By: Incompetence

Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club

Summary: I thought it would be pretty damn cool to take over the family business after my dad passed away. However, I didn't know I would be taking it over with my gay twin brother, Kaoru, whom I didn't even know existed. Alternate Universe

Note: Told in Hikaru’s POV.

e.e. cummings: somewhere I have never traveled, gladly beyond

somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

Prologue

---

According to the map on my personal video screen, Flight 267 was about halfway over the Pacific Ocean. If the plane were to lose an engine, I reasoned, we had a slight chance of just about making the tip of some stray island. I don’t like to fly on planes, especially over large bodies of endless black water. However, this was first class; the shades were drawn and wine was being served. So, I didn’t really feel like I was riding in a plane as much as I felt like I was sitting in a particularly homey hotel, waiting for my room service. After all, it was only a matter of time before I would arrive in America, a place I was enthralled to arrive in, given the circumstances.

At that thought, anticipation suddenly reared its ugly head and I was unable to focus on the book in my hands that I was trying very hard to read. With a sad little frown I cast aside Moby Dick, ignoring the strange glance a man shot in my direction in favor of reaching into my pants and itching my thigh. Not to sound vulgar or anything but there was definitely something crawling in there.

I quickly removed my hand from my pants and fixed the creases of my suit. This was a new experience for me because I never wore suits, much less rode on airplanes first fucking class. And yet, here I was, in a suit, being served wine even though I hate the taste. Neat hair. Shiny shoes in place on my feet. The whole shebang. If you thought that was great, I had thought ahead and brought classy books along with me to make myself look educated.

Usually in Japan, I would dress in every day normal clothes with the exception of my school uniform: jeans with some random ass T-shirt and skinny jeans. I thought they looked good on me then and I still do to this very day. Sadly, I had an impression to make and I was required to wear a suit. So here I am, riding in said suit. I’d made sure to pack nothing but business suits and business attire in my clothes suitcase for this grand occasion.

I scratched my leg again, trying to draw as little attention to myself as possible this time. It probably looked like I was probably trying to do something disgusting and I didn’t want to be accused of committing disgusting acts. I wanted to portray someone of a classy stature. I needed to be classy.

However, I’ve never been a very classy person, or a lucky one. As soon as I looked down, I saw a centipede crawl out of the waist band of my suit. It was a yellow, green-yellow almost and a collaboration of legs thrusting its body forward. It stood out against the ebony of my pants, contrasting perfectly.

Stupidly, I made little gasping noises and remained completely still in my seat as the centipede continued its slow trek up my body, out of my suit. I was absolutely horrified, but more than this I was fascinated. Because it had absolutely no idea what I had in store for it. I quickly reached my hand out and felt around for my copy of Moby Dick. I did not want to anger the heathen residing on me, but I had to get it off. I was like a man possessed as I finally grasped the book in my finger tips; the same guy from before was giving me another strange look.

I am one of those people that used to take magnifying glasses and light ant hills on fire as a little kid because it was fun and I had no life. Caterpillars and insects alike also feared me and my hot soapy water as I scoured the neighborhood. I spent a lot of my childhood as a murderer and honestly, it was a wonder that I made it through without twisting into a serial killer.

Normally, I would have squished the little fucker right then and there. But as I sat on the plane, holding my book like a life line and staring around at the sophisticated occupants of first class, I realized that it wouldn’t be refined. If I squished the centipede here, I would be seen as inhuman and worst of all, unclassy.

I was torn. I needed the privacy of a bathroom, as well as tissues. I needed them immediately. Or else, I would forever be seen as uncivilized in the eyes of these very civilized people.

Unbuckling my seat belt with swift fingers, I carefully maneuvered myself out of my seat so I wouldn’t draw any attention to myself. The centipede crawled an inch. Two inches. I was relieved when it stopped and that the lights were dimmed so that nobody would be able to see the hideous creature clinging to my suit jacket. I was pissed because I felt like it was hitching a free ride off of me. I despise free loaders.

As I turned to walk to the restroom, I saw the man that had been staring at me earlier glance at me once again. He glanced up just as I began walking and then he looked away as if he were trying hard not to stare. It was very creepy and I wished he’d stop looking at me with his ugly fish eyes but I didn’t voice this desire out loud. I could have sworn I felt the centipede hesitate in his climbing. We were mutual in our dislike of this man.

I saw him finally eye the bug on my shirt and he hesitated; his lips parted and he looked like he wanted to say something. He was probably wondering if I knew it was on me. He also probably didn’t want to embarrass me by pointing it out.

Of course I fucking know it’s on me, is what I wanted to say. Instead, I smiled a polite smile as if to say, “It’s okay, sir. I carry this bug around with me all the time. I do this sometimes to help him out, for he has little legs.”

He quickly turned his stupid eyes away and I continued my journey, ignoring him. I was pretty sure he looked back at me because I could feel his gaze burning into the back of my head. You know, that tingly prickly feeling of pins and needles that just won’t go away; it was absolutely nerve racking.

The only reason I ignored this was because I had bigger fish to fry and my destination was now right in front of me. Once inside, I scrambled to lock the door as fast as I could and began turning the water on. I turned the knobs as far to the left as they’d go; steaming hot, of course. I also pulled out as many paper towels as I could and ignored the ones that fell to the floor and settled around my feet. I gazed at my pathetic self in the mirror and barely recognized the person staring back at me; I looked demonic with the steam rising around me in clouds.

A half mad giggle escaped my lips as I wrapped the centipede in the paper towels, chucked it in the sink of scalding hot water and poured half of the soap in after it. I’m pretty sure I heard its agonized screams as it twirled around and around.

“Fuck you!” Its distorted voice cried. “Fuck you! I thought we were friends!” I poured more soap.

“May the force be with you.” I mumbled as its head came off.

Memories of my childhood flashed before my eyes and a deep satisfaction burned within me. I was sure that if someone had entered the bathroom at that exact moment, I would have bitten their head clean off.

Something inside me seemed to click back into place as I stood motionless at the sink in the restroom, dark deed completed. I was doing nothing as the steam dispersed and the centipede’s unrecognizable body slid down the drain in a mess of melted goo. I finally realized just how long I’d been in there; my breathing was labored. I suddenly felt self conscious because how bad would that look to the other sophisticated people out there? The man from before probably thought I was in here masturbating; I have a feeling that was probably what he thought I was doing before.

I suddenly feel worse.

After gathering my bearings, I’m able to control myself and I slowly gather up all the paper towels from off the floor. I realize that my suit is a little wet from the murder I’d just committed. Of course, this was preferable to having a centipede on my shirt or in my goddamn pants.

With the bathroom clean, I left, walking back to my seat.

The man, of course, turned in his seat to watch me all the while, contemplating look in place. I knew that when he got off this plane he was going to call all his friends and tell them everything. Surely he must have heard all the thuds and mumbling.

“Dude, you’ll never believe it; some kid jacked off on the airplane,” He’ll say. “What a fucking unclassy freak.”

When I feel another itch on my thigh, I think, to hell with it and slide my hand back down my pants and scratch like I’ve never scratched before. For now on, I’ll make sure to ride like the normal peasant I am. Lesson learned: I’m not special enough for first class.

Fish-eyed man stares at me with widened eyes before turning away with an embarrassed cough. He calls over the flight attendant and then proceeds to be moved to a different seat.

That’s right. Fuck you too.

End Prologue.

A/N: It’s short but I actually think I know where I want to go with this. I just wanted to introduce Hikaru first.