Disclaimer: If I owned Ouran High School Host Club, it'd be pretty damn obvious that I wouldn't be posting this on a fanfic site.
Hello, there! If I have managed to grab your attention, that actually means quite a bit to me. This is my first fanfiction story for OHSHC, so you may have to bear with me for me to get the Host Club's personalities in order. I know it's not perfect, nor will it ever be, but I hope they aren't too horribly portrayed. :)
Now, I know you're here to read the story, so I won't waste your time any longer. I hope you enjoy the first chapter of "Bound to You" (title subject to change - if it does, I will put it in the summary)!
"Oh, my gods, I think it's her!"
"It is her! The famous singer!"
"What's she doing here? I thought she had moved to America for good..."
"No, you idiot – she was just touring there."
"For seven years?"
"I wonder if she'll give out autographs!"
"Why don't you go ask?"
Tsukiko (better known as Tsuki) Nakamura sighed, realizing that any possibility of a peaceful entrance into the school had been demolished. She knew that she couldn't have expected to sit in the courtyard, leaned against a tree, without any ruckus being created. She had simply hoped that, amongst the so-called "elite" students, she would not be treated any differently than a new girl at the school. Her quiet morning ended, she slowly opened her eyes and pushed herself off the ground, barely pausing to brush the grass off the skirt of her dress before she scooped up her bag and proceeded up the walkway. She was not impolite to the students – in fact, she held her head high and smiled warmly, nodding at the groups she passed by. It was not in her nature to be mean to anyone, and it was no one else's fault but hers for being a famous singer at her young age. Actually if anything bothered her about her current position, it was that none of the students had the guts to approach her, though all of them stared at her with awestruck expressions.
However, she did not allow herself to release the pent-up sigh until she entered the school, which was mostly barren except for two stray students down the hallway. However, they seemed rather preoccupied, so she was allowed to lean her back against the door frame and relax for a moment. She let her head fall back so she could gaze up at the ceiling, relishing in the silence that filled the corridors. It crossed her mind that what she was doing was a mistake (in fact, it had crossed her mind at least four other times in the past hour – and way too many in the past week in which everything had been processed) but it wasn't like she could turn back now – she was there, and there she was going to stay. "There" being one of the most prestigious high schools in Japan: Ouran Academy. She sighed, pushing a hand through her brown locks as she pushed away the reason she had been sent there in the first place; it wasn't something she really wanted to think about.
Pushing off the wall, Tsuki started walking, knowing she had roughly an hour to get to her classroom – and she had no clue where to even start looking. No one had thought through the fact that she would probably need a tour of the school, in order to find out how to get around to at least the most basic areas. So what better way to get acquainted with it than by roaming around the school in order to get her bearings? Pulling a folded piece of paper out of her satchel, she glanced down at it to figure out what room she was supposed to be looking for, anyway. She figured that if she really needed to find the cafeteria or anything else (and she didn't find it when she was searching for her classroom), she could ask one of the students – after all, any of them would be willing to help her. Refolding and replacing the "schedule" she had been given (honestly, she didn't know how they could call the piece of paper a schedule when she stayed in the same room all day except for lunch and a physical education class – back in America she changed classes seven times a day, sometimes eight).
Thus, with at least a direction to go by, the famous Tsuki Nakamura set off up a set of stairs, figuring they had to lead her somewhere.
"Oh, come on!" I complained as I walked into yet another corridor that led me absolutely nowhere. I was utterly lost; I had run into so many "dead end" hallways that I honestly couldn't remember which way I had come in the first place. Groaning, I made a half-hearted attempt to get myself out of the mass maze I was in and find a main corridor – or even a staircase or window. I knew almost immediately that I took a wrong turn, so I moved back to the hallway I had turned off from and looked around to see if there was any way for me to figure out how I had gotten there. Sighing heavily, I continued to walk, taking any branch I could find that I thought would lead me back to one of the main corridors. After I had wasted another few minutes, I resorted to one of the last things I knew to do: I pulled out my cell phone and dialed the number for one of my old friends. I didn't expect the boy to answer, so when I heard my friend's voice – obviously confused – I sighed in relief.
