Chapter 55 - Never Underestimate a Girl
When Renge arrives at school, she's already late.
"I'll have to have a chat with Daddy about Gyoko. That driver has no sense of direction, even with a GPS." She hurries to her locker and changes her shoes. Being preoccupied, she doesn't hear the boys behind her. "Hey," says a low voice and she spins around.
"Yes, what do you want?" Renge asks, further irritated.
The three boys confronting her are the pernicious Yoburu triplets. She's made it a point to never find herself alone with any one of them, let alone more than one, yet here she is, in an empty locker area surrounded by Akio, Michio and Sachio.
"Aren't you late for class? I know I am, so I have to go. Excuse me," she says and moves forward. They tighten their semi-circle around her.
"What's your hurry?" Akio says in a wheedling voice.
"Yeah," seconds Sachio. "We hardly ever get a chance to talk to you when you're with those girlfriends of yours, so let's use this time to get better acquainted."
"Now, now," says Michio. "Don't scare the girl."
The hairs on the back of Renge's neck rise. "I apologize for my brothers' forward manners, Michio soothes as he leans in, resting his forearm on the locker above the honey blonde's head. "They just can't help themselves when they find a pretty girl like you all alone. You know how it is. Their hormones get all revved up." Renge feels an unidentified hand reach out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear and she jerks back. "Don't worry," Michio says. "I won't let them hurt you." He steps in closer and she backs into the locker, the coolness of metal seeping through her blouse and skirt.
"Excuse me, gentlemen, but what exactly do you think you're doing?" a calm voice asks just out of Renge's sight.
Akio and Sachio turn their heads and begin to back off. Michio stays put until a hand appears on his left shoulder and the voice continues, "I believe it's time 1st-Years were in class." Michio looks over his shoulder into a pair of steely gray eyes.
"What's your problem, Ichijo?" Michio asks and Renge sees her rescuer as none other than Miyabi Ichijo. He is a paragon of virtue, a scholar-athlete, a man among men even while wearing the ugly uniform of Uki-Doki Memorial: pale yellow double-breasted blazer, forest green trousers, white shirt and instead of a red neck tie, he sports a red knit scarf turned ascot. But, unlike the brazen Yoburu brats, he makes it look good. But of course; it's Miyabi.
"My problem," Miyabi says evenly, "is that the young lady doesn't seem to welcome your attentions."
"She hasn't said that."
"Yet I noticed it from a distance. However, since you seem to be oblivious to her more than subtle cues, intervention seems needed, loathe as I am to conflict of any sort."
"What?" comes the confused reply along with an equally confused expression. Miyabi's eyes narrow and with nothing more than a forty-five degree turn of his hand on Michio's shoulder and a precisely applied thumb into the soft tissue of Michio's chest, the ruffian winces.
"Fine. Forget it," Michio says, pushing Miyabi's hand away before turning on his heel to join his brothers, already climbing the stairs.
With the triplets out of sight, Renge's shoulders drop and tears appear in her eyes. Miyabi pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and offers it to her. "I'm so sorry that happened to you, my dear. Why don't I walk you to class to ensure they don't bother you again?"
"Oh, thank you, Ichigo-senpai."
"Please," the tall figure says, "Call me Miyabi."
"Yes, Miyabi."
"And as long as I'm here, why don't I carry your books?"
"You're so considerate, Miyabi."
"I was raised to be kind to all beautiful things and to think of all things as beautiful in their own way. And you, my darling, certainly fit that category."
Renge blushes and brushes away a single tear. "Thank you, Miyabi."
They reach Renge's classroom and he hands over her bookbag, saying, "It would make me feel so much better if you would allow me to escort you home from school today."
"I'm afraid I have viola lessons today."
"Ah, so you're a musician as well as a beauty. I should have guessed from the shape of your lovely hands," he says taking Renge's free hand between his own elegant two. "May I call on you some other time?"
"Well, my lesson is over at four and you can escort me home then, if you like. I mean, if you're free...Miyabi." Her eyes are filled with stars as she gazes up into the eyes of her idol. "I'm not being too forward, am I?"
