EDIT (8-8-18): Edited for concision and formatting

Note: In this series, the Host Club members (mainly the twins and Kyoya) enjoy taunting and teasing Haruhi; Rather than being friends, Haruhi can't stand any of them.

Chapter 2: Tough Times

"Damn it, art is a bang! Why don't people get that, hm?"

The door slammed shut as Deidara stormed into the house, his ponytail thrashing wildly behind him. Calmly and indifferently, Itachi looked up from his newspaper to watch the blond make his way toward the stairs and stomp angrily away.

"What was that? Failed sculpture again?"

The prodigy looked back at his newspaper as the man munching on an apple behind him eyed the stairs with a sharky grin.

"Presumably."

Kisame chuckled.

"Speaking of which, avoid Red Riding Hood too."

Though he received no response, Kisame intuitively sensed a sigh leaving the Uchiha's mind. Again, he chuckled before making his way back into the kitchen.

"But, Sasori-san-"

"No 'buts,' Tobi. I need you to tell me right. Now."

Tobi whimpered and looked up, only to shriek when he discovered the doll maker's face only inches from his own, an intense, unblinking stare fixed upon him. Immediately, he looked back at the floor, where dozens of skinny plastic dolls lay. Eyes still on his prey, Sasori picked up a bleach blond figurine.

"How about this one. What's wrong with her."

"N-nothing."

Sasori's eyes narrowed and he set the doll back down on the carpet. He leaned back, still sitting criss-cross-applesauce across from a highly fidgety Tobi.

"Alright, Tobi, tell me; What do you look for in a doll."

Tobi perked up.

"Oh! Pretty eyes and a smile and nice soft hair and-"

"What else? Skinny? Fat? Moveable limbs? Concealed weapons?"

Sasori was scribbling down Tobi's words verbatim with a sudden mad vigor.

"Weapons?"

Tobi laughed.

"Silly Sasori-senpai! Dollies don't have weapons! Unless you mean toy weapons like the Ninja dollies do!"

Sasori's head jerked up and again a terrifying stare was subjected upon the masked man.

"Ninja dollies?"

"Excuse me, are you hiring?"

"Oh? Well actually we- Eek!" The man screamed as he turned around. "U-um, no, no we're not, I'm s-sorry. Goodbye!"

With that he shoved Ichigo out from under his roof and fled to the back of the store.

Ichigo frowned and scratched his head.

"That's the third guy who's given me that reaction… What's up with these people?"

He glanced down at the wrinkled newspaper he was holding and crossed yet another job ad out in marker. He looked around the street. Quite a few of the businesses were aimed towards female shoppers, crossing those off his list instantly. All of the market shops he had stopped at, unfortunately including this one, refused him.

Furthermore, the one man who had taken an interest in him was immediately turned away by his short resume. When asked about his previous job he could only offer spotty details, considering the fact that he barely worked and it was one, for a crazy woman, and two, for an odd-job service. When questioned about his volunteering, he realized that no one would believe 'exorcising' as a legitimate service in which the public was desperately in need of having. Thus, Ichigo Kurosaki continued his after-school search for a job.

Continuing down the street, he noticed a sign in a store window that stuck out to him.

"DYED HAIR OK"

Instinctively, Ichigo ran his fingers through his hair. Was that why no one would hire him? They thought he was some punk kid with dyed or bleached hair? While feeling hopeful, Ichigo remembered to check what store was so accepting. His expression fell.

"SIX PATHS PIERCINGS AND TATS"

"Yeah, of course…" He mumbled as he glanced around, suddenly feeling pretty out of place.

Sure, saving both the worlds of the living and the dead was no problem. Playing goalie during the final PKs of a national game? No big. Beating up an entire armed, belligerent gang? He did it on the daily. But tats and piercings? Not exactly something he was acquainted with...

As he considered leaving, a bell rang and caught his attention. A red haired man with plenty of face piercings exited the store and picked up a box sitting in front of the window. His eyes stopped on Ichigo, who attempted not to overreact.

"Want somethin'?" Asked the man gruffly.

Before Ichigo could respond, the redhead kicked the door back open and glared at the teen. Seeing no other options and having no legitimate reasons to leave at hand, the teen ventured forward.

"Uh, thanks."

Naruto grumbled and kicked the ground as he sauntered home. School had ended over an hour ago but due to his detention and Sasuke Uchiha he was stuck out on the road.

"Ooooii! Sasuke!"

Naruto ran across the lawn and towards the parking lot where a dark blue Rolls Royce sat with its engine running. Girls were gathered shamelessly around the car, gazing and giggling at its stoic, stick-up-his-ass driver.

Said driver spared the blond a thought only when he had slammed his hands down on the door after barreling out of the school. Then, the delinquent leaned forward eagerly and began yelling in his ear.

"Oi! Didn't ya hear me? Whatever."

Naruto laughed and stopped leaning on Sasuke's car. The Uchiha stared at where the blond's hands had been and grimaced. Smudges. Naruto Uzumaki smudges.

