Chapter 3 – Apparently, Private Exams Are in the Job Description
It felt good to wake up on a Saturday morning to my personalised alarm tune, especially when I remembered that I wouldn't have to deal with that dreadful Host Club. They'd been working me raw since the day I joined – sending me on silly errands and constantly tossing pages and pages of costume ideas at me.
Hikaru and Kaoru, in particular, had been exhausting me. Along with their ridiculous pranks, the duo often liked to snatch my sketchbook out of my hands and share hushed conversation as they flipped through the pages. It didn't help when I learned that their mother owned the famous Hitachiin clothing brand. I could've crapped in my pants right then and there.
Somehow, I still managed to keep up in my classes, but as the days passed. I could feel my shoulders sagging and my eyelids dropping more and more often. Even short bursts of caffeine did nothing to increase my energy level and, by Friday, I was about ready to break.
Luckily, I managed to hide my struggles.
Throughout the morning, I sauntered along, absentmindedly completing chore after chore. My efforts were half-assed until I'd accidentally dropped one of the bowls, chipping a large piece out of one side. I cursed – I'd have to replace that as soon as possible.
"I suppose it's still usable," I murmured to myself when I inspected it further. It wasn't as though it shattered or had a big crack running through it. "I'll just have to be careful."
I finished washing, drying, and packing away the dishes before I used the wet towel to wipe my forehead a little. The bright sun and clouds showed no chance of rain, and as I stared up into the blue sky, I felt something soft brush my leg.
"What's up, Westly?" I asked, bending down to scratch the back of my Teacup Golden Retriever pup, who, in turn, jumped up into my arms. I caught him with ease and rubbed my cheek against his head, his golden fur tickling my skin. "You're such a spoilt dog."
Not long after, my phone (Kyoya had gotten it for me) rang loudly, the familiar ringtone that I'd set for Kyoya making me sigh and hit my head against the wall. I ignored it and remained where I was, letting Kyoya leave me voicemail after voicemail for about ten minutes.
I sighed. Kyoya wasn't giving up easy, so I eventually snatched the phone off the desk and flipped it open, just barely opening my mouth to speak when Kyoya stated, "There's an emergency with Haruhi, come to this address."
He hung up after speaking the address, one that I faintly recognised, and I quickly changed into my appropriate gear, stuffing what I already had on into my backpack. I sprinted out to my bike, wasting no time in goodbyes and starting the engine.
I raced down the gravel driveway, almost swerving out of control a few times, but soon enough, I was driving down the road. I could feel some strands of hair that escaped my helmet whipping in the wind behind me.
Please, don't let this place be too far away, I prayed in my head when I slowed to a stop to allow a large group of students cross the road. Some I recognised from Ouran Academy, but the majority of them were strangers in different uniforms – uniforms that looked admittedly more comfortable than the vibrant yellow dress.
I thanked my helmet for hiding my face from the crowd and, while the hundreds of students continued to walk at a snail's pace, I took the chance to glance around at my surroundings. Unsurprisingly, I'd ended up on a street of beautiful mansions ranging from the Victorian to the modern age.
A voice in my head that reminded me greatly of Lady Bracknell (from 'The Importance of Being Earnest') jokingly criticised some of the houses. I could just imagine her, sipping her tea with her littlest finger sticking out as she stared in distaste at the tiniest crack in a wall or a couple of dead roses that had been left unclipped.
My entertainment was cut short, however, when I'd noticed that all the students had finally disappeared, leaving the road clear for me to drive on. I drove on slowly, allowing my wonder to get the better of me, and stared in awe at each of the houses.
Up ahead was a side street and, at a closer look, I could read the name on the street sign. I think this is where I'm supposed to go, I thought to myself, recalling the address Kyoya gave me. When I turned the corner, I noticed a few out of place cars lined up along the otherwise empty street, one I recognised to be an abnormally large limo with the Ootori crest boldly painted on the sides.
