Chapter Text
Unlike the other students, you had never attended an after-school club before.
Even so, there was a first time for everything.
The crowd moved ahead of you easily, practiced in their route toward the third music room, and you were careful not to stand out. In fact, you purposefully fell behind in your stride.
Today, you were on your way to the host club room as Kyouya instructed. Just yesterday, he had given you written instructions on how to get there before emailing the directions to you. You couldn't tell if the boy was prioritizing time or if he just really didn't want you to get lost. Whatever the motive, it made you feel a bit warm.
As you made your way to the room where the host club was held, you found yourself flat against the adjacent wall, back pressed upon the polished marble as it held you— the same way Kyouya did during the meeting. But at the moment, he wasn't there to remind you to keep walking. So you pushed yourself forward instead, taking a deep breath as you opened the grand double doors of the host club.
Almost immediately, you were met with the fresh scent of divine pastries and expensive tea leaves. Each flavor kissed your senses as it danced hand in hand with each girl's signature perfume.
For a moment, you considered how you would definitely be drawn to whoever had the most delightful fragrance if you were a host.
That thought was quickly interrupted as you were reminded that you had entered the host club for a reason.
Six boys— all of whom you knew by name— began to make their way over to you before you even had a chance to spot Kyouya.
You wouldn't be a very good vice president if you didn't know these boys, who were famous within the school for their own reasons. And the first one to greet you was none other than the school's prince, Suoh Tamaki.
“Ah, a new guest!” He began, offering his hand to you as he donned the most radiant smile you had ever seen.
“Welcome to the Host Club. Please, make yourself comfortable. Today is a perfect day to be spoiled.”
Straight away, any lingering confusion you had about the host club's popularity diminished. It was no wonder students flocked towards this room; who wouldn't want to be treated like royalty by the most handsome men in the school?
But that wasn’t why you were there. Your hand rested in Tamaki’s, but your gaze was elsewhere as you took in the club's decor. It was apparent that there was a special theme the club was going for that day; something Victorian tea party adjacent.
“I'm here for somebody specific,” You began, your eyes scanning for the jet black straight hair and square glasses that belonged to the boy who invited you.
“Oh?” He said with a muted look of surprise on his face. You could only assume it wasn't often someone didn't fall to their knees from his warmhearted presence alone.
“Then allow me to point you in their direction. I'd be more than happy to accommodate your taste.” Tamaki responded, sporting a smile that was just as luminous as when he first saw you.
That was when someone placed a hand on his shoulder. Immediately, you knew who she was by her face alone.
Fujioka Haruhi, a girl you had supported as best you could on her journey through this prestigious school, stood behind Tamaki with a calm look on her face.
You were very much aware of her wealth discrepancies compared to the wealthy students here, so you had made it your mission to look out for her whenever you were able. But at the moment, you were confused as to why she was dressed in male Victorian attire like the other hosts. Despite your perplexity, you shrugged it off as she spoke.
“Senpai, I don't think the class vice president is here for the host club.” She clarified, her tone gentle and comforting.
Tamaki released your hand softly, a puzzled look appearing on his face as your words and Haruhi's battled in his mind.
“Then why-” He began. Although subtle, you made note of the small pink tint in Tamaki's cheeks as Haruhi touched his shoulder.
“Ootori invited me so we could work on our project.” You explained, offering an apologetic smile to Tamaki for not making yourself clear in the beginning. Yet before Tamaki could respond, the twins you knew very well made their way over in tandem.
“Oh? A visitor for Ootori?” Hikaru began. You analyzed the direction of their bangs, a detail you had made a point to memorize early on.
“The last time someone came specifically for him was…well, actually, I can't recall,” Kaoru said with a laugh as the Hitachiin twins began to analyze you. Before either one of them got too close, Haruhi corrected them as she explained why you were there. The twins, as quick as they appeared, swiftly lost interest as they had no idea where Kyouya was anyway. Nevertheless, it wasn't that hard to spot the only person in the host club who sat looking at a computer screen instead of gazing into the eyes of a host or guest.