"What do you want, Naruto?" He bitterly and disinterestedly asked.

Naruto grinned brightly.

"Hey, Sasuke, think you can give me a ride home? It's gettin' pretty late and I have a lot of stuff to do so…"

Sasuke continued to stare at the teenager from behind his designer shades. The girls around them were snickering and reprimanding Naruto.

"Narutooo! Stay away from Sasuke!"

"Ow! Sakura-chan!"

Naruto rubbed his head where Sakura had punched him.

"C'mon, Sasuke, can't you-"

"Find your own ride home, loser."

With that, Sasuke sped out of the parking lot leaving Naruto, squealing fangirls, and the smell of burning rubber behind.

"Grr… That damn Sasuke!"

The blond kicked a vending machine in his anger. Huffing, he checked his surroundings. Fortunately, he could see the skyline of his city. He inhaled deeply and then screamed.

"I'm gonna beat the shit out of Sasuke Uchiha! Dattebayo!"

Then he dashed full-speed down the sidewalk shouting.

Like Naruto, Haruhi was walking home from school after her ridiculous club meeting. Today, Tamaki insisted upon a superhero theme which Haruhi wouldn't have minded if the plan didn't involve her in a dress, skits, toy weapons, a video of them doing good works, and some far-fetched scheme about understanding common folk and their deep need to be the impossible or feel that anyone can be powerful and good-looking.

With a smile, Kyoya rejected it upon grounds of, "Lack of clientele interest."

Interestingly enough, each member heard something different out of that phrase.

"This is stupid."

"Like you'll ever see me in tights or acting like some snot-nosed brat."

"We're already powerful and good-looking, any more could be a crime. Any less, like your plan, is a French funeral for one."

"The scum of the earth will get my help when Hell freezes over."

"I'll kill you in your sleep, Tamaki."

Even so, Haruhi was thankful that she would not live through the trauma of seeing Kyoya portrayed as a just, kind, selfless person (Everyone else had that same thought. Of course, upon hearing Tamaki's suggestion, they imagined Kyoya as the villain. However, no one was stupid enough to say that to his face.). Now, she was able to walk home calmly, undisturbed, at peace, and without any rich annoyances.

"Hello, Haruhi."

The girl looked to her left and saw none other than the villain himself, sitting behind the wheel of a, possibly symbolic, red Lyonheart convertible. More than anything she was surprised he stopped. Kyoya drove himself to school out of pure pride and as a means to avoid Tamaki. He wasn't friendly and made a point to avoid those beneath him.

A.K.A., he was the reason she showed up to school thoroughly soaked in puddle water one irritating April morn.

"Hi, Kyoya. Did you need something?"

The teen continued to smile.

"No, nothing really. Just wondering what it was like."

"What what's like?"

She knew she didn't want to know, but she asked anyway.

"You know. Walking. Having to spend time and energy heading home. It must be disappointing."

"Walking?"

"Oh no, well, that too, but you know… You don't have to be so modest."

"Sorry, I don't know."

Kyoya frowned.

"Hm, I always thought you were smart, Haruhi. One of the reasons I stoop to interacting with you. You have interesting ideas."

"Thanks."

"Of course. But it really is a shame you have to manage through life living in that rat hole with a bunch of criminals."

"Only a few, and it's not a rat hole. More like a watering hole. One for hungry, teenage elephants."

Kyoya chuckled.

"Sure." He murmured. "Look at the time, I have a family meeting soon. See you around, Haruhi."

Screeching wheels warned her of the burnt tire smell that entered her lungs. Coughing, she watched Kyoya speed away.

"What the hell is up with your eyes?"

The soul reaper fought back that exclamation as he stood in the store, waiting for the man to return. The longer he was there, the more he was reminded of the Twelfth Division and their highly disturbing experiments. Sure, it looked innocent enough, no organs in canisters or bloodstains, yet Ichigo sensed something off. A strange reiatsu? No, but he had a bad feeling. Even so, he had given the man his resume. He was pretty desperate.

"Alright."

Looking up, the older man was behind the counter on Ichigo's left.

"I talked it over with my partner. You're hired. For now." He added quietly.

"Really?"

He was genuinely surprised. He was an unqualified, inexperienced high school student, after all.

"I better not be a human experiment." He thought warily.

"Yeah, one of our last workers left pretty suddenly. He was in charge of sanitation. Think you can manage that while we look for someone more suited?"

The man didn't seem too enthused about hiring the teen but Ichigo couldn't care less.

"Thank God I'm getting paid."

His mind was at peace as he closed his eyes thankfully. He opened them and looked the man in his ring-filled eyes. He flashed his hero grin.

"Definitely."

It was the end of the day.