Identical stone walls stood proud and threateningly tall, separated only by a large, spiked gate situated between two matching stone pillars, the white-grey colour complementing the actual walls themselves, which were a light pink colour. They sorely reminded me of Ouran Academy, leading me to conclude that the massive mansion beyond, as I saw through the bars of the gate, belonged to the Suoh family – they had quite the attachment to the vibrancy of peach pink.
I dragged my hand down a few of the bricks, able to feel how expensive they would have been, especially compared to the sloppy, cheap-as-can-be shack I called a home. I couldn't help but feel minuscule as I consciously toyed with the holes in my gear, each one just as obvious as the last despite the suit being the least ragged item of my wardrobe, and the longer I stood there, the more I wanted to run away.
"How much longer are you going to stand there, Isabella?" asked Kyoya mechanically and I jumped on the spot, my eyes automatically drawn to the source of the crackly sound – he was speaking through a radio attached to a shining, silver keypad.
"Not long?" I said, uncertain as I stood high on the balls of my feet, having approached the radio and started speaking directly into it, unaware of how awkward it must have looked until Kyoya scoffed, bluntly making me aware of how unnecessary the action was. My face flushed, Kyoya always, without any hesitation or doubt in hs confidence, pointed out things others were oblivious to, and he seemed particularly fond of reminding them of their lack of knowledge, often pestering people with his cold, blackmail-like jokes. "Can you let me in now, Kyoya?"
He did so, though not without a prolonged, heavy sigh, and I followed the wide gravel path to the front porch of the building, eyeing the beautifully trimmed trees, hedges, and expensive roses of every colour. Not a single spot was out of place in the scenery, not even the towering tropical palm trees that fell in with the season, a small clearing parting the order to make room for a crystal white fountain.
"Wow," I said in awe, hesitantly roaming across the recently mowed grass to press my palm to the marble, running my fingers along the smooth structure, feeling not a single crevice or scratch. Three statues stood proudly in the centre of the large fountain, carved perfectly to the stray hairs of the youngest's head, who looked affectionately up at the other two beside him.
"That's the young Master Tamaki, Miss Ayakushi," called a voice from behind me, one belonging to an elderly man. I jumped, quickly withdrawing my hand from touching the marble. "It's quite alright, Miss. You're not the first to be drawn to the Suoh fountain." His face wrinkled (even more than it already was, I dared not to think) when his lips pulled into a wide smile.
"The l-little boy is Suoh-Senpai?"
He nodded, striding forth to stand beside me at the foot of the fountain. "His father's quite enthusiastic to have a new fountain built, as is the Lady of the House, but Master Tamaki will always be insistent on keeping this one."
"Come," he said after a moment's silence. "The young Master has been awaiting your presence for the past half hour." I followed him into the house, finding myself glancing back just a few times at the magnificent fountain. The large door was opened for the both of us, and my attention focused on the glittering, palace-like room beyond. There were multiple chandeliers secured to the high roof above, and I swear that I could see diamonds encrusted in them as well as in the designs on the walls; the marble fountain outside had nothing on this.
Even more hesitant to step onto the reflective tile, fearing I would dirty it, I quickly dropped down on the concrete porch to pull my boots off my feet. I could see, out of the corner of my eye, that the maids of the house were looking at me oddly, but they thankfully said nothing at my display.
Apparently, their mannerisms mattered more than stopping someone from making a fool of themselves.
I stood, shyly shuffling into the Victorian-styled manor noiselessly, thanks to my socks and lack of shoes. "H-hi," I said, awkwardly giving the maids before me a small wave. They each nodded respectively, none of them speaking a single word. I shrunk in my place. Had I done something wrong; was I not supposed to talk to them?
"They won't speak unless told to," spoke a familiar voice, one I was both dreading and relieved to hear. I looked up at the top of the staircase – it was on the far side of the room and extravagant in every way with its polished handrails and red-carpeted steps – and Kyoya stood there in all his glory, he seemed to fit right in with the over-the-top décor. He descended the steps as he said, "A rather unfortunate trait for the staff themselves, but Tamaki's grandmother has always appreciated the quiet. "Silence is golden," I think the saying is."
I wriggled my toes in my socks, awkwardly turning them in.
