Before
Recklessness took them all little by little. Tamaki's wünderplan was slowly falling apart because he hadn't considered the instincts of the five boys.

The twins were turning their suggestive brotherly love act into something else. Fingers were sucked instead of licked, lips were caressed and their eyes gleamed with true desire when their costumers blushed and fainted. The alarm rang into Kyouya's head the afternoon he watched them, good-boy haircuts and pure white jackets, cornering a customer between their bodies and touching her over the uniform, Hikaru nibbling her earlobe and Kaoru caressing the inside of her arms. She was trembling, lost in the middle of a not so romantic fantasy. The twins' hands crept up and down her body as they pushed the girl behind a curtain. She didn't complain, so Kyouya didn't interfere. Eventually her time was up and they had to let her go. She never came back. Kyouya made sure that they didn't overdo their little act again. He asked Hani to share his sweets with the Hitachiins.

Hani was eating too much cake. He swallowed every piece of it with a moan of pleasure that wasn't quite right. If cream or crumbles got into the skin of his designators, he'd lick it out with childish glee belied by the hunger in his eyes. Thankfully, Ouran girls had impeccable table manners and those occasions rarely occurred. Hani was able to keep his craving to luscious desserts most of the time and Kyouya provided him with enough treats to keep a kindergarten happy for a decade. Takashi Morinozuka, Hani's cousin and protector, quietly watched out for excessive sighs of pleasure.

At least when he was around. Mori had been training a lot more since the autumn came. He had too much self-control to let his hormones win him over in public like the others did. But too much exercise made Takashi sleepy, and his rare displays of affections were creepy in their own way.

And Tamaki... his make-believe act had become more and more real with every passing day. His words bloomed with infuriated romance and his designators were more in love with him than ever. Some of them wrote him letters and gave him sweets and flowers; others, not being able to withstand the sight of their One and Only flirting with ten girls every afternoon, decided to run away.

Kyouya was in charge of the vault and he saw the money run away with them.

He knew the reason. They had to entertain hundreds of girls every week, yet they couldn't put their hands on one. They knew that they were desired, and that probably inflamed their own wants more.

Telling them to get a girlfriend was out of the question. Ouran girls were uninteresting. Their uncomfortable, puffy and delicate uniforms showed that they were being trained to become wifes and socialites. Kyouya knew that they weren't particularly pure, but they cared about family honor and appearances, and they'd never allow their boyfriends to stay in the Host Club. And even if they did, the clients would cringe at the sight of a formal couple among them. They wouldn't feel special anymore.

Kyouya also pictured the kind of abuse that the twins could inflict upon their respective love interests. It gave him hives.

Tamaki had promised that it was going to be fun and they believed him. The five of them liked Tamaki, and that was probably the only reason be for four of them to stay.

Kyouya watched the boys become impatient while the thrill of the chase faded but their own energy remained, bottled, unused. All of them, even Tamaki, started to look out the window, down to the courtyard where the other students paced and chatted. It hadn't been a year since Tamaki talked Kyouya into the creation of the club. He disliked the idea of letting the club dissolve for a mere lack of female contact.

He tried not to look too much into the irony.

Springtime rolled in and they became quieter. The exams took all their attention. When they left for the short holidays that they had before the new term started, Kyouya had almost convinced himself that their calmer personalities were a proof of maturity.

Then, the new school year started. Kyouya greeted the Hitachiins in the high school section entrance hall. The new uniform suited the twins' flexible bodies. Their hair was longer and it stuck out in spikes. They didn't look like good boys anymore. Hani halted Kyouya before the bell rang to give him the flyer of a new bakery. He informed him that he wanted his pies to come from there from now on. When Kyouya googled it he found out that it was a bakery specialized in wedding cakes.

