Title: Burlesque Giocoso
Author: Fainn
Rating: PG-13 (Shounen-Ai. Notice the rating!)
Pairings: Pretty much everything you can think of: mainly Kyoya/Tamaki with references to Twincest and Mori/Hunny
Number of Words: 9460
Disclaimer: Would I be here if it was mine?
Warning: THIS IS PURE CRACK! Really, seriously, this is crack. Can't say I'm proud of it, but it sure was fun .

Burlesque Giocoso
Ouran's Very Own Mom/Dad Crackfic!

I. Exposition

Rustle. Rustle. Kyoya sighed as he crumpled yet another application and threw it in the wastebasket. It wasn't like him to be so careless. Usually, Kyoya always made sure to fold each paper in half, tear it down the middle, and then send the two halves through the paper-shredder to ensure that no person alive would ever be able to piece the document back together. Still, after reading over three-thousand-twenty-one sheets this past week, Kyoya felt he deserved a break.

Five-hundred-thirty-eight more to go. Kyoya groaned as he glanced at the pile of unread applications. Why was he even doing this? Desperate times require desperate measures. Was his love life so desperately in need of assistance? Was he just wasting his time? Kyoya ignored the thoughts nagging in the back of his head and reached for another paper.

Hm. This one looked promising. Clever, high marks in school. Half-European—oh! Enjoys sweets. Likes warm, fuzzy animals…now for the photograph…Kyoya could barely contain his excitement as he flipped over the sheet to glance at the photo…

…and nearly choked on his coffee. Black hair, brown eyes, drab grey clothing and buck-teeth. Major turn-off. Damn. Why was this so hard? He ripped the sheet in two—this one deserved some extra pain.

That's it. Kyoya was done. He was sick and tired of all this stupid nonsense and this one was definitely the dumbest idea he's had since that incident with the Swedish break dancer and the Aussie law firm. He snatched the entire pile and was just about to throw it all into the wastebasket when a single photograph fell out.

Damn. This was starting to annoy him. Snarling, he reached down and lifted the photo to see—

—perfection. Utter perfection.

Kyoya stared at the photograph, hardly believing his good luck. Those eyes…that hair…that mouth…oh yes she was perfect…Kyoya smirked in triumph. Who cared if he was barking mad and delusional at the moment? He had won.

At first sight.

II. Enter Subject

It was a beautiful day in Ouran Koukou. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and even through the smog-induced fog one could make out the sun. Haruhi was sitting on a sofa sipping tea and ignoring the noisy crowd around her. The last of the customers were leaving, and she could finally drop this charade and act feminine again.

Not that she knew how. It was a nice thought though, while it lasted.

Tamaki was busy mooning over a couple of cute blonde girls, showering them with phrases full of junk like "I'm not worthy of thou noble gaze" and "Is that a bell I hear? I fear you make me hallucinate." The twins were sitting by his side, laughing amongst themselves and making ridiculous hand gestures. Mori was feeding Hunny cake. Strangely enough, Kyoya was nowhere to be seen. Haruhi had asked him about it before he left and he'd smiled, a sure sign he was plotting something. Haruhi hoped it wouldn't be as bad as Swedish break dancer fiasco.

Speak of the devil.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen." Kyoya, wearing a full tuxedo and tie, stepped in the Host Club with grace reminiscent of King Arthur. Or a very smug bastard. Depends on how you look at it.



Kyoya smiled, that entirely-too-innocent Devil's smile he was so fond of. "You heard me."

Tamaki stared, "…how…how…WHAT!"

Kyoya just smiled again, "Yes indeed, my dear King—looks like I've finally beaten you in something."


"Yes, me."


"I believe we've already established that."


"…I believe that is the point."

Tamaki's eyes narrowed suspiciously, "Is it another otaku?" Kyoya shook his head, "No."

"A stalker?"


"A lunatic?"


"Someone with filthy ulterior motives?"


Tamaki glared again, "Do you love her?"

Kyoya stared, "No. But she's loaded."

"How can you do this?" Tamaki all but screeched, "What about the club? A married man can't be part of a host club!"

"She probably wouldn't mind."

"What about your fans? How can you promote extramarital relationships?"

"Is that a problem?"

"What about your whole life…what about romance…what about—"

"It's an arranged marriage," Kyoya explained, "Recently my father has decided that a union between me and the daughter of the second-largest corporation worldwide would be profitable. I am merely doing what's best."

Haruhi stared, "Second-largest? Who's first?"

"Us, of course."

"This is ridiculous!" Tamaki wailed, "You can't have a king without a queen! Dad without Mom! This…this…this has to be illegal!"

"Not at all," Kyoya replied nonchalantly, flipping out his ever-present clipboard and tapping against the pages, "I did a thorough background check. Section 24, Clause 57 of the Book of Proper Host Club Management states clearly that a married man can operate the club's finances, so long as his performance is exemplar. And I am exemplar, am I not?"

They looked at one another, and slowly nodded their heads. Kyoya beamed, "Well, now that it's all settled, I thought I should introduce you to the lady who will be, henceforth, controlling half of the club's funds."


"And hello to you too." A smooth, low voice from the doorway made itself known. The Host Club gaped as they took in the wavy blonde hair, the large, violet-hued eyes, and the slim, elegant figure that stood in their doorway. Haruhi stared. No. No. It couldn't be, it simply defied all logic and reasoning, because there in the doorway stood…


In a dress!

Haruhi choked back a terrified scream as she gazed at the figure. A tight, short-sleeved blouse, black leather high heels, and a hip-hugging, utterly-too-short-to-be-legal miniskirt barely clung to the slim form. Haruhi closed her eyes, trying to erase the image when she heard a familiar, smooth baritone say:

"Oh. My. God."

Tamaki stood, dressed in his Ouran uniform, looking utterly horrified at the scantily-clad sight. Haruhi blinked. Wait. But if Tamaki was here, and SchoolGirl!Tamaki was over there…

At that moment, SchoolGirl!Tamaki strode over and attached herself to Kyoya's waist. "Oh, Kyoya-darling, I've been completely depressed since you left this morning. A beautiful night together, and you didn't even say good-bye? How totally heartless of you." SchoolGirl!Tamaki gave a huge, fake sob before stage-whispering, "But I suppose you could make it up to me tonight…"

The Ouran Koukou Host Club was Officially and Totally…Disgusted. While club members attempted to absorb the situation, Kyoya uttered the fateful words—

"Everyone, meet my fiancé, Hamaki."