He smirked when he reached the bottom of the stairs, flipping open his notebook and tapping noisily on the page. "You dawdled outside for far too long. We've lost valuable time in discussing our current dilemma." He leant against the intricately designed pillar at the bottom of the steps, instinctively wrapping his hand around the ball-shaped starting newel.
We stood staring at each other despite what he'd just said, his eyes glaring deep into mine. His nicely groomed fringe fell out of place after a short moment, but I only tore my gaze away from his when he began to walk toward me. I studied his appearance, taking in the expensive get up and how well it suited him; the large, dark peacoat fit him comfortably, and the grey scarf tied in the front (Sherlock Holmes style) covered the bottom of his chin. Just barely visible, beneath the designer gear, was a plain, white dress shirt and black pants held up by a belt.
"Do you even know why you're here? I'm sure I told you over the phone."
"S-something to do with H-Haruhi. An emergency, you said," I replied, unsure of myself.
He sighed. "I suppose calling it an emergency was a bit of a stretch, but I'm interested in how this will pan out. Tamaki will give you an amusing explanation, I'm sure." He spun on the heel of his shoe, his signature smirk plastered on his face.
Thundering steps came from overhead, and a loud voice screamed my name no lighter when a flash of white and gold came soaring dangerously down the staircase. It skidded to a halt in front of Kyoya and me, revealing itself to be none other than Tamaki – wearing his uniform shirt along with bright pink pyjama pants, might I add – panting and shoving Kyoya aside to almost brutally pushing his nose into mine.
We stared, eye to eye, and I only just resisted the temptation to giggle, there being something oddly amusing about having an intense staring contest at such a close distance. "Isabella!" he finally cried out, the squeakiness and loudness of his voice making my insides twist. He threw his arms around me in, what he probably called, a hug, with his body crushing mine as he lifted me off the ground and began spinning me around in circles – I could easily sympathise with how much Haruhi seemed to hate it. He'd also pinned my arms to my sides.
All in all, it was turning out to be a horrible day.
He finally put me down – and I swear it was at least ten minutes later – to distastefully assess my outfit, eyeing the stitched in patches of mismatched fabrics that left only small areas of the original material to show.
"Why do you always wear such dark, disturbing colours?!" he complained melodramatically, even pressing the back of his hand against his forehead like a damsel in distress. "You should dress more like the lovely rose you are!" I could only stare on in pity at his antics, thinking that his exaggerated kindness must be compensation of some sort... not that his constant comments on my clothing could ever be considered kind.
"You know that Tamaki means well, Isabella," said Kyoya with a deep sigh, his fingers delicately sliding his glasses up his nose as they'd started to slip. "Although it would appear that he has a psychosomatic allergy to everything you wear." He laughed, I hummed amusedly.
"Oh, we wouldn't say that!" came a pair of voices that were almost identical, and it didn't take a brain to figure out who was speaking. Hikaru and Kaoru revealed themselves through a side door, both wearing the same outfit, though one donned a scarf with vertical stripes while the other wore a scarf with horizontal stripes – not to mention that they were tied differently, with vertical's wrapped loosely around their head and horizontal's knotted at the neck.
A bouncing boy in pink followed, who, as always, proceeded the towering figure of Takashi. "Tama-Chan doesn't like any dark clothes!"
"It's true. I wore all black once..." began Hikaru.
"...It didn't end well," finished Kaoru.
Kyoya appeared directly behind me, something I think he took joy in doing, saying, "Indeed. To make a long story short, he freaked out." If I'd been paying attention, I might've laughed, but I was distracted by the strange feeling of Kyoya's breath on the back of my neck. It was warm and awkward, sending a weird shiver down my spine, and I was 99 percent sure he was doing it on purpose.
I could only smile, though I'm sure it looked more like a grimace, and attempt a small laugh. "T-that's kinda funny." I released the breath I hadn't known I'd been holding, but the knot in my stomach that came with social interaction only twisted, harshly tightening and making me feel sick.
"Now. Down to business," said Kyoya loudly, resting his hand on the small of my back to lightly push me up the stairs.
I could feel his finger twitching through my clothes.