Tamaki made their new classroom an extension of the Host Club. He wooed and pampered every "princess" like she was the most precious flower. Ayame, the vice president of 2A, was the only one who seemed pissed about this flamboyance. That was bad. If he seduced the girls during the class hours, they would see no point in going to the Host Club quarters. Tamaki produced the 70 of the income. If his designators failed, the club would go to bankrupt. When Kyouya looked at the window, trying to ease his anguish, he saw Mori in the kendo courtyard, violently cutting off the heads of straw men. He hadn't even changed into the kendo clothes.

He decided to wait until the end of the day, after the first (and last) meeting of the Host Club to talk to Tamaki about its dissolution. It would be better to end it before tempers snapped, and each of them decided to part, probably with fights and bitter feelings. His eyes lingered in the nape of his fair-haired best friend, searching the exact wording, the nicest way of presenting to Tamaki the end of their association with the Hitachiins and their senpais.

He couldn't.

Every scenario ended up with a depressed Tamaki, and when Tamaki was down, there were dark clouds all over Tokyo. Kyouya was also disappointed with himself for not having foreseen the problems. For having to give up on something that was fun and bizarre, a crazy dream actually, and for believing in it in the first place. For failing at this project.

The shrewd businesman within whispered that he was using those feelings to procrastinate the moment of the confrontation.

And so, that afternoon, he found himself standing behind Tamaki's throne, with the twins at one side and his carefully organized notebook in his arms, and smiling without feeling it and watching the door of the third music room open.


Then


Haruhi stepped in. At first, Kyouya didn't consider her as the solution to the club's problems. Because she was a girl. Even if Tamaki took her for an ungroomed and dorky commoner boy, teased her, made her break a very expensive vase and then threw her into slavery. Kyouya loved his way of putting it. "If you don't have money, pay with your body". If only Tamaki had noticed it under the thick layer of wool and polyblend.

However, as he tossed one of the pieces of the broken vase in his hand, he thought that it could be fun to have a snobby, childish, spoiled and bratty Tamaki in front of a female student. He still couldn't understand how every single woman at Ouran fell for his –obviously- exaggerated chivalrous speeches and romantic manners. They never actually visualized the true Tamaki (the hyper, crazy, dumb idiot he was among his friends) and Kyouya often wondered whether they would blush and faint at his mere presence.

They wouldn't.

It wasn't that Haruhi was particularly perceptive. It was that they didn't bother to put a mask over their true forms around her uncombed commoner self.

And it was useful to have a caddy. No member of the Host Club liked to run errands.

Her first task was to buy coffee. She messed it up by purchasing a large quantity of Hescafé instead of the fragrant grains that Kyouya had specified. She stated that it was a waste of money, but that she would go back to the shop if they wanted. The resulting beverage was the same color as her messy hair and her oversized sweater. Kyouya wriggled his nose and refused to drink that thing, but observed how Tamaki pulled an act of courage in front of the customers. His ami added another item to the list of things the Host Club had to have in stock. If the girls took the instant coffee ceremony as some kind of exciting coming of age ritual, who was Kyouya to deny them this pleasure?

And if Tamaki was being childish and cruel with the special student, it didn't matter. At least that kept his expert fingers and his silver tongue away from the delicate hearts of the designators.

Then, Hani discovered Haruhi's secret when the girl didn't spit on his bunny like a male student would have done. About time. It had already been an hour. Kyouya looked at Hani's slightly concerned eyes and it occurred to him that maybe the others would lift her debt as an act of chivalry if they noticed her gender. Eight million yens weren't that much to them after all. Then, when Hani smiled and choosed the smallest piece of cake from the silver tray, and when he ate it looking at Haruhi all the time, no moaning, no sighing, only a kind, joyful, curious smile, Kyouya realized that that jester that had stepped into their room unannounced could be the antidote.

So he informed Haruhi of the inner workings of the Host Club and the different characters the twins, Mori, Hani and Tamaki represented for the girls and slid an implied menace within his own presentation. He smiled at the girl's terrified and perplexed eyes and welcomed his own polished and menacing figure reflected in her gigantic glasses. She was smart, and read between the lines. Satisfied, he diverted his attention to the customers and continued with the afternoon routine.

