#lavender / open. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ellssbellss · 9 months ago

Note

Hey! I love your writing so much, especially lavender roses! I was wondering if you could write a Host Club x reader who has a lot of random hobbies (woodworking, painting, fencing, singing, writing, etc)?

I just know that if I had Ouran money, I’d have so many more hobbies. Thank you!

my life is a little hectic right now, as all you lovely people know. but I had this written, or most of it anyway, and I wanted to post it :) thank you for your patience with me while I deal with this difficult time, and for your amazing request!

The Hosts and their S.O. with too many hobbies! {Ohshc x Gender Neutral!Hobbiest!Reader}

missing Honey and Haruhi - will add them when I can!

.oOo.

Tamaki’s reader:

Ballet

Gardening

Painting

Tamaki’s eyes sparkled as you leaped across the stage, never daring to look away from your sculpted body framed in the dramatic stage lights. Tears had been glistening in his violet eyes since your first pirouette, and now he was wiping his cheek every chance he could get. Quickly, so he didn’t miss a single moment.

The prince was left breathless as you danced. The art of ballet flowed so naturally through your form, you looked like you belonged on that stage. Through the kaleidoscope of his tears, Tamaki sighed as you spun and jumped and just moved so fluidly, the emotion on your face making him feel with you.

Your technique dazzled every single member of the audience, and when you bowed, the blonde man was the first to shoot up from his seat. He shoved his palms together unceremoniously, whooping and cheering as everyone politely clapped around him, but he didn’t care. When you tipped your head up and found his wet eyes in the crowd with a playful smile on your lips, he knew he had never seen anything more beautiful.

Scratch that.

“Tamaki!” Your hand shot up from the sea of people filing into the theater lobby, and he zoned in on it. On a mission, a blonde head and a (h/c) head come closer together, pushing through the black suits and long dresses in order to greet the other. Finally, the waters part, and Tamaki takes in your glory with a grin.

“Mon amour…” He breathes, and it’s all you can do not to skip to him as you hold your pointe shoes in your hand. The bouquet of flowers he brought are set down in favor of catching your form and spinning you in the air. His hands come flat against your back as he buries his face in your neck, whispering your praises into your hair.

“You did so well, my love.” He feels your hands wrap tighter around his neck. “You’re so incredibly talented.”

Setting you down gently, he cradles your face. Your beaming at him, pride and adrenaline coursing through your pupils as you try to catch your breath, and he revises his initial thought.

This is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Your gorgeous features enveloped in pure joy.

Chuckling, his voice is like butter as he runs one of his fingers over your cheekbone. “How do you feel?”

“Amazing.” Your chest heaves, but your smile is bright. “Especially after seeing you in the audience.”

“Please,” He says, tugging you closer. “I never would’ve missed the opportunity to see you shine.”

Tamaki kisses you then, and you melt. His fingers are gentle against your jaw, peeking into your hairline for a moment as your lips meet sweetly. You hum when he pulls away, wacking him when he smirks at the blush on your face.

“Everytime.” He says, teasing you with a kiss to your cheek.

“Shut up.” You groan. “You can’t kiss me like that and not expect it to affect me.”

“Like what?” A blonde eyebrow quirks up. “Like this?”

He leans in again before someone clears their throat. A man with a collar too high on his neck gives you two a disapproving glare as he walks by, clearly upset by the dramatic display of affection.

You just giggle as the man moves on somewhere else. “Maybe we shouldn’t kiss like that in front of all these people.”

Tamaki rolls his eyes but steps away from you ever-so-slightly. “When you look at me like that, I can’t help myself.”

“Contain yourself.” You tease.

“That will never be possible, mon amour, when my heart can’t even contain its beat with you in this leotard.” Shrugging off his suit jacket, he drapes it around your shoulders. “Maybe cover up a little though, huh? Just for my sanity?”

Laughing, you pull your arms through the too big sleeves, basking in the cologne smell and the sense of security it brings you. “Okay. You can just take it off later.”

Tamaki’s eyes widen as a blush forms on his cheeks, but he grins. “You’re such a flirt.”

“Look who’s talking.” Putting your arm through his, you lean against his side and giggle, his stature supporting you like it always does. But as you turn him towards the front door of the theater, he gasps.

“Wait!” Your boyfriend quickly spins and grabs the flowers that were almost forgotten on the carpet, luckily not trampled by the crowd of opera goers.

“These…” Separating your arms softly, he stands in front of you, bowing as he holds out the gift. “...are for you, darling.”

He hears you gasp, and when he straightens, your eyes are wide and sparkling at the flowers in front of you. (E/c) pools scan every petal, every leaf and stem, and your hand gently cradles the buds.

“Tama…” Your voice is soft enough to not disturb the flora in front of you. “These are from my garden.”

He nods. “I wanted to make the bouquet special enough for you.”

“You wrapped them up so beautifully…” You breathe, and you scan them top to bottom. Your eyes pause at the bottom of the stems. “You didn’t give them a diagonal cut?”

A hand comes to cover his mouth. “Oh, no! I forgot to give them a diagonal cut!” Tamaki swallows before running a hand through his hair. “Before I fix it, of course, just remind me what that is.”

Your hair doesn’t jostle from the hairspray that holds your ballet hair together when you shake your head. “Silly prince. It’s when you cut the bottom of the stem diagonally when you pick them, so that they can absorb more water.”

“Oh…” And with that, a determined gleam twinkled in his eye. “That’s an easy fix! Let me find some scissors.” Quickly, he looks around the bustling lobby, waving his hand. “Who has scissors?!”

“No! No, Tamaki.” Laughing, you bring his hand back down to your side, cradling the large bouquet in your other arm. “It’s fine. Just remember for next time.”

He sees your throat bob, as if you’re holding something else back. “Is there something else, amour?”

You take a breath, fully prepared to deny anything, but you sigh, slumping your shoulders as another critique spills out of you. “And also, for next time, just get me chocolate? I work really hard on making sure these flowers stay alive, and they look much prettier on the bush they were grown on then arranged only to die in a few days.”

Your heart lunges when you see a darkened expression take over his face. “Oh my god, I killed your flowers.”

“That’s okay! It’s fine, roses are easy to grow this time of year, I promise.” You hurry to correct him, putting your palm on his jaw. “I was trying to make it special, I swear.” He whines. His hand comes to rest over yours on his cheek, his fingers grasping your own. “I just didn’t think about it that way.”

You simper at him. “It was special. Knowing how much care you put into arranging them like this is so special to me. Thank you, Tamaki.”

It’s your turn to kiss him on the cheek, and he practically melts. As you’re about to walk out of the busy theater, you feel Tamaki’s arms wrap around your form. He lifts you, cradling you like the royalty you are.

Before you can protest, he shoves your face into the crook of his neck, blonde wisps tickling your cheeks. “Your poor legs, they must be so sore after all that dancing.”

“I can walk just fine.”

“I know.” He squeezes you closer to his chest, and your arms betray your words as they wrap around his neck.

Tamaki takes you back to your home, your parents having missed the recital in favor of a business trip somewhere. There was a long shower, a hot meal, and plenty of cuddling and soft touches before the evening sky touched down into night, and the moonlight poured into the large windows of your place.

Now, he leans on the couch, his feet propped up as he stretches his long form across the length of the white cushions. The serene night fluttered as he opened his eyes from a lazy nap he took, inhaling the scent that was so perfectly you. It calmed him.

To his side, a clanking sound rang into the quiet space. He slowly turned his head to see you gently setting a cup of tea onto one of the side tables. He meets your sheepish gaze when you realize you woke him up, biting your lip.

“I know you’re better at making tea, but I tried.” You offer, spinning the saucer with two fingers so that the handle was facing him. A sweet smile pulls his beautiful face as he sits up.

“Thank you, mon amour.” Reaching for the tea cup, he sees that you are about to walk away from him towards the arching window in your bedroom, the one that looks out over your garden. There is a paint easel set up facing the view, a nearly-exact replica of it being portrayed on your canvas.

Tsking, he lightly grips your wrist, putting pressure to spin you back around. With a yelp, you fall seamlessly across his lap, his arm bracing your back.

“I didn’t get to thank you properly.” His voice rumbles, and his lips are pressed to yours again, leaving you to soften into a lovesick puddle. Your mouths move once, twice, and you can’t resist holding him there for a third time before you separate. His violet eyes transfix on your features, a gentle smile on his lips.

“What?” You ask, laughing as he zones out once again. There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he sinks into his, what you like to call, mental theater. “Tamaki, you’re staring.”

Blinking, that sparkle in his eyes fades, but not very much. A finger comes out and wipes off a smear of paint from your cheek. “No, I’m falling, amour. All over again.”

Humming, you pick his chin back up into your grasp. “Then I’ll be here to catch you, darling.”

A cherry blush coats his cheeks when you initiate the kiss this time, and he makes a sound of pleasure against your lips. When you pull away, he is stuttering and hiding behind the tea cup. Chuckling, you watch his hand shake slightly as he tries to regain his cool. “You okay there?”

“What? Of course, I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” He rambles, taking a very purposeful sip of the tea you brought him. Then his cheeks bulge, struggling to hold the liquid in his mouth.

“Oh god, it’s terrible, isn’t it?” You say, covering your mouth.

Tamaki shakes his head, but he is breaking out into a nervous sweat.

“Tamaki, spit it out if you don’t like it.” Urging him, you push the cup back to his closed lips. He refuses, his face turning a slight shade of green.

“Tama!” You laugh a little, pleading with him. His grip on the tea cup tightens, and you see the struggle in his swallow as he forces it down his throat.

“G-great as always, angel.” He lies, still wincing at the aftertaste. “Oh mon dieu…” He curses underneath his breath.

Rolling your eyes, you place the cup back on the saucer. “You don’t have to lie.” You insist with a teasing smirk.

A weak grin escapes his full lips. “You are such a talented person, (Y/n).” He starts, nuzzling into your shoulder. “You’re perfect.” And even as his stomach turns, he is grateful to have a significant other with many talents, even if making tea isn’t one of them.

.oOo.

Kyoya’s reader:

Debate club

Woodworking

Reading

Long legs race down the hall, dressed in perfectly iron slacks and shined dress shoes. His black book is clasped in his hand as Kyoya turns another corner, the door to his destination finally coming in sight. Breathing a sigh of relief, the megane fixes his glasses, gray eyes trained on the entrance down the hall.

Students are bustling outside of the auditorium, waiting in line as the start time for the debate draws nearer. Kyoya, at his height, pushes past his fellow peers, easily being able to see over the ocean of yellow dresses and lavender jackets.

Before he can reach the heavy double doors into the theater space, he’s stopped by a hand at his arm.

“Excuse me, sir, but you can’t enter the auditorium yet. Not until I’ve been given the green light.” The voice of a security guard sounds over the noise of side conversations, and Kyoya’s dark lashes flick up to meet her stern ones. Clearing his throat, he gently detaches his arm from her grip. He matches her polite smile, a fake one stretching his own lips.

“I understand, Miss. But I’m actually late. I was supposed to meet someone backstage, but I unfortunately got mine and their schedules muddled.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but these doors are closed to the public until the start time.”

Squinting slightly, his host smile grows a little longer on his pale skin. “It’s Miss Kato Hisa, isn’t it?”

The security guard’s eyes widened, knowing that her name tag had been lost in her car for weeks now. “Yes, sir. Have we met?”

“Not formally, no.” Tucking his black book under his arm, he reaches his palm out, grasping her hand in greeting. “I am Ootori Kyoya. Third son to the Ootori family.”

Her hand tightened in his before he let it drop, and she gasped excitedly. “Oh, my gosh, I didn’t realize! Your police force is the top force in the nation.” She smiles sheepishly. “I actually submitted my application a few weeks ago–”

“I’m well aware.” His deep voice cuts her off. “My family only accepts the best, you know. But, I’m sure my father and the chief of the force could be urged in a different direction, with the proper motivations.”

Hisa’s grin widens. “Wow, Ootori-san, that would be amazing! I would be so grateful–”

“If I could be let in now, then you may have your chance.”

Her grin falls. “But, I can’t do that, sir. I am under strict orders not to let anyone in until the appropriate time.”

“Then I’m afraid your application would fall to the bottom of the pile unseen.” Kyoya’s facade is too sweet for his words. “Forgotten.”

The security guard’s face falls into a thin line, searching the Ootori son’s eyes for the joke, or a speck of unseriousness. Of course, she will find none. She can’t read him the way you can.

“You’re cruel.” Swallowing, her fingers grip around the door handle. Pulling it open a crack wide enough for his lithe frame to slip through, she mumbles as he passes. “Enjoy the debate.”

“Thank you, I will.” His tone is low as he moves down the aisles to the sides of the stage. What a weak integrity, he muses, flying down the carpeted stairs. She couldn’t last a day on our police force.

Soon, he hears bustling from behind the debate stage, and he swishes the curtains to the side, slipping into a crowd of debate teams. A stormy gaze sweeps over the crowd, looking for a conglomerate of dark blue suits, the official uniform of the Ouran Debate Team. Once he finds them, he makes a beeline for an (h/c) individual bouncing their leg, a historical fiction novel in their hands.

He simpers at the genre. You only read historical fiction when you’re nervous.

You don’t hear the click of his dress shoes before he is stopped right in front of you, too engrossed in the story to pick out your boyfriend’s movements.

“(Y/n).” That voice shocks you from your trance, and you sweep your gaze up from your seat to find Kyoya smirking down at you, a little flushed. Gasping, you stand immediately, a wide smile taking over your lips.

“Kyo.” You greet him happily, placing your book onto a lone table next to you. “I’m so glad you made it.” Reaching out, you fix a strand of his hair that had been sticking up from his wind-swept look. Then you notice his rapid breaths and his pink cheekbones.

Chuckling a bit, your smile grows. “Are you okay? Did you run here?”

Scoffing, he rolls his eyes at you. “Of course not. Just a brisk walk.” He steps closer, the palm not grasping his journal resting onto your hip. “I apologize for being late. I got the dates confused.”

“The dates?”

Nodding, he flips open the famous black book as he pulls you a little closer into his side so that you could see. You lean into his shoulder as he shows you the section that acts as his planner.

“I thought your debate was tomorrow, when, in reality, your woodworking exposition is tomorrow evening. Since your exposition starts an hour later, I incorrectly believed I had more time to work on my club’s budget.”

“You do tend to get lost in the numbers.”

His eyes slip past you to the book next to you. “We all have our methods of escape.”

“I can’t argue with that.” You agree, (e/c) meeting thunderstorms.

“Now, that’s not true.” He teasingly gestures to your debate team. “Isn’t that the point of all this?”

Groaning, you lay your head on his shoulder. “Don’t remind me.”

“(Y/n), my dear.” Pulling apart from you slightly, he takes your hands in his. They are smaller, and he likes that he can encapsulate them in his grasp, keeping them safe. “You’re nervous.”

“You know, it’s not like you to state the obvious.”

“It’s not like you to be so anxious.” He retorts. “You are usually very confident in your debate abilities.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him, a smirk blooming onto your lips. “But being nervous is a natural reaction. Especially when talking about competition.”

“But don’t you agree that confidence is a more helpful emotion?” He responds, eyeing the smart style you have slicked your hair into. “Empirical evidence supports that people achieve more when they are of competent mind, instead of pushing themselves down.”

You take a step forward into his space, your shoulders back. “True. However, a study recently conducted in Switzerland concluded that when an individual person is nervous, or feels anxiety, they tend to work harder towards their goal, as their brain specifically prioritizes that achievement rather than any other.”

He hums thoughtfully, also taking a step forward. “Is that so? Wouldn’t more anxiety hinder that ability to do well? Some people succumb to the state of nervousness. Students procrastinate all the time in fear of not doing well, so they don’t end up actually starting.”

Your hands swing lower, till clasped together as you inch forward even more, his angled face only a few breaths from yours. His eye-line makes a triangle shape across your features, going from your left pupil, to your full lips, and then your right.

“Maybe so, if you are specifically talking about education.” Your voice drops a little lower, falling into a bubble with him. “But in competition, especially group sports like debate, there is an added social pressure. Competitors are not only nervous about their own preparedness, but how that preparedness might affect their team, a team that relies on them. Those anxieties grouped together enhance an individual's motivation to do well.”

Kyoya’s heart drummed a little faster in his chest. Here you were, standing in front of him in a very flattering suit, the color striking against your skin tone. Your words were concise, your tone was steady, and your touch had already been drawing him closer into you. His throat had gone dry at your smart demeanor, your intellect shining in the reflection of his spectacles.

He needed to pull himself together.

But he indulged a little more, pulling one of his hands away from yours to grasp your chin in his fingers, tugging your temptations into his hold. “I yield.” He murmured.

Before your lips could connect, however, another student from the opposing debate team jostled his shoulder. You steadied him as the student grumbled under his breath. “Get a room. Fucking horny high schoolers.”

Kyoya glared daggers at the man, already calculating the next strike to his reputation before he heard your laughter. He felt you pry his fingers off of you, and he turned to see you smiling curiously at him, the sharp edges of his gaze already softening.

“Kissing in public?” You tease, placing a small peck on the inside of his palm. “Being late has made you so scrambled.”

Scoffing, he turns your head to the side. Favoring a far more appropriate kiss on the cheek, he responds in your ear. “You’re right, what was I thinking? You have to win to earn it.”

A gasping breath rushes through your lungs. “So not only am I competing in the finals for my debate team, I’m also competing for my boyfriend’s affection.” You narrow your gaze. “You're cruel.”

He smirks, and now it’s your turn to feel a skipped heartbeat. “So I’ve been told.”

But you hum, leaning closer. “If I don’t deserve a kiss from my boyfriend, I guess you don’t deserve the present I made for you.”

A black eyebrow raises. “You have a gift for me? Isn’t it my place to get you a gift before your critical night?”

“Yes, and I’m fully expecting whatever incredibly thoughtful gift you’ve managed to hide from me up until this point. Because I know you got me something to commemorate this day.” Turning, you move to your backpack, shuffling through it. “But I made this in Wood Shop. Just to clear my head before tonight.”

Pulling the wrapped object out of your bag, you hand it to him, beaming proudly at him. Gently, he takes it from you, immediately trying to guess what it was from the weight and size of the box.

“I’ve been trying woodcarving more often than actual carpentry.” You explain as his pianist fingers unwrap the present. “I wanted you to have my first successful product.”

God, he was almost disgusted at how bright his heart was glowing, how much lighter it became at your words. Swallowing, he pulled a nearly black object out of the decorative box, his lips parting at the sight.

A carved rose laid elegantly between his fingers. The detail was impeccable, the petals imitating something delicate even if it was created from something so solid. The flower was heavy in his grasp, but with its weight came an accurate beauty. He hadn’t really studied the skill it would take to create something like this, but he planned to do some extensive research when he was able.

Still, he knew it took an intense study on angles, and an assured hand to make cuts in the right places. Kyoya also realized the time, the focus, and the determination that someone must have to make something as perfect as this. To see an image in the wood and reveal it to the world.

The Ootori son gently began to put the rose back into the box.

Your lip worried between your teeth. “It’s made out of Gaboon ebony, which is the darkest wood available in nature. I know you have a very specific color scheme for your spaces, so I thought that would fit perfectly as a desk decoration.”

Kyoya met your gaze, placing the lid on the giftbox.

Shrugging, you shifted, wondering why a man of many words had gone silent. “And I don’t know why, but I thought a rose would be a good image. It’s romantic, sure, but…I don’t know, they have a grace to them that matches yours. In my eyes, at least.” You say.

A finger pushes up his lens as he steps towards you, placing the box slowly onto the same spare table you had set your book.

His cologne washes over you as he does, and you swallow. “Do you not like it? I could make you something else, maybe something a little sharper. A rose might’ve been too feminine–”

Your doubt is halted as Kyoya surges forward, both of his skilled hands framing your face as he pulls your mouth to his. Surprise sounds against where your lips meet before it dissolves into a wanting breath, tilting your head a little more to absorb as much of his spontaneity as you can.

It’s a closed kiss, but you both fit together like a puzzle piece, and you feel every unspoken emotion between you as he holds you to him, your own arms slipping to his waist.

When he breaks apart, you’re blushing deeply, eyes scattering to see if anyone saw the public display of affection, but the crowd was too busy with their own conversations of boosting morale and good luck.

You came back to the moment, taking a breath as you clasp your hands behind his back. “What was that for?”

His own voice was breathless, but the dazed look in his eyes sharpened, and his kissed lips smirked back at you. “You earned it.”

And even if your many talents and expositions busied his schedule, the smile that grew on your face and the way he had to gently shove you away before you stole another kiss made it worth it.

.oOo.

Hikaru’s Reader:

Kickboxing

Nail Tech

Sewing

“I’m gonna kill ‘em.”

“No, baby. You can’t do that.”

“No, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna kill ‘em.”

You sigh, holding a piece of gauze to your right cheek, and your other hand holds an ice pack to the back of your head. The swelling hadn’t gone down, so the skin was plump and red as you watched Hikaru pace the empty locker room. He ran his hands through his ginger locks, pivoting on his heel as he fumes.

Your costume fluttered around you. Since you made your own regalia, you had gone with a gold look this time. A spandex material grabbed against your muscled, shining in the metallic color, with stylish cut outs where you felt really emphasized your figure. Your hair had subtle gold streaks through it, but you were most proud of the cape you had draped over your shoulders.

