An Ouran High School Host Club Ficlet

Written by Miyu, Vampire Princess

AUTHOR'S NOTES: A short ficlet because my muses needed to focus on something other than Naruto. And I've happily immersed myself in the anime (finally). WARNING: potential spoilers for those who haven't read chapter 63 and higher of the manga. Tamaki x Haruhi centric with a special guest appearance from another fandom. Characters are also older than in the series. A Standard Disclaimer appears at the end of the story.


'Can you see this from heaven, mom?'

"It's the wrong color!"

"You asked for lavender, my lady."

"I asked for lilac. LILAC! There's a difference."

"Shouldn't you be more concerned with getting dressed, Renge-kun?"

"And you! You're hair's a mess!"

"And you paid for it!" A sigh. "Just get dressed."

"Some Maid of Honor you are, A-chan."

An unfeminine growl. "Don't call me that."

'This chaos....'

"Don't mind them, Haru-chan. It'll all be just fine."

Haruhi Fujioka smiled as her friend, Juni, put the finishing touches on the young woman's hair. Several hair pins, and voila! A French twist and bun that any hairdresser would be jealous of.

"It's gorgeous. Thanks, Jun."

"No problem. I'll let you finish up."

"You switched dresses on me, didn't you, A-chan?"

"Mine is supposed to be different, Renge."

"I swear--AH!" "Hey!"

"Quiet down, you two." Juni stood with her hands on her hips. At only five foot two, the young woman looked like an angry child. Yet she felt like the most mature one there. "It's Haruhi's day. You can complain all you like when it's your special day."

Haruhi sighed. When she had planned this day, she hadn't expected two of her best friends to argue with each other. Of course, she had asked for Renge's help, which may have been the initial cause. Renge had taken over completely as plans became final and poor A-chan, her friend Adilene, couldn't even do her duties as the primary party planner.

'Can you see this, mom?'

They'd been arguing ever since.

'Am I doing the right thing?'

The noise of the room dimmed as Haruhi became lost in her own thoughts. It had been a long five years. Five years since the day Tamaki Suoh had proposed to her. Apparently it had taken him months to get up the courage and over a year to find the right ring!

The night he proposed had been beautifully planned. By Kyoya Ohtori. The script had been heartwarming. Written by Honey-sempai and Mori-sempai. The wardrobe was also carefully coordinated. To the color. And designed specifically by the Hitachiin twins, Kaoru and Hikaru. Renge had even thrown in by making the reservation at the restaurant. Again, her favorite.

Actually, the old Ouran High School Host Club she had been a part of had planned everything. Every detail. Nothing was overlooked.

"Haruhi Fujioka?"

"Tamaki, what--?"

But the emotion, the desire, the joy, the love...the shocked expression on his face when she'd answered "yes"...that was all Tamaki.

Looking down at her left hand, she admired that engagement ring: a sterling silver band with a two karat diamond. It was still too much for her, but she had learned to live with the expensive things Tamaki often bestowed upon her.

With the exception of one thing.

Oddly out of place on that same hand was another ring. A thinly sliced piece of ootoro over rice. The thing was plastic, clearly a novelty. But Tamaki had spied it and thought of her.

"I bought one for myself, too. Cute, isn't it?"

"I have no idea what that means, Tamaki, but--"

"What? You don't like ootoro anymore? Did I make a mistake?"

Well, she did like ootoro.

His reasoning then had astounded her. Looking at the ring now, though, she understood. It made her heart sore, her lips turning upward into a smile. She wondered if he still had his.

Did it still mean as much to him as it now did to her?

"Oh! Haruhi! I almost forgot!"

Pulled away from her thoughts, Haruhi turned around as Renge emerged from the next room. In her right hand she carried a small, gold bag. If she recalled correctly, it was the name of a famous French jeweler. Renge's favorite. The young woman practically bounced over to Haruhi, extended the bag towards her.

"This is for you."

"We all pitched in."

Opening the bag, Haruhi gasped. Inside was a small jewelry box covered in black velvet. She looked at her friends before reaching into the bag. "You guys didn't have to get me anything," she said, setting the now empty bag aside.

"Yes, we did."

"Go on. Open it."

And she did. Inside was a beautiful stone pendant. Haruhi held her breath as she gently touched the stone. "It's beautiful."

"Oh! Let me put it on you," Renge exclaimed.

Adilene sighed and Haruhi smiled at her. As Juni patted Adilene's hand, Haruhi glanced at her left hand again. It was a small boost of confidence as she began to have second thoughts about the day. Her smile widened as she glanced at her friends.

"Thanks, guys. But...why?"

"You know," Adilene shrugged. "Something old...something new?"

"You do have something old, don't you," Juni asked.

Haruhi nodded as Renge finished clasping the necklace. She clasped her left hand to her chest, hoping her friends wouldn't notice the odd ring. "And something blue," she added, noticing the light blue tint to the stone pendant in a mirror.

"What about borrowed," Renge asked, horrified that something had been forgotten. "You have something borrowed, right?"

The girls all looked at each other.

"Well, she did borrow my lipstick," Juni answered.


"I'm sorry to interrupt, Ms. Houshakuji, but everyone's ready."

Renge practically bounced as she announced, "We're ready! Places everyone!"

The wedding party was small, per her request. But as Renge stepped from the porch and into the garden, Haruhi's heart plummeted into her stomach. Juni followed behind her and she was ready to vomit. And as her old college roommate, Adilene, took her cue, the bride was ready to turn and run.

But it was her father that gave her the encouragement she needed.

"I love you, Haruhi."

"Love you, too, dad." On tip toe, she gave her father -- wearing an actual tuxedo for the ceremony -- a kiss on the cheek.


She answered with a nod. "Ready."

'This is it, mom. Wish me luck.'

The walk seemed to take longer than it had in practice. But it was a beautiful procession through the garden at the Suoh family's mansion #2. The flowers were at the height of their bloom, the blossoms blowing wistfully in the wind as she walked by. But it was all a distraction. As she and her father entered the clearing, the music changed and the crowd that had gathered there all stood.

That's when she saw him. Her fianc–ė. Tamaki. Dressed in a white tux, he was like a shining beacon. Beside him, dressed in black tuxedos were his best man and best friend, Kyoya, followed by a college friend, a young man named Momiji Sohma. Haruhi didn't know him well, but he reminded her of Honey-sempai. Only taller.

His smile was wide and happy as he looked upon her. He hadn't hanged since high school. He was still goofy, still overly dramatic. But the maturity he'd gained by going to school overseas, taking odd job in his father's business to help him learn, he wasn't the Tamaki she knew. He was a new Tamaki, one she had grown to know and love.

As the procession drew to a close, Tamaki reached out for her hand. That's when she saw it. A ring. Looking strangely out of place on his left hand.

His ootoro ring.

He hadn't forgotten. In all this time.... It brought a bright smile to Haruhi's face. When he smiled back, her heart skipped a beat.

'Can you see this from heaven, mom? See him. Me. Us.'

Several clouds parted in the sky, allowing several large rays of light to shine down on the happy couple. And as the priest began the ceremony, they were enveloped in the light's warmth. A giant, warm hug from above.

Warm like a mother's love.


Ouran High School Host Club is a brilliant piece of work by creator Bisco Hatori. Originally published in 2003 by HAKUSENSHA, Inc., Tokyo, Japan, this masterpiece is being translated and published by VIZ Media for fans in America and Canada. I do not own a single piece of the characters used in this story. They were kidnapped and used here without permission.