Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club, or any other referenced animes.
AN: As a reminder, this is Yaoiiii. TamaHaru only exists as much as it existed in the anime. The school year has just begun: the Host Club hasn't formed yet, and Kyoya hasn't been summoned yet. Any other pairings will be served as a light side dish - the primary pairing is KyoTama!
Ch. 1: This is our Ouran AU!
The mushrooms were beginning to take over. Mounds of mushrooms were rooted between his fingers, and twined into his hair. It was time to take action; the situation was becoming completely unmanageable. Tamaki's face contorted as he attempted to regain his typical, beautiful countenance. Pop. There.
Once again his radiant self, Tamaki shone so brightly that beams of light parted the mushroom forest he'd cultivated. Giving his trademark flick of the hair combined with a few sparkles and a soft voice, he made his way through the slightly bemused, but thoroughly enthralled student population, and into Music Room #3. He needed a place to sort out his thoughts. Today, he'd met a girl named Haruhi, who seemed to be completely immune to his charms. And to top it off, no one seemed willing to join his Host Club!
He noticed a few mushrooms starting to sprout on his sleeves, and the room starting to close in. Shaking it off, he tried to focus on the positive. He was pretty sure that Hani would cave soon. He'd been tempting the boy with sweets for the past week, and Hani was starting to space out longer in a delirium of desire every time he mentioned cake. And Mori would follow Hani, he was sure of it. Actually, Hani would be billed as Honey in his club, to maximize the adorable factor. He'd also teach him how to create little fluffy pink things out of the space around him; making things appear out of thin air was his specialty, after all, even though he preferred to make flowers to please the ladies. His cultivation of mushrooms was an extension of the same ability, only not as intentional.
But back to the problem: Haruhi. He'd seen her the other day, dressed in horrifyingly drab and shapeless clothing, but instantly identified her. All that stupidity he displayed came in handy sometimes though, and he pretended that he had no idea that she was a commone- scholarship student, or even female, as he approached her.
"Hell-o, new student! Welcome to the Ouran School - of beauty!" Glancing sideways at her, he produced twice as many roses as he would normally, and waited in anticipation for her response.
Haruhi's eyes widened beneath her glasses. She really was adorable under that horribly unkempt mop of hair, and the dreadfully unfashionable spectacles. A lunatic was standing before her, producing an unreasonable amount of radiance. "Um, thanks, but I'm looking for Ouran Academy." She continued before Tamaki could correct her. "Excuse me, but I'm going to be late to register." Scooting around the dumbstruck prince, the honor student continued on her way.
Just remembering it was enough to cause a few more mushrooms to sprout from Tamaki's tie. She was the one! He was sure of it. No one had ever been able to see past his devastating beauty to the person within. She was the complete opposite of the superficial princesses that he had been spending his time with, and he was going to be her prince charming! It was more than love, it was love love!
But after a week, he still hadn't managed to get close to her. After all, she was in a lower class, and his time didn't naturally overlap with hers at all, unlike those troublesome twins who wouldn't join his Host Club. If only he could contrive a way to force her to spend time with a bunch of rich, beautiful boys with too much time on their hands!
Putting forth a supreme effort to dispel the growing gloom, he looked around for a distraction. Had that door always been there? It seemed to be calling to him, in a low, spooky voice. Taamakii. Taaaamakiiii. Not one to refuse anyone, no matter how spooky, he headed into the unlit room, until he saw a puppet cat, spotlit in the surrounding darkness.
"Taamakii. Welcome to the Black Magiiic Cluuub. How can I help you today?"
"Nekozawa? Is that you? I haven't seen you since middle school! Is this what you're doing now?" Tamaki looked around enthusiastically until a hooded figure finally sighed, and stepped into the light. "There you are! You have to help me! You don't know how hard it's been without anyone to talk to, or plot with!"
Not willing to give up on his persona quite yet, Nekozawa tried again. "Taaamak-"
"Aw, knock it off, Neko! You know, you could join my club that-I'm-starting-and-be-the-cree-" The stream of words stopped as Tamaki suddenly clutched his head in reaction. "You threw a book at me! A big one! Ow..."
Nekozawa exhaled resignedly. "It contains everything you need. Just take it and go. But remember, now you owe me. Don't ruin my act next time!" The lights went out.
- - -Later that night, at the Suoh estate- - -
Tamaki finally reached his room. He plunked down on his bed, and reached into his bookbag, retrieving the gilded volume that had dented his skull earlier. The answer to all his problems...
Well, it seemed fairly simple. All he had to do was draw this 'transmutation circle' thing, in a nice big open space (he had plenty of those), and then clap his hands and touch the circle. No equivalent exchange necessary. Wait, under ingredients needed: chalk. What was chalk? He rang for a maid.
"Yes, Master Tamaki?"
"Um, chalk... I mean, I'd like one chalk, please, do you think you could make or find me one?"
Hiding her amusement unsuccessfully, the maid snorted. "I'll bring you one, Master Tamaki. Chalk was used in classrooms before the widespread use of dry erase markers, so it's not exactly an arcane item." In less than a minute, Tamaki was in possession of the white stick.
Ah, so this was chalk. And that was a circle. Preparations complete, Tamaki took a deep breath, raised his hands, and clapped. The circle glowed. How pretty, Tamaki thought.
AN: Please review! You don't have to say much, and I'd love to hear from you if you enjoyed it or something.