W--what? What was this? "N-not you too, Kaa-san?!" Tamaki gasped, clutching his hand to his chest and stumbling away from the black-haired boy on the chair. He could have sworn that a shock had been emitted from the Shadow King as he spoke those words.
Cook? Could he, Tamaki Suoh, cook?! "OF COURSE I CAN COOK!" Tamaki proclaimed magnificently. An unseen orchestra's melody rose into a frantic crescendo as the blonde's emotions reached their peak. The world seemed to spin around Tamaki as his body twisted every-which way to form dramatic poses during his speech. A wave of lush, crimson roses broke and crashed around him.
"Back when I was living in France, when I was only a young little, innocent boy... I lived a simple life with my mother in the rolling green hills of the countryside! She would teach me her wonderful family recipies on days when we had nothing to do but sit and relax around the house!"
At this point, his epic, moving speech paused momentarily as he posed dramatically--a single spotlight illuminating his lonesome, tragic frame. Of course he could cook! It would be an insult to his dear mother if he could not do otherwise. But.. hark?! What was this feeling burrowing itself like a giant arrow fired from Kyouya's harsh bow reading "FAILURE".
Was it... no, it couldn't be... not from Kyouya! This feeling! It could only be.... BETRAYAL!
With a dramatic wail only capable of coming from one such as Tamaki, the Host Club King crumbled dramatically to the floor--forlorn rose petals drifting down around him. The spotlight flickered, then dimmed.
There was too much drama. And it was uncalled for.
“I doubt this,” Kyouya said frightfully dully. “It is my speculation that the only reason your mother took you to the kitchens to cook on those relaxing days was most likely because it wasn’t relaxing. As I imagine, at a young age, before your pianist genius blossomed, you pounded away at the piano and drove your poor mother through all sorts of musical calamities. I believe cooking was an alternative method to expend your ceaseless energy and distract you from the piano and to restore peace to your mother’s head.” He nodded, satisfied and very convinced with this theory.
No one was a genius from the start, and Tamaki’s skills were now so impressive that he didn’t doubt he was perhaps one of thebest, but Kyouya could vividly (much to his chagrin) imagine the hours young Tamaki might have spent banging away before his musical talent had begun to peek through.
Besides, countryside indeed. He knew for a fact that Tamaki’s mother was from a French aristocrat and had maintained that very wealth until a year or so prior to Tamaki’s arrival in Japan. If it was any countryside, it was probably the wealthiest in France.
“Also,” he said, voicing the addition to his thoughts out loud. “There’s no telling if you soaked in your mother’s talent for cooking. Even if you can cook, it doesn’t mean it’s good.” He paused, for a little effect and to give Tamaki a chance to prepare himself. Then he said, “Frankly, I don’t trust your cooking.” He smiled as sincerely as possible. There was no intentional harm meant; he was simply stating the fact and his personal, (painfully) honest opinion.
......And those rose petals were making a mess again. Where was Haruhi?
"I agree, Suoh-san," she replied, though she wasn't sure if her answer was heard before the dramatics (they were rather unnecessary, but rather amusing and endearing none the less) began, the music crescendoed, and the immediate area was covered in rose petals.
What she could gather from the conversation between Tamaki and Kyouya, was that Tamaki was going to insist that the hosts actually cooked. Even if Kyouya didn't believe that Tamaki could manage to make anything edible. She was rather torn on what she thought; on one hand, it was very possible for the blond to have some sort of talent in the kitchen, on the other hand...he could be a walking fire hazard once he got around an oven.
"I suppose we'll see if Suoh-san can really cook or not soon, right, Ootori-san?" Darya asked, hoping to distract the two boys from their argument and cut off another rose petal tornado before Tamaki could get going again. It really was a good thing no one in the room seemed to be allergic to the Host Club King's flower of choice. "Honestly, however, I'm inclined to believe him," she added as an afterthought, mainly just to prod at Kyouya. "It really is a shame you can't have even teams. Isn't it two groups of two and one of three? Maybe you should find someone to help the teams that are short a member?"
