"He's ill," Kyouya said calmly. "I'm going to arrange for him to be sent home." His cell phone was already out, his long fingers slipping deftly over the familiar buttons.
"Really? Tama-chan is sick? But he doesn't exactly look sick, does he?" Honey looked up at his cousin, who shrugged.
Kyouya only smiled. Then, as if on cue, the elusive twin doors in the back of the room appeared, and both of them slammed open at once, making a terrible sound. Everyone in the room turned to look as a huge shadow poured out of the open doorway; an ominous, menacing laughter boomed in the background.
"Suou Tamaki…Suou Tamaki…someone is haunting you…" soft voice whispered, threading easily through the sudden silence. Tamaki's face had gone deathly pale; he froze, his violet eyes huge.
"Wh…what…what?!" he cried, backing away as the shadow slunk closer.
"Suou Tamaki…Suou Tamaki…"
"Ahhh!!" The girls in the room ran screaming for the door; Tamaki stood, motionless, his face completely drained of color—or any trace of sentience. At that moment, three professional looking men in suits and sunglasses stepped into the room. The shadow vanished; the double doors of the Black Magic Club snapped back into the wall, leaving no trace of their existence. The hosts stared.
"Kyouya-san?" Aijima said, looking at his young master.
"As you can see, he needs to be taken home right away," Kyouya said mildly, gesturing toward his friend, who was still shaking. "He's very ill. Shaking." He shook his head in sympathy. Honey and Mori, however, were looking at Kyouya.
"T-t-terrifying," Honey whispered, clutching Usa-chan tightly.
"Mmm," Mori said.