The Maxims of the Rich
Ten lessons and rules one should know about Ouran Academy...
A/N: Third chapter! If you haven't already noticed, I really like picking on Kyouya-san :P
All characters © Hatori Bisco
Lesson # 3: Kyouya and flowers don't mix.
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Ouran High, in a sense, was in full bloom. Oh, but not on the outside; the trees were bare and black, the weather was bitingly frigid, and the streets were slick with slushy ice. It was, after all, the middle of February.
No, the blooming came from within the walls of the school, where its upper-class inhabitants were preparing for the holiday. Silk valentines were being made, foreign chocolates were being imported, and the finest jewelry was being shipped by the boxful to the prestigious, wealthy families of Ouran. The Host Club was thriving, and their female guests were even more lovestruck than usual.
"Honey-kun, would you like Scandinavian or American chocolates for Valentine's Day?"
"This is my father's finest maker, Tamaki-sama; I hope it will please you…"
"We can't wait to see you in those, Hikaru!"
Like Christmas, Halloween, or any other major holiday for that matter, the school got extremely involved. They certainly had the free time to spend getting into the seasonal cheer.
In the Host Club, Ootori Kyouya had left to retrieve the doilies and extravagant lace necessary to decorate the third music room even further. Suoh Tamaki was accompanying a student cellist as they performed Beethoven's third sonata in A major together. It was a captivating performance—the cellist was an upperclassman with a cloud of thick, auburn waves cascading over her shoulders. Her bow glazed over the strings, smooth as molasses, and with a deep passion. She was most likely a foreigner, for her skin was very pale and she had strong facial features. Her eyes were a large blue-gray, which was not very common amongst the Japanese. Overall, it was a romantic recital.
On the far side of the room, the Hitachiin twins were writing dreamy poetry for their designators. A faded yellow thesaurus lay at their side and they were taking pleasure in reading their works out loud to one another. Haruhi rolled her eyes and commented on their pathetic vocabulary and sentence structure. Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai had donned identical splattered aprons and were busy making cookies, cakes, and any other pastries imaginable. The smell was enough to make one salivate.
After Tamaki's concert, Kyouya returned with the bag of doilies. Heaving a sigh he set them down, looking impassively at the receipt that accompanied. The King of Hosts noticed his arrival, fanned out his blonde hair, and greeted his fellow host as he walked in the door.
"Okaasan, we missed you so!" Tamaki crooned. His expression turned eager, like a hungry puppy begging for a treat. "Did you get the decorations?" Kyouya gave a nod.
"I was able to g—"he suddenly stopped mid-sentence, dark eyes widening slightly.
"Tamaki," he said quietly, looking at the new additions to the music room. "What are those?"
"What're what?" The Host King followed Kyouya's gaze, which was resting on the soft, mauve bouquets strewn out on one of the room's settees and in other various locations of the room. "The lilacs?"
Haruhi looked up from her table, noticing that the club's vice president looked very wary, almost afraid. The expression was so foreign on Kyouya's features that she rose and walked over with curiosity baiting her senses.
"Oh, Renge got them for us while you were out!" Tamaki gushed, oblivious to his classmate's expression. "Don't they look lovely with the room?"
Kyouya frowned and actually took an involuntary step backwards. "That's a matter of opinion," he replied with apparent distaste. His voice, although debonair, came out sounding somewhat squeezed. The Hitachiin twins, who had been listening in, gave their vice president a puzzled, hazel look.
Abruptly, Kyouya cupped a hand over his mouth and nose and sneezed lightly, twice. Haruhi and Tamaki blinked as he muttered a low "excuse me."
"So that's it," Hikaru and Kaoru mused together as they figured it out immediately, fiercely suppressing the urge to snicker. It was a battle that they would soon lose, and only the thought of what Kyouya would do to them reeled them in from the brinks of laughter. It was a good thing that they did, for said host was not looking very pleased at the moment.
"Goodness, Kyouya!" Tamaki exclaimed with wide, pale eyes as his classmate failed to stifle a few more sneezes. "Are you alright?" he asked, cocking his head.
"Get rid of them, Tamaki," the Shadow King managed, sounding a bit lightheaded. "N-now…" he trailed off, features wearing a strange expression behind his glasses. His breath began to hitch.
Hikaru grinned and met his brother's equally amused gaze.
"Uh-oh."
Kyouya broke into a paroxysm, unable to stop for a good minute. Haruhi looked a little taken aback as she lost count, feeling sorry for her senpai. Reaching into her powder-blue Ouran jacket she extracted a folded handkerchief and handed it to Kyouya, who took it when he had finished, looking rather embarrassed.
"It's okay, senpai, we all have things like that," she said consolingly as he nodded and departed the music room. He had not but shut the door behind him when the twins burst into bright peals of hoots and laughter, unable to contain it any longer.
"It looks like Kyouya-senpai's got a weakness after all!" Kaoru sniggered. Tamaki smiled at the thought.
"Hmm," he wondered. "This does not bode well. Maybe I really should get rid of them." He went to the settee and picked up a bouquet of the lavender flowers, absorbing their sweet and pleasant odour with a tinge of sadness.
Hikaru had a mischievous little half-smile on his face. "Are you kidding?" he asked incredulously. "We haven't had this much fun in ages!" Two identical pairs of hazel eyes sparkled humouredly.
At this even Haruhi allowed herself a fleeting grin. "I don't think I've ever seen Kyouya-senpai act so entertaining," she admitted, "but we should probably throw them out."
An hour later the third music room had been de-lilac-ed, and Houshakuji Renge was apologizing profusely to a slightly watery-eyed, pink-nosed Kyouya.
"No, it's alright Renge, you couldn't have known," he calmed her with a polite smile, internally wincing at the thick sound of his voice. Trying to retain at least some of his dignity, he gracefully pushed his glasses up as Tamaki approached.
"Na, okaasan," Tamaki began, giving a sad, puppy-eyed look. "We're sorry too for this mishap. Would you like some more tissues?"
Kyouya sighed and tried not to glare at Tamaki; he only meant well. The twins, on the other hand…
"We know senpai's weak-ness, we know senpai's weak-ness!" they chorused in amazingly accurate unison, beaming gleefully. Hikaru leaned in with a coy look. "We could use this the next time you try to blackmail us, Kyouya-senpai."
Kyouya raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "Hikaru, Kaoru, come here for a minute," he said, motioning for them to follow him into the next room.
Haruhi and Honey, who had joined Tamaki, gazed at their king inquiringly. Tamaki smiled down at them, an oddly sapient smile that was at odds with his boyish face.
"They should have known better than to mess with Kyouya," he replied simply. They nodded and cast sorrowful glances at the doorway in which the three had exited.
After a few minutes the twins reappeared, followed by Kyouya, who looked somewhat smug. The two freshmen were fidgeting nervously, and Kaoru was even trembling a little.
"We won't ever mention what happened this afternoon to anyone, okay?" They asked the other club members. Haruhi noticed that the brothers looked pale and anxious, beads of perspiration forming at their temples. "What happens in the Host Club stays in the Host Club."
The others nodded. "Of course."
Throughout the rest of the day the club gave Kyouya a wide berth indeed, allergies or no allergies.
End.