"Shi-bear, I'm lost in your school," I mumbled, feeling embarrassed and like a little child. "I'm somewhere on the second floor..."
There was a long pause before the male spoke, "I'm on my way. Sing for me."
"But—" I started to speak, but the beeping of an ended call reached my ears before I could finish saying that I didn't want to attract anyone's attention. Frowning, I slid to the floor, flipped my cell phone shut, and closed my eyes. Leaning back against the stone wall, I started singing, just as I had been told.
"Where have all good men gone
And where are all the gods?
Where's the street-wise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?
Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and turn and dream of what I need
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light
He's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life, larger than life
Somewhere after midnight
In my wildest fantasy
Somewhere just beyond my reach
There's someone reaching back for me
Racing on the thunder and rising with the heat
It's gonna take a superman to sweep me off my feet
Up where the mountains meet the heavens above
Out where the lightning splits the sea
I could swear there is someone somewhere
Through the wind and the chill and the rain
And the storm and the flood
I can feel his approach
Like a fire in my blood
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
And he's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life
Oh, he's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight
I need a hero!"
A chuckle that was so familiar but so unfamiliar at the same time rang out in the silent hallway. "Wow, Kiki. Of all songs, you choose one from Shrek 2?(1) You haven't changed a bit," the male teased.
I smiled, pushing myself up to my feet and slowly opening my eyes to reveal the sparkling green irises. "Hiroshi-kun..." I sighed, a sigh that held a wealth of emotion. I was able to ignore all the other students who had come looking for the source of the music, was able to ignore everything but the black-haired boy before me. A slow smile curved my lips – a sad yet happy smile – and then I was running and jumping at the boy. He caught me easily, as if it hadn't been seven years since he last did it, and swung me around before hugging me closely to him. "I missed you," I whispered into his shoulder, trying to hold back tears.
Hiroshi chuckled, planting a kiss on the top of my head as he replied, "I missed you, too, Kiki." He slowly pulled back from me, seeing that I was still composed, and then let me go so I could step back. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming home?"
I couldn't tell him the truth, not yet, and so I lied. "I wanted to surprise you, Shi-bear. Of course, this wasn't what I had in mind," I muttered, motioning around us. I wasn't exactly talking about the plethora of students since that had been bound to happen anyway, which was why I hoped he knew that I hadn't expected to be calling him because I had gotten lost.
"Eh, it's like old times, ne?" Hiroshi answered, grinning as he ruffled my hair. "You getting lost and calling me to give you directions. Though I can't believe you didn't ask someone to tell you how to get to your classroom. You're going to make a lot of people late now, and they won't have an excuse."
"Excuse me?" I questioned, raising my eyebrows. "Last I checked, you were the one who told me to sing, so I think that makes you the reason people are late. I'd suggest you start apologizing now because it's going to take a while."
Hiroshi studied me before he chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, come on, like any of them would blame you in the first place. Besides, most teachers are probably expecting your arrival, so the tardiness of their students should not factor into our problems."
I laughed, shaking my head incredulously. How had I lived without this boy for so long? "I love how you come up with that idea after your scrawny butt gets put on the line," I teased, winking at him slyly.
Hiroshi sighed melodramatically. "You are so cruel, Kiki." Then he suddenly grinned, wagging his brows at me. "Wait, you've been looking at my butt?"
I halfheartedly hit him on the arm as I walked past him, finding a slight amusement in the way all the students moved aside and started whispering amongst themselves. It was actually rather easy to find my way back to the main corridor of the second floor since the students were lined up that way.
"See, you didn't need me at all, Kiki. The students could have helped you out of here," Hiroshi teased, earning a narrowed glance his way. "You haven't changed a bit. What classroom are you supposed to be in?"
"Hm? Oh, I know where that room is. I was trying to find the restroom," I answered, feeling my face flush slightly in embarrassment.
"Why didn't you say so? The restroom is the other way," Hiroshi grumbled, hooking his arm around mine to lead me in the opposite direction.
"H-hey, stop it!" I exclaimed, pulling my arm away from his. "I don't have to go right now; it was just in case I did need to."