"Not at all," he replies. "You're perfect, Renge."
…Renge...Renge…
The honey blonde shakes out of her reverie to hear Kimiko calling her name and nudging her from the desk beside hers.
"Houshakuji-san," their sensei is calling, "please stand up."
Renge looks around her. Merde. Her 1A classmates are eyeing her, some with humor, others with curiosity as to what she'll do next. One never knows with the unpredictable Houshakuji Renge. She should be embarrassed, but she's actually annoyed at having her Miyabi daydream interrupted.
Taking a quick look at the Mendelian problem on her tablet, she does the calculations in a matter of seconds, stands and answers, "The genotypes of the black and white may be represented as cap-B(slash)cap-B and small-b(slash)small-b, respectively. A blue chicken has the genotype cap-B(slash)small-b. Crossing two blues would produce one-quarter black, one-half blue, and one-quarter white. Crossing a blue and a black would produce one-half blue and one-half black."
"Excuse me?" Awaji-sensei says.
"That's the answer to Section C, Problem 1, but I ask you, why on earth would anyone want a blue chicken?" The class bursts into laughter.
"Hush, everyone!" sensei chides. "Yes, that is the answer to that particular problem, but that isn't what I asked."
"Oh," Renge replies and gives a slight moue. "What is it, then?"
"I wanted to know if anyone else besides the Hitachiin brothers are going to be out of country at the end of the month. Your mother runs a fashion magazine, doesn't she?"
"Oh yes," the girl replies, "with a circulation of three million worldwide, but I won't be accompanying her to New York this year. There are simply too many interesting things happening here at school that demand my presence." She pauses and turns to face the twins at the back of the classroom, seated in their usual places. "Right, guys?"
The gingers look at one another. "We don't know what you're talking about," Hikaru tosses off.
"Yeah, you might be the Host Club's manager, but Kyoya-senpai is our director and he hasn't approved anything yet."
Renge's fists rise to her hips. "You both told me this morning you were fine with everything, so you better keep your promises or else."
"Houshakuji-san, you may resume your seat!" commands sensei, but it's no use. The class is chittering amongst themselves and with only a minute to go, she sighs at her class having been hijacked once again by the outrageous girl. She leaves the room, a disgruntled look on her pinched face.
OoOoO
Houshakuji Renge has never been known to be a quiet sort of girl, an acquiescent sort of girl, nor a demure sort of girl. No. Renge is and always has been a take-charge, in-your-face, brash French-Japanese girl with big ideas and a big heart. Her mother, Simone G., is Editor-in-Chief of Mélange Magazine and heiress to the Gagnon publishing empire. Renge's father, Reynard Houshakuji, is a contractual biomechanical engineer with a reputation as one of the best in France.
An only child, Renge grew up precocious and pampered. At the age of eight, she attended a fashion show with her mother. So exciting! Afterwards, she went backstage and a yet-unknown designer spotted her as she stood on a pedestal in a simple white chemise being fitted for a child-sized version of a dress having just walked off the runway. A single spotlight shone upon her while tailors buzzed about. Renge loved the attention and looked off with a dreamy expression, a thick braid falling down her back intertwined with ribbons and flowers while she imagined herself a princess with her underlings. The result? For the next three years, Renge was the face of L'avant Enfant Couture.
She traveled extensively and had no siblings with whom to quarrel or fuss, but neither with whom to share secrets or tell stories. Her companions were adults and she quickly learned how to assert herself like one. One weekend while at home in her Paris apartment, Reynard returned from Japan with several shojo manga as souvenirs. Renge fell in love with one beautiful manga bishonen after another, wishing she could attend school in Japan just for the chance to meet such beautiful boys.
Her gig with L'avant ended when her breasts sprouted and, bored for the first time in her life, Renge fell into a funk, refusing to leave her bedroom but for school. She was enrolled in the Lycée Fénelon, but the honey blonde found her classmates dull and schoolwork duller still. Her grades were fine but weekends were spent at home drawing, reading and playing dating sim games, her favorite being Uki Doki Memorial with her uber-crush, Miyabi Ichijo, filling the lonely spaces her busy schedule used to do.
