Ouran/Yami no Matsuei- "