Author's Notes: Thanks to those who reviewed this unusual story for an unusual pairing. It's not easy writing for a non-mainstream couple, but that only makes the feedback that much more encouraging. Thank you. Once more, Ouran Host Club does not belong to me.
Umehito Nekozawa and Houshakuji Renge: Ten Encounters
v.
"Nekozawa-semapi, what sort of hobbies do you have?"
"I uh, enjoy classical music and taking long walks at night…"
Renge observed the proceedings from a short distance away, hiding herself behind a corner. Today was the day that Nekozawa made his debut as a full-fledged host. Things had gone off to a good start; when the club opened for business that afternoon, the young ladies noticed and immediately began to inquire after "the other tall handsome blonde."
Oh, the looks on their faces when she told them.
She caught her breath when Nekozawa came close to uttering a black-listed word, then heaved a sigh of relief when he recovered. It was like a mother watching her nervous child perform on stage for the first time in his life, and she remembered how they had rehearsed together, practicing his lines and perfecting his character; it was a mixed feeling of hope and anxiety.
The analogy was incomplete however, because in the place of parental pride was an inexplicable sense of gloom, for up until now Nekozawa-sempai's true form had been the best-kept secret in Ouran High, the witness of which was a privilege exclusive to her and the rest of the host club. Now, as she watched him win the favor of his first patrons ever, recollections of the past weeks in which she had been the only person he felt comfortable talking with returned with nostalgia and a trace of loneliness.
… But that's ridiculous; did I not help him so that he could become more sociable?
Fate intervened at that moment, and her confused thoughts were mercifully interrupted by the arrival of Kirimi, whose lips began to quiver as soon as she saw the number of girls surrounding her prince-like onii-chama. A bawling was avoided when Nekozawa quickly scooped her into his arms and sat her in his lap, where Kirimi's tears quickly turned into smiles as she clung possessively to her brother, who apologized shyly for the interruption and inconvenience to his patrons.
But of course the girls drank it all in, their hearts melting as Nekozawa became even more desirable in their eyes. One young lady asked (a little too hopefully) whether the siblings were in fact not blood related, much to the bewilderment of Nekozawa and the slight disturbance of Renge, who knew all too well what was passing through the fan girl's mind.
"Things are working out unexpectedly well, wouldn't you say?"
Startled by the sudden appearance of Kyouya beside her, Renge crossed her arms before responding. "He's doing passably well, but still has a long way to go. I will continue to work with him."
The Shadow King was famous for being uncannily observant, and the few extra seconds that Kyouya's gaze lingered on her made Renge feel as if she had been caught hiding something. "… I see. Well, do as you like then."
vi.
It started with Kyouya mentioning that he had heard of a commoner tradition called the natsu matsuri, or summer festival, a carnival-like event that the less than grossly-wealthy attended for an evening of food, games, and fun. It didn't take long for Tamaki to become convinced that to not attend a quintessential commoner event like a matsuri would be contrary to the club's egalitarian spirit, and that the host club should organize an outing to one as soon as possible.
So off they went one night, the hosts and their entourage, after a late afternoon shower had cooled down the air considerably, to a close by temple twenty minutes away by foot. There was much merriment: the Twins ransacked the game booths, Tamaki trailed after Haruhi's yukata all night while attempting to spoil her rotten, Honey discovered the miracle called cotton candy, and Mori helped hold said cotton candy. As for Kyouya, he sampled the food and took notes, taking a break now and then to win cute things for the girls who, in addition to the novelty of wearing yukatas, were ecstatic at the opportunity to see the hosts in traditional Japanese summer wear.
As for Renge, she spent the evening tagging along and drifting from one small group to another, but never finding her niche amongst any crowd. As manager, she wasn't free to flirt with the hosts like a regular girl, and as a non-host club member, she was a side character around whom no band of admirers would gather. Unlike the boys, she wasn't missed if she were not around, because that's what the manager of a female-oriented club was; a wallflower that showed up now and then but really wasn't necessary to anyone.