III. Countersubject

Tamaki was ushered back into the waking world with a pounding headache. The twins were hovering over him, grinning broadly as they said (in perfect unison), "Welcome back, Your Highness! How was your trip to Hell?"

"Haha, very funny." Tamaki glared, "I fainted? I don't remember a thing. Where're the others?"

"Around. Haruhi said something about a first aid kit in the dishwasher."

"Oh, okay. What about Kyo—" Tamaki's eyes widened as he remembered some disgusting, frightening, and highly Disturbing news.



Tamaki fainted again.


"…your Majesty, it's really not that bad."


"…I agree with Hikaru, sir. It's not that bad. He's just en-"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! KAORU, YOU STUPID TRAITOR! What is wrong with you guys? Have you seen his fiancé?"


"She's pretty hot…for a girl."

"Hotter than me? Hikaru, surely you don't mean that…"

"Alas, Kaoru, I'm not blind."

"Hikaru! I'm shocked! How could you—mmph!"

"Shh…listen to me. No one will ever match your beauty in my eyes, Kaoru…let me show you…"


The twins blinked, "What do you mean? It's not like you're not used to it by now."

Tamaki stared, "But…I thought…that was only for show?"

The twins stared, "…why would it be for show? Why do you think we do it so well? Obviously we must have some knowledge of each other's bodies—"

Tamaki closed his eyes and screamed, "LALALA. I AM NOT HEARING THIS! EW…"

The twins huffed indignantly, "Knock it off, Tama. At least we have sex lives. And from the looks of it, Kyoya's going to have one soon…"

Tamaki sighed, "Fine. At least I have Mori, Hunny, and Haruhi to accompany me in my loneliness…"

Haruhi looked up from her tea, "Actually, count Mori and Hunny out."

Silence. Then three voices cried—


Haruhi nodded, "You didn't know? With all that time spent together, it's a matter of common sense, really."

Three pairs of eyes stared before yelling, "MORI! HUNNY!"

"Hm?" Hunny looked up, strawberry cream stuck on his cheek.

"Are you…are you…"

Mori reached over and wiped the cream off Hunny's cheek.

"Are we what?" Hunny started licking the cream from Mori's fingers.

"Are you…"

Hunny took one look at the clock and cried, "Oh! Takashi! Our whipped cream order's probably arrived! The whip and cherries are at your house, right?" Mori nodded. Hunny beamed, "Alright! Sorry guys, we have to go! Takashi, if we leave now we can still pick up our new mattress from the warehouse. See ya'll!" Hunny jumped up into Mori's arms and the two promptly left the room.

Hikaru, Kaoru, and Tamaki just blinked.

"Was that…"

"Did they mean…"

"Apocalypse. A full-sized goddamn apocalypse."

Haruhi drank her tea, "Told you so."


Haruhi snarled as she dabbed Tamaki's face with a wet cloth. The twins had left half an hour ago, saying something about "impossible to deal with" and "stupid Tama." At the moment, Haruhi was not inclined to disagree.

"Haruhi? Why do you think Kyoya's got a fiancé?"

"Because he wants power."

"Haruhi? Do you think Kyoya's mad at us?"


"Haruhi—" Haruhi slapped Tamaki with the wet cloth.

"OOWW! Why the hell did you do that?"

"Because you're being stupid." Haruhi narrowed her eyes and glared. "Tamaki, it's entirely up to Kyoya whether or not he wants a fiancé. You don't have a choice in the matter. Give it up."

"Give up?" Tamaki looked scandalized, "NEVER!"

Haruhi rolled her eyes, "Honestly, Tamaki! Did it ever occur to you that Kyoya might want this engagement?"


"…that he might be…lonely? Seeking female companionship?"

"Kyoya? Ha!"

"Tamaki!" Haruhi stared into Tamaki's forehead, searching for some opening by which she could reach him, "Kyoya is just like other people. I know sometimes he tries to hide it with snarky words and false smiles, but he's a person. Tamaki-senpai, you out of all people should know what goes on in Kyoya's head…he might genuinely want this relationship…it might be good for him."

Tamaki looked genuinely moved, "Kyoya…needs…companionship?"

Haruhi nodded solemnly, "Yes. That's why I think you should give this girl a chance…she might not be as bad as you think she is."

Haruhi left the room feeling as if she made a Genuine Difference in Somebody's Life. Tamaki seemed to really understand what she was saying, for once…it looked like he really calmed down…

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Tamaki sighed and tilted his chair back, adopting the pose of a contemplating scholar. Unlike Socrates or Plato, however, he came to his Great Enlightenment in exactly three minutes of serious contemplation.

"Kyoya. Fiance. Kill now."

IV. Development

"Tell me why we agreed to this."

"We didn't."

The twins gave identical dramatic sighs and rubbed their temples in a sign of defeat. The Host Club, in a show of support for Kyoya and his new fiancé, was in one of Kyoya's family greenhouses having tea, eating pastries, and chatting with Hamaki.

"Honestly, I've never tried commoners' coffee before! Haruhi-kun, you simply must give me the recipe!"

Haruhi's eyes widened at the familiarity of that phrase, "H-hai, Hamaki-chan."

Hamaki laughed, purple eyes twinkling and promptly pounced on Haruhi, "Haruhi-kun! You are simply too adorable!"

Again—does this sound familiar?

Tamaki, meanwhile, was gazing at Haruhi with a look of betrayal. How dare she, consorting with enemy! If Haruhi ended up liking her, that would be a serious hurdle into Tamaki's plans. He required Haruhi's complete cooperation. Half-snarling, he pulled Haruhi out of Hamaki's embrace, "Pardon me, madam, but Haruhi-kun is extremely sensitive to touch and does not like strangers fondling her."

Haruhi raised an eyebrow, "…but you do it all the time, senpai."

Tamaki glared. The girl was not cooperating.

Hamaki stared, looking a bit dazed before shaking her head to clear her thoughts. "Sorry, Haruhi-kun! I'll try not to do it again! Sensitive to touch? You must've had such a difficult childhood—that's right! Haruhi-kun is a commoner, isn't she?"

Kyoya gave an indulgent smile, "Yes, dearest, she is."

Hamaki promptly burst into tears. "Oh, Haruhi-kun! A COMMONER! You must be sad, and being poor, have to slave under rich people who overwork you! DO YOU CRY YOURSELF TO SLEEP AT NIGHT?"

Haruhi blinked.

Hamaki wiped away the excess tears, "Sorry, I've been watching 'Oshin' lately and it's my favorite…"

Tamaki was surprised, "You watch that show? Isn't it just too—" He glanced around and remembered his position. The girl was his enemy! "—I mean, I've never watched the show in my life."