It was embellished with a gold trim and heavy velvet fabric, something you wore before you entered the ring. It was luxurious, elegant, and it matched the same color in Hikaru’s eyes, already making you love it even more.

Hikaru made sure to find a pair of boxing gloves that matched, and he even offered to do your makeup before your match. He swiped gold eyeshadow over your (e/c) pools, and yellow gems traced under your waterline.

He had pretended to not be able to look at you, saying that you shine too brightly and he couldn’t stand your beauty any more.

Now, with these scratches and minor swellings, he wouldn’t look at you. Not in your sparkling eyes, at least. Only at the scratches.

“Hikaru. Kyoya would kill you if you murdered someone. You’d have to go to prison, leaving him down one Brotherly Love package.”

He puts his hands on his hips, pulling his lips between his teeth. “No, I don’t care. Kaoru will figure something out.”

He pauses when the referee of your most recent kickboxing match walks through the door. The ref clicks the door behind him, making eye contact with you as he makes his way towards you, the actual competitor.

But someone else wanted to step into the ring. A blur of orange stepped into the ref’s path, ginger clashing with black and white. “You’re gonna do something about that, right?”

The ref sighed, putting his hands up in a surrender move. “Sir, there isn’t much we can do–”

“No, shut up. You’re gonna fucking do something, right?” Hikaru gestures wildly, his eyes wild as he gets into the referee’s space. His arms direct over to you, his golden eyes scanning over your injuries for the millionth time. “Look at the love of my life. Look at them. I mean, something has to be illegal here, right? Those hits, they weren’t–, I mean, they were unconscious and they kept going!”

“Hikaru, please.” You say, bringing the gauze to another cut right above your eyebrow, chuckling a little bit. “Let the man speak. Maybe to the actual competitor. ”

Huffing, Hikaru turns to you, eyes fierce. But that fire melts into a warm sunlight as he realizes the fact that your hands are full trying to stop the bleeding and the swelling on your own. Exasperated, it takes two strides for him to be by your side.

“What’re you doing? Trying to do this yourself…” He criticizes, but you know there isn’t any fire behind it. Taking the ice pack, he grumbles, glaring daggers at the referee that moves to sit across one of the benches in the locker room. Hikaru holds the ice pack to your face, his other hand rubbing up and down your back softly.

The ref’s eyes look over the pair of you, sighing deeply. You rolled your eyes as the referee shuffled on the bench, looking guiltier by the second.

“I know I should’ve stopped them.” He admitted. “I hadn’t realized you were down for the count.”

You shift the gauze against your cheek. “Just be glad it didn’t result in anything more than a few scratches. But you should’ve been paying attention.”

Hikaru opens his mouth, but you shake your head. The referee nodded his head before hanging it.

“I know.” He spoke, clasping his hands in front of him. “You are usually such a good competitor, (Y/n), I thought you were going to get back up.”

Hikaru scoffed. “Are you pinning this on them?” He growled as he gripped the ice pack tighter. “That they should’ve been a better fighter so they didn’t get K.O.’d?”

“Hikaru–” You warn, but your boyfriend was nothing if he wasn’t stubborn, his fierceness burning under the surface.

“Of course not!” The referee stuttered. “I was only trying to explain–”

“Yeah, well, all I hear are excuses.” Hikaru bites, the arm on your back becoming tighter around your shoulders. “Get your boss in here. I want to speak to them.”

The man across from you gulped. “Are we sure that’s necessary?”

The Hitachiian twin’s teeth must’ve been razor sharp the way he barred them at the ref. “One hundred percent. I have no idea how ref’s like you get hired anyway, but I want to see who was dumb enough to actually sign the paper.”

“Baby, that’s enough.” You were scowling, but on the inside you couldn’t help but laugh at the way the ref’s face morphed from horror to the acceptance of his fate.

“Of course, sir.” Sighing, the referee offers one last apology before scratching the back of his head, the locker room door swinging behind his exeunt.

Hikaru was still muttering to himself as he brushed your hair out of your face, the strands wet with the sweat on your forehead. “Fucking people, don’t know how to do their jobs…”

“Hikaru…” Your voice is gentle as you pull the ice pack and gauze away from your face, your attractive features finally looking a little more normal. Your hand frames his cheek, and the anger in his eyes completely goes away. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“I know that.” He frowns, the rasp in his voice carrying a sigh. But you could tell his eyes were still scanning your skin, making sure there weren't any other injuries that he missed. “And you’re tougher than you look.”

“Exactly.” A proud smirk plays on your lips.

“Plus,” That smirk that both annoys you and warms you rises to his mouth. “You’ve got a pretty thick skull. I think you could take a few more hits before it becomes a problem.”

Scoffing, you push him away. “I’m gonna hit you if you don’t shut up.”

“I think I wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh really?” You wrap your arm around him, bringing him closer. “You’re a freak.”

“You’re a tease.” His canines sparkle when he smiles, and it’s all you can do to make the kiss you two share as short as possible. Otherwise, the way he gently cradles your face, or how his lips move against yours would pull you in forever.

A door swinging open interrupted your bliss anyway, and you two jumped apart. Hikaru groaned softly, a small blush coming onto his scowling cheeks.

A woman in a fine pressed suit walked across the tile, her heels echoing within the locker room. You recognized her as the manager of the ring in which you’ve had most of your kickboxing matches, and you rose to meet her.

“(Y/n).”

Clutching her hand, you shake it gently, aware of your sore shoulder. “Nice to see you again.”

Hikaru just folds his arms in the background, standing at your side. The manager gives a sidelong glance before giving you a business smile.

“I wanted to personally apologize for the oversight our referee had during your match tonight.” She says, her lip gloss catching the fluorescent lights above. “You are one of our most beloved fighters, the audience loves you and your unique costumes and looks.”

In her handshake, the manager felt the smooth texture on your fingernails, and turned your hand over in hers. “Your vibrant, fearless creativity inspires many people in our kickboxing world, even if you are a little unorthodox.”

Your nails are painted with a metallic background, and when she presses your fingernails together, they create a picture of an intricate, swirling gold dragon across your nail beds. It was beautiful, it was detailed, and it had been incredibly time consuming.

You kept your nails short, and the art was absolutely covered by your kickboxing gloves, but it made you feel powerful knowing that you creation was there, even if you were the one of two who knew it.

The manager's dark eyes slid to your boyfriend who had crossed his arms, still glaring daggers at the lady. She just smiled, her gaze dropping to where his hands were visible in the crevice of his elbow.

“And it seems you have a supportive partner, as well.” She comments, causing both of your eyebrows to crease before you realize what she is talking about. Hikaru flared out his own hands, and how you had done a small but still detailed nail piece on his own hands. His fingers matched yours in color and style, but instead of having the dragon across all five of his fingers, there was a baby one swirling on his thumbs and ring fingers.

He huffs, a smirk coming to his lips as he looks at your art for the millionth time today. “Yeah, they’re pretty incredible.”

“I don’t doubt it.” The manager nods, a sweet smile on her lips. “Both in the ring and out of it, you are definitely a prize. Which is why we’d like to give you one.”

“You want to give me a prize?” You ask, a little surprise leaking into your voice. “For losing?”

The manager hums. “More for winning over the crowd, or for keeping this little instance between us. No one was seriously injured, and–”

“How about I give you the same bruises that competitor gave my partner, and then we’ll see what you think counts as ‘seriously injured’.” Hikaru growls, cracking his knuckles. He steps forward, but you stop him with your arm.

“Threatening them won’t do anything.” You sigh, but your mouth turns into a scowl. “But I’m not taking your ‘hush’ money.”

“Well,” The manager scoffs, her calm facade cracking slightly. “We must do something. If you are to continue to fight here, then all of us have to–”

“They aren’t gonna fight here anymore, then.” Hikaru’s voice cuts through the manager’s pompous assumptions, and he grabs your hand, gently moving you around her straight posture.

Her heels clack as she follows you in earnest. “Wait, you can’t speak for them.”

But as you follow behind your boyfriend, a man who is angry for your safety and your honor, you spin around, smirking through your scratches as you give them the middle finger. “You’re right, he can’t. But, even if it’s rare, he’s right. I’m out of here.”

Her slick ponytail is fraying. “But, you can’t! You have a contract!”

Hikaru mirrors your actions, and now you both are flipping her off as you back out of the locker room, your glorious cape draped across his arm.

“I’ll pay whatever it takes to break ‘em out of it,” He says, his smirk growing. “And for you to leave them alone.”

Then, you both do a lazy salute as you finally step out of that locker room, out of that situation.

Laughing, Hikaru stops his walking, causing you to stumble into him. He catches you, and you both break out into a fit, holding onto each other as you walk to his car.

Easily, he presses you up against the passenger side, using a finger to push a piece of gold-painted hair back into place. His other hand comes to gently cup the other side of your face, his thumb lightly tracing a scratch on your cheekbone.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” He says, his scratchy voice vibrating into the setting sky. “Gotta get you bandaged up, baby.”

.oOo.

Kaoru’s Reader:

Sketching

Baseball

Writing

“You know,” Kaoru said, pins between his teeth as he took them out of the bodice of your outfit one by one. “Everytime we do this, I still get distracted by you. Everytime.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes even as a blush comes to your cheeks. “You’re an even worse flirt than Tamaki.”

A groan sounds behind you as you feel hands pry the bodice off of your torso. “Don’t talk about the Boss when I am literally undressing you.”

Cool, conditioned air rushes across your newly bare skin as Kaoru throws the garment across the car seat, the leather sticking to your back as you lean into it. Arching your hips, you tug the bottom of your dress pants off, making sure the divider was up between you and your boyfriend’s family driver.

“You sure he can’t see us?” You ask, wiggling out of your underwear.

Kaoru sets the pins into his cushion, smiling. “Per usual, no.” Then the redhead turns, his smirk revealing a sharp canine. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing?”

“Kaoru!”

He cackles, but he can’t help his eyes when they drag over your bare form. Yes, changing clothes in his car was a normal thing due to your busy schedule with your many hobbies, but he never got tired of having you naked in his backseat.

He tsks. “Are you sure we don’t have time to–”

The pants you had been wearing flew into his face. “No!” You sounded a laugh as he pulled the garment off his head, and you chuckled at the way his red hair fluffed when he did.

His pale hand reaches down and grabs the duffel bag, packing the black tie outfit you wore to your art show into it and pulling out your team uniform. You pulled on the right undergarments that would support you sliding across the dirt in a baseball diamond, and caught your jersey when Kaoru threw it at you from across the car seat.

“Going from riches to rags.” He says, arranging your cleats next to you with the appropriate socks.

“You literally made these uniforms, babe.” You say, deadpanning as you squeeze yourself into the form-fitting bottoms.

“I know that.” He says, eyeing the way your toned body fills the sporty look nicely. “But I much prefer the elegant attire that I pinned you into earlier.”

“Oh, I forgot to mention.” You add, distracted as you put the baseball cap on your head, your team logo facing out towards the front seat. “Everyone loved what I was wearing.”

His lips quirked to one side. “Well, duh.”

“Expectedly so.” You tighten your belt around your waist. “But this afternoon’s outfit was…well it was just really spectacular.” Your smile reflects against the city lights.

Now dressed in the full baseball regalia, you lean over to your own personal fashionista, putting a finger under his chin.

“I’m really lucky to have Japan’s second best fashion designer as my quick-change roadie.”

Any sweetness in Kaoru's eyes vanishes, and a second after your lips are a breath away, he is pushing you to the other end of the backseat. “Oh yeah? Then someone else can get you dressed for your book reading tomorrow.”

You gasp. “Oh no. Whatever will I do without the expert way you zip a zipper?”

The Hitachiuan twin feigned offense. “That’s what I majored in.”

“And what about your knowledge on what colors I look best in? I’ll be so washed out.”

He crosses his arms, still looking at you with a smug simper. “You’ll just have to figure it out.”

Shrugging, you cross your legs, your cleats knocking against each other. “I guess I’ll just have to find someone else to undress me in the backseat of their family’s car.”

A hum sounds to the other side of you, like honey being poured into tea. “Now that’s something I know no one can do better than I can.”

Two manicured hands are suddenly around your waist, and you are dragged across leather. The soft material of your pants are seated into Kaoru’s lap, while, like instinct, your arms wrap around his neck.

“I think we can finally agree on something.” You concede, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. The city rushes by outside of the limo’s glass, but time stands still when your lips touch. A pleased sound resonates in the back of his throat when you nip at his bottom lip, and you feel him smile into the kiss.

Pulling away, you share another longing moment before you groan, your head resting into the crook of his neck.

“Are you sure the art show went well?” You ask, hiding your insecurity as you bury your nose into Kaoru’s cologne.

Chuckling, you feel his hands casually lock around your hip. His cheek comes to rest on the top of your head, the two of you squished to one side of the seat. “I’m sure. You’re talented, you know that.”

“I do, but I’ve just been so distracted with everything that I have going on.” You can hear his pulse inside his throat, encouraging you to open up a little more. “I balance so much that it feels hard to put 100 percent of my effort into everything I do. I feel like I’m half-assing it.”

“(Y/n), babe.” He brings your face away so that you can look at him clearly. The driver makes a right turn, the force pushing the two of you closer together. “Sketching, sports, writing. All of these things are your life. You’re allowed to put your energy into multiple outlets at once, as long as it’s not draining you.”

“I don’t think it is.” And he knew that. He knew that even if you seemed tired after a hard day in the studio, or maybe a tough day at practice, the smile on your face was genuine. You always put everything you had into everything you did, and that was just one of the things he adored about you.

“My partner is an all star, author, and an artist.” Kaoru says, a proud glint in his golden eyes. “And you know what? Because of that, I’m never bored.”

“Thank god for that. It ceases your regularly-scheduled destruction.” You say, a finger twirling into his ginger strands. “Although Hikaru probably misses his partner in crime.”

Kaoru just shrugs. “Hikaru has always been able to create his own chaos, he’ll be fine.”

“So, if you have this much confidence in me, then you must think my first book reading tomorrow is going to go well too, right?”

“I couldn’t be more sure. I was able to read the whole thing, and I don’t think I’ve been able to finish a fiction book in my life.” The twin admits, and you smirk.

“Well, that’s obvious.”

His golden irises roll. “Very funny.”

“Then, what about this game?” You ask, looking out the window to see the baseball stadium peek out from the horizon. You still had a ways to go. “Think I’m gonna win?”

There was silence. You got lost in the city’s sparkling skyline a little longer before your gaze snapped down to your boyfriend’s, just to see him avoiding your gaze.

“Kaoru?”

“Huh? What?” He says, and he runs a hand over your jawline. “Wow, babe, you’re so beautiful.”

Scoffing, you lean away from him. “You don’t think we’re gonna win?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Kaoru, you only have so many thoughts that can fit into the pea-sized brain of yours.” You say, laughing. “You should not be wasting that space doubting me.”

“I will never doubt you.” He says, grabbing your hand that began to poke at his forehead to see if you could hear an echo.

“I will, however,” the Hitachiian brother raises your hand to his lips, “realize that while you are immensely talented, baseball is a team effort.”

You give him a blank look. “And my team sucks.”

He kisses your hand. “They suck so bad.”

And you're laughing. A few seconds ago, you were drowning into your anxiety, but Kaoru made you feel light enough to float above them all. Balancing multiple things at once was hard work, but having a man like him at your side made it easier.

Your laughter dies down, and there’s an extra spark in Kaoru’s eye that paired well with the city lights reflected in his pupils.

You hit his chest, even as he snakes kisses up your shoulder and onto your neck. “Kaoru, we can’t.”

“The stadium is still a ways away. We have time.”

Your skin tingles under his touch, and you sigh. “Kaoru…” You weakly try to push him away, but he holds onto your hips.

“(Y/n)…”

Huffing out a breath, you take off your baseball cap so you can properly kiss him without it bumping into Kaoru’s forehead. “Fine, but we have to be quick.”

His laughter rings out as he pulls you into his chest, and you are already second-guessing his intentions on making it quick as he draws his tongue slowly up your throat.

It’s a good thing the divider was up.

.oOo.

Mori’s Reader

Fencing

Yoga

Poetry

Swords clashed, the metal twinge sounding against the Hinoki cypress that covered the dojo’s walls. And each time you and your opponents’ swords would cross, your heart would pound in sync, both beats echoing with your efforts.

Thirteen touches. Your opponent had scored thirteen touches against you within this bout, and you were determined to not let him get the last two he needed to win. Lunging, your sabre jabs across the piste with a grunt from your lips, only to have it wacked away immediately by your competitor.

You clench your jaw as you ward off one of his own jabs, trying to see through the mesh of your fencing mask. The long torso of the man across from you twists, leaning to the right. But once you move to block it, he swerves, turning to the left and touching you in the ribs.

Huffing, you rip off your mask, your hair fluffing out once freed of the hard shell. “You’re kidding me.”

Mori easily slides off his own helmet, letting the smug grin on his face widen at the sight of your exasperation. His black hair fell slightly in front of his face before he pushed it out of the way, a few drops of sweat beginning to bead on the edge of his jawline.

Grumbling, you point your saber half-heartedly at him. “I’ve been fencing my whole life and you only started a couple months ago. How are you so good at this?”

He shrugged his shoulders in a way that was so irritatingly handsome, you had to force your head back into your mask.

“Again.” You demand.

With one hand, Mori effortlessly readjusts his own gear, and you both fall back into a fighting stance.

Your boyfriend had always been good at things without ever trying too hard. It seems he had an eerily accurate way of breaking any sport, art form, or hobby down to its basics, and extorting it in front of his opponents. Easily, he analyzed the strengths and weaknesses of any obstacle he was put up against, and bent them to his advantage.

He was smart, analytical, and having way too much fun watching you become frustrated as he brought you both to match point. You could tell by the way he stood, slightly bouncing on the balls of his feet to keep himself agile, his martial arts training coming in handy. He held his sword out with one arm, and the other bent at his back, but his shoulders were dropped low, a casual stance as he became more confident in his victory.

Growling, you lunged first, starting your combat again. You were aggressive, and you took pleasure in seeing his shoulders rise as he took a defensive position against your attacks. Arms burning, you swiped and slashed at his white suit, all of your fencing training becoming honed into this very moment. You were sure a soundtrack could be made to emphasize the way you moved forward, forcing him to step back and block any chaotic jabs and swipes that you threw his way.

You heard him gasp as his foot dropped off the piste, and his tall body tripped, falling backwards as you stood over him, the vertex of your sabre denting the clothing on his chest.

His chest heaved with the effort, and you crouched, once again pulling off your headwear. “That’s more like it.”

You pulled off his mask as well, this time leaving the thick strands that fell into his brown eyes. His confident smirk had been replaced with a slight scowl. Stepping in between his legs, you met his eye level.

“Fourteen to fourteen.” You bragged, letting your sword rest on your shoulder. “Now, we’re tied. Again.”

A displeased grunt came from the stoic's mouth.

“This little competition of ours has been fun.” You say, molding your voice to sound bored as you exhale, standing up and putting out a hand for him. “But it looks like I will emerge victorious.”

Your boyfriend’s visage fell blank, and he rolled his eyes before grabbing your hand and lifting himself up, towering over you as he folds his arms around your waist.

Bending like a branch in the wind, Mori tightens his hold as he presses you into his chest. One of his hands came to cup your face, forcing your gaze to focus on the small beads of sweat dancing across his skin. “We’ll see.”

Then he kisses your cheek, turns you around, and pushes you back to your end of the piste. Refusing to wipe the smirk off your face, you reset, readying your sabre with new confidence.

This time, you both take the offensive, aggressively sparring as your blades crash together in hurried movements. He blocks your jabs, and you leap over his attempts to sweep you off your feet, ignoring the legality of your movements. Sweat begins to gleam on your forehead under your mask, but your smile only grows.

As he takes another step to jab at your shoulder, you lean to the side, effectively dodging his attack to see that he has left himself wide open. Victory fuels your heartbeat as you lunge, even going as far as letting out a confident hah! as you aim the point towards the side of his ribcage.

Suddenly, Mori turned on his heel. With incredible speed, he swipes your sabre away as if he knew exactly where it was going to strike. He grunts as he pushes you back, both you and your sabre stumbling to the floor with his strength, and all you can do is sit there empty-handed as he juts the end of his sword right above your heart.

Huffing, you fall, letting your back hit the piste with a disgruntled groan. You hear a dark chuckle as steps move towards your fallen body.

“That’s fifteen.” Mori confirms as he stands over you, his already-tall form looking enormous from your position on the ground.

“Yes, I can count, thank you.” You grumble, ripping off your mask for the last time.

He puts pressure on the point where his own sword pinpoints your skin, your heart fluttering for different reasons when he reveals his face. Flushed, disheveled, and confident in his win.

The way his lips slightly lifted on either side, the way his dark chocolate eyes glimmered over your exhausted form. You wanted to kiss that smug look off his face.

But you wanted to win more.

Batting the sword away, he reaches out a hand to help you up, pulling you to your feet. The Ouran Highschool Gym bustles with students. Some engage in kendo matches that Mori observes silently, most likely learning from other’s mistakes.

