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honeysunai · 7 months

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Hostess| Kyoya Ootori x reader

Part nine - Test of courage

Pairing : Kyoya Ootori x reader

Word Count : 4k

General rating : Fluff, enemies to love vibes

Summary: As only heir to your family you are bound to an arranged marriage with the third son of the powerful house Ootori. His cold behavior is only a mask for you to uncover when you stumble into music room number three.

You let out a long and bored sigh as you look at a blank paper in front of you. Tamaki assigned you to write ideas for the Halloween event the Host Club wants to host, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss and how eager Kyoya was and then returned to pretending you were just classmates. You were angry and yet… You only wanted him to kiss you all over again.

It was infuriating. No. He was.

“What about a cult of vampires thirsty for the blood of their guests.” Tamaki explodes as if he found the best idea of all time. Ew. Blood, no thanks.

“This sounds too erotic even for us.” You chuckle.

“Well, you haven’t written anything on that paper so I’m giving you some ideas to make that brain of yours work.” He chuckles while patting the top of your hair.

The door busted open with the twins and Haruhi glued to their side. Kaoru spoke up first. “For the entire week, count us out.”

The mortifying expression on Tamaki’s face made you hold back a laugh. “What do you mean “us”? Why is Haruhi going with you?”

“We have a tournament on Halloween night, a test of courage.” She mumbles as if she thought it was the dumbest idea, it might as well be.

“And she is on our team.” Hikaru snickers. “She is in our class, afterall.” They both dramatically turn around and leave.

“Does this mean we cancel our event?” You ask quite eagerly for Tamaki’s response.

“This means we are going to participate in their little tournament.” His gaze never leaves the trio of second years. You grunt loudly.

Tamaki’s genius plan was in preparation while you sat on a bench drinking tea with Mori. Your leg was bouncing rapidly out of anxiety.

“You seem tense.” Kyoya said, his eyes still focused on his computer screen. “I can smell the tension steaming.”

“Ew.” You scoff. “I'm not tense," you retorted.

“What's bothering you then? Are you scared?" Tamaki chuckled.

“No, I just don't see the point in scaring people," you mumbled.

Honey took a seat beside you and flashed a bright smile. “It's not just about that. You have a lot of candies too!"

“That's a valid point," you conceded. "While you two brilliant minds work on your plan, I'll make my exit. I've got some personal matters to attend to."

“Why's that?" Kyoya asked abruptly, turning his gaze towards you.

“It's not something you need to worry about," you replied with a quick smile before making your way out of the music room. In truth, you weren't busy at all; all your studies and homework were already completed. You simply wished to avoid the Halloween preparations. As you strolled through the school, you sought out an empty music room where you could indulge in a bit of cello before the next class.

After leaving the music room, you headed down the corridor in search of an empty space to practice your cello. As you walked, you couldn't help but overhear snippets of excited chatter from various students discussing the Halloween preparations. It seemed that the Host Club's Halloween event was generating quite a buzz.

Finally, you found an empty and peaceful practice room. You entered and set up your cello, finding comfort in the familiar strains of the instrument. As you began to play, the hauntingly beautiful melody filled the room, creating a serene atmosphere that provided a stark contrast to the bustling excitement of Halloween preparations.

Unbeknownst to you, a familiar figure from the Host Club had been silently trailing you. Haruhi, who had been observing your interactions with the other members, had sensed your need for a break from the chaotic festivities. She had followed you discreetly, understanding that you preferred solitude.

Leaning against the doorframe, Haruhi listened to your enchanting music. The sound of the cello captivated her, and she was moved by the depth of emotion in your playing. She watched you with a soft smile, appreciating the chance to see a different side of you.

When you eventually finished your piece, you turned to find Haruhi standing there, a gentle and understanding look in her eyes. She didn't say anything, but her presence was enough to convey her support and empathy.

“Be ready, Tamaki is taking part in your Tournament.”

She smiles. “This means you will as well?”

“Obviously.” You snort.

With that, the two of you spent a little more time chatting, and finding common ground amidst the chaos of the Host Club's Halloween preparations. It was a welcome and unexpected connection that brought a sense of calm to an otherwise hectic day.

On Halloween night

You entered the ball room and noticed the dark ambiance. In the middle you could see makeup and costumes ready to be worn.

You sigh. “Did you really ask the occult club to help us?”

“They are professionals afterall.” Tamaki says proudly. “Who else but the Occult Club to know what is scary or not?” He had a fair point.

You were grabbed by two girls and forced to sit down on a chair. You couldn’t protest before their work started. They Had their makeup brushes ready with pink and white paint. “It’s too late to say no, right?” You ask anyone before the first stroke of white paint touches your skin. At the same time the other girl worked over your hair. Two pigtails wrapped in red ribbons. It felt like forever until you could see yourself in the mirror. You were going to be a creepy little creepy lolitta doll.

“Good god.” You scoff as you look at yourself with your regular uniform, you look silly.

“Do you not like it?” Nekozawa asked in a grim tone. To be fair, you were a bit freaked out by him and so you lied.

“I love it. I’m just not used to it.” You smile as best as you can, but you look creepy nonetheless.

“Good!” He smiles. Even if he was happy, his smile was creepy. “We got the perfect costume to fit with your marvelous character. “The cursed doll!” It was like thunder cracked at the same time he spoke those very words.

You looked in the mirror and couldn't help but feel that you appeared terrifying – and not in a good way. The worn-out pink and white puffy dress you wore was splattered with fake blood in a chaotic pattern. You imagined your mother would have a heart attack if she saw you in this outfit.

Emerging from the dressing room, you joined your Host Club friends in the ballroom. Tamaki, in his dashing vampire costume, looked unfairly handsome. Mori and Honey, dressed as a pair of werewolves straight out of a telenovela, exuded a certain charm. Kyoya, on the other hand, had chosen not to dress up.

With a stoic expression, you couldn't help but voice your frustration. "I hate you guys."

"Don't you look terrifying?" Kyoya quipped with a barely suppressed laugh.

You glared at him. "And don't you guys look cute?"

"Do you think so?" Honey's smile was radiant.

"Why am I the only one overdressed?" You grumbled.

Tamaki, wrapping an arm over your shoulders, smiled as he explained, "You are the dessert to our coup."

"I don't think that's a saying," you retorted. He led you out of the ballroom and into a classroom tucked away in the far corner of the school.

"Stay here until Honey gives you the signal. Here's your script," Tamaki said, handing you a crumpled piece of paper before closing the door, leaving you alone in the dark room.

"Ugh, I hate them," you muttered to yourself, closing your eyes and reading the poorly written script. It lacked any real scare factor. Your best bet was to simply scream at anyone who entered the room or adopt a lifeless stare to unnerve them.

As you sat in the dark room, dressed in your creepy Lolita costume, time seemed to crawl by at an agonizingly slow pace. The initial excitement of transforming into a terrifying character had given way to boredom and restlessness. Your once-eager anticipation for your role had faded into a growing sense of impatience.

You began to fidget in your chair, the minutes stretching into what felt like hours. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the occasional distant laughter and muffled voices from the Halloween event outside. The worn-out pink and white dress seemed to constrict your movements, making you acutely aware of how uncomfortable and itchy it had become.

You sighed deeply, shifting your weight from side to side, trying to ease the discomfort of your costume. Your thoughts wandered, and you began to wonder if you were somehow forgotten or if the Host Club's plan had encountered an unexpected delay. The desire for some action or interaction had grown stronger with each passing minute.

Impulsively, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone, checking the time. It had been far longer than you'd expected, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exasperation. To alleviate your boredom, you began scrolling through your phone, reading messages, and checking social media, all while anxiously waiting for Honey's signal to finally break the monotony of your solitary confinement.

The door creaked open and you looked at who it was not bothering to hide back your phone.

“This is really not your shade.” Kyoya snickers as he enters the room.

“Laugh all you want.” You sigh. He looked at you as if to say “Oh, I am.”, “What are you doing here?”

“Keeping you from dying of boredom.” He took a seat next to you on the floor.

“My phone was already doing your job.” You chuckle lightly.

“You really don’t like Halloween, don’t you?”

"Not really, no," you began, reflecting on your past. "When I was a kid, my parents were so busy with their own lives and jobs that they never had time for Halloween, or even Christmas some years. By the time they started to be more present, I just didn't care that much anymore about the holidays."

Kyoya sighed deeply, and you could see his thoughtful expression as he absorbed the glimpse of your personal history.

As the seconds ticked by, you found yourself pondering why you had shared such a personal memory with Kyoya. It wasn't something you typically opened up about, especially not in the midst of a festive occasion like Halloween. Perhaps it was the quiet and the stillness of the room that had encouraged the spontaneous revelation. Or maybe it was Kyoya's ability to make you feel strangely comfortable discussing your past. Regardless of the reason, you couldn't help but wonder why you had chosen to reveal a part of yourself at that moment.

“Then let’s go.” He said as he grabbed your hand to help you out of your creepy chair.

“Where?”

“I’m going to show you what’s so fun about it.”

Kyoya led you out of the dimly lit room and into the corridor, your hand still in his firm grip. You followed him through the maze-like hallways of the school, unsure of what to expect.

As you moved stealthily through the school, you couldn't help but have reservations about this endeavor. The idea of scaring people had never really appealed to you, and you had doubts about whether it would be as fun as the others made it out to be. But you trusted Kyoya's judgment, and his air of confidence piqued your curiosity.

The two of you took positions in a dimly lit hallway, concealed behind a corner, waiting for your next victim. Your heart raced as you watched a student approaching, completely unaware of your presence.

In perfect coordination, you and Kyoya executed your plan. As the student drew nearer, you let out a spine-chilling, ghostly wail while Kyoya produced an eerie, spectral light using a concealed flashlight. The student, taken aback and startled, screamed in terror before realizing it was all a prank.

At first, you watched with mixed emotions, uncertain of how the student would react. But as the initial shock and fear gave way to laughter and amusement, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and satisfaction. Giggling uncontrollably, you and Kyoya shared in the joy of the moment.

You and Kyoya ventured further into the school, your Lolita doll costume taking on a new persona with each scare. The initial uncertainty you had felt had given way to a sense of exhilaration and a growing enthusiasm for the Halloween shenanigans.

As you reached a more crowded area of the school, you couldn't resist the temptation to continue your mischief. You spotted a group of students engrossed in conversation and laughter, unaware of your presence. Kyoya nodded at you, signaling that this was your next target.

You approached the group with a silent grace, the ruffled layers of your dress swaying as you moved. As you got closer, you unleashed a spine-tingling, ghostly whisper that seemed to echo through the corridor. Simultaneously, Kyoya, hidden in the shadows, conjured a ghostly blue glow that danced eerily around you.

The students, caught off guard by the sudden otherworldly presence, let out a collective gasp and huddled together in fear. A few of them even dropped their belongings in their fright.

You couldn't help but stifle a giggle as you watched their terrified reactions. Some clutched their hearts, while others playfully scolded each other for overreacting. The initial shock gave way to laughter, and you realized that this was the essence of Halloween – a blend of fear and fun.