An awkward silence followed. The twins sighed; once again, it was up to them to break the ice. Hikaru suppressed a yawn, "Hamaki-chan, what do you do in school?"

Hamaki beamed, "Well, I do well if I do say so myself. My favorite subjects are English and French, but I really love drama! I guess I'm a bit of a drama queen, and oh! I like sweets and all that junk, but I really adore soap operas and I've acted in a few too! Oh, but my best friend in the world is my stuffed bear called Kuma-chan.---"

Haruhi gaped.

The twins blinked.

Tamaki looked pissed.

Kyoya was examining the terrain and jotting down notes as Hunny and Mori fed each other chocolate tart.

Haruhi couldn't believe it. The similarity was—uncanny. Could it be…?

"Hey, Hamaki-chan?"


"Would you happen to be half-French?

Hamaki smiled, "Yes! Is it very obvious?"

Haruhi gaped.


"Did you see that woman? She is completely unbearable! How could Kyoya be engaged to someone like that? I mean, all she does is talk and talk and talk and she is so melodramatic and IRRITATING!"

"Tamaki, doesn't Hamaki…remind you of someone?"

Tamaki blinked, "No one I can think of. Why?"

Haruhi sighed, "Never mind."

Hikaru yawned, "Well, I can't say I hate her as much as Tama does, but she is quite boring."

Kaoru yawned, "I agree."

Tamaki continued, "And a stuffed bear named Kuma? How unoriginal is that? I tell you, there's something severely wrong with that woman!"

Hunny blinked, "Hamaki-chan wasn't so bad…she had very pretty eyes."

Tamaki glared, "Her eyes were purple. P-U-R-P-L-E. No one has purple eyes! I mean, how tacky is that? Purple with yellow? Puh-leaze!"

Mori finally spoke, "Tamaki, you have purple eyes too."

Tamaki countered, "Your point?"

Mori shrugged. Haruhi stared—was no one going to tell him?

Oblivious to Haruhi's stricken face, Tamaki continued, "I tell you, something must be done about that woman. Obviously she does not match with Kyoya and Kyoya could never, EVER like someone like that. Tomorrow we are going to go to Kyoya and give an ultimatum: either she goes, or we go."

The twins stared, "Are you serious? Why would we quit the Host Club?"

"Well, duh. Kyoya cares the most about profit, right? If we can make it so the benefits that come from being married to Hamaki become less compared to that of kicking her out, so to speak, Kyoya will cancel the engagement!"

"But Tama-chan! Does Kyoya have a choice in this in the first place?" Hunny piped up, eyes widening.

"Of course he has a choice. He's had a choice in everything he does. God knows why he does things this way though."

"Doesn't Kyoya have some really tragic childhood in which his family is pushing him towards business, or something?" Hikaru asked.

"No, not really. I mean, his family has standards and stuff, but he still has the last say over what he does. I mean, his parents aren't trying to kill him or anything."

Kaoru stared, "What about the time with the clif—"

"—we agreed never to speak of that again."

Haruhi was getting mad, "Tamaki, why don't you just give Hamaki a chanc—"

"What, Haruhi-dear? I'm afraid you'll have to speak a bit louder than that. Anyhow, what we need is a PLAN to show Kyoya that Hamaki is absolutely unfit to be his fiancé!" Tamaki announced triumphantly.

Silence. Utter silence.

"Of course, I will need the full cooperation of everyone in the Host Club! Who will embark with me on this most noble mission to save mankind?"

"…do we have a choice?"

V. Ostinato

Step 1: Prove the girl is very stupid.

Haruhi glared as Tamaki pushed her into the kitchen.

"Just tell me…how exactly is this supposed to work?"

Tamaki smiled and winked, "Uh-uh-uh! No negative attitudes on Daddy's lucky day! Today is the day that Kyoya breaks his engagement!"

Haruhi sighed, "Tamaki—just how is holding a private baking lesson with Hamaki going to break the engagement?"

"I know—genius, isn't it? This private baking lesson will prove, beyond a doubt, that the girl is woefully incompetent at household chores and therefore as a wife. Also, I've picked the hardest recipes in the world for you to cook, and once Kyoya compares your own genius to her misdirected stupidity, he'll be begging to let her go! And you know what's even better? I've placed cameras in five different locations throughout the kitchen to capture every moment of her humiliation!" Tamaki's eyes sparkled with anticipation, "I'm going to love every moment of this!"

"…I still don't think it's going to work."

"Now now, Haruhi, cooperate with Daddy just this once. Now don't go anywhere, I'll be right back"

Before long, Haruhi heard footsteps echoing down the hall and prepared herself for battle.

"Haruhi-kun! Hello!"

Haruhi put on a fake smile, "Hello, Hamaki-san. Tamaki told you of the arrangement?"

Hamaki's flirtatious smile was eerily reminiscent of Tamaki's, "Of course, Haruhi-kun. We're baking today, aren't we?"

Haruhi nodded, "Yes—in fact, let's get started, shall we?" She leaned over to glance at the recipes Tamaki had so thoughtfully laid out, "We'll be making…shark fin soup, baked stuff lobster, almond butter chicken strips, caviar-avocado wraps, mushroom-pecan-ice cream salad, cranberry apple strudel, zucchini bread and crème brulee."

Shark fin soup? Stuffed lobster? Haruhi didn't even know what half of the stuff was! Tamaki hadn't been joking when he said he selected the hardest recipes to make. Not only were all these foods expensive, but they'd take HOURS to prepare—each! Tamaki had firmly instructed Haruhi not to leave the room until all the recipes were cooked—that could take days! Weeks, even, depending on how many lobsters they had to bake! Haruhi felt a snarl rising in her throat.

Hamaki, however, seemed to be feeling quite the opposite. "Ooh! Caviar-avocado wraps? I LOVE those things! I used to make them all the time for my dad! Hm…baked lobster? That doesn't sound bad—oh, I adore strudel! This is going to be fun, Haruhi-kun! Haruhi-kun? Why are you on the floor? Haruhi-kun? Haruhi-kun, wake up! Hello?"


"You fainted!"

"…Tamaki-senpai, should you really be one to talk?"

"She does have a point there, Your Highness."

"Pity though…I love crème brulee."

"I could make some for you…just the two of us…?"




Step 2: Prove she is not nearly as beautiful as we are.

(We? Tamaki-senpai?) Fine. Not nearly as beautiful as I am, then.