Hiroshi looked like he wanted to faceplant like they did in those animes he and I used to constantly watch, but he kept himself composed (though he did give me a look that showed he was questioning my intelligence) and proceeded to walk to the classroom I was supposed to be in. After they arrived, he looked at me and smiled sadly. "I'm sorry you and I aren't in the same class, but I'll definitely see you at lunch, and if you can find your way to the front courtyard after school lets out, we can walk to this café I know and catch up there."
I smiled and nodded. "Sounds like a plan, Shi-bear." Hiroshi smiled back and pulled me into a hug once again, kissing my temple, before he released me and sauntered off to his own classroom. Expelling a heavy sigh, I turned around and composed myself before I walked into classroom 2A.
This time, rather than an empty classroom, I found myself facing a room almost entirely full of students (I assumed some of them had gone to listen to my singing) with a teacher standing at the front desk, obviously irritated about something. I moved the strap on my bag higher up on my shoulder, feeling rather self-conscious, and approached the teacher.
The teacher looked up at me and smiled brightly, her cerulean eyes glowing. "Good morning, Tsukiko. It's a pleasure to meet you and have you here at Ouran Academy. My name is Ishii Mitsune," the blonde woman introduced herself.
"It's nice to meet you, too, Ms. Ishii, and I am glad to be here," I answered back just as warmly, even though I wasn't sure about the latter half of my statement. Then, I added, "Also, I prefer to go by Tsuki, if that's all right."
Ms. Ishii's smile widened, and she nodded before she looked away from me to speak to another student. "Kyoya, would you please come up here?"
I looked at the students to see all of them looking at me, so it wasn't until a black-haired boy set down the book he was holding, stood, and walked towards us that I knew who "Kyoya" was. As he approached, I found myself noticing small things about him. He had a rather elegant gait, and his skin looked fair, though a little on the pale side (but he didn't look sickly). His black hair was a little on the short side, his bangs hanging slightly in his face but not enough to obscure his vision – which would have been humorous since he was already wearing glasses to aid his vision impairment. It wasn't until he was directly in front of us that I could see his eyes – a fairly dark shade of gray. His face wasn't very warm or friendly as he looked at me and then at the teacher, but there was something about it that was actually appealing. I wasn't prone to notice the attractive features of a male, but there was something about him that was very captivating.
"Tsuki, this is Ootori Kyoya," Ms. Ishii introduced, and I had to make myself not blink in surprise. Was it really going to be that easy – and was all this a coincedence, or was it my father's doing? "Kyoya, this is Nakamura Tsuki. She's our new transfer student. Since you're our class representative, I was hoping you would help her for the first few days so she can adjust, considering she came from America."
Kyoya bowed politely with an, "Of course, Ms. Ishii." He then turned to me, offering a polite smile that didn't reach his eyes. "If you would follow me." The black-haired boy returned to his seat where the blonde who was seated in the desk behind his abruptly jumped up and took my hand, placing a light kiss on the back of it.
"Please excuse my friend, my beautiful princess. He does not always show the proper respect for a lady like yourself," the blonde spoke dramatically, flashing a dazzling smile at me as his blue eyes sparkled. He was more tan than his black-haired friend, and though he was handsome, he wasn't so much attractive to me as he was cute. With this one, it was an immediate "friend zone" since he reminded me a lot of an excited puppy – possibly a golden retriever.
"And you are...?" I queried, raising my brows at him and showing him I wasn't the least bit fazed by his attentions.
"Suoh Tamaki, at your service!" the blonde exclaimed gallantly, bowing low.
I pulled my hand from his and turned to Kyoya, who was the exact opposite of Tamaki in every way. "You two are friends?" I couldn't help the incredulity that crept into my voice, and I almost felt bad since Tamaki seemed to wilt. Even so, I still looked at him and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, Suoh-kun, but there is a distinct difference in the two of you, particularly with the warmth you possess and that he lacks." Looking back at Kyoya, I made an assumption, "Formalities come easily to you, I suppose, Ootori-san. Most people probably don't even notice the difference between the polite smile you give them over a real one." Kyoya's eyes, if possible, only hardened more, and I simply shrugged. "There is no need to look at me like that, Ootori-san. I am simply making an observation; I am not saying anything against you, particularly since I do not know the reasoning behind your personality."