“If possible, I’d prefer not to find out,” he said, and honestly did not want to take the risk, at least not without proper supervision. Proper supervision in this case meant a few of Kyouya’s bodyguards and several capable chefs to assist Tamaki silently behind the scenes and to clean up his (most likely countless) mistakes in cookery. Like ninjas. Only sneakier.
He raised an eyebrow at Darya in her proclaim of faith in Tamaki. He resisted the urge to scoff. She didn’t know what she was talking about. Tamaki? Cook? If need be, he had all the school records of Tamaki’s few sophisticated Home Economics classes in France (and what very little of it was taught at Ouran to girl, but that Tamaki took in his erratic curiosity for all things) to show her. They were not bad, but enough to convince her otherwise.
“We could always separate the twins,” Kyouya said thoughtfully, to Darya’s suggestion of evening out the teams, but then realized it wasn’t thoughtful at all. The twins would rather not participate than have one of them kicked off their team. Plus Kyouya would be accused of debauchery. Not that he minded. “Or Haruhi could not participate, as it is she’s the one the entire Bake Off happened in the first place…” at this he considered raising her debt, but that would have been abuse of power.
“I’m sure one of our many personal chefs could fill in the empty spots on Hani-senpai and our team,” he finally decided, as he couldn’t possible think of anyone else he might find helpful enough to include on either team. “Who would we recruit, anyway? Like I said, I doubt any of the almost royalty at this school knows how to cook. Or bake,” he added, suddenly realizing they had been using the wrong term. It was a Bake-Off. Not a Cook-off.
Tamaki latched onto the back of Kyouya's chair, staring at the boy's head fixedly. It was as if he was secretly willing the shadow king to trust his cooking. There was that one time in middle school that the blonde had suggested to cook for Kyouya. The Ootori boy declined politely, but it was still including the point of "I don't want to taste anything you put togeteher". And to think that his best friend was still giving him that attitude... was just a little too much for Tamaki!
And at the suggestion that Haruhi not participate, he was about to readily pounce on the idea. That way, she wouldn't have to spend more time with those unscrupulous twins. That dangerously dynamic duo. Who knows what they could do to his prescious daughter when he was busy concentrating on his cooking?! And to think, if Haruhi didn't participate in the bake-off itself, then she would be able to vote! And of course, she would vote for his cake, right?
"Tamaki-senpai~~" chimed Haruhi in an (uncharacteristically) girly voice--the rose petals flying across the scene. She tucked strands of her short, loose brown hair behind one ear and unconsciously fidgeted with her yellow skirt. "Your cake was really delicious."
"Ah, my prescious little Haruhi! I am so glad that it suited your tastes!" Tamaki took her in his arms, holding her gently--as a propper gentleman should. "I know that you don't like sweet things, but it pleases me so much that you enjoyed my cake out of all of them!"
She smiled and blushed. "Tamaki-senpai..."
"Ahhhhh ♥ that would be wonderful, wouldn't it?" Tamaki muttered to himself, his own eyes watering in an extremely shoujo-fashion as soft pink roses sprouted around him; his cheeks were tinged a similar hue.
Oh, but wait...! What if Haruhi was really, secretly looking forward to doing the bake off? She said that she always enjoyed cooking (why should baking be any different?) If she was unable to compete, it might make her angry. Then again, she might just use the time to not even come to the bake-off and spend it studying. If that was the case, it was highly unlikely that he would be able to see her at all!!
"No!" Tamaki finally said, rising back to his feet. "Haruhi must compete! I don't care if she's on the twins' team, but she is not allowed to miss club activities!" That among other reasons. "We'll just have to make our team larger, right?" His crystal blue eyes rolled slowly over towards Darya. There was a long pause.
Finally... "Kobayashi-san... would you possibly be interested in joining our team? Of course, you can still get a token to vote with if you want to."