Picking your sabre up from the aftermath of your loss, you gently raise the end under his chin, quirking an eyebrow as he tenses and focuses his gaze back on you.

“Your opponent is in front of you, Takashi. Shouldn’t you be paying attention?”

His gaze melted into something smooth and dark. “The game is over.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of his victory.

“Far from it.” The end of your blade dips gently into his skin for a second before you flick it away, nudging his chin softly. Turning from him, you call over your shoulder. “On to the next event!”

After changing out of your fencing attire, you’re sat across from him, a(n) (f/c) yoga mat splayed out below you as he sits atop a dark blue one. Given the charged looks he gave you before you entered a dressing room, you knew that it was game on. Both of your competitive spirits had been stoked, and you only had more motivation to kick that – admittedly very nice – ass of his.

Taking a deep breath, you let the air in the gym still around you. Yoga was another one of your hobbies that you enjoyed because it gave you a chance to center yourself in the midst of chaos a certain club instilled within your life. You had picked it up when you started high school, and even your teacher said you were a natural, as you were able to really embody the purpose and true zen of yoga.

Flicking your eyes towards your boyfriend, you find that he is already looking back at you, patiently waiting for your instructions on the next round of your spontaneous competition. His eyes are warm, the smallest of smiles on his lips as they track your figure, watching as you find peace in your posture.

Shaking your head affectionately, you rock on your hips, nudging him gently with your arm. “Stop staring and listen up. I’m gonna choose a pose, and whoever holds it the longest wins.”

Mori gives you a suspicious, playful glare. “But you’ll choose something that you’re good at. That I can’t hold.”

You smile, sickeningly sweet, and Mori rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

“Great!” Your grin only grows as you call out the position: Vrschikasana, or the Scorpion. Mori’s eyes flash in recognition, remembering the weeks you spent perfecting it while he trained in his dojo, and the knots he had to massage out of you afterwards.

You narrow your eyes, planting your palms on your mat. “Unless you want to give up?”

His dark gaze hardened before something fierce ignited in his visage. “No. It’s fine.”

You laugh, the sound echoing off the gym’s expensive walls – honestly, it really over the top for a physical center. Shifting your weight onto your hands, Mori follows your movements as you both lift into a handstand before arching your back, pointing your toes as they bend to touch the top of your head.

God, you loved the burn through your hamstrings, the strength of your muscles holding yourself up, seemingly weightless off the ground. You sucked in a breath, allowing your lungs to open up, your throat to loosen, and let yourself just breathe.

“You’re smiling.” A strangled voice drenched in disbelief observes next you, and you turn your head carefully so as to not knock your balance.

The chuckle that runs through you nearly does, though.

You catch yourself as you watch Mori’s arms start to shake, his breathing a little haphazard as he puts as much effort into the stretch as he can. You also watch as his muscles flex, his shirt discarded in order to cool off from your fencing tournament, eyes traveling as the lines flinch and twitch with the commitment to keep himself off the ground.

Mori was a strong guy. Defined, agile, and built with pounds of lean muscle. But yoga took a different kind of strength. It was a test of endurance and balance, a mental strength that knew no limits.

There was a reason you and Mori worked so well together.

About ten seconds from your record time holding this position, Mori topples, his legs falling over his head as he somersaults, landing with his back flat against the mat.

You chuckle, half concerned for his health from the fall, half gloating for your win. Easily coming back down to the ground, your breath heaves a little as you try to catch your breath.

“You okay, Takashi?” You ask, it being your turn to stand over him, smirking in victory.

He just grunts, giving you a bored look.

“Crybaby.” You say, sitting next to him.

“Show off.” He retorts, warmth in his eyes.

You laugh again, the rare insult leaving the exhausted stoic’s mouth. “Wanna do one more round?”

Mori’s eyes search yours for a second before nodding. “But I get to pick.”

“Sure, that seems fair.” You say, peeling back the hair on his forehead. “Go for it.”

He gets that thoughtful look in is gaze, a glint that taught you to wait patiently by his side in silence until he was comfortable to speak.

“Poetry.”

A surprised scoff left your mouth before you could stop it. Quickly, you cover your mouth, shaking your head. “Sorry, sorry. It just…that’s not a test of strength.” You say, laughing a little. As much as you loved poetry, reading and writing it, it seemed a little out of left field.

Mori shrugged his shoulders, still laid out on the floor. “Emotional strength.” He said, smart eyes smiling up at you softly.

And how could you argue with that?

Ten minutes later, sweatpants and pump covers are thrown back on your bodies as you both sit in a small corner of the gym, legs tangled as you lean against opposing walls. Notebooks in hand, your pens fly across the page, the scribbling sounds comforting as you each get lost in your own thoughts.

When it comes time to present, you go first. When Mori realizes you wrote yours about him, about how strong he was, and how safe he made you feel, it makes his tired, sore body slump against his side of the wall. His hand reaches out for yours, listening intently to your words.

His poem had a smaller word count, but the vocabulary was moving, and you laughed gently when you realized he wrote his about you. About how strong you were, and how safe you made him feel. And he held your hand the entire time he read it to you.

Let’s just say your game ended in a tie.

.oOo.

not proofread, but i enjoyed writing it!

hope you all have a great day. just give me some time to get back into the groove of things. writing is my escape, and i truly do love it. just need to find the energy :) love you <3

203 notes · View notes

ellssbellss · 2 years ago

Text

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!

Happy 1 year to Lavender Roses and this entire, wonderful blog. Without you, this story wouldn't have reached as many people as it has. From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much.

-> summary: "But not anymore. You haven’t been alone for a long time, (Y/n), not since you joined the club. Not since you met me."

-> word count: 25.6k (she extra, extra long just for you)

tw! the scene on the cliff gets a little intense, mentions of blood, demeaning language against women, slight PTSD, weaponry (knives), verbal assault, physical assault, sexual misconduct.

legend:

(M/n) - mother's name

(n/l) - native language

(s/c) - skin color

see masterlist! masterlist

taglist: @abbysblogsstuff @sunukissed @kisskissshutmydoor @idonia-dovahkiin @greensnakegoblep @vervainnnn @desert-fern @delievia @obeythemasters @luca-nightshade @sweetandsourwrites @wrzloyd @1234567890nono @inactivecrofters @katiebwalczak03 @reader3 @radical-bunny @stevexbucky404 @localgaytrainwreck

The Sun, The Sea, and The Host Club

Silence was so underrated.

Before the host club, you thought of yourself as a sole extrovert. At the wish of your mother, you did everything you could to make solid connections with the kids in your year, flapping your wings from friend group to friend group, thinking that social fulfillment was a simple blueprint of friends, tons of conversation, and no alone time.

But then you would come home, and the minute you stepped in your room, your energy would deflate like the school bag next to your desk, setting it down with a thud!.

The comforter on your bed would dip, giving way invitingly as you sprawled across the duvet. It would hug your figure, caressing every tired muscle and massaging every sense that might’ve been overstimulated. Familiar air would flow through your nose and into your lungs, and you could finally just sit in the silence.

Your stomach would dip in guilt, even as you selfishly indulged in the absence of sound; of people. The people in your school were nice, polite, and didn’t necessarily do anything for you to not want to be around them. It’s just that there was no connection. No undeniable force that pulled you to them, no little ball of light in your stomach after spending time with them. Maybe a business connection was made, but no connection of personality, of soul.

There was a connection, however, with the silence. With your parent’s interesting habit of constant travel, you learned to respect your own thoughts and instincts, and they became a reliable companion in your never-ending search for genuine companionship. Maybe a few had made their way past your standards, like the boy you kissed under the tree, or maybe a student who sometimes traded her lunch for yours.

But the silence was really your friend.

You didn’t realize how much you could fully enjoy it until you met the Host Club. Until you met Kyoya.

Because now, you had someone to enjoy it with.

On the same duvet, you laid on your stomach, casual lounge wear draping over your body like a soft breeze, comforting and refreshing compared to the uniform you were forced to adorn. Knees bent, your ankles crossed in the air above you as you flipped a page in your textbook, highlighting the most important sentence in the paragraph with a bright yellow highlighter before switching to a new color for secondary information. Your head rested in your hand as the other threaded the blue highlighter through your fingers, the sound of plastic clicking against the rings on your finger adding to the sound of typing and the occasional sigh.

Next to you, Haruhi reclined. Instead of her stomach, she rested on her back, your pillows supporting her weight as her arms braced a book. She was nearly at the end, her eyes focused as they zigzagged down the page before shifting to the next one, engrossed in the storyline of her historical fiction.

Reading the passage you were on until your eyes had gone crossed, you turned to Haruhi to ask how her book was going before a sharp twang hit the back of your head.

A pen fell onto the bed, and Haruhi met your eyes in surprise before you both heard snickering behind you.

Rolling your eyes, you turned to see Hikaru and Kaoru fight to stop their shaking shoulders as they went back to their Nintendo games. Their thumbs turned the joysticks with no real purpose; they just wanted to look innocent.

It didn’t take much thought for you to chuck the highlighter in your hands back at them, smacking Hikaru in the forehead.

The two armchairs your mom had picked out to accent your bedroom made it hard to escape your impeccable aim as you sacrificed another writing utensil, a pencil thumping against Kaoru’s chest. The twins gasped a little, before they smirked and shrugged, placing the study tools on the small table between them, making it clear you were not getting them back.

A frustrated growl lovingly rumbled in the back of your throat as you turned to rifle through your bag, intending to pull out your entire pencil case for more ranged weapon options, before your eyes met with a deep brown.

Mori arched an eyebrow at you as he sat on a bean bag that decorated your floor, encouraging a silent conversation between the two of you. His eyes squinted slightly, as if to say Don’t do it.

Scoffing, you gestured lightly to the gingered haired brothers as they continued to ignore you, mischievous smiles playing on their faces as they watched the interactions between you.

The stoic just shook his head, his earphones dangling lightly on his ears as he turned his attention back to his phone which was probably playing a youtube video on martial arts. Mori always thought he could learn more about his practice.

Your shoulders dropped as you huffed, but in your heart you knew he was right, lest you wanted to litter your floor with anything and everything you and the twins found to throw at each other. This time, you shuffled through the case trying to find a new highlighter, or anything to underline what you needed to in your book.

You came up empty, the bag only consisting of lead containers, cool erasers, and a few expo markers. And who would ever use dry-erase markers on paper?

Next to Mori, Honey kneeled on the floor as he watched you rummage through your bag that leaned on your bed frame, once, twice, and then a third time as your luck didn’t improve. Curiously, he looked down at his coloring book, the rolling meadows already colored in a deep green with a bright yellow sun in the corner. The boy-lolita’s plump cheeks rose as he thought of an idea, grabbing the green and yellow colored pencil before pressing the tops of his feet down on the soft carpet.

Standing up, he toddled over to your side of the bed, passed the bedroom couch that Tamaki slept on, and laid the two colors out in front of you.

Seeing that his height only allowed him to barely see over your mattress, when you saw the things he offered you, you had to shift to the edge of your bed to hug him tightly, cooing a gentle thank you in his ear before letting go.

His light brown eyes were bright as he just nodded, Honey’s blonde hair bobbing with the movement as he started to walk away, but you caught his shoulder.

Beckoning him back to you, you leaned down and whispered in his ear, your stomach almost hanging off your sheets.

“Could you also grab a red pen from my desk drawer?”

Always willing to help, Honey eagerly nods, padding across the carpet to the far side of your bedroom. As he gets closer, he realizes that he has no idea where you keep your pens, or really anything about how your desk is organized. How was he to find it without messing everything up?

Once his small figure makes it to your desk, he figures to ask the host sitting in your comfortable desk chair, a pair of glasses reflecting the light of a screen.

A space on your forever cluttered desk was cleared for Kyoya’s computer. Blue and white light shines on the megane’s face as he types, switching between windows to reference his resources for a large research paper he is working on.

When he feels a tug on his sleeve, the Ootori son utilizes his skill to be able to type without looking as he slips his gaze onto the martial arts master. Kyoya only pauses his menstruations when Honey looks pointedly behind him, and he turns his lean frame to see you watching the pair of hosts expectantly, spinning the remaining blue highlighter between your forefinger and your thumb.

Rolling his eyes, he opens the drawer to his left, plucking a red ballpoint pen out from the stash you kept for moments like these and handed to his senpai before the clacking of his keyboard fills the air once more.

And when Honey hands you your pen, a small smile is penciled on your face as you casually glance around your room.

Your friends enhanced every corner in your bedroom, their presence secure and safe. Spreading your smile even wider, you go back to scanning the pages of your textbook, a contentedness warming your chest. Your definition of silence had changed into something that didn’t need to be hidden, but something that wanted to be shared.

And you were willing to soak in that feeling forever, but you had no such luck.

Sharp heels clicked against the polished tile of your home, but before you had time to think about the fact that someone had broken in, your mother’s voice managed to carry through the mansion with ease.

“(Y/n)! We’re home!” (N/l) reached the entrance to your bedroom.

Neck straining with the movement, you quickly broke your attention from your book and swung your legs over the side of your mattress.

Passing the awakening Tamaki, your bare feet padded to the door of your bedroom and you peaked around the corner.

Household maids, butlers, and anyone else employed by your family rushed past the mouth at the end of the hallway, finding the foyer that was right outside the opening. You follow their blurred movements as white uniforms come back the way they came, luggage piled in their arms and around their shoulders.

You sweat dropped, your heart picking up speed as you turn to the host club behind you.

Next to you, you saw a paused menu from the twin’s switches as they stretched their necks around you, trying to see who was calling for you. Tamaki was rubbing his vibrant purple eyes as he leaned on the back of the couch at the end of the bed, looking to a curious Haruhi to ask her what was going on?

Honey watched you from his coloring book as he chewed on the end of a pencil before turning to Mori, who was still engrossed in his video, minding his own business.

Kyoya still typed, and he too was ignoring the arrival of your parents, although you caught a not-so-subtle side eye behind the frame of his glasses.

Uncertainty waved through your vocal chords as you held up your pointer finger to the group. “Uh, give me one second.” You stepped out before swinging half of your body back into your room, sending a pointed look at the twins. “Stay here.”

And then you were gone.

Your feet touched cool tiles as you made your way to the main entrance of your home, that chandelier still sparkling, even if no sunlight was pouring in. You hadn’t even realized how long you had been studying, considering the club had arrived early this afternoon.

“Mom?” Your native language was confused on your tongue. At your call, she came around the corner that led to the kitchen, strikingly well put together considering having just come home from a two-week business trip in Belgium. Or what was supposed to be two weeks.

“Darling!” Your mother’s mouth twisted into a closed, but genuine, smile as she opened her arms out, hugging you deeply before parting from your touch. Your hold on her was loving, but still weary as you remembered what – or who was in your bedroom.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, because I am, but what are you doing back so early?” You put on a small smile as you watched her fly between one maid to another, directing them on where to put her bags.

“The meetings ran long, but that meant that we got to finish up a couple days earlier than we planned. Marney helped keep our schedule tight so that I could surprise you!”

A hesitant chuckle seeped out of you as you walked behind your mother, even if your heart skipped at the thought that she had wanted to come home early for you.

“Well, you got me! I’m surprised!” Your tone felt too bright in your throat, but you released a breath as your mom walked straight past the hallway leading to your bedroom. “Where’s Dad?”

“Still in the car,” she replied, releasing her (h/c) hair from her ponytail as she made her way to the master suite, shaking the tension out of her roots. “You know how he gets about bringing germs from our travels into the house.”

You hummed as you nodded. When you were born, your father had been so worried for his first and only child’s health that he had adopted the habits of a germaphobe. And being the incredibly consistent man he was, he never broke out of it.

“But how was your day, dear?”

Your teeth scraped against the inside of your cheek before forming a reply. “It was good, just studied with some friends.” Not a total lie.

“That’s it?”

A small sigh left you. “Yeah, mom, that’s it.”

She hummed thoughtfully, but changed the subject, and you felt the silent judgment drip down your back, wetting your spine with its sludge.

“You’ll never guess who I saw at the Belgium Conference.” You stopped in the door of her room as she pranced around her bed, lugging one of the suitcases into her arms and onto the expensive sheets in front of her.

“Who?”

The bedroom light glowed a warm yellow against the darkness of the windows as she popped open the case by its latches. “Tomoya Arai.”

Your eyebrows raise. A sense of awareness washed over you, but you couldn’t quite place it. “Why does that same sound familiar?”

“You went to middle school with his son for a year or two before their family moved. Turns out they moved back to Japan a few years before we did!”

“Arai…Arai…” Your finger came up to scratch the wrinkle that had folded between your eyebrows. It felt salty on your tongue, the syllables releasing something recognizable, but the image was still a blur. You just shrugged. “I don’t really remember him.”

“That’s not surprising,” The woman ticked her tongue against her teeth. “His son was pretty quiet.” Rummaging through her luggage, her hands pulled out something wrapped in a thin, brown paper, too large to be another novelty pin.

The package crimped from her featherlight grasp as your mother shifted it into one hand before walking away from her bed towards you. Behind the parchment, you could see a sparkly fabric, and surprise etched onto your features as she took the steps to place the gift in your palms.

“Here, baby.” Her voice, one that would be yours in a few years, smoothed over your shock as you felt the weight of the clothing in your hands. You met her eyes again, still processing what she had given you.

“This…this isn’t a pin.”

“Or a postcard.” She said with a knowing smile as you stared down at the tiny diamonds dotting the dark fabric, still hidden behind the transparent paper.

Having contained her excitement for the entire trip back from Belgium, your mother clapped her hands in front of her. “Open it!”

It took you a minute to hear what she said, but soon you were gracefully peeling back the tan sheets, gasping as a deep, royal blue was presented from behind its curtain.

“Mom…” Once freed, the floor length dress billowed down to your feet as you unfolded it, the soft velvet fabric tracing against your arms and then your legs. You held it up as it winked back at you, the small, twinkling stars catching the light against the dark night of the gown.

“Isn’t it gorgeous?” The thin straps of the dress were transferred from your fingers to your mothers as she turned it around to place it against your front, finding that it was the perfect length for your height. “Oh my god, I just knew it would look amazing on you.”

You tilted your head down as you watched the navy dress being held against your body. It was expensive and extremely formal. The straight neckline was held up by delicate straps, while the length of the gown was an uninterrupted starry night, save for a slit up your mid-right thigh.

Could you even pull something like this off?

“Really?”

“Really,” Her eyes meet your own. “You’re becoming a woman, (Y/n), and this is the perfect dress to celebrate that.” Draping it over her arm, she handed the dress back to you as she busied herself with the rest of the luggage. You didn’t miss the extra spark in her step.

“I want you to wear that to dinner tonight.” A manicured finger pointed back at you as she started to pull clothes from her suitcase once more. Fancy blouses and modest pencil skirts lined the contents, but their colors blurred together at the mention of dinner.

“What?” Eyeing the lower neckline and the higher slit of the dress, the image of your usual Sunday night dinners came into your mind. Your dad in his t-shirt and expensive sweatpants, your mom with her hair undone and a casual dress swimming over her. And there you sat, glittering like a spotlight, trying to pull the slit of this dress closed before you could take a simple sip of water.

“The dinner. You need to wear that gorgeous thing tonight, baby, to make a good impression.”

“A good impression?” You followed your mom into her bathroom as she rounded the corner, slipping her jewelry off to place them in the dish that had a little symbol of the (L/n) Tech gracing the porcelain. “For who?”

“Arai and his family. They are coming over for dinner tonight.”

Again, the style of the dress came to the forefront of your mind, and you imagined tugging at the neckline uncomfortably in front of people you didn’t even know.

Stuttering, an awkward smile came to your face as you glanced down at the dress before lifting your head up to your mother once more. “Mom, I have plenty of business casual attire to wear for something like that. Why do I need to…to wear this?”

In the mirror, you saw a small pout form on the CEO’s lips. “You don’t like it?”

“No! No, I do!” Like a switch, the people-pleaser in you shined as you gestured to the sparkle of the gown. “It’s beautiful, really. It’s just…it might be a little inappropriate, don’t you think?”

A simper reflected back at you as your mom made a sweet coo before turning around and placing her ringless fingers on your cheeks. “You are a woman, (Y/n). A gorgeous, capable woman. Let the world see that.”

“I don’t see how a dress shows that I’m a capable woman.” Your squished cheeks deadpanned in her hold.

“It doesn’t. It just amplifies it.”

Now her hands were on your shoulders, and you’re being pushed out of the room. Her painted nails grab your forearm as she swiftly exits her bedroom and turns back into the entryway, with you in tow.

Worry starts back into your bloodstream as she turns on her heel, intending to take you back into her bedroom. You tried to dig your feet into the expensive tile, but her tug was too strong, and you needed to distract her before she opened the door to find seven random people in your goddamn bedroom.

“Wait, Mom! I, uh-”

“Don’t fight me on this, (Y/n).” The tone of a successful businesswoman laces into her speech, and you knew better than to struggle any further. With her back turned to your room, she flings open the door and grasps your shoulder. “Get changed, and meet us in the foyer in an hour. I’ll handle everything else.”

With that, she shoves you inside, turning towards the entrance of your room. You hold your breath as she meets the curious, and slightly worried stare of each of the hosts, Tamaki and the twin’s eyes wide with uncertainty.