One of the students, a young girl, turned to you with a mixture of relief and amusement. "That was a good one! You really got us."

You gave a mischievous curtsy, your creepy Lolita persona adding to the theatrics of the moment. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

As you and Kyoya roamed the dimly lit corridors, you noticed a locked door at the end of a long hallway, illuminated only by the faint light of a flickering overhead bulb. It seemed like the perfect setting for a dramatic and hair-raising Halloween scare.

With a shared nod, you and Kyoya decided to orchestrate a chilling performance. You took your position near the door, hidden in the shadows, your Lolita doll costume transformed into a ghostly and eerie presence.

Kyoya, meanwhile, prepared to unleash his talents. With a quick flourish of his hand, he projected a series of ghostly images on the door, each one more terrifying than the last. The ghostly apparitions danced and flickered, accompanied by spine-tingling whispers that filled the air.

Unsuspecting students rounded the corner and came into view, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. As they approached the locked door, they spotted the ghostly figures and heard the haunting whispers. Panic washed over them, and they let out a chorus of terrified screams.

In their panic, the students stumbled over each other, desperately searching for an escape route. Some of them turned and ran back the way they came, while others frantically pounded on the locked door, pleading for it to open. The once-crowded hallway turned into a scene of chaotic terror.

You and Kyoya couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline as the students fled in sheer panic, their fear evident in their eyes. It was the ultimate Halloween scare, and you had succeeded beyond your wildest expectations.

As the commotion gradually subsided and the corridor returned to a state of calm, you exchanged an exhilarated glance with Kyoya. The dramatic scare had left a lasting impression, and you both couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

You finally got what made this activity so enjoyable, and you couldn't help but share a knowing smile with Kyoya as you continued to haunt the hallways together.

As your Halloween night of spooking students continued, Kyoya approached you with an excited glint in his eyes. "How about a grand finale?" he suggested, a mischievous smile on his face. Curious and eager to embrace the festive spirit, you nodded in agreement. "What do you have in mind?" Kyoya explained his plan, which involved a grand scare that would target none other than the notorious twins with Haruhi. It was an enticing proposition, and you both set off to make it happen.

You ran around the school to find the trio and once you did they were walking to their next trap, you.

You began to move in a slow, puppet-like manner, as if controlled by unseen strings, your joints bending unnaturally, your movements otherworldly. You swayed with an eerie grace, creating an atmosphere of surreal horror.

At the same time, Kyoya cast an illusion of ghostly whispers and phantom shadows that danced around you. The effect was haunting and mesmerizing, and the corridor seemed to take on a life of its own.

The twins and Haruhi watched, transfixed by the chilling performance. Hikaru and Kaoru exchanged uneasy glances, and Haruhi clutched her heart in mock fear.

As the performance reached its climax, you let out another spine-chilling wail, your voice echoing through the corridor. The twins were quite uneasy with you as for Haruhi, she held back a laugh to not mess up your performance. They weren’t moving until you stopped abruptly before sprinting for them, making them run away from you leaving Haruhi alone with you.

“Too bad I wasn’t convincing enough to scare you.” You laugh with Haruhi.

“I do not scare easily.” She says drying her tears of laughter. Kyoya came out of hiding and applauded you.

“I didn’t think you’d enjoy yourself that much.” He smiles brightly. A first.

“All thanks to the brains behind the operation.” You applauded him as well.

Later that night as you were taking out your makeup with Renge and Haruhi’s help, the winners were announced by Nekozawa. You were declared the champion of the Tournament!

Gasps of astonishment filled the room as the Host Club members realized the outcome. Hikaru and Kaoru exchanged surprised glances.

"You weren't even participating!" Kaoru exclaimed.

You smirked, "You guys are just sore losers."

Hikaru chimed in, "You're not even a second-year!"

Kyoya, however, simply leaned against a wall with a wry smile. "All I hear is whining from two losers."

You couldn't help but giggle at the banter among your friends, sharing a victorious moment.

After finally shedding the uncomfortable Lolita costume and wiping away the last remnants of makeup, you found yourself alone in the cozy embrace of the music room. The echoes of the Halloween festivities still resonate in your mind, but the overwhelming discomfort of the costume had been left far behind.

Sitting in the dimly lit room, you reflected on the night, your thoughts filled with gratitude for Kyoya. His unexpected and thrilling proposal to embrace the Halloween spirit had transformed a dull evening into a genuinely enjoyable one. You couldn't help but smile as you remembered how he had dragged you into the world of scares and pranks, and in doing so, had shared a unique and memorable experience with you.

The Halloween night had been a perfect blend of fright and fun, of camaraderie and laughter, and it was all thanks to Kyoya's initiative. As you sat in the peaceful music room, you realized that sometimes, the most unexpected and unconventional plans could lead to the best and most cherished memories.

"All hail the champion," a voice echoed in the empty room, and there stood Kyoya, the unexpected partner in your Halloween scare victory.

You couldn't resist a teasing grin. "Only a bow and some praise will do for your champion."

He walked over, the atmosphere filled with a mix of playful competition and genuine camaraderie. His smile was cocky as he leaned against the side of the column.

"So, do I get a prize for helping you win?" he inquired, his voice tinged with a playful challenge.

You responded with a smug grin, "It's my name they announced, not yours, so I'm afraid you don't get anything."

Kyoya leaned in closer, his smile seeming somewhat wistful. "I did help you win, though. I should get something."

With a soft laugh, you placed a hand on his arm and said, "You get the honor of witnessing your fiancé's majestic victory."

The two of you shared a moment of contentment and affection, the playful banter masking the fondness you felt for each other. It was a celebration of your Halloween success and the unique bond you shared.

“I want something else as my prize.” He smirks.

He acted on his impulses, seizing you by the waist and pressing you firmly against the column. His lips met yours with a passionate intensity, a bruising kiss that left you breathless, and you gasped in surprise at the sudden, fervent connection.

His tongue tantalizing teased your bottom lip, seeking entry, and you willingly granted it. Your heads tilted in unison, and one of his hands found its way to the back of your neck, gently bending it to deepen the kiss. A throaty moan escaped your lips as his other hand on your hip squeezed you possessively.

For a brief moment, he pulled back, his breath hot against your skin, and he whispered with a mixture of desire and frustration, "You always manage to pick the worst timing to drive me so, so eager for you."

His lips trailed a scorching path down your cheek, following the delicate curve of your jawline. Each touch was an electric shock of sensation, sending shivers down your spine as the world around you seemed to blur, consumed by the fervent desire shared in this stolen moment.

“Don’t I?” You chuckled briefly. “It just means I’m winning.”

“How so?” He asks not to bother to stop his lips from connecting to your skin.

“You want to hear my master plan?”

“Do enlighten me.” His soft laugh lights a fire inside your stomach.

“The more you resist me, the more you want me… Have you noticed how close we’ve become in the last few days?” He stops himself in his tracks to look at you in the eyes with intrigue. “I am winning.”

“Must everything be a competition between the two of us?”

“To get what we both deeply want, it is not an option.”

“And what is it I want?” He smirks as if he could read you all too well.

“You don’t want to marry me for love and some other reason you refuse to talk about and I don’t want to get married at all, but duty is duty. But you do want me, which makes things complicated for us.” You breathe heavily when his teeth graze the skin of your neck. “So let’s meet in the middle. We can either keep denying each other’s needs and go our separate ways to college hoping to find better matches for us so we both marry for love, duty and what not, or we can give in and have our fun until college and then we find better matches. So you don’t have to marry me and you’ll be out of my hair. Two simple choices, one clearly more fun than the other, but riskier.”

He chuckles when he faces you again. “How so?”

“You’ll fall in love.” No, you would.

“With you?” He chuckles. “You’re pretty to look at, sure, but you get on my nerves too much for me to fall in love.”

“I gave you our options, it’s your choice. In a way I am not replacing you like you asked.” He crashed his lips to yours, his very own way to seal their deal.

“I won’t lose to you, y/n.” He whispered before his lips met yours once more.

“Neither will I.” You moan against his lips before you were picked up and carried on one of the pink velvet couches. He pried your pants off gently as his lips were still glued to yours. It was happening… You’d finally have Kyoya the way you wanted him ever since last time he kissed you.

He moved between your thighs and took his sweet time to kiss and nimble on both of them.

“You always assume I have better self control than I actually do.” He whispers before taking your underwear off. “I’m no better than any other man when it comes to you.” He smirks before dipping his head between your thighs. You huffed out a loud moan when he licked a stripe up your folds, before plunging his tongue right into your dripping heat. You snatched at his head, pulling his hair as your hips shifted against him— his nose nudging your clit.

He moaned against your cunt— the vibrations making that coil in your stomach tighten. He squeezed your thighs, running his tongue up your folds and swirling it around your clit, repeating this action a few times. You felt like you were in a dream, Kyoya pleasing you as a reward for your victory... or for his own pleasure. It didn't matter, he had accepted your deal and you were more than happy to give in to the tension between the two of you.

You felt yourself drawing tight, a thin sheen of sweat gathering across your bare skin. “Kyoya—” You came with a moan of his name, your hips stuttering against his face. You felt him groan beneath you, tongue working you through your orgasm.

After a long moment, Kyoya hovered over you. You smiled hazily at him. He hummed, pressing his mouth to yours. You couldn't believe what had just happened.

You could taste yourself on his lips, his tongue. You hummed a response, too busy stroking his cheek, feeling your own arousal sticky on your fingers. He pulled back briefly. “I won’t lose to you.” He repeated like it was an oath and you believed him for a split second.

#anime #arranged marriage #enemies to lovers #kyoya #kyoya fluff #ouran au #ouran academy #ouran high school host club #ouran host club #ouran tamaki #kyoya smut #ohshc kyoya #kyoya x reader #hostess fanfic #honeysunai masterlist

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ellssbellss · 2 years

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Lavender Roses ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

pairing- Kyoya Ootori x Reader

In which a rational head hides a generous heart, but you have always known how to see past his walls and help him bloom into the gorgeous rose he is.

Enjoy a slow burn between an honor student and our beloved glasses character!

summary: He stepped even closer to you, trying to reassure you the best he knew how.

“Whatever it is you need to tell me, you can say it. You can trust me.”

word count: 14.3k

legend:

(e/c) = eye color

(n/l) = native language

(c/n) = home country's name

(p/c) = pick a color

see masterlist! : masterlist

taglist!: @abbysblogsstuff @sunukissed @kisskissshutmydoor @idonia-dovahkiin @greensnakegoblep @vervainnnn

The Grade School Host The Naughty Type! pt. 1

“What kind of music do you like, (Y/n)?”

You leaned forward on the table, your billowing sleeves falling down your forearm to reveal beautiful rings and bracelets covering your wrists and fingers. You gave your guest a loving smile, biting your lip slightly as you stopped to think.

“Hm,” you say, a seductive hum rolling its way to your guests ears, and resonating within the blush on their cheeks. “I’m not entirely sure. I love all kinds of music.” Your deep lipstick moves as another flirt slips out of your mouth.

“But, I think the sound of your voice is what brings me the most joy, honey.” The girl across from you loops arms with one of your male guests and they both lean on each other to keep from fainting.

