Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Host Club…my imagination isn't that cracktastic.
Spoilers through manga volume 3 or anime episode 10.
Tamaki Suoh had had a fairly normal day.
Antoinette had woken him up from a dream about the commoner's ramen (pork flavored, his recent favorite), he had endured an etiquette lesson with Shima (and by endure, he simply meant that he had half gone through the activities and lessons she had set out and daydreamed through the rest…), and he had practiced the piano for a good portion of the day (perhaps the only activity he could stay almost entirely serious during for a long duration…or a duration of any sort, for that matter).
He did not have any music, because he had mastered this particular piece long ago.
Beethoven's Piano Sonata No. 14 in C sharp minor.
A piece known by the commoner's as "Moonlight Sonata."
While not an incredibly difficult piece for a pianist of his caliber, it always left him with a feeling of nostalgia. His fingers shaped the melodic contours of the piece from memory, allowing his mind to wander.
Weather like this always brought him back to playing this song…the simple melody accompanied by the cascading chords seemed to somehow lighten the dark, ominous clouds just beyond the heavy curtains.
Summertime in Japan was always humid and sticky and also had the ever-present threat of thunderstorms. While he saw members of the Host Club occasionally during the break from school, he was mostly left to his own devices (unfortunately these lacked any means by which he could obtain ramen…which was most likely the cause of him dreaming so often about it). His eyes glanced up from the ivory keys to the window.
The sky seemed to be darkening considerably in the last hour or so that he sat there, flitting through Mozart, Rachmaninoff, Debussy, Fauré, and finally Beethoven.
Thunderstorms, of course, inevitably reminded him of Haruhi.
Remembering her pulling on his shirt and then crashing into him caused him to speed up the tempo quite a bit (to vivace to be precise).
A maid popped her head in quizzically, but Tamaki, although being a bit more animated as compared to the demeanor he usually adopted (pretty much solely) for playing the piano, he did not seem as if he would randomly go into one of his moods.
She scuttled away and Tamaki was alone with Beethoven once again.
Coming to the end of the last movement he heard the thunder begin to rumble outside. His fingers paused at the end of a particularly awkward phrase…leaving the group of maids outside (being rather peculiar servants they often congregated outside of the music room and engaged in very slowly and deliberately polishing the expensive wood of the floor directly in front of the music room). Suddenly the door, which until that very moment had remained discreetly ajar, flew open, scattering the entire group of maids in every which direction.
Tamaki looked down at the multiple heaps of black and white figures with a horrified and confused expression. Shima, unfortunately, had just turned the corner and had witnessed the entire unfortunate occurrence. Seeing the carnage her young charge had caused yet again, she shook her head slowly.
"Tamaki-sama," she said with a weary sigh, "surely I don't need to explain to you what sort of decorum a gentlemen would have had to avoid such a…mess."
She feared for a second that he would go hide in the corner as was his custom. Perhaps he would have if another peal of thunder hadn't sounded at that exact moment.
To Shima's surprise he was suddenly in front of her saying, "I will compensate them at a later date, however, at the moment it is of the utmost importance that you send a car around for me."
Shima gave a significant look to the maids, who were by now helping one another up and dusting themselves off while throwing murderous looks at Tamaki's back (from then on, the floor would be mysteriously well polished at a small distance away from the music room itself).
Shaking her head she motioned for him to go. When he was in one of those moods, nothing would stop him from doing what he pleased. To avoid more casualties of her household staff she thought it was wisest merely to let him go.
The matter (and she very purposefully committed the chaotic scene in front of her to memory) would certainly be addressed at a great length in his next etiquette lesson.
But Tamaki had promised her.
Just before he had left he had called Kyouya. He was half hoping that he would come with him, however, he told him he had a familial engagement that it would be impossible for him to leave.
As usual, however, the vice president did have some particularly good data from him.
Ranka was on a business trip and Haruhi was indeed at her home alone.
Kyouya had tried to tell him something else, but Tamaki was in too much of a hurry to talk any longer. He would have to apologize to his friend later, as well.
He had promised Haruhi.
He had promised her that she didn't have to be alone at times like this…that he would watch over her.
Tamaki silently cursed himself for not having left sooner. He could have been waiting outside of her house when the thunder started so that he would simply have had to rush in, scoop her up in his arms, and whisper, "I promised you that I would protect you forever."
Once again checking his surroundings to see how close he was to the Fujioka household, Tamaki made a mental note to apologize to her for not coming sooner and not planning ahead.
Surely she would appreciate the gesture, even if it was not his ideal situation.