Only a second of surprise wipes across her face before it settles into a confused, but welcoming grin. “Hi, boys.” Glancing at the brunette frozen on your bed, she adds, “And Haruhi.”

Your jaw was so agape, it nearly got caught in the door as your mother effectively shut it behind her.

And suddenly you were frozen in your own bedroom, bare feet frozen to the ground as a dress that cost as much as a small country hung loosely from your forearms.

Your friends stare back at you as an awkward silence fills the room as they try to piece together the events that had taken place outside of your bedroom. Tamaki and Haruhi note the state of your open jaw, while Mori and Kyoya see the confusion in your eyes. Honey-senpai worries over his coloring mostly, but he takes a peak at your stiff, shocked stance.

The golden hued gaze from the children of a fashion designer sweep past that, however, and spot the sparkling magnum opus that was being clutched close to your chest.

Shooting up from their seat, Hikaru and Kaoru crowd around you, pulling the piece of clothing out from your firm grasp.

“(Y/n)...” For once, Hikaru is at a loss for words, his eyelashes sifting through each tiny diamond.”

Kaoru is just as breathless, his already light-voice becoming airy in his astonishment. “What is this?”

Blinking, the twin’s orange hair finally comes into focus as you process your mother’s unpredicted reaction to a group of boys in your room, but you decide to ask her about it later. “Uh…it’s…what did you say?”

Holding it up by its straps, Kaoru raises the dress up to your body, similar to how your mother had presented it, while Hikaru lays out the skirt, the velvet material flowing over your figure.

“That’s beautiful…” You hear Tamaki’s voice in front of you now, and as he swoops into your view, you watch as the idiotic trio basically commit the dress to their memory. Their minds work with a great effort, picturing you in the dress, how the dark blue of the material would compliment the undertone of your skin. How the shape would accent your silhouette.

Tamaki’s mental theater shimmered, pink and gold lights bordering the image of one of his best friends dressed to the nines, looking glorious and worthy of the most valuable jewels.

The twin’s imagination took a different approach, thinking of the dark-haired director that sat just inches away.

But all three came to the same conclusion.

“You need to put this on immediately.” As if the twin’s had temporarily transferred their telepathy to Tamaki, the trio looked you dead in the eye, dramatic determination swirling in yellow and purple irises.

Finally shaking off the fact that your mother had zero reaction to seven random people in your room, you rolled your eyes, taking back the dress with a huff before draping it back over your arm. “I will, but you guys need to go.”

You looked at the rest of the host club, an apologetic tone glazing over your tongue. “My mom invited some old family friends over for dinner tonight. So, in addition to this,” you gestured to the dark blue fabric, “I need to get everything else ready in less than an hour.”

Shrugging, the host club watches as a sheepish posture curls into your spine. “I guess this is the end of our study session.”

Haruhi, Mori and Kyoya give you a gentle nod as they each begin to pack up their things. The more vocal of the three smiles her pretty simper at you from the place on your bed. “Don’t worry about it, (Y/n), there’s always next wee-”

“You have to try on this dress! Right! Now!”

“Tamaki!” You exclaim as your blonde best friend parks himself into your personal space, interrupting Haruhi’s calm response.

“Don’t ‘Tamaki’ me!” The prince suddenly spins you around, toward the doors leading to your en-suite bathroom. “You will march right in there and put that dress on for us so that we can see how beautiful you are!”

“Excuse me?!”

“We’ll help!” Two arms loop through your elbow as the twins support your weight and begin to drag you into the bathroom. You thrash slightly in their hold, digging your bare heels into the ground below you.

“Hey! Wait just a second-!”

“Nope! Just like you said! We only have an hour!” Hikaru says, grunting slightly as he struggles to push you from your resistant position.

“Yeah, we wouldn't want to waste any time!” Kaoru reasons, and with one final push, the twins fall into the bathroom with you. The club watches as the force of your bodies swings the door on its hinges, shutting you and the twins out of their sight.

Tamaki stands outside of the door triumphantly before a deep sigh emits behind him, one that he knows all too well.

“Was that necessary? She just sprained her ankle a few weeks ago.”

The blonde spins to his best friend behind him as Kyoya fidgeted with his glasses. “Anything is necessary to bask in the light of beauty.” Tamaki declares in a lush tone, posing with a princely demeanor. “She is going to thank me when she steps out of there looking like a goddess!”

Kyoya was about to argue, but a noise behind the bathroom doors proved the point he was going to make. The ravenet quirked an eyebrow, his gaze going past his best friend and beyond, settling on the bathroom door as it shook slightly.

Tamaki turned back around as muffled shouting and banging seeped through the cracks, and Haruhi and Honey tried their best to conceal their laughter at what they could make out through the ruckus.

“Hikaru! Stop, I can do this myself!”

“Let us help you!”

“Kaoru if you don’t-, oh my god!”

“You just need to put this on, and then-what the hell?!” A gasp breathed from his lips.

“(Y/n), I swear to God.”

“Put it down-!”

The hosts wince and freeze as a crash rumbles from inside the bathroom wall. There was a baited pause as the club listened for any sound of life from the twins, just in case you killed them.

The silence didn’t last long, to their near relief, before Hikaru’s voice rushed back into the scene. “Did you just throw a hairdryer at me?!”

“Wanna see me do it again?” There’s more rustling, and more shocked breaths.

Suddenly, Kaoru’s voice crept closer to the doorframe. “Shit, why does she have so many heating tools?”

The wood of the door creaked, and then burst open as the twins sprinted out. The host saw a blur of ginger and gold as the brothers ducked one last time, a lone curling flying through the air. It would’ve hit the wall if Mori didn’t catch it with one hand, barely looking up from his phone.

“Get out!” A final warning from you, and the door slammed closed again, locking the twins out of your sight, which was probably the best position for their survival at the moment.

Falling onto their stomachs, cat-like eyes fall onto dress shoes and then trousers as the twins land at Kyoya’s feet.

Sheepish smiles appear on their faces as an annoyed grimace displays on Kyoya’s. They laugh awkwardly before both brothers stand, brushing themselves off and then straightening out each other’s clothes.

An awkward laugh bubbled out of them as they re-tied their ties. “She’ll be out in just a minute.”

“You guys are the worst.” Haruhi mumbles as she hangs her bag from her shoulder, having packed up the last of her studying materials.

Tamaki waved a flippant palm her way, a passive lilt in his voice. “She will be thanking us soon enough, Haruhi. How many opportunities does she have to get dressed up like this?”

“Speaking of…what is she really getting dressed up for anyways?” Kaoru asks, drawing the attention of every host to the twin brothers.

“Yeah, a dress like that isn’t for a casual business meeting, that’s for sure.” Hikaru confirms.

“You think (N/n)-chan has a date?” Honey says, no longer distracted by the coloring book he put away.

“What? A date?!” Tamaki whipped his head to the boy-lolita, his dramatics inflecting his tone. “(Y/n) said nothing about a date!”

“I can assure you…” The hosts’ attention is sharply drawn back to the door of your bathroom as it opens, the clicking of heels echoing behind you as you make your way back into your bedroom. “It is not a date.”

An amazed silence glazes over the room, expressed in wide glances and parted lips as your friends take you in. The last time they saw you dressed up like this was during the Ball of the Cherry Blossoms, or how you so endearingly called it when you thought back to the night everyone at Ouran danced under pink petals. And sure, they’ve seen you in the constant costumes and get-ups that really never seem to fit you just right.

But this dress?

God, this dress was made for you.

As you step into their view, the long, dark blue fabric hugs and caresses your figure with a divine purpose, enhancing every tasteful dip and curve that your body holds. A sharp neckline frames your collarbone with elegance as your hosts notice that you stand a little taller, more proud to look this good than you are letting on. The heels picked the front of your dress a little off the floor, but weren’t so high that the small train in the back was snuffed from its glory. The extra height made your refined hairstyle just that more pristine as you exited, putting it atop a higher mantle. The neutral, deep blue complimented every color of your eyes and skin, as if it’s one job was to enchant the very soul that was dressed within it.

The twins and Haruhi shake the stars from your dress out of their eyes and glance at Kyoya, hoping for any sort of reaction. They could see that the ravenet’s gray eyes had softened, his stoic expression melting into something of…amazement? Surprise? Neither the little devils or the natural really ever got better at reading the club’s director, but they could tell that he was definitely trying to process the art piece in front of him.

But if Kyoya had heard their thoughts, he wouldn’t agree. Not entirely.

You could never merely depict something as material and fragile as an art piece.

He thought you looked beautiful, of course. And the small diamonds that freckled the fabric that wrapped you so graciously clearly resembled something that should be placed into a museum.

But to him, you were not only the person his heart had begun to yearn for just months ago, but his best friend. The person he put his trust in and someone he knew would be at his side for better or for worse if he allowed. His best friend, who was anxious and ambitious, creative and kind, had just stepped into a light that was nearly otherworldly.

You were elevated, and his heart grew for the person he saw in front of him.

“Wow (Y/n),” The twins gasped slightly as their hands reached up to their chests., “Be still our heart.”

You rolled your eyes as you fidgeted slightly, waving your hands at your friends who were staring at you. “Shut up.”

“Wow, (N/n)-chan! You look so nice!” Honey bounds up to you gleefully, rainbow-tipped fingers from his creative escapades reaching out to grab the skirt of your dress. Gasps from the twins and Haruhi blow past him as he rushes up towards your form with a gleeful smile on his face.

Suddenly, a hand shoots out, gently yanking him back by the collar of his shirt. Mori keeps a firm grasp on him as his cousin runs in mid-air for a minute before setting him down. The boy lolita’s blonde hair bounces as he glances up towards the older host.

“It’s like a sculpture in a museum, Mitsukuni.” Mori’s deep voice carries over your bedroom. “Look, but don’t touch.”

But, as Honey sulks slightly in Mori’s grasp, the stoic can’t stop a second unbeatable force.

You feel weightless as you are lifted off the ground – long, delicate arms encasing your whole body in a firm embrace. Tamaki spins you around as he cheers and coos, his eyes almost morphing into a heart shape as he fangirls over you.

“Mon ami! You look so cute! Why don’t you ever dress up for us like this?” His usual buttery voice becomes strained with excitement as he twirls you around. He drones on and continues to spin to the point where you think you might throw up all over your new dress if he doesn’t stop.

“Tamaki.” Your muffled voice vibrates against the cotton of his shirt.

“...you need to wear this 24/7, every day of every week of every year!”

Vocal chords are constricted, and his name barely squeaks out of your throat. “Tamaki-”

“...and then, we can match! I know this color would bring out my eyes, oh we would be so cute (Y/n)!”

“Tamaki! Put me down!” Your sudden volume startles him for a moment, allowing you to twist out of his grasp. Your room spins a little, the floor becoming uneven as you are sat back down, the thin, strappy heels on your feet not helping the situation.

Tamaki’s hands shoot out to your shoulders, helping you find your balance. “Sorry, amour. I just get excited when my best friend is so beautiful!”

Your smile still finds its way to your lips as those violet eyes stare down at you with a bright adoration.

A small laugh bubbles past your lungs. “You’re good, Tamaki. Thank you.” Looking towards the rest of the club, you give them a nod. “Thank you guys, too. It means a lot.”

You had to admit, the dress did feel nice. The fabric was expensive, but stretchy, as it wrapped comfortably around your figure. It lifted and tucked nicely, while accentuating those parts you loved. Your mom really had you in mind when picking this out.

“Alright,” You clapped your hands a little and gestured toward the door. “I think I have to kick you guys out now.”

“Awe, what?” Honey whined as Mori stood off of the bean bag chair, lugging the lolita’s bag onto his shoulder along with his own.

“I’m sorry,” You say, clearly not wanting them to go. “You heard what my mom said, we have company coming over.”

“What kind of company?” A deep voice resonates.

You look over to Kyoya as he lightly places his laptop into his messenger bag, his trusty dry erase board following suit.

“My mom has a new aspiring business partner that she wants my dad and I to meet. I’m not really sure what they do, but apparently they are important.” You say as you pick up Tamaki’s bag, handing it to the blonde before folding up the blanket he was using to nap with.

“Wow, a new business venture…” Hikaru says, already halfway out the door.

“Hopefully your mom isn’t spreading herself too thin!” Kaoru finishes, following his brother out as they both slip past you as they exit your bedroom.

“Of course not! (Y/n)’s mother is a wonderful business woman. Don’t underestimate her greatness.” Tamaki exclaims as he and Haruhi walk into the hallway as well.

Soon, your bedroom is devoid of the liveliness of your host club as everyone leaves. All except one.

You wait by the doorway, fidgeting with the ankle strap of your heel as it twisted unnaturally while Kyoya packed up the last of his things.

“A new business partner. Interesting.” He says, slowly buckling his bag closed.

Your eyes squint at his slow movements. “Yeah, I’m not sure what’s really going to happen with this family, but I guess it couldn’t hurt to reach out a bit more.”

“And I assume that this won’t affect the relationship your mother has with the Ootori family?”

A (h/c) eyebrow picks up while your shoulder hits the door frame as you lean against it. “Of course not. I wouldn’t let that happen.”

A final click is heard as the megane closes his bag and wraps it over his shoulder. “I would hope not. It would be a significant loss for either of us.”

Humming, you nod as his dark shoes clack against your floor, the director making his way towards you. “Significant indeed.”

Kyoya stops in front of you, a gentle smirk on his face as his gaze peers at you from behind his frames.

“You look stunning, in case you haven’t heard.”

You laugh, the sound billowing out of your throat. “I think I’ve heard it too much.”

Your eyes divert from his own, and you catch your reflection in a mirror propped against your wall. Scanning yourself, it’s too easy to point out the flaws, to pick out the things that you’ve had to grow up with. The things you’ve forced yourself to accept, but you knew that if a genie magically appeared in your grasp, your first wish would be to wish them away.

Seeing a darker spiral in the distance of your train of thought, the path is interrupted by a softer, colder touch. Kyoya’s finger directs your stare from the reflection back to him as he puts a slight pressure under your chin.

There is a more sincere visage on his sharp features as he draws a little closer. “This dress fits you well. Insecurity, however, does not.”

Lips parting slightly, you swallow. The weight of his assurance for your potential is a shocking one, and through all the time that you’ve known him, you didn’t think that you could ever get over his constant belief in you.

“Thank you, Kyo.”

Another tap from his finger before his touch is gone. “Of course.”

You smile up at him, appreciating the softness of the moment, before a familiar call bonus through the outside hallway.

“(Y/n), dear! Your friends need to leave! Our guests will be here any minute!” Your mother’s voice rattles in (n/l), breaking you from the bubble you and Kyoya had created.

You let go of Kyoya’s fingers just as he lets go of yours, and you peek your head out of the door. “Coming!” You reply back in (n/l) before switching over to Japanese. “You ready?”

He nods, and the two of you begin to slip out into the hallway before you wince slightly.

“Shit.” You curse, gasping as a shot of dull pain pitches up your ankle.

Cotton blurs into your line of sight as Kyoya appears in front of you, his hand coming to rest on your elbow in support. “Is your ankle still bothering you?”

“A little, yeah.”

Air rushes over your arm as his touch leaves you, but he offers you his arm instead. “I can be of assistance.”

Gratefully, you sew your arm through his, pressing a little more of your weight into his side as you both begin down the hallway of your home.

“Do you know the name of the family you're meeting with tonight?” Kyoya asks as you begin to walk to the foyer.

“Arai. Apparently I knew his son back in elementary school. Him and his parents are coming over for some kind of special dinner.” You look towards Kyoya as you both keep a calm pace with one another. “Do you know them?”

A contemplative hand adjusts his glasses as Kyoya thinks. “Hm, not personally, but I have heard of them. Arai Produce is one of the main sellers for most of the products Japan’s supermarkets hold. They focus on selling very natural and holistic goods.”

“Oh, so not really down your alley then.”

The ravenet shrugs slightly as the main foyer comes into view. “As the saying goes, to each their own. I can understand the desire to use more natural products in our day to day life, as the earth could benefit more towards it.”

A small sigh blows over his lips. “But when it comes to the field of medicine, holistic followers tend to want to erase chemical medication completely. The research I’ve done shows that it should really become more of a balance rather than a battle to erase one or the other.”

“And the Arai's work to replace medications?”

“Not mainly, but they have advertised that most any common ailment can be cured with elderberry syrup and rest.”

You cringed a little. “Oh.”

“It’s not favorable, especially since they are such a large company with powerful influence.” Kyoya says, but when he sees the slight worry on your face he begins to look on a brighter side.

“They are reasonable people, I’m sure. They would have to be in order to receive the professional following that they hold.”

You hum thoughtfully, “Good to know.”

He nods as you guys join the rest of the club waiting at the front door.

“What took you guys so long?” Hikaru asks, arms folded while golden eyes catch where yours and Kyoya’s bodies meet.

“Too busy making out?” Kaoru teases, an evil smirk coming onto his face to match his brothers.

A cough blocks Kyoya’s air pipe as your jaw drops and a deep blush forms onto your face. You wack both of them on the shoulder with a decent amount of force, playful betrayal coming out of each slap. “If you two don’t shut up, I’m going to go grab more of my heat tools.”

The boys laugh and the wince as the memory of flying hair dryers and curling irons flips back into their memory. “Okay! Okay! We get it, stop!”

“(Y/n).” The laughing stops, and the host club watches as you immediately straighten at your mother’s voice. Her heels click sharply as her face gives a warm, professional smile. “Stop messing around and say goodbye.”

“Of course, Mom.” You turn back to your friends. “Thanks for coming, you guys, I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

Mori nods at you as Honey gives you a big hug. The twins push your shoulders gently as they look from you to your mom. “Thanks for having us, (L/n)-senpai.”

“Nice to see you too, boys.”

The gingers wave back to you as they walk out the door.

“Thanks, (L/n)-senpai, your home is lovely.” Haruhi says brightly, bowing to your mother before giving you a hug goodbye.

“Always lovely to see you, Miss (L/n).” Tamaki says, bowing deeply as he takes your mother’s hand, kissing the back of it.

“Alright, Tamaki, out we go.” You say, pulling your blonde boy away from your mother before she melted completely, the sweet blush coming to her face already starting to deepen.

“And Ootori, you know you're always welcome here.”

You turn over your shoulder as you push Tamaki out the door to see Kyoya match your mother’s professionalism. If you squinted, you would see the stretch to their smile, and the stiffness of their stance, but the whining of the prince in front of you distracted you until you got him through the door.

“Thank you, (L/n)-senpai, for having us. I hope to see you at the next Ootori company meeting.” The ravenet bows with his hand over his heart, a perfect practiced position.

“As do I.” Your mother replies and watches Kyoya walk out through her front door, towards her daughter.

Her teeth clench.

Outside, the setting sun displays blends of purples and oranges descending into a dusk blue. Stairs descend into a large front yard, a home for rose bushes and lovely flowers your father picked out to keep the bugs away.

Each host has a limo parked out front, shining and crisp against the evening night. Tamaki insisted that he could take Haruhi home, but you asked one of your drivers to take her instead, knowing she would like the alone time after being around all of you for most of the day.

“Bye, you guys, see you later.” You say while watching your friends pile into their respective vehicles and begin to leave. You all wave as they vanish into the streetlamps on your avenue.

Picking up the skirt of your dress, you begin to turn towards your home before a quiet rumble interrupts your movements.

Just as elegant as those of the Ootori’s or the Suoh’s, the stretched automobile was pristine and well-established as it slowed to a stop at your doorstep. A man with salt and pepper tossed on his scalp stepped out of the driver’s seat. Suited with a dark jacket sporting an embroidered Arai on the vest pocket, he gives a respectful nod towards you as his fingers wrap around the car door handle. He pulls, and polished, dark brown shoes gracefully step onto the pavement.

Another man emerges, taller than his driver. Wearing a suit to match his shoes, who you can only assume to be Tomoya Arai rises out of his limo, pulling a finely dressed woman by the hand as he helps her out as well.

His gaze is full of melted chocolate as it meets yours, and his lips quirk up with an immediate smile.

“Miss (L/n).” The older Arai’s voice is warm and even if he is speaking at a normal volume, it’s deep note booms in the open space around you. Something familiar itches in the back of your mind, as if you’ve heard it before. “My, how you’ve grown!”

Coming out of a slight shock to his family arriving so soon, you fix a welcoming, practiced smile onto your face. “Arai-senpai. Wonderful to meet you again.” Your arm delicately stretches in his direction, and he takes it, his smile growing.

“Ah, well, it’s always wonderful to meet a young woman with a strong handshake. Please, just call me Tomoya.”

Nodding, you bow slightly. “Thank you, Tomoya-san.”

His smile grows a little wider. “It might be better than my own son’s.”

“I’m not sure if I should take offense or not.”

Turning your head to the sudden voice, that sudden familiar itch grows. Brown hair, brownish-grayish eyes come into your vision as a lithe boy rounds the back corner of the limousine.

Suddenly, you’re back in middle school. Plenty of tables are lined up in your favorite classroom, but each one is taken as you’re running late. When you reach the doorway, you scan the room, hoping for an open spot. Your eyes pass a girl who you noticed had forgotten her lunch the other day, or you pass the boy who was the star of your school’s baseball team over the weekend. Both ignore you, as they are too busy talking with the people they’ve bonded with, the people in their own inner circle.