"Hm. You addressed Kyoya as 'Ootori-san,' but addressed me as 'Suoh-kun.' Why is that?" Tamaki questioned, genuinely interested (and possibly confused).
"Oh, I apologize for the presumption, but I did not think you would mind. If you would prefer, I can—" I didn't finish my statement because of the surprise I felt with how Tamaki's eyes were glistening in what looked like could be tears. Had I offended him in some way?
I yelped in surprise as I was suddenly jerked into a tight (as well as awkward) embrace, hearing Tamaki's voice going off into an excited rant – half Japanese, half French. I understood all of it, even though the only relevant piece of information was that he was perfectly happy with my calling him "Suoh-kun," even though he wouldn't care if I called him Tamaki. Considering I didn't know him very well (or at all), I thought calling him by his first name might anger some people and decided it'd be best to just call him "Suoh-kun" and leave it at that for now. "Uh, Suoh-kun, do you mind releasing me? This isn't very comfortable for me," I spoke up, but he didn't hear me. "Suoh-kun?" I tried again, a little louder.
"Tamaki," Kyoya snapped, and the blonde shut up and looked over at the black-haired boy. "She wants you to shut up and let go of her."
Tamaki looked down at me for confirmation, and I nodded. "I have this concept called personal space, and you have obliterated it." Thus, Tamaki proceeded to release me and apologize multiple times. I sighed heavily and looked over at Kyoya. "Ootori-san, does he not have an 'off' button?"
Kyoya looked up from his notebook he was writing in and glanced at Tamaki, who was ranting once more, before looking at me, not saying a word. The blank look in his eyes gave me enough information to know he wasn't going to answer my question, so I sighed and instead asked a different one. "Am I supposed to sit here, or will I need to find a different seat?" I motioned to the seat to his right.
The response was ambiguous, and I found myself gritting my teeth, my eyes narrowing slightly.
And that was when Kyoya Ootori first smirked at me. (2)
Three hours later, we had a short break before our fourth class started (after which we had lunch). I found that I enjoyed the ten-minute break in between classes where the teachers switched rooms, rather than the students. I also liked the fifty-minute classes with the ten minutes in between, since that seemed to work well. Not to mention, the teachers didn't waste any time with the lessons and would go at a pace where it wasn't hard to write down what was being lectured.
However, since I had just transferred, I was slightly behind the rest of the class, which was why I turned in my seat to look at the two males in the row beside mine. Kyoya was reading and trying to ignore Tamaki – who was chattering nonstop, like he had the past two breaks – and I decided to give Kyoya a break. "Suoh-kun?" I questioned, reaching a hand out to touch his arm.
Tamaki stopped talking and turned to look at me, beaming as he took my hand in his. "Yes, my beautiful princess?"
I felt my eye twitch, but I decided to ignore his weird nickname for me. For now. Instead of gritting my teeth like I wanted to, I smiled at him. "Could you maybe explain the prose analysis we did in class today? I got lost with how Mr. Kobayashi was explaining it."
Tamaki's face lit up, and he immediately launched into his own explanation. "Of course! You understood what he meant by the big picture, right? The first paragraph is where you describe what the piece of prose means and is trying to say – the big picture. And then the following paragraphs are where you talk about how the writer describes the big picture, as in the techniques he uses. For example, in class today we just listed some possibilities for what could be used in the analysis, rather than really writing the analysis. We only said some of the really easy ones – like imagery, symbolism, and metaphor – but there were also some more insightful techniques, like... oh, parallelism! That's where a story can be interpreted two different ways since the real meaning is overshadowed by the symbolic meaning. And then there's the syntax, which is the wording that he used. Oh, and synecdoche – where the writer uses sentences that are a lot alike to create a pattern!" Tamaki looked like he was really getting into it, but he had already gotten way too far ahead of what I wanted to know, and I was completely lost with the techniques he was talking about.
Apparently he didn't even know what he was talking about because Kyoya suddenly announced, "Tamaki, don't start spouting off nonsense. All you're going to do is confuse her."
Tamaki pouted, looking over at Kyoya, "But I thought I was doing a good job..."
