A/N: Sorry for the wait, friends and neighbors. My brain needed a break after the monster one-shot I wrote for my Fullmetal piece. But trust me when I say I won't take as long on the next chapter, because I'm so pumped to write it (you'll see why at the end)! Thanks, as always, to my amazing readers, and especially my reviewers. I adore you all!
I do not own Ouran High School Host Club; it belongs to Bisco Hatori.
Twice Shy
"Remember, Tama-chan? Remember the party?"
The atmosphere in the small room was strained, and anxious. The soft sunlight filtering in through the lace curtains, and the cheery vase of yellow flowers did nothing to dispel the edge of unease. On the opulent bed, Anne-Sophie pressed delicate fingers against her lips, to contain the tiny coughs that bubbled in her chest, and Tamaki clutched at her hand with something like desperation. The smile that he offered in answer to Hunni's question was stretched too thin, and sick around the edges.
"Of course."
"Which party, Hunni-sempai?" Kaoru asked. He was clinging to his notebook again, long fingers seeking comfort from the familiar binding pressed against his skin. But only with one hand, Haruhi noticed. The other was tangled with Hikaru's, half hidden underneath their chairs.
"Takashi's birthday." Hunni's smile was the only unwavering one in the room. Like a small sun, it beamed, bright and determined. But his eyes were dark and serious, despite the cheer on his lips and in his voice. "The last one we celebrated with the Host Club."
Despite the semi-tense situation, Haruhi's cheeks flamed cherry red.
"Hunni-sempai," she said, half in warning and half in plea.
The look that Hunni shot her was vaguely apologetic, but it also conveyed that he was sort of willing to shove her under the spotlight to help deactivate the situation in the room.
"Oh," Hunni said, his voice dripping with innocence. "Do you remember it too, Haru-chan?"
….
They were being stalked.
This wasn't an uncommon activity. In fact, the members of the Ouran High School Host Club found the day strange if they weren't shadowed by a flock of a fluttering, giggling girls through the school hallways. Haruhi bore it with patient smiles, the twins with shameless winks that turned the crowd behind them into a squealing, swooning mess. Hunni gifted them with bright waves and giggles, and Mori gave them the occasional grunt of acknowledgement. Kyoya ignored them completely, catering to his cool guy persona, and Tamaki…
Tamaki wriggled with delight every time he spied the mass meandering at his heels.
Typically, the girls did nothing more than fall in step behind the Host Club, and whisper giddily at their backs. It was annoying, but affectionately so, and could be easily ignored by those that had no taste for it (Mori, Haruhi, Kyoya). They hardly ever traveled in packs of more than four or five, and because the upperclassmen typically left the stalking to the younger ones, those packs were painfully shy. They were almost never brave enough to reach out and touch, and those that did work up the nerve were quickly subverted by a sweet and silver-tongued reproach from Tamaki, or a politely frigid glance from Kyoya.
But today, the groups that tailed them had grown from four or five to half of Ouran's female population. They packed themselves shoulder to shoulder in the already crowded hallway, and forced the students that showed little interest in the Host Club (pretty much every classmate with a Y chromosome) to squash themselves against the walls to get by. Today, the pack of females didn't bother to hide their whispers behind their hands, and so the chorus of their excited murmurs swelled inside the corridor, drowning out all other sound. And, emboldened by their sudden numbers, the girls started a bizarre game of truth or dare type molestation. Anonymous hands would slip out of the crowd, the faces that those hands belonged to safely hidden inside the tight press of bodies, and reach for the Host Club members. Tamaki and Hunni held up reasonably well, shaking off the stroking hands with scandalized smiles and gentle scolding. But Haruhi's face was bright red with embarrassment, and the vein in Kyoya's temple was beating out a steady, potentially lethal tattoo. Even the twins were starting to grimace as fingers pinched and prodded, their typically seductive masks melting off like candle wax.
But no one had it worse than the tallest Host Club member. He was the reason for the crowd, and the recipient of the majority (as well as the most invasive) of the finger pokes. Today was his eighteenth birthday, and the girls of Ouran took that to mean that surely he would want special attention. And so they cooed words of congratulations, while their fingers continued to reach.