Since this was the intermediate school that everyone in your area was assigned to go to, you had known these kids all your life, but had never really made any real, lasting connections, save for a few.

But, through the blur of your growing social anxiety, a hand shoots up.

One, pale, lithe hand waves in the back of the classroom, gently and hesitantly as if whoever owns it is already regretting their decision of putting it up in the first place.

Your eyebrows go up in surprise, but then you smile lightly when you see a boy with a tussle of brown hair and big eyes looking at you with a sweet reluctance. And when you start walking over to him, you see that reluctance change into surprise, then fear, then slowly emerge into a hint of excitement as this mystery boy tries to make his desk as organized as possible.

“Hi.” His voice was so young, so light.

“Hey. Thanks for letting me sit here.” You say as you promptly put your hand out to offer it to his own. “I’m (L/n). It’s nice to meet you.”

The boy starts at your sudden gesture, but relaxes into an awkward smile as he shakes your hand lightly, putting the other hand behind his neck.

“I’m Arai, and it’s no problem. I know what it’s like to be running a little late at times.”

You click your tongue as you begin to pull out your school stuff, arranging them nicely onto the desk in front of you. “Unfortunately, it can be a little more often than just ‘at times’. I really need to get a new alarm system.”

“I live on a farm,” Arai begins as he taps a pencil onto the wood of his desk, “so my alarm system is just a rooster crowing a million times.”

Your smile morphs into a little laugh, and you shake your head. “Okay, not that kind of alarm.”

He laughs too. “It’s an acquired taste.”

Then, the bell rings, and you're forced to turn your attention away from a potential new friend.

That all seemed so long ago now as you clasped hands with that same boy, the same awkward smile playing behind his lips, but with some additional confidence.

“Arai, it’s good to see you again.”

The man before you brightens. “You remember me?”

“A little.” Breaking the handshake, you cross one arm over your chest and grab your elbow, a sweet expression on your features. “To be honest, it took a minute. Since you moved away after we first met, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”

“That’s okay, it makes sense.”

“But it’s still nice to see you!” You say, hoping to put yourself into a better light. “There’s probably a lot that we need to catch up on.”

“Oh, there sure is! My boy here has grown in many ways, we are proud.” Arai’s dad slaps him on the shoulder, and the two of you are brought back into reality. As the setting sun comes back into focus, you realize that you have just been casually chatting with your mother’s esteemed guests on the sidewalk outside of your house for more than 15 minutes.

Shit.

“Oh my, where are my manners?” A manicured hand flies up to your glossed lips as you angle your body to point towards the large double doors of your parents mansion. “Would you please come inside? My mother has prepared quite the night for us, I’m sure.”

Arai’s dad just laughs it off while his mother gives you a reassuring nod. Arai is pulled along by his father as they pass you and soon they are climbing the large stairs up to the main entrance. As you fall behind them, your professional facade drops slightly, and you pick up your skirt to take each step at a time.

Watching Arai’s back, more memories begin to seep into your mind. Arai encouraged you on a test that you were scared for, both of you hunched over your notes to make sure that everything was in order. Or when he asked you if you wanted to see pictures of his new dog his uncle had bought him, and how you cooed over it for hours on end.

He was a sweet guy. Quiet, like your mom said, but also kind and supportive. You remember getting a little closer as time moved on, but he moved away pretty quickly after you two met.

A sense of peace settles over you. After your mom sprang this dress and this meeting on you, you had been a little anxious about the whole thing. But re-meeting Arai and his family puts you a little more at ease, especially with how gracious they’ve been.

This night might go better than you had pictured.

“And thank god we left, because I’m not sure how I would have gotten out of that.”

The entire dinner table erupts into a fit of refined chuckles and polite laughter as Arai finishes his story. Your napkin is pressed to your lips as you look to your side where he sits, and when your eyes meet, it causes even more laughter to bubble out of your throat at his complete shame of what he had done to prank one of his teachers in middle school.

“Oh, god, Arai, what a tale, truly.” Your father says, his cufflinks glinting in the light of the chandelier. “Who knew you were so rebellious?”

“You know what they say. Boys will be boys.” Arai’s mother, Yuko, replies, as she has opened up more throughout the dinner that you were close to finishing. The two parents have another additional giggle at that comment before the table settles down into a more mellow energy.

Your plates have nearly been cleared, the dinner that the chefs made too well-prepared to be left on the white porcelain. Conversation flowed easily when talking about business arrangements, but it took a little more encouragement for anecdotes of personal lives to be shared.

A few wine glasses for the adults fixed that, however, and your father even let you have a sip or two when your mother wasn’t looking. By now, at the end of the night, most of the awkwardness had faded, and it had become an easy night with old friends.

Your mother’s gold ring tapped against her crystal glass as she drank the last of her wine, her eyes meeting yours over the rim.

“Now that we got all of the details out of the way, and had some time to relax.” Your mother drawls. “What do you think of this partnership, (Y/n)?” She asks, folding her hands below her chin.

Straightening your spine, the attention of the table turns towards you as you answer. “I think it’s a wonderful investment. If Arai Produce is looking to build their own grocery stores, (L/n) Tech is more than capable of developing easy to use technology for their shoppers. I think we could do each other a lot of good.”

The CEO tilts her head to the boy sitting next to you. “And you, Arai? What do you think?”

“It’s smart, Miss.” Arai stumbles, also not expecting the question. “Since I’ve been working as a delivery boy, I haven’t really been involved with a lot of the networking that has led up to this point, but I’m excited to delve more into this partnership.”

Arai gives you a questionable side glance while your mother breaks her eye contact and shrugs, and you nod approvingly, giving him a small thumbs up.

“And what do you think of each other?” Arai’s father asks as he cuts the last piece of meat on his plate and forks it into his mouth. “You two get along okay?”

Lip falling between your teeth, you look to Arai again, some of the awkwardness filing back into your systems.

“Yeah, of course.” You reply, folding the napkin back into your lap before looking up to the head of Arai Produce. “It’s been nice getting to know the man Arai grew into. You raised a good son.”

Pride flourishes within the man’s chest, and he nods while keeping a smile on his mouth. “It’s good to hear you say that. It will be important that you two work well together.”

Smacking her lips as she swallows, your mother nods as well. “Yes, this deal will definitely bring our families closer together.”

“I look forward to it.” Arai says, and you two share another kind smile.

Your mom clasps her hands together and squeals slightly. “You guys are two cute! Dressed up to the nines and looking at each other like that! Arai, did you see (Y/n)’s dress? I picked it out just for her in Belgium.” She asks, using her fork to gesture to the midnight fabric gracing your features.

“I did! I did.” His manner becomes a little sweeter and more reserved as he compliments you. “You look lovely.”

You roll your eyes playfully, a small smile on your face to play off the embarrassment rising through your sternum. “Yes, I know, thank you.” Another round of laughs chime through the dining room.

Arai’s father pats his stomach before stretching, his meal settling comfortingly into his gut. “This was great, (M/n), thank you.” He praises as he pushes out his chair, his napkin falling gently next to his empty plate.

Your father promptly leaves his seat, rushing over to pull out your mother’s before following some of your butlers to the coat rack where the Arai family’s jackets hang in wait. Your mom rises as well, much calmer as the heads of newly partnered companies. You and Arai follow behind as they chatter towards the front door.

Out of the corner of your eye, Arai leans over slightly and speaks quietly next to you, out of earshot of your parents.. “It was good to see you again.”

Genuine smiles came to you more naturally throughout the night, so this one wasn’t difficult as you turned to him. “Yeah, it was nice to catch up a little.”

“Looks like we will be seeing each other more often,” The delivery boy says, his signature awkward smile creasing his cheekbones. “It might be good to get to know each other a little more? I could give you my number and we could talk over a cup of coffee. Or, actually, you might not love coffee, but I’m totally fine with whatever you would want, if you chose the place!”

Puffs of laughter ripple from your lips at his backtracking, and you put your hand on his shoulder to stop his rambling. “Coffee is fine. Even if I didn’t like the drink, I still like the atmosphere. It’s a good place to get to know anybody, even new coworkers.” Light teasing breathes from your words, and you can see Arai visibility relax from your assurance.

And as you arrive at the front doors, Arai sticks his hand out again, and you shake it, good nature winding around the both of you.

“I meant what I said earlier. You look lovely.” His dark eyes turn to crescent moons as he smiles at you.

“Thank you, thank you.” Looking down, your fingers play with the fabric of your dress. “I have a feeling my mother picked it out just to impress you all, so I’m glad it fulfilled its purpose.”

Arai chuckles along with you as he pulls his coat on. “You were very impressive. Very elegant.”

He looks at you then with a sense of admiration that you hadn’t seen before, and the feeling whiffs down your spine. Blush rises to his cheeks accompanied by a glint in his brown eyes, and you inhale a little more sharply before smiling and thanking him. Your family leads his family out to the top of the stairs that lead to the edge of the road.

‘Goodnight’s and ‘safe travels’ are shared as you all say your goodbyes, and you stand with your mom and dad as the industrial farmers begin their drive home, catching Arai’s wave in the tinted windows.

Your mother is still waving to them when she speaks behind you, a professional grin still etched into her features. “Arai is a nice boy. Driven, kind.”

“He’s cool, seems like a good person.” You say back, still waiting for their car to disappear into the night.

The tail lights glow red as the limo breaks before taking a left out of your neighborhood and into the night.

Your mothers breath matches the cool spring breeze that winds into the dress she bought for you. “That’s good to hear. Seems like you two will get along nicely.”

With yours and Kyoya’s big presentation coming up on the horizon, your brain was in full work mode. Dedication shined through you as you briskly walked the halls towards the club room, flashcards grasped tightly in your fingertips as you worked on drafts for your opening statement. Books jostled in your bag with each step, and your mouth moved with the words on the index cards as you mumbled to yourself while gliding past groups of students.

Weaving through students, the skirt of your uniform ruffles as you take the stairs two at a time, eager to meet up with Haruhi for a little study session she proposed. An extra packet of instant coffee, brand new pieces of mechanical pencil lead, and your favorite red and blue pens jumped in the side pocket of your backpack, preparing you for the long night of studying ahead.

Blindly, your shoulder juts into the wood of the door to Music Room 3, pushing it open. The sound of the twin’s voices dull in your ear as your concentration sticks to your cards, and you barely register pieces of their conversation with Haruhi as it flows into one ear and out the other.

“..the beach?”

“Of course!”

“But why?...”

“Don’t you remember what you said?”

“You said you’d like to go to a real beach!”

Still, you let muscle memory take you to your favorite studying table. Across the pink tiles, cut across the-

Boof!

Plush, foam mannequins stand in your path as you run straight into them, knocking your index cards out of your hands. It wobbles on its stand on the impact and you panic, reaching out to steady it before it falls into the two around it.

Why were there three mannequins just sitting in the middle of the club room?

Wait, not three.

“What the…” Looking around you, at least a hundred fashion statues scatter the tiled floor, each wearing a unique swimsuit over its fake form. “Where the hell did these come from?”

“The twins.” A deep voice says next to you, making you jump a little before realizing that Mori had come to help you pick up your presentation cards.

You bend a knee, thanking him before processing the sheer mass of swimsuits in the clubroom. “Why would they bring all these swimsuits all the way over here? Did Kyoya order them for another themed hosting session?”

“No. We are going to the beach.”

“Well, yeah,” You sigh as Mori places half of your precious notecards into your hands, stacked neatly but completely out of order. “Not until the end of the week though. Not like I’m looking forward to it.”

“You’re not?” Mori gives you a raised eyebrow. “Why?”

Before you can answer, you hear questions come from seemingly nowhere as they fall through the maze of mannequins.

“Is that who we think it is?”

“Do we hear (Y/n)?”

Disembodied voices branch out from the sea of mannequins, causing you and Mori to stand completely still.

You clear your throat. “Uh, yes?”

Rustling is heard as some of the fashion forms are disturbed, rattling on their stands form an unseen force.

“We’ve been waiting for you.” This time the voice was synonymous.

“Why are you guys being so creepy?” You scoot a little closer to the martial arts master, but even the stoic couldn’t locate the figures of ginger and gold. Dark eyes scanned the bikinis and one-pieces, but he was looking in the wrong direction.

Somehow, you feel twin tugs on the creases of both your elbows, and you're surprised when two annoyingly familiar voices appear on either side of you.

“(Y/n)!” Hikaru exclaims, and your body whips as they yank you back.

“We have a surprise for you, too!” Kaoru states, and suddenly your being dragged through the array of swimsuits, not having time to admire any of them as your index cards float out of your hands and onto the ground.

“You little-, let go of me!” Wiggling in their hold, you can’t seem to break it as you’re dragged through the music room. Mori tries to chase after you, but your chance at being rescued deflates when he gets distracted by a maroon, seashell themed two piece. Hikaru and Kaoru throw you into a chair on the other side of the music room, ironically right next to the table Haruhi was studying at.

As the twins step back, they pose in front of you, and even if they look smug, your temper simmers when you see genuine excitement in their stance.

Leaning over, you whisper to Haruhi through the corner of your mouth.“How long have you been sitting here listening to their nonsense?”

“Only a few seconds, but it feels like years.”

“Okay!” Kaoru points a finger out, ceasing any side conversations and directing all of your attention to them. “You know how we are going to the beach because Haruhi said she wanted to?”

“Did I really say that?” Haruhi challenges, and the twins deadpan at the natural host.

“Yes, Haruhi. But here’s the fun part!” And suddenly, their aura becomes that of a talk show host, splaying their arms to display the many arrangements of swimsuits that held a myriad of designs and lacings. “We brought some swimsuits for you to choose from!”

“Some?” You say, quirking your eyebrow at, again, at least a hundred swim pieces.

With the boys out of the way, you notice a particular swimsuit had been placed front and center, a baby pink one, with a modest cut set of bottoms and halter top, ruffles cascading down the front.

Hikaru pushes it closer to the two of you, a persuasive smile on his lips. “Pretty cute, don’t you think?”

“Not that one!” A sweet voice sprouts in the crowd, and Honey makes his way to the front, using his supernatural strength to lug a tasteful blue-shaded one piece, a mock collar and a little ruffled skirt adorning the silhouette. “I think that this swimsuit would look much cuter on Haru-Chan!”

Putting a finger to your chin, you nod in agreement. “Yeah, actually, Haru would look nice in that shade of blue-”

“I don’t think you get it, Honey-Senpai.” After clearly being ignored, you reach over and take a sip of Haruhi’s lukewarm coffee.

The boy lolita tilts his head as the twins lug Haruhi out of her chair, her already-exhausted-with-this-conversation state causing all of her deadweight to be putty in their palms.

“Just look.” Hikaru says, gesturing to Haruhi’s chest. “This uniform barely hides the fact that Haruhi is as flat as a cutting board.”

Coffee jumps to the front of your mouth as Hikaru makes his observation, and you have to cup your hand under your chin to catch any of the liquid that dripped over.

Swallowing, you gently set the cup back down. “I’m sorry, what?”

Kaoru raises a hand towards Honey’s suit of choice while the blonde hugs it protectively. “A one piece suit like that would only upset her because it draws attention to her lacking feminine physique.”

Together, the twins shove Haruhi into the direction of the pink bikini, imagining the honor student galavanting on the beaches of Fiji in the cherry blossom fabric. “That’s why we carefully selected this two piece suit, see? The ruffles help hide the fact that she’s so flat chested!”

A vein in your forehead pulses at their proud smiles, their teeth sparkling under the light of the clubroom’s chandelier. Gritting your teeth, you spring out of your chair to grab each brother by the ear, ignoring their whines as you drag them to the floor.

“I don’t know where you get off defining femininity, but before you go around calling people flat chested, how about you take a look in the mirror?” You cross your arms over your chest, nodding your head towards a full length mirror on the wall. “Go to the gym, and then we will see who the flat chested ones are.”

If you could have a large, red arrow point to their lithe, toned frames, you would.

Rubbing their heads, they pick themselves off the tile. “Hey! What the-”

Your smile spreads into something cocky and sinister. “Not so great when someone comments on your body, now is it?”

“We were just stating the obvious.” Whines Kaoru, lending his brother a hand.

Hikaru scoffs at you as he straightens. “Yeah, we can’t apologize for being right.”

“Oh yeah? Alright then, you asked for it.” Cupping a hand around your mouth, you call out into the crowded clubroom. “Tamaki!”

The Hitachiians blanch, and they lunge to cover your mouth, but you’re too fast for them. “Wait, (Y/n), don’t-!”

“The twins are sexualizing Haruhi!”

A rumble is felt from behind the swimsuits before Tamaki leaps out, majestically arching over the mannequins with a battle cry, a bat in his hands as he lands and whacks at the two perverts. “You punks had better quit sexually harassing my little girl! I’ve had enough of you!”

The twins rush behind the table Haruhi was studying at as she sits there, trying to block out the events going on around her.

They pop their heads up onto the dark wood, watching as Tamaki cools down, but shudder at the way both he and you look at them, geared and ready for any other wrongly worded sentences.

“So…” The brothers tread lightly. “We’re not going to the beach then?” Something in you feels a little relieved.

The bat falls onto Tamaki’s shoulder as he adjusts, the other hand coming to sit on his hip. “Who said we’re not going?”

“Really?” You turn to the prince, a hesitant tone in your voice. “These two are just going to goggle over Haruhi all day.”

“Gross.” Haru pipes in.

“Agreed.” You confirm.

Tamaki boops you on the nose before giving you a wink. “Not to worry, mon ami, I have the perfect solution so these perverts will never get a chance to look at my little girl again.”

“Gross.” The honor student winces again.

“Agreed. And okay Tamaki, if you’re sure.” You draw out your reply, not really believing anything could keep the twins from being their lovable, disgusting selves, but you’re always hopeful for Tamaki.

A tug on your sleeve causes you to look down and see big milk chocolate eyes peering back up at you with a pleading glance. “Can Usa-chan come too?”

“I have no problem with that.” Out of the mannequin woods walks Kyoya, poised and precise as he prims the edges of your index cards that you had forgotten in the midst of this fashion drama.

Long legs stride over to you as Honey celebrates with the twins, all three excited to be going to the beach. “You seemed to have dropped these.”

“Oh yeah, thank you.” Taking them from his grasp, you look them over, noting how they seem to have at least a sense of order compared to when Mori was putting them together. “Did you read them?”

Pale fingers reach up to adjust expensive frames as he nods. “I assessed them. There are plenty of introductions in that deck that would fit perfectly into our presentation.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I trust that you will be able to pick the right one.”

Shrugging, you move to shove them back into your backpack as you shine from the validation. “I’ll think about that later. It, uh, it seems the beach is coming up faster than I thought.”

“Huh?” That catches Honey’s attention as he breaks away from the happy gingers. “We’re really gonna go?”

“Why not?” Tamaki sighs, a content simper resting on his handsome face. “Let’s go to the beach.”

“So, why’d we come to Okinawa?” Slight distaste forms the twins' words as your group of hosts walk down the sandy beaches of Okinawa Island. The sunlight beams down onto you in glimmers, casting over your skin as the sand sinks in between your toes with each step.

It’s a calming feeling, with Mori to your right and Kyoya to your left, the less talkative of the group keeping a serene atmosphere as the other four partake in light conversation ahead of you. Now and then, while soaking in each beam of sunshine and gust of wind, you’ll make eye contact with the club’s director.

Sweet smiles were exchanged, but the silence wasn’t broken until you decided to reply, the comforting stillness making it easier to enjoy the scenery around you.

“Because Kyoya’s family has a private beach here.” You explain, your voice carrying with the sea breeze.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Honey asks, and it's hard not to agree as you spot some large cliffs bending over the shoreline, and you can’t help but imagine the view from that high up, the things you might be able to see.

And then your stomach forms little knots at what might be at the bottom of that view, making you focus on something else almost immediately.

Mori nods next to you, the sun reflecting admiration in his eyes for his cousin. “Yeah.”

Hikaru's shoulders slump. “But why couldn’t we have gone…”

“...to the Caribbean?” Kaoru suggests.

“Or even Fiji?” Hikarue finishes, and you scoff quietly, shaking your head at their ignorance to the beauty in front of them. The people you grew up with always wanted more, never being satisfied with what they had.

But with fresh air whipping through your eyelashes and the black hair of a certain man beside you, it seemed like you had all you needed.

“Do you think a commoner like Haruhi has a passport?” Kyoya barely finishes his sentence before an elbow jabs him in the side, and stumbles a little before catching your disapproving glare.

Haruhi gives him a side glance, her deadpan expression clear in the sunrise. “You do realize I can hear you, right?” She tries to hide it in the pocket of her cargo shorts, but you can clearly see her attempt to flip Kyoya off.

You can’t help but laugh a little, and your heart grows warm with the people around you. It’s nice to have your family here.

As your group rounds a corner of a large cliff, the peace is broken by what sounds like whimsical sighs and high pitched laughs breaking up the rush of the ocean. Looking to Mori with a furrowed brow, you pick your speed up, catching up to the twins before passing them completely, leaning around the edge to catch a peek of the other side.

Your visage turns from confused to jaded as you see crowds of girls from your school, grouped up in cliques adorned with expensive swimsuits and cover-ups. They talk and smile, hands going up to cover faces as they talk about the latest gossip, hair-dos too intricate to be beach appropriate swaying too and fro with their laughter.