Kyouya was beginning to think that if somehow he could record the silly fantasies Tamaki played in his head, and strung them together into a feature film, that it would sell very well. Regular female customers would jump and race to buy the film at once. He knew the ways of the female fandom very well, and he was sure they would love to see Haruhi and Tamaki-given, of course, that they thought Haruhi as a boy. After all, Kasanoda’s previous declaration had radiated a tsunami of squeeling, happy fangirls. Kyouya could just imagine the profit of a Tamaki-Haruhi feature film only too well.
Of course, there would be objections, and possible conflicts in the club between the 2nd years and 1st years (i.e. Club King and Twin Knights)-but that would be dealt with accordingly. And he knew how to deal with everything accordingly.
What he could not deal with, and was taken especially by surprise was Tamaki’s prompt invitation to Darya.
To join their team.
For the first in a very long time, Kyouya did not know what to think.
Darya had been ready to make another suggestion about who to bring in to even out the teams, and how professional chefs wouldn't exactly be fair if the Twins and Haruhi wouldn't have one helping them as well, when Tamaki invited her to join their team. Well, now. That was certainly an idea.
It could either go very well or very badly.
Tamaki she knew she could work with; his exuberance, while something to get used to, made him easy to get along with. Kyouya, though...even if they had made amends (sort of) and had (sort of) agreed to be pleasant to each other, she wasn't sure how being on team with him would work. It wasn't even quite a matter of not arguing, if was a matter of feeling comfortable enough to spend more than a few moments together. There would be planning to do -- probably outside of school hours -- and Tamaki to handle, and, of course, they would have to make something that would win.
But it would be interesting, and Darya would be fooling herself if she couldn't at least mentally admit it sounded like fun. She smiled up at Tamaki, then more uncertainly as she glanced at Kyouya. The worst the bespectacled boy could do would be refuse to let her on the team even if she did say yes.
"I'd love to," she replied, finally, eyes still on Kyouya. It was down to him now, it seemed.
Kyouya inhaled very slowly. There was some sort of pressure pushing heavily down on his shoulders, and he could feel the weight increasing as he glanced back and forth between Tamaki and Darya who were both returning his gaze expectantly; Tamaki had a jubilant, excited look on his face and Darya--Darya.
The name triggered a series of fresh memories, and sped through many many possibilities that could happen if he said yes or if he said know. As his mind was trained to do, he immediately considered the profit, the loss, the benefit, and the worst that could come out of it, but to his bafflement, he could not find an answer.
No, no. Stop. Think again. There was always an answer.
He did think, and this time more calmly, more organized. Finally, exhaling the intake he took moments ago, he looked up to the two of them and attempted a smile. It was difficult to get his mouth to twitch, but once the corners of his lips curved, the smile crept up more smoothly than he expected.
“Well, there are always more than one pair of eyes needed to watch Tamaki in the kitchen,” he said, and that was his answer.
Taking that as a yes, the half-Russian let out a breath she hadn't really realised she had been holding. She hadn't expected Kyouya to agree without further prompting from Tamaki; perhaps his mood wasn't quite as dark as it had been when she had first entered the music room. He was even smiling, though whether or not it was a sincere smile or not Darya wasn't sure. It suited him better than a scowl -- not that she cared that Kyouya was smiling at her in the first place.
"I'm sure we can keep Tamaki out of trouble," Darya replied, laughter warming her voice. It was odd to use the term 'we' to be referring to herself and Kyouya of all people. "Who knows, you may even enjoy yourself." Now that she was facing actually baking with her two classmates, she was having trouble picturing them in a kitchen, actually trying to produce something that was edible. Deciding to keep things business-like (even though she could have poked more fun at Kyouya, it was probably best to not start another spat between then) she leaned forward, resting her chin in one hand.
Tamaki ignored what must have been a hidden insult coming from the Shadow King (he had long since learned not to let anything Kyouya said when he was not completely serious get to him. It was just the bespectacled boy's way. He never meant any harm to Tamaki... the Host Club King was just overly sensitive.)