You reach out to steady them, the vibrant skirt of your dress swishing with your movements. The flowing cloth was dyed in a deep (p/c), bringing out the brightness of your (e/c) eyes. Your lipstick matched perfectly, and gold jewelry accented the entire look.

Tamaki promised a royal Arabic theme, and boy, did he deliver.

“Careful,” You warn as you place your guests back in their chair. “You shouldn’t be falling for me so soon.” A blush is fabricated on your cheeks as well as all three of you giggle at your pun.

But before you can continue your conversation, you pause your hosting to watch Tamaki excuse himself from his guests.

A rare sight, indeed. Tamaki would never leave his guests alone if it wasn’t important.

Hikaru and Kaoru rise with him, but you ignore the way they rush to their places in the foyer of the music room, getting into their positions. You didn’t want to leave your guests unattended.

The guest that you were laughing with suddenly becomes very close. You had entertained her many times, but she had never been this brave. It was a good-natured advance, so no alarm was needed on your part. It was just surprising.

She looked confident, but a blush raged a war on her cheekbones as she grabbed your hand. Her friend beside her looked at her in awe.

“I think it’s a little too late for that.” She admitted, a small smile on her face. It was your turn to blush when she grasped your face in your hands and planted a firm kiss on your cheek.

Her forwardness caught you off guard, a nervous sound coming out of your dropped jaw.

Kissing was definitely not encouraged in the club. It was too sentimental, too intimate. If the hosts went around kissing guests left and right, too many people would be let on, and things could take a dramatic turn. All guests were made well aware of that fact, but some people thought that they deserved special treatment. Not surprising coming from a crowd of heirs and rich nobles.

Your guest smirked at your disbelief, and you didn’t know what to say. As uncomfortable as this situation was, you didn’t want to make a scene.

Before you could figure out something to say that could gently defuse the situation, the girl’s eyes flicked to somewhere behind you, causing her to draw back slightly. Her other friend swallowed.

A pale hand gently grasped your shoulder.

“Kyoya?”

“A new guest is arriving. We need to get into our positions.” He said, his slightly-more-than-monotone voice piercing through the room. Over his glasses, you saw his stare catch onto the guest that had just crossed a club boundary.

“I’m afraid to say that (Y/n)-san’s hours have unfortunately come to an abrupt end.” He voices to your guests, a host grin pulling on his face. His words were like ice. “Thank you for choosing to spend your free hours here, but you may be excused.”

“You need to leave?” The girl whined as she leaned ever closer towards you.

Kyoya moves in front of you and offers a hand. You take it, his skin soft against yours, and gracefully peel yourself off your chair.

“As I said,” Your best friend glazes a stare over his shoulder at the guest behind you. The grin was gone, and his gaze was casted to the women who sat below him. It was the look he used for when the people who worked for him disrespected his father’s work. For when inferior individuals questioned his authority. “You are excused.”

A chill went down your spine as the girl huffed then grabbed her friend’s hand. She pushed out her chair, allowing it to skid across the tile. Throwing a fit, her friend followed behind her embarrassed, his head down and a sad blush dusting his cheeks. Your eyebrows crinkled in sympathy as he was dragged away to another chaotic event that girl would surely create.

You both watched them walk away before making your way to the foyer, where the twins adjusted their uniforms as they took their places around Tamaki, who draped himself over the couch, a royal centerpiece of jewels and fabric.

“Please tell me she won’t be back here.” You laugh nervously, trying to play it off as a joke. But it was hard to contain the insecure wobble in your throat, and you tried to disguise it as a chuckle. Kyoya’s jaw set as he picked up the crack in your foundation, and squeezed your hand as he led you to your position: in a window position behind Haruhi.

“She won’t.” He didn’t need to elaborate more. As cold as he was, you felt safer, appreciating the action Kyoya took when your boundaries were crossed. Add that to the lists and lists of reasons your heart yearned for this man.

A breeze rushed over your palm as the ravenet let you go. He made his way to his place behind Tamaki’s right, directly to the side of you. A moment passed before your gazes met again and he offered a small smile, washing away the last bits of the scene that had played out minutes ago.

On the other side of the coin, Kyoya’s nerves were a light with a new flame.

There wasn’t much more he could take. A female host was a smart addition to the club, as you were bringing in more money and more popularity to the club every day. But with that came more risk, and the money was becoming less and less of a reason to keep putting you in the spotlight.

Guests got courageous, lazy. A slip of the hand here, a caress there. He has seen the way some look at you, the least bit of good intention in their eyes. He especially had a bad feeling about the girl who had just made a new enemy of the Ootori company. It was a pity no one taught her to follow the rules.

However, what was he going to do when someone made their advances clear, and you accepted them?

That kiss on the cheek shocked him back into reality. He had become complacent with softened gazes and light touches here and there, but he wanted more. Kyoya wanted to be more.

He had to act soon. But how?

Being a club member didn’t automatically mean that Kyoya knew how to bring his relationship with you to the next level. Naturally, he didn’t know the first thing about relationships.

He fidgeted, adjusting his glasses as he looked around the club, watching the girls cry when Honey and Mori-senpai said their temporary goodbyes as they walked towards your side of the picture they were creating to greet the guest that was on their way. Each host was skilled in knowing what these guests wanted in an entertainer.

Extravagant gestures, money, power. Promises of devotion no matter what consequences their choices led too, words of everlasting beauty and riches.

The ravenet knew you enough to be sure that you were above all that. If there was one thing Kyoya knew he wanted to give you, it wasn’t empty promises.

Before he could think about it more, the door to the club creaked open, a boy walking in tentatively, choking on a rose petal that had flown into his mouth.

His thoughts instinctively transferred back to the reputation of the host club and the megane’s back straightened.

“Welcome to the Ouran High School Host Club!” Your friends said in unison, setting the tone for the atmosphere that you all created around you.

Your host smile shifted slightly when the short figure plucked the rose petal from his mouth, shaking it away when another one caught onto his fingers. He looked up in awe, his deep brown eyes glittering as they flicked over each costume, Arabian culture deeply rooted in the vibrant colors and jewelry.

He was just a child, fascinated by the shiny things.

Hikaru’s arms flopped to his sides, having put them up in a romantic, outstretched gesture. He blew a ginger strand of hair out of his face as his eyebrows drew close in confusion. You had dyed their hair a third time when they grew bored of the bright colors. They liked the sneaky potential of always being mistaken for the other, and the colored hair made it too obvious.

He grumbled to his brother and Tamaki posed in front of him. “Oh, it’s a kid.”

Tamaki, never one to break character, floated a hand towards the boy, gracefully splaying his fingers out to show off his rings. “What’s wrong little boy?” The prince’s voice drawled, a soft, royal tone passing over his tongue. “Did you come to my palace in search of something?”

The kid shuffled, one foot pointing toward the blonde, and another pointing toward the doorway. His response shook in hesitation as he struggled to make eye contact with the blonde.

“Are you the King of this place?”

You immediately looked at Kyoya, and gray met (e/c) in an exasperated effort. You sucked on your cheek, trying not to roll your eyes as Tamaki sat straighter, a glimmer glossing over his violet irises.

“Well?” The boy pressed on. “Are you?”

Tamaki’s hand turns, his palm facing upwards. A finger curls, beckoning the child to come closer.

“Come closer, lost one.” Oh god.

The kid’s green uniform crinkles as he makes his way towards Tamaki, and your posture sinks even more as he adjusts himself to tower over the poor child.

“What did you just call me, little boy?” Tamaki asks. Egotistical, lovable prick.

Brunette eyebrows furrow on the young face. “The King?”

The king lights up, standing to sway around the club room, basking in the words of a naive little child. “Ah, the king! Yes, I am the king of the host club!” You could’ve sworn you saw stars appear in his eyes. “Long live the king!”

“God, kid, what have you done?” You grumble, and watch as Haruhi’s shoulders struggle not to shake with her contained laughter.

In the presence of the supposed king, the boy straightens his back, putting both feet together in a structured salute.

“I’m an elementary fifth year! Shiro Takaoji!”

Shiro had a look of determination on his face that seemed too brutal for his age. His soft cheeks were clenched as he set his jaw, and the downturn of his eyebrows accented the shine of a purpose in his brown eyes. It was off-putting.

Then again, Honey-senpai didn’t act like how you would’ve expected either.

Tamaki gasps as the posture of the child, and you didn’t think his head could get any bigger than it already was. That was before Shiro pointed to your blonde friend.

“I want the host club king to take me on as an apprentice!”

You were sure the entire host club was going to suffocate under Tamaki’s ego.

Tamaki rejoices, spinning the kid around in his arms as the boy kicks and spits until he settles under his grasp.

More than displeased, you lean over to your left, scoffing as you whisper to the handsome director next to you. He notices and discreetly leans to his right.

“Please, an apprentice?” You scoff, your lips curling into a joking frown. “What is Tamaki going to teach the little squirt, huh? His detailed skin care routine?”

A small puff of air exerts from Kyoya, encouraging a small chuckle. He looks at you with a roll of his eyes while you turn your attention back to the boy in front of you, watching how you analyze the little boy like he is a mutant strand of the flu. His gaze softens without you noticing, then he looks to Tamaki as he immediately begins spouting small lessons to Shiro.

His eyebrow quirks as an idea flashes through his mind. If Tamaki is already going to be giving out free lessons on how to flirt with women, how bad would it be to sit in on a class?

“Oh my Tamaki, you have an apprentice?” A girl asks as she basks in the light that is Tamaki Suoh. Guests surround the prince like a moth to a flame, the center of the host club becoming something of a hive. But that wasn’t the unusual part. Today, there was a new kind of bug in their mist.

Shiro watches intently as Tamaki grasps the girl’s hand, smiling down at her.

“Yes. He is in elementary school, but I quite like the fire in his eyes.”

“But are you sure it’s okay for such a young boy to become a host?” The guest says, looking between the elementary fifth year and the high school second year.

Tamaki’s expression simmers down to a smirk, but clearly ignites a fire in the girl’s heart as he draws nearer, causing a blush to form on her cheeks.

“Why wouldn’t it be? Love has nothing to do with age.” He rests a hand on her cheek, and you watch as she leans into the touch. “Take us for instance. When I’m with you, my heart starts pounding.” He leans a little closer. “Suddenly, I feel no different than a love-sick little boy.”

She swoons. “Oh Tamaki~.”

Across the pastel tile, You, Kyoya, and Haruhi watch from the snack table as Shiro leans onto his tippy-toes, poking his head slightly above the table so that he can get a better look.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that he’s making the kid observe him up close like that?” Haruhi asks, wincing as Shiro opens his eyes a little wider, hoping not to miss anything.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that this kid is here at all?” You say, frowning as you watch what you think to be a 10 year old take notes on how to seduce women.

Leaning on a table behind you, Kyoya slightly glances up from his writings to check on Tamaki before focusing back on the pages in front of him.

“There is a theory that people are considered more beautiful when observed up close.” He pauses, disguising it as a bored sigh, while taking the chance to glaze his eyes over your features. It wasn’t that you were more beautiful up close – because he didn’t think that was possible –, but he will always revel in the effect of your presence, and will never bore of you being inches away from his touch.