Sighing, your head hits the rocks as you lean into them, connecting the dots in your head as the rest of the club meets you.

“What the-” Hikaru cuts off his speech as he takes in the scene before him, and both he and Kaoru whip their heads around to glare at the person who was most definitely responsible for this.

But all they find is a smirk, as Kyoya pulls his black book out from under his arm, and strides past you all like nothing is wrong.

“What?” Smooth, deep tones fall over the six of you as Kyoya walks towards the mass of women, and men, you notice. “Surely you didn’t expect to have another day off, did you? So soon?”

“Yeah, actually.” Kaoru slouches as your group begins to follow the megane.

“I think we all did, Kyoya.” You say, waving weakly at some of your regulars as you all get closer, trying to hide your displeasure.

“Don’t look so glum.” Pale fingers gesture towards a rock with a blonde form on top of it as Kyoya stops to justify himself. “At least you all got to sleep in. Tamaki has been getting requests for meetings since before the sun rose.”

Sure enough, Tamaki practically glistened in the distance as a long line of guests ended with the prince of the host club perched on a boulder surrounded by shallow water with a dazed girl at his side. The whites of his smile shine in the sunrise, you watch as his finger comes to rest under the girl’s chin, saying something to make a blush crawl up her cheeks.

Kyoya hums in satisfaction, a business owner relishing the success in front of him. Clicking his pen, he hooks it into his shirt pocket before continuing down the beach. “Breaks over. Get to work.”

Mockingly, you salute him before you make your way towards a few guests you recognize, digging up the energy to host and dazzle that you weren’t prepared to utilize.

But two hands shoot out and stop you, boring into the pit of your elbow and pulling you back.

“(Y/n), did you really think you could host in that?” Kaoru’s voice plays in your ear as the twins, once again, drag you to an unknown place.

Getting used to it, you hang limply in their grip. Your eyes travel down your figure at a simple sundress, something comfy and light to where in the heat of the sun. “Yeah? What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s basic. Too simple.” Hikaru states as your heels stop dragging in sand and start bumping over hardwood as you enter a hut of some kind, probably a beach-themed bathroom. “All those girls and boys out there need to be enchanted by you.” A judgemental eye sweeps over your frame before looking ahead again. “They can’t do that when you’re wearing something off the rack.”

An offended gasp flutters over your tongue, and your obedience is erased as you start wiggling in their grasp. “Alright, you know what? You both can let me go and suck my-

“Hello there!”

Interrupting your classy words, the twins open a door that reads Unisex across the front, and two incredibly similar women greet you, a sinister sparkle in their eye.

Stumbling as the twins set you on your feet, your brow twitches in confusion. “What is happening right now?”

“Bye, (Y/n), have fun!” Before you can react, the twins shoot out the door, getting out of range in case you decide to hurt them physically. “Make sure to pick something nice!”

The door slams shut, and you turn back to face the maids.

“Hello, Miss (Y/n).” Says the lady to the right as they both bow, a shadow casting over their faces. “We’ve been instructed to make you over.”

Looking past them, you see rows and rows of bikinis and one-pieces, professionally displayed onto the same mannequins you saw in the club room. In fact, all of these pieces look painstakingly familiar.

You grumble, another sigh pushing past your teeth as you complain under your breath. “Let’s just get this over with.

“It’s so beautiful.” Tamaki watches as his guest’s eyes glaze over, the stretch of the horizon gleaming in her blue eyes. Her eyelids are hooded when she looks back at him again, and she gives him a look he’s seen a million times before. Something foggy and blissful takes over her face as she daringly inches her hand closer to his.

“Tamaki,” her voice is like white chocolate, pouring over him with a sweet delicacy, “being alone here with you, and looking out into the sea, it feels like a dream.”

Tamaki hums, the white chocolate mixing with butter as he reaches to touch her cheek, his fingertips dipping into her hair and she leans into it.

“It’s no dream,” He says, gazing at her with admiration in his eyes, “It��s real. And if I could have it my way, princess, I’d be in your dreams every night.” Gently, he pulls her in, resting his forehead against hers as she absolutely melts.

As planned.

“Oh, Tamaki.” Her voice says it all, and Tamaki’s heart feels a lighter, pride filling into his breath. Another woman was satisfied, feels cared for. A smile is carved into his lips.

The smile falters, however, when scratchy laughter interrupts his moment. Tamaki grimaces as the twins run by, Hikaru and Kaoru performing their brotherly love act as they run after a volleyball, kicking sand up on their heels.

“Hey, wait for me, Kaoru!” One brother calls, a romantic light being shed over the two of them.

“It’s not my fault! The ball is rolling away!” The other sings back, and their laughter pierces the air again, annoyance twitching at Tamaki’s brow.

A tap on his shoulder breaks the prince out of his annoyance, and brings him back into the moment. He turns slightly to see Kyoya holding out his hand to his guest on the rock, who thankfully didn’t notice his loss of focus.

“Her alone time with Tamaki is up.” The Ootori son declares, his voice loud enough for the infinite line of guests to hear as he helps the girl stand in the shallow water. “The next guest may proceed.”

In between the space it took to transfer guests, Tamaki took a moment to survey the beach behind him, watching his friends entertain their guests.

His violet gaze freezes on Haruhi, who is sitting on a picnic blanket under an umbrella, her antisocialism making an appearance as she separates herself from the large groups. A blue t-shirt sits comfortably on her torso, and he swears he watches her sink into it a little more as a breeze rushes by. She runs a finger through the sand, her knees tucked into her chest as she mindlessly draws before a hermit crab runs by her.

Instead of scrambling away from the thing, Tamaki smiles as she simply curls an eyebrow at the crustacean before going back to doodling, her shoulders relaxing as they exist together.

His heart sighs.

Moving along, Tamaki finds Mori and Honey with their guests, a red bucket in the smaller boys’ hand as he collects seashells and other things while Mori supervises.

The beach stretches as he continues to watch, making it clear that someone was missing.

“Hey, Kyo?”

“Hm?” Kyoya’s focus remains on his checklist before beckoning the next guest over.

“Where’s (Y/n)?”

This draws Kyoya’s attention, a confused manner coming over him as he follows Tamaki’s gaze out onto the busy beach that was missing a certain (h/c) host.

“I’m…not sure, actually.” The club’s director pointedly stares at the group of men and women making small conversation in the shade of one of the umbrellas, clearly waiting for you to show up.

Tamaki watches as his friend's visage changes slightly, watching as Kyoya’s cheek dents. It took a couple of months for the prince to notice the director’s nervous habit, but one night Kyoya had only a few more minutes to turn in a complicated project the teacher had unexpectedly assigned that day, and Tamaki saw Kyoya bite the inside of cheek subtly as the minutes ticked by.

Suoh was sure that while Kyoya was nervous for you, of course, he was always trying to think of what to do with all the guests that were currently not being attended too.

This time though, he didn’t have to chew for long, as the blonde caught a glimpse of (s/c) skin wrapped in (f/c), and he breathed a little sigh of relief as he pointed you out to Kyoya. “There she is!”

Pointed toes glided quickly on the sand as you weaved through guests, dodging and waving to the crowds as you drew closer and closer to your own set of responsibilities. Your sore ankle was clearly not bothering you as you leaped out of the way of a rogue volleyball. You were a recognizable blur as the two men followed you with their eyes, seeing you stop only when you were in front of your guests.

And when you did, both men swallowed.

“Wh-what is she wearing?” Tamaki’s voice wobbled, stunned by your fashion sense for the second time that week.

The (f/c) that tied around your skin was in the shape of a swimsuit, one that differed from the bikini you wore to the waterpark. It was clearly new, being absent of any wrinkles or tarnishes as it bent with your frame, and neither Tamaki or Kyoya had seen it before now.

It also showed a lot more skin.

It was to a level with which you were comfortable, but this piece was clearly meant to impress. Ties knotted at the back of the neck and at your hips, giving an illusion that the fabric might just fall off if you give it a good tug. The adjustability also made it easier for you to accentuate some areas, making it tighter and looser in the places you chose.

Enticing energy channeled into the suit, and it was clear your guests thought the same.

Tamaki began to panic a little, his overprotective nature kicking into full gear. “Where did she get that from Kyo, huh?” Wildness swirled in his eyes as he saw the men in your group inched a little closer to you. “They shouldn’t be looking at her like that! Why is mon ami dressed like that~?”

His whine hitched as both hosts saw two tussles of ginger run around you, throw you a quick thumbs up, and ditch the scene. And when the boys looked closer, they saw a golden H reflect the hot morning sun against the swimsuit’s fabric.

Kyoya and Tamaki frown. “Goddamn twins.”

But Tamaki continues to come undone. “I don’t care if she’s a host, it’s too much!” He thought you looked beautiful, of course, and although he would never feel that romantic pull when he was around you, he was still a man who appreciated a woman’s figure.

He just would rather not with yours.

But before the blonde could leap off the rock and cover you with a towel, Kyoya broke out of his paused amazement and continued to wave the next guest over, who had frozen awkwardly, not knowing if he should advance or stay put in Tamaki’s outburst.

“(Y/n) is a good host.” The megane’s voice sounded strained, so he cleared his throat to rectify it. “She’ll be fine. Let’s get back to work.”

But the image of you running on the beach, a pretty smile on your face as you welcomed greedy eyes roaming around your figure, never really left his mind. He didn’t take his eyes off of you.

Not that he wanted too.

Around midday, the sun hung brightly in the sky, painting the beach with serotonin and heat as activities exploded into full swing.

Somehow, you and Haruhi had managed to sneak a little ways away from the hosts, finding favor under a pink umbrella, a soft towel creating a barrier between sand and skin. Haruhi respired, still drawing shapes into the dirt.

“This sucks.” Her chin rests on her knees as she talks, causing her head to bob. “I thought going to the beach meant a day off.”

You nod, breaking your attention from Mori and Honey, who were practicing Tai Chi with their guests in the distance. “I think everyone did.”

“I guess it makes sense, though.” She draws a flower in the sand. “It’s a good business venture.”

“Sure it is. At the expense of our ability to have a relaxing time.” You both chuckle as you take a sip of your cold drink, some carbonation fizzling on the side of the cup. “It sucks that you can’t swim though.”

Haruhi just shrugs, her next art piece already in the making. “It’s part of the job, I guess.” She looks at you. “What about you? Are you going to get in anytime soon? You have a cute suit on.”

Another slurping sound comes from your straw as you look out across the endless amount of blue, and the knot re-ties itself in your stomach. “Maybe later.”

Three reflections appear in the glass, and a shadow casts over your figures as some girls appear behind you. Recognizing them as some of Haruhi’s regulars, you wave to them and excuse yourself, their voices fading away as you duck out of the umbrella.

Pulling at the straps of your swimsuit, you try to dull the anxiety sharpening in your stomach. You have no problem showing skin, but the maids had forced you into something a little more adventurous than you were used to. It was the right choice apparently, as Kyoya will be pleased to hear that you nearly doubled your guest list today, but it took you a minute to get used to the seabreeze brushing against your exposed hips.

For some reason, multiple people had taken an interest in pushing you out of your comfort zone this week, from your mother to the stylists. You were excited to change back into something more your style when the day ended.

But you had to admit, every time you came across your reflection in the water, or your image in a phone camera, you couldn’t help but stand a little taller.

This dress fits you well. Insecurity, however, does not.

The same could be said for your swimsuit.

Soft thumps interrupt your thoughts as a volleyball rolls to your feet. Looking around, you see the twins running at you, waving their hands and gesturing for you to pick up the ball. Doing so, you meet them in the middle, handing it back to them as they simper apologetically, Hikaru scratching the back of his neck.

“Hey, (Y/n). You wanna play?”

“We could use a fourth.”

“Who else is playing?”

“Mori said he would try once he was done with his Tai Chi.”

Kaoru shrugged. “He didn’t really say it, he just nodded and told us to hold on a minute.”

Shrugging, you turn back to Haruhi, who was surrounded by three blushing girls as she unknowingly glittered at them like an expensive treasure.

Giggling, you turn back to the brothers. “Sure, Haruhi looks like she’s doing okay anyway.”

As you walk, damp sand tumbles around your toes, dusting the soles of your feet.

“I can’t believe he fooled us.” Hikaru complains, tossing the ball up in the air.

Kaoru catches it before his brother can, twirling it on his finger. “Who’d have thought he’d bring the guests with us?”

“Yeah, well.” You scoff. “We certainly didn’t expect it.”

“You were invited on this all expenses paid trip for a reason.”

In the midst of your conversation, you didn’t notice that the three of you had passed by Kyoya, who was lounging in a beach chair, one of his favorite drinks at his side. “And that reason is to keep our clients entertained.”

“We know,” whines the mischievous twin, his shoulders slouching as his brother mirrors him. “But with the ladies here…”

“...Haruhi can’t change into her swimsuit.”

“That pink thing?” You say, picking up Kyoya’s drink and taking a sip. The megane rolls his eyes. “I’m pretty sure she didn’t want to wear that anyway.”

A satisfied murmur rises to the right, and you see Tamaki also relaxing, palms creating a pillow behind his head. “Don’t worry. I got it all under control.”

You all share a knowing, tired glance as a shimmering varnish washes over Tamaki’s purple eyes, a sure sign that the prince was flying to his own fairytale. “My little angel shouldn’t be prancing around in a swimsuit, at least not in front of two perverts like you.”

You almost gasped, offended, before the twins beside you groaned and rolled their eyes, and you realized your best friend wasn’t talking to you.

In fact, he was talking to anyone at this point, his cheeks becoming redder as he spoke under his breath, his voice wispy and dream-like, fully engulfed in his own world.

Folding your arms, you lean over to Kyoya as you watch a blissful smile spread across the blonde’s face. “Do you think, one day, Tamaki is going to go into his mind-theater and never come out?”

Kyoya was watching as well, his pen spinning in his fingers. “It’s possible. And what a silent, peaceful day that will be.”

But, alas, Tamaki suddenly squeals, curling in on himself as he rocks side to side in the plastic lounge-chair. “It’ll happen just like that! The greatest day of my life, I don’t know if I can handle it!”

“Is he going to have a seizure?” You ask, studying your prince as he squirms.

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Hikaru smirks, his hands coming behind his head.

Kaoru follows his movements. “We don’t wanna jinx it.”

You and your friends wait for Tamaki to come out of his excited state, but when it’s clear that he isn’t any closer to being normal again, you turn back to the Hitachiians.

“So. Volleyball?”

The twins nod their heads, ginger hair bobbing as they continue to give their boss a weary glance. As they walk ahead, you do too, then picture yourself playing volleyball in a suit of flimsy strings, and then pace back a few steps.

“Kyo?” But his attention had been snatched by his book once again.

“Hm?”

“Can I borrow your shirt?”

That gave you his attention as his lashes flicked up at you from behind his book. “Why?”

“I want to play volleyball and not worry about everything falling out.” You vaguely gesture to your figure before putting a teasingly contemplative finger to your chin. “Although, I’m sure the guests would love that.”

Kyoya’s inquisitive look flattened, and he held that deadstare as he shucked off his Hawaiian shirt, perching it off of his finger tip as he lifted it towards you from his beach chair. You fought yourself not to ogle at his toned chest, but your eyes still slipped in a few glances.

As you pulled the short-sleeved cotton fabric around your shoulders, you sighed a little bit as his expensive cologne surrounded you, and you felt a little more protected as you buttoned it up.

“You want to come with us?” You ask, slipping another button through its notch. “You could keep score.”

His gaze hadn’t left you, calmly taking in the image of you in his clothes. “Not really, but thank you.”

“Oh, come on. We both know how much you like numbers.”

A raven eyebrow quirked up, as well as the corner of his mouth. “Are you calling me a nerd?”

You smiled, deceivingly innocent. “Of course. What else would you be?”

“I believe the applicable phrase here is ‘it takes one to know one’.”

“Ah, so you admit it.” Walking around and bending over his shoulder, you look at his budgeting for the next round of inventory shipments. Tracing your finger over the left side, you simply flip the page, receiving a scoff from the director. “See? You love numbers so much, this book is full of them.”

In the close proximity, you could feel the wisp of his half-assed sigh passing through his lips as you kept flipping back pages. “Obviously this book is full of numbers, it’s my budgeting journal. It’s called math, if you need to look it up later.” Light sarcasm, the kind you loved, seeped into his voice.

Laughing, you mock amazement. “Woah, hold on, math? Let me see.” With a quicker pull than he could’ve been ready for, you yank the book out of his lap, running to the front of his chair and hold it upside down, still flipping through it.

“I can’t read this.”

“I don’t think anyone could read it like that.” Kyoya said, a closed lip smile in full light on his pale face. “Now give it back.”

“Oh wow, do these spirals mean something?” You gasp exaggeratingly, pointing to one of the doodles Kyoya made in the margins of the page. “And this smiley face is one of majestic art.” Flipping the journal around, you flashed him the drawing you made the one late night that he still didn’t erase.

“(Y/n).” Was that a chuckle in his tone? It was deep, and slight, but it still rang in your chest. “Give it back.” Upturning his palm, he waited.

But he didn’t get it.

Instead, you quickly wandered off, turning the book upright this time to trace the little circles and connecting doodles in the margins as you followed the twins' footsteps. “Come on! You can use it to keep score.”

Kyoya was frozen for a second, his outstretched hand basking in the sun as he watched you leave, waited for you to turn back, and then accepted that he would have to follow you if he ever wanted his most prized possession back in his grasp.

Sighing, he fixed the glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose as he rose out his seat, his newly bare chest and back feeling the warmth of the sun when he stepped out from under the umbrella.

Slipping a hand into his swim trunk pocket, he followed you in the sand, watching how his shirt rippled in the seabreeze on your body.

His smile cemented onto his face when he decided that he liked it on you.

“Dive, (Y/n)! Dive!”

One of your guests shouted from the borders of the court as a ball volleyed into the air, arcing over the net, and was set to go long and to the side, farther out of reach than either you or your teammate were prepared for.

And while it was nice for the boy to say something, he didn’t need to. You were already in motion.

Sand crushed and whipped under your heels as you propelled yourself forward. Running in sand was hard, and you felt the burn in your quads as you rushed forward, your breath coming to you in quick pants.

Since Mori was tall, you both had agreed that he should be in the front, to block any spikes or short balls that the twins decided to throw your way. That left you in the back, passing over serves or any balls that Hikaru accidentally put too much power into.

Which was most of the time.

This one had gone off the rails. The passes before this had been crooked and unplanned, the two identical boys just working to get it over the net at that point without dropping the ball. So when Hikaru finally hit a good set, Kaoru spiked it, victory shining in his pointy grin before he realized he basically hit it out of bounds.

Which would’ve been fine, if Mori hadn’t tried to hit it back.

You knew your fate was sealed when the stoic type’s fingertips gave the volleyball the barest of touches, sending it askew and off to the edge of the court.

Legs pulsing, knees bending, you leaped off of the uneven beach, fingers weaving together as you clasped your hands too tightly in front of you. Your shoulders whined as your muscles stretched, but you ignored the discomfort. Clenching your teeth, you put your hand under the meteor made of leather and rubber as it’s shadow began to be casted onto the dusty floor below. Arms burning, you made a move, forcefully smacking it back towards the net.

A cheer burst through the crowd as your side banged into the hard ground below. Your breath was squished out of your lungs, but you ignored it. Helplessly flopping onto your back, you turn your head to follow the ball and see the twins scrambling, surprised that you had made it over.

They fumbled again, but this time the ball flopped just out of Karou’s reach, sealing your win.

Exhaustion coursed through you, but you still opted to pump your limp arms in victory, a breathless smile coming to your face as the small audience that gathered shouted their congratulations.

Mori came into your view, his handsome face blocking out the sun.

“You okay?”

You nodded with a smile.

“Do you need help getting up?”

Another nod. And maybe a grunt.

Strong hand against strong hand, Mori pulled you onto your feet. Studying your frame a little and finding no real injuries, he put his long arm around your neck, patting you on the shoulder with a small grin.

“Good game.”

Taking a deep breath in, your oxygen finally came back to you. “Ha…good game.”

Mori smiled at you and shot you a thumbs up, then left to gloat to the twins, who were kicking sand and comforting each other. The Brotherly Love package was in full force, and the twin’s own fans awed and cooed at their performance.

You rolled your eyes as a voice swept over the crowd.

“Match point for Team Stoic and Sweet. And that is game, everyone.”

You turn to see Kyoya smiling kindly at his own admirers that were mixed into the on-lookers as he made his way towards you from his perch as the score keeper. His book was tucked neatly back into his underarm, since he needed it to keep score.

“That was quite a dive.”

“Yeah…” Still trying to catch your breath, you roll your shoulders. “I guess I’m pretty great, aren’t I?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“(Y/n)! That was awesome!” Haruhi came jogging towards you both, carrying a red flag in her hand.

“You were awesome! You did a good job keeping track of what went in and out, Haru. Thanks for doing that.”

She just shrugged, a content look on her face. “It was fun, actually. I never knew volleyball could get that intense. I was pretty into it.”

Mori met you three at the base of the net with a certain golden-eyed duo, tongue in their cheeks.

“Good game, (Y/n).” Kaoru said, his tone showing he meant the opposite.