You briefly thanked both hosts before making your way over to his secluded table. As you walked between tables, you caught the curious glances of students. Not only was this your first attendance, but you were actively walking past every other host. As a result, the students in attendance felt less threatened, so their eyes didn't linger on your slightly nervous frame for long.
Before you reached his table, Kyouya had gotten up to show Haruhi how to perfectly pour tea for the club’s customers. You took note of how gentle and poised he was as he offered gentle smiles to each girl— smiles you hadn't seen him wear anywhere else. It made you realize that although it seemed to contrast with his personality, this club really did hold a special place in his heart.
Handing the rich porcelain teapot back to Haruhi, he turned around to see you standing at his table with an ever so slightly awkward yet polite look on your face.
And for a moment, he was surprised. Although he expected you to arrive and had even invited you, Kyouya wasn't used to intertwining his work-related peers with his after-school activities. Ultimately, a soft expression returned to his face as he offered you a seat.
“I can only hope it wasn't too troublesome to get here,” Kyouya said, his voice just loud enough to hear above the chatter of each patron and their adorned host.
“I was just about trampled by the crowd, but I made it.” You joked as you opened your laptop.
A small laugh— one that was closer to an exhale— left Kyouya following your response. It was something you didn't hear often, if ever. And for a small moment, you longed to hear it again.
“Shall we begin?”
The days following were calmer than you had expected. Each time after class, you made your way to the host club, oftentimes beelining it for the doors just to beat the crowd and secure your seat. You knew how it looked, as if Kyouya was your chosen host. But you were just being work-efficient. Even so, the hosts seemed amused each time you appeared, your attention dead set on their ghost-club president.
Although you were there for work, you couldn’t help but take in the new settings the club adorned the room in. Each day you arrived, you were greeted with something different. Something new and refreshing.
At first, you found that every conversation between you and Kyouya returned neatly to the project. Schedules, outlines, and logistics were the main focus as the two of you made it a silent rule. Efficiency was always a common interest between the two of you.
But eventually, you began asking smaller questions. Questions regarding the club, the themes, all things that weren’t strictly necessary. Each one fell from your lips in a state of pure curiosity every time you looked around.
Before long, Kyouya stopped redirecting. His answers to your moderate inquisitiveness lengthened as details came to light. He told you small facts about each host and even each regular. At one point, he even took a break to humor you about who you thought was the mastermind behind each club theme was. You couldn't help but giggle when he admitted to subtly feeding Tamaki ideas for each theme.
Slowly, the project stopped being the center of every exchange. Each moment you spent in that club sat across from the third son of the Ootori family gave you a glimpse into who the boy really was outside of work.
You began to recognize the soft click of his silver fountain pen— one he always used without fail— as it signaled his preference for reliability over flashy looks. Small details were easier to spot in his relaxed state as you gazed at his notebook. Your eyes landed on a faded lavender cat sticker tucked discreetly inside the cover. It was gentle and unassuming, but you had to admit it directly contrasted the rest of his setup. Despite that, it still brought a smile to your face.
A smile that Kyouya had begun to notice more frequently.
A soft “has something caught your eye?” left Kyouya, hardly looking up from his work. But you could tell he was as amused as he was curious.
And so you asked, reaching forward to touch his notebook as you flipped open the cover page. Just barely enough so that he could see what you were beaming at.
For exactly a moment longer than usual, he seemed hesitant to explain. Yet he quickly regained his composure as he explained that “Honey-senpai had gifted it.”
However, the faint blush that stained his cheeks did not go unnoticed as he elaborated that the sticker was a character; one he shyly noted was from a show he used to enjoy as a child.
The admission lingered between the two of you for only a moment before he adjusted his glasses—a habitual motion you had come to recognize. The faint color in his cheeks faded as his attention shifted, posture settling back into work as his fingers returned to their familiar place along the keyboard of his laptop.
“I like it…It suits you.” You said in passing as you returned your focus to your work as well.
“It was…a kind gesture,” he responded casually, gently dismissing Honey's gift. But the faint warmth of his cheeks that began to make its return gave him away immediately.
By the end of the first week, the host club had been fully incorporated into your schedule. Although you weren't a customer, you found yourself chatting with the hosts and even a couple of the students who attended as you learned about each member. In a way, it was beneficial to get to know your peers since you were the class vice president.