"Wonderful, wonderful!" he shouted energetically, spinning in a graceful circle around the table and trailing rose petals behind him. "Thank you so much, Kobayashi-san!" To her, he offered a perfect red rose and his most charming smile.
At the girl's question, Tamaki straightened his posture and struck a pose. "We'll be making... Cake!" A little dazzle reflected off his perfectly white teeth.
Two roses in one day. Darya had to wonder what the record was. She laid the flower gently on the table next to the other one, neatly crossing the stems and trying to think of something else to do with them; it was almost a shame to have them just sit there.
"You're very welcome. And please, call me Darya." She glanced up at him, her head tilted slightly to one side as she thought. A cake. That was easy enough, even for someone who had never baked before -- which, in this case, really seemed to just be Kyouya. "Do you have any recipes in mind already? We need to have some idea of what we're doing before the bake off."
Now that she would be helping them bake, Darya was starting to make mental lists of what needed to be done next.
"Charlotte Portugaise," Kyouya suggested. He was never really fond of overly sweet food, but he did recall enjoying this particularlly extremely, practically impossible to make with their poor skills fancy French dessert when he was younger.
"Ah, ouais ouais, c'est Charlotte Portugaise... ah c'est pas mal. Je n'aime pas des amandes. Ils ne sont pas très populaires. Que diriez-vous... un gâteau au fromage blanc?" Tamaki rambled excitedly in French. He paused, realising that the others might not have been able to keep up.
"I mean... What about something with cheesecake?" He made a flourished circle with this hand as he flicked his blonde bangs from his face.
Cook? Could he, Tamaki Suoh, cook?! "OF COURSE I CAN COOK!" Tamaki proclaimed magnificently. An unseen orchestra's melody rose into a frantic crescendo as the blonde's emotions reached their peak. The world seemed to spin around Tamaki as his body twisted every-which way to form dramatic poses during his speech. A wave of lush, crimson roses broke and crashed around him.
"Back when I was living in France, when I was only a young little, innocent boy... I lived a simple life with my mother in the rolling green hills of the countryside! She would teach me her wonderful family recipies on days when we had nothing to do but sit and relax around the house!"
At this point, his epic, moving speech paused momentarily as he posed dramatically--a single spotlight illuminating his lonesome, tragic frame. Of course he could cook! It would be an insult to his dear mother if he could not do otherwise. But.. hark?! What was this feeling burrowing itself like a giant arrow fired from Kyouya's harsh bow reading "FAILURE".
Was it... no, it couldn't be... not from Kyouya! This feeling! It could only be.... BETRAYAL!
With a dramatic wail only capable of coming from one such as Tamaki, the Host Club King crumbled dramatically to the floor--forlorn rose petals drifting down around him. The spotlight flickered, then dimmed.
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“I doubt this,” Kyouya said frightfully dully. “It is my speculation that the only reason your mother took you to the kitchens to cook on those relaxing days was most likely because it wasn’t relaxing. As I imagine, at a young age, before your pianist genius blossomed, you pounded away at the piano and drove your poor mother through all sorts of musical calamities. I believe cooking was an alternative method to expend your ceaseless energy and distract you from the piano and to restore peace to your mother’s head.” He nodded, satisfied and very convinced with this theory.
No one was a genius from the start, and Tamaki’s skills were now so impressive that he didn’t doubt he was perhaps one of thebest, but Kyouya could vividly (much to his chagrin) imagine the hours young Tamaki might have spent banging away before his musical talent had begun to peek through.
Besides, countryside indeed. He knew for a fact that Tamaki’s mother was from a French aristocrat and had maintained that very wealth until a year or so prior to Tamaki’s arrival in Japan. If it was any countryside, it was probably the wealthiest in France.