“Tamaki seems to live by that theory.” He continues, and writes down the way Tamaki angles the girls face towards his, forcing a blush away from the thought of touching you that way.

You roll your eyes as an irritating look on the kid's face forms when he tries to focus on the conversation happening in front of him.

“Well, let’s leave them alone.” You say, as you gather what you came to the snack table for in the first place. You set pastries and sandwiches onto a silver platter, then begin walking back over to your guests for the afternoon. “I’m here to work, not to babysit.”

Both Kyoya and Haruhi look at you as you leave, taken aback by your harsh tone reserved for the fifth year. Haruhi looks between you and Kyoya, who has an eyebrow raised on his forehead, but otherwise seems unfazed.

“What’s up with her?” The honor student asks, directing her question to the club director while still keeping an eye on you. As you pass Shiro, you give him a wide girth, your posture slouching slightly.

An amused chuckle resounds through Kyoya. “(Y/n) is scared of children.”

Haruhi’s brows furrow together, and she looks at you again. You are so bubbly and kind, accepting of everyone and everything. For you to not like something as innocent as children is almost hilarious in a way, if it wasn’t so confusing.

“I was just as surprised as you are when I first figured it out.” Kyoya assured her. “But she finds them incredibly annoying, especially when they aren’t supervised by their parents.”

“But that’s so unlike her, she’s usually so open.” The brunette debates, remembering how caring and motherly you can be towards the members of the host club.

Kyoya sighs, glancing at you once more, and Haruhi catches a glimpse of sympathy in his facade. “(Y/n)’s past is more complicated than she makes it seem. When she was younger, her parents made her feel like a burden. She had to rely on them so heavily, being a child and all, and her parents weren’t able to live their lives the way they wanted too.” A chuckle of dark humor travels past his lips. “Because who can travel and do business with a toddler attached to their hip?” Kyoya’s tone is dry as he looks down at Haruhi, whose eyes have lost their mirth.

“So, psychologically, she feels like she has to avoid kids at all costs. She’s scared to treat them the way her parents treated her.”

His statement leaves Haruhi even more confused, and a little saddened to hear about your past. “Since when are you a psychiatrist?”

“I’ve never claimed to be a medical professional.” Kyoya smirks once more. “I’ve known (Y/n) for a long time, and I’ll admit I’ve come to learn how to read people.”

He shrugs. “Additionally, I know a thing or two about parental issues.”

The ravenet lifts his gaze again and watches as the boy apprentice calls one of Tamaki’s guests a carp, and as Tamaki tries to comfort his offended guest, Shiro casually walks around, looking for something more interesting after grumbling under his breath.

Kyoya’s jaw clenches from holding back a smile as he follows Shiro’s path. “Would you like to know the irony of the situation?”

Haruhi nods and aims her brown eyes in the direction of Kyoya’s gaze.

“Because (Y/n) is so kind and open, children are drawn to her.”

As if punctuating the megane’s statement, Shiro drops down into an empty seat next to you, and they both laugh as you stiffen.

“Man, what a crybaby.” Shiro casually says, resting his elbows on your table as he interrupts your conversation with the guy across from you.

“You look like you won’t annoy me.” He says to you, and you wince internally.

You look at him, your (e/c) eyes piercing through him, and Shiro gives a little gasp. You definitely remind him of someone. A girl in his class. She has the same smile that you do.

Too bad he didn’t know that this smile was forced. “Shiro, you can’t sit here right now. I’m working.” You’re trying to be kind, you really are. You might be uncomfortable around children, but that didn’t give you the right to be rude to them.

“Who says?” He looks back at you. Your cheeks puff out, and your face takes on a deadpan expression. Your eyes slide back to your laptop as you continue working out the budget, typing up financial plans to save up for some more specialty items for those who are a part of the point system.

“What are you doing?” Shiro asks, and he sits up on his knees, prying his eyes over your computer.

As he gets closer, you slide the laptop away from him. He leans even more, and you slide it away. Eventually, he is crawling on the table, scrambling to get a glimpse at your screen.

Biting your cheek to keep from cursing at a kid, you stop typing and pick him up from his armpits, treating him like a radioactive piece of lab equipment, and set him back down at his chair.

“Stop being nosy, or go find someone else to bother.” You say, firm, but there was no anger in your words. Just exhausted annoyance.

He huffs, folding his arms and pouting, but he stayed in his seat nonetheless. Your company was somehow less stressful than the king he was observing from your table.

That is, until two gingers came up behind you and wrapped around each shoulder. Like you weren’t already annoyed.

“So how’s it going, (Y/n)? That’s an adorable little buddy you got there.” They tease you, also knowing your distaste for the young.

The twins laugh at your dismay, and you hunch further over your computer, struggling to focus on the task in front of you. Not with three immature little brats surrounding you.

“But, Hikaru…” Kaoru suddenly becomes very sheepish, his laughter coming to a halt. You turn slightly to see a blush painting his face, and you roll your eyes in favor of watching your screen.

Kaoru continues. “Do you wish you had a little brother like Shiro?”

Stars and moons light up in each guests’ eyes as they watch Hikaru gather a tearful Kaoru in his arms, cradling his head as he looks down on him with dramatic longing.

“Don’t be silly.” As if on cue, rose petals fall over them, most likely from the ones Renge had installed in the ceiling for moments like this. “I could search the whole globe and I’d never find a better brother than you, Kaoru.”

“Hikaru…” Kaoru sighs.

Boys and girls all swooned around them as they shouted praises at their brotherly love act, especially after being deprived of it for so long.

But beside you, Shiro scrambled, leaping off his chair and pointing at the two brothers. He tugs on your sleeve, and with more strength than you would expect from a fifth year, pulls you out of your chair. He drags you away from the twins and sets you in front of him like a human shield, pointing at the Hitachiians in disgust.

“What the hell? Their brothers! That makes this totally insectuous!”

You rip your hand from his grip while you roll your eyes, already exhausted. You’re so used to the twins’ act by now, you forget it takes a while for people to get used too.

You sigh as you try to make your way back to the table. “I think what you meant to say was incestuous.”

You stop and turn at a grunt from Shiro as Honey jumps on his back, a cute smile on his round face. “Hey Shiro-Chan! You wanna have a piece of cake with me? We’ve got three kinds: chocolate, strawberry, and lime!”

Manically, Shiro shoves the third year off, and you wince as Honey lands on his butt. “Hey back off! What grade are you in anyway? Why’re you wearing a high school uniform?”

A shadow looms over him as Honey stands, rubbing his sore backside. You watch as Shiro looks up to see Mori, tall as ever, looking down at him over the bridge of his nose.

“Something wrong, Mitsukuni?” Moris deep voice swept over the kid, and he backed away, finding refuge behind your legs, much to your dismay.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Shiro cries. “A little kid like you can’t have a cool older friend like him!”

Mori picks up Honey while you back away from Shiro, turning only to run into Haruhi. Why can’t you just make it the two steps to your seat?

Startled, Haruhi looked up from what she was doing. She grips a fragile tray in her hand, balancing a teapot with snacks that you helped prepare this morning arranged in a small little circle.

“Sorry Haruhi- oof!” You say as the elementary schooler bumps into you once more, and you take a deep breath before you could explode on the poor kid.

The honor student peeks behind you and sees Shiro gripping onto your skirt for balance.

“Are you alright?” She says, and both of you face the kid, considering you were awkwardly trapped between them. Might as well become part of the conversation.

Haruhi leans down so she can be slightly more level with Shiro, and a kind smile traces her features. “I know, it’s kinda hard getting used to all the weirdos around here.”

Her joke puts you a little more at ease. Maybe it won’t be so bad after all.

“It took me a while to get adjusted to all the craziness, so don’t freak out.” You say, hoping to give the kid some sort of comfort. Your voice doesn’t come out as confident and bright as you would like it, but it was soothing. So A for effort.

Haruhi nods. “We’re sure you’ll get used to it.”

You both pause as Shrio’s face becomes wrinkled with concentration. His eyes pin down Haruhi’s face as he studies her, confusing you to no end. Was he listening to anything you were saying?

You try again. “Shiro? Is there something wrong?”

The kid’s eyes squint at Haruhi a bit more before he opens his mouth, causing your breath to stop in your throat. “Are you a crossdresser?”

You gasp. “Oh no.”

Suddenly, the twins and Tamaki are at your side, Kyoya walking over at a leisurely, but purposeful, pace. They become the Keep-Haruhi’s-Gender-A-Secret committee as Tamaki covers Shiro’s eyes.

“Okay! That’s enough!” The prince declares, chuckling nervously as he tries to direct Shiro away from your best friend, but the student doesn’t budge. “I think Shiro should take care of the tea for us! Don’t ya think?”

You nod urgently and promptly take the tray from Haruhi’s grasp. The twins form a tag team, reaching out and patting her on the back to assure her of her manliness.

“Wow, Haruhi, you’re looking extra manly today!”

“Yeah, you’re too macho for tea sets!”

Kyoya arrives at your side, humming in interest. “This kid is smarter than I thought.”

Your mouth curves in distaste as you move to hand Shiro the tray. But not before you’re able to respond under your breath. “He may be a kid, but he has quite the eye.” The sarcasm couldn’t have been thicker in your tone.

Trying to be more polite for Shiro, you paste a light grin when you face him. The tea tray extends out in front of you, and you give him a gentle warning.

“Now be careful with it. It’s pretty heavy.”

When you pass it to the kid, a crash sounds when he immediately drops the expensive pottery. Your gaze falls to the porcelain that lays shattered at your feet, just like your patience.

“It’s not my fault I dropped it. It’s your fault because you’re the one who made me take it in the first place.”

Your hands were frozen out in front of you, still grasping an imaginary tray as you prayed that you were dreaming.

“Are you kidding me?” You ask, mainly to yourself, despite being in the company of the entire host club.

Disbelief flooded your senses at the spoiled audacity of this kid, and your mood deflated even more when you realized that you were the one who had to clean it up. Your hands came up to rub at your face as you turned on your heel, heading for the broom closet. Baring your teeth behind a closed grimace, you kept your profanities to yourself as you calmly walked away from the little devil.

Throughout the years, you had come to realize that Music Room #3 was larger than it seemed. Tucked into corners of the clubroom were closets, hallways, and cabinets that were hidden in plain sight, and once you found them, you couldn’t figure out how you had missed it. The broom closet was one of these rooms. Past the kitchen and to the left used to be a door you had never opened. But at some point, the twin’s curiosity got the better of them, and a vast storage space was discovered.

So, briskly, you made your way to the privacy of the broom closet, already a little emotionally overwhelmed from this aspiring new host, even if he had been here for only an hour or so.

Once you’re faced with the entrance to the broom closet, you sigh, letting your head rest against the white paint on the wood of the door. Eyes closed, you will your bubbling anxiety to simmer, but it doesn’t really go away until you feel another presence lean against the door beside you.

“That tea set was one-hundred-thousand yen. I’ll have to add that to your debt.” A familiar voice resounds within the confined space of this hallway, erasing the rest of your tension.

