Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ Curse of the 'Flu ❯ From Glad Rags to Worse ( Chapter 6 )

CHAPTER VI: “From Glad Rags to Worse”

 

Hikaru tried to be supportive - he wanted to be supportive - but if he didn't escape from this duvet soon, he would definitely die from asphyxiation! Sure, he thought, aching to explode, hosting alone would be a blow because neither he nor his brother had ever hosted alone; yet the idea of Kaoru behaving like - being the wife of - hosting with Kyouya as - was just too - too - was just too -

Birds flee neighbouring trees.

`Finished?' said Kaoru.

Hikaru's shoulders shook a trifle longer. `When are you - when are you meant to practice your - your routine, then?' His shoulders started shaking again; his brother looked blank.

`Tomorrow morning,' said Kaoru.

`Oh yeah…?'

A few pillows were thrown.

`So how was your date with Haruhi?'

The pillows were thrown back. `It was okay.'

`Just okay?'

 

Picture Haruhi knocking at the bedroom door.

 

Picture Haruhi coming in and saying…

 

Kaoru flicked Hikaru's nose.

`Maybe more than okay,' answered Hikaru, smiling shyly.

`I'm happy to hear that…'

`Are you?'

Kaoru glanced up. `What do you mean?'

 

 

The Man-and-Wife Routine; proposed by Tamaki Suoh; yesterday afternoon; two-thousand-and-zero-something; Kyouya as Man; Kaoru as Wife; Tamaki as Priest.

`Why do you get to be Priest?'

`Because I'm the President of the Host Club.'

`I don't think that's a reason.'

`You know, Kaoru, you're beginning to sound more and more like your brother. At this rate, you never know: one day, we may all cease to tell the difference and then where would you find yourself?'

`…what exactly is this idiot saying?'

`Tamaki, just sit down and watch.'

`Yes Mom…'

`Now you remember what we rehearsed?'

Kaoru nodded. `I remember.'

Three.

Two.

One.

`Sweetheart, I'm home.'

Kyouya wore the suit of a businessman, easy to obtain from his personal wardrobe. The suit consisted of a black jacket and crisply pressed trousers with a dark metallic tie.

`How was your day?'

Kaoru's outfit belonged to his mother and was borrowed from her unreleased summer collection, silk tank top with frills (like the bathing suit for Haruhi) and a linen skirt - both light green to set off his hair.

`It was interesting…' Kaoru entered Kyouya's embrace, leaning head on chest. `Though not as interesting as you,' murmured Kyouya, stroking Kaoru's BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP Tamaki wades through letters and waves aside question marks.

`CUT! Cut, cut, cut, cut, CUT!'

`What?' said Kaoru; annoyed.

`That was PERFECT!'

`Good,' said Kyouya, releasing Kaoru, `because I'm not doing that again.'

`You will! You shall!'

Kaoru-shaped hole in the universe.

`I want my clothes back.'

Tamaki wagged his finger at Kaoru's upturned palm. `You were stupendous,' he insisted in a scary, gleeful voice, `STUPENDOUS.'

`Clothes, please,' repeated Kaoru, `right now.'

`But you're still wearing them…'

`These clothes are a costume. Now where are my clothes? Where did you put my clothes?'

Tick tock.

Tick tock.

Tick tock.

Tick.

`Mom, have you seen her clothes?'

 

 

His clothes do not show up. So angry is Kaoru that offers of help from both Tamaki and Kyouya result in him storming out of the Suoh mansion - dressed like a woman. His wallet is missing. His mobile is absent. He kicks pebbles all the way down the expensively laid drive. Servants, who see him so incensed, endeavour to stay out of her way; though not before an extract of her utter rage is heard in between the impact of pebbles:

`…cannot believe this… do not believe this… stranded in the middle of nowhere with no money, no contacts… just like that time we went to the commoner's department store… except it was Kyouya, not-'

The mere mention of the bastard!

`…certainly the VICE-president… bet he's enjoying this… why has he got it in for me all of a sudden… why… why?'

A car is coming. Kaoru has seen this done in a film. According to Tamaki, commoners favour the outstretched arm and upright thumb as a means of gaining transport when abandoned hundreds of miles from civilisation. However, there is no way that Kaoru will heed such advice after what Tamaki and Kyouya have done, there is absolutely no-

`Looking for a ride?'

Kaoru blinks at the driver, whose window is wound down as he smokes a cigarette and looks expectant. Slivers of smoke snake their flimsy roots up into the cloudy sky. It looks like it's going to rain.

A quick survey of the driver and his vehicle tell Kaoru two things: both are poor and both are also the lone example of human compassion and generosity travelling down this unfrequented stretch of road - and it's going to rain.

Kaoru smiles sweetly. `How did you know?' The sky rumbles, as if impatient. Could Kaoru really afford to wait? He smiles again and accepts. Fifteen minutes, he thinks: that is all - what is fifteen minutes in the car of a commoner?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3