~Chapter Nine~
My Milkshake Brings All the Boys to the Yard
Now I can breathe
And I feel grace rush over me.
It runs through my veins
And what I taste is bittersweet.
The clock is always ticking;
Bitterness grows by the minute.
Why can't we realize?
The wounds that we're inflicting
On our own flesh, it isn't healing
By keeping love inside.
~Bittersweet, by Plumb
Disclaimer: Me No Own; You No Sue.
One of my hands was gently stroking through her hair as I whispered, "I'm here, Haruhi. I'm right here."
She didn't hear me. No one ever did.
"Rain, rain… Go away," I sang softly. "Come again another day."
No one ever heard me, it was true. But I was always there, waiting in the shadows until I was needed. And I liked it that way.
Sammy's P.O.V.
Several days had passed – slowly, and with quite a few interruptions via rabid fangirl – but passed they had indeed. And the week was now officially at an end. School was over for the day, clubs had ended mere moments ago, and clusters of bananas and blueberries (my affectionate nicknames for the members of the student population) were happily loitering in the hallways. Thus, the weekend had arrived!
T.G.I.F. – Thank God, It's Friday!
I cheerfully repeated these words in my head, a mantra that soon evolved into a song. Humming the words to myself, I glanced down to the school map that I had finally procured, and followed the path to the entrance with my index finger.
One more hallway and two staircases to go! …and a herd of wild fangirls. I grimaced at this realization, remembering suddenly why I had to avoid said fangirls.
You see… Despite my best efforts to avoid the Host Club, its members had still managed to worm their way into my life, time and time again. I denied their requests to visit the Third Music Room at every turn, but they were a persistent bunch. And no matter what I did, no matter how many times I changed my preferred route to class – they were there.
Like la Cucaracha, man. Totally hardcore insects. Not even a nuclear blast could kill the little fuckers.
So – to make a long story longer – the fangirls, and the occasional fanboy, had penciled me in on the top of their Most Wanted list. There were no longer any safe havens available for me in Ouran High School, not even one of the countless libraries. I was a criminal, and it had been decided that I'd be placed on Death Row. Show no mercy to the prisoner!
Yes, yes – I know what you're thinking! But it couldn't possibly be that bad… She must be exaggerating! Yeah? Well, how's this for exaggeration, buddy?
I was constantly being tripped in the hallway, and my textbooks had been smacked out of my hands more times than I could count. My hair was still playing house with a family of spitballs! Not to mention that one brave yaoi fan even had the nerve to spit on my bologna sandwich as she passed me in the cafeteria! Hell, I thought that everyone liked Oscar Mayer bologna!
…or was it that everyone is in love with their hotdogs?
My stomach growled as this last thought processed, so I hastened my stride as I trotted down the last staircase, heading towards the front doors. Shrieks of laughter and the loud cries of swooning could be heard as the (mostly female) students discussed the members of the Host Club. Bloody hell – I hadn't even opened the doors yet!
Now, where did I leave my shotgun again? I quickly searched my bags for a makeshift weapon. Verdammt. Must have left my gun at home. Shame that the Board of Education has those laws about carrying weapons on school property…
After fisting my hands, respectively, around a sharpened pencil and a metal ruler, I made my way to the door. I would die fighting for my life, and I would die with honor: like Rurouni Kenshin! Die, Battousai!
I did not die. In fact, it was with profound pleasure that I reported my survival after I had slipped through enemy lines. And without any casualties, too! Intercepting the fist of the wonderful Ayanokoji did not count, although it did hurt tremendously. My left eye was still bruised. But then again, so was her ego; she tripped down the stairs.
...I didn't push her. Scout's honor!
Oh, yes! I should probably mention that no fangirls were hurt in the making of this reenactment of the newly released Gears of War 3. Ayanokoji was the only exception, as she was a more primitive form of fangirl, otherwise known as a stalker. Stalkers will be shot; survivors will be shot again.
Or 'tripped' down the stairs. Please insert evil grin here - 8D.