Pain was tired from a hard day's work and was anticipating relaxing in the easy chair he had commandeered from Kakuzu. Of course, he knew far too well what reality would hold. Tiredly, he opened his front door and was met with the ear-splitting shrieks that only deranged artists could make. A glare on his face, hands over his ears, he headed in to see who took who's glitter paint or Barbie doll this time.

"You don't even know how hard I worked on it!"

"You threw it together, no wonder the gallery didn't like it. Anyway, they look for reputable, everlasting, works of art."

"Like what, this?"

On the stairs, Deidara shoved forth a small plastic doll for all to see. In the living room, Sasori's eyes narrowed.

"Where did you get that?"

Deidara smirked evilly.

"Oh, you know, Tobi."

Sasori winced and knew he should have locked the masked man in his closet rather than bribe him.

"He was running around with it and then decided to show me what 'a pretty dollie Sasori-senpai' was making."

A loud guffaw came from the kitchen. In sauntered Hidan, grinning while he threw chips in his mouth.

"Damn, Pinocchio, still makin' dolls?"

Sasori glared at him. Meanwhile, Deidara flipped his hair back triumphantly as he headed downstairs.

"Face it. True art is fleeting, instantaneous. Something so quick is impossible to catch forever. It is beautiful and elusive."

Sasori rolled his eyes as he opted to sit down on the couch in front of the TV and coffee table.

"Why should I take advice from a teenager who tries getting Play-Doh next to Picasso?"

Deidara growled.

"My art is nothing to make fun of, yeah. And I'm not a teen, but I'd rather look a little young than be a forty-year-old man who had surgery to look like he's twelve."

Cue hair flip and smug smirk from blond.

Hidan whistled and laughed, hopping the couch to sit next to Itachi.

"Goldilocks has a fucking point!"

Another glare from the redhead.

A throat clearing towards the doorway caught everyone's attention. There stood Pain, sick of their squabbling and considering putting doses of rat poison in certain people's cereal boxes.

"Leader-sama!"

"So both of you still suck at art."

Both artists cringed but bit back remarks.

"It's come to my attention that you're beginning to fall behind on your rent, Deidara."

The blond's eyes shot wide open.

"What? Well, I can catch up, hm? No big deal… I'll get some money soon..!"

Though he tried to sound reassuring, everyone could see the hesitancy in his eyes.

"Also, Sasori."

The rinnegans landed on the redhead.

"I don't mind your stupid hobby, as long as it doesn't distract you from anything else."

Sasori nodded. At that moment, Kakuzu decided to join the mob in the living room.

"What was that about Sasori's hobby?"

He raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Uh, nothing!"

Deidara held his hands up, not in the mood for hearing another one of the greedy man's lectures.

"So he's making dolls again, huh?"

No one replied. Kakuzu frowned.

"Don't waste your money. You failed at that years ago. Stick to plastic surgery."

With that oddly short remand, the older man ambled towards the door to put on his coat.

"Where's an old fucker like you go at this time of day?" Sneered Hidan.

Kakuzu glared.

"Some people die, you dumbass."

"Hey, Deidara, if you want to pay rent you could always go steal body parts from the dead with Kakuzu," Calmly offered Sasori.

"Like hell! How messed up do you think I am, hm?"

"Who said I steal body parts? A coroner autopsies a body and finds the C.O.D.- Cause of death. I do what others don't want to."

"That doesn't explain the severed leg I found in the garage freezer."

Everyone stared at Itachi. Pain shot Kakuzu a glare.

"What? That's not mine! Zetsu took it, I swear!"

"Though he's a tight-ass, that sounds legit," Added Hidan reluctantly. "He always sells what shit he steals first thing. Zetsu brings his fucking finds home."

Everyone stared at Kakuzu, suspicion still lingering.

"Well… I best be going." He grumbled, tugging his coat on all the way. "Oh and uh, don't touch that leg."

The door slammed and he was gone.

"Wait, what?"

Deidara blinked and the door reopened.

Kakuzu's head popped in.

"You… You know. Cuzza the cops and stuff… Across the street… Yeah."

Another slam and this time the money hoarder was gone for reals.

Deidara's face fell.

"Yeah, 'cuz the Uchiha Police would definitely suspect us, hm. Didn't they stalk a little girl last week?"

"Wow, Itachi. Your brother's fucked up."

Itachi merely nodded as he browsed through a magazine.

"He lacks hatred."

"He lacks many things, Itachi."

Sasori got up and headed up the stairs.

"Wait, we need to discuss progress tracking the Bijuu."

Sasori stopped and sighed.

"Later. I have a meeting with the Ootoris."

Hidan shrugged.

"Yeah, that bastard's gone so I don't have anyone to pay attention."

Pain turned to Itachi and opened his mouth.

"It would be rude to work without Kisame, Leader-sama. I must respect his presence or, rather, his lack of presence at this moment."

Pain sighed and headed towards his room to go over what else they weren't accomplishing.

x

Next time...

The three-chapter long Convention Center Arc kicks off with all the introductions, stalking, and elitism one could want when everyone heads to the regional fair.