The host club's cat

Top 10 anime betrayals

"Why are there trees in the room? Why are we dressed like this and why am I the only one shirtless? At least give me a vest or something."

I have now been a host for about a week. I really thought I would've gotten used to this by now but apparently life says no. The once clean and pristine music room was now covered in exotic ferns, shrubbery, and trees. The rest of the members were dressed in bright colours reminiscent of a tropical getaway. Most of them had something that they could cover up their upper halves with, whether it be sashes, an extensive amount of jewellery or flower wreaths—but then I walk in, wearing nothing but a pair of off-white, baggy pants, a golden upper arm cuff and a single gold earring on my left ear with a red droplet shaped gem hanging off of it. The gem is probably expensive so I might sell it later. To be perfectly honest, I wouldn't be surprised if it was made of pure gold, but I'm not complaining.

You see, the real problem doesn't lie with the fact that I'm shirtless. It's the fact that I know they're intentionally trying to make my body my selling point. The costume purposefully showing off my toned body. This will probably be the only the only time I regret all the running I did and volleyball I played.

"It was Tamaki's idea for today's theme," Hikaoru said.

"No one else seemed to mind so we just went with it," Kaoru Finished.

"—and it was your ingenious idea for my costume, wasn't it?" I turned to Kyoya. He said noting but pushed his glasses up with a ghost of a smile, sensing the slightest bit of irritation from me.

Oh you son of a b—Just you wait...

"Anyways, shouldn't we get in positions for the girls?" I say.

Everyone unanimously agreed and got into positions, the rest of us standing and facing the door surrounding Tamaki as he sits on his usual chair. I was standing to the left of Tamaki slightly behind his chair, my body was turned sideways and my face angled slightly upwards and towards the door. Next to me was Mori-senpai carrying Chibi-chan in his arms.

Then, all hell broke loose. The girls flooded in and went to their chosen hosts.

From what I see, Tamaki was, obviously, the most popular host with girls flocking to him left and right. Kyoya was second and the rest of us were sort of equal. I made my way with the girls towards the corner of the room close where they stationed me, close to the window, and started doing what I was supposed to do. Flirting with them, having some small talk, and all that jazz. If I said it wasn't tiring I would be lying. Having girls stare, squeal, and act weirdly around you, like you just came out of an anime, wasn't the best way to destress. After an hour or so of entertaining them, I got up, discreetly got my stuff, and moved to stand next to the window.

"Now, now girls, it's been fun but I'm afraid I have to dash."

"But can't you stay for a little longer?" One of them whined.

"Yeah! Stay longer!" Another pleaded. I opened the window. They were confused at my actions looking at me weirdly. "Sorry girls, but no can do."

    Let me tell you that this little stunt was probably even better than that one time I dropped the f-bomb in front of the others. Their faces morphed from confusion to horror when they finally understood my actions. Some were frozen to the spot whilst some attempted to rush towards me. They weren't fast enough.

"Later, Princess," I gave my biggest, brightest smile, although it would never beat Shoyou's, but nevertheless it was bright, a short wave and, well...

I jumped.

I could hear the girls screaming. I couldn't blame them, after all, it was the second floor—I bet 1000¥ that one of them fainted. But I wasn't dumb enough to just randomly jump out of a random window—wait, did you really think I was? I'm actually, genuinely, hurt by that [A/N: please do not attempt this at home or anywhere else I don't want to be responsible for any injuries]. Of course, there was something there to help soften my fall—or at least, to help me not break something. I grabbed a large branch from the a tree which helped slow me down and I landed on the bushes. The only thing I got were a few scratches and the occasional bruise but other than that I was perfectly fine. I ran off, laughing to myself for pulling yet, another stupid stunt at this school. Let's just hope that none of them had any heart problems...

***

    It felt great.

When you jump up and soar above the net. When the ball flies up and hits your hand. The sound it makes when it slams onto rival ground and ricochets off whilst cold sweat drips off your face. The exhilaration when you finally hit the ground, followed by the sweet sensation of temporary victory that washes away the stress and worries of life no matter how insignificant it seemed compared to it. Shouts of 'Nice receive!' and other phrases you'd typically hear, echoed around the gym. Shoes squeaked against the wooden floor. I wiped the sweat off my forehead.

    "Not bad, Kuroo," Yaku sighed and walked over to me. "It was a good match."

    "Likewise."

    "Anyways, how's that new school of yours? I hear from Kenma that it's a little..." He trailed off.

    "Weird?"

    "Yeah, that."

    I snorted darkly, "Forget the 'dickheaded rich dude' stereotype, they go way beyond that. They act like the goddamned stereotypical English nobles from the 17th century or something. Drinking fancy tea and calling normal people 'commoners'—whatever that means. What were the writers high on when they made this shit?"

At this point I was just rambling, going off topic and letting my frustration and irritation that was bottled inside me for a whole week loose. That was until Yaku stopped to ask questions. His brain probably couldn't digest all the spontaneity and dickerey that had just happened in my life.

    "Wait, 'commoners'? And what do you mean by 'writers'?"

    Well shit. I'm sorry ok? It just slipped out.

    "Writers? What are those? I don't know what you mean..." I tried to play it off with a laugh but he didn't look convinced—I did not just jump out a window for this. I guess I'll have to ditch the 'ignorance' route. I leaned in close, narrowed my eyes and said to him in a low voice.

    "We don't talk about 'writers' here."

    Honestly, it didn't work very well. He just looked weirded out and slowly walked away moving on to help the others pack away. I hope he forgets it soon, otherwise he might just have an existential crisis or something along those lines. What? Did you think I would just accept that fact? Actually I did—and honestly the Kuroken content here is great, although there are some *cough cough* weird ones here and there. I would totally fuck tsukki—putting that matter aside... There's no knowing how he would react. Oh shit, Kenma's looking at me weirdly, can he read minds?

"Oi! Kuroo! Stop slacking and help us pack up!" Yaku threatened.

"Sure, sure," I jogged over because I'd rather not die anytime soon. My life is decent at the moment, it would be a shame to end it now. He has an affinity with murdering tall people.

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[A/N]: Sorry guys, I really feel like I botched up this chapter. It feels more like a filler than anything else. I'll try make up to it next chapter.

- Twenty