Kyoya Ootori's Guide to Self-Deception for Fun and Profit

Chapter 10: All I want for Christmas . . . is a KFC

Tokyo: Christmas Day

Tamaki bursts into a spontaneous, joyfully discordant rendition of Beethoven's Ninth as he stands back to admire the magnificent decorations that have taken his household staff the best part of four hours to put up.

They began as soon as his father had left for work, early that morning, accompanied by his grandmother. Christmas falls on a Friday this year, which Tamaki considers a stroke of luck. It's not that he couldn't carry out his plan with his family in the mansion – he scoffs as such minor inconveniences – but at the same time . . . His grandmother does have a very stern look when she thinks he's doing something silly.

"Master Tamaki," Shima says sternly, but he's not finished singing.

He takes her hands and twirls her round. "Da da da da, da da da da, da da da da, daaaaaaaa da da!" he warbles. He doesn't know the words, but he's never let a small thing like that hold him back.

"Master Tamaki," she says, once the twirling has ended. She dances well for a woman pushing ninety.

"Yes?" he says affectionately, and sweeps out a hand to take in the grand entrance-hall of Suoh Mansion #1. "Is this not magnificent?"

Shima sniffs and eyes the decorations with ill-concealed despair. Tamaki is crushed for a moment, before he remembers that she's not in on the plan. OK, OK, so the festive Christmas greenery is a little heavy on the mistletoe, perhaps, but there's at least five percent tinsel in there somewhere. He hasn't overdone it. He's just making sure.

There's a small, soft noise from above their heads, and Tamaki glances up, as if his head's connected by a string. The chandelier is dripping with mistletoe, and as he watches, another berry falls, this time to land squarely in his eye.

"Argh!" he says, but he's distracted by another, more urgent thought. He should kiss . . .

Shima takes a deft sidestep out from under the chandelier. "When are your guests expected?"

Tamaki feels a stab of hurt that she doesn't want him to kiss her. "In an hour," he says with great and pained dignity, only dented somewhat by the way his foot slips on a berry, and it's only by a festive miracle that he doesn't end up on the floor. "Show them through to the dining room if they arrive before I'm ready," he says, raising his chin in the air. "I'm off to change into something more suitable."

Tamaki takes his time dressing in his festive finery. There's a chance that Kyoya and Haruhi won't arrive together, thus rending his chandelier trap useless, but he's not particularly worried. The 'Use The Magnificent and Wondrous Power of Nature to Make Kyoya Kiss Haruhi!' plan doesn't rely on such one-trick tactics. No, Tamaki thinks as he admires himself in his full-length mirror, he's planned for all contingencies. Mistletoe is wired to every ceiling in the entire house. Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible could manage to avoid it; Tamaki is content that talented though Kyoya may be, Tom Cruise he is not.

When he's ready, he troops back down to the hall and sits happily on the bottom stair. As he waits for his guests to arrive, he sighs with contentment. So far, his plan is going swimmingly. Kyoya is back for Christmas – and romance is in the air. It's possible, he thinks with bittersweet pleasure, that Kyoya has already confessed, rendering the mistletoe pointless.

Tamaki sighs again, this time more gustily, and leans his head against the baluster. Last night had been perfection, despite the minor deviations from his original. The problem was, he hadn't bargained on quite how cute Disneyland would be. Hani was the first casualty, wandering off after a Santa-san-suited Minnie Mouse before Mori could stop him. "Sorry," Mori had said, before also vanishing into the night.