When Hikaru took out her glasses and saw her face, Kyouya paused his pacing and scribbling. Now it was when they all were going to notice her delicate features. Instead, Tamaki requested an immediate makeover for their newly promoted host colleague. Kyouya shrugged and called his hairstylist while Mori lent the girl some contacts and, voilà, in less than one hour Haruhi became a presentable human being. The hairstylist gave her a similar haircut to Kyouya's (the man had a great technique but not a lot of imagination), though Haruhi's, finer in texture and lighter, refused to stay in place as his did. The uniform they provided for her (another 300,000 yens to her debt) was a little bit too big. Kyouya cornered and questioned the twins about it. Host's clothes had to be fit and that was their responsability.Their mouths widened and watered.

"We thought that the special student may develop a little more... flesh... around her hips and thoracic cage," giggled the nicest twin.

"So we gave her some extra room for that."

"Oh. When did you notice those special needs?" Kyouya noticed the pink tint in Kaoru's cheeks and the sudden hesitation in Hikaru's movements.

"We walked in and we stripped her," confessed the later.

"We didn't't knew what we were going to see. We just wanted to take out that hideous sweater."

"So un-girly."

"So unlike anyone with self-respect."

"I see," and he saw, their cat eyes were full of mischief and fun and playfulness.

"Ha, I bet you don't see, senpai! She has a tiny waist and a long neck..." described Hikaru, as he cupped imaginary breasts in his own chest.

"I'm not that interested," but he noticed the small imaginary curves of the imaginary chest that Hikaru was imaginary fondling and smirked.

"Of course you aren't, everybody knows that you are a frigid who only likes what can be filed, but I'd bet my Chanel stocks that our lord would..." the twins motioned towards Tamaki in unison. "...love to know..." Kyouya waited. "...her cup size..."

When they noticed that their vice-president wasn't trying to stop them (hence cutting the fun) they turned around and pouted, and one leant into the shoulder of the other. Kyouya crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

"Please... you want to see his face when he discovers is as much as I do."

"Don't you care about your best friend's feelings?" asked one.

"Of course I do. He has yet to feel complete embarrassment."

"Evil mom," mumbled the rude twin.

"If you say a word, you'll have to pay the still-in-development commoner's debt."

The twins zipped their mouths' shut and shrugged, defeated. So much for the "frigid" commentary.

Hani approached them and offered them cake as a prize.

Kyouya turned to Tamaki, who was hugging Haruhi in a very un-alpha male way. Maybe he had smelled her pheromones or something like that, though his eyes insisted that what he had in front of him was a guy. How long until the clients started to wonder if Tamaki was gay? He scanned the room. Many eyes were fixed on the couple, most of them full of tears. Kyouya's gaze flicked to the only pair that wasn't't liking it at all. Tamaki's main designator wasn't't happy. Ayanokouji's knuckles were white and her lips were pursed in a very thin line. He wondered if the girl was jealous. Some of them got jealous after some time. Especially with Tamaki, for he was the only one that offered exclusiveness. Maybe she had hoped that he would eventually fall in love with her. Kyouya checked her profile on his notebook. She had stopped paying for his services before the finals, and requested to have an account opened. Kyouya recalled that he had obliged and pointed out that it would have to be payed at the end of the month. She had come every day since then until the holidays and she had stayed in the third music room for one hour, monopolizing Tamaki's time. Maybe the girl was fooling herself into believing that Tamaki loved her. In that case, opening an account would be her way of delaying the aknowledgement that she had to pay cold hard cash for the King's time.