“Also,” he said, voicing the addition to his thoughts out loud. “There’s no telling if you soaked in your mother’s talent for cooking. Even if you can cook, it doesn’t mean it’s good.” He paused, for a little effect and to give Tamaki a chance to prepare himself. Then he said, “Frankly, I don’t trust your cooking.” He smiled as sincerely as possible. There was no intentional harm meant; he was simply stating the fact and his personal, (painfully) honest opinion.
......And those rose petals were making a mess again. Where was Haruhi?
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What she could gather from the conversation between Tamaki and Kyouya, was that Tamaki was going to insist that the hosts actually cooked. Even if Kyouya didn't believe that Tamaki could manage to make anything edible. She was rather torn on what she thought; on one hand, it was very possible for the blond to have some sort of talent in the kitchen, on the other hand...he could be a walking fire hazard once he got around an oven.
"I suppose we'll see if Suoh-san can really cook or not soon, right, Ootori-san?" Darya asked, hoping to distract the two boys from their argument and cut off another rose petal tornado before Tamaki could get going again. It really was a good thing no one in the room seemed to be allergic to the Host Club King's flower of choice. "Honestly, however, I'm inclined to believe him," she added as an afterthought, mainly just to prod at Kyouya. "It really is a shame you can't have even teams. Isn't it two groups of two and one of three? Maybe you should find someone to help the teams that are short a member?"
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He raised an eyebrow at Darya in her proclaim of faith in Tamaki. He resisted the urge to scoff. She didn’t know what she was talking about. Tamaki? Cook? If need be, he had all the school records of Tamaki’s few sophisticated Home Economics classes in France (and what very little of it was taught at Ouran to girl, but that Tamaki took in his erratic curiosity for all things) to show her. They were not bad, but enough to convince her otherwise.
“We could always separate the twins,” Kyouya said thoughtfully, to Darya’s suggestion of evening out the teams, but then realized it wasn’t thoughtful at all. The twins would rather not participate than have one of them kicked off their team. Plus Kyouya would be accused of debauchery. Not that he minded. “Or Haruhi could not participate, as it is she’s the one the entire Bake Off happened in the first place…” at this he considered raising her debt, but that would have been abuse of power.
“I’m sure one of our many personal chefs could fill in the empty spots on Hani-senpai and our team,” he finally decided, as he couldn’t possible think of anyone else he might find helpful enough to include on either team. “Who would we recruit, anyway? Like I said, I doubt any of the almost royalty at this school knows how to cook. Or bake,” he added, suddenly realizing they had been using the wrong term. It was a Bake-Off. Not a Cook-off.
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And at the suggestion that Haruhi not participate, he was about to readily pounce on the idea. That way, she wouldn't have to spend more time with those unscrupulous twins. That dangerously dynamic duo. Who knows what they could do to his prescious daughter when he was busy concentrating on his cooking?! And to think, if Haruhi didn't participate in the bake-off itself, then she would be able to vote! And of course, she would vote for his cake, right?
"Tamaki-senpai~~" chimed Haruhi in an (uncharacteristically) girly voice--the rose petals flying across the scene. She tucked strands of her short, loose brown hair behind one ear and unconsciously fidgeted with her yellow skirt. "Your cake was really delicious."
"Ah, my prescious little Haruhi! I am so glad that it suited your tastes!" Tamaki took her in his arms, holding her gently--as a propper gentleman should. "I know that you don't like sweet things, but it pleases me so much that you enjoyed my cake out of all of them!"
She smiled and blushed. "Tamaki-senpai..."
"Ahhhhh ♥ that would be wonderful, wouldn't it?" Tamaki muttered to himself, his own eyes watering in an extremely shoujo-fashion as soft pink roses sprouted around him; his cheeks were tinged a similar hue.
Oh, but wait...! What if Haruhi was really, secretly looking forward to doing the bake off? She said that she always enjoyed cooking (why should baking be any different?) If she was unable to compete, it might make her angry. Then again, she might just use the time to not even come to the bake-off and spend it studying. If that was the case, it was highly unlikely that he would be able to see her at all!!