When the photo of the Ootori sons was placed in her hand, Renge couldn't believe her eyes. There he was, for real - Miyabi. Well, of course he wasn't Miyabi, but the likeness was close enough to push her out of the bedroom and onto a plane to Japan. The rest, as they say, is history.
oOoOo
With sensei gone, Renge jumps onto her chair. "That's right, boys and girls," she announces, having warmed to the topic and her place in the spotlight. "You just wait and see the new and improved Ouran Host Club in the upcoming days. Our re-launch is this Friday. I, Houshakuji Renge as Manager, have deemed it so."
"I wonder what it could be," Momoka says to Kazukiyo who shrugs, knowing that the girl he admires will speak about nothing else until the big secret is revealed. The twins, meanwhile, are uncharacteristically silent.
Selina, one of their regulars, approaches. "So, guys, what do you think of this change? Are you really a part of it?" she asks, her blue eyes bright with wonder.
"Maybe we are and maybe we aren't," Hikaru says.
"Hika," Kaoru warns, tugging at his brother's blazer sleeve. "We said we'd do this to help out, remember?"
Hikaru scratches his face and looks at his twin. "Yeah, but I was half asleep when I agreed."
"I know, but I really like breathing," comes the emphatic reply. Kaoru looks back at his Swiss classmate with a sweet smile, "Selina, how about you and I talk this afternoon without this guy over here interrupting?" He gestures with his thumb over his shoulder at Hikaru who's grousing with his back to them.
Selina giggles with a wrinkled nose and whispers, "Okay," then returns to her desk.
The smile drops from Kaoru's face as he switches back to Hikaru. Standing, he leans over to speak into his ear. "We owe this to Haruhi, remember? If she's okay, Kyoya-senpai might let us off easy."
Hikaru's face angles towards Kaoru's. "We don't even know if they'll agree to it," he says.
"No, but at least they'll know we tried to help fix what we messed up. Everything's going to come out sooner or later anyway - with them, with Tamaki-senpai - everything, so we might as well do what we can to make it work. Besides, you even admitted that you were wrong yesterday. What happened to that guy? I liked him."
Hikaru looks away again, one knee clutched to his chest, while his other foot taps the floor. Meanwhile, their sensei returns with Headmaster Hisakei in tow and everyone sits down, sits up and faces forward.
"Houshakuji-san, would you please come with me?" Hisakei says. Renge flips her hair over her shoulders and Kazukiyo assists her down from the chair.
"I'll keep your bookbag and get your assignments," Kimiko says.
"I'm sure I'll be back by lunch," Renge replies without a qualm.
As she leaves with the two adults, the class hears Hisakei say, "Chairman Suoh would like to speak with you."
oOoOo
The erupting low roar of the class is left behind as the trio heads down the hallway, but Awaji-sensei soon bids them goodbye. Renge travels with Hisakei through several buildings connected by warm underground passageways. They stop, at last, in a waiting area where two sets of double salon doors flank the desk where the Chairman's administrative assistant works. Above her, in the space between the entries hangs an immense wall tapestry of bright yellow silk framed in caramel velvet, the center upon which is emblazoned an immense circular embroidery of a stylized cobalt dragon, its arms and legs outstretched with claws reaching to encompass all. The beast dances among pink and sky blue flowers as its alert eyes look to the viewer and its snout points towards the flaming sun of wisdom. In the center of it all rests the Ouran Academy black and gold crest.
The woman at the desk rises as they approach, bowing briefly. "He's waiting for you both," she says, gesturing to the right set of double doors.
Renge has never been here but she's seen the Chairman at school functions and met him at a party hosted on behalf of Tamaki. He seemed amiable enough then. I'm sure we'll get along just fine. She waits as the headmaster, knowing his position but also his place, opens a door and allows her to pass ahead of him.