Mori, to his credit, bore up reasonably well, certainly better than Kyoya or Haruhi. But anyone could read misery and discomfort in the hunch of his shoulders and the furrow of his brow, even though his face remained as impassive as ever. He grunted his thanks at their birthday salutations, and kept his eyes aimed at the ground. He knew that they weren't even close to finished yet. There were certain expectations that accompanied a Host Club position, and their patrons would expect to celebrate his birthday with him. For Tamaki's birthday, they'd all dressed up in old French Renaissance costumes and play-acted a royal court. For Hunni's birthday, Haruhi had compiled an afternoon full of commoner's games, and Hunni had run around for hours with a big smile and cake-stained cheeks. Even Kyoya had been forced into a sedate tea party to celebrate when his birthday rolled around. Mori wasn't sure exactly what Tamaki had planned, but he knew he had hours yet of prodding and poking and giggling and games to look forward to.
It's not that Mori minded their female clients. He could handle them two or three at a time, in a controlled setting like Music Room Three. But he didn't have Mitsukuni's naturally friendly spirit; when they came out in droves, they triggered his years of physical training, and his instincts urged him to get out of the crowd, to avoid being trapped.
And he was so used to stepping back and allowing Mitsukuni to have the spotlight, because the boy beamed like a brilliant sun anyway. Mori enjoyed playing the pale and silent moon instead; he was comfortable in the shadows, always hovering protectively on the edge of Mitsukuni's brightness, but never really stepping into it. The girls that came to the Host Club to see only him left him honestly baffled. If Mitsukuni was the sun, and the rest of the hosts the colorful and contrasting planets (Kyoya the moody and mysterious Saturn, Tamaki the hot and romantic Venus, Haruhi the logical and brightly burning Mercury, Hikaru the passionate and temperamental Mars, Kaoru the intuitive and artistic Neptune), then wasn't Mori horribly plain and boring by comparison?
Mori was hardly listening as the hosts, and their ensuing wake of fluttering females, reached the doors to Music Room Three. He had one ear cocked for Mitsukuni, as always, but that was so commonplace that unless Mitsukuni was speaking to him directly, Mori could easily filter it to a pleasant buzz of background noise.
"Ladies," Tamaki cooed, waving his elegant hands at the crowd behind them. "Please stop shoving. It is unbecoming of such beautiful princesses to push."
"We're just so excited, Tamaki," one of the older, and braver, clients squealed from the front of the crowd. "Mori-sempai is legal today!"
Outwardly, Mori's straight face showed absolutely zero acknowledgement of the girl's statement. But safely inside, he nearly choked over his own panic.
Legal.
Well.
That explained all the prodding fingers.
Tamaki, God bless him, was as quick as ever. He had the girl in question in his arms and popped off her feet before the crowd behind her could even begin to voice their own excitement.
"My beautiful princess, how you wound me," he gushed, his violet eyes radiating love-struck despair. "Do you mean to imply that my ardent affections for you now pale in comparison to Mori's age?"
"Blargh," the girl offered in return, struck stupid by the impossibly beautiful face so close to hers.
"Heartless, princess," Tamaki chided. "To throw away my love and deny me the pleasure of your company all for the sake of another." The hand that wasn't supporting the girl's back as Tamaki dipped her nearly horizontal to the floor came up to cup her cheek. "You've broken my heart so beautifully, my dear. But I suppose that I shall find a way to carry on, as wretched as an existence it may be without your beauty."
As Tamaki brought the girl back to her feet, keeping a careful hand on her waist after a quick and assessing glance at her shaking knees, he used his long fingers to brush at the tears of despair he'd summoned to lie on his lashes.
The crowd erupted like a veritable volcano of estrogen.
The girl staggered out of Tamaki's embrace, looking particularly punch-drunk, and half-wandered back into the screaming mob behind her.