We were lead into a large room just down the first hall of the second floor, and I struggled to understand just how Tamaki managed to memorise where all the rooms were – everything looked identical to me.
I glanced awkwardly around at the others, wondering if I was the only one that had no clue as to what was going on. The intense silence was somewhat overbearing, but soon enough the whiteboard situated at the head of the table was spun around furiously, almost hitting Kyoya in the head as Tamaki, who'd spent the last few minutes drawing and writing on said board, proudly presented his work.
It was pitiful to look at, especially the Kanji across the top. It was awfully translated and even in the wrong order to a point where (I think) Tamaki himself couldn't read it. I couldn't help the words that flew out of my mouth: "Did you use Google translate?"
The laughter that ensued was loud, probably somewhat exaggerated too, and I could see tears streaming down the twins' faces. Blood rushed to my cheeks, I stared down at my lap in embarrassment, and only glanced up once to see Tamaki standing still as a statue, his mouth agape and his eyes filled to the brim with tears as well. Oh, well, he's always crying at the littlest things. What's one more?
I could've giggled at my short burst of courage, but I didn't. Instead, I silently apologised only by shooting Tamaki a certain, well-practiced look.
"Don't be such a sook, Mommy," Kyoya said, using his infamous notebook to whack the aforementioned "Mommy" on his head. In an instant, the boy stopped crying, and I averted my attention elsewhere, studying the intricate design of the room. Each object held it's simplicity, but on closer inspection, there was always something to contrast, whether it be a delicately painted rose wrapped in loose vines or something else entirely. Just beneath the windows, on the small sections that were as wide as the windows themselves, were symmetrical patterns that stretched across the wall horizontally: in the centre was a rose in full bloom, and on the ends were identical buds. It was like seeing the phases of the moon lined up in a row.
I took some time to appreciate the arches as well, two small and one large, separating the squareness of the room and the rounded window space. I found them pleasant to look at, the simplicity of the paint job, which was plain in comparison to the overall designs.
Someone, in the far distance, cleared their throat. I ignored it, still entranced by the beautiful room, even if I could only spare an appreciative stare at the one area. It was a loud coughing sound this time, and I, feeling rather embarrassed, quickly focused my attention on the whiteboard once more, trying not to grimace at the writing.
"Right, then," said Kyoya in an unconvinced tone – he must have thought my head was still in the clouds. "As most of us know, the school's physical exams are coming up soon and Haruhi... well, Haruhi's a girl dressed as a boy to pay off a debt. Of course, no one other than those who are in this room knows about this, and we must ensure that no one else ever will."
"If everyone finds out that Haru-Chan's a girl, she'll never want to eat cake with us again!"
"I don't think that's an issue right now, Honey-Senpai. Think of how lonely we'd be without our toy!"
I could only turn my head back and forth from Mitsukuni, who gripped Takashi's arm while on the verge of crying, to the twins as they bickered, each of them prioritising all of the wrong things. Over to the side, held back by Kyoya, was a kicking and screaming Tamaki. I couldn't make out much of what he was saying, but I did recognise a few choice words that could've put a drunken idiot to shame.
The group of boys finally set to work after the chaos (somewhat) settled while I watched dumbly, trying to keep up with the constant jeers, shouts, and interruptions – and trying to tell the twins apart was too much of a hassle that made my head spin. Something came up about disguises and a wig, but after a moment of thought, I could've sworn that Kyoya had once mentioned something about private nursing facilities situated throughout the school.
"Um, T-Tamaki?" I raised my hand hesitantly, although one quick shake of the head from Kyoya encouraged me to remain silent, so I quickly retracted my hand as I awkwardly said, "Nevermind."
Kyoya, who pushed up his glasses yet again, grinned – well, he would have if it weren't for the fact that he could barely muster anything other than a smirk – as he sent a subtle nod in my direction. I had a feeling he was planning something and, from what I knew of my fiancé, I knew it wouldn't be a cupcake party (something Honey suggested for a reason unknown to me).
I hadn't noticed that he'd casually strolled around the table to my side until he'd said, "I think I'll be intrigued to see how Tamaki gets out of this one when it crumbles. Being labelled as the "Homosexual Supporting Cast" is not something I appreciate," his malicious tone almost startling me out of my seat.
