A/N: PLEASE READ THIS! IT IS VERY, VERY, VERY IMPORTANT! I am undergoing an incredibly thorough editing of this fanfiction at the moment, and so far all of the chapters have had at LEAST a couple hundred words added to them by the time I have finished with them, although so far any changes by deletion have been entirely negligible. Therefore they are being re-uploaded over time as I finish my editing, which is why you will probably be getting "update" emails from ffn this week. I am not uploading new chapters yet, but I will be trying to add the unpublished, but written, chapters as I edit those as well. We shall see how entirely new content works out - I can't promise a damn thing, because my medicine has been notoriously unreliable as to how it affects my creative process, but I will be trying very hard to write some entirely new chapters once I finish the edit of the ten already written chapters.

Thank you so much if you read this wall of text!

It started with a glance.

Simple. Innocuous. Almost… dismissive. As if the honor student – dressed like a boy, but Kyōya was no fool; Fujioka Haruhi was a female – was nothing more than a speck of dust on his glasses; simply ignored and wiped away just as easily. Despite the extra ridiculous actions she brought his club members to.

But no; dismissive turned into interested, when he realized that there was a way that he could benefit from her presence. Yes, it was an utter shame that the vase was shattered, but ah… having someone like Fujioka Haruhi added into his calculations, moderately under his control, would add a delectable kind of chaos into his life. It would lessen the stifling, deadening feeling that had been creeping over him as of late, because Fujioka Haruhi was an unknown factor, was different, was oh-so-clearly, completely, undeniably, unique and undefinable.

She fit everywhere and nowhere, she was similar and apart, she was there and away.

Ah… what a delight.

Kyōya smirked softly to himself, reflexively pushing his glasses up as he turned away from the group surrounding him, already making plots, plans, and designs, and allowing for a modest amount of flexibility in them. He was calculating, he was precise, he was exact – and it was smothering him to death.

Now, however, he had breathing room. There was a debt to be paid off, and numerous ways in which to do it, and best of all, no matter what path the Club decided upon, everything would change in ways that he had absolutely no control over. Control, as it turned out, was dreadfully boring when one was in a situation where they had the ultimate power. Yes, it was magnificent when everything went exactly to plan, but it was also so… bland, nowadays. He needed some divergence. Some way where he could wrest control back from when it went awry. When everything went to plan, after all.. well that was hardly making the world bend to one's will, now, was it?

Fujioka Haruhi would throw everything off balance, just by existing within and without the confines of their club. She would shift, and change, and grow; and along with her, the other members would mimic her, also shifting, changing, and growing.

The black haired young man had to admit, that Tamaki calling Haruhi "buta" (pig) – or rather, her reaction to it, was fairly entertaining in and of itself, as was the massive production that their "king" made out of the "commoners' instant coffee". He himself had had some before, not that anyone else would know. It was surprisingly decent, drinkable, if not as enjoyable as freshly ground beans.

Kyōya was right next to his new entertainment form when Honey lured her into interaction by offering her Usa-chan, and barely held back his smirk at the results. Now there were two who were aware that, despite how well she played it, Haruhi was most definitely a girl.

Then he focused on his conversation, and oh, was it an utter delight to watch as she realized how hopeless her situation was, how much control he, personally, had over her. Yes, Fujioka was appalled, and distraught, and morose, but.. oho… He smirked again. You could barely see it through her abominably messy haircut, but the tips of her ears were just the slightest bit pink.

Of course, then Tamaki came and ruined things by startling the girl out of it, but small steps were just as promising as grand leaps.

Kyōya continued to observe her interactions, smirking as she called Tamaki obnoxious – Tamaki was his friend, his best friend, in fact, insofar as things went, but that was certainly a blunt truth that the so called "King" did not want to hear.

Ah… Her hidden appearance (not to be confused with gender) was now found out by Tamaki, via the Twins. The only thing passing through his mind as he opened his phone to obey his best friend was, 'And now, it begins'.

The hairdresser was called by Kyōya himself, contacts were ordered and arranged by Mori, a uniform was retrieved by Hikaru and Kaoru while Honey ate cake… and as he heard her yell out to the Twins that they had to leave her be while she dressed, he knew that two more of their club had figured it out.

Of course, Tamaki, ever-generous idiot that he was, then offered her a far better deal for getting out of her debt than Kyōya approved of – being female, Haruhi would easily get the required one hundred customers – but Kyōya was nothing if not resourceful. That debt would increase with every mistake she made that did something to change anything significantly. Being a commoner – and a girl – there would undoubtedly be many of those.

When Haruhi made her debut it went exactly as he had known it would, and Haruhi immediately endeared herself to her customers, gaining three requests right off the bat for her innocent charm and wholesomeness that he just wanted to subvert into so many other delightful things. Of course, then the ever-jealous "Princess Ayanokoji" caused a disruption, and the way Haruhi reacted told Kyōya all he needed to know – as did Ayanokoji's reaction to the interaction. That girl would be causing trouble for the ever-adorable Fujioka. However, now Mori was also in the know about the truth of the matter, which was more to his benefit. While Honey would try to make Haruhi spoil him, and the Twins would bedevil and annoy her, Mori could now be counted on to protect Haruhi as fiercely as he protected Honey.

Kyōya didn't want his precious monkey wrench getting snapped, after all. She was necessary for him to have the feeling of control he so craved. To wash away the boredom his life had slid into. To manipulate and dominate. To subvert to his will, his desires.

Of course, he was also someone who worked from behind the scenes, and that let him be aware of everything going on. He watched as Tamaki helped her look for her lost items that the "princess" had tossed away, he paid attention as the previously mentioned "princess" interfered with his plans and futilely attempted to get Haruhi kicked out – ha, as if that would happen – but oh, the results were perfect. Tamaki increased her quota – she might, possibly, be able to reach it in three years – and lured her deeper into their den of iniquity.

Of course, Tamaki also finally – after nearly four days – figured out the truth of her biological gender, and immediately developed an intense crush at seeing her in the girl's uniform, but Haruhi was so unaffected by it that Kyōya wasn't worried. Especially when – without using those words exactly – she basically came straight out and admitted to being non-binary, albeit most likely without an ounce of dysphoria.

Haruhi might not know it, but she was and would always be his, as evidenced by her barely-there, oh-so-shy smile when she caught his smirk at her indifference to Tamaki's incredibly red face. Of course, Haruhi was incredibly fetching in female clothes, but those wouldn't be nearly as effective to his needs, and her comments about seeing possibilities hosting cemented that she would continue to work things in his favor.

Oh yes. Things were going to turn out wonderfully from now on.