Leave it to Kyoya to find the humor in your dismay.

“And what debt would that be?” You ask, opening your eyes to see his shoulder pressed against the closet door, a smug look with a touch of softness painting his face. “It seems I only owe you favors, Ootori.”

The club’s director hums, a teasing light sparking in his gray iris. “Then I suppose you owe me two favors.”

The heartbeat in your throat is no longer caused by anxiety and you scoff, annoyingly enamored by the banter you two share.

Motioning him away and moving towards the door handle, a monotone response leaves your lips. “What a joy.”

With a creak, the door opens to reveal various multiple cleaning supplies. At the esteemed Ouran Academy, even the janitor’s closet is a walk-in space. Reaching above your head, you pull a small silver chain, turning on the lights and walking towards the back corner of the room.

Shelves on the walls are illuminated by the bright light of a fixture in the center of the ceiling. Different tools are organized on all levels, while the larger of them hang on the walls in front of you. You scan the room before stepping in, trying to get a better look when you realize that what you were looking for wasn’t in its usual place.

“I could’ve sworn the hand-held broom was back here.” You say, pantomiming the kind of tool you were looking for, as all you could see hanging from the walls were mops and brooms taller than you were.

“You mean this?” His voice projects behind you, and you spin to see Kyoya holding a small brush and a dust pan. Gratefully, you smile and reach for it, only for him to move it slightly out of your reach.

“Kyo?”

“Are you alright?” He asks, and you blink. It takes a second to process the change in mood, but a small smirk appears on your face nonetheless

“Are you worried about me or something?” He deadpans, and his concern is replaced with a slight regret of ever being associated with you.

The ravenet crosses his arms, the small broom hanging over the crick of his elbow. “I am simply aware that your emotions might be a little more than negative at the moment.”

You give him a ‘really?’ look, but he meets it, peaking over his frames for an answer.

Taking a deep breath, you give in. “I’m fine. Kids just put me a little on edge.”

“It seemed like you were about to rip the poor child’s head off.”

“I know, I know.” You wince at your previous behavior. Apparently, as much as you tried to hide them, your feelings still managed to be sewed onto your sleeve. “Honestly, being in here helps me cool off a little.”

With a classic eyebrow quirk, Kyoya turns his wrist, holding out the small broom in front of him for you to take. But when you take it, he doesn’t move out of your way.

The megane studies you before pushing himself off the wall and reaching towards your face. Delicately, his pale fingers push a runaway hair out of your face, tucking the strand behind your ear. His light touch causes something to bloom in your chest, and he takes comfort in the way you don’t push him away.

The light touch of his fingertips morphs into a palm resting on the side of your face, your cheekbones warm from the pressure. Your flustered confusion manifests in a slight drop in your jaw when he draws in a breath, adjusting his hand to tilt your head slightly.

“I realize that this may be a stressful situation for you.” Kyoya says, and in the small closest space, his quiet tone bounces off the walls and settles into the hollows of your rib cage. “But I hope I can be a place of comfort for you, if you need it.”

It takes you a while to find your breath, but the oxygen rushes in soon enough, pulling along a fluttery feeling by a romantic ribbon.

“Thank you, Kyo.”

A soft smile etches into his handsome features as time stops for a moment, allowing the two of you to bask in the other’s presence, a treasure that is always hidden in plain sight, but doesn’t present itself often.

That is, until a slam is heard from outside your little energetically filled bubble.

Your mind is given whiplash as you are yanked out of the dazed feeling Kyoya always seems to give you, and harshly released into the present. Kyoya follows your lead as he spins his head, trying to peer his vision around the corner.

“What the hell?” You ask, trailing off as you quickly circle around Kyoya, shoving your shoulders together before dashing off towards whatever made that disrupting noise.

In your dust of sunlight, Kyoya stands. He doesn’t follow you in favor of pulling out his notebook. He flips to the most recent page and scans it, finding the checklist he started at the beginning of the day.

In his neat handwriting reads: Head Tilt.

Shaking his head, Kyoya goes back to that moment when his hand touched your cheek, sighing at the electricity he felt surge through his fingertips. Maybe he didn’t copy Tamaki’s movements well enough?

Next to it, he writes Ineffective before pulling the chain above him, darkening the small space.

As you turn the corner from the closet, you nearly drop the small broom onto the polished tile when you find the newest addition to your club trapped in a giant metal cage.

“What’s going on here?!” The kid shouts. “Why did you put me in a cage?”

“Yeah!” You say as you stomp over to the group that has now been made around the poor child, making your presence known. “And where did it come from?”

Haruhi is also in awe, speaking through a dropped jaw. “Isn’t this supposed to be a music room?”

Shiro bangs on the bars as they ring in defiance. “This is no way to treat your loyal apprentice! Now let me outta this cage!”

“Jesus Christ, I was gone for two seconds.” You say next to Tamaki as you watch the elementary school kid bar his teeth at the seven of you as Kyoya joins the commotion.

“His attitude was in absolute distaste and he insulted Haruhi. Drastic actions call for drastic measures.” Tamaki states, arms folded in a scold towards the boy.

The blonde grabs a cup of tea that was freshly made by Haruhi before all of this began and sips on it, completely brushing off the kid’s whines.

“I will not let you out of that cage until you’ve learned your lesson. I made you my apprentice because I thought you were serious about becoming a host, but I guess I was wrong.”

Another cry comes from Shiro, and sympathy pulls uncomfortably in your chest. “I am serious! I am totally serious!”

His pleas seem to fall onto deaf ears as the King continues to ignore him, so he tries again. Your brow crinkles at the tears that glisten in his eyes. Maybe this was too much.

“I want you to teach me how to make a woman happy!” With desperation and defeat, he slumps to his knees, his knuckles white from his hard grasp on the prison bars. “I’m gonna run out of time.”

You share a look with Haruhi, both of you catching that brief example of vulnerability while Shiro takes another wet gasp. “Please, won’t you teach me?” The boy looks up, still on his knees.

“You’re a host because you like girls. You like bringing a smile to a girl’s face.” The kid swallows, not having the proper adult experience in controlling strong emotions like these. “That’s why you do it right? Please, won’t you teach me to be like you?”

Tamaki still continues to give Shiro the cold shoulder. Your discomfort for the child is momentarily erased as you come to Shiro’s aid.

“You should help him, Tamaki.” You say, and his violet eyes meet yours in suspicion. “After all, you are a genius. The King at making women swoon. You’re the only person that could help him.”

Tamaki drops the tea cup, but he skips over the shattered pieces towards Shiro with stars in his eyes. At least you already brought a broom from the closet.

“Well, you may be a brat, but I admire your ambition!” The prince exclaims with eagerness in his voice, his pride overflowing more than the tea that was previously in his cup. “So, I’ll teach you! You know Shiro, you and I are so much alike!”

You roll your eyes as Tamaki starts hugging himself, and the twins saunter up to each side of you.

“That poor kid…” Kaoru starts.

“...He doesn’t know what he just got himself into.” Hikaru finishes.

Chuckling, you roll your shoulders, feigning annoyance as you shove them off. They’re laughing too, but they twist their heads, trying to see if anyone was within earshot of the three of you.

“Too bad you weren’t here to see the shit Shiro pulled to get him landed in a cage.” The mischievous twin states, his golden eyes locking with Kaoru’s in another spurt of twin telepathy.

“Yeah, wonder what took you so long in that broom closet? Didn’t we see Kyoya go in there with you?” Kaoru states, and relishes in the blush that quickly rises to your cheekbones. They start snickering at your burning face, but their humor is interrupted as you yank on each one of their ears, crouching down and pulling them with you.

Your voice is a hushed whisper as you try your best to not bring any attention to yourselves. “If you guys don’t cut it out, I’m gonna call your mother and have her cease your weekly allowance for a month.” You tighten your hold on them and they wince. “Ms. Hitachiian and I are very close.”

They roll their eyes once you release them and dust off your skirt. “Geez, since when was your grip so strong?” They whine in unison as they rub their red ears.

You smirk as you walk past them to tune back into the conversation, serving them a fake smile. “It’s powered by my pure annoyance for the two of you.”

Rolling their eyes for the second time in a row, the three of you make it back to the host club’s shenanigans.

When Tamaki’s voice comes back into earshot, his tone has taken one akin to a teacher. “If this is really what you want, Shiro, then you’ll have to figure out how to use the material you already have.”

His innocence is highlighted when Shiro scrunches his eyebrows together. “What does that mean?”

The click of a pen is heard as Kyoya opens his book, turning to an earlier page. You scan it to see all of the host’s names, along with the advantages and disadvantages of each persona that you all hold. You were pleased to see that your category was recently added in a different color of ink, the few sentences suggesting that there was more to learn about how you can contribute to the club’s image.

“You see, here at Ouran Academy, our policy is to use our individual personality traits to meet the needs of our guests.” The ravenet speaks, a tiredness twisting into his tone as if he’s had to explain this exact thing several times over.

He gestures to Tamaki, who puffs out his chest proudly. “For example, there’s Tamaki, who is the Princely-Type.” Kyoya’s open palm then moves to each of you as you are introduced, seemingly proud of the system he has put together.

“Then, there’s the Strong Type, The Boy-Lolita Type, The Little-Devil Type, The Cool-Type, and the Natural-Type. It’s all about variety.” Finally, he points to you.

“And now our group is complete with the addition of (Y/n), the Sweet-Type.”

The brown-haired honor student points to herself, clueless of the nickname that had unknowingly been given to her. “The Natural?” You chuckle to yourself at her question.

Kyoya continues, looking up from his journal. “It would seem now that we have the perfect blend of characteristics. So it’s going to be hard to find a new one for Shiro.”

“If you go by his age, he would be the Boy-Lolita type.” You think out loud, the logical side of your brain taking over.”

Honey’s eyes wells up, his pupils glistening with sudden tears as he looks at you. “Is he gonna replace me?”

Before you can comfort him, another sudden noise pierces the air. Machinery crashes together with tremendous power, but unfortunately it wasn’t loud enough to silence an annoying voice tearing into the host club.

“Oh, come on! Is that all you’ve got?”

Your stomach ties in knots at the familiar voice, and you spin on your heel.

Laughing nervously, you wave to the rest of the host club. “Sorry guys! Last minute robotics club meeting, gotta go!” You briskly walk towards the front door. But before you can make it to the large double doors, the floor below you begins to open.

Wobbling on the edge, you nearly crash into the tiered platform rising out of the tile, but strong hands steady you just in time. Mori pulls you back onto stable ground, but as a pink bow reveals itself from the depths of the music room, you wish you would’ve fallen anyway.

Renge stands on three metal circles that get smaller as your vision rises, each acting as a step as she descends into the host club. You suddenly feel emotionally worn out, all of your patience draining at the sight of her sickly sweet smile.

“I need to sit down.�� You tell Mori in a lower tone of voice than usual, rolling your eyes at her victory laugh as she makes her way over to the host club.

The otaku sighs dramatically. “Sorry to interrupt gentlemen, but what’s with the lackluster character analysis? I must say I’m quite disappointed. I thought I taught you better.”