With one more woeful glance at the girl in question, Tamaki retreated back to his own crowd as well. Mori shifted just a little as he passed, and gave Tamaki a subtle shoulder bump to convey his gratitude. Tamaki flashed him a small, secret smile.
"Shall we go in, gentlemen?" he asked.
Mori sighed. Might as well get this over with.
The doors to Music Room 3 swung open, assaulting the hosts and the crowd behind them with rose petals. As the girls swooned and screamed, the Host Club meandered through the door.
And let it swing shut behind them.
Confused, Mori glanced back at the wooden panels, hearing the good-natured 'aww's of disappointment from the other side. He took a brief moment to survey the strangers standing further inside the room, dressed in matching white shirts. Then he turned back to the Mitsukuni, who was sporting a grin a mile wide.
"You don't like noise, Takashi," the boy beamed. "So Usa-chan and I thought you might like a special, not-noisy party first. We told that ladies that you'd have cake with them tomorrow!"
"We apologize for not keeping the crowd away completely," Kyoya added, giving his glasses a careless nudge. "But the girls needed to be appeased after we informed them that we'd be celebrating your birthday in private. Allowing them to follow us was good for business. You understand."
If Mori would have been a different person, he might have rolled his eyes. He wasn't, and so he didn't, but that was okay because Haruhi did it for him.
"We wanted to celebrate with you on your own first, Mori-sempai," she offered. "Eighteen is a big birthday, after all."
"Yeah!" the twins cheered, pumping their fists in the air. "The birthday of cigarettes and strippers!"
Mori let his eyes travel over the strangers in the room, both male and female, and felt the blood drain from his face.
"Which we didn't get," Haruhi hastened to add, before he fainted from sheer terror and embarrassment. "No matter how hard the twins lobbied for it."
Mori nearly fainted anyway, the rush of relief was so strong. Instead, he focused once again on the small crew of six or seven people and let his brow furrow the barest bit to express his confusion.
"Kyo-chan helped me set it up," Hunni said, reading his face like a well-loved and familiar book. "He said that we couldn't do it during a regular Host Club party because it would hurt your…" Hunni fumbled, and glanced at a stoic Kyoya for assistance.
"Your strong and silent personality type," he provided helpfully, giving his pen an idle tap against his notebook pages.
"Yeah, that!" Hunni continued. "But I know you like it, and Kyo-chan said it was okay if we did it in private."
Still confused, Mori left his brow furrowed. Hunni laughed, and grabbed at his hand. With an excited bounce, he towed his taller friend towards the center of the room. As they drew closer, Mori's ears caught the edges of soft sounds.
Soft mewls. Sleepy barks. And restless rustling.
Mori's brow smoothed out in pure surprise as they rounded the couch that had been blocking his view. Each white-clad stranger was standing by a basket lined with blankets. Nestled inside each basket was a different type of baby animal. There were a pair of kittens, curled around each other on a soft pink blanket. A tiny brown puppy burrowed sleepily against the wicker edge of his basket. A fluffy white rabbit watched Mori with twitching ears and solemn black eyes. A green and red turtle crawled restlessly around his white blanket. Two multi-colored guinea pigs gnawed at the carrots arranged on their basket bottom.
Tamaki gave an ear-splitting squeal of excitement.
"Where did they come from?" Mori asked quietly.
The girl standing next to the basket of kittens gave him a wide and friendly smile
"All of these animals are currently housed at the pound on the other side of town," she explained.
Mori flushed and shot a glance at Mitsukuni's grinning face. They didn't keep secrets from each other, so clearly the smaller boy was aware of his weakness for animals. But he was a little embarrassed at being outed in front of the rest of the club.
"Because there are so many, they don't get much affection outside of basic care," the girl continued, and her glance down at the kittens by her feet was both and filled with familiar sadness. "So we're always happy to bring them out to events like birthday parties. People shower them with love, and there's always the chance that some of them will be adopted."
"I'LL GIVE THEM AFFECTION!" Tamaki bellowed, unable to stand it anymore, and he dove for the nearest basket. The boy standing next to it shot him a look that was equal parts amused and terrified, and sidled out of the way.