After I had successfully maneuvered through the crowds outside the entrance – and consequentially losing Ayanokoji in the crowds – I headed to the student parking lot. It was rarely used, so I had the entire lot to myself as I started the engine of my motorcycle. I slid my borrowed (please read: stolen) helmet over my hair and, to put it simply – vanished. Speed limits were for wimps!
I honked the horn as I sped down the streets of Japan. Everyone out of the way! Speed demon coming through! Yelping as I narrowly avoided an elderly pedestrian (what was the old bat doing in the middle of a busy intersection anyway – taking a nap?) and finally slowing down as I neared my destination.
Before you ask, no – I did not park in the designated handicapped space.
…I parked in the NO PARKING ANYTIME zone instead. Just because I nearly killed an old lady does not mean that I am against her rights to claim easier parking, or social security. Seriously. What kind of person do you people think I am? Don't answer that.
My musings were cut short as I crossed the street, intent upon entering the café that I'd been instructed to visit. Yes, I did indeed say instructed. Haruhi did not make suggestions or recommendations; instead, she ordered her friends to frequent her favorite places. She's such a kind, caring, and considerate girl.
I stared through the shiny window of the café with a curious expression on my face, cocking my head at the interior. It was small, but immensely popular – if the long line of customers was anything to judge it by. A soft chime! was emitted from a small bell that hung over the old, wooden door, signifying that I had entered the shop.
"Welcome to Simply Sweets!"
The cheerful welcome did wonders for my sour mood, and I found myself smiling back at the Asian girl that had spoken the words. She was much taller than I was, standing just a few inches short of six feet; perhaps 5'9". Her hair was black and it shimmered in the light. The girl was dressed in plain clothing, but the color combination was striking against her olive skin tone and amethyst eyes. Simply stated, she was very pretty.
The girl gestured for me to take a ticket and then to have a seat. I did so, grabbing a booth near the entrance and planning to partake in one of my favorite pastimes – people watching! My current target was now Miss Pretty in Punk. Or perhaps she was merely a tomboy?
I wonder… I mused, glancing at her curiously as she served the customers. A small smile and a kind word for everyone as she continued down the long line. With her mannerisms, she almost reminds me of Haruhi-chan…
"Next!" Miss Pretty in Punk called to those waiting their turn. "Next, please!"
Shrugging the thought away, I stood back up and approached the counter. I offered her my small, white ticket and she tossed it into the recycling bin behind her, not even bothering to check and see if I was truly the next customer or not. She waved a hand at a young couple that was leaving the shop before turning to take my order.
"Hello! Would you like to try one of our famous Blueberry Banana Brain Freezes? It's the special for today," she said, seemingly in one long breath.
I stared at her. What the fuck is a 'Blueberry Banana Brain Freeze,' and why is it so popular when it has such a scary name? My confusion (or horror – take your pick) must have been quite obvious because she chuckled gently at my expression.
"It's this new thing my dad and I are trying: milkshakes! I have always been fond of them, and they're quite good when served with a warm sweet or two," Miss Pretty in Punk explained.
"That's true," I hummed in agreement.
"We own this shop, by the way. Lived here about six years though, and our menu's getting kinda stale. So I recommended that my brother add a few new items to the list."
"Like the Blueberry Banana Brain Freeze," I stated, amused now that I understood the story behind such a strange name.
The girl grinned, revealing a tiny crack in one of her canines as she parroted, "Like the Blueberry Banana Brain Freeze!"
A line was beginning to form behind me, so I ordered one of the new milkshakes; this one was called the Chocolate Cardiac Arrest. And I also bought a medium sized bag of sugar cookies, complete with seasonal sprinkles. The cookies were shaped like trees, and it was early April, so I inferred that the sprinkles were supposed to be the cherry blossoms.
Cute… I thought to myself. And probably tasty, too!
"That will be…" The girl muttered a few quick numbers under her breath. "…612 yen, please."