"Is this even ethical?"

"Desperate times require desperate measures, Haruhi."

"Desperate. Desperate is the key word, senpai."

"Shoo shoo, children. Go play somewhere while Daddy works."



Two days later…

"I've done it! I've done it! The stage for Hamaki-Humiliation has been set."

"…sir? Just what did you do?"

"Ho ho ho...you see, every girl's pride should be her skin. It isn't very often that you can find people with skin as white and perfect and pure as mine, and—"

"—didn't you just say 'every girl's?'"

"P'shaw, whatever, Hikaru. Anyhow, to ruin someone's skin is to ruin their entire image and desirability goes down exponentially when this is so."

"Very good, m'lord."

"Thank you, Kaoru. I will have all of you know that when I snuck into her house this evening, I spiked all of her facial creams with ample amounts of viacoine cyanide."

"With what?"

"—substance that makes your skin turn purple."


"Ah indeed. The next key is a girl's hair. As you know, the only color that clashes even more hideously with purple than yellow is—"


"Very good, Hunny-senpai! I've also switched her shampoo with puce-colored hair dye."

"…there's puce-colored hair dye?"

"Um, no, Haruhi, but in case you forgot, I am filthy rich."

"My apologies."

"To top off my grandest scheme ever—"

"—your only scheme, ever."

"—is the fact that, even as we speak, I've sent Mori to deliver a package of the ugliest set of clothing to Hamaki's house, with a 'personal note from Kyoya' written on it expressing how he'd love to see her wear those clothes to school tomorrow…"

"You didn't…"

"I am a genius. A complete, total, fucking genius!"

"Sir? Don't you think you're going a bit too far with this?"

"No, why?"

"…never mind."


The next morning, Host Club members could hardly contain their laughter when Hamaki came skipping over to the Music Room with puce-colored hair and the most outrageously tacky yellow-polka-dotted orange bikini to show off her marvelously violet skin.

She didn't notice a thing.

"Kyoya-darling!" Her smile was not as effectively today, having spoken from neon yellow lips (courtesy of Tamaki's yellow lipstick).

Tamaki held his breath, desperately trying to hold back laughter as everyone waited for Kyoya's reaction.

Kyoya blinked, expression inscrutable, standing up and examining Hamaki in a circle as if trying to search for some kind of flaw (besides the obvious ones).

Slowly, Kyoya muttered softly, "Hamaki…?"

"Yes, Kyoya…?"

"Did you, perchance, do this for me?"

"Yes, Kyoya-sweetie…"

Kyoya beamed, "Marvelous. How did you know puce and purple were my favorite colors?"



"Honestly, senpai, I thought you did your research."


"Yeah…I mean, you should have known beforehand that Kyoya liked colorful women."



Step 3: Prove Hamaki isn't Faithful

"I have to admit I'm impressed. I hadn't known mankind could reach this level of stupidity."

"Really? I thought the Swedish breakdancing incident came pretty darn close."

"Nah—that cannot compare to this."

"Oh, will the two of you just shut up? I know this is going to work!"

"Really, King? You've been saying that since the first plan."

"No, shush! My previous plans didn't work because I tried to target surface flaws. I should've known that Kyoya would want to look deeper than that! No, to really convince him we have to target Hama from the inside—from the foundation of her morality, her CORE VALUES—"

"—and that's why you're going to make out with her in a closet?"

"Oh, please. You make it sound so coarse. I know as a fact that the human value Kyoya admires most is loyalty. If I can prove that Hamaki isn't going to loyal to him, the engagement is off!"

"…um, senpai? Did it ever occur to you that rather than blaming Hamaki-san, Kyoya might blame you?"

"Blame me? Nonsense, Haruhi! Kyoya loves me!"



Tamaki smiled his most winning smile. He spoke with his most honeyed phrases. His eyes gleamed with unspoken emotion and his lips trembled with romance.

All for his plan.

"Hamaki-san…aren't the trees today lovely?"

Hamaki smiled her most winning smile. She spoke with her most blushful and maidenly phrases. Her eyes sparkled with mysterious romance and her lips trembled with anticipation.

She looked absolutely sinister.

"Why, yes, Tamaki-kun—the trees are lovely today."



Kyoya blinked. He hardly ever made contact with Mori, and as far as he could remember, the taller man had not initiated a conversation with Kyoya ever before. Why was he talking now?

Hunny nodded his firm approval, "Aw, c'mon, Kyoya! It'll be fun!"

Kyoya raised a skeptical eyebrow, "Just where are we going?"

Hunny giggled and placed a finger on his lips, "It's S-E-C-R-E-T."

Mori's eyes flickered towards Hunny, as if he couldn't help being drawn to the sound of Hunny's laughter. Hunny smiled back, eyes glowing with some sweet and pure emotion…

Kyoya sighed: he really didn't understand why the others hadn't figured it out yet. It was so obvious.

He checked the clock—the club was just about to close anyhow. Couldn't hurt to humor them a bit, right?

"Sure…why not?"


"The trees today are so beautiful…they shine, captivating—so like the gaze of a young woma—" Tamaki tensed as he heard the sound of Hunny's chatter drifting down the hall: time to put the plan into action.

"—let's come into the closet for a while."

Hamaki blinked, "Excuse me? We were just talking about tree—EEP!" Tamaki promptly yanked her into the closet and shut the door, forcefully covering Hamaki's mouth with his palm. He could hear voices outside:

"Ooh, look! A closet!"

"…yes, Hunny? That closet's been here since…forever."

"I wonder what's inside?"

Just as the first rays of light found their way into the closet, Tamaki uncovered Hamaki's lips and kissed her.


Tamaki watched Kyoya blink, his face settling into a blank expression. Hamaki promptly panicked.

"Wait, Kyoya-honey, I can explain—"

Something shone in Kyoya's eyes, and Tamaki did an inner victory dance—he had won. Taking a deep breath, Kyoya said,


Tamaki smirked, "Yes…?"

"That was a magnificent performance. Would you care to do it in the Host Club tomorrow?" The dollar signs that had been lurking in Kyoya's eyes promptly burst out into full view, "It was a very passionate encounter. I'm sure the customers would appreciate the quality of romantic foreigners, and it could potentially boost Tamaki's falling approval rates."

Kyoya smiled, "Would you consider it?"


"Why? WHY!"

"Well, senpai, you did sort of ask for it."

"Yeah, I mean, Kyoya was only making use of a golden opportunity."

"Besides…making out with Hamaki on a daily basis shouldn't be that bad, right? Unless she's a terrible kisser?"