You sink deeper into your chair when Haruhi appears at your side, her tolerance equally spent.

“What’s up with this place?” She whines. “I thought it was supposed to be a music room?”

“A Renge-free music room.” You grumpily add on.

Tamaki sighs and folds his arms at Renge’s statement. “Alright then, Miss Renge, how would you work Shiro into our collection of characters?”

“Hmm.” She taps her fingers against her chin cutely as her eyes scan the room, landing her gaze on you, pinning you against the cushions.

Renge smirked and sighed. “First of all, I think you have too much variety. (Y/n) sullies what a host club is supposed to be!”

Grasping her hands together, her eyes shape into hearts as she twirls. “A room full of beautiful boys! Take her out of the club, put her back on sole errand boy duties, take her away from my Haruhi.” She stops twirling and points to the boys. “That’s what I would do first.”

On the other end of her finger, the host club deadpans.

Haruhi chuckles next to you. “Wait until she finds out I’m not a boy.”

Kyoya steps out from the group. “(Y/n) will not be leaving the host club. If you don’t have anything that’s actually useful, then feel free to escort yourself out, Renge.”

Renge pouts. “So mean.” But her demeanor completely shifts once again, from an annoying whiny spoiled brat, to an annoying loud spoiled brat.

“Listen up!” Your head reels from the whiplash of her emotions. “There are plenty of girls out there who have a thing for younger boys, or boys with baby faces. These girls are considered Shota fans.”

She begins to pace, walking in a pattern similar to a military general commanding her troops. “Now shota can be a broad category, so it’s important to know that the genre can be broken down into many different smaller categories.”

You hear scribbling and scoff as you see Kyoya taking notes on Renge’s mini lesson.

“If I had to pick a category for this little boy,” Renge contemplates as she walks in front of Shiro’s vision and crouches down, scanning the poor boy from head to toe. “Then he would be the Naughty-Boy Type for sure!”

A creaking sound emits from the ceiling as the cage rises, disappearing into the room as if it was never there. A now freed Shiro points to himself, confused.

“The Naughty Type?” He asks.

Renge rushes him, pulling a whistle out of the neckline of her dress, and blowing it. “Now to be the Naughty Type, you have to wear shorts!”

“He’s already wearing shorts.” You point out as you stand, a headache budding behind your eye sockets. How you were still sane with a kid and Renge in the same room, you couldn’t say.

Too focused to insult you, Renge blows her whistle again, and the noise ricochets off of your skull. “Okay! Then, you gotta have bumps and bruises! Give him a couple scars!”

Skilled in the makeup department, Hikaru and Kaoru get to work, painting on scratches and securing some bandaids to Shiro’s body as you make your way towards the ruckus.

Too soon, Renge slaps Shiro on the back, making that same damn whistle noise. “Now run like a spoiled child. Make it reckless!”

Flabbergasted, Shiro sprints to one side of the room, flicking his heels behind him and staying low to the ground, throwing off his balance and making a messy sprint. Renge watches as he runs suicides for a minute or so before she interrupts with another blow, catching his attention.

“Now I want you to trip and make it big!” Shiro does as he’s told, and takes a nasty fall to the tile. It looked like it hurt.

“Jesus Christ, Renge, he’s just a kid.” You say as you rush to him, grabbing the spot under his arm and pulling him up gently. “Are you okay, Shiro-chan?”

Renge laughs victoriously. “Now say your catchphrase!”

Shiro simply smirks, wiping the dust from his mouth that came from the unswept floor. His voice comes out scruffy and forced. “No big deal, it was nothin’.”

Realizing you’d been played, you promptly drop the kid and walk away. “Last time I help a kid like you.”

But Renge squeals. “That was perfect, Shiro!”

Tamaki claps behind her. “That was outstanding! I never knew you were such a great coach, Renge!”

You rolled your eyes and took a stance between Kyoya and Mori, the land of non-expressive annoyance.

Shiro stands, and when he lifts his head, he has the same look that all children have when they are frustrated, or can’t understand why something is happening.

His brow furrows, and there’s a desperate shine to his eyes as his mouth parts in disbelief before his entire facade shifts into anger.

“You’re idiots!” He shouts. “You’re all a bunch of idiots!”

Before any of you can stop him, he starts towards the door. “I’ve had enough of you people!” Shiro’s voice drops to a sad tone before he steps out of the club room. “This is so stupid, none of this is ever gonna make her happy.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Who’s her?”

But Tamaki is calling after the kid. “Wait, Shiro, we haven’t taught you how to apply the techniques you’ve learned yet!”

It was too late. Shiro had left Renge’s crappy teaching in his dust, along with a hint to a secret he has clearly been hiding.

‘None of this is ever gonna make her happy!’

Completely ignoring Shiro’s feelings, Tamaki marches back to the group. “I can’t believe he ditched us because he didn’t like the lesson. What a selfish little brat.”

“It takes one to know one.” Haruhi says, and you both snicker as Tamaki whines.

“Haruhi! Mon ami!” He runs to hug Haruhi and cries, but the noise is swallowed by the sound of the platforms turning. You spin to see Renge slowly lowering herself back into the floor, the machine descending into wherever it came from.

“You’re leaving?” You ask, maybe a little too hopeful.

She sighs. “I swear, young boys are good for nothing. I went through all that trouble, and he quits!” Renge throws her arms up in an exasperated expression just before the tile closes around her, placing her out of sight and out of mind.

The air in the clubroom seems suddenly calmer, for some reason.

Haruhi breaks herself from the prince’s grasp. “Listen Senpai, weren’t you listening to what he said?”

Tamaki stops trying to grab her and pull her to him to tilt his head, humming in question.

Her brown eyes meet yours as Haruhi silently asks for your support, considering you heard the same things she did.

“He said ‘I’m gonna run out of time.’” You clarify as you make your way to her. “What do you think he means by that?”

Haruhi gets a thoughtful look on her face, her eyes drawing downward to focus on the tile that apparently holds many secrets.

But soon she answers with a quiet confidence. “I think, maybe, it’s a girl.”

Giving her a confirming nod, you think back to how desperate a reckless little boy was to take instruction from a bunch of uptight strangers. But you guessed that nothing was a better motivator than love.

Why Kyoya let Tamaki make up these ridiculous plans was beyond him, but here he was nonetheless. In the dark, pressing himself against a wall of a school he hasn’t stepped foot in in over a decade. He rolled his eyes as the idiotic trio couldn’t stop themselves peaking out from the door they hid behind, watching as Haruhi and Honey pranced around in grade school outfits, Haruhi’s being more revealing than was needed.

“You think the fact that Tamaki practically forced her to wear that outfit would reveal a little secret crush or two, wouldn’t you say?”

Ah yes, you were here as well. Crowded against him in another conveniently small closet where your shoulders were pushed together and the air smelled a little sweeter from your presence. He felt you chuckle against him at your comment, and soaked in the sound as he shook his head.

“Those two are too stubborn and ignorant to interpret their behavior as anything other than a close friendship.” He whispered.

Without light, it was hard to make out how close your face actually was to his, but you were close enough that he could see a few features in the shadows. The shape of your jawline, your nose, your jewelry that reflected the small sliver of light that was streaming from Tamaki’s peephole.

You were close enough to make his heart race.

His response expelled another small laugh from you, causing a small smirk to rest on his face.

You peep out the little crack in the door and shake your head. “Why did they even bother with those disguises?” You ask while Kyoya brings out his notebook. “They stick out like a sore thumb.”

The ravenet hums as he flips to the first page with some open space and begins to draw small spirals. He couldn’t bring out his phone since it would be too bright, so doodling seemed to be the next best conqueror of boredom.

“Oh ho, (Y/n), never doubt me.” Tamaki says in front of you. He’s crouched, and there’s a creepy glint in his usual violet irises. “There’s a reason, a damn good reason.”

“Gross.” You chide next to Kyoya, watching suspiciously as he rubs his hands together like a madman.

The twins sigh next to him, and Kyoya rolls his eyes at the drool that leaks from their mouths. “Isn’t she the cutest?” They admire, watching Haruhi being pulled around the elementary school by Honey’s direction.

“Just because she is helping you infiltrate the school and look for Shiro, doesn’t mean you can ogle at her the whole time.” You say, and Kyoya’s shoulder feels colder when you move away from him to wack all three of them.

Tamaki barely feels the impact, the evil glimmer in his eye turning into adoration. “Look at her in that little mini skirt! Haruhi looks like a little doll!” He whisper-squeals.

You roll your eyes and hit him again for good measure.

“So basically, you just wanted to see her dressed like that.” Kyoya says as you slowly make your way back to your spot in the dark. He reaches a hand out and you take it, feeling a small buzz in his palm while he gently guides you back to the wall.

The twins turn back, and the megane watches as their eyes drop to your intertwined hands and then back up to him. Kyoya lets go and rolls his shoulders, emitting a practiced nonchalant aura around him.

But the red heads smirked anyway, and he braced himself.

“You wouldn’t let us dress up (Y/n) like that, so Haruhi was our next best option…” Kaoru whispered, raising the right corner of his mouth.

“Let us enjoy this, Shadow King.” Hikaru finishes, the left corner of his lips mirroring his brother’s.

Kyoya ticked his jaw, not bothering to look at your reaction. Not like he could see it anyway.

Thankfully, there wasn’t time for you to reply when Haruhi and Honey walked into a classroom at the end of a long hallway, moving out of sight of the host club.

“We need to follow them.” Kyoya looked at another dark shape across from him when Mori spoke. From where Kyoya could see, he was leaning up against the wall, keeping a watchful eye.

At the stoic’s words, the club files out of the closet. You stretch next to him, sighing as you both are released from another small closet space.

“Is this your elementary school?” You ask beside him, and he looks down at you over his glasses. The two of you had fallen behind the rest of the group, and he watched as you looked at the walls full of trophies and pictures, appreciating the memories.

He hums, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “It is.”

“I bet you were kind of a nerd.” You say and he rolls his eyes. Kyoya thinks back to those times where he sat at a cafeteria studying rather than enjoying the period with friends. At the time, that’s what he preferred, but now he could barely imagine what lunch would be like without the chaos of the host club.

He supposed he would miss it.

“As were you, I assume.” Kyoya replies while turning his head to look down one of the corridors. Classrooms bustled inside and nostalgia hit him like a truck, remembering what it was like to be about a foot shorter, roaming the halls silently and carefully just as he did now.

A whack on his shoulder brings him back to the present, and he sees you scoffing at him for what seemed to be the hundredth time today. And then that scoff turns into a smile.

There wasn’t much that could incite an obvious emotional reaction from the megane. While there was quite a bit that could make him feel something, usually anger or annoyance, an apparent expression of contentedness and joy was rare to come by for him.

From the mixture of nostalgia and love, he feels a smile bubbling behind his lips, the corners twitching from the restraint of holding it back. The usual knot in his chest is unwound, falling instead to the bottom of his stomach, the strings feathering slowly and tickling the muscles beneath his abdomen.

He is too distracted, something that has never truly described him before, to realize that they've made it to the end of the hallway. Or to realize that a door has opened up from a corridor behind them. Or the gasp that sounded off in the distance.

