Chapter One

When Countries Become High School Students!

America's POV

I zoned out of the rest of this World Conference. Germany had gotten to that point where he doesn't let anyone hear my totally awesome plans. He'd been talking about stuff that doesn't make sense, like high school, Japan, weird stuff like that.

I looked around, and it turns out I wasn't the only bored one here. China appeared to have fallen asleep on the table, England,Morocco, Sara, and France were arguing in whispers again. (Sara was pulling out her cast iron skillet dangerously by this point.) North Italy was playing with a kitten in the corner, Switzerland and Liechtenstein left a while back, you get the idea.

'IS ANYBODY EVEN LISTENING?!" yelled Germany, which caused everyone to jump to attention, except, of course, for Greece, who continued napping. "Now, we have a serious thing to discuss here, and you are all acting like idiots!" shouted Germany in his heavy German accent.

Morocco grumbled, and placed her skillet in her belt, but not before she knocked out France with it. Those two have been so argumentative since the Franco-Moroccan Wars. I decided to speak up.

"Well, Whatever it is that we're doing, I'll be in charge because I'M THE HERO!"

"What makes you think we'd put you in charge?" asksEngland.

"DUH! I'm the hero, everybody knows that!"

"WILL YOU BOTH SHUT UP?!" Whoa. Germany really was ticked off today. Before I could ponder on it, though, a business-like woman with long, straight raven black hair walked in holding a clipboard. I noticed Japan shift uncomfortably. Whoa. Was that his boss? What drags her into this? Everyone snapped to attention as she started talking. "Alright, as Germany tried to cover, we are in a matter where we must begin to observe teenager trends, in order to successfully sell products.

"To do this, a headmaster of a high school in Japan sworn to secrecy has offered to let us observe from there," she said, in a very buisnesslike manner. Whoa. She wanted us to go to a high school?

"Ouran High School is a school that you will be attending starting tomorrow. The countries that will attend are, the Axis, the Allies, the Baltics, Morocco, Sweden, Finland, Spain, Prussia, Poland, Taiwan, Hong Kong, and Korea. Now, if I have not called your name or group, you may as well leave." Several countries got up and made for the exit. "Canada, don't go stealth mode on me! You're one of the Allies, even if you are invisible!" Canada nodded and went back to his seat. Russia promptly sat on him again. "Now, while you are at Ouran, you are not to call each other by your nation names! For the love of all that is international, call each other by your human names! Here's a quick reminder, for you that are so used to nation names. Okay, North Italy - Feliciano Vargas. Germany - Ludwig Weillschmidt. Japan - Kiku Honda. America - Alfred F. Jones. England - Arthur Kirkland. Russia - Ivan Braginski. China - Yao Wang. France - Francis Bonnefoy. Canada - Matthew Williams. Morocco - Sara al-Fassi. Sweden - Berwald Oxenstierna. Finland - Tino Väinämöinen. Lithuania - Toris Lorinaitis. Latvia - Raivis Galante. Estonia - Eduard Von Bock. Spain - Antonio Carriedo. Prussia - Gilbert Weillschmidt. Korea - Im Yong Soo. The rest of you, Taiwan, Hong Kong, are not as well known, so you may continue to be known as your nation name."

I stared at the woman. She expected us to go to a HIGH SCHOOL? In JAPAN? Everyone well probably be so polite and boring! But, even a hero wouldn't contradict this woman.

(Later, in the school, in private changing rooms)

I wriggled uncomfortably in the boy uniform. Arrgh. It's too tight. How do they wear these? Just then, Morocco emerges from the changing room in... a boy's uniform? Her shoulder-length hair was pulled up in such a way that she looked just like a guy. "Wha-?" I began. She burst out laughing. "Don't ask. I mean, could you see me in that horrid girl's uniform? UGH." I glance over at a group of girls, all wearing poufy, yellow, and might I add ugly gowns. I really can't see Morocco in that. "So, from now on, I am to be known as Saras (Sah-ras) al-Fassi!" some girls who were watching nearby began squealing. "HE'S SO CUTE!" So they really thought Morocco was a guy. I noticed her skillet still in her belt at her side. "Do you seriously need that in a high school?!" I ask.

"Of course I do! France- AH I MEAN Francis is here!" she winked, and left the room.

Morocco's POV

(and Haruhi moments.)

I rushed eagerly down the hall, looking for a quiet place to write my latest story. I came to an abandoned music room. Music Room #3. Perfection! I can work on my musical skills while I'm here! I opened the door, and was nearly blinded by a bright light and rose petals. France! That frog! was my first thought. I fingered my cast iron skillet as the light died down. "Welcome." said a perfect chorus of voices. I stared at them. All of them guys. Except one, who was wearing a guys uniform, but who was I to judge, doing the same thing and dressing as a guy.

"Ah, it's a boy," stated a red-haired someone.

"What shall we do about that, boss?" asked another, apparently his twin, shaking his head in mock sadness.

"Isn't he one of those foreign exchange students?" asked the girl curiously.

"Yes, I'm Saras al Fassi, from the country of Morocco," I stated, stepping bravely in front of a pillar, not noticing the expensive-looking pink vase on it. The twins advanced causing me to back up, and look behind me. Oh, crap, I thought, noticing the vase finally. If I break that thing, I'm dead meat with amlou on top!