I quickly counted out the exact change and handed her the currency. "Trouble with your cash register?" It was old and a little rusty, so it didn't come as a shock when she agreed wholeheartedly.
"Yeah. Damn thing never works right," she grumbled, smacking said piece of machinery with her fist as she did so. It beeped in protest. "And, here's your receipt. Have a nice day!"
With a smile and a wave, I reclaimed the booth at the door. I placed my loot on the tabletop and scooted down the purple cushioned seats, closer to the window. Wanted to be able to stalk everyone equally, both indoors and outdoors!
It quickly dawned on me how creepy that sounded, even in my head. Especially in my head. So I decided to play a game, picturing myself as one of the penguins from the Madagascar movie. You didn't see ANYTHING!
And…voila! Nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Please continue on with your previous activities and, remember: fish are friends, not food.
Oh, my bad. Wrong movie…
"Ah! There you are, Sammy-chan."
I had just shoved an entire cookie into my mouth, so I stayed quiet and waved at the newcomer, gesturing to the unoccupied bench on the other side of my booth.
"I'm sorry for the wait," Haruhi respectfully apologized as she gratefully took a seat. For some strange reason, her feet appeared to be bothering her. "Tamaki-senpai thought it would, er – behoove me – to learn how to dance properly."
My eyes widened and I choked on my mouthful of cherry blossom cookies. "What?"
With a sigh, Haruhi reached over the table and slapped me on the back a few times. "Honestly, Sammy-chan. You remind me so very much of my dad." Here, she sweatdropped and muttered under her breath,"…it's kind of scary, actually…"
I snorted, doing my best not suck any more sprinkles down my windpipe. "Love you too, Haruhi-chan," I quipped.
The smaller girl offered me a wry smile and said, "Good to know."
After playfully tossing the bag of cookies at her head – which she caught, damn her – I reached for my milkshake, happily slurping at the strange drink. Musing my fate. On one hand, I might later be the victim of a self-induced sugar high; on the other hand, I might go into a diabetic shock after I had finished. Either way, it would be worth it.
Unless someone had the untimely misfortune to cross me in my crazed sugar high, then it might not be so worth it. Because I would more than likely end up in jail after that encounter. Hopefully, the Twins would be nice enough to post bail before I turned old and gray.
"…Sammy-chan? Are you even listening to me?"
I blinked in surprise. "Did you say something?"
Haruhi groaned and facepalmed as she slowly repeated her words. "I said that the Host Club is hosting a dance party next week and that is the reason why I have to learn ballroom dancing!"
She set her head down on the table with an audible thump and continued grumbling to herself about the complexity of the waltz, praying to her mother in Heaven for strength. Strands of brown hair covered her eyes, and her words were dark in tone. Lips moved quickly, probably casting a curse or something – like Nekozawa Umehito.
Great guy. I thought of my unique classmate with fondness. Crazy, but a great guy nonetheless.
But I still blanched as Haruhi continued her mutterings, concerned that she had finally gone over the deep end. Not that I would be too terribly surprised; being involved with the Host Club could do that to you, I suppose.
"Would you like me to teach you?" I cautiously offered, before adding, "I had to learn when the Hitachiin family introduced me into society as their adopted daughter. It's honestly not that hard, if you have a patient teacher anyway."
"You would do that?" Haruhi asked, apparently surprised.
How rude of her to doubt my honorable intentions. The laws of friendship clearly dictated that a girl must help a friend when he or she is in need. Where did Haruhi go to school anyway – Ouran?
"Of course!" I declared with a mock salute. "Private Sammy – reporting for duty, ma'am."
She giggled at my antics, but her smile quickly fell as she admitted, "Not that it really matters anymore. The Hosts have already requested that Kasugasaki Kanako teach me the steps."
I frowned inwardly at the mention of Kasugasaki-san, remembering what had I had recently heard about the girl. Supposedly, she was fickle and flighty, with a tendency to change social circles like most girls changed bras. In other words: daily.