Chairman Suoh sits behind his desk. Hisakei approaches and bows deeply. As the two men speak about school issues, Renge casts a quick, but appraising eye around the suite noting the distinct European décor, complete with hand-hewn Italian desk adorned with gilded scrolls and flourishes, along with the elegant settees and tables for parent conferences and interviews, as well as the shoji screened area behind which she can not see. The walls near the Chairman's desk are filled with his multiple degrees while the photographs and awards hung alongside announce his social strata as an elite.
He certainly has connections, but so do I so it's no problem if he's annoyed with me. I can handle it.
Her eyes are then drawn to a custom-designed display cabinet dominating one wall, strategically placed opposite the entry to capture one's attention, its many shelves filled with porcelain items and figures of varying sizes and types. She stares until she hears the Chairman dismiss the headmaster.
That's odd. Odder still is Suoh Yuzuru rising and coming out from behind his desk to join her.
"Ah, Houshakuji-san, it is so nice to have a chance to speak with you." Yuzuru's voice is smooth and mid-ranged, pitched to put even the most agitated parent or student at ease. Renge bows.
"Ohayo, Chairman. I apologize if my outburst in class offended Awaji-sensei."
"Who? Oh, yes. Please don't trouble yourself about the matter. You're a passionate individual with passionate opinions. I'm certain sensei understands that. I see you've noticed my collection." He leans in. "Would you like to see it up close?"
He's invading her space, but Renge is unflustered. Like father, like son, I guess. She steps back and they stroll to one end of the long unit that is fully lit despite the room being filled with light.
"It's primarily European," says Yuzuru, "with some pieces from Great Britain, Scandanavia and the Americas. Some collectors find figurines too precious for collecting, but I think they're remarkable. Such craftsmanship! Look at this, my dear. Original Dresden. Have you ever seen anything like it?"
He gestures to the figure of a woman dressed as if to attend a fancy ball, her hair piled high on her head, her face rouged and colorful flowers scattered across her corseted bosom. The entire top half is made of smooth painted porcelain, but her skirt, oh her skirt looks like the finest lace billowing out from her waist and gathering in puffs as they cascade to the beribboned base and lacy hem that appears to flutter in some ethereal breeze.
It looks like fabric, but I know it's glass. How on earth? "Beautiful," she murmurs.
Yuzuru furthers her along. "And these are Royal Vienna urns. They're quite difficult to find. And of course there's Au Garten and Riedl and Kolmar." His pride is evident.
Renge thinks the urns ugly though she likes the images on the plates featuring powdery faced women wearing huge wigs and feathered hats. "And these," Yuzuru continues as they move on, "are my beloved beauties from the Belle Epoch, my Paris Porcelain."
"Ahh," Renge breathes, recognizing the style of pieces her own mother collects. She begins to babble, "This is Edme Samson, isn't it? And this one is Georges de Feure. You even have-" she pauses. A rather large figurine of a young, voluptuous maiden reclining on a rock jutting into the ocean while she gazes at the clouds occupies a shelf of its own.
"Vion and Baury," Yuzuru says. "I admit I find the naked female figure to be most beautiful. Do you find it objectionable?" He watches her face.
Renge considers for several moments, then presses one palm crosswise atop the other, lifting her eyes to heaven and saying in a dreamy voice, "C'est de l'art. Il est francais. C'est kif-kif."
"Évidemment!" says a voice Renge recognizes at once. Spinning in place, she sees Tamaki standing nearby. When did he get here?
"Qu'est-ce qui se passé?"
Tamaki stands next to his father, their resemblance slight, but greater when they smile. Yuzuru says, "Japanese, please, you two," and they apologize as one in said language. "Thank you. What I'm hoping, Houshakuhi-san," the man continues, "is that you can help me with a rather unique problem." Renge is taken aback but beams with pride. "May I suggest we sit down and chat?" He gestures to a nearby area and calls his assistant. As the lunch hour chimes, finger sandwiches and tea are served and the trio dines.