Tamaki was clutching Haruhi to his chest and making her spin in a crazy ballet-like duet. The poor girl was red and embarrassed and asking for help at anyone that crossed her eyes while she spinned. Kyouya ignored her desperate mufflings because he was watching Ayanokouji's gray eyes turn darker, her pupils turn smaller and her hatred irradiate towards the rookie. She was about to snap when Mori lifted Haruhi into the air, detaching her from the asphyxiating arms of the dumb blond. Kyouya almost saw the lightbulb of realization litting up in the giant's face. No guy would have been that light unless he was anorexic. Mori didn't utter a word, but he kept her hanging in the air for some seconds, his eyes scrutinizing the soft angles of her head and her little feet swinging over the tea table.

Then, he put her in the floor and walked away. Hani had another piece of cake prepared for his cousin.

But Ayanokouji's face, though composed now, was still tense. A small vein was swelling along her temple.

Well, that girl's debt was due tomorrow in the afternoon. If she didn't pay it, then she would have to attain to the consequences. Kyouya watched her face again. There was something flaming in her eyes. She was pretty, but her eyes were wrecked. Dark grey and almond-shaped and cruel. When she turned to face Tamaki she slid a cold and courteous curtain over them. Kyouya mentally bowed at her art, though he noticed the minor fault of her vein still beating and trembling, and he thought that his own curtains were better.


The next day, Haruhi arrived to the club with a long cut in her index finger. Hani and Mori, who always carried around a first aid kit, provided oxygenated water and a pink band aid. Kyouya saw the tiny smile of Tamaki's client as she overheard the rookie. He feared that the bullying made Haruhi leave the club. The vice-president checked his watch. Ayanokouji still had a quarter of an hour to pay for her time with Tamaki.

Kyouya had finished his homework and he couldn't calculate the amount of money that the club had made that day until the day ended and the twins were finished destroying furniture and Hani was done with eating cakes. So he logged in into the Ouran's database. As a medical volunteer for the school, he had access to the student's addresses and phone numbers.

While Ayanokouji flirted up a storm with Tamaki, and Haruhi joked about how clumsy she was, leaving sharp blades inside her textbooks, with her own designators -just one day and three girls were already mooning over her- Kyouya researched Haruhi's data.

There wasn't much. Her e-mail address. A fix phone number. Her home address. Blood type, allergies (none), height and weight (under average). Grades (extremely over average). One picture of her, long and shiny hair and a soft smile. He couldn't find a graphic equation for that.

He copied and pasted all of that into his files. Ayanokouji was giggling and blushing at something that Tamaki had said.

She finished her tea, kissed the blond on the cheek and waved goodbye to the other hosts. Kyouya smiled and nodded in her direction as she left.

Haruhi left the club at five o'clock.

"Tamaki," called Kyouya.

"Yes, mom?"

"I was checking out your designator's profiles. Apparently, Ayanokouji hasn't payed for your services since last month," he turned the laptop around so that Tamaki could see the screen.

"Well, that isn't much, is it?"

"Oh. Sorry. Those are the graphics of her daily charges," Kyouya pressed enter.

"There."

The twins, who were hovering over Kyouya's table, whistled.

"Hell, lord, that's almost as much as the vase the commoner broke!"

Hani smiled his sweetest smile. "I wonder how many cakes I could buy with all that money."

Mori nodded.

"Hmm, well, I can't tell her, that would totally break the lovespell," said Tamaki.

Kyouya closed his eyes and pushed his glasses up.

"I've already told her."

Hani blinked.

Mori hummed.

Hikaru and Kaoru smirked at their senpai's lie.

Tamaki shrugged.

"She probably forgot about it. I forget about things all the time."

"She shouldn't if she wants to keep you like she does now."

Tamaki stared at him.

"What do you mean?"

"She's monopolizing your time. She's not paying for it. Therefore, that daily hour that Ayanokouji spends in your presence is profitless and could be dedicated to more serious designators."

"Huh?"

"Or maybe the problem is that she is a little bit too serious about you..." Kyouya let the idea sink into his best friend's mind.

The soft-spokne twin intervened.

"I think that Kyouya-sempai is right. She doesn't like anyone coming close to you."

"Not other girls."

"Nor other boys."

"She looked very pissed off when you complimented Haruhi on his abilities."

