As it turned out, she didn't end up sitting with Kyouya for lunch after all. His table was already mainly occupied by a crowd of girls, most of whom gazed at him with adoring eyes and sent her subtle death glares. And so Amelia left, with a parting smile, and went to sit beside Hayashi Hana.
She never noticed the contemplative look Tamaki sent her way, either.
"Excuse me, but where's everyone going?" Amelia asked. Now that school had ended, the girls seemed to be leaving in droves, all in the same direction.
The girl she had asked, Hayashi Hana, blinked at her. "Oh, you're the princess, aren't you? You're new, so you don't know. We're all going to the host club. You should come!"
"... Host club?" What was that?
Hana giggled. "Yes, you should definitely come. I saw the way you were looking at Kyouya-kun earlier."
Somehow, this girl had become my acquaintance.
Wait.
"How was I looking at Ootori-san? I don't - he's just a friend - barely an acquaintance -" Are all Japanese girls like this?
Hana flashed her a knowing smile. "Yeah, okay, whatever you say, Windsor-san! Will you come?"
Blushing furiously, Amelia shook her head. "I don't know how I was looking at Ootori-san earlier, but you have the completely wrong idea. I'm expected back home anyways, so I had better get going. Sorry for bothering you, I hope you have fun at the host club!" And so she left, missing the disappointed look in Hana's eyes.
And so it begins, Amelia thought, with a sad little sigh. She sank into her bed, hugging her pillow to her chest. The maids and other housefolk knew to leave her alone on the first day of school. They'd been through this routine often enough, after all.
She rolled over onto her back, facing the ceiling. Amelia had pinned up photographs of herself and her parents, so that she might look at them as she fell asleep and pretend they were there with her. It was a habit she'd first developed in a boarding school in Germany, when, at eight years old, she'd finally realized that she would only see her parents during summer vacation.
Back then, Amelia had thought that everyone went through the same system she did. Spend two years in a country, one in a rich school, one in a commoner school. Learn the language, learn the culture, make the connections. Rinse and repeat.
Every year a new school. Every year new classmates. By the time she was nine, she'd given up on having any friends. What was the point, if you only spent a few months together before never seeing each other again?
"Oi, Kyoya!" Tamaki called, reclining back in his sofa. The host club had just ended, the last guest stepped out the door.
Kyoya looked up from his notebook, fixing his glasses. "Yes?"
"Do you like Windsor-hime?"
Kyoya raised an eyebrow. "You're an idiot. Of course I don't."
But by then, it was too late.
"Kyoya, Kyoya, Kyoya," the twins sighed, each slinging an arm around their unfortunate victim. "You never tell us anything anymore, Kyoya," Hikaru cried dramatically, flinging back his head in mock despair. "Don't you love us?" Karou continued, mimicking his twin.
Kyoya's eye twitched. "No."
The twins exchanged a look, first with each other, then with Tamaki. Slowly, they grinned, tightening their arms so as to draw Kyoya closer between them. "Who's Windsor-hime, Kyoya?"
Host club.
Host club.
Host club.
What's a host club?
Amelia frowned suddenly, still staring at the ceiling. Is it a part of Japanese culture? An important part?
I shouldn't have refused so suddenly.
I should've researched more.
Struck with a sudden determination, she rolled out of bed and ran to the study, sitting down in front of her laptop with a slight whoosh of air. She typed in host club Japanese into the search bar, absentmindedly wondering if she should change the language setting on her laptop again. She clicked on the first result, and read:
"A host club (ホストクラブ hosuto kurabu) is similar to a hostess club, except that female customers pay for male company… Host clubs are typically found in more populated areas of Japan… Customers are typically wives of rich men or women working as hostesses in hostess clubs … Male hosts pour drinks and will often flirt with their clients, more so than their female counterparts."
Staring straight ahead, she closed her laptop. Her mind was short-circuiting a bit, and she was having trouble thinking.
People… pay... to be flirted with…?