Hunni laughed, and then let out a war whoop of his own. He made a direct beeline for the basket with the fluffy white bunny. Eventually, the other hosts followed, making their way towards the baskets with a great deal more trepidation than their blonde club mates. The workers in white either politely stepped out of the way, or crouched down to demonstrate how to properly lift and handle the animal in question.
An hour later found Mori sitting cross-legged on the floor, a black and white kitten sprawled sleepily across his lap. Tamaki was crouched on the floor and stroking the kitten's tawny counterpart across the room. Hikaru and Kaoru were feeding the identical brown and white guinea pigs carrots, and laughing as their tiny teeth nibbled at their fingers. Mitsukuni was cradling the white rabbit in his arms, and bouncing him gently as he introduced him to Usa-chan. The turtle was still in the basket, but he and Kyoya seemed to be having some sort of solemn-eyed staring contest. The animal handlers were chatting quietly in a corner, watching the host club members with indulgent smiles. Soft sunlight filtered through the windows and illuminated patches of floor in golden light.
Mori traced a gentle finger over the kitten's dainty paw, and allowed the tiny bubble of contentment filling his chest to expand.
He offered Haruhi a quick curve of his lips as she scooted down next to him on the floor.
"Tamaki's not leaving Ouran without a new pet," she observed dryly, as she watched the blonde prince cuddle his kitten. "I hope Antoinette doesn't get jealous."
"Mm," Mori offered in agreement.
Haruhi looked down at the puppy curled up in her lap. The little thing was burrowed against her leg, nestling against her in his sleep.
"I wish I could take him home with me, too," she murmured. "But Dad and I can't have animals in the apartments."
Mori was watching her when she glanced back up. She shrugged, and settled for stroking the puppy's soft fur.
"Did you have a happy birthday, Mori-sempai?" she asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.
Mori considered the kitten warming his legs.
"It's…more than I ever expected," he said softly. "Better."
Haruhi smiled.
"I'm glad. You're not disappointed?" she asked, and gave his arm a teasing nudge. "By the lack of strippers and cigarettes?"
The look Mori shot her was dryer than summer dust. Haruhi laughed.
"The twins were vehement," she said. "They said it was a special birthday; you needed something to remember it by."
"Not that," Mori rumbled in reply.
"What then?" Haruhi asked. "Are you going to buy lottery tickets after school?"
Mori shook his head serenely, his eyes smiling at her joke. Haruhi considered him for a moment out of the corner of her eye. Then, she carefully shifted the sleeping puppy in her lap and leaned over.
Mori barely had time to process her movement and panic before Haruhi's lips landed gently on the corner of his mouth. He froze, a statue of shock, as she left them there for a moment, the soft brush of them like butterfly wings against his skin.
Then she shifted away and offered him a smile.
"There," she said, with a practical nod and pleased grin. "That should do it. You'll remember that, right Mori-sempai?"
Mori, for once struck speechless by something other than choice, could only nod.
His eyes widened with panic once again as a small giggle sounded in his ears. The couch that he was leaning against had blocked him and Haruhi from view, but that didn't visions of Tamaki flying at him with betrayal in his eyes and vengeance in his fists from floating across his brain.
He relaxed marginally when he saw Mitsukuni standing before him, a smile stretching his lips. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Haruhi's cheeks flame the barest bit.
"Happy Birthday, Takashi," he said, and offered the cake that he was cradling in his hands.
It wasn't very big; in fact, by regular Host Club standards, it was downright tiny. But it was expertly frosted and beautifully arranged on the serving platter, and no doubt it was the dark and bitter chocolate that he preferred.
Hunni giggled once again, flashing his grin at Haruhi, then shoved the cake into her hands and bounded across the room.
"Tama-chan! Takashi's ready to cut the cake! Come help me find the forks!"
Haruhi laughed softly at the platter in her palms. Mori watched Mitsukuni lead Tamaki across the room, away from him and Haruhi, and allowed himself a smile.
Later, when the cake was being served, Mori made sure Hunni got the biggest piece.
….