"And when you danced that little merry-go-round tango with him."

"I bet she'd love to tango with you, tono."

"More than tango, but to be tightly pressed to your chest," one twin embraced the other and they parodied themselves stroking their hands over very crude places. Then they went down to the floor, laughing hard.

"After all, that's what princes do to their princesses, don't they?" argued Tamaki.

The twins laughed harder.

Kyouya tapped his fingers and ignored the Hitachiins.

"And, we need that money. For replacing the vase."

"Haruhi's going to pay for that."

"Yes. In the long run. With her work. But the fact is that we have no vase. No piece for auctioning in the festival. And we should replace it unless we want our club to be made fun of by all the attendants."

Kyouya waited as Tamaki realized that the attendants included his father and maybe his grandmother. He pursed his lips.

"I'll pay for a new vase," decided the King. "You will talk to Ayanokouji tomorrow."

Kyouya nodded. He couldn't't push him more for now.

"And be nice," added Tamaki as an afterthought.

"I'm always nice to our clients."

"Then be nicer. Be your sweet kotatsu-self," he started, then remembered that it implied wrestling in the floor and retreated. "You know what I mean."

"Maybe you should consider paying more attention to the other girls that want your services as well?" suggested Kyouya.

"I do nothing but to pay attention to them. Re-schedule them for next week if you are not satisfied with the current time slots," Tamaki snapped. He checked his watch. "I have to go now, dear underlings. Japanese etiquette in the form of Shima is waiting for me."

Kyouya gave up.


Kyouya called the Fujioka residence the second he got home. Haruhi had mentioned that his father worked the night shifts, and that she had to take a train to get to her house. Therefore, the father should be there but Haruhi shouldn't for at least another half an hour.

The young man introduced himself. Ryoji told him that he preferred to go by Ranka.. Kyouya realized that it wouldn't't be a problem to get parental approval for the Haruhi's unorthodox club activities. Ranka loved his daughter very much and blarbed about every single little memory of his dear, cute, brilliant girl. Kyouya homeworked and wrote down about her accomplishments, ticks and habits. He also typed out the main personality traits of Ranka. Quirky. Quick witted. Sincere. He agreed with everything that Ranka said, adding some sweet nothings of his own. Ranka offered to send him some pictures of that dotable being from the "before-the-gum-in-the-hair" incident. So she would look nice in their school photo files. Kyouya thanked him and informed that the Host Club had already provided Haruhi with a suitable uniform.

"No more ugly sweater!" cheered Ranka. "Now I know that your intentions are honorable!"

Kyouya loved to make a good first impression.

On school nights he had to exercise if he wanted to sleep. So he threadmilled six miles while he thought about Tamaki, Ayanokouji, broken vases, hard cold cash and bullies and how to make profit.

After a steamy shower, he called the security section of his family's company. Which incidentally was on charge of the security cameras at Ouran. The talk was shorter and cleaner of the niceties than the one he had with Haruhi's father.


Haruhi was late. Tamaki was worried. Kyouya added 10,000 yens to her debt for that. But Ayanokouji was also late, and that had never happened. Tamaki waited for five minutes, then Kyouya had some faint-prone fangirls redirected to him, so he was occupied. However, Tamaki kept gazing at the door every few minutes. After half an hour, he started to look at Kyouya with puppy, watery eyes. On the corner of his eye he noticed Ayanokouji walking in. He nodded at Tamaki, and his friend excused himself and practically flew out of the music room.

Ayanokouji looked very disappointed. She walked towards him.

"Good afternoon, Kyouya-senpai."

"Good afternoon, Ayanokouji-san. May I help you?"

She smiled at him and nodded and peered out the window.

Kyouya left his laptop and joined her. The girl was looking down at the main courtyard water lily's pond. Haruhi was right in the middle of it, apparently searching for something under the water. She reminded him of the chinese rice croppers. Ayanokouji was very serious, and her hands were in her back, with her fingers closely intertwined.

