How to Survive a Host Club | OHSHC

"Relaxing" with the Hosts

If Honey wasn't so sweet, I would have abandoned my promise to the Host Club long ago.

They were demanding and infuriating, and the girls that fawned over them were infinitely worse in my eyes. They never formed their own opinions unless asked by one of the hosts, never disagreed with something they said. They were dolls, essentially. What made it odd was that the hosts were meant to cater to their whims, not the other way around.

I mused vaguely about my latest day with the club while I walked home. Not many days had passed since I joined as their "private chef". Really, all I did was bake. Hardly worthy of the title of chef. No need to flex my culinary skills in the least. But I suppose I should have been grateful for its simplicity. The club itself was hard enough to deal with.

At one point today, I had rushed to the bathroom and heaved my lunch into the toilet. That taught me not to watch Hikaru and Kaoru's "brotherly" display for too long. Although, that could have just upset my stomach enough that the slightly smelly tuna I'd had for lunch turned dramatically.

I was bad with remembering dates on which I purchased perishable items.

I also got sick a lot.

Go figure.

"Incest isn't attractive," I muttered to myself. "I don't even remotely get why they worship those two. Now, Honey I get. He's cute, and, while I'm sterotyping, girls like cute things. Tamaki is handsome, there's no debating that. And he says the things girls read about in romance novels and shojo manga. So that hooks them right there. Kyouya.... is a little farfetched in terms of likability. He's outwardly cold and calculating, but I suppose he tones that down when he has customers. Haruhi fits his name really well: He's a natural when it comes to conversation, always making you feel liked and complimented. And that would leave Mori. Mori.... well, he doesn't talk much. But he's no less attractive than the other members, and I guess the "Strong and Silent" type has its advantages over the "Weak and Chatty" type..."

Weak and chatty... now why did that remind me of Tamaki so much?

Speaking of, that boy had already decided I was to be his second daughter. I didn't want to find out what he'd done with the first. But in any case it wasn't wholly a bad thing. It meant I didn't have to worry about him coming on to me.

I sighed slightly as I reached up my free hand to brush my bangs off my face. The other hand held open a small book that I read while I walked. Quite a feat, really, when you consider I was simultaneously dodging foot traffic. And to be frank, I'd yet to bumb into a single person and/or object.

My walk home wasn't particularly long but I found it enjoyable. I was free from the stress of school (and the Host Club) until I collapsed onto my couch and debated whether or not to put my homework off until after dinner.

My hand unconsciously lowered as my gaze drifted to the sky, thoughts of what I would prepare that night for dinner suddenly piling up.

When my parents had sent me off to Japan, and told me I'd be living alone, I insisted they refrain from hiring butlers and maids and personal chefs, ect., ect. I also convinced them to let me choose my own home. They weren't exactly happy when I decided on a nondescript apartment that was neither luxurious nor spacious. But I loved it all the same.

Of course, I would have loved it more if I'd been able to make it home that day.

As I was walking, I failed to notice the painfully obvious black stretch limo that pulled up beside me. Nor did I see when the window rolled down and a head of perfectly styled blonde hair poked out to greet me.

And obviously I was caught off guard when the door was flung open and I was hauled inside by a familiar giant.

"I have a whistle!" I cried, moments before realizing who had kidnapped me.