OHSHC – OHSHC – OHSHC
I gently chewed my fingertips out of habit, waiting in a lone line that stretched out far behind me. The physical exams had arrived sooner than I'd expected, and I felt self-conscious standing with all the girls far richer than me, each of them able to afford to flaunt how they looked. Not far from where I stood, I could see a small crowd gathering around a mess of red hair – the twins had stripped each other of their shirts – and screaming themselves hoarse with delight.
Avid for anything else to look at, I hurriedly averted my flushed stare to see none other than Kyoya, who stood comfortably next to Takashi and Honey, with no shirt on as well. An even deeper heat travelled up my neck, burning at my ears as said boy looked over to smirk at my gaze. A Doctor poked and prodded at his body, thoroughly measuring his entire body while onlookers gaped and drooled. There were even some girls nearby eagerly whispering amongst themselves.
"How does Kyoya stay so fit? I'm pretty sure he doesn't take any sports classes."
"What if he does wrestling in his spare time?" one girl with a particularly annoying voice asked.
The first girl scoffed, "What are you even talking about, Yuna?" The others in the circle seemed to agree that the second girl was out of her mind (something I would've gladly endorsed if I was part of the conversation and not eavesdropping) and they, all in sync, ganged up on her. She shrunk back slightly.
"Well, I mean, it makes sense! Just imagine it!" I closed my eyes, but no thought of Kyoya Ootori even breaking a sweat, let alone wrestling, came to mind. It was simply unimaginable. "Kyoya's the kind of guy that pulls your hair in the sandbox because he likes you, yeah?" The others nodded. "Think about it for a second: another boy starts picking on you and Kyoya runs in to save the day, winning the girl of his dreams in a fight to the death with the naughty boy! It's perfect!"
All of them sighed dreamily while the mere thought of it all made me want to gag – not to mention that I could almost even see the scene playing out over their heads, ending with Kyoya swooping whatever girl into a sickly sweet kiss. I decided I'd keep the thought locked away in the back of my mind. I knew Tamaki would somehow hear about it if I told someone and that would end in yet another fight between him and Kyoya, though it'd be one-sided, considering Tamaki's power complex and Kyoya's unwillingness to fight.
Speak of the devil, Tamaki himself appeared at my side, enthusiastically throwing his arm around my shoulders as he rambled about some nonsense or other. He led me over to where the other Hosts were sitting, some with their clothes still partially undone for audience entertainment. Even Kyoya had shed his jacket and tie – something I could never imagine him doing.
"Ah, Isabella," said Kyoya dryly, turning the attention from Haruhi to me, and I shuffled uncomfortably. "We're just about to commence Tamaki's plan. Please, do have a seat, we've much to discuss." He patted the spot on the couch beside him, giving me that demanding glare from behind his spectacles; I knew I'd have to sit down or there'd probably be hell to pay later.
He hesitantly, at the oddly close stare of the twins and Tamaki, placed his hand on his lap, angling it just so that his fingertips touched mine. I could feel him twitch slightly at the contact, but his face remained unchanged as he gave a forced smile to the others.
"What are you d-doing?"
"Oh, you're not happy with this either? That's fine, then. See, Tamaki, I told you... the arrangement is strictly business related." He quickly retracted his hand, resulting in the exhalation of a held breath from me and a sigh of relief from him. His touch, despite it only being his fingertips just barely sitting on top of my own, froze me right to the core.
The blonde, however, was fuming. "IF YOU WANT A MARRIAGE TO WORK, YOU HAVE TO HAVE LOVE!" he cried, pointing at us, though while I quickly glanced around, not knowing what to do, Kyoya was indifferent. Another thing neither of us had in common: the ability to stay calm in the line of fire.
"And who is getting married?" Kyoya responded darkly. That did it. Tamaki knew he'd crossed a line this time, and he'd barely managed to squeak out a reply ("Absolutely no one!") as he scrambled to the plump armchair furthest from the dark-haired demon. "I won't have you spilling my current relationship status," he spat the words like they were poison on his lips, "so you'd do well to keep your mouth shut, Suoh."
