The Truth About the Girl With the Broken Smile [Ouran Host Club] (Editing)

Date Me

                Kaoru and I found our way to a small playground at the edge of town. I dropped his arm and raced over to the swings. He followed close behind.

                “When I was five I used to come here every day.” I told him kicking off the ground. The rusted chains let out an awful screeching sound as the swing swung back and forth. Kaoru placed himself on the swing directly beside me watching me out of the corner of his eye.

                “You lived in Japan?” He asked. I nodded.

                “I was actually born here. My Dad was an inventor and my mom a missionary. They met here, at this park, so after I was born they brought me here again and again, probably in hopes of rekindling their relationship.” I sighed digging my heels into the sand. I skidded to a stop and stared at him. He smiled.

                “So this playground holds good memories.”

                Again, I nodded. “Some of the best. Unfortunately, my parents divorced shortly after. My mom dragged Ryley and I back to the states and now, eleven years later, here I am. Tada.”

                His smile widened. He rocked the swing back and forth, nudging me in the process. “I’m really glad you moved back.” He said. “If you didn’t, I wouldn’t know you. I’m very grateful.”

                Heat flushed to my face. I brushed some hair over my eyes trying to conceal my embarrassment. “So, Kaoru, tell me about yourself.” I asked. “What are some of your likes, dislikes, hopes and dreams. That kind of thing.”

                He frowned. He fixed his golden eyes up in the sky. With every uneven breath, smoke swirled from his lips. I tugged at my scarf, fastening it around my scar. “You know, I haven’t really thought about it.” He admitted. “I mean, I like to do a lot of things, but now that I think about it, they all revolve around Hikaru. Even the Host Club. Isn’t that funny?”

It was a rhetorical question.

I was certain of it.

But a very big part of me wanted to answer.

                “No, not funny.” I whispered. “He’s your brother. For a long time it must have just been the two of you. But look at you now. The top of your class with a wonderful group of friends. You like playing tricks and games, making people uncomfortable, but most imporatantly, family is your number one in your life.”

                He looked at me with a queasy smile. I froze. “If you already knew all that, then why’d you ask?”

                I bit my lip. Why did I ask? I could argue out of curdosy, but I knew better. I think I just wanted to know something about him no one else did. I wanted a secret, something I could hold onto like a treasure and never give up. I rubbed my hands together trying to warm them as the awkward silence started soaking through.

                “What about you?” He asked. “Tell me about Indie Valentine. There’s got to be more than that sad smile and hypnotic voice. Who are you?”

                Who was I? I was a lot of things. A liar. A fraud. I didn’t want him to know that side of me, though. I lowered my head.

                “I want to be a counselor.” I murmured. “I know it’s a waste, especially considering God has blessed me with this amazing musical ability. I’ve just always loved helping people, even though they scare me. I’ve always been fascinated with the human mind. The brain, how it functions, and mental illnesses. That kind of thing.”