"That's not the point…urgh, where's the Listerine?"


Step 4: Prove she's impossible to Deal With

"Senpai, you really should give up now. I mean, haven't you had enough?"

"What do you mean, Haruhi?"

"Well, you see, senpai…none of your plans have actually worked."

"Listen, I didn't go this far to be beaten now! I'm going to try a fresh approach…not pushing them away from each other, but bringing them together!"


"I agree with Kaoru. Aren't they a little young?"

"Okay, first of all—not that kind of 'bringing together.' And second of all—aren't you and Kaoru 'a little young' yourselves?"

"That's different. We're brothers."


"…uh, anyways, I'm going to show Kyoya how impossible Hamaki would be to live with on a day-to-day basis! That means constant contact, constant companionship, and constant badgering!"

"Oh yeah! You could handcuff the two of them together! It worked for me…"

"No handcuffs, Kaoru. Please."

"Haruhi's right. Handcuffs are really overrated, y'know? They're cold and cut into your wrists and—"

"—I don't recall you complaining last time, beloved kinsman."

"Situational differences. I don't think Tamaki wants Kyoya and Hamaki to—"

"DIDN'T I TELL YOU GUYS TO SHUT UP? Thank you. What I was planning to do was to lock them in a closet together for 14 hours."




"…fourteen? Why fourteen?"

"Because twelve is too short and twenty-four too long."

"…this is the second time you're using a closet in your plans. Could it be that you have a closet fet—"


"Just checking."

"Senpai, how can you guarantee that Kyoya would not like being with Hamaki?"

"I'm planning to get her drunk beforehand."



"…uh, m'lord? You do realize that putting a drunken woman with a, well, interesting man like Kyoya might have…reproductive consequences?"

"Are you kidding? Drunken or no, Kyoya would NEVER sleep with someone like Hamaki! That woman is abominable, atrocious, appalling—"


"zit-picking, zornful zapping LOSER!"

"…just for curiosity's sake, senpai—how many dictionaries do you have at home?"



Kyoya was having a very normal day. He had woken up in the morning, gotten dressed, called Tamaki to wake him up, ate breakfast, and arrived at school. School passed with its normal selection of classes, and Kyoya settled comfortably into his normal routine. After school, he walked over to the Host Club, and was just about open the door when he felt someone hit the back of his neck and blacked out.


When he awoke, he found himself in a dark, enclosed area that smelled suspiciously like the closet he'd encountered a few days ago. Beside him, he could sense another moving body. The air was laced with the scent of alcohol, but upon further inspection Kyoya realized that it was indeed his fiancé who was lying next to him.

"Hamaki? Hamaki, wake up."

Hamaki blinked, the alcohol in her system forcing her to wake up and giving her an unnecessary boost of energy.


Kyoya stared, uncharacteristically unsure of how to act in this situation. On one hand, he had a perfectly willing victim to abuse, but on the other hand, there wasn't a reason to spoil their relationship before the wedding night. Still, he was really bored at the moment and had nothing better to do. But then again, doing something might damage his reputation—permanently.

Kyoya sighed: why did things have to be so difficult?



"That's nice."


"How lovely."


"That's it! I've had enough! Hamaki, stay still so I can knock you out again."


"Yes, I would. Now, if you don't mind—hey! Hey! Try not rip my shirt ok—never mind. Ouch, no, not the hair—please, I like that belt very much and—Keep still, okay? Dammit, whoever put me into this, I am so suing their asses off."


Tamaki threw his head back and laughed, "Time's up! Let's go check up on our happy lovebirds!"

The twins groaned, "Whatever, king, whatever."

As the club started to walk towards the closet, they began to grow uneasy. After all—where was the ear-spliting shrieks? The yells? The cries of "No, no, get me out of here!"? Everything was eerily silent, and though he tried not to show it, Tamaki was growing nervous.

Silently, he inserted the key into the lock and turned…




Kyoya, shirt ripped to shreds and belt undone, was lying against the stack of brooms with his hair ruffled and streaks of grime around his cheeks.

His glasses were lying in Hamaki's lap, where her dress was in ribbons and the top part of her uniform sliding off her shoulders.

Both looked equally…indecent.

Tamaki fainted.


"…it's over, senpai."


"Give up."



Step 5: Prove she…doesn't reallylove him.

He couldn't give up. Not yet. Inside, Tamaki knew he was defeated, but how could he give Kyoya up to such an atrocious wretch like Hamaki? No—he'd die before he'd let that happen. Tamaki gave a dramatic sigh as he attempted to lift another glass of champagne (his fourth for the day), "To Me."

"To you."

Tamaki yelped as he heard the voice behind him. Surprise turned to disgruntlement as he saw Hamaki smirking behind him.

"Feeling a little down in the dumps?"

"You could say that," Tamaki muttered.

Hamaki patted him on the back, "Don't worry, we all have our 'up' days and our 'down' days. Sometimes I feel so miserable I can hardly breathe."

Tamaki's eyes widened…that statement sounded so familiar…where had he heard it before? "You feel miserable?"

Hamaki nodded, "It's okay. My parents are not that big on me, so I find it hard to keep confident sometimes, y'know?"

Tamaki could only stare, "Your parents?"

"Well, not really my parents—they're nice and all, but sometimes…it just doesn't seem like anyone really cares about me." Hamaki smiled, a sardonic, self-deprecating smile, "That's why I act like such a bitch sometimes."

"Agreed. I hate you, okay?" Tamaki turned back to his champagne.

Hamaki laughed, "You're funny!"

"Not funny. Histrionically expressive and devastatingly gorgeous."

"Just like me." Hamaki smirked.

"Hey, don't compare the likes of me to the likes of you! We are nothing alike, trust me."

"Oh? How so?"

"Well, first of all, you're a total bitch and I'm not. Secondly, I actually have friends. Haruhi, the twins? They adore me. Thirdly, Kyoya likes me, while you are entirely unsuitable to wipe the shoes on his feet, never mind be his fiancé."

"…how many drinks have you had?"

"Four. What does that have to do with anything?"

Hamaki shrugged, "No reason. Why am I not good enough for Kyoya?"

"First of all, you're a total drama queen."


"Second of all, you're completely unbearable."


"Thirdly, you have no sex appeal at all. Purple with yellow? Puh-leaze."

Hamaki nodded, "Maybe. But that doesn't matter as long as I love Kyoya, right…?"

"Love? Hmph. You don't know anything about him to begin with!"


"Okay, what's his middle name?"