So towards the end of festival, she found herself standing a little ways away from the center of light and activity, leaning back against a tree and wondering, really, why she had come in the first place.
"Renge-san!" Nekozawa came to a stop before her, slightly short of breath and a small smile on his face. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you all evening."
The third-year was dressed in a yukata dyed a beautiful tone of blue, the long flowing material complementing his lengthy stature, and Renge felt inexplicably compelled to lower her gaze before she answered. "I've been around, here and there."
"Well, everyone started to head back already, but I didn't see you anywhere so…"
"… You came to look for me?"
He nodded. "It isn't far back to school, but a girl walking alone at night is a little… so, shall we?"
She hadn't realized that it was so late already. Most of the crowd had dissipated, and some of the stands had begun takedown. She watched as he stopped to purchase a candy apple from a departing vendor, the sight of him holding the large red confection making her chuckle. "A midnight snack for later?"
"A souvenir for Kirimi." And the smile that filled his face was so warm it was infectious.
They walked slowly through the quiet streets towards the school dormitories where she lived as the sounds of the cicadas emanated from nearby trees, and Renge wondered how they appeared to bystanders, a boy and a girl, both with foreign colored hair, walking down the streets alone at night, with yukatas that shared color affinity—his blue, hers purple… a train of thought which she quashed quickly, because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't think of Nekozawa-sempai that way. He simply had no place, didn't belong, in those fantasy scenarios that she liked to entertain. He was too shy, too bizarre, and what stereotype combined the loving brother with the darkness-embracing recluse?
At that moment, a sharp pain in her feet caused her to nearly stumble, and when she knelt down she saw that the straps of her sandals—footwear she was unaccustomed to—had irritated and bitten through a bit of skin in between her toes.
"Renge-san, are you alright?" Kneeling down before her, a look of dismay appeared on Nekozawa's when he removed her sandal and saw the injury. "You've bled a little."
The way he held her foot tickled and made her feel funny inside. "I'm okay; it doesn't hurt much or anything…" But she belied her own statement when she winced while trying to slip the sandal back on.
The next thing she knew, he had turned and offered his back to her. She became flustered, replied that it was unnecessary, that it wasn't that far from school, that she could make it somehow and that most importantly, she hadn't been given a piggy back ride in more than ten years. But though she asked and cajoled and threatened him with the Evil Death Ray (a sunlamp) when they got back, Nekozawa only shook his head furiously and refused to get up.
Renge never knew that he could be so stubborn.
A minute later, she found herself pressed against his back, bare feet dangling and hands on his shoulders as he carried her effortlessly, the funny feeling in the pit of her stomach more intense and harder to ignore than before.
Stop it, Renge, snap out of it. Yet it was difficult to do so, especially when the tingly feeling was now mixed with a slew of others; of gratitude, of safety, of belonging and wishing that he'd walk slower so it'd all last a little longer…
"I umm… I never had a chance to thank you, Renge-san." They had entered school property, a vast garden filled with natural vegetation through which a bubbling creek ran. "If not for you, I wouldn't be where I am today, with Kirimi and the others."
"Oh, it was nothing. I was just doing my job as manager…" Liar. "I'm glad to see that you're now able to handle your share of customers now." She just kept from biting her lower lip; her last words containing so little truth she didn't believe them herself.
He laughed uneasily. "Yes, but I'm still no good, because I still have the most fun when I'm with you."
Her heart skipped a beat. Oh no.
"It's difficult hosting, since I have to act when I'm with everyone else…"
Stop right there.
"But with Renge-san it's different…"
The tingles in her stomach had grown to a tremor. If you don't stop, I'll… I'll…
"Which is why I'm glad I… oh, look."
She looked over his shoulders, and all around them, countless beads of pale green light had appeared. He set her down, and for a minute or two they admired the breathtaking scene in silence until Nekozawa brought his hands before her and opened them to reveal the glowing firefly within.
"… It's beautiful, isn't it?"
And it was all she could do to nod in response, for at that moment she realized, against all her misgivings and excuses and rationalizations on why it couldn't possibly be, that she had fallen in love with the awkward and beautiful man in front of her.