The classroom that the club has stopped in front of set off another round of bursts. This was his old music classroom. He had played the flute for a time in elementary school before his dad made him drop it to focus on his academics. This was his old music teacher’s classroom.

Kyoya calmly made his way to the front of the crowd, leading them behind Haruhi, who had stepped in first to examine everything.

“Hm, there’s nobody here.” She states, and everyone else files in. Or, at least he thought it was everyone.

Tamaki enters the space, a hand to his chin. “So the kid’s classroom is empty, is it?”

But instead of being curious, the twins look as elated as Kyoya feels. “Man, this takes me back.” They say in unison. Hikaru rounds one of the desks, bending over to look on the underside of the wood.

“I wonder if my doodles are still on my desk.”

Another hum emits from the club’s director, except this one was dismissive instead of amusing. “Doubtful. The school changes the desks out every year.”

When he came back to his second year of flute lessons, he had thought the same thing when secretly observing each desk, looking for the tell tale sign of spirals. They had been wiped clean.

The twins, conventionally, ignore him and continue spelling off nonsense. “Let's check out the cafeteria after this!” Hikaru exclaims, with Kaoru nodding along with him.

“I wanna see the old gym!”

“Great idea, Kaoru!” Tamaki chimes in, still looking around. But unlike the rest of the host club, there wasn’t the glint of nostalgia in his stance. Kyoya’s mouth draws into a thin line before continuing to slowly walk the classroom.

Before you, Tamaki was Kyoya’s only source of this peaceful feeling. Even if he had to fight his way in, the blond prince had proven that people could and would take the time to truly get to know someone like Kyoya. So when Tamaki had opened up to him months later about where he had come from, Kyoya knew that he needed to be there for the prince. The same way that the prince had been there for the Shadow King.

Haruhi cleared her throat, breaking the ravenet from his thoughts. A vein was popping from her forehead in an attempt to control her frustration.

“If you’re just gonna barge in here like that, then why did we wear these stupid disguises?”

Tamaki flicks his wrist, ignoring her while the brothers laugh.

“Don’t worry about it.” Hikaru assured, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” Kaoru agreed. “There’s no one here to catch us.”

Ironically, at that moment, a pair of footsteps was heard walking down the hallway.

Like rats, the host club scattered. Heads ducked underneath desks, even if some fit more awkwardly than others. Kyoya adjusted his legs around the weirdly placed support bars of the table as the footsteps got closer, two muffled voices becoming clearer as the intruders grew near.

Weird, Kyoya thought, to label them as intruders when I’m the one hiding with a metal chair leg stabbing into my back.

“Is everyone hidden?” A cute whisper sounded in the classroom as Honey checked to make sure that everyone found a hiding spot. Always analyzing, Kyoya scanned from his uncomfortable position, taking a sort of attendance. He checked off a list of names in his mind to the beat of shoes against tile, the assumed teacher inching closer and closer every second.

Silence followed as the footsteps stopped right outside the door, and Kyoya realized he was missing someone.

A very important someone.

Doing his best to keep calm, he double checked.

Tamaki, Mori, Honey, Haruhi, the twins, and-

Where were you?

His collar felt uncomfortable against his neck when he angled his body slightly so that he could see farther down the line of desks. Catching the attention of Haruhi, who had picked the desk right beside him, he asked her if she knew where you were.

You and Haruhi had grown so close in these past few months, if you hadn’t told him where you were going, then certainly you would let her know-

“I thought she was with you?”

Confusion pulsed inside of his rapidly beating heart as his jaw clenched too tightly. The tip of his canine scratched the tissue of his lip as he rewinded the past few moments. His nostalgia had distracted him from those short moments between the closet and now, which had felt much longer in the moment.

As he looks deep into his memory, he swallows, remembering a small gasp emitting from where you were beside him before he took the lead into the classroom.

But before he could start the search party, the door to the teacher’s classroom opened, an airy laugh filling the space.

“This is my classroom.” A deep voice speaks in (n/l) as the two pairs of footsteps file onto the tile, and the host club instinctively pulls their feet closer to their bodies, making them as small as possible. “I just need to grab some sheet music, and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Wow, Mr. Salling.” Another voice compliments in the same language as she begins to walk between the aisles. “This is much better than the classroom back home.”

Kyoya meets Haruhi’s shocked gaze across the way. That was your voice. How in God’s name had you become acquainted with a teacher? All while not being detained by the school?

Who the ravenet assumes to be Mr. Salling laughs, a deep but quiet chuckle that was nothing other than genuine. “Yes. While I loved what I did back in (c/n), opportunities like this don’t come around very often.”

“You definitely deserved it, though! The music room was never the same without you.” You said as you continued walking. It sounded like you were dragging your palm against the desks as you slowly passed, taking in the new environment.

Black dress shoes came into Kyoya’s vision, and the moment of freedom was fleeting when he recognized the Ouran Academy sigil on the heel.

Shooting his hand out from beneath the desk, he laid his hand on the top of your foot. Tapping it twice with the pale pad of his fingers, he smirked as you jumped a little before looking down. (E/c) eyes met with his gray ones, and he watched fear, shock, and then annoyance pass through them as you noticed little tufts of hair scattered under the desks.

“(Y/n)?” The (n/l) speaker asks as your teacher notices your pause, and Kyoya raises a firm finger to his lips.

“Yes! Yes, sorry.” You cleared your throat as you quickly, but calmly made your way back to Mr. Salling. “I was just still processing that I was able to see you! What a small world!”

Another laugh emits from him. “It is nice to be able to speak (n/l) outside of the house.” Mr. Salling’s feet shift as he adjusts his weight when leaning on his desk. “What have you been up to all these years? Still practicing piano?”

“Oh, god no.” You scoff. “We both know I gave that up years ago.”

Even under the stress of the situation, Kyoya takes the risk of opening his journal to write down the fact that you had taken piano lessons.

You and your teacher take a moment to laugh a little more before it dies down. “I actually have a club that I joined that I’m really enjoying so far!” You lean back on your heels with a sigh. “Even if the people I work with can be pretty annoying.”

“Sounds exciting.” Mr. Salling says knowingly. The twins and Tamaki share offended glances.

You walk towards him again as you change the subject. “I hope I’m not keeping you from your students. I know you mentioned you didn’t have much free time.”

From where Kyoya can see, the brown shoes of your old teacher turn towards the clock, and then turn frantically as the megane hears papers rustling together.

“You’re absolutely right, Ms (L/n). I’m sorry to leave you, but my students are waiting for me in the practice room.” Salling rushes as he goes around his desk to retrieve the last of his things.

“You’re more than welcome to stay here until I get back, but it will probably be a while. If I don’t see you again, call my office. We can catch up over dinner with my husband.”

Your shoes follow him out, then stop by the doorway. “That sounds perfect! It was amazing seeing you, Mr. Salling!”

Down the hall, his footsteps are growing quieter as he calls out his reply. “Please, call me Esben.”

When the music teacher from the past is out of reach, the soles of your shoes spin as you close the door behind you.

“He’s gone.” The sweet voice you were using with Esben dropped many octaves as you alerted the bodies under the desks. The hosts crawled out of their hiding spots, stretching their torsos from the longevity of unnatural folding.

When Kyoya rises, you’re folding your arms across your chest.

“Where were you?” Haruhi asks.

“Where was I?” Your eyebrows raise in disbelief as you scoff. “I turned around for one second to say hello to one of my old teachers, but when I looked back, you guys were gone!”

A chuckle follows your amazed tone. “Of course you guys were hiding in the one classroom I just happened to follow Esben into.”

Haruhi shakes her head, but is satisfied with your answer. “So what do you think we should do now?” She asks as the hosts begin to explore the classroom.

Mumbling voices fill the classroom as the hosts pair together and split up, knowing that this place was as good of a start as any to begin their search for answers.

Kyoya makes his way over to you, the light in his eyes darker than usual.

You smile at him as he approaches. “What’s up?”

“You left.” He realizes his tone comes out flat as he speaks to you, and he tries his best to inflect it differently. “Without telling me?”

Another small laugh passes your lips. “Do I need to ask permission?”

“Not necessarily.” Kyoya turns, and he feels you naturally begin to walk at his side as you both scan the numerous pictures on the walls of the classroom. It feels right. “I’m just disappointed I wasn’t invited on your rogue mission.”

“Was that a joke?” Your finger pokes lightly into his shoulder, and he can’t fight back the smirk that appears on his lips at your playful voice. “Did Kyoya Ootori just make a joke?”

The ravenet jolts his shoulder, shrugging you off lightly, and scoffs when you act offended. “Get away from me.”

You laugh again, and the constricting knot in his chest loosens. There was a time in a certain private dressing room where he wasn’t close enough to help you. When you disappeared this time, that feeling of panic surfaced too suddenly, crescendoing into something monstrous and consuming.

But you came back, and that was what mattered. You were your own woman, and could take care of yourself, but he still wanted to be with you, in case you ever needed him.

“Here’s something interesting.” You muse as he snaps out of his daze. He sees you standing in front of another picture hanging up on the wall.

“What did you find?” He asks, making his way to your side while eyeing the picture in a golden frame.

Kyoya’s gaze softens as he processes the image. Shiro sits at a grand piano, a happy smile on his face. His fingers are dancing across the keys, but they aren’t alone as another set of hand rests next to them. Delicate fingers belong to a girl sitting next to him, a happy blush across her cheeks as they play and talk, joy seeping through the captured memory.

You hum next to him, and Kyoya sees an expression similar to his on your features.

“He may be a pain in the ass, but it seems he’s found the thing he loves doing.” You say dreamily as you zone in on Shiro’s content face. “And the person he loves doing it with.”

(E/c) orbs meet gray as you look at him then, and those words combined with the emotion in your eyes conduct an orchestra in Kyoya’s chest, his heart beating to the melody it creates.

The look lasts longer than it was meant to, but it’s broken as the rest of the host club gathers around to look at the photo.

“Wow, is that Shiro-chan?” Honey asks next to you, taking Kyoya away from his sweet (e/c) oasis as you nod.

“I’ve never seen him look so sweet. It’s nice to see him enjoying himself.” Haruhi says on the other side of you, and Kyoya focuses on the image again.

“It seems that he is in the classical music club. His teacher must be Mr. Salling, the man (Y/n) met earlier.” The ravenet states, and the rest of the class nods.

“Let’s see if we can find him.” You say, and with that the club pours out of the space, everyone staying together this time around.

Now, the eight of you watch from outside the window of a classroom, trying your best to stay out of sight. It was creepy, yes, but the club’s curiosity on this new side of Shiro was overwhelming, even Mori looked interested as you watched Shiro sit on a chair in his classroom.

The host club gathered closer toward the window when the same girl from the photo made her way over to him, a blush on her face as she clutched sheet music in her hands.

Her voice is cute and high, and she stutters when she speaks to him. “Excuse me, Takaoji? I-I’m sorry, but have y-you been practicing the new piece that Sensei gave us?”