"Is the new host any good?"

Kyouya smiled politely.

"Of course he is. He wouldn't be among us if he wasn't."

Ayanokouji was picking at her nails. Kyouya continued talking in his best nonchalant tone.

"As you can see, he's quite attractive as well, which is an essential requisite. He may not exhibit it the way the Hitachiins do, and he doesn't pamper his customers as Tamaki-kun, but I've never received any complaints either. Why do you ask?"

"Out of curiosity..." the girl paused. "You know, the first time I saw him I thought that he... well... that he liked boys."

Kyouya observed Haruhi kicking a water lily out of frustration. He noticed her backpack, soaked with water, near the pond. Her notes would be pretty much useless now. So that was Ayanokouji's so-called vengeance against the newbie.Her eyes were still cold, the lids half down, as if the spring sun was too brilliant for her. The vein was beating steadily, and Kyouya tried to mirror her posture.

Ayanokouji continued. "What would happen if somebody complained about a host?"

There it was. Kyouya adjusted his glasses, preparing the trap.

"Well, that would depend on the nature of the complaint. Violence or rudeness against a designator would mean immediate expulsion. We wouldn't't pay much attention to those based on inferior emotions, such as jealousy. We come across those quite a bit; it's inevitable given the nature of this club."

He looked at her face. Maybe she would take that last opportunity and stop at that spot. She had to know that her love was unrequited -she had to pay her bills- and stop whatever crazy scenario of vengeance was rushing through her brain -but it was done and Kyouya knew, and Tamaki would know soon and still she believed that nobody noticed.- But then her pupils dilated, and tears flood her eyes which were still fixed in the pond beneath them. Tamaki had arrived, and after scolding Haruhi for being late, he had taken out his own shoes and was helping her to find whatever was still missing from her backpack. The sun glistened on his golden hair and reverberated in the water. Tamaki found the lost item –a wallet- and hold it up to Haruhi's face, who stayed still, transparent and small. So after all, he could cast his charm even to those who had seen him without his Host mask. Kyouya and Ayanokouji watched their expressions, Tamaki's gentle and genuine smile and Haruhi's big and spellbound eyes lingering for a bit too much on Tamaki's features. Kyouya felt a sting in his chest that he pushed away as soon as he realized that it was there. He expected Ayanokouji to break into tears, but when he looked back at her she had managed to dry her eyes, compose an almost real smile and mouth a request.

"If you don't mind and if it doesn't disturb the club schedules too much, I'd like to designate Fujioka-kun today instead of Tamaki."

Her eyes gleamed again as she slid the curtain. Kyouya touched his glasses and pushed the princess into the hole.

"No problem at all. Haruhi-kun's designators have already go home due to his delay, so he's absolutely free for whatever you may want."

Ayanokouji thanked him and sat at the table where Haruhi was to join her five minutes later.

Kyouya opened his laptop. He printed out the bill of the girl and the pictures that his father's minions had provided for him. Those were not pretty. Ayanokouji was in all of them, and Haruhi's possessions were near her hands, in her clenched fists or flying out in a rage impulse. Then, he walked over to the twins with a two jars full of water and a mouth full of instructions for them. They giggled when he explained what he wanted. Hikaru's face turned dark when Kyouya explained the reason. That twin had less control over his emotions than the other. Finally, he made a quick visit to Ouran's stock room and took a puffy, pale and delicate uniform. When he returned to the third music room, Haruhi and Ayanokouji were already deep into conversation.

He kidnapped Tamaki before he could reach his designator.

"Kyouya, I thought I told you to treat my clients as they deserve."

The vice-president frowned. Tamaki rolled his eyes.

"What now?"

"Ayanokouji-san is not going to pay her bill," informed Kyouya.

"Why? Did you talk to her about it and she refused?"

"No. We are going to expel her."

He showed the incriminating pictures to his friend. Tamaki's eyes darkened.

"Because of me?"

"Yes."

