'Allo! It's been AGES since I last wrote a story. Sticking to one-shots for a while. I do intend to finish off the other stories of mine, as well as the other Furuba one-shot song-fics, but I go through phases, so I shall rid them from my brain!
Note: I love Ouran, watching it on YouTube, and have seen a few episodes (out of order, though!) and own manga books 2,3,5,6 and 7. Go me. On with the fic!
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A change of priorities
Renge. It was all her fault that Haruhi had even begun pondering these absurd notions. Perhaps her mind was dwindling on them to humour the whims from the corners of her mind that she, the practical, logical, apathetic girl, or boy, as it would appear, did not particularly care to make a focal point often. No, at all. Never. Not much, really.
However, due to Renge's otaku-esque obsession with relationships and 'character types', and Haruhi being the only other girl to "understand a girls romantic sensitivity" as she had put it, Renge had spent the last three hours being asking rhetorical questions by the reality-challenged girl. All about romance, love-triangles, love-squares, and various other love-shapes, including a few irregular ones that she dare not ask about, or the sun would have sunk by the end of her 'explanation'.
However, one of her questions had gotten her analytical mind turning it's metaphorical gears turning. Such a silly question, when she had studying to do, but it kept violently shoving it's way through the other more relevant and important matters to claim it's place in 'Haruhi's Most Preoccupying Question of the Day'.
Damn Renge.
The question itself was simple, and the eccentric French girl had shared her views very thoroughly. It required focus on the Host Club members, something Haruhi tried to do as little as possible for fear of going insane if she even tried to comprehend the inner workings of their different, yet equally disturbed minds. The question, however, spurred her on to venture into unknown territories.
"What kind of love type do you think they have?"
This was that infuriatingly niggling query that had her staring out the window of the Third Music Room, contemplating her fellow companions.
First, there was Tamaki. Loud, and often quite the drama king, yet the words he weaved to their patrons suggested he believed in actual romance. The old-fashioned type, where the man courted the woman, never did anything improper or untoward the lady, always respectful. Very… noble. His imagery of the world, waxing poetic, seeing and truly believing there is beauty and marvels in the world, in the simple things. Even things he is just out of reach of comprehending. His love, one rarely seen in the modern world.
Pure.
Kyoya. Ever watchful and dictating from the shadows. A demon with means of getting what he wants, so long as profit is foreseeable. To focus upon one, which he cared about, ever watching through those glasses. Those barriers that protect what is his, and rebounds any attack. Ones that he would control all aspects through, manipulating that one back into his sight, into his arms. Into his barriers. Where no other would be able. Prosecution awaits those who try.
Possessive.
Mori. The spear, sharp, commanding, strong. The rock, silent and somewhat foreboding, yet gentle to those he sees as vulnerable, needing strength. No kind words, in fact, rarely any words at all. Movement and action must be seen, must be understood and acknowledged to see it. In his obedience, in his steadfast loyalty to his cousin, a loyalty that if gained, could not be severed by ignorance, demand, foolhardiness, or any of these problems. The loyalty and safety from the strong boy was hard to break. It would take a sharp blow to him. Sharp. Like a spear.
ProtectiveThe twins. Hikaru and Kaoru. Switching, changing, evermore confusing other that gravitate towards their 'stimulating symmetry'. Within their own world of selfishness and self-gratification, letting no one enter, but teasing with glimpses and tastes of what wonders lied within. She had gotten a few invitations, but was not sure what kind of party would lie there. Two, the same, yet differences are to be seen to the attentive eye. One more sensible, one more evil. A balanced team. But then again, they are always changing, their world, their places. Their flirtation. But which is which?
Playful.
Hunny. A young, fresh faced, cute boy. A man, in fact. His love, despite appearances, appearances that he, quite deliberately projects to the world, would be sweet. Fun would be the normal, the joy of elation, the kind you feel when you eat chocolate. A warm, blanket-like sensation, of youth, spring, freshness of innocence. Or, so it appears. But, on occasion, without preamble, traces of manipulation can be seen. Making the most of his physical features to bring opportunity close, or to push trouble away. Who can tell what kind of heart beats inside that man of small stature.
Peculiar.
These boys, so protected in their world of money, power, seemingly without worry. What kind of girl would fit with them?
As Haruhi thought mulled over these things, she began to reflect on herself. What was she? Often called insensitive, studious, and commoner. How did others perceive her? How did the other members think of her? When did she start caring?
Since she gained… friends. Her privacy was gone. Her independence was slowly being sapped away by these persistent, strange men. Turning her mind from important issues to irrelevant trivial matters.
Their faces, fading in and out of her mind, brought on by their voices echoing from within the Third Music Room, where girls poured in and out, seeking attention and frivolous company.
However, who was she to judge what was trivial in this secluded, separate world of this school, of this room?
When she, herself could not decide what was trivial in her own mind. Maybe, it was not that her mind had changed from important to irrelevant. Maybe, just maybe, what was important to her… was changing. Or already had, unbeknownst to her.
Well, she had been called oblivious, too.
A particularly loud noise from their 'King' had pulled Haruhi out of her reverie. After a short assessment of the area to make sure that no one had been killed (well, in this place, anything was possible), Haruhi turned to the window, her tea cold and un-drinkable. The sun was setting.
Well, what do you know?
The sun had sunk, and it was because of Renge.
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Well, there we go. It's me first attempt at Ouran, I hope it was in character!
Well , please to be reviewing!
Disclaimer: I don't own Ouran. Glad to, because I can't decide who I want Haruhi to be with! I bet I am not the only one with this problem right girls? (and boys. Hey, its all cool with me. Anime is anime!).
Bye!
Gemagi-chan.
PS I did the title last, sorry if it's crap!