The next day, Mori had cake again. However, instead of Haruhi, he had a veritable sea of females seated by his side. The girls chattered and laughed as Tamaki gushed over his new kitten, whom he'd dubbed Marie. She and Antoinette were apparently fast friends already; they'd settled down to sleep curled around each other.
And he wasn't the only one suddenly sharing his space; Mitsukuni's new rabbit was already happily gnawing on carrots inside his room, and Hikaru and Kaoru had bought the largest and most opulent cage they could find for their new guinea pigs.
And Mori couldn't say for certain, but he thought that he'd seen Kyoya slip the friendly female animal handler money and directions to his house. He was pretty sure that the stoic turtle had taken up residence in Kyoya's bedroom.
Mori almost smiled as he thought of his own new addition, waiting for him in his room at home. He'd named his new friend Bear, because his black and white coloring reminded him of a panda. And as for the brown puppy that Haruhi hadn't been able to keep, well…
Mori named him Witless and hoped that he'd always be lazy enough to not care that his companion was a cat.
One of Mori's faithful female clients smiled at him over her plate of cake, vanilla with delicate pink roses. She asked him if he'd enjoyed his birthday.
Mori thought of bitter chocolate frosting and soft lips brushing against his own.
"I'll never forget it," he said, and allowed his lips to curve in a tiny smile.
…
Tamaki had begun ranting before the story was even over. Haruhi tuned him out and glanced over at Mori. The taller boy offered her the barest hint of a smile, and brushed his fingers against his mouth. Haruhi's face flamed.
"-wounded, so terribly betrayed by my own friend, who I considered family-"
Hunni and Kaoru watched with silent fascination as Tamaki thrashed on the bed. He hadn't breathed since the beginning of his rant, and the younger Hitaachin kept subtly glancing at his watch to keep track of just how large his air tanks were.
Haruhi winced before looking over at Anne-Sophie, terrified to see condemnation on her boyfriend's mother's face. But instead, the woman looked terribly amused. She gave Tamaki's leg a consoling pat. Her eyes were still terrifyingly glassy, but at least the coughing had stopped.
"Sweetheart," she said, and she sounded very French somehow. "Really. What's a little kiss between friends?"
"But…he…they…Gah!"
Haruhi, cheeks still pink, didn't bother patting Tamaki's leg. She punched it instead.
"Knock it off!" she insisted. "It's not a big deal. Besides, you've all-"
She bit her tongue, and called herself seven kinds of idiot as Tamaki stilled so abruptly that he nearly fell off the bed.
"We've all what?" he asked.
Haruhi swallowed hard and looked around the room. Kaoru and Hikaru wore identical expressions of panic. Hunni was kicking his feet and staring at the ceiling, the picture of innocence. Mori was very still, as if he had sudden aspirations of becoming one with his chair. And Kyoya, for the first time since she'd seen him at the airport, was actually looking in Haruhi's direction. Behind his glasses, his eyes very clearly read don't you dare.
It was that reaction, that first spark of actual response, that spurred Haruhi to continue, even though the issue was a boggy one. Hikaru was looking at her too, actually focusing on her face instead of staring stubbornly at the wall.
Well, fine. She'd suffer a little humiliation if it forged the road to fixing things.
"You've all…it's not…you just…I'm a girl," Haruhi said helplessly. "I know we all ignored that in high school, um, for the most part." The blush she'd worked so hard to kill flamed back to life, filling her cheeks with color. "But that doesn't change what I am, and we spent so much time together, and, well, there were…accidents."
"Accidents," Tamaki repeated, his violet eyes narrowed.
Anne-Sophie was snickering. And Hunni's shoulders were shaking suspiciously, even though it was impossible to interpret his expression with his face aimed at the ceiling.
"Right." Haruhi sighed, and offered up a quick prayer that they'd all live through the next story. "Accidents."
...
A/N: Someone told me that Mori liked animals in the manga, and thus this chapter was born. What kind of accidents could Haruhi have encountered with the Host Club boys to make them so embarrassed? Stay tuned to find out. Happy Reading!