"That's ridiculous. Haruhi's a guy. I could never fall in love with a guy."

"She thinks that Haruhi could be gay."

Tamaki looked flattered.

"Really? I do too, he walked into the club with that dumb excuse about studying and then he was so overwhelmed by my appearance that he broke that thing..." Tamaki paused, looked at the pictures and breathed in. "But even in that case... she shouldn't have been that mean with him."

A shriek, a thump, the shattering of tableware. And as Kyouya had foreseen, Ayanokouji made a scene. Haruhi ended on top of her, looking helplessly dorky and surprised. The twins poured the contents of two jars of water over the girls. Ayanokouji cried out that Haruhi had gotten violent. And then, Tamaki helped her to stand up.

Kyouya feared that his dumb friend was going to let her stay after all. He looked calm and reassuring, and for a second the girl's eyes glinted with triumph. But Tamaki's eyes were somber though his lips smiled, and the twins mocking grins were cruel and childish, and Mori and Hani were watching from not so far away with their judgemental stare, and he himself had her photographs in her hand, so the sparkle died out even before she finished her accusation against a very wet, very beaten Haruhi.

And then, while Tamaki dismissed Ayanokouji with impeccable manners, and when she drowned her eyes in his for a moment, asking for help, Kyouya felt the sting again. It increased its intensity as his friend pulled up Haruhi and informed her that her debt had multiplied by ten due to today's scene.

Kyouya guided Haruhi into the changing room and gave her the puffy yellow dress that was the girls uniform. While watching her hands peel off the socks from her feet, he asked Tamaki the reason for this sudden change of mind.

"Well, he seems to be doing very well with the designators, I thought you'd like to get your money back.." Kyouya nodded softly "And I wouldn't't mind to practice my seduction skills with men; today's fashions change rapidly and more and more people decide to take alternative paths... and half of Ouran's population is composed of men. But if he kept working at that rhythm, his 100 designators debt would be repaid in no time and I wouldn't't be able to develop my homo appeal fully. There's no need to negate my charming self to the men, is it?"

Typical.

Tamaki took a white, fluffy towel from the pile that Hani had brought from the karate club locker's room. He winked at Kyouya and murmured something about observing and learning from the King of Love. Then, he draw the curtain.

The twins were right. Her neck was long and lean, and her waist was small, and her hair was better short than long because it would have hidden her soft as powder shoulder blades, and the small breasts tightened her camisole just a little bit, and she didn't even turn her head while the six boys stared for those two seconds that took Tamaki to realize that he had charged a lovely lady with an impossible debt.

When Haruhi stepped out dressed in the puffy, delicate and pale uniform -which was even more expensive than they boy's one, due to the silk- she laughed at Tamaki while an scarlet blush conquered his face, and she called him cool while he looked as if he was going to explode.

It was priceless.


It was midnight and Kyouya was online. A long "To-do" list laid in front of him. He had to write thank you e-mails to the people who'd sent him the photos. He had to check how his stocks were doing in the other side of the world. He had to finish his physics assignment and Wikipedia was feeling particularly badly organized today, with the pages taking ages to load in every language. He had to prepare the schedules for the hosts. After all, they had a whole unplanned year of activities ahead.

His messenger status was "disconnected", but Tamaki talked to him nonetheless.

LeRoi says: Why did you all keep it from me?!?!?!

Kyouya considered not answering, but Tamaki buzzed.

Thirdling says: I told you. I wanted to see what would happen. Honestly, you should have noticed before.

LeRoi says: ...

Thirdling says: What a shame, the King of Love can't tell the differences between genders.

LeRoi says: So you wanted to scheme and smirk in the shadows. Fine. What about the others?

Soft skin, liquid eyes, fly-way hair. All of that only for the members of the club. But Tamaki was too pure and clean. He couldn't't tell him the truth if he wanted Haruhi to work as glue.

High class girls were spoiled from the cradle and they never learned to share. Most of them accepted the concept of "rent" though.

