Who knew being a host was so complicated?
Maybe if I'd really known what a host club was before agreeing, I'd have been more prepared. Hikaru and Kaoru's half-assed description hardly covered everything.
Apparently, there had been some big announcement about me in the Host Club e-letter, revealing me as Michiyo: The Rebel Type, "suitable for ladies looking for friendship, or more", along with a list of my hobbies and favorite things, which were weirdly accurate.
But no one asked me about "or more".
It was the first thing I complained about to Kyoya after being dolled up, measured, interviewed, photographed, and fingerprinted - all in the name of the club, of course. I beelined for him, frustration rumbling in my gut. "What's this I hear about me being available for 'or more'?" I said, sidling up next to him during my first official host club meeting.
He jotted notes down in his planner, like usual, and he did that thing again where he smiles for less than a second. "Good afternoon to you too." His icy shield slid right back up, blocking out emotions and hormones and anything slightly inconveniencing. "Is that what Hikaru and Kaoru wrote? 'Or more'? Interesting," he mused, "They do seem to have a knack for riling up the customers, so I leave the newsletter to them and Renge nowadays."
"How do you know Renge didn't write it?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and vaguely wondering who Renge was before refocusing on him, "Anyway, I think you're missing the point! No one asked me if I am available for 'or more'!"
"Well, are you, or aren't you?" Kyoya said, raising an eyebrow at me. "It's very simple, Kimura." His pen stalled in his planner, waiting for my answer. His gray eyes focused on me with such intensity that I swear they would shoot lasers if he let them. Or maybe his robot settings wouldn't allow him to use weapons in a room full of customers.
I pouted, my hands propped on my hips. "It's not that simple." He said nothing, waiting for me to elaborate. So I caved. "Well, how do you explain that you have a fake boyfriend as a publicity stunt and that most of the world thinks you're madly in love with the guy, when in reality he's a idiotic windbag with the IQ of a potato?"
Amused, Kyoya began writing in his planner once more, looking out over his host club kingdom. "Fake boyfriend. Got it."
Growling in frustration, I stomped toward Honey and Mori, who I was supposed to spend the day with, stopping and spitting over my shoulder at Kyoya, "I'm not telling you my super good idea for increasing host club profits! You'll have to earn it!"
He laid a hand over his heart like he was touched - or perhaps even slightly wounded - and had the audacity to give me a pitying look.
"UGH!" I grunted and threw up my arms, making my way over to Honey and Mori.
Stupid boys. Stupid host club. Stupid Kyoya Ootori.
Honey grinned when he saw me coming. "Chiyo-kun! Just in time!" He patted the couch cushion beside him, a few of the girls around tittering at the gesture, and said, "We were going to show everyone how to play a game! Wanna pick for us?"
I collapsed on the couch and crossed my legs, glancing from him to Mori. "You guys are okay with me choosing?"
"Newbie picks," Mori said, sliding me a cup of steaming tea across the table.
A smile worked up through me, my frustration with Kyoya melting away like snow in the spring, and I nodded. "Okay, uhhhh," I said, poring over the board games the boys selected and reading the titles carefully, "How about Clue? I've never played that before. Looks fun."
Mori slid the box out of the pile, and the girls around us whispered excitedly, a squeal or a giggle escaping from the crowd here and there.
"What?" I asked, nerves suddenly gnawing on my stomach, "Did I say something wrong?" Of course I'd already fucked it up.
Honey beamed at me and shook his head. "The girls thought up a personality test... the games in the pile are each of the hosts' favorite commoner board games that Haruhi has introduced us to. They wanted to see who you're most like."
"And?"
"Clue is Kaoru's favorite," Honey explained.
A strange hum of excitement filled my chest, and all I said was, "Oh?"
Kaoru, huh?
-
"No Mei today, huh?"
