Chapter Text
Kyoya desperately did not want to be in this situation. Doing the one thing he really, really didn’t want to do: gamble.
It happened something like this.
Kyoya, now forced into planning and budgeting for the Hyakkaou Academy Student Council Host Club (kill him now), was looking for any and all reprieves from this task. While it was much easier than attempting to budget Tamaki’s exorbitant whims, the requests of the student council were still ridiculous.
Midari wanted a Dance Dance Revolution machine for a new game she invented called DDR Roulette, which she wanted to debut at the Host Club opening. DENIED (for liability reasons, it being completely irrelevant to the Host Club, and because Kyoya did not want to buy a DDR machine. The flashing lights and sounds gave him headaches).
Yuriko initially asked for kenzans and a florist budget for her Ikebana, which was completely reasonable and an actually Host Club-relevant purchase. Kyoya had been ready to approve it when he noticed her recent, secret addition to her budget plan: original copies of the painted illustrations of the life of Dōgen. Like hell they had the budget for that! The goal of this Host Club was to make money, not sink into more debt.
Kirari wanted a new building to hold it, which Kyoya immediately shot down unless she was going to pay for it using her own money. She seemed to be contemplating it, but as of right now, Kyoya was planning on using the FREE and READILY AVAILABLE recreational spaces to hold it.
Ruka wanted a Nintendo Switch 2. Denied for obvious reasons (wild misappropriation of club funds).
Needless to say, looking through these inconceivable budget plans was giving him a headache.
Luckily, just as he was finishing up a break and getting ready to move on to Yumemi’s budget plan, Sayaka offered him a lifeline.
“Manyuda-kun, the American Culture Appreciation Club has outstanding debts. Perhaps you should go and encourage them to settle them.”
Kyoya didn’t really know what this would entail, but he assumed he would just go, assert his authority over them, and they would pay him back. So, he decided to do just that.
The American Culture Appreciation Club was on the other side of campus, in a room so garish it made Kyoya’s eyes water. The walls were painted in red and white stripes, with blue stars studding them periodically. They were plastered with full-size posters of various American movies and sports players, and a giant bald eagle sculpture hung from the ceiling, acting as a chandelier. A cardboard cutout of shirtless Joe Biden stood in the corner, staring at Kyoya, making him extremely uncomfortable.
The members were also dressed to look simultaneously as American as possible, and like they’d never seen an American in their lives.
Kyoya cleared his throat. “Ahem, I am here to collect your outstanding debt to the student council. Which one of you is the president of this…club?”
A boy wearing a football helmet, basketball shorts, and a shirt that ironically boasted the flag of Cuba, not America (although he didn’t seem to know that), stepped forward. He smelled aggressively of Axe Body Spray, which made Kyoya want to escape as quickly as possible even more than before.
“What’s up dude, my name is Chad,” the president replied in English, clearly trying his best impression of a Southern Californian.
Kyoya reluctantly stuck out his hand to shake, “Manyuda Kaede, although you must know that.”
“No shit! Wow, Kaede in the flesh. Bro, this is epic!”
Kyoya cringed, “I prefer Manyuda. And let's not drag this out any longer than it needs to be. It would be a mercy to both of us if you paid up and let me go on my way.”
Chad gestured for another guy, wearing a full American Revolutionary War uniform, to enter the conversation. The two of them whispered heatedly for a second before Chad turned back to Kyoya.
“See, uh, you’re like a nice guy, right? Really understanding and stuff?” Chad started.
Before Kyoya could interject that he was, in fact, not a nice guy and had very little patience for these kinds of shenanigans, Chad continued.
“So the thing is…we, uh, don’t have the money to pay.”
Kyoya pinched the bridge of his nose.
“According to the most recent audit of your club budget, you should have enough to pay up, so where, may I ask, did that money go?” Kyoya’s vitriol was evident.
“Uhh, so, um, like…” Chad mumbled.
Kyoya glared at him, “Get on with it.”
“We, uh, may have, like, spent it on merchandise…”
“Merchandise?” Kyoya was baffled, “And what kind of merchandise was worth spending ¥100000!?”
“I told you he wouldn’t get it,” said the Revolutionary War uniform guy.
“Shut up, Troy,” Chad replied, “It was merchandise for this really like awesome band, Fencer. You’d understand if you just listen to their music. I swear you’ll even umm give us an extension or something.”
Kyoya was highly, highly, doubtful. But he acquiesced to listening to one song. And after he did, oh boy, he wanted to triple this stupid club’s debt.
“Pay up now, or I will shut down your club and make you all housepets,” Kyoya demanded, the ringing in his ears from hearing that godawful music having yet to fade away.
“So, uhh, we don’t have the money though…” Chad thought for a moment, “What if we like, gamble you for it or something? If we win you waive our debt.”
Kyoya would normally not agree to this under any circumstances. But the combination of the growing migraine from the smell of Axe body spray, the sound of Fencer, and the piercing gaze of Joe Biden compromised his judgment.
“Fine. If I win, your debt is doubled and you become a housepet,” Kyoya agreed. After a moment, he added, “And you all have to take a goddamn shower!”
—---------------
It was Monopoly. The American culture club members wanted to gamble over Monopoly. Kyoya would’ve said no, because Monopoly takes forever, but for all that he wasn’t good at gambling, he was great at Monopoly.
Kyoya could recall off the top of his head several instances of playing Monopoly with the Host Club, where he dominated the entire time. Most of the time, no one even realized that he was winning until the game was already over. He played swiftly and silently, luring his opponents into a false sense of security, which was broken when they landed on his Boardwalk with 4 hotels and went bankrupt. It got to the point where he was banned from taking part in any Monopoly games in Ouran.
So yeah, he was happy with the choice of game.
It was, of course, the American special edition of Monopoly, as if regular Monopoly wasn’t already American enough. As for the gambling, there was basically none. Besides the initial stakes of the wager that they set beforehand, it was just a typical game of Monopoly. 2 players, Kyoya versus Chad, with Troy and another member of the American culture club, Makeighleigh, acting as bankers.
Kyoya chose the top hat token, since it seemed like the least American of the pieces. Chad spent a full 5 minutes deliberating between the Liberty Bell and apple pie tokens, before landing on the Liberty Bell.
The game was predictable. Chad, shockingly, was not a good strategist in any capacity. He chose properties based on how much he personally liked them, and spent more time than not in jail.
After a brisk 20 minutes, Kyoya successfully owned every property on the board, and Chad was bankrupt.
Satisfied with his success, Kyoya stood up, brushed off his pants, and proclaimed, “Good game.”
Chad looked shellshocked, like he’d never even imagined that losing was a possibility.
“How…how is this possible dude??” Chad mumbled, “I’ve never lost to anyone. I’m the Monopoly champion of Hyakkaou!”
Dear god, Chad was the best they had?
“I…I accept my defeat.” Chad prostrated himself at Kyoya’s feet, “I’ll do like anything to pay off the umm club’s debt, bro! I’m like your loyal housepet now. What will you have me do, dude master?”
Oh. Oh no. Chad was now his housepet. Kyoya really regretted not thinking this through fully. He should’ve kept looking at reports, instead of getting involved in whatever the fuck this was.
He had just made Chad, president of the American Culture Appreciation Club, his servant.