Most of them.

So did high class boys.

Thirdling says: Hikaru and Kaoru wanted to make fun of you.

LeRoi says: What about Hani-senpai and Mori-senpai?

Thirdling says: Mori doesn't talk unless it's strictly necessary. And I don't think that Hani cared about it at all. He only cares about desserts.

"LeRoi is writing a message" came up and down for a few minutes. Tamaki finally managed to put his ideas together on the screen.

LeRoi says: I'd never have put that debt over her if I knew that she was a girl. It's not right.

Thirdling says: She broke the vase and she was the cause of you designator's abandonment. Because of her, Ayanokouji will not come back, so we lose all the money she could have spent. It's only fair that we get back what we deserve.

LeRoi says: I thought that you were against time monopolizers.

Thirdling says: I am. But I'm also against monetary loss.

He was also against watching his best friend sulk, and against failing in a project.

LeRoi says: So are we keeping her?

Her feet were small and her gaze was clean and easy to read. She sported his haircut and her uniform was half a size too big (just in case). She owed them. Debts had to be repaid, and Kyouya knew that in a way she was doing it with her body.

Thirdling says: Of course.

LeRoi says: It feels kind of good to have someone to look after. And she's pretty interesting, don't you think so?

Kyouya thought about all the things that Ranka had told him.

Thirdling says: I don't know her well. Maybe. She's blunt.

LeRoi says: Yeah, and she wants to study hard! If the guys noticed that she's that cute, they'd be all over her in no time. And she wouldn't't have time to study. We could spare her their attentions.

Kyouya laughed. So that was his excuse.

LeRoi says: I'm going to bed. See you tomorrow!

When Tamaki logged out, Kyouya opened Excell. He hadn't't told him that they were in monetary loss already. Not much, but enough for having to cancel three upcoming cosplays.

He considered the options. He doubted for a moment. Then he sent out a very polite e-mail to a certain ex-customer, reminding her of her pending bill. Kyouya smashed the guilt when he pressed "enter" by telling himself that business was business.

Kyouya knew that by doing so, he'd no longer have a way of explaining to the others why Haruhi had to stay for such a long time. In case they asked, he could reason that she'd bring in profit, adding to the club's vault. But he trusted them to like their newest attraction so much for not wanting to ask.

She would be an entertainment, a juggler for the Host Club boys. That was it. Juggling the debt, the studies, the five boys and the many girls. Jugglers were similar to jesters. Their mission was to keep the court entertained. Kyouya yawned. He closed his computer and slid his body under the sheets. Those were white, crisp and cold.

The possibility of winning Haruhi's affection would keep them in as long as she stayed in. Probably. He had to make sure that no host passed too much alone time with her. Kyouya didn't want a male Ayanokouji among them.

He put his glasses on the bedside table and stared at the high ceiling over him. His sheets were still freezing.

She was a jester, not a juggler, when she stepped in. Underdressed and an utter disaster. He crossed his arms under his head. It had felt good to help her come out of that... sweater. It was satisfactory, like peeling the skin of an orange until all the slices were exposed. But it was the twins who did that, weren't they?

Kyouya noticed how far away his ceiling was. He couldn't almost see it in the dark.

She was so thin. Hani would take care of that. And Mori saved her when she was spinning and dizzy.

His bed wasn't warming up.

Tamaki made her laugh.

Kyouya recalled her frightened expression when they had that little talk about running away. He smiled. He saw himself adding zeros to her debt. Peeping down at the water lily pond and talking her abuser into a trap.

He was the one who kept her in.

For his best friend's crazy dream-talk idea.

For the others as well.

For a profitable income.

For the moment, that was enough.

His bed stayed cold while he drifted into slumber.

Kyouya dreamt about curtains, water lilies and about eight million vases exploding in Haruhi's lap.


First fic ever. English is not my first language, so cut me some slack there.

Besides that, I hope you liked it.

PS- Many thanks to Audley for the grammar corrections. :-)