“Yeah it was, wasn’t it?” You say, putting your hands on your hips through Kyoya’s shirt. “You guys are pretty easy to beat.”

“What did you say?” Hikaru stepped forward, a mischievous grin on his face.

You met his step, your own smile locked in place. “I said it was pretty easy. Looks like you boys need to get in shape.”

“Hm.” Hikaru looked you up and down, nodding. “You seem confident in your athleticism. Doesn’t she seem confident Kaoru?”

A pale arm came to rest on Hikaru’s shoulder, Kaoru wearing a matching grin. “Yeah. Why don’t we put that to the test?”

Your confidence decreasing exponentially at the evil look in their eyes. “Hey, wait a minute.”

“Let’s see how fast you can run.” Kaoru builds your coffin.

“Until we catch you.” Hikaru nails it together.

Putting your hands in front of you, you backup a little. “Come on guys, we can talk this out.”

“Nah. You got a three second head start, (Y/n).”

“Starting….now!”

“So unfair!” You scream, but your voice grows distant as you sprint down the beach, careful to avoid the incoming waves as you laugh the whole way. The twins are giggling too, as they barely count to three before racing to catch you, and the trio of mostly stoics watches as you disappear around an edge of a large rock.

“Was that your shirt, Kyoya-senpai?” Haruhi asks, remembering splotches of damp sand on the Hawaiian pattern.

An exasperated sigh comes from the Ootori son. “Unfortunately.”

“Hey Haru-chan!” The dark-haired hosts follow the high-pitched voice a little to the left of where you and the twins had run off. Honey stood closer to the ocean, waving at Haruhi with a large red bucket in his hands. If Kyoya squinted, he might be able to see a pink bunny printed on the side. “Wanna go hellfish shunting?”

Haruhi and Mori chuckle a bit before the honor student cups her hands over her mouth. “I think you’re trying to say shellfish hunting.”

The trio begins to walk towards the boy-lolita, getting closer to the large rock.

“But this doesn’t seem to be that kind of beach, Honey-senpai,” Haruhi continues, distractedly looking around the sand. “You’re not gonna find any shell…fish?”

Suddenly, Honey steps aside to reveal large piles of all types of shellfish stuffed into pink, bunny-themed beach buckets. Haruhi’s brown eyes go wide with amazement as she whips her head around, only to find that the three of them have stepped into, what Tamaki might call, a crustacean station.

“What the hell? No way!”

“Ow! What the hell?” An exclamation is heard from behind the rock, followed by two more.

“Where the hell did this truck come from?”

“Who are these guys?”

“Hm.” On the other side of the rock, Mori and Kyoya move to investigate the source of the noises.

As they peek around the base of the large obstruction, they see a large 18-wheeler, one that Tamaki’s driver might yell at to drive faster on the highway. Many costumed soldiers stood on each side of the giant, garage-door-like opening at the back of this truck, creating an assembly line for transporting a multitude of shell-fish and other, surely invasive, shelled creatures.

They also saw you and Kaoru gingerly pulling a crab from the end of Hikaru’s finger.

Kyoya made a knowledgeable hum, whipping out his book as he recognized the situation. “Mori-senpai,” He said to his friend, “my family’s private police force has stopped by. They wanted to make it up to Honey-Senpai for attacking him at the water park. So they brought shellfish.”

“Amazing!” Honey cheers again, practically swimming in his treasure. “Look how many we got.”

Kyoya could see that Haruhi was practically drooling when she nodded her head. “We’re gonna have some fancy side dishes tonight.”

“Well, they are certainly enjoying themselves.” You shrug as you and the twins rejoin the group. “And they forgot about the other person they tried to flush down a wave pool, but whatever. I guess all's right with the world.”

“What makes you think we forgot about you?” Kyoya asks, casually recording the attendance of his guards.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. I was just asking a question.”

It took you a moment, but your hands came up to cover your mouth a little as your eyes gleamed. “Oh my god, did you get me something? A present?”

“Yeah, Kyoya-senpai. You get her a gift for all her troubles?” Snickered the twins.

Ignoring the ginger pains in his side, he fixed his glasses. “I can’t confirm or deny anything. I wouldn’t want to ruin any potential surprises.”

“Oh my god, you totally did!”

Rolling his eyes, the megane flipped to a new page, hiding his smirk.

“Hey, Senpai!”

Haruhi’s call brings all of your attention to her, as she perched herself on the side of the rock and started waving. “Dinner is gonna be awesome, it’s a major haul!”

In the distance, many guests look over to see the root of the commotion, but a tuft of blonde rises quickly. Too quickly.

“It’s a major haul!”

Tamaki is halfway across the beach at this point, practically reaching Mach 7 as he bolts down the sand. His legs looked like those cartoon animations, where the character runs so fast, his bottom half is just a blurry wheel.

“It’s a major haul!” Her excitement for dinner punctuates Tamaki’s arrival, as he stops abruptly at her side. She smiles at him, gesturing to the shellfish around her, and he gives her a thumbs up, a puppy-dog look in his eye.

“Dinner’s gonna be awesome! It’s a real treat!” And, even as her best friends, no one can remember when you saw her this excited. It brings a smile to everyone’s faces.

But when the natural-type wanders off with Honey to collect more shellfish, you all watch as Tamaki deflates, catching his breath as he meets your group. Pushing past some girls who had followed the sound of Haruhi’s call, he smiled at the honor student.

“Oh, I’m just so proud. Look at my little girl!” You don’t know if it was the running or if his fountain of emotion was overflowing, but it left him breathless.

“Alright, alright, have some water, Boss.” Kaoru says, handing Tamaki a bottle.

The blonde begins to drink it before a crab catches his violet eye as it struggles to climb a piece of the steep rocky structure.

“Hey, Haruhi, (Y/n)!” Tamaki picks up the crab easily, to Hikaru’s jealousy, and holds it out, putting on a charming face. “Do you think this crab is…crab-tivating?”

You couldn’t help it when a chuckle burst from your lips at your best friend’s joke. Kyoya watched you laugh, and scribbled something in the corner of his page.

Two twins appeared at his side. “You’re writing that down, huh? Who are you trying to impress?”

But he just gave them the cold shoulder, shielding the contents of his book from golden, wandering eyes. “Shut up.”

Even Haruhi giggled, too deep into her good mood to be pulled out by Tamaki’s antics. “Oh yea!”

And Tamaki practically melted before you, taking his time to capture her slight blush and what the sound of her laugh did to his heart. “You’re so cute.”

But the lovey-dovey look was sucked out of his eyes soon after as a long, twirling centipede arose from the crab’s shell. It twisted around the crustacean, and the girls who had gathered around Tamaki jumped back, horror in their features at the bug.

“Cen-!”

“Ti-!”

“Pede-!”

Even the strong prince’s arm trembled as he froze in place, shock and terror shaking through his body.

But Haruhi simply blew a piece of her hair out of her face, walked up to the president of the host club, and plucked the bug off the crab, chucking it behind her.

The bug arched over her shoulder before landing on your face with a gentle smack. You jumped a little in surprise, but your shoulders shook with a giggle as you picked it off your forehead and watched it squirm.

“Aw, cute.” You cooed, then promptly flicked it over the rock, dusting your hands off afterward.

“Oh, shoot. Sorry (Y/n).” Haruhi says as she turns to walk towards you, but she’s laughing with you, the glow on her face still present.

It’s dimmed, however, by a set of twin shadows.

“Hey, Haruhi…” Hikaru says, placing an elbow on her small shoulder.

“(Y/n)...” Kaoru reflects Hikaru’s pose, his sharp joint digging into your collarbone.

“Now, I know most girls aren’t exactly the bug-loving type, and I certainly didn’t think you were, but-”

“-Don’t you think you both could’ve been easier on that little guy?” They whine, and you roll your eyes.

“Please, it’s not dead. It takes more than that to kill a bug.”

Then more shadows join, and the four of you turn to see guests looking at the two of you with hearts in their eyes, pushing the twins off of you and surrounding you in an astonished hue.

“Haruhi is so brave, so manly!”

“(Y/n) barely even flinched. She’s the perfect woman!”

You both thanked them while looking at each other like what is going on?. This left a few very quizzical hosts looking at you through your groupies as if you both had grown another head.

“Well, isn’t that just great.” Hikaru pouts, watching as the guests swarm you.

“Yeah, those two aren’t normal.” Kaoru adds. “I thought girls were supposed to be afraid of bugs.”

Tamaki’s yellow eyebrow twitched, watching as the guests fawned over you both so easily. “I’m sure they’re afraid of something.”

That got the wheels in the twins’ heads turning. As rusty as they were in other areas, these gears were always up for the planning of a good scheme. They turned and turned until the metal scraped together and produced a spark, zipping up their brain stem to power a collective lightbulb.

“Hey Boss, listen up!”

Tamaki barely diverts his attention to the twins, the crab still waiting patiently in his grasp. “Hm?”

“We just thought of a new game to play!” Business men in the making, the twins pose pointedly, driving their offer through with enthusiasm. “It’s called the ‘Who Can Find Out Haruhi’s and (Y/n)’s Weakness Game!’ You think you’re up to it?”

But the flamboyant man blanched, a sweat dropping on his forehead. “But…that game sounds terrible.” Finding out what made both of his girls vulnerable and scared? Or sad, or unbelievably happy, without their knowledge. He couldn’t do that to you.

His purple eyes divert to where Kyoya, Mori, and Honey are walking closer to him, and follows that flash of sun against Kyoya’s rims.

Plus, he thinks, I don’t think we would have to search that far for (Y/n)’s weakness.

The twins just sigh, blowing him off as they slowly begin to walk away. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Besides, they would only really share their weaknesses with someone who they were close too so…”

All of his caution is tossed aside as his immense desire to form a stronger bond with you takes over. “What are the rules?”

Hikaru and Kaoru whip their heads over their shoulders, a dangerous look in their eye. “Now that’s more like it!”

Hikaru pops up first. “The deadline is sunset tomorrow.”

“Whoever finds their weaknesses wins.” Kaoru finishes.

“And it seems I have the perfect prize for the lucky winner.” Kyoya and the others had caught up, and with the sunlight still flashing in his lenses, the ravenet fans out four pictures in his palm.

Two of them depicted Haruhi when she was in middle school, long hair and a female uniform. The other two, unfortunately, were pictures of you.

While Haruhi’s pictures were sweet and flattering, yours were just embarrassing. One showed a time where you thought you were in a safe place to nap, drool coming out of your mouth and seeping into one of the club’s couches. But the other one was much older, where a failed ice-bucket challenge had taken place, and you stood there soaked in your middle school uniform, a brown haired boy trying to cover his laughter in the background.

An intense look formed on the faces of the Idiot Trio, and Tamaki began to reach for them, causing Kyoya to move them around the prince so he couldn’t grab them.

“We wanna play too!” Honey declares, a look that said he was just happy to be included.

“I guess that means we are all competing.” Kyoya states, lifting the pictures to the far right, trying to shake his best friend who was grumbling about where he was able to get those never-before-seen pictures of Haruhi.

“Hey, wait a minute, where did you get those pictures, Kyo-chan?”

“Yeah, where’d you get them, Kyo-chan?”

Along with the excitement for the game, Kyoya had been too immersed in his pride of finding the perfect use for these pictures to notice that you had separated from the crowd. Once again, he wasn’t fast enough as you plucked the photos out of his hand and looked through them, grimacing at the ones that defiled you.

The hosts turn, looking like boys who just got caught with their hands in the cookie jar, as you rifle through all four of them before looking up at them quizzically.

“What’s, uh…what’s goin on here?”

“Nothing!” Tamaki and the twins say immediately, but Honey bounds up to you happily.

“We’re gonna play a game, (N/n)-chan, we’re gonna find out you’re weakness! And Haru-chan’s!”

“Honey-senpai!” The Idiot Trio whines.

You give him a confused look before looking at the rest of your friends. “My weakness? Like, what I’m scared of?” Scoffing, you shake your head. “That’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” Kaoru huffs.

“Yeah, it’s fun.” Hikaru counters.

Shrugging, you pull out the picture of the failed ice-bucket challenge, examining it a little closer. “Not when you already know what I’m scared of.”

There’s a small silence, and you look away from the photo to see them blinking up at you owlishly.

“We do?” Tamaki asks, his head tipping to the side.

But Kyoya flipped through a couple pages in his book and wanted to slap himself in the face. “Oh, that’s right.” A few flashbacks came to the forefront of the hosts' minds.

You and the supernatural didn’t mix very well. You weren’t weak, obviously, and would fight anything head on. But when there was a ghost that you couldn’t punch, that’s where you ran into a problem.

“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.”

A long, drawn out “Oh, yeah” exhales from the hosts as the dots connect, and the twins get a bored look on their face.

Hikaru and Kaoru begin to list them. “Sooo…ghosts?”

You nod. “Scary.”

“And children?”

“Gross.” You say shivering, save for a certain boy who had grown on you.

“Right, right.” Tamaki sighs. ‘Anything else we should know about?”

You shoot an eyebrow up. “You mean you don’t know the other one?”

This gains their attention. Kyoya continues to flip through his book to see if he wrote down anything else, but he comes up empty. “There are more?”

At this, you smile, a small chuckle bubbling over your tongue. “Of course there are more. I’m not made of steel, you know. I’m scared of all kinds of shit.”

“What is it?” Mori says, his arms folded across his chest.

“I don’t know if I want to tell you..” A coy smirk perches onto your features. “I guess I'll get to play after all.”

~ Let the Games Begin!~

A singular voice echoed off dark walls.

“This is the place…it’s the most haunted spot in all of Okinawa. The locals don’t even come out here.”

Taking a stuttering breath, the humid air of a cave rushes through your lungs. You hold it there for a second, scared to make the barest of noises in case it might disturb something. Or someone.

Another voice, similar, bounces off the rocks of the cave as they take you and the crowd they’ve brought further and further into the horror. “They say that the only time you can even find this cave is at low tide. Evidently, many people have died here from drowning, and their souls still linger. Taking revenge on anyone who dares to come inside!”

That causes a sharper stab in your side as you fear peaks. You jump as Kaoru raises his voice in the darkness, and you try to squint, but from the back of the crowd you realize that you can’t see them anymore.

“Alright, I can do this…I can do this.” Your nerves are skedaddling, fluttering in your stomach and sternum as you swallow, wincing when an unexpected drop of moisture plummets from a stalactite and onto your shoulder.

“It’s okay, (Y/n). Look over there.” Haruhi, somehow unfazed next to you, points to where the light from the beach reached the depths of this dark cave, reflecting in the condensation and creating a small little rainbow.

She smiles at you then, and you feel your nerves firm up a bit. “See? How can things be scary when there’s a nice rainbow, right there?”

The pounding from your heartbeat slows a little before Hikaru shouts from the front. “Look! A ghost!”

Whipping your head around, Haruhi becomes exasperated knowing all hope is lost when you feast your eyes on a shadowy figure, moving erratically in the shadows.

“Nope! Fuck, no!” Turning on your heel and driving it into the rocks below you, you are about to sprint to the entrance when a tall, toned torso blocks your path.

“I would watch your language, (Y/n). We are around guests.” Kyoya stands calmly in front of you as he gestures to Hikaru and Kaoru’s guests, an amused smile on his face.

“Kyoya, we have to get out of here. That thing is going to possess us, and then what?!” You whine, a hand crazily motioning to the gloom you had witnessed.

Gray eyes scan behind you, then meet yours, that smile growing. “What ‘thing’?”

Screwing your eyebrows, you turn spin to find the nightmare gone. “Oh shit, where did it go?”

“Language, again.” Kyoya’s tired, but entertained voice comes to rest beside you as he falls into step with you and Haruhi, and you feel a hand on the small of your back. “Come now, (Y/n), surely you can’t be afraid of what isn’t there?”

You scowl at him, rolling your eyes before becoming attentive to the cave around you. “Don’t patronize me. I know what I saw.” But the weight his hand provided was nice, it pulled you back to earth.

But then you jumped out of your bones when literal bones grasped your shoulder, cold and clackity as it touched the fabric of Kyoya’s shirt.

“Ah!” Going into a complete fight or flight mode, your elbow ran back, jamming into whatever had decided to take your soul at that moment in time.

“Oof, ah…” The figure’s wind got knocked out as it bent over, and you reeled to see Hikaru, clutching his stomach and bending over, two fake skeleton hands in his grasp. “I…probably should’ve seen that coming.”

Haruhi stood there, brushing off where Hiakru had placed the hand on her shoulder, and looked confused. “What’s going on? Are you guys trying to freak me out?”

Pushing past his guests, Kaoru emerges with a puppet with the same silhouette as the ghost you had seen in the darkness. An angry tick appeared on your forehead.

“What’s wrong with you?” Kaoru whines. “I thought everyone was afraid of ghosts. (Y/n) definitely is.”

“I swear to god, when I get my hands on you…” You mumble, and try to walk towards the twin before Kyoya holds you back by the collar of his shirt.

“This stuff doesn’t really freak me out.” Haruhi says, wrapping the cloth the puppet-ghost-demon thing was dressed in around her finger. “I’ve never seen a real one, so why would I be scared of it?”

You slouch, dragging your feet as your lead out of the cave. “If only it were that easy.”

~ Paranormal Fear Strategy Failed ~

“Haru-chan! Would you come over here? (Y/n), you too!”

The shirt now unbuttoned, it blew in the breeze of the sea as you and Haruhi got up from your sunbathing to meet Honey-senpai’s request. Walking past the deep, vast water of the ocean next to you lights your nerves again, but you keep a calming distance.

Rounding the corner of the large rock where the boy-lolita had found the shellfish, you see him standing and waving at the base of the large 18-wheeler that had carried the crustaceans.

“What’s up, Honey?” You say, shielding your eyes as the rest of the hosts join you.

Haruhi gasps, not having processed that a giant truck was parked on the sand until now. “Are you sure it’s okay to drive a truck like this on sand?”

“It’s A-OK!” The martial arts expert says, beaming. “Just get up here!”

After some struggling – neither of you being the most athletic type – both honor students now stand a little away from the edge of the truck, more confused than you were on the beach floor.

Your voice fills the space. “Honey, why did you want us to-”

But he interrupts you with a thumbs up in the air. “We’re ready when you are, private police people! Please,” his blonde hair flops as he bows, “lower the door.”

A hearty Yes Sir! rings through the sunlight as brown eyes meet yours. Haruhi looks at you in confusion, and when you start to shrug, you're shrouded in darkness again, the door of the truck falling shut with a heavy slam.

“Oh, mhm.” Nodding, you look around the small, dark space. “I see what he’s doing.”

“What who is doing?” Instinctively, Haruhi’s voice falls to a whisper in the quiet trunk.

Before you can reply, a cry resonates against the steel walls, and you feel around helplessly for a boy, his shoulders shaking.

“Wahh! It’s dark and scary in here, I feel like I can’t breathe!”

“Honey-senpai, what’s wrong?” Haruhi’s whisper is replaced with alarm as she tries to find Honey in the darkness.

“Somebody let me out! I can’t take it anymore!”

And with that, the door is promptly lifted, a very alert Mori holding it up.

~ Claustrophobia Attack Strategy Failed! ~

“You haven’t gotten in the water, yet.”

“Hm?” Your hum ended in a chuckle as you watched Mori point a very sharp thing at a very confused Haruhi. She reaches out and touches the end, testing it’s blade, then gives a deadpanned look to her Senpai. As defeated as Mori can look, you supposed, he dragged the harpoon in the ground and walked off.

~ Fear of Sharp Objects Strategy Failed ~

Where was he going to put that?

“I haven’t seen you swim today. I thought you’d be jumping at the chance.” Kyoya says next to you, the day having stretched and flew by as the group had focused on the recent game proposal. It had quieted down a little as nothing was working against your fearless Haruhi, but they were determined to find something.

You had been slightly forgotten, which was okay with you.

Now you lounged deeply. Your body thanked you, seeping into the beach chair without a care in the world, Kyoya’s shirt dangling off the chair’s arm. Surprisingly, he hadn’t pestered you about getting it back, not that you were complaining. Seeing him shirtless was like seeing an eclipse across a night sky. Rare, but beautiful.

“Yeah, not really my thing.”

“Oh really?” His voice picked up in an inquisitive manner, and you felt him rustle beside you as he got off his chair.

Standing in front of you, Kyoya held out his hand, the sunset creating a brilliant stream of oranges and purples behind him. “Why don’t we go together, then?”

A blush that matched the pink in the sky painted onto your cheeks, as he looked very handsome at that moment, but a certain apprehension resisted his offer.

“You want to swim? With me?”

His eyes squint slightly. “If you’d like.”

If only you could say yes.

“But, uh, what about your glasses?” It was reaching, you both knew that. “Won’t they get wet?”

“I can take them off. You do realize they aren’t attached to me, don’t you?” Proving his point, he slid his glasses down his nose, leaning over and setting them on the small, side table that had been between you.

Now he was shirtless, and wasn’t wearing his glasses.

While the sharpness of the glasses complemented the angles of his face, the complete vulnerability of Kyoya’s gaze left you a little bit speechless. His sharp cheekbones and jawline softened slightly and he looked at you, so inviting and collected. Even the air around him seemed to stop whipping around, blowing a gentle wind through his raven locks.