To say the others were shocked was an understatement. Hell, even I was shitting bricks – Kyoya had never been that angry before, not even when his father made threats on his future or deeply insulted him, which usually ended with a scream of anguish and him punching his pillow multiple times.
The time we had was gradually getting shorter, so I gently tapped on Kyoya's shoulder, ignoring the horrifying aura he seemed to emit. "What," he snapped, whipping his head around to face me, his anger still evident in his eyes until he'd properly looked at me. "Oh, right, I need to tell you something."
"You'll be examined privately with Haruhi in another room. Of course, she won't be joining you until this ridiculous plan of Tamaki's collapses in on itself," he whispered into my ear. To anyone else, he probably looked like he was flirting (I wouldn't know, I couldn't exactly watch), but I could almost literally feel his evil smirk. I had to smile too, though, since I knew Tamaki would forgive him soon enough – he was setting up a private checkup to keep Haruhi's identity a secret, after all.
It was only a few minutes of golden silence later that the nurse called on Haruhi and the so-called elaborate plan was executed, with Honey and Mori even attempting to cosplay as Doctors to distract the poor girl. She was soon whisked away behind a curtain by the King himself, and the ordeal would have been swoon-worthy if not for the second half of the plan, which consisted of Tamaki in a wig trying to pull off an awful high-pitched voice.
To make a long story short, he ended up with a very red face after Haruhi dealt with him behind closed doors (well, technically it was behind a curtain). Luckily for her, none of the boy's fan club heard the slap.
"Time to go," Kyoya said, getting up from his place and wandering over to Haruhi's changing stall with me at his heels, flexing up and down on my toes as the announcement sounded overhead.
"Will Fujioka, Haruhi and Ayakushi, Isabella-Grace please make their way immediately to the private clinic in the South Hall? Again, will..." the message repeated and I turned at a tap on my shoulder. It was Haruhi, offering her arm for me to take, which I reluctantly accepted before we headed off with Kyoya, who was to direct us.
When we left the crowded room, something that made me breathe a quiet sigh of relief, Haruhi thanked Kyoya. Of course, being Kyoya, he replied with, "It was only necessary. You do have a debt to pay off – a debt your children's children will be paying if we have to make you our "Dog" again. I, for one, think that's far too much of a hassle to deal with, so this was the only option that came to mind."
She looked up at him, far too mesmerised to be concerned with the jab at her being a commoner. "Did you know Tamaki's plan would fail?"
"Of course, but what he doesn't know can't hurt him in this case. I am neither gay nor Tamaki's supporting cast." He grinned almost maniacally. "Revenge is a sweet thing, is it not?"
The crossdresser beside me was stunned while I shrugged indifferently. It wasn't the first time Kyoya allowed Tamaki to be publicly humiliated, and it wouldn't be the last time either, especially not when he made jabs at his friend's "inferiority," despite said friend being the reason the Host Club was even stable financially. Although I had to admit that thinking about it sometimes made my head spin – it was like watching a baby throw its rattle then crying when it realised it was gone.
"Here we are." He gestured flippantly, looking almost as bored as his tone suggested, at the large double doors, which then opened to reveal a temporary clinic set up. There were two changing stalls – one for each of us, I guessed – and a single nurse stationed at a small desk littered with papers, pens, a laptop, and a lamp. "Do be hasty, Haruhi. After all, you have many scheduled clients today."
The nurse turned at our entrance and smiled broadly. "Miss Fujioka, Miss Ayakushi," she spoke with a slight lisp. "I've been made aware of your situations. Please, use the stalls to undress so we can begin your measurements."
I offered to have my examination first – mostly because Haruhi seemed far more uncomfortable than myself – and quickly disrobed behind the curtain until I wore only my bra (nothing spectacular to stare at, I assure you) and bike shorts. The nurse frowned at my body, and she seemed hesitant to speak while I stared at myself in the full-length mirror.
"Miss Ayakushi..."
I nodded for her to continue. False happiness might have pleased the other girls in the school, but I was more than ready to hear what she had to say.
