Objective: Ouran Academy ♔ OHSHC

♔ 01 ♔

♔ c h a p t e r   o n e ♔ ripped jeans and yellow dresses

 

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"You know the plan..." A voice growled close to my ear. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. I knew how to do my job, and I knew how to do it properly. With, or without, anybody’s help. "Are you certain about taking it alone?" My Sector Supervisor's voice echoed against the bare cement walls.

"Yes. Anybody else would hinder my mission." I replied sharply, uncrossing my legs so to stretch them in the hard-backed chair.

"No backup?" A smile twitched at the edges of his thin lips. "Just remember to get the goods."

"The Suou boy. Let nothing compromise my objective."

"Good. Now hurry up - I have no wish to explain to the C.E.O. why our most prized employee is sitting around twidling her thumbs."

"Understood." I looked back down at the photo of the frivolous ‘Host Club’ posing as an overly-dramatic stage show. The tip of my finger brushed the face of a blue-eyed, blonde-haired boy as I analyzed the image. There was a small insigna on the corner of the photo, proudly displaying an OA logo.

"Objective: Ouran Academy." I grinned the grin of a predator.

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I pulled my long, wavy blonde hair into a high ponytail, regarding the yellow school dress spread on my small bed with disgust. The ugly thing even came with stockings. "No way in fucking hell am I wearing this!" I yelled through my tightly closed door.

Heavy combat boots - which I would rather be wearing instead of those weird, brown, slipper things - stomped up the hallway outside my closed door. "No choice. What the boss says, goes." A deep, rasping voice growled.

"Well then, tell him that off is about where I wish he would fuck!" I snapped back, yanking out a pair of ripped, black jeans instead.

A chuckle sounded, followed with a heavy thunk. Most likely that of a body.

"You had something to say to me?" I could sense amusement in the newcomer's voice.

"You heard me." I grumbled. I hate this shit. 

"Oh, yes, loud and clear actually." The voice appeared clearer and I shot a look over my shoulder to my once-closed-now-wide-open door.

"Do you have any concept of knocking, pervert?" I muttered dryly as I stood beside my bed in nothing other than a bra and pair of jeans.

"And miss out on this work piece of art?" He winked, but took the time to look me over too. "I don’t think so." My Supervisor - Jacob Felwright - clicked his fingers and gestured to the door. "Hurry it up, girly."

"Get, out." I ordered as if he hadn't spoken. One of my fists clenched at my waist while the other mimicked his gesture and directed him to the door.

"I’m the boss around here, not you." He rolled his eyes in annoyance but nonetheless returned to the hallway. "Oh, by the way, wear the dress. It'd suit you."

"Fuck you. Never." I snarled and walked over to slam the door behind him. Having this hell hole as your home, day-in-day-out, would piss off anybody. Even me, and I was raised here from a very young age. By that bitch, actually.

However, I couldn't really do much to stop him if he ever wanted to assert his position as my Supervisor - as he could easily sign me up for reeducation... meaning punishment.