When Shiro looks at her, there are no daggers, no downward glances. Just warmth. “The new piece? Not really…”

She perks up at the opportunity. “If you want, I can show it to you! Do you wanna come play it with me?” The little girl gestures to a grand piano near the far wall of the classroom, the sun reflected off the elegant, black exterior.

Shiro looks, and the warmth is replaced with a quiet sadness. “No thanks,” he says to her, his eyes meeting hers with less joy than before, “you go ahead. After all, there’s only one grand piano. You should use it, Kamishiro.”

The little girl’s disappointment rests in her shoulders as they droop slightly, but she keeps a kind smile. “Thank you, I will then! But if you want to join me, just let me know.” Kamishiro says before giggling and making her way to the large instrument.

As she places the sheet music on the stand and settles in front of the keys, Shiro’s eyes follow her the whole time. It’s even hard for the club to look away from her as she begins to play. Her fingers dance gracefully over the keys, showcasing the skill, talent, and love that she holds for her art. The hosts watch as she sways with each crescendo, falling into muscle memory and contentment as she plays.

A ding from a bell is heard, the sound interrupting the host club’s trance with this little girl, as another one steps out from the hallway. The child seems more bubbly than Kamishiro as she dances out of the room, into the hallway, only to pause at the sight of eight random teenagers looking like they just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

Her innocence is practiced as she shrugs and keeps walking, sensing no apparent danger, but Tamaki stops her politely.

“Excuse me, mademoiselle.”

“Huh?” The girl stops, only to see a white rose in her face. Her eyes grow wide and happy as she takes it from the handsome prince, and looks up at him with her full attention.

“I’ve never seen a rose more beautiful than you, my dear.” The little girl gasps while you cringe internally. If someone had talked to younger you that way, let alone a stranger, you probably would’ve either crawled into yourself or bolted away at the speed of light.

The prince continues. “I was wondering if you could tell me anything about the young lady playing the piano. Do you know her?” He says in a gentle tone, and you soften slightly at the interaction, feeling your soft spot for Tamaki grow as he interacts with the young girl. You imagine you can’t be the only one feeling it.

The young girl perks up, happy to help. “That’s Hina Kamishiro!”

“Her name is Hina?” Tamaki asks, still gentle in his inquiry.

She suddenly gets serious. “That’s right, but you better not fall in love with her.”

A small chuckle emits itself from the prince’s mouth. “Why not?”

“Didn’t you know?” The small girl asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Hina has to move away soon. Her dad just got a new job in Germany, so they have to move there at the end of the week.”

You and Kyoya meet eyes, both of you connecting this recent piece of information to all of Shiro’s previous actions. It made perfect sense.

“What are you idiots doing here?!”

A deeper, but still pre-pubescent, voice interrupts their conversation, and the hosts look to see Shiro in the doorway of the classroom. He walks up to the eight of you, ignoring the girl with the white rose. “I want you to leave immediately!”

But Tamaki is not stunned. Instead, after a moment to think, Tamaki reaches down and scoops up the younger kid, Mr. Salling completely oblivious to the actions happening outside of his practice room. After throwing Shiro over his shoulder, Tamaki leads the host club out of the school. Trudging along, you drag your feet, unenthused about having a kid back in the music room.

The soft tone that Tamaki used with the little girl was gone when they got back to the clubroom. Heaving Shiro from off his shoulder, the kid bounces on the couch, shock inhibiting him from speaking.

“Tamaki, what are you-” You were about to scold him for tossing Shiro around like a sack, no matter how funny it was, but the prince cut you off, disappointment and anger twisting through his words like vines.

“What is your problem, you big idiot?!” Shiro yells, his voice cracking slightly from the volume.

Tamaki huffs, his eyebrows creasing with restrained emotion. “I’m sorry, but you’re the idiot! You said that you wanted me to teach you how to make women happy, but that’s not it, is it? You’re not concerned with the happiness of just any woman.”

You jumped in, catching onto where Tamaki was going with this. “You’ve got your sights set on one woman in particular. You only care about Hina Kamishiro.”

Tamaki moved to kneel in front of Shiro, taking on a sort of brotherly aura. “Listen Shiro, I know I told you it’s the job of a host to make every guest happy, but when you care for someone, you must find the courage to express what is in your heart!”

Your head turned as Tamaki stood again, a determined look in his eyes as his words resonated throughout the host club. “You have to tell her how you feel! You didn’t come to me wanting to be a full-fledged host, you wanted to be a full-fledged man.”

Your breath was hitched when you subconsciously met Kyoya’s eyes during Tamaki’s speech, swallowing at his indirect advice. When you realized that you had slowly fallen into his gaze once again, a blush burned your cheeks as you smiled slightly and looked back to the front, heartracing.

Kyoya’s heart matched your pace.

A sigh brought your attention back to the couch as Shiro dipped his head, his bangs falling sadly in front of his face. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve run out of time. I just- I wanted to hear her play before she left…that’s all.”

Just as your heart slowed down, it broke in two at his admission. Forgetting your vendetta against him, you knelt down beside him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“That piece she played…it’s Mozart’s Sonata in D major for two pianos, isn’t it?” You asked him, sweetness pouring out of your voice like sugar.

He looked at you in slight amazement. “How did you know?”

Another soft smile graced over your lips. “We have the same music teacher.”

With a slight tilt of your head, the prince walks over a large sheet near the back center of the music room. He pulls it away like a curtain, the fabric floating through the air before billowing to the polished tile.

The host club relished in the sight of a glorious grand piano, barely used to the point where it was basically brand new. The window behind it surrounded the instrument in the light of the sunset, but the image wasn’t complete until Tamaki sat down behind it.

“Wait a minute, since when was there a grand piano in here?” Haruhi asked.

The twins smirked as they turned to look at her. “Well, this is a music room.” Hikaru stated.

“So why wouldn’t there be a piano?” Kaoru asked, expecting the frustrated look Haruhi gave them.

A smirk tightened on Kyoya’s lips. “This is a music room after all.”

“It is a music room.” Mori adds with a curt nod while Honey stuffed his face.

“It’s always been there, we just had it covered up.” The boy lolita explained through the crumbs of his cake.

Kyoya looked at you, expecting you to join in on the bit. And you would’ve, if Tamaki wasn’t playing the most beautiful thing you ever heard.

Your fingers caged around your mouth, trapping any sound that might disturb him as Tamaki’s finger moved expertly on the keys. The piece was perfect, technically and artistically as Tamaki brought his own emotion into the piece. The feelings translated so strongly that you fought to keep the tears in your eyes from falling.

It wasn’t everyday you got to hear Tamaki play. The first time was at one of the school’s recitals a while back. You had cried then too, not prepared for the sheer light of his content smile as he made every single audience member sit on the edge of their seat.

Since then, he played rarely, the most frequent being when you had asked him to teach you a song. He had laughed and pushed you onto the chair, and he spent the whole afternoon watching you fumble over the keys. Then it was your turn to laugh.

Now you need to learn how to listen to Tamaki play without crying.

Snapping out of your daze slightly, you look over to Shiro, hoping you’re not the only one struck with inspiration. You laugh softly when he looks as amazed as you do, his eyes fuzzy as he sinks deeper into his thoughts.

A touch on your shoulder drew your attention away from the little boy and onto Kyoya, who was giving you a soft look.

He glanced around the two of you before raising his hand to cradle your cheek. His thumb came up to wipe a stray tear that was rolling down, gentle and slow. The piano grew louder, the notes adding to the moment as a chuckle escaped his lips, watching your surprised face.

“I apologize if I’m intruding.” He said in a quiet voice, but he still moved closer, so as not to draw attention to the two of you. “It’s hard for me to see you cry without trying to help you.”

A wet giggle blows past your lips as you cover his hand with yours, leaning into his touch.

‘You must find the courage to express what it is inside your heart!’

“Not at all.” You say in an equal whisper, the music wrapping around the space where your hands touch and holding them still for a moment. “I would do the same, I think.”

‘You have to tell her how you feel!’

After a moment of forced motivation and relishing the sudden closeness, you both drew synchronized breaths, speaking at the same time.

“Kyo-”

“(Y/n)-”

Both of you gaped at the other. Kyoya quickly closed his mouth and swallowed into a small smile, while you laughed slightly at the accident.

Ever the gentleman, Kyoya waited. “Please, after you.”

Feeling more confident as the music swelled to a dramatic ending, you licked your lips slightly before trying again.

“Kyoya, there’s something I need to tell you.” You moved both of your hands to the space between you, putting your other hand over his so you can grasp it tighter.

You took a deep breath as your heart began to race. Everything suddenly felt wrong.

Sensing the serious tone, the ravenet lifted an eyebrow, still waiting through your hesitation.

Your head dipped as the floor spun, and you were discreetly aware of how many people were around you, even if they weren’t paying that much attention to you. The realization that you were about to maybe lose the best person in your life struck you like a bad note, interrupting the perfect feeling you had just seconds ago.

The notes on the piano began to bang, Tamaki reaching the end of the piece with the dramatism that was expected from him, and you felt rushed. Like if you didn’t do it now, then the moment would be over.

Were you supposed to feel rushed?

The hand that you weren’t holding felt cool against your chin as Kyoya brought your gaze back to him, and the spinning world came to a halt.

“Are you alright, (Y/n)?” To him, your hands had gone tense on top of his, and the sweet look in your eye had turned a little wild.

He stepped even closer to you, trying to reassure you the best he knew how.

“Whatever it is you need to tell me, you can say it. You can trust me.”

Cool air rushed through your lungs as you took another deep breath in the space of peace that Kyoya gave you. The wild look in your eye dimmed into a determined look, accented with a bit of nervousness.

Your lips parted, and your voice was breathy as you muscled out the words you had kept hidden for all these months, maybe even years.

“Kyoya…I-”

“That was awesome, Tama-chan!”

The moment shattered like glass, your confidence breaking with it as you realized that Tamaki had stopped playing, and was rising to get out of his seat.

Both you and Kyoya panicked slightly, firmly aware of your proximity to each other, and jumped away, unclasping your hands and holding them back at your side.

As Tamaki detaches himself from the piano, you fight the blush that lingers on your cheeks, trying to cope with the whiplash of being so close to expressing how you felt in front of everyone, just because of some motivational words and good piano playing?

It all happened so quickly. What were you thinking?

But Tamaki's voice filters back into your focus. “For the next week,” he speaks to Shiro, “you will spend your mornings, lunches, and free time after school in piano lessons with me.”

Shiro scrunched his brows, looking as confused as you were. “But why?”

The prince laughs softly. “You wanted to be my apprentice, didn’t you? Besides, that young lady looked like she wanted nothing more than to play the piano with you.”

He begins to play again, and you sneak a look over to Kyoya, with his jaw tense and pulsing.

You hung your head back down. He didn’t look happy.

Everyone knows Kyoya is one of the most observant people in the room. His entire life, his mind was sharpened to process even the tiniest of details. Surely, he already knew what you were going to say to him.

And he looked angry and sad because of it.

Of course he did.

When piano notes filled the air, you couldn’t stand the emotion of it all. Turning on your heel, you silently left without another word.

sorry it took so long! here is a long chapter to tide you over till the second part! please comment if you can, i love reading them :)