"Doesn't have one."

"What's his father's business?"

"Nobody's business."

"What does he like to eat with toast?"

"Korean barbecue sauce."

"Favorite sports team?"

"British chess team."

"Favorite colors?"

"Puce and purple."

Tamaki huffed, "Hell, everyone knows that stuff."

Hamaki just smiled again, "Then why don't you ask me more personal things?"

"Fine. What side of the bed does he get up from?"


"Which pair are his favorite sneakers?"

"None. He wear leather shoes—always."

"...Pet peeve?"

"Dealing with stubborn people."

Tamaki couldn't believe it. This girl really did know more about Kyoya than he thought…

"…what…what's his dream?"

"To take over the family business."

"No—his real dream."

"To find his own Paradise."


"Too manipulative, edgy, cold…sometimes his face closes off like he doesn't want anyone beside him. How he always judges everything around him…he doesn't give second chances a lot. How he's impossible to wake in the morning—"

Tamaki stared. If she really did know him so well…why…?

"—why do you love him?"

He watched as Hamaki's eyes seemed to soften, how her entire body seemed to relax. "I love him…because…no matter how cruel or cold he is, he always feels human. I love how he always tries to care for people in that indirect way of his…I love his sense of justice, but how he doesn't go overboard…but most of all…

I love how he brushes his hair in the morning. How everything falls into place except those few hairs in the back. I love how he growls and tugs at his shoes if they won't fit. I love how he looks when he's sleeping, and he how laughs when he's awake. I love how he also tries to avoid eating cauliflower and pushes it to the side of the plate. It's…just the little things…and somehow…just watching over someone like him…makes me feel special…"

Something was beating inside of his skull. Tamaki has that feeling that he's forgotten something, and he's on the verge of remembering it…but he can't. Hamaki's words are choking him.

She's right. She really does love him. She belongs with Kyoya.




Tamaki feels himself surrender, and despite his drunken state, manages to clap Hamaki on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I was wrong."

Hamaki is surprised, "Huh?"

"I'm sorry. I was wrong about you…congratulations. Be happy with Kyoya. You two…have my blessing."

Tamaki rises, feels dizzy, but forces himself to wait until he's safely out of view to collapse onto the ground, sobbing.

VI. Scherzando

"Hello. You've reached Tamaki's cellphone, and I, as King of Ouran Koukou and Prince of Romance, have declined to answer your call. Please don't take this personally—it's hard to be so loved. If you leave a message, however, I'll be sure to call you back…a good King never denies his subjects' need to acknowledged! Have a nice day!"


"Tamaki? Hey, um, Haruhi here. I was wondering if you were ill or something…you haven't come to school for two days, so I was wondering if your fever's any better or not. I have some fever medicine at home that you could use, but if it's not that serious I'd like to save it. Call me back, okay?"


"Er, right. You really need to change that answering machine of yours, King. (I agree with Hikaru, it's terrible! ) Yeah, well, anyhow, Mori told us about how they found you at the bar…(listen, Kyoya's really mad about this! He says it's not good for the Club or something!) So, uh, just to give you a head's up, he'll probably be calling soon…um…yeah, gotta go. (Ja!)"


"Tama-chan! We really miss you over here! Takashi and I want you to get well soon, ne? Come back!"


"Tamaki, I'm not proud of your behavior. I must say, your customers are very distressed, and if you keep going at this rate, you'll have a debt equal to the size of Haruhi's. Even if you are ill (which I suspect you're not), that's no excuse to ditch club meetings.

On the other hand, I've called to say that Hamaki told me about you giving your blessing. I must say, that's very thoughtful of you (although it doesn't make a difference to me). Hamaki and I will be signing the prenuptial agreement tomorrow afternoon, and after that, we'll make plans for the wedding. Considering that you are one of my oldest acquaintances, I'm offering you the position of best man. Take that as you may, but don't say I didn't warn you.

Have a nice day, Tamaki, and may you broil in self-guilt and regret for all the dollars lost to your folly."

VII. Canon

Tamaki checked the thermometer in his mouth. 97.5 degrees—no fever yet.

Truthfully, Tamaki wasn't really sick. Tamaki's parents thought he was overreacting, but Tamaki defended his case by insisting that colds didn't come up until two or three days later, a scientifically proven fact that didn't, he neglected to mention, apply to fevers. Feeling more than a little ticked off, Tamaki stuck the thermometer back into his mouth.


Tamaki had lain in bed for two days already, waiting desperately for some type of enlightenment or apocalypse—either would do. He desperately needed to know what the emotion was that he was feeling…this sickness that seemed to reside in his heart, rising up like a fever and yet chilling him to the bone.

He felt nauseous as well. Every time he thought of Hamaki, his stomach would heave and he'd run to the toilet, only to find that nausea was only temporary. It wasn't just Hamaki that was causing these feelings—the thought of a wedding, the thought of Kyoya, and the thought of mushroom-pecan-ice cream salad also made him sick.


Scratch that. Kyoya wasn't making him nauseous—Kyoya was giving him a headache. Of course, if Kyoya had devoted two days to think nonstop about Tamaki, he'd probably have a headache too. In Tamaki's opinion, no one should ever try spending two straight days thinking only about one person—especially one as infuriating and unreadable as Kyoya.

Kyoya. What a stupid bastard. How could that guy just be so…indifferent towards everything? I mean, he didn't even bat an eye when I was kissing his fiancé! Any normal guy would have exploded by then but no…not Kyoya. He's too perfect, too awesome, too inhuman to feel emotion.

And Hamaki. Was that girl a real nutcase or what? I mean, she can be so infuriatingly sappy: disgusting! Maybe she's bipolar—one minute she's angsting the life out of her, and the next she's smiling and happy again! The two idiots probably deserved each other!


Hamaki's words kept haunting him. The way she'd talked…there'd been something strange about the way she talked—how she talked, really. She had spoken her heart out, like she had nothing to lose…

…well, of course she had nothing to lose. She had Kyoya, didn't she?

I love him…because…no matter how cruel or cold he is, he always feels human…

There was something real about Kyoya that Tamaki found he couldn't explain. There were times that Kyoya felt blocked off, frozen…and yet there was always something so beautifully tragic about his character. Maybe the others didn't know it so well, but Tamaki had often found himself face to face with Kyoya's kindness. The time they'd first met…Kyoya'd been so…mean. Unnecessarily cruel. And yet when Tamaki had fallen, and when Tamaki crying…he'd helped him up. Kyoya reminded Tamaki of one of those anime characters trying desperately to be alone…yet finding their humanity staring them in the face.