After my sudden and utterly pointless conviction, I understood that there was little to no truth behind the stories that the females students wove about one another. I was a victim of such nonsense, after all. So, I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, but my protective streak was very hard to deter at times…
That girl better not hurt Haruhi. I clenched my jaw in anger. Or the Twins…
"And, you know what really grates on my nerves? If I fail, I'll be demoted to trivial chores again!" she complained, eyes darkening as she spoke the depressing words.
"But… Why would those idioten demote you, Haruhi-chan?" I asked, confused. "I mean, it doesn't seem very likely that they would…"
She solemnly nodded and I felt my right eye twitch in anger. I had been made aware of the situation with the Host Club a few days ago, when Haruhi and I had spoken on the phone again. She and I hadn't been able to speak properly at school due to our differences in ages. And popularity. So we called each other every night, relating the details of our days to one another.
I had been right – the Hosts had discovered the truth about her gender. And quickly, too.
A snarl was my immediate response. "You have got to be kidding me! They would seriously expose you as a girl, in front of the entire student body? Even after they promised to keep your secret!" I was infuriated, to say the least.
Haruhi nodded again, but this time she just seemed sad. "Yes, that's what was said at our meeting today. And I believe them. Every single word."
I knew that she was referring to Steve and I unconsciously touched my throat, scratching at the invisible collar that I felt being placed around my neck. It was already tightening, as I had resolved to help the younger girl. She and I would soon be wearing a matching set of collars; expensive and embellished with diamonds. Beautiful. But we'd be trapped, with no escape in sight.
Fighting the urge to flee, I politely inquired, "Is there anything that I can do to help?"
"Actually, there is!"
I yelped, throwing myself out of the booth and away from the newcomer. His chipper voice had been completely unexpected and I was still struggling with my inner fight-or-flight dilemma. But I had been calm before his arrival; now, my heart was racing a million miles a minute. I felt like a hummingbird. A scared hummingbird.
"Haninozuka-san, what the hell are you doing here of all places?" I croaked, gasping for air as I shakily reseated myself at the table. I had been trying to avoid the Host Club, not alert them to my current whereabouts!
The short senior was seated to my right, swinging his legs back and forth under the table. How did he get in here – through the window? His dark blonde hair was ruffled – as if he'd been running – and his brown eyes were big and shiny as he eyed the large order of cakes that had mysteriously appeared before us. Innocence personified, like Bambi. But Bambi isn't a fucking ninja!
Haruhi just sighed and stated the obvious, "Well, this is a café…"
Immediately, I sweatdropped. "Right, sorry. Forgot that his sole purpose in life is to consume mass quantities of cake," I mumbled in irritation. My hand automatically reached for another cookie, but I couldn't bring myself to eat the tasty treat; it would be bittersweet now.
"This is so good!" Mitsukuni crowed.
We both blanched, our stomaching audibly protesting the sight of the young man practically inhaling his fifth chocolate cake. This particular one was decorated with dozens of small, strawberry roses and lines of chocolate thorns. Well, it had been a second ago; now it was simply gone.
After he'd finished his food, Haninozuka Mitsukuni turned to me and grinned. Clean, white teeth shone brightly, despite his horrible eating habits. I stared straight into his eyes, which were glowing like melting chocolate. Something seemed different about my normally childish classmate, but I couldn't quite put a finger on what that something was at the moment.
Until he spoke, that is.
"Well, Sammy-chan, I actually came here for another reason," Mitsukuni cheerfully admitted, then quickly explained, "I'm here to ask you for a favor!"
…fuck my life.
***Author's Note***
Sorry that this is a little later than promised! XD But I've been sick - in bed with bronchitis, no less! - and I've been swamped with homework.
Anyway, I decided to give everyone an extra long chapter this time, with almost one thousand words more than normal! Hope you guys enjoy it!
And THANK YOU ALL fo the wonderful reviews, alerts, and favorites. You made a poor, miserable, sickly girl VERY happy. :)