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Yawning, I walked out of the changing room. Today was an Arabian styled dress up, I was wearing a really long skirt like thing and sandals along with a piece of cloth slung over my right shoulder that draped down mid calf on both sides of my body, it was held in place by a rope belt (I wasn't too happy about the lack of shirt I was provided with but whatever floats Tamaki's boat I suppose). Takashi had the same outfit, but I refused to wear the hat. I just had my hair cut, I wasn't going to go mess it up because someone wanted me to wear a hat.

It's getting warmer so getting comfortable outside has become pretty difficult to nap. I need to find somewhere inside to get comfortable.

"Welcome to the Ouran Host Club," we all greeted as the door opened to reveal a young boy dressed in green with dark hair and eyes. He looked at us pretty startled and tumbled to the floor in shock.

"Oh. It's just a kid," Hikaru commented.

"Not only that, it's just a boy," Kaoru added on.

Yes. We can see that. We all have eyes.

"What's wrong little boy? Did you come to my palace in search of something?" Tamaki asked. I sighed and stretched again.

"I'm going to sit down," I announced before walking away from the group and heading to a table, I happily flopped down on one of the sofas and let out a yawn. If this keeps up, I won't be able to stay awake in the afternoon classes.

"Uh-- a-are you the king of this place?" the boy asked. Oh no. You just fed his ego, kid. Nice going.

"Ah," was all he got in response from Tamaki.

"Well? Are you?" the boy asked in slight impatience.

"Come closer, lost one," Tamaki seemed to manage to get his words out without being egotistical, however, he's speaking like some kind of medieval king, stop that. It's weird.

"What was it you just called me, little boy?" he asked once the boy had reached the group of hosts.

I believe it was the 'king'. I mean-- Kyoya introduced you as that when I started here but it doesn't mean you're actually a king, Tamaki dumbass.

"The king," the boy repeated earning an overdramatic performance form Tamaki.

"Oh the king! Yes! I am the king of the Ouran Host Club! Long live the host king~" he exclaimed, twirling around weirdly, I swore, if I looked close enough, there were stars shining brightly in his eyes. Narcissist.

"I'm an elementary fifth year, Shiro Takaoji!" the boy introduced himself before pointing at Tamaki, "I want the host club king to take me on as an apprentice."

I choked on the coffee I'd began drinking, coughing violently along with the mixture of laughs at the dumbfounded faces of the host club.

"You want Tamaki to.." I couldn't even finish my sentence because the idea of Tamaki teaching someone something had me in fits of laughter, "oh no, child.. that's a... bad idea."

"Hey! That's mean, y/n!" Tamaki shouted at me before looking at Shiro with his 'suave' look, "I'll take you on gladly!"

"You're so going to regret this," I sighed before Kyoya ordered us to all change into our uniforms again, he and I were the last ones to change because there aren't enough changing rooms for us all to change at once.

I sighed as I grabbed my school shirt, the curtain separating me and Kyoya lifted up, he was stood there with calculating eyes.

"You know, you're making a bad habit out of this," I teased before going to slip the shirt on, he stopped me before I could swing it around to my other arm, "uh-- Kyoya?"

"You're bruise seems to be getting worse," he observed before pulling out what looked like a tub of cream, but it had no label, I don't trust it, "let me put some of this on. It will speed up your recovery rate and reduce the bruising."

"I think I'm good,"  I replied, waving him off and going to put my other arm through my shirt, this time he grabbed my wrist and held it tightly, his eyes burning through my own.

"It's not a request," he told me before forcing me to my knees and taking his position behind me. I guess I have no choice but to listen. I don't like being bossed around like this.

Seconds later coldness hits my back and causes me to pull away from him, he grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back in place.

"Stop squirming," he ordered, his voice icy cold as if in moments it would suddenly snow. Well at least I'd be able to nap outside again.

"How often do you work out?" he asked.

"Why'd you want to know?" I asked him, staring at his reflection skeptically.

"I'm just curious," he stated, "you have more muscle than most of the athletic people I've met. Not to mention, it's more visible on you than it is Mori senpai and Honey senpai."

Ok. 

I can't decide whether that's weird or not. Is it a compliment?

"I have no idea what you're getting at, but I... had a problem during the months before I started attending here and really built up," I replied. 

Yeah... I was fighting from dusk till dawn. I managed to get home everyday without an injury, you know how hard a feat that is? It took a lot of evasive movements and getting in the first punch. Usually they say, those who attack first lose, but I'm stubborn. I refuse to lose.

"Anger issues?" he asked. I glanced at his reflection again to see him staring right back.

"Who knows," I shrugged, "let's just say I needed one hell of a stress relief."

We stayed in silence for a while...

"Uh-- are you finished?" I asked, obviously breaking Kyoya out of whatever thought stream he was swimming in.

"Ah-- yes, get dressed," he turned and let.

"Yes, mother," I rolled my eyes sarcastically before finally pulling my shirt on completely without any bastards pulling it away or stopping me, "it's just a bruise. Why's he so bothered, huh?"

I found my hand unconsciously placed where my scar on my hip was, though there was material between my fingers and the rough surface, I couldn't help but sigh, the memory of that day hitting me like a ton of bricks.

"Bad memories. Don't go down that lane," I shook myself out of my thoughts and slapped my cheeks before pulling my blazer on and going out to where the rest of the host club were.

My gaze stopped on Shiro.

Poor kid. He's so going to regret this later.

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