"You have quite the thin frame... uh... What are your eating habits?"
I shrugged. "I eat fine. It's j-just that, sometimes, I forget to, you know? I don't get hungry that often, especially not when I'm b-busy." It was the truth. I knew my ribs were almost protruding and that I looked dangerously frail, but that was just how I'd been my entire life.
She wrote a few things down, that frown never leaving her face. "Does your family have a history of eating disorders such as anorexia?" And there it was. The inevitable question that frustrated me, that stupid question that everyone always asked.
"No. I just don't get hungry," I said, dark and without a single stutter. "I don't have a disorder. I'm not scared to gain weight. I just physically can't because I've never eaten as much as other people." The nurse could only nod with her jaw slightly dropped, and the moment she finished poking, prodding, measuring, and listening to my heart beat, I hastily retreated. I forced the curtain shut behind me and sunk to the floor, my back against the wall and my knees to my chest.
Suddenly, there was a quickly muffled shriek in the stall beside me. I stiffened, seeing a second, much larger shadow on the floor of Haruhi's stall. Only seconds later, however, there were multiple pairs of thundering footsteps and familiar voices, so I quickly grabbed my tank top that I wore over my bra and pulled it on.
"Are you alright?" asked a determined, panting Kyoya as he pulled the curtain open. "He didn't come in here, did he?" He almost sounded jealous, but I knew better than to think that he'd waste time with something so trivial. A quick glance down at my attire did bring a light pink to his cheeks, and he averted his eyes as he shrugged off the jacket he'd probably only just put on only to hold it out in front of him. "Wear this."
I stood to take the jacket, wasting no time in wrapping around my body before stepping out of the stall behind Kyoya, who still refused to lay his eyes on me, though that only plagued my mind until I caught sight of the struggling, scruffy man tied up on the floor. I gasped.
"Don't get the wrong idea! I'm not a pervert!" I raised an eyebrow, not sure whether to believe him or not. It seemed a little silly for a pervert to try and sneak a peak at some elite girls with security guards running around everywhere, but, at the same time, the Host Club often managed to attract every danger known to man.
"My name is Yabu. I'm trying to find my daughter – she attends school here – so I can see her just one more time. The truth is: I can't say no to people, I have no idea how to manage money, and the debts are through the roof. My wife left with my daughter a while ago because of my IOUs." His words struck a small chord with me, and I felt compelled to listen to him, even though it was a little strange that a man in so much debt could afford to send his daughter to a private academy. "I was mistaken as a Doctor for the students when I arrived."
The twins sighed. "Well, you are wearing a lab coat."
Kyoya, who'd been oddly quiet for a while (it was unlike him not to speak up during an interrogation), finally spoke up. "Does your daughter go to Ourin Public Highschool? Because this is Ouran Academy, a private institution."
The man's jaw dropped. "I'm in the wrong school?!"
"Kyoya," demanded Tamaki, "please, find a map to Ourin. I want to help this man find his daughter."
"Whatever you say."
I shared a look with Haruhi, one of impatience and irritation. The both of us were still half-dressed, after all, and it was starting to get a bit awkward. "C-Can you leave now?" we asked at the same time, something she had a good giggle about later on, and the boys were confused at first until Haruhi pointed out our state of dress.
"I love how cute you are, Haruhi!"
"Who cares! Will you guys just get out of here already?!"
I sighed, watching through one of the large windows as Tamaki waved off Doctor Yabu. Unsurprisingly, it all turned out to be no different to any other day. Hopefully, everything would settle down for the next one, but I highly doubted the chance.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Haruhi eyeing me with concern. "Haruhi, I promise you. I don't have a disorder. Except for my st-stutter, I suppose. Today was an okay day."
"How so?" she asked.
"It's not every day that Tamaki talks to a commoner without dramatising their situation." I allowed myself to smile a little bit, and, however fleeting, I let the moment of happiness rush through me. Turning around, I saw Haruhi stifling giggles, and I soon joined in, relishing in the full-blown laughter that followed.
Yes, it was an okay day indeed.
PT