Chapter Text
Get your tea and maybe some popcorn, and by all means, read on!
All rights to the OHSHC manga and the anime(i think) belong to Bisco Hatori. He can steal this character and step on me, and i'd thank him. You made the greatest thing to ever exist, and i doubt you're reading this but you're series helped me in some difficult times for me. I hope i did it even a little justice.
The soft clicking of her expensive heeled shoes echoed through the clean white pillars of the Ouran School Courtyard. Soft morning light spilled through the winding columns, each decorated with glamor and expensive flair. Her perfectly pressed skirt and shirt were the very image of well-groomed. Her skirt was perfectly regulation length, not too short yet not too long. Her shoes were of the best quality, and the heels were tall enough to not obstruct her speed walking, but short enough to be comfortable. Her eyes were a soft green, but her pupils were pinpoint in focus. Pushing her cat-eye shaped glasses up her nose, she secured her hair. Her dead straight black hair clipped in a bun at the back of her head just barely moved at her steady pace. Her compact frame floated through the hallways, the clacking of the shoes like fireworks through the usually silent morning Ouran Highschool hallways. Putting her books back into her locker, her every move was dainty and calculated. Her green eyes skittered across the floors, recounting her memories of things in the past.
‘The top floor of the south building.’
She stepped carefully up the red velvet stairs and led her hands up the golden rails of the highly decorated school.
‘at the end of the north hallway’
Passing the royally pastel floors and blushing bride pink accents, her grip tightened on the clipboard she had been holding with intent.
‘in the abandoned music room.’
Hovering over the gold brushed handle, her lips part for a small inward breath of preparation, before pushing open the heavy door containing the Ouran Highschool Host Club. In a powerful gust of wind, the sweet smell of roses washed over her, and the fluttering of soft rose petals brushed across the sides of her face and arms.
“Welcome,”
Carefully she studied their costumes for today. Professional business executives, it seemed. Tailored suits with proper ties and cufflinks. Prim hair and perfectly shined shoes. Haninozuka and Fujioka seemed to be the only ones without the crisp business flair, but leaning towards Business-Casual Get Ups. Ironed white shirts with no ties, but Cashmere Sweater vests, thick and luxurious. They were all posed and ready for their regular swooning, but got silence. She was paying attention to something completely different.
Quickly and with no complication, she deeply bowed and said with crystal clarity;
“Good Morning.”
Her voice was clear but soothing and had a deeper and mature tone.
“Why so formal? By all means, young maiden, come in.” Tamaki-senpai gently grasped her bronze hand, His eyes sparkling in their normal girl-pleasing manner.
She said not a word, letting herself get pulled into this situation.
“You look hungry! Would you like some cake?” Honey-senpai Squealed, unknowingly already eating the cake he promised to her.
“No thank you.” She still stood umvoving.
“Why, then, could we interest you in some one-one one time with the Hitachiin brothers?” Tamaki openly offers their time up for sale, but she simply shook her head negatively. He looked in shock at her refusal, but kept his pretty boy facade stable.
“Ok, How about brunch with our resident foreigner, Haruhi? Y’know, she just joined a few months ago and is quite the character,” Winking, he stated his offer like a real business owner.
Haruhi was already far over the whole situation.
“Senpai, I don't think she wants to-” Again, her words were cut short by the unrelenting energy of Tamaki Suoh.
“Hm. Ok. What's your name? If I get to know you better, I'll know better who would be a match for you!” His hands clasped together at his breakthrough.
“My name is,” She started, but did not finish.
“Azra Kawashima.” Kyoya stated her name, informally.
“Yes, it is.” Azra bowed deeply, and made eye contact with The tall, dark man who hadn't spoken until this point.
“Only child of Akako Kawashima and Jakob Kawahima, both CEOs of the leading secretary organizations of Japan and South Germany.” He pleasantly said, Writing onto his black book of who-knows-what.
“You are quite correct.” She smiled robotically, showing no emotion. “May I ask how you know so much about me?” Although already knowing the answer, she turned to face Kyoya-Senapi.
“I know much about the important people in this school, though, it perplexes me why you are here at such an establishment as this?” His used his most proper words talking to a person the rest of the club had yet to be properly introduced to.
“Well it shouldn't be, Ootori. This has become quite the club over these past couple of months. I'm sure your father is over the moon at your success! ” She smiled with her eyes, but her lips did not follow her fake glee.
“Please, call me Kyoya.”
“You two know each other? Kyoya-Senpai seems kind of mad, and Azra is… Scary.” Haruhi squeaked out, her and the other club members cowering in the corner, Mori-Senpai emotionless behind them all.
“Oh my. I didn't mean to come off as rude! Excuse me.” She smiled and tilted her head to the side, closing her eyes.
“What could we help you with?” He silently cast a dark magic spell with his smile, as he does regularly.
“Well,” she turned back to the bulk of the people, more specifically, Tamaki.
“I would like to be your new Manager.”
Eerie Silence settled over the room like the most terrifying blanket. But, in a Crack, It was broken.
-11 years ago-
I had finally finished it. My pride and joy, the one thing I had locked myself up in my room for months and toiled over to finish.
My Science analytics report on the growth of a Ghost Orchid. My parents had paid so much money to get me that plant and what I needed to make it grow and thrive, and were expecting something phenomenal for my project. And I was set on giving them everything they wanted and more. Not a letter was out of place, not a circle uneven, not an imperfectly squared corner in sight. My parents were always fickle about what I did, living up to my older brother was a task set upon me at such a young age. They made sure all of their children were the epitome of perfection, and their technique for achieving this perfection was to dangle the eldest sons’ success over all of our heads, like a carrot on a stick. And I fell hook, line, and sinker.
With pride I strided to class that day, my project board under both of my arms, and my perfectly organized flash cards tucked away neatly in my luxury backpack. I knew my parents had cleared out a small amount of time in their schedules to see me present my project, and that hour of time seemed larger than life to me. It was my time to shine. My time to show that, even if i can't be leader of a company, i can be a good daughter.
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My father ripped the board in half over his knee. My mother screamed abuses at me in front of the entire school. All my friends saw the humiliating situation I was in. It felt as if I could hear and my entire world crumbled around my feet. All my hard work, destroyed. All my Confidence in myself shattered. But all I could do was hang my head low in shame, and let my silent tears drop from my hot cheeks to the shiny cafeteria floors. The Laughter of all my classmates rang in my head like a siren too close to your ears. The one thing I saw through my blurry tear-filled vision was a boy, the same age as me it seemed. His board was just like mine. He had my same shaped glasses. Kyoya, from the other class. Seemingly, the only difference between the two of us is that his dad gave him a strong pat on his back, just for trying his best.
That's all I ever wanted, and all I ever dreamed about. I just wanted appreciation, if only an ounce. But my parents held a level of acceptable things, and what I did was everything but. I wasted their time, I heard. Waste of Money, my father rebuked.
Perfect. I need to be perfect. I need to show them that I can be a good Daughter, and From that day forward, I chased after the promise of affection from my own parents, the painful pang of memories past branded in my memories.
-End of Trauma Flashback-
The entire Host Club erupted in laughter. Hollers and Cackles echoed throughout the mostly empty music room. Even Kyoya spared himself a sly smile of pride that she would offer such a preposterous idea. Azra kept her stoic Facade on her face, clenching her teeth at the members laughing around her.