Kyoya sighed, obviously trying to look for patience in dealing with his blonde friend. Standing, he moved to stand in front of my desk, not even asking for permission before he opened my binder and pulled out the piece of prose from the prior class. "I don't have enough time to explain it to you right now, but I can at least correct what Tamaki has told you," the black-haired boy told me, starting to write down some information on my paper. "If you have time this evening, we can arrange a place to meet so that I can help you. If you do not, I can ask Mr. Kobayashi if we can be excused during class, and we can go to the library so I can discuss it with you."
I blinked up at him, rather shocked that he was willing to set aside time to help me. Though it would have been better for us to meet outside of school and not during class, I didn't know how long Hiroshi would keep me, and I also didn't know who all would be there with us – and then there was the problem of my not having spoken to my father since I arrived. "Actually, Ootori-san, I already have plans. I just got here late last night, so my father has not seen me," I explained carefully, worrying my lower lip between my teeth.
"If it cannot be avoided, then we will simply have to take time out of class tomorrow," Kyoya stated, not even looking up from the piece of paper on which he was so vigorously writing. After another moment, he looked up at me and turned the paper around, pointing down to where he had written. I noticed he'd written the three techniques that Tamaki had tried to explain to me, as well as a fourth one that I hadn't heard. "First – and Tamaki, you better listen as well – parallelism is where several words, sentences, or paragraphs are structured in the same, repetitive way to help the writer get his point across in a more precise way." He looked up at me for confirmation, and I nodded – this made a lot more sense than what Tamaki had told me. "What Tamaki described is an allegory." Here, Kyoya pointed to the fourth word – the one I hadn't known. "An allegory is where someone uses a symbolical narrative or story to help the reader understand the literal meaning underneath the symbolical one."
"This already makes a lot more sense," I sighed in relief. "I understand the roots of most words, but since I learned them in the United States, it's rather difficult to break them down in Japanese, especially when I'm reading kanji." I was surprised that I admitted that so easily, and when I didn't hear anything from Kyoya or Tamaki, I looked up.
Kyoya was studying me, his face void of emotion, and Tamaki was frowning. I opened my mouth to say something to them when Kyoya spoke, "Tamaki should be able to help you with reading kanji and interpreting the differences. He came here from France a couple years ago and has a very good grasp on it – surprisingly well, considering every other nonsensical information he spouts." Though Kyoya didn't show it, there was a slight touch of amusement to his tone, something I could detect from years of singing. I heard Tamaki start to complain, but Kyoya ignored him. "Syntax is the pattern in which sentences and phrases are presented. This is commonly mistaken for diction, so I would suggest keeping away from using syntax as your technique unless it's poetry analysis." He paused, observing me to see if I had understood.
"That's good to know. And I do know what diction is, so don't worry about explaining that," I told him, smiling.
Kyoya simply nodded before he moved onto the last word. "And synecdoche," – Kyoya emphasized the last syllable, saying "kee" instead of "ch" like Tamaki had earlier – "is when a word or phrase expresses more or less than it literally means. For example, when people say 'steel' for a 'sword,' or when people exaggerate by saying 'the whole world hates him' when they really mean only that part of the world hates him."
"Oh! Like how people used to refer to the Soviet Union as Russia since it was the biggest part of the Soviet Union?" I inquired, cocking my head.
Kyoya actually looked shocked for a total of two seconds before he nodded. "Yes. Like that."
I grinned and nodded. "Thank you very much, Ootori-san. This has been very helpful. So we will try to discuss the actual meaning of prose analysis tomorrow?" Kyoya made a noise in agreement before he moved back to his seat.
I glanced at Tamaki to see him grinning at me. "What?"
"You surprised him," Tamaki answered, not caring to elaborate as he moved back to his own seat. I would have asked him to explain what was so great about that, but that was when our next teacher came in and told everyone to be seated.
Frowning, I glanced over at Kyoya in curiosity. What was so amazing about me knowing that?
And why was it such a big deal that I had surprised him, anyway?
"Kiko-chan!" The exclamation caused me to turn around in the cafeteria, which caused Tamaki to stop walking as well (while Kyoya just headed off to his table).
