Enter the Host Club
(bows) I betrayed my own empty promises. Please forgive me. Never trust my deadlines I set for myself, for I never follow them.
Anyhow, I wrote an extra long chapter for you all to enjoy today! (apologetic smile) Wrote the first six hundred to one thousand words with much writer's block on mind, then forced myself to finish the rest yesterday afternoon. 'Tis hard on this one's soul... (oro's) At any rate, sit back and enjoy!
Disclaimer: Naruto and Ouran High School Host Club do not in any way belong to sessha. (Kenshin smile)
"What the hell was that all about?!"
Uchiha Sasuke was quite (emphasis on the 'quite') distraught, walking with a slight limp and wearing the patented Uchiha Death Glare of Doom that automatically gave the shivers to anyone who dared to look. His tie had been lost somewhere in the struggle, the seams of his blue Ouran blazer ripped at many spots, and buttons missing from his shirt.
"Maa, maa, Uchiha-kun!" reassured Tamaki in a not-so-reassuring way. "It is quite obvious that you have the charisma and the charm to woo your lovely ladies! Why not harness that wonderful talent and become a exclusive member of our host club?" He was bouncing up and down in a highly juvenile way, the calm Ootori Kyouya at his side.
Sakura looked very pleased about something, and Naruto (covered with mottled purple bruises and a slight lisp in his speech due to a couple missing teeth) looked highly annoyed.
"No frickin' way!" he screeched, looking every bit as pissed as when the Uchiha had conned him into paying for his, Sakura's, Shikamaru's and the entire Rookie Nine's ramen at the Ichiraku Noodle Stand a few weeks ago. His dear Froggy-chan had barely survived that incident. "That bastard's getting more girls than me! And he doesn't even wanna do this!"
"As if I wanted to in the first place!" his teammate shot back furiously as another group of giggling girls proceeded to swoon as soon as they caught sight of light striking his dark chicken-cut hair. "If you want them, be my guest!"
Before Sakura could administer her rather violent method of group therapy on the pair of them, Kyouya wisely butt in.
"If I may," he said, very rationally. "Uchiha-san, I understand perfectly the uncomfortable pressure that you dislike experiencing. But will you not overlook your grudge in face of the better good?"
"Eh?" Sasuke stared at the Shadow King as if he were nuts and needed to be confined to a padded room in Morino Ibiki's interrogation chambers for those who had cracked under his brutal methods. Yes, that demonic spark in his eye was not normal... the lighting of the hallways, however bright it was, could never make the membrane of the outer eyeball glow in such an eerie and forboding way...
And then Kyouya proceeded to nail the unfortunate shinobi with a full blast of his patented Ohtori Spectacle Gleam of Doom. The effects were instantaneous.
"What I mean, Uchiha-san, is quite simple to comprehend. It is not Suou Tamaki alone who holds your precious contract, but the entire Host Club. This mission, as you call it, does not currently have a difficulty level. This is, of course, subject to change and will determine the amount of profit that will be sent to your village in return for your services. Your mission is to make sure that we, as the Host Club, attract as many customers as we can during the course of your stay while also ensuring that during our current project, no harm comes to any of us. Thus, you must do all you can to aid the club in any way."
"And fortunately, becoming temporary host club members is profitable toward you as well," here he gave a little smile that screamed evil to the traumatized Uchiha. "From what data I have gathered, your current Godaime would be quite displeased if any of you three denied her the second command to quote-unquote 'suck out every drop of money' that we offered, ne?"
The temperature in the hallway suddenly dropped several degrees as Team Seven alternated from gaping in shock at how in the world this civilian had obtained this classified information and shivering in fear of Tsunade-sama's legendary sannin wrath.
She most certainly wouldn't forgive them. Even the deadliest of nuke-nin must quake at the bloodlust that the Godaime of Konoha must emit if not supplied with her daily regiment of sake and additional cash for gambling. Not that she ever put the money to good use...
"Yeah, yeah, YEAH!" hollered a sweating Naruto, more than slightly unnerved at Kyouya's creepiness and the efficiency at which he had manipulated them. "Tsunade-baa-chan's gonna kill us if we don't get that money for her! We gotta work to live!"
Sakura, though still steaming inwardly, grudgingly had to agree. Although she would gladly punch Naruto to the oblivion beyond the many layers of Ouran's walls and then snatch his dear departing spirit back into his body and then do it all over again, she herself knew firsthand how terrifying her shishou could be without her sake...
A year ago...
"Tsunade-shishou," whispered a younger Haruno Sakura. The famed Godaime of Konohagakure did not stop drooling onto the pile of paperwork that served as her temporary pillow.