I love how he always tries to care for people in that indirect way of his…

Kyoya was caring, no doubt. Tamaki had noticed that, throughout the years, Kyoya had always tried to take care of him. He'd always taken this for granted, but seeing Kyoya about to vanish from his life…Tamaki couldn't help but feel a little…depressed.

I love how he brushes his hair in the morning. How everything falls into place except those few hairs in the back. I love how he growls and tugs at his shoes if they won't fit. I love how he looks when he's sleeping, and he how laughs when he's awake. I love how he also tries to avoid eating cauliflower and pushes it to the side of the plate.

Just…the little things…

Amazing how much Hamaki had learned about Kyoya in the space of a few weeks. If someone had asked him about his favorite things about Kyoya…he'd have answered the same.

It's…just the little things…and somehow…just watching over someone like him…makes me feel special…

That was true. It wasn't so much about who Kyoya was, or what Kyoya did, or how Kyoya did them…but what Tamaki had always liked about Kyoya was the fact that he was…Kyoya. In that single word, Tamaki could imagine over a hundred different memories…just little things. The time when Kyoya had gotten a B in English. The time when Tamaki met his first girl. The time when both of their families were having a business deal and they weren't allowed to speak to each other for days. Time and time again, Tamaki found that…well, more and more, he was starting to rely on Kyoya for…




Kyoya had always been there, protecting him in that quiet way of his, always shielding Tamaki from the harsh realities of real life. Kyoya had always arranged things, changed things, made sure to stick around if Tamaki was in a lot of pain. Kyoya didn't do that for a lot of people, and that made Tamaki feel…special. Loved. Beautiful.

Kyoya had always acted as if Tama could do things on his own. That time when Tamaki had wanted to ask that girl out, Kyoya had scoffed and said, "Of course she'd go out with you. She has everything to gain." Kyoya had never doubted that Tamaki was a unique person…and Tamaki was grateful for that.

How—how was he going to let him go? This engagement was not just the issue of marriage, oh no. It was the issue of Eternal Separation of Two Great and Inseparable Friends. If Kyoya got married…the world would tilt on its axis. The cosmological balance of the universe would be misaligned. The sun would implode and become a black hole. Tamaki…Tamaki couldn't let Kyoya go because Tamaki love—

—whoa. Backtrack.

He and Kyoya were…like fire and water. Coffee and cream. The sky and earth. The comedy and the tragedy. They were the Yes and the No, the pencil and the eraser. They were the honey and the beehive, the wax and the candlestick. There were times when Tamaki felt so miserable he could hardly breathe, and Kyoya had always acted as his inhaler. They were—

—wait a minute.

That sounded familiar.

Where had he heard it before…?

Sometimes I feel so miserable I can hardly breathe…

Tamaki gasped as he finally understood something.

Come to think of it, it all made sense like this! Why hadn't Tamaki realized it before?

Of course…no wonder…




VIII. Toccata

That was it. Tamaki wasn't going to stand for this kind of humiliation. Who cared if the girl might actually make Kyoya happy? It wasn't her choice to make.

The two were signing the agreement today…

…what time?

Dammit, Tamaki forgot…

No matter. He'd get there, and stop him.

Kyoya was his, DAMMIT!


IX. Interlude

"Hey Hikaru, Kaoru!"


"Where is everybody?"


"No, I mean…where are all the Host Club members?"

"Well, Tamaki's in his funk…"

"—home funk, that is. I believe this is his first homemade funk ever."

"Yes, I believe so, brother-darling."

"…and Kyoya's signing his engagement, that I know…"

"Yeah, getting engaged to that hot blonde gal…"

"Hey Hikaru, Kaoru? Does Hamaki…remind you of anyone?"


"Well, she sort of looks like our aunt, I guess…why do you ask?"

"…never mind."

"Moving on, then. And I believe those moaning noises coming from the curtains are Hunny and Mori."


"Oh come on, Haruhi. I rather like that shade of fabric!"

"…that's not what I meant…"

"Then what did you mean?"

"…never mind."


X. Cresendo

Tamaki cursed, wishing that the taxi would go just a little bit faster. What was wrong with the driver anyway? Couldn't he see that Tamaki wasn't in a hurry?

"Could you speed it up, SIR? I REALLY REALLY NEED TO GET THERE!"

The driver snarled, "Alright, alright, sonny—keep your pants up! We're here."

Throwing a hundred-yen bill into the driver's face, Tamaki dashed out of the car, hoping against hope that he wasn't too late. In his hurry, he bumped into someone, someone that he ended up pushing onto the ground.

"Ouch! Excuse me, sir, where are you going?" Tamaki's eyes widened at the familiar voice.


Kyoya growled a little as he tried to brush the dust off his business suit. "Tamaki? I should have known only an idiot like you could completely disregard others in your hurry to advance your own state of being."

"Kyoya? Are you—" Tamaki was afraid to ask the fateful question.

Kyoya shook his head a little, "Do you think it's unlucky to be injured after signing a marriage contract? Oh well, can't say I'm disappointed."

As Tamaki watched the indifferent look on Kyoya's face, he felt his heart sink into his chest, prior excitement and exhilaration vanished. He felt rather like a deflated balloon…sad…and breathless.

"O-Oh? So…it's done, then?"

Kyoya nodded, "Yes. The arrangement has been settled."

XI. Doloroso

The feeling of rejection is not a pleasant one. In fact, one could almost say that it is a very unpleasant one. Tamaki's own personal experience with rejection was pretty much limited to the deprivation of a chocolate chip cookie, or not being allowed to buy that toy he really wanted. Tamaki had never, ever been rejected in love, however, and decided that being thus could very well be the most painful experience he'd ever have. Of course, Kyoya hadn't really rejected him, but getting engaged to another person was the equivalent of rejection in Tamaki's eyes.

A wave of nausea spread throughout Tamaki's body, causing him to buckle down and cough into the ground. It wasn't long before he felt Kyoya's arms pulling him up again.

"Tamaki? Are you okay?"

Tamaki looked up, and seeing Kyoya's expression—that same, dark expression he always wore. Confidence laced with a touch of sadism. A smile, a smirk, and a worried frown all in the same. Hair neatly brushed in the front, yet pricking up in the back from the toils of the day. Glasses neat, clean, yet crooked, and what reflected off the impeccable glass was not hatred or apathy.

It was concern. Concern and something else. Tamaki couldn't tell.