"And how are your studies getting along?" Yuzuru asks the honey blonde seated across from himself and Tamaki as they finish their meal, having already discussed fine porcelain, the future of Gagnon Publishing and Mélange magazine's latest issue.
"I have an A average and I'm preparing for finals." Enough with the chitchat already!
"Very good. Have you given thought to your university studies?"
"I do have a flair for management, so I'm thinking Business Administration." Could we please get to the point?
"I could see you doing that," Tamaki says. "You've done good work for the Host Club."
"Have I?" Renge's eyes light up. "So, tell me, senpai, what kind of help do you need from me?"
Tamaki quiets and he looks to his father.
"So you've guessed that my problem is Tamaki's as well," says Yuzuru. "I try to maintain an appropriate detachment from my son's activities to avoid talk of favoritism, but it seems he's come to a certain realization about himself that he feels might jeopardize the Host Club's continued operation. Mind you, it's only come to my attention very recently but," Yuzuru drops his eyes, then raises them to meet his son's, "I will support him in whatever he chooses to pursue." Tamaki gives a small, worried smile.
"Meaning?" Renge looks from the elder Suoh to the younger, eyes narrowing as she sees the emotion passing between them. Just say it…
Tamaki wets his dry lips. "The rest of the Club knows, so, Renge..."
…you're…
"I'm gay."
…gay.
"Well," she says in a soft voice, sitting back and letting the word sink into her psyche. "It's about time you admitted it."
Tamaki's eyes open wide. "Whaaat?"
She sits forward, her eyes scanning between the two Suoh men who sit in disbelief at her words. Are you kidding or what? "Let me explain," she says, picking up her tea cup and taking a sip. She sets it down, daubs her lips with a napkin and crosses her hands in her lap.
Directing her attention to Tamaki, she says, "Don't you remember when I first came to the salon? You tried to make nice and I called you a phony prince, among other things. Now you know why." Tamaki wilts in place and Renge turns to Yuzuru. "You know, I couldn't for the life of me figure out why senpai, of all people, would be running a Host Club, but all the girls seemed to adore him so I figured it was a Japanese thing."
Yuzuru's brow creases, but then he simply shakes his head.
Renge's attention returns to Tamaki. "So now I guess you're ready to really come out and you're worried how everyone will react, right?"
With a sigh, Tamaki replies, "Right."
Renge gives her two-note chortle and hunches her shoulders in gleeful anticipation. "Just leave everything to me," she says, clapping her hands together. "Your faithful and incredibly talented Host Club Manager, Houshakuji Renge, is on the job!"
Suoh Yuzuru nods. "Thank you, Houshakuji-san. Please let me know if I can assist in any way, discreetly, of course."
Tamaki looks relieved. "Yeah, thanks, Renge. And thank you for not ruining the floor of my dad's office."
"You're welcome," she chirps. This is going to be fun!
End - Chapter 55 - Never Underestimate a Girl
Never Underestimate A Girl by Vanessa Hudgens [Renge-centric]
It takes a girl to understand
Just how to win.
She knows she can.
I think it's clear
Who wears the pants.
What boy could stand a chance?
She makes it look easy,
In control completely.
She'll get the best of you every single time.
Thought by now you'd realize you should-
CHORUS
Never underestimate a girl.
Gets anything she wants.
She's never gonna stop.
(You know it. We know it.)
Never underestimate a girl.
She's always got a plan.
The world is in her hands.
She got the lipstick.
Puts it together.
Boys have it good
But girls have it better. (Watch out)
Your secretary might
End up your boss
Whether you really like it or not.
She makes it look easy,
In control completely.
She'll get the best of you every single time.
That's right. No, no, no, no. You should…
CHORUS
She might be president,
Make all the rules.
Don't try to win the game,
You're only gonna lose.
Now girls you know we got it,
Got it going on.
We've been trying to tell them all along.
Listen up guys.
Take a little sound advice.
That's right. Hey.
C'mon, now.
That's right. No, no.
You should never...
CHORUS