"Tsunade-shishou," repeated the girl, now slightly irritated. It was 9:30 a.m., exactly the time at which Sakura's daily training session was supposed to begin. But somehow, it never started until at least noontime. It was hard to say why the girl simply did not stay in bed until then. Perhaps it was the embarrassment that it was her shishou who was snoring loudly enough to interrupt classtime at the Academy down the street that made her feel it was her duty to attempt to wake up each morning. Or perhaps, she was just a glutton for punishment, which was hardly likely. You decide yourself, dear reader.
"Tsunade-shishou!" A loud whisper couldn't hurt, could it...?
Several things happened at once. One, Sakura suddenly found herself buried in the opposite wall of the Hokage's office, coughing her lungs out in all the dust. Two, she found an iron fist in her stomach and a sudden roil of smelly breath.
"Oh... it's just you, Sakura." With a crack, Tsunade-sama nonchalantly extracted her fist from her student's stomach, casually blowing off a thin covering of dust from the top of her knuckles. Meanwhile, Sakura gagged as blood leaked out of her mouth. Definitely some broken ribs there...
"Tsunade-shishou!" she groaned, trying to catch her breath as she hurriedly made a few hand seals. "Do you have to do that to me every morning?" She pressed her glowing chakra-laden hands to her aching abdomen, repairing her broken rib(s).
"It's not my fault that you keep insisting on waking me up!" the Godaime Hokage pouted, wiping the dried-off drool off of her face. "Besides, it's a good opportunity to practice your healing jutsu!" She suddenly paused, as if lost in thought.
"Wait a minute... I thought I bought a fresh jug last night..." With a look of the utmost horror upon her face, then woman fell upon her workplace and promptly began to tear it apart.
By now done healing herself, Sakura looked strangely at the woman she had come to respect flinging papers around the office like a human merry-go-round stuck on maximum speed. In all the mornings that she had come to wake her shishou up, she'd never seen her this worked up before.
"DAMMIT!" came the furious screech. "SOMEBODY STOLE MY SAKE!!!"
And so the lesson for the day was forsaken for jolly sake-thief hunting, which involved the demonstrations of many earth-cleaving jutsu (or in this case, building and head-cleaving jutsu), much abuse from Tsunade-sama's iron fists, and general insanity on behalf of that darned stolen jug of sake.
It turned out the thief was Konohamaru, who had thought it would be a funny prank if he stole Grandma Tsunade's beloved sake. The punishment waiting for him was too horrific to put into words, so please envision in your own heads, dear readers. At any rate, the world would not last very long if this were to happen again.
To someone who might somehow suddenly stumble into the path of Uchiha Sasuke at the moment (after getting over the initial shock of his sheer attractiveness), they might've thought he was, well, sentenced to be executed by being first tortured in excruciating ways, hanged, and then drawn and quartered. But unfortunately for the fangirls who go gaga for bishies in bondage, Ouran High School was not the place to be doing such. And it was not in England.
No, the verdict was that he was to serve as a temporary host in the school's infamous Host Club. And to him, that was more torturous than anything Morino Ibiki's famous interrogation skills could dish out.
The first step of the mission was to be enrolled into their client's homeroom. Year 2, class A. Simple enough, right?
The paperwork was taken care of by the Hokage, but somehow she'd forgotten about it until after the mission began. Luckily, the registration forms were handed in by one of Suou's many butlers just last night. Thanks to his father's influence and good timing, three 'foreign exchange students' had safetly been granted sanctuary under Ouran's prestigious roof. Now, it was time to see how the students would react...
Stepping into the classroom which served as their destination, the shinobi suddenly noticed a strange lull in the conversation as they entered the room along with Suou and Kyouya. Sasuke swore he heard a thud on the carpet as a girl swooned. Damn those fangirls.
The teacher of the class, a tall middle-aged man with a prestigiously curling goatee, seemed at a loss for words. But Ootori Kyouya missed not a beat, and casually asked him what the matter was.
The sensei quickly stopped staring in horror at Sakura's bubblegum-pink hair, Naruto's un-Japanese blonde-ness, and Sasuke's ripped uniform and strangely absent tie, and cleared his throat.
"Attention!" As if he needed to say that. "These three students are to be your classmates from today onward. They are foreign exchange students from..." here he looked toward his informational page for help, "... Konoha Academy."
Masking his disapproval with a pained smile, he asked them to introduce themselves. Naruto quickly stole the limelight.