At that moment, Tamaki felt himself break down. Ha ha…he had nothing to lose, right? If he wasn't going to have Kyoya in the first place, why not put himself on the line? He didn't come this far to fail…he was fighting! Screw the fact it was a losing battle! Suou Tamaki wouldn't let go without a fight!

"Kyoya, I…"


He took a deep breath, punched Kyoya in the face, and started his rant.


Monologue Impromptu (Courtesy of Suou Tamaki)

Are you kidding me!

Kyoya, you asshole, you don't decide things that quickly! You could have waited for me, y'know! Waited for me to come to my senses.

Okay, I realize this may come as a shock, but I've come to the conclusion that I might be gay. The hell? Yes, I know. Don't write it in that notebook of yours—I'll deny it tomorrow morning. Must be something wrong with commoners' fever medication—I feel so dizzy the words are just punching themselves out of me.

Not only might I be gay, but I like you. As in, like like you. Oh, screw it, I love you. This may be even more of a shock to you—I know. After all, there's been no indication of this, no warnings, no preparation, nada. I've only recently come to this conclusion after all—I've loved you for an unbelievable two whole hours now, and I don't think I'm gonna turn straight in the next minute or two.

Why am I talking so fast? I don't know. I can't believe I like you. I'd rather be with Haruhi. You know why? Because Haruhi at least has the decency not to go running off and getting engaged within the space of two weeks—hear that? Common decency. You don't even pretend to have it, do you?

I never wanted you to get engaged in the first place. All those random situations with Hamaki? All my—wait, nevermind.

Kyoya? KYOYA. Are you even listening to me?

You know what? I'm just going to say this: Damn you, Ootori Kyoya. Damn you for being such a smug bastard! Damn you for getting engaged! Damn you for living, breathing, eating, and writing in that damn notepad of yours! Put it down, I tell you, I'm in no mood for this crap!

But most of all, Kyoya, damn you for being the only person who's family to me. Hear that? You're family. Damn you for letting me on, letting me like you, love you. Damn you for not pushing me away. And most of all, damn you for not shooting me, Kyoya, before I could go on in this little monologue of mine, because I really wish I were dead right now.

Damn you, Kyoya.

…damn you.


XII. Espirando

Silence hung through the air, threatening to suffocate him. Tamaki stopped, panting for breath, staring at Kyoya and looking for some kind of reaction. Anything that could make his heart. Or break it. He didn't care.

Kyoya finished the last few sentences in his clipboard, and tucked the pen neatly behind his ear.


With that, Kyoya turned and started walking back towards the parking lot, where his chauffeur was waiting.

Tamaki gaped. Wonderful?

"Wait, Kyoya!"

Kyoya turned, "Yes?"

"Well…" Tamaki stared, "Uh…aren't you going to say anything?"

"What is there to say?"


"Why should I say it? Is there a need? Anyways, it's all settled."

So that was it, huh? Tamaki really had been rejected. Rejected by a cruel, cold-hearted bastard who didn't even bother to say farewell—

"Oh, by the way, Mrs. Ootori, our wedding will be held on Sunday, April 4 at a location that has yet to be determined. I'll call you then, okay?"

—stupid, idiotic JERK who "SAY WHAT!"

Tamaki leapt to his feet, and with three long strides grabbed Kyoya, resisted the urge to punch him again, and shook him, "WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?"

Kyoya rolled his eyes, "Our wedding, idiot."

Tamaki couldn't believe it. "WEDDING!"

"Well, since we already have the prenuptial signed—"


"The prenuptials stating that you will become my lawfully wedded and grant me half of your family's estates. What else?" Kyoya smirked.

"I thought that was Hamak—"

"Wuou Hamaki is a pseudonym used by a long lost cousin of yours whose name is Suou Minako. Seeing as you did not make the appointment, she kindly agreed to sign the contract in your stead."


"Section 12, Clause 56 of the Bastard's Guide to Marriages states that—"

"Then the fiancé thing…was…"

"Oh, that. I was bored one day, and since you obviously weren't going to confess without due amount of provocation, I decided to give you a little push in the right direction."


"But now that that's all done and settled, you may relax. I've hired the most eminent dressmaker—she has a lavender dress that would most suit your eyes—"

"But Kyoya…"


"You…haven't even said you love me."

"Of course I haven't. Do I need to?"

Tamaki's eyes narrowed dangerously, his entire face contorting into a devilish sinisterness that would frighten Satan himself.

"Kyoya…?" Tamaki smiled, sinister, angry glint in his eye.



"I love you."


"I love you. Alright? I've said it twice now…you ought to grant me both halves of your inheritance for this price."






XIII. Recapitulation

It was a beautiful day in Ouran Koukou. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and even through the smog-induced fog, one could make out the sun. Haruhi was sitting on a sofa sipping tea and ignoring the noisy crowd around her. The last of the customers were leaving, and she could finally drop this charade and act feminine again.

Not that she knew how. It was a nice thought though, while it lasted.

The twins were sitting on the couch, laughing amongst themselves and making ridiculous hand gestures. Mori was feeding Hunny pie. Strangely enough, Kyoya and Tamaki were nowhere to be seen. Haruhi hadn't seen them since yesterday, a sure sign that Kyoya was plotting something, something that probably involved Tamaki. Haruhi hoped it wouldn't be as bad as Hamaki/closet fiasco.

Speak of the devil.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen." Kyoya, wearing a full tuxedo and tie, stepped in the Host Club with grace reminiscent of King Hammurabi. Or a very smug bastard. Depends on how you look at it.



Kyoya smiled, that entirely-too-innocent Devil's smile he was so fond of. "You heard me."

Host Club members stared, "…how…how…WHAT!"

Kyoya smirked, "No, I don't think you're dreaming…"

"Kaoru, I think my ears are bleeding. Did you hear that?"

"You mean that horrific line about engagement with the words Kyoya and Tamaki?"

"Yeah, that. Damn…"



"Wait, so Tamaki's the girl? But I thought Kyoya was Mom…"



"…Mom tops?"



"…I don't want to know."

"As punishment for his days of absence from the Host Club, Tamaki would now like to model his wedding dress for you."


The last thing Haruhi remembered was a flash of lavender and the words: "DAMMIT KYOYA, I AM NOT A FUCKIN GIRL!"

She fainted.


Much of what Hamaki says are quotes taken directly from Tamaki in Vol. 1 of Host Club.

Thank you, deformedcookie (lj user! You totally saved me on this fic, you awesome beta!)

If you really want the definitions to all the musical terms I titled the sections, ask me. I just had my piano theory test…could you tell? .