"No!" Tamaki finally said, rising back to his feet. "Haruhi must compete! I don't care if she's on the twins' team, but she is not allowed to miss club activities!" That among other reasons. "We'll just have to make our team larger, right?" His crystal blue eyes rolled slowly over towards Darya. There was a long pause.
Finally... "Kobayashi-san... would you possibly be interested in joining our team? Of course, you can still get a token to vote with if you want to."
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Of course, there would be objections, and possible conflicts in the club between the 2nd years and 1st years (i.e. Club King and Twin Knights)-but that would be dealt with accordingly. And he knew how to deal with everything accordingly.
What he could not deal with, and was taken especially by surprise was Tamaki’s prompt invitation to Darya.
To join their team.
For the first in a very long time, Kyouya did not know what to think.
Except.
Ah.
Dear Fate.
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It could either go very well or very badly.
Tamaki she knew she could work with; his exuberance, while something to get used to, made him easy to get along with. Kyouya, though...even if they had made amends (sort of) and had (sort of) agreed to be pleasant to each other, she wasn't sure how being on team with him would work. It wasn't even quite a matter of not arguing, if was a matter of feeling comfortable enough to spend more than a few moments together. There would be planning to do -- probably outside of school hours -- and Tamaki to handle, and, of course, they would have to make something that would win.
But it would be interesting, and Darya would be fooling herself if she couldn't at least mentally admit it sounded like fun. She smiled up at Tamaki, then more uncertainly as she glanced at Kyouya. The worst the bespectacled boy could do would be refuse to let her on the team even if she did say yes.
"I'd love to," she replied, finally, eyes still on Kyouya. It was down to him now, it seemed.
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And that was that.
……………………………….
At least in his head.
Kyouya inhaled very slowly. There was some sort of pressure pushing heavily down on his shoulders, and he could feel the weight increasing as he glanced back and forth between Tamaki and Darya who were both returning his gaze expectantly; Tamaki had a jubilant, excited look on his face and Darya--Darya.
The name triggered a series of fresh memories, and sped through many many possibilities that could happen if he said yes or if he said know. As his mind was trained to do, he immediately considered the profit, the loss, the benefit, and the worst that could come out of it, but to his bafflement, he could not find an answer.
No, no. Stop. Think again. There was always an answer.
He did think, and this time more calmly, more organized. Finally, exhaling the intake he took moments ago, he looked up to the two of them and attempted a smile. It was difficult to get his mouth to twitch, but once the corners of his lips curved, the smile crept up more smoothly than he expected.
“Well, there are always more than one pair of eyes needed to watch Tamaki in the kitchen,” he said, and that was his answer.
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"I'm sure we can keep Tamaki out of trouble," Darya replied, laughter warming her voice. It was odd to use the term 'we' to be referring to herself and Kyouya of all people. "Who knows, you may even enjoy yourself." Now that she was facing actually baking with her two classmates, she was having trouble picturing them in a kitchen, actually trying to produce something that was edible. Deciding to keep things business-like (even though she could have poked more fun at Kyouya, it was probably best to not start another spat between then) she leaned forward, resting her chin in one hand.
"What do you want to make?"
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"Wonderful, wonderful!" he shouted energetically, spinning in a graceful circle around the table and trailing rose petals behind him. "Thank you so much, Kobayashi-san!" To her, he offered a perfect red rose and his most charming smile.
At the girl's question, Tamaki straightened his posture and struck a pose. "We'll be making... Cake!" A little dazzle reflected off his perfectly white teeth.
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"You're very welcome. And please, call me Darya." She glanced up at him, her head tilted slightly to one side as she thought. A cake. That was easy enough, even for someone who had never baked before -- which, in this case, really seemed to just be Kyouya. "Do you have any recipes in mind already? We need to have some idea of what we're doing before the bake off."
Now that she would be helping them bake, Darya was starting to make mental lists of what needed to be done next.
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"I mean... What about something with cheesecake?" He made a flourished circle with this hand as he flicked his blonde bangs from his face.
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