It was a warm Thursday afternoon as you entered the host club. As always, you were welcomed with warm smiles and welcoming greetings as you smiled back. But your expression quickly fell as your gaze rested upon the uncharacteristically empty table you always joined Kyouya at. A quick scan of the room gave you zero intel as to where your project partner was hiding.
The hosts quickly took notice of your frozen stature as the Hitachiin twins made their way over, followed by Haruhi.
“Looking for someone?” Kaoru questioned with a sly smile. Before you could open your mouth to answer, Hikaru was already following up. “We'll tell you…if you guess who's who.”
You blinked a few times, confused at what they were getting at. But that was when you realized— they had swapped the hairstyles in an attempt to trick people. The twins began to snicker as they fed off the brief confusion on your face.
“You're Hikaru,” You began, pointing to Hikaru, who immediately looked shocked.
“And you're Kaoru.” You finished, pointing to Kaor,u who adorned an utterly defeated expression instead.
“That's not fair!” They said in unison, but Haruhi spoke up soon after.
“If you're looking for Ootori-senpai, he's in the—” But she was cut off by both twins placing their hands over her mouth before whining about how Haruhi always ruined the fun. Just as you were about to tell them off for playing games with you, a deep monotone voice came from way above you.
“He's in the room to the far left. He arrived late today.”
It was none other than Morinozuka Takashi, or as the other hosts called him, Mori. You hadn't heard him speak the whole time you were there, but it was a welcome change as you immediately thanked him before exiting the situation. It was only a matter of time before Tamaki appeared to scold the twins for simply touching Haruhi.
With quick steps, you made your way to the room Mori told you Kyouya was in. All that lingered in your mind was how unlike Kyouya it was to be…late.
As you wrapped your hand around the cold metal of the door knob, you twisted and pushed it open. You closed the door softly behind you as you entered the small, dimly lit room. As your eyes adjusted to the new setting, the sight that was before you was nothing short of shocking.
There he was— glasses set neatly on the crate beside him in direct contrast to his unusually disheveled state. His shirt hung loosely on his person, only buttoned halfway, as his fingers worked to put together his costume (which you noted was pirate-related today).
Kyouya’s hair was in slight disarray as strands of hair pointed in every direction like soldiers out of line, the faintest shadow of tension visible in his posture.
He had never been late before, and it showed.
You knew how that felt. To be held to such a standard that being a few minutes late of all things could so easily throw you off your balance and make you doubt yourself.
And yet, seeing him like this, momentarily unguarded, made your heart skip a beat. Just for a second.
Before he could speak, you rushed to apologize as your voice wavered with nerves. Amidst your embarrassed state, you failed to catch how his eyes fell on you and softened almost immediately as he realized it was just you.
“It's not a problem.” He said, a sense of calm carrying his words. “You can stay.”
Nevertheless, his words fell upon deaf ears as you turned to face the door.
“No, no, it's alright, I'll see myself out,” you stammered, gunning it for the door as your finger brushed the knob.
To your surprise, a hand landed on the door just barely above you as it lay flat against the wood, preventing your escape. You froze, suddenly aware of the presence behind you. His breath was notably a little labored as the faint scent of his cologne kissed your senses.
“Stay,” Kyouya said, his voice just barely above a whisper. His tone was low and deliberate, and you could both tell, although unspoken, just how uncharacteristic this was.
And so you stayed.
Following that moment, the tension slipped away as his composure settled in your presence. He adjusted his shirt as his fingers delicately finished buttoning every last button to the very top, breaking the silence as he told you about today's theme.
You listened, nervous at first. But soon enough, every ounce of anxiety left your body as the conversation drifted into soft laughter and chatter that for once had nothing to do with schedules or meetings.
When he finally finished getting dressed, you handed Kyouya his glasses, the simple gesture bridging him back to the composed man everyone knew him as. He gently took them from your hands with a soft “thank you,” as his fingers brushed against yours for an almost insignificant moment. Almost.
As the two of you left the small room, the warmth of the moment lingered, following you to the table. And for the first time, it felt like he was truly letting you in.