I looked up from the sudsy water, lyrics dying in my throat. Kaoru stood beside me in the immaculate Ouran kitchen, bringing in another load of dirty teacups for me to wash. "Nah," I said with a shrug, "She has a piano recital coming up and needed to practice, so she went home with our driver."
"Too bad," he sighed, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, "I was hoping to teach you guys my favorite board game."
He heard. "You heard."
"I heard." He hopped up on the counter beside me, leaning back against the cupboards and peering down into the soapy water. "How was your first day?"
"Fine, I guess," I admitted with a shrug, "Didn't think I'd be on dish duty so soon, but here we are."
"Here we are," he repeated, voice soft, as if he was thinking about something else as he let his gaze drift up my arms, past my cuffed sleeves, to my shoulders, my curled mint hair, my face. "What were you singing earlier? It was nice."
Pursing my lips, I glanced up at him and placed another clean cup in the drying rack. "You heard that, huh?"
"Sure did," Kaoru beamed, "You've got a talent, Kimura."
Rolling my eyes, I turned back to the dishes, and said, "Pretty sure you can call me Michiyo, but sure, Kaoru... Thanks."
He studied me for a second and hopped down from the counter, digging through a nearby drawer. When he returned, he had a towel in his hands. Shucking his school blazer off, he folded it neatly on a bare counter and began to dry the teacups, cake plates, and saucers I'd already cleaned, putting them away without me asking.
We fell into an easy rhythm, and my mind began to wander, another song bubbling up to my tongue. Without realizing, I began singing again, despite him listening. Usually, my stage fright was so crippling that I couldn't sing in front of anyone unless it was someone I trusted (namely Mei and Ellis; and don't get me started on how weird it was that I could act just fine in front of anyone but not sing)...
So maybe that said something about Kaoru.
Something I couldn't identify or name quite yet.
Kaoru didn't interrupt or comment; he just let me do my thing. I caught him with his eyes closed once, listening, and I tossed a handful of suds at him. He flinched and scoffed, his mouth twisting between a laugh and a frown. Dipping his hand in the soapy water, he flicked me with murky water, making me squeal and dance out of the way. I retaliated with more bubbles, and he fought back.
Soon enough we were soaked through, both of our white button-ups nearly clear with all of the dishwater. Scurrying back to grab more ammo, I slipped on a wayward bubble, and Kaoru caught me before I could smash my face onto the sink, both of us crashing to the tile in a pile of laughter and bruises.
I groaned and propped myself up, climbing off of his prone form. Kaoru's cheeks were flushed, and he avoided my eyes as I helped him back to his feet, brushing a damp chunk of hair away from his eyes. He drained the sink and dried his hands, passing me the towel as he grabbed his blazer, which he draped over my shoulders.
When I raised an eyebrow at him, he responded with a mumbled, "You need it more than I do." He didn't say anything else as he escorted me back to the empty Music Room, grabbed our things, and walked me out to Ellis waiting in the car.
"Thanks Kaoru," I said, pecking him on the cheek, "Dishes with you was the highlight of my day." I slipped into the car, and we pulled away.
Kaoru's startled face - wide eyes, flushed cheeks, fingertips hovering over where I'd kissed him - smeared into a blur against the sunset as we turned out of the Ouran parking lot and into the city. I smiled to myself and settled into my seat, only to make the mistake of meeting Ellis's steely eyes in the rearview mirror.
A chill ran through me from head to toe, and I glanced away.
"Sorry," I said. Though, I wasn't really sure what I was apologizing for.
Ellis cleared his throat and I saw his jaw unclench, muscles working in his face. "I wish you'd be a little more careful, Michiyo. Peoples' feelings aren't playthings."
"I know that."
"It doesn't seem that you do. That poor kid'll probably have a crush on you now, you know. And it isn't fair of you to string him along-"
"STOP!" I screamed, burying my face in my hands. "YOU'RE NOT MY DAD!"
He sighed from behind clenched teeth, and said so quietly that it only intensified the tension, "I certainly hope not, Michiyo."