"You're from-" starts a twin

"Morocco?" finishes the other. They advance farther, and I am literally right against the pillar. The girl facepalms and closes her eyes, like she knew what was about to happen. I took an unwise step back. That did it. It all happened at once, the pillar wobbled, the twins backed up the girl stared at me in shock, a raven haired man smiled slightly, and pushed his glasses up his nose, I shouted, "Oh, crap! No!" I turned and outstretched my fingers for the handle of the vase. "Nooooooooo!" My fingers brushed against it and-

CRASH!

I remained leaning over the pillar, my arm still outstretched in the same position I was in before it fell, into a million pieces. My outstretched fingers twitched slightly, as I calculated how much that was in my head, but I sucked at math. I flopped over the pillar and slid down to my knees, saying, "Crap..."

Two more people joined us as the girl helped me to my feet. One was tall, and silent-seeming. The other was a young-looking boy on his shoulders, who was holding a bunny and saying, "Haru-chan! Don't tell me you broke another expensive vase!"

Suddenly, a man who reminded me a bit of Japan came up to me and said. "I see. Well, 'Mr.' al-Fassi, that's an 8,000,000 yen vase you just smashed. Seeing as you are a foreign exchange student, you have an opportunity to pay off your debt with service, rather than payment."

"S-service?"

"Perfect idea, Mommy!" a blonde boy that reminded me too much of France came up. "Congratulations, Saras al-Fassi, you are now considered an official member of the glorious Ouran High School Host Club!"

"Wha-what? I never agreed to this!" I say shaking my head madly.

"Well, Mr. al-Fassi, it's that or 8,000,000 yen I correct in saying so, 'Daddy'?"

Daddy?

"Right you are, Mommy. So I, Tamaki Suoh, will take the job of finding this man's type!"

"TYPE?" I ask, as the sound of a powerful motor fills the room. A platform with a girl standing on it emerged from the floor. "I thought this was a music room!?" I exclaim. The girl host comes up to me, saying, "Just go with it." I nodded.

The girl on the platform says, "All hosts have a different type, referring to their individual personalities! Tamaki, the princely type!" The France-like one holds out a rose. "Kyoya, the cool type!" The Japan-like one, pushes his glasses up his nose, still smiling. "Hikaru and Karou! The Little Devil types!" The twins stood back to back and winked. "Haruhi, the Natural type!" The female host turned at the sound of her name. "Honey, the loli-shota type!" The small boy took a large bite of cake and smiled. "Mori, the silent type!" The tall boy nodded."So what's the type for you?" she looked me up and down, and her eyes fell on my skillet."Of course! The Adventurous type!"

"You play the part of the adventurous, outgoing, romantic, and friendly young man, who enjoys traveling the world, and telling about different countries!"

"That's actually not far from accurate." I wink. "I do know alot about countries!"

"Then that means my work here is done!" The girl's platform descended into the floor and vanished.

"Alright, Mr. al-Fassi, we need you to interest 100 customers to repay your debt. The first customers of the day arrive soon, so we need you to get changed."

"Today's theme is an Egyptian-Arabic theme! Saras, put these on. Pronto," says Tamaki. The twins salute and shove me into a changing room.

"ALRIGHT, I'LL CHANGE, BUT YOU TWO NEED TO GET OUT!" I shoved them out of the room and slammed the curtains. The twins exchanged glances, and nodded, like they figured something out. I didn't see them, however, and emerged in a top that thankfully covered the fact that I was a girl, and a traditional Arabic outfit. I wore a head covering, similar to Egypt's, only transparent and sandy colored. I emerged from the room, and stood next to Haruhi. While I was changing, the room had somehow become like a Moroccan village, with benches here and there. I couldn't help but smile. I might like this Host Club. Soon, the girls came in, in awe with the fascinating scene. "Welcome," I say, in unison with the rest. "Please welcome Saras al-Fassi, our newest member from Morocco. This is in honor of him. I sit down on a bench, taking an apple from a basket and passing it to a brown haired girl."For you, imported from Morocco itself!" I smile and hold out the apple. She squeals. "SO CUTE!" and takes the apple. Soon, girls are fluttering around me, asking questions about Morocco, where I've been, (teehee!) and who I've met. "Ah, England. Beautiful place, but terrible food!" The girls all squeal and laugh.

"Um, Saras? Can you tell me more about America? I've always wanted to go there,"

I smile. "Three words. Loud, Parties, and AWESOME!" I say, remembering Mr. America's crazy tales.

"What about Italy? I just adore the culture!"

"Italy? Such a nice place! And the Coliseum? You have got to see it! I mean, I was in awe when I saw it! Those Romans really knew their stuff!" The girls squealed some more. Suddenly, the door opens, and I'm surprised to find Taiwan standing there. "Oh! Sorry, must've found the wrong place-" She notices me."Morocco! AHH, I mean, I love how this place looks just like Morocco! I have to go now or I'll be late bye!" She rushes out before any awkward questions could be asked. I shrug and continue chatting with my customers.