Author's Note: I've decide to get rid of my first attempt, because it was…Uninspiring. So here's my new one. It's AU, but they are too fun to write. Oh, and every single pairing known to man about Ouran will probably come up. Even Éclair/Tamaki, which I noticed no one writes, much. The main pairing is Kyouya/Tamaki, so don't be confused.

Kyouya may be a lot OOC because I am horrible at characterization. Apologies.

Prosper P.I presents

Call Me Master

"We're here."

The dark-haired boy looked at the building with obvious disinterest. The structure itself was very impressive, gray, polished walls, dustless windows, and no doubt the inside was just as organized. But really, for one who has seen these type of things all his life, Kyouya Ootori couldn't be less bored.

He stares at the bright neon sign on the building that read 'SLAVES R US' in skepticism. "You dragged me up at ten in the morning to a place like this?!"

Fuyumi laughed cheerfully, "It's your seventeenth birthday today, remember? I want to get you a helpful birthday present."

Kyouya found himself glaring at the elder, "Thank you, but no," He stated bluntly, turning back to the limo, "I'd rather celebrate with a good, long sleep."

Kyouya was not a morning person.

…Then again, since when did that ever bother his sister?

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Thus, a few minutes later, the third heir of the Ootori group stood in the front registration desk of the slave market, pissed.

"Couldn't you pick out one yourself?" He asked, vex at the fact that he was forced into such a time-wasting activity. He wanted to sleep. The teen didn't give a care if his slave was the most helpful person in the world.

In fact, right now, Kyouya wouldn't have batted an eyelash if his sister told him she'd got him Dora the Explorer as a servant.

"It's more fun if you see them yourself, don't you think?"

Kyouya sighs.

The only choice left was to hurry and get this over with. He could always disown the slave if it didn't satisfy his needs. Still, Kyouya didn't need a person to look after him. He thought it'd be a burden, rather.

A light push in the shoulder sent him stumbling forward. He spins around to see Fuyumi grin at him. "Off you go. And bring one back."

Kyouya looks at the ceiling imploringly. Someone put him out of his misery.

No answer.

The bespectacled teen straightened his shoulders and walked on. It wouldn't do to shame the Ootori name by looking disheveled.

The next half-an-hour was filled with glaring white light from the lamps, smiling maids, and servants who looked at him with something akin to curiosity.

Kyouya glanced over each and every slaves' card, which was attached to their cell.

And he found none suitable.

The boy glared distastefully at the wall. It was no good. The people here were either: too short, too commoner-like, too strange, too messy, too…Everything. This is what they label first-class? He was disappointed.

"Move it!"

He jerked around at the sound of whip against flesh, surprised.

Following the drops of blood on the floor, Kyouya found the most bizarre scene ever.

"Do you know how much trouble you've caused me? You ingrate brat!" Kyouya winced at the tone, which was scratchy, and not at all good for the ears. "Upsetting Lady Éclair Tonnerre, of all people! How do you expect me to still pay you after this!?"

Kyouya blinked. Éclair Tonnerre, wasn't that the daughter who was a major influence in the world stocks? This might tell him something, He moved forward.

"I-I'm sorry! I won't, I mean, I'll apologize. Please don't cut off my pay!" Kyouya stops short at the mellow, pleading voice. For the first time, he noticed the other figure—the one kneeling on the floor, hands griping the standing one's sleeve desperately.

"I'll do anything!" The new figure begged. "Just don't cut my pay. You know my mother needs the money for her medical care!"

There was a harsh growl as the upright figure shoved the other away, "Your mother can die for all I care, you little—!"

The tall youth winced at the landing of another whiplash. The figure on the ground flinched violently, and let out a soft yelp.

Kyouya cleared his throat. "Mister…?" He inquired politely, mainly just to stop the gruesome punishment. Not that he was being kind or anything, but Kyouya really want to keep his appetite, thank you very much.

Upon hearing his voice, the 'attacker', as Kyouya nicknamed him, whirled around, panicky. When he saw Kyouya, his expression became even more flustered. "O-Ootori-san! How nice to see you here…" Then, initial shock over, a salesman smile bloomed over his features.

"You are here to get a slave, I presume? Have you been to the viewing sections yet? We've imported new ones this month. They're a spectacular sight, indeed. Which type do you prefer? Would you like the…"

Kyouya tuned him out, slightly annoyed at the chattering. All that just because he was the son of a famous investor. How superficial.

Instead, he ventured in front of the form cowering on the ground.

Noticing the shoes in front of him, the figure looked up, confused.

Kyouya's first impression was that he'd never seen so many shades of purple his entire life.

The unknown person had turned out to be a boy. A very good-looking one at that. With somewhat messy hair that was, from the glimpses Kyouya could see of what was clean, bright gold. Full lips, pale, dirt-streaked face, and large, innocent eyes. Eyes that were the strangest purple.

It couldn't be categorized. Like lavender with hints of violet and outlined in rich purple, and that was the best way Kyouya puts it.

The boy was…Interesting.

"I'll take him." He says decisively, surprising himself with the certainty in his voice.

The blonde and the merchant were just as astonished, both looking at him with a befuddled expression. The seller shifted uncomfortably. "Ootori-san…This one is not a good one…Perhaps you should look for someone more…"

Kyouya gazed at him steadily. "Are you questioning my choice?"

"O-Of course not! Never! If this is what you want then by all means, welcome yourself." The man stuttered.

Kyouya nods.

Turning back, he finds the other gaping at him with a almost comical face. "You…" A hand reached up hesitantly, "Are going to buy me?"

Kyouya nods again.

"For real?"

Now Kyouya was beginning to get ticked off. How dense was this boy?

But whatever he expected, it wasn't for the blond to spring up from the floor, wounds and all, and tackle him. "Yes! You're god! God I tell you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I, Tamaki, am fully at your service."

A warm cheek snuggled him happily, and the black haired boy could only stiffen at the sudden affection. Was it too late to regret his choice? He did not want to bring home a maniac.

"Mon ami! Mon ami! Yahoo!" The other was now leaping inhuman heights, raising his fist in cheer. Kyouya stares.

A small pause ensued as the purple-eyed teen caught himself and looked at him sheepishly. "Ah…Sorry. You're not going to disown me now, are you?"

Once again, Kyouya finds himself listening to that melodious, slightly accented voice. French? British? Kyouta couldn't tell. He shrugs indifferently. That only resulted in the other teen's anxious gaze to grow worried.

The youngest of the Ootori turns around and start walking back to the registration desk where Fuyumi was waiting for him.

"Tamaki, you are to refer to me as master from now on." He calls over his shoulder, no really caring if the other boy heard him or not.

Seconds later, a blur of yellow followed him eagerly. "Yes, Master!"

Mom, don't worry, I've just been bought by an Ootori. Pretty soon, I'll have the money to pay for you to stay in the hospital a while longer…So please hang in there a little longer.

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Author's Notes: PLEASE REVIEW AS IT IS MY FIRST FIC! CONSTRUCTIVE CRITISIZISM APPRETIATED!!!!!! UNTIL THE NEXT CHAPTER!