Like… prostitution, but with flirting…?
Her eyes widened as she remembered one of the lines from the Wikipedia article.
"Customers are typically wives of rich men"
Wives.
Wives.
s.
Their husbands are okay with that?!
Amelia took a deep breath, leaning back. Host clubs were obviously a big part of Japanese culture. She had no right to judge them, because it was part of their culture. She repeated the word a few times in her head.
Okay. Amelia knew what she had to do. She would… she would go to the host club. She would negotiate with the president. She would… not pay to be flirted with. No flirtation. None. Negotiate a deal where there is no flirtation.
Amelia felt a small smile curling her lips. Negotiation, she knew how to deal with.
"Apparently, according to the beautiful Hayashi-hime, Windsor-hime all but ran when she was invited to the host club," Tamaki said, scribbling on a white board.
"Tamaki-senpai, is this really necessary? Maybe she just doesn't want to-" Haruhi began tentatively, before being aggressively cut off by Tamaki.
"Nonsense, Haruhi! It is our duty, as hosts, to bring happiness to young maidens! Did Windsor-hime look happy to you, Kyouya?"
The person in question glanced up over his glasses. "She didn't look unhappy."
Tamaki beamed, as if Kyouya had just expressed his heartfelt and everlasting support. "Exactly! And so begins, Operation Get Windsor-hime to See the Host Club!" He triple underlined the title on the whiteboard in case it wasn't clear.
Haruhi sweatdropped. "I'm gonna go home."
"Ah, Windsor-hime! I was wondering when I'd see your beautiful visage," Tamaki cried, turning in his seat the moment Amelia sat down. "Have you considered visiting the host-"
She cut him off with a blinding smile. "Yes, actually, I was going to ask you about that! As president of the host club, would you be willing to enter into negotiations with me? I've outlined a contract which explains what I am and am not willing to participate in, so if you could look it over, we could make the necessary changes and sign as soon as possible. After all, after extensive research, it's clear that the host club is a vital aspect of Japanese culture, isn't it?" Amelia whipped out a stack of papers from her bag and slid them over to Tamaki, still smiling.
"I told you it wasn't necessary," Kyouya sighed, pushing up his glasses. "She's here to learn about Japanese culture. How could she do that if she never visited the host club?"
"Exactly," Amelia agreed.
They both looked at Tamaki, who hadn't moved or spoken. He was frozen in the same position he had been before, staring down at the contract on the table. As they watched, he mumbled something incomprehensible.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" Amelia asked.
"A… a contract?" Tamaki looked up at last, and Amelia felt a stir of satisfaction at the fear in his eyes. His fact had gone white but now settled on a kind of ash grey. "Did… did you talk to Kyouya about this? At all?"
Amelia frowned. "No, where did you get that idea from?"
She could've sworn Tamaki muttered "Oh god, there are two of them," but, as he examined the contract more closely, she decided to ignore it.
"You just want to observe us?" Tamaki clarified, after spending a couple minutes reading it over.
Amelia nodded, explaining, "I'm not comfortable with the flirtation aspects of the host club, but I believe it could be greatly beneficial for me to watch. From there, once I see what actually happens, I may decide to take part as well."
Tamaki blinked. "That's… acceptable."
"Brilliant! Just sign on the dotted line."
As Amelia slid the contract back into her bag, she noticed Amashi Haru walking into the class. Her entire demeanor changed. She sat up a bit straighter, ran her hand through her hair, and sent him a dazzling smile when he caught her eye.
"Windsor-hime! I… I didn't expect you to be so early!"
Amelia twisted in her seat so as to give him her full attention, turning her smile up from "dazzling" to "100-megawatt blinding," enjoying the way he turned bright red. "I love getting up early and seeing the sunrise, Amashi-kun. Please, call me Amelia," she added in a quieter voice, reaching out and putting her hand over his.
Negotiation and flirtation, she thought, with a pleased flutter. This year is shaping up to be much more fun than the last.