Your jaw muscles clenched as you swallowed. Not just from the thought of getting into the ocean, but from the sight of this man in front of you.

Needing to look away, you darted your eyes out of his sight, pulling at your swimsuit and laughing his offer off. “You go ahead, really. I don’t really want to get my hair wet.”

“Says the woman who cannonballed into a lazy river.”

Shrugging, you grab your drink, still avoiding eye contact. “I’m full of surprises.”

But the glass doesn’t reach your lips. The tips of Kyoya’s fingers bring it down, and as he leans over you, you can’t avoid the questioning eyebrow he gives you. “Why are you avoiding the water?”

“I’m not.” Bringing the straw to your lips successfully this time, you bite it between your teeth. “I just had better things to do.”

A bored sigh blows through the Ootori son’s nostrils as his sweet, gentlemanly persona is gone, arms calmly crossing over his chest. “Don’t insult my intellect, (Y/n).”

You look at him for a moment, debating whether to keep pushing it off, but you decide against it. Expelling a breath, you set your drink down and bring your knees to your chest, shielding yourself from judgment.

“The last thing I’m not the most keen about is the ocean.” Resting your chin on one of your kneecaps, your gaze focuses on the sea behind the club’s director. “Or really any large body of water.”

“Any particular reason?”

Another shrug waves through your shoulders as you stare out into the horizon. “Not really. Just don’t like the idea of being deprived of oxygen. Then I’d just sink, and be lost.”

Your voice had gone monotone for a minute before you exhaled, finally meeting your crush’s eyes. The naked, gray irises had turned thoughtful, intent.

“Sorry,” You say, a small laugh offering to lighten up the mood. “Didn’t mean to be so morbid.”

“No, no.” Kyoya says, and he wears his glasses once more. “I can understand that.”

But he has no anger in his face, no judgment. Because you’ve known him for so long, getting to know the little shifts in his features, the signals between happy and frustrated had become second-nature to you.

So, of course you saw the dimples of sincerity, of his attempt to be open to what you had to say. But did you also see a little hint of victory?

Settling back into his chair, Kyoya heaves a deep sigh, a rumble shooting through his chest before rifling through the pocket of the shirt you had stolen.

“Well, I guess these belong to me, then.” And you were right to sense victory in his voice as the air about him turns triumphant when he pulls out two of the four photos he had presented as prizes for the ongoing competition.

“You-!” You gasped as a boastful smirk appeared on his sharp features. Suspicion coloring your voice, it’s your turn to squint. “Did you even want to go swimming? What would you have done if I had said yes?”

A deliciously pompous shrug ripples across his torso as his smirk grows wider. “Who knows? I’m full of surprises.”

“Give me those!” Drink ignored, you reach over your chair, smiling as you move into his space to steal the pictures.

But his arms are longer as he moves the pictures out of your reach. “Absolutely not, I won these.”

“You tricked me!” Your voice strains as you stretch, your fingers wiggling out their efforts.

“I would argue that you let yourself be tricked.” Despite himself, Kyoya couldn’t help the chuckle that tumbled across his upturned lips as you put a knee onto his chair, reaching and reaching.

You’re giggling, still trying to make yourself as long as possible. “I would argue that you’re a dick.”

This time when he laughs, it’s much closer, his breath trickling down the nape of your neck, and you realize just how close you are.

His arm is stretched out, the pictures well out of your grasp, while the other rests on the arm of the chair. One of your palms supports your weight on one side of his hip, while the other one is extended towards what could become some embarrassingly good black mail. Your knee perched on the edge of the chair as your other leg fell straight behind it.

It wasn’t the most comfortable position, and now that you were thinking about it, you weren’t completely sure how you got there. But you damn well didn’t want to move.

The goofy smile on your face softened as your torso bent over his knees, and his simper melted into something effortless.

Your eyes followed the movement as Kyoya’s cheekbones relaxed, his dimples shallowing as you met his eyes once more.

“You’ve been smiling more lately.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sparkling gray irises flash with questions, but who were you kidding? They were always full of questions. “Have I?”

Nodding, you tug the inside of your cheek between your teeth. “Yeah. It’s nice.”

The effort in his arms dissipates slightly, and as it sinks back onto the arm of the chair, a meaningful gleam shines in his pupils. “Maybe I have more of a reason too, lately.”

Letting your hips drop, you end up kneeling on one side of the chair while partly caging him in, getting lost in the moment. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“I couldn’t say.” His deep voice dipped and rolled as Kyoya leaned his chin up, keeping his lips a breath or two away from yours as you leaned over him, lost in the moment.

Winds blow the two of you ever so closer, the smell of sea salt and cologne accompanying the warm feeling of sun on your skin. That feeling paired with the one in your heart when you were asking yourself if…finally…

“I still need more time. I want to tell you, I just-”

“It’s okay. I need more time too.”

…time had run out?

As your torso began to brush his, you gently held your place. If he wanted this, he would have to make it as clear as the water behind you. You couldn’t risk making him feel pressured or uncomfortable.

Your heartbeat pitched as he still stretched forward.

“(Y/n)! Haruhi!”

The glass that was creating the kaleidoscope of romantic, rainbowy emotions around you shattered, making you jump back as it plunged into the sand.

Dazed, you look towards the shout, just now registering that Kyoya’s hand had found purchase on your waist before it completely disappeared. Your view is obstructed for a moment by another large boulder before the source comes into view.

The sun illuminated three feminine figures, waving atop a large cliff. You see one, taller with long, brown hair, cupping her hands over her mouth, seemingly trying to locate you. “Haruhi! (Y/n)!”

Blinking, your mind catches up with you as you realize what they are standing on. The tallest cliff on the island sits under their feet, thick and hulking as it stretches over the waters below.

“Those girls shouldn’t be up there.” You say, your voice wavering as they step closer to the ledge.

Turning back to the man underneath you, his usual sharpness has returned. No longer lost in the effects of the moment’s suncatcher, Kyoya nods his head before turning to you. “Go see what they need. Our guests come first.”

“Okay.” But your voice trails off while your brain overthinks everything that just happened, or what was about to happen, in what felt like hours, but really only took a few seconds.

The lightest of touches appear on the edges of your cheekbones as your director’s knuckles graze them, a reassuring gesture. “I’ll-,” he takes a second to clear his throat. “I’ll stay here. If you’re wondering.”

You can’t bite back the smile that stretches over your deprived lips as you sit back, plucking his shirt back on as you get up. “Flustered, are we?”

Scoffing at your surely ridiculous notion, the megane rolls his eyes. “I could say the same for you.” Kyoya’s gaze drops down your figure before opening his black book, filing those treacherous pictures into the side of it, and noting down whatever thoughts are running through his mind.

If only you could read what he was writing.

Heart skipping as you walk, you turn to make your way towards your guests, your footsteps printing themselves on the beach behind you.

Whatever happened, or was going to happen, with your best friend left you fluttery and nervous.

That was a close call. But it certainly felt like the right one.

“Oh, (Y/n)! Look up here!” Another girl, around your age with bobbed blonde hair started waving more frantically as you got closer to the base of the cliff.

“Woah, you guys are pretty high up there.” You call, shading your eyes as you look up towards them. “Be careful!”

“The breeze up here feels great!” The third student calls, their shoulder length hair stretched into a shaggy ponytail. “C’mon, (Y/n), join us!”

You were about to say no before Haruhi joined you at your side, her left hand shielding her eyes from the sun while her right carried a sand pail full of squirming shellfish. “What’s going on?”

“They want us to go up there,” you say wearily. “But I’m just trying to get them to come down.”

“It’s dangerous!” She calls out, but the girls just shake their heads and disappear from your view.

Haruhi’s mouth flattens into a thin line as she squints in the sunlight, and then sighs. “They probably can’t even hear us.”

But your attention isn’t on them anymore.

Silhouetted by the sun, three masculine forms stop at the bottom of the cliff, which laid a good distance from you. Your eyes narrowed as one of the figures pointed up the landmark, and they all eagerly, too eagerly, staggering their way up the path. Have they been drinking?

“If they can’t hear us, then we need to go to them. Right now.” Urgency pulses in your tone as you hastily grab Haruhi’s hand, pulling her along as you briskly walk across the sand.

“Woah, (Y/n)-”

“There are boys climbing up the cliff.”

Haruhi finds a way to keep up your pace. “Boys? Like our guests?”

Shaking your head, you keep an eye as the trio of shadows get higher and higher. “I couldn’t get a good look at them. But they were drunk, and we don’t serve alcohol to guests.”

But suddenly one comes into the light, a mess of a low bun and sharp eyes, his mouth twisting into a grueling smirk.

Swallowing, you break out into a full on jog. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Hm.” Chiyo says, her shorty, bouncy blond hair falling over her face as she looks over the cliff again before turning towards her friends. “I think (Y/n)-Senpai and Haruhi went somewhere else. I don’t see them anywhere.”

Her best friend since middle school, Hinata, pouts, braiding her long brown hair down her back. “Awe, I was really hoping to look at the sunset with Haruhi.”

“Yeah, and (Y/n) would’ve really loved this view.” The new girl in their class, Emi, folded her arms, her layered bangs blowing in the breeze. She had been eating lunch at Chiyo and Hinata’s usual table when the duo appeared, and they’ve hit it off ever since. Especially when they all started going to the host club together after school.

Chiyo, the bright personality of the now-turned trio, smiled a comforting smile. “It’s okay! Maybe we can get the twins’ attention, or Honey-senpai’s! I’m sure they’d love to spend some time with us.”

Hinata just shrugs, her angsty aura showing through, but Emi gives her an encouraging thumbs up. “You’re right! I’ll stay here while you two head down, so that no one steals-”

“Hey! They’re chicks up there man!”

All three girls freeze. A deep voice rang through the air, but it seemed a little far away.

“Did you guys hear that?” Emi swallows.

“I think it came from down here.” Hinata says, calculating eyes fixating on the slight slope of the cliff.

Their breaths catch when two heads appear over the slope, revealing two men, clearly older than they were by at least a couple years. Hinata’s long legs step in front of her two friends as they appear, wincing at their appearance.

One had his hood up, dark brown eyes raking over Hinata’s form before foggily swinging to her friends behind her.

The other had his hair pulled back into a low bun, his red shirt swaying with his wobbly movements as he threw an empty beer can onto the rocks.

“Oh, well aren’t we lucky..” Red shirt slowly walks up to her, his neck craning to meet her height when she steps protectively in front of her girls. “You girls want to hang out with a couple of locals?

Her face set in determination, Hinata pushes him on his shoulder, forcing him to stumble back a few inches as she gains her ground. “No thanks. Leave us alone.”

Too quickly, the man finds his footing and reaches out, pinning her outstretched wrist in his biting grip.

His voice drives onto gravel as his lips curl. “Awe, c’mon you fighter, we just want to show you girls a good time.” His hazel eyes flick behind her as she clenched her jaw.

Chiyo and Emi hug each other, protecting themselves from the stare of the man while losing sight of the other one.

“This is a private beach!” Chiyo shouts after watching Hinata stand up for her for years and finally gaining some courage. “You guys are not allowed to be here!”

The color in her face drains as arms encircle her and Emi, pulling them into a muscled torso.

“Private?” The other guy’s breath reeks of beer as it blows through Chiyo’s blonde hair. “Does that mean we’re alone?”

Suddenly, the man holding Hinata hostage by her wrist shouts out in pain, his back arching as he lets her go.

Hinata’s eyes light up when she sees Haruhi standing behind him, an empty bucket pointed right at her attacker.

She was never the one to fangirl, but damn did she want too.

“Ah!” Red shirt yells, turning around to face the person who just chucked spikey and pinchy shellfish at him. “What the hell?”

“Why don’t you quit bothering them!” Haruhi yells, her voice sounding confident but her heart beating a million miles a minute.

You and the honor student had gotten there just as the hooded boy wrapped his arms around your guests, and it left the two of you fuming.

Coming around behind Haruhi, you lifted your chin, shouting above the loud waves of the sea below you. “Weren’t you jerks listening? You better leave them alone!”

“Haruhi, (Y/n)!” Emi draws your attention as she shouts. You were so used to her smiling at your table when you hosted her. Now, her brow was stitched in fear, making your heart swell and your anger grow.

“You little runt!” The man with the low bun slurs, his words blurring together as he races forward, palms outstretched to restrain Haruhi. But you step in front and push your hands onto his chest, sending him backwards again.

“Don’t touch her or anyone else.” Your voice is stone cold as you straighten your back.

“Oh, we got a brave one, huh?” And the drunkard laughs.

Then he lunges.

Haruhi gasps as you’re pulled off your feet. The joint between your shoulder and your arm protests as Red Shirt harshly grabs your wrist and sweeps his leg under you, sending you to the floor.

“(Y/n)!” You hear Haruhi’s voice, but it’s distorted as your chin slams onto the hard ground. Your teeth crack together, and you instinctively roll yourself onto one side, wincing as you move your jaw.

“I’m fine, I’m good.” Grunting, Haruhi runs over to you to help you up. When your vision is less tilted, you see the drunkard stalking closer to the three girls.

“Hey! Douchebag!” Haruhi yells, pulling you up to your feet. “Leave them alone!”

“I can do what I want!” His words are connected by his drink, and he carelessly waves a dismissive hand to you.

Fuming, and apparently unable to learn a lesson, you rush towards him, grabbing the back of his collar and tugging him away from them. He lands on his backside, unable to catch his balance.“I said, don’t touch anyone!”

He sits there, shoulders heaving. There’s a moment of quiet where you think you won. Where he and his friend might finally leave you all alone.

“Aoi. Let them go.” Red Shirt says to his friend, apparently named Aoi, and the hooded guy hesitantly unwraps his arms from Chiyo and Emi.

The two girls immediately run to Hinata, who hugs them all gratefully, and you smile as the group is reunited.

“Girls, let’s get you out of here.” You hear Haruhi behind you as she ushers them away from the two men as they stay frozen with their heads down.

Keeping an eye on the intruders, you see the girls run around and behind you, and listen as Haruhi sends them down the cliff, out of harm's way.

You hear Aoi whimper pathetically as he slouches. “C’mon Ren, I wanted to hang out with some ladies, if you know what I mean.”

Red Shirt’s, or Ren’s, shoulders shake a little, a deep chuckle rolling out of him. “We will, man, we will.”

His back still facing you, he stands. His low bun coming loose with the action, Ren turns to face the two honor students over his shoulder.

“Let’s hang out with a chick who has some bite to her.”

Both their eyes land on you as they start to walk, their uneven steps making them seem like zombies hunting their next meal.

Heart beat pitching for the second time, you spin towards your favorite brunette. “Run, Haruhi, we gotta run!”

Trusting you, she spins and begins hiking it down the cliff. You start to follow before the collar of Kyoya’s shirt is pulled against your throat.

“Thought I’d take a page out of your book, pretty lady.” The smell of alcohol blends in with the breeze as he breathes into your ear, holding you by the back of the collar.

Hearing your struggle, Haruhi whips around, already halfway down the mountain to see the two boys surrounding you.

Shaking your head, your voice is harsh as you try to kick him off of you. “Go get help!”

Worry seeps into her eyes, her chest heaving as she bites her lip. Turning her head to the bottom of the cliff, then to the top where you were. You managed to kick Ren off of you, but Aoi was there. She knew she wasn’t going to be much use.

Brown eyes glistening, she exhales roughly as she sprints down the rest of the cliff, hoping that a certain host was where she had seen him last.

Back atop the cliff that overlooks the water, you elbow Aoi in the side before grabbing Ren’s arm and twisting it behind his back.

“You think you can just take what you want from girls? Is that it? That you can do whatever you want?” Your voice was strained, stress and emotion stretching your vocal chords to new levels.

Flashes of a dressing room come to the forefront of your mind, a doctor’s coat wrapped around a fake doctor who slipped into your dressing room and pushed you against a wall. His hand pushed into your mouth to silence you, and you couldn’t scream, couldn’t do anything.

With as much force as you could muster, you push Ren to the ground, tears of frustration coming to your eyes. “Women aren’t your toys, you asshole. Have some fucking respect.”

You were helpless in that dressing room. But not anymore.

When Aoi tried to reach for you again, you kicked him in the groin and watched him double over. Before you could celebrate, Ren scrambled back to his feet on the small rocks that littered the cliff and dove towards you. He grabbed your shoulder, spun you around to face him and slapped you. Hard.

That dizzy feeling came back, your cheek pulsing as this man yelled in your face. “Don’t talk to me like that, you bitch! Just shut up!”

Blinking, you came back to reality and jerked out of his grasp, jabbing him in the stomach before putting your head in your hands. You were okay. It was a hard hit, but you could take it. Until help came, you could take a few punches.

Once your vision was restored, you put another step forward before Ren pulled something shiny from his shirt pocket.

“I know somethin’ that’ll make you like me.” That terrible smile that will give you nightmares for weeks curled at his lips once more as he flashed open a small blade, turning it so that it glinted in the sunlight.

Your heartbeat had jumped to your head, thumping in your eardrums as all of your senses zoned into the knife he held in his large grasp.

Your throat went dry and your breaths turned shallow, the anxiety you had worked so hard to keep under control boiling to the surface.

“W-wait, hold on, man.” You say as you back up. How could you not check if he was armed?

As if he caught the scent of your fear, the back of his throat makes a satisfied growl. “Yeah? You scared? You gonna calm down for me?”

When he begins to take a step forward, you take a step back. “Please. I have people waiting for me. Let me go, and I won’t tell anyone you’re here.”

“Bullshit.” Hazel eyes flash with anger as he takes another step towards you, and you realize throughout the entire commotion, somehow he had ended up blocking the exit to the cliff. “Like I’d believe that a girl as fiery as you would let this shit go.”

“I will! I will.” You try to take a steadying breath, but it’s shaky and broken. “I swear.”

Taking another step back, your foot drags in the dirt as you hit a hard chest and feel arms wrap around your torso. A laugh rings out behind you and you recognize the cruel chuckle of Aoi as he traps you. “Don’t move, lady, or you might not like what happens.”

Arms pinned to your side, there’s nothing you can do but watch as Ren smiles, sharp canines reflecting as the sun sets behind the horizon.

“Please.” Your words breathless, fear and worry stealing your voice from your throat. “Just let me go.”

“Heh.” With a concerning amount of serenity, Ren brings the point of the knife to your chin. “I don’t think I will. I like my girls with a little fire.”

Your body was finally at his mercy as Aoi shifts his grip on you, now holding the sides of your arms instead of wrapping them around his waist.

“Whose shirt is this, sweetheart, hm? A boyfriend’s?” The hand that wasn’t holding the knife felt the fabric of the Hawaiian shirt, seeing how wrongly it fit you. “It’s definitely a men’s cut, that's for sure.”

Aoi hummed behind you, cold and disquieting. “Wanna see if she has anything under it, Ren?”

Ren’s eyes seem to flash with pride as he looks at his friend. “Absolutely.”

Shaking your head, you dig your heels in the ground as you try to push and fight when Ren brings the knife to the top button of your shirt, but Aoi holds you in place.

“Stop, stop!” Kicking your feet, you manage to make an impact with Ren’s stomach. He grunts before catching your foot in his hand.

Anger wells up in his form as he brings the knife to your calf, slashing a shallow cut across your skin.

You bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out, trying not to give them any satisfaction as a stinging, real pain burns through your skin.

“Stay still, bitch, or the next one will be deeper.”

He walks into your space again, and you turn your head, a single tear rolling down your cheek as he cuts open the buttons of Kyoya’s shirt.

Your swimsuit is revealed one button after the other, and soon the entire shirt is now hanging over your shoulders, a curtain to what was beneath.

“Oh wow, we caught a rich one, didn’t we?” Ren laughs, tracing the small H on the swimsuit with the blade he just cut you with. “What is this brand, Hitachiian? This must’ve been like a million dollars.”

“Can you pay for our drinks later, rich girl? Or maybe the rest of my tuition?” Aoi teases, and you wish something could strike him down and shut him up.

“Get the shirt off her, Aoi. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

The guy behind you’s grip loosens for a split second, and you take your chance. You push him off of you and Ren’s arm shoots out, only being able to grab the fabric of your shirt as it’s pulled off of you. Stumbling, you find a little bit of your footing and run to the edge of the cliff, stopping as you look down at the crashing waves.

“Nowhere to run, sweetheart.”

The ocean laughs at you as the water runs up the wall of the cliff, its deceptively calm waves taunting you. You wouldn’t dare.

Looking over your shoulder, Ren flips the knife in his hand. He throws Kyoya’s shirt to the wind, and you watch as it blows away, freer than you were as it succumbed to the breeze.

Your toes curled on the edge of the rocks, the heartbeat in your ears picking up its pace. You took a few breaths in, then out. In, out, in, out.

Just do it, (Y/n), jump!

But the endless blue swirled and swayed, hiding its secrets to anyone who dares to consider it at such a surface level. You imagined the blue on top turned darker as you’d sink down, lower and lower until there was nothing left.

Anxiety lurched in your stomach, but you took a step back.

But Ren’s hand spun you around by your sore shoulder, grabbing you by the straps of your bathing suit as he laughed.

“What? Too scared to take a dive?”

Part 2 is up! Go check it out in the masterlist! <- (click there)

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