"Oi, oi! I'm Uzumaki Naruto, and I like ramen, Sakura-chan, and that bastard, I guess." He gestured wildly toward Sasuke. "My goal is to work hard at everything I do, and to become Ho-"
He was then punched loudly on the head by Sakura, who in turn giggled nervously. "Oh, my, Naruto-kun! You must mean prime minister, right?" Everyone sweatdropped.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah!" came Naruto's slightly muffled answer as he lay on the ground with his bottom in the air. "Prime Minister, that's it!"
The pink-haired girl then attempted to cover up her violent streak with a thick layer of sweetness. "Nice to meet you! My name is Haruno Sakura, and please excuse my two friends. I like to read, practice martial arts, and spend time with my friends." Here she fluttered her eyelashes mock-coyly in Naruto and Sasuke's direction.
Sasuke groaned, elicting a chorus of fangirl squeals. "I'm Uchiha Sasuke. I like soba and martial arts, and I dislike annoying people and traitors." He continued to glare at the people in the room, as if daring them to even try to irritate him. Unfortunately, the girls didn't get the message and only started squealing louder as soon as the charm of his few and mysterious words worked its magic.
Before the irate teacher had time to escort his three new students to their seats, Tamaki stepped in front with a flourish of roses and sparkling powder.
"Ah, beautiful ladies! As many of you may already know, these two lads are to be taken under my protective wing as the new members of the Host Club! I beg of you, come in due time and let them open up their youthful hearts to your loveliness!"
Thus, after much noisiness and girly screams, Team Seven finally settled into their seats and prepared for a day of boring lessons.
By lunchtime, they were wondering what in the world they were supposed to be doing on this mission.
"Tsunade-shishou's briefing sheet said that we were to assist Suou and his club in all their ventures," muttered Sakura as she selected a random entree from a line of gourmet dishes in the school's lunch line.
Sasuke only twitched in response. He didn't even want to think about what Suou's 'ventures' might be. Maybe a boating party? Teatime twelve hours a day? Video game cosplays?
Naruto had tuned everyone out a long time ago, having been salivating into his napkin as he stared at the rows upon rows of hot, delicious food.
Presently, the shinobi joined the Suou, Fujioka, and the Hitachiin twins at their table when the King most politely demanded them there this instant. They wondered what the Enma he was going to talk about. Sinking stomachs struck the unfortunate youths.
"Forgive me of not informing you earlier, but I was just too excited by your arrivals!" Suou told them, practically bouncing up and down with anticipation. The twins and Fujioka ignored him as they fought among themselves.
"And... that might be...?" asked Sasuke sarcastically.
"A play! A play! A play, a play, a play!" A clapping of hands in a childish manner.
This caught the attention of the twins, who had by now quit stealing the irate Fujioka's food and wore identical doubtful expressions. "Tono," they said in perfect unison, "you aren't trying to copy the Zuka Club, are you? Because remember what we did last time?"
Fujioka choked on his drink in a badly-made attempt to hide a loud snort.
Tamaki looked scandalized. "Absolutely no!" Noticing the younger boy's sputtering, he immediately captured Fujioka in a headlock and started weeping while he spoke. "For shame, Hikaru, Kaoru! Just look here at our poor daughter, about to die of asphyxiation, as a dreadful consequence of what transpired last time! Haruhi! Daddy's here! Please don't die on us!"
"I'm dying because you're choking me!" came the angry reply. "Get yer hands off of me!"
"A play?!" A bouncing ball of fluffy blond hair had bounded up to their table, its tall dark shadow only a few feet behind. "Tama-chan, you're gonna put on a play?" Before Suou could soak up all his tears with a daintily embroidered handkerchief, Haninozuka Mitsukuni had smothered him with a bunny-hug. "You're the best, Tama-chan!!"
"A play?" Naruto had actually stopped stuffing his face with food for at least a few seconds, his mouth miraculously only half-full of food. "Anou sa, Suou-san! We're gonna have a play? Am I gonna be in it? What play is it?"
"Ah, I knew that all you beautiful youths would be delighted with my proposition!" exclaimed Tamaki as soon as Mori-senpai had pried his small friend off the King's face. "Fear not! All of the members of the Host Club will have a part, with no exceptions!"
Fujioka blinked up at his senpai curiously. "So, what's the play going to be?"
"Snow White and the Seven Dwarves! Or, by its alternate title... Princess Haruhi and the Eight Handsome Princes!"
... you can all imagine what the peoples' faces would look like after this announcement, can't you? I had this in mind since I started the fic D Based on the summary... yes, there is a financial group trying to take over Ouran; it will come with time.
And now my mom's mad cuz I can't time anything for crap and would've burned my cooking if she hadn't turned the burner off in time (and because I accidently turned on the wrong burner at the beginning), so bye, and please review!