The commoners had begun to stare at his car, so he knew that he must be very close…and sure enough there was the community dwelling where she lived.
He ran up the stairs, barely pausing to give instructions to the chauffer.
Haruhi did not answer the door when he knocked and at that moment he was faced with a conundrum…a gentleman would not open the door to a lady's house without her permission…however, a gentleman also wouldn't leave a woman alone and cowering in fear.
His suave plan to come rescue Haruhi from the storm was swiftly failing.
(His indecision must have been rather noisy, because several neighbors looked out of their windows at him dancing about and whining "Haruhi!" before he finally decided to try the door.)
Reaching for the knob, Tamaki found that she hadn't locked it and went in, hastily removing his shoes and rushing the (very very short, in his own reckoning) distance into the living room, where she was crouched under the table, a blanket covering her head.
A momentary fear, not due in any way to the thunder, crossed her face as she looked towards the door. When she saw who it was, and more, heard his cry of, "I'm coming to rescue you, my cute daughter!" her expression changed to a mixture of relief and annoyance.
Another particularly loud blast of thunder, however, caused her to dive once again under the blanket.
When she looked back at him again, the annoyance had vanished.
Tamaki sat down on the floor a short distance from the table, the superficial daydream he had in mind fading with her annoyance.
"Tamaki-Senpai…" She managed to choke out before another rumble sent her sprawling.
He moved deliberately, putting his hand under her chin.
"I promised you, Haruhi."
"Senpai, I told you I didn't want you to-"
The rest of her protest was interrupted when a particularly loud and nasty bout of thunder made her squeak in fear. As the storm moved closer, the episodes were coming more frequently.
"Haruhi…Nobody wants to be alone if they can help it…even if you pretend you do."
He was slowly luring her out from beneath the table, one more rumble sent her sprawling into his shoulder, the blanket lying forgotten behind her.
"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."
Trying to regain a hint of her usual demeanor, she retorted, "I'm glad you didn't have the forethought to wait outside of my house. Stalking is illegal, Tamaki-Senpai."
Normally such a remark would lead him to languish in his corner of woe until some distraction made for a momentary change in his mood, but at that moment, he merely nodded seriously.
However, without warning the door banged open again.
Ranka, with his mascara running in tiny rivulets down his face due to the rain, walked in and saw his mortal enemy taking advantage of his precious daughter in her one moment of vulnerability.
However, Haruhi's father's entrance coincided exactly with the loudest racket that the storm had managed to make thus far and Haruhi was holding onto his jacket so tightly that he could not have moved even if fear hadn't paralyzed him.
Ranka had a strange glint in his eyes as he eyed Tamaki.
"It seems the large, ugly, bug has come back. To what do we owe the dishonor of your presence, rich boy?"
Tamaki was trying desperately to answer, but only incoherent syllables came out. Perhaps he should have let Kyouya finish after all…
Haruhi, however, looked at her father and stood up. Tamaki could see her jump in fright as the thunder rolled, but she still walked towards her father.
With her signature brusque honesty, she said, "He doesn't mean anything, he thought he had to keep a promise."
Ranka did not look particularly convinced.
"What kind of promise would that be?"
"To remain near me so that I wasn't alone."
Tamaki could see a very specific scene play out in Haruhi's father's head.
To remain near me so that I wasn't alone.
Of course this meant that he would spend lavish amounts of money on a private force of ninjas to watch Haruhi's every move. Perhaps these same ninjas would go about installing a network of clandestine security cameras. This would also give Tamaki an opening to secure anything he wanted at whatever time from his cute daughter!
It was as if a giant, red sign with the label "STALKER" on it had already been permanently tattooed on Tamaki's forehead in his eyes.
Surprisingly, for the second time in their brief acquaintance, Tamaki bowed very deeply before him.
"I apologize if I have offended you, Fujioka-san, however, I will continue to care for your daughter as if she was my own in times like these."
Ranka sighed. Perhaps this boy was a complete idiot after all. He did not like how he was approaching his daughter at all – it was so erratically unpredictable that it might, by some insane fluke, actually work.
The boy had turned to leave, Ranka, however (much he might dislike him), realized that he was serious in his intentions, however badly he botched them time and again.
Indeed, there were two things in life that Tamaki Suoh took seriously: the piano and Fujioka Haruhi.
A/N: Tamaki interests me simply because on the one hand he's completely insane and yet capable of taking a few selective things seriously. The entire staff of the Suoh Mansion #2 is rather fun to write as well…I almost want to write an entire fic about Antoinette…Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this. Thank you for reading!