"Princess?" the blonde questioned, but I didn't answer him as I looked around for the voice of the male who had called out for me. It wasn't Hiroshi's voice, but I knew it very distinctly. I just couldn't place i-
I yelped as I was suddenly pulled back into someone, his arms circling my waist. I knew who it was instantly, and I didn't turn around because I was too busy trying to make sure I didn't drop my lunch. "T-Tamotsu, let go of me!"
I was released almost immediately, and a pouting face appeared in front of mine. "But Kiko-chan..."
"We missed you." The second voice was a female's, and it came from my left.
"I missed you guys, too, but I didn't need you to pull me into you, Momo," I directed at the boy before I looked at the girl. "And I didn't need you to breathe all over my ear, Mimi."
It was then that I heard Tamaki speak, "Who are these two, princess?"
I suddenly had a headache, and I sighed heavily before I explained. "These two are my friends Tamotsu and Emiko from when I was younger. They're brother and sister, one year apart." I looked at the boy and girl, who looked different mostly because of the lengths of their hair. Emiko had waist-length, blonde hair while her brother Tamotsu had short blonde hair; both had hazel eyes. The only other difference was around their eyes and the formations of their chins – Emiko had her father's eyes and chin while Tamotsu had his mother's eyes and chin. "We nicknamed them Momo and Mimi because they liked how there was only a slight difference in their names then."
It was then that Emiko seemed to have an epiphany, for she snapped her fingers and exclaimed, "Oh, I know you! You're Suoh Tamaki," – Tamaki beamed in delight – "that guy who runs that Host Club that leads on girls or makes them go crazy over the homosexual tendencies between some of the hosts." Tamaki suddenly deflated, and I almost felt bad for him, though I had to admit it did sound rather racey, especially for a private school in Japan.
"Host Club?" I questioned, cocking my head at my two friends. I suddenly remembered that was the wrong thing to do with those two around, for they suddenly squealed about how cute I looked and hugged me at the same time. "Guys, get off me." They didn't (of course) and simply continued to coo over me while Tamaki stayed in his depressed state.
"Momo, Mimi, let go of Tsuki." Hiroshi came to my rescue just in time, and I turned around to smile warmly at him. "I see you've made a friend already, eh? Tamaki's not as bad as Mimi tries to make him sound. The Host Club is actually comprised of some nice guys, though many of the guys here hate it since the girls all fawn over them." Hiroshi grinned at me. "You should check it out tomorrow after school. Who knows, maybe you'll become a regular."
I blinked and cocked my head at Hiroshi's words. It sounded like there was a hidden meaning behind them, but I wasn't given a chance to think about it because the tray I was carrying was suddenly taken from me, and I was dragged away by Emiko and Tamotsu to their usual table with Hiroshi trailing behind us, Tamaki completely forgotten in his "depressed" state.
(1) I'm not going to lie - this was the hardest part (aside from the title) for me in this whole chapter. I needed a song, and the first one I had here was "Field of Innocence" by Evanescence; it seemed to be too mature for her (at least for the moment) and thus I spent hours looking for a replacement. This is what occurred, mainly because I thought it would be a humorous way to get back at her friend. And if you guys are wondering, there will not be anything romantic between her and Hiroshi. Just heading that off before I get questions. All the OC's introduced already have pre-destined boyfriends/girlfriends, and Tsukiko is not going to be involved with anyone who is not a host. 'Nuff said. d;
(2) The infamous smirk. I would totally count these if I were Tsuki, but since I'm not - she's only going to notice the first one. But I felt Kyoya would smirk there, considering he's already found something to make the new girl tick, which means he can add it to his little notebook.
Now, there's a scene during their break where Kyoya offers to help Tsuki with her schoolwork - I figured this would be okay considering it is her first day, and it will reflect on him if the teachers asked him to help her if she needed it. Therefore, he's going to explain some stuff to Tsuki very rarely (mainly just on poetry and prose) until she can learn the Japanese language better. After all, she did spend seven years in America for the more in-depth vocabulary, so Japanese isn't really her strongest point.
Thus ends the first chapter! You won't see anything of these boys again until the third chapter, which is where the Host Club should come in. If they don't, you can surely count on them being in the fourth one. After all, there are two very important people for her to meet. :)
So - review if you want (criticism is always welcome) and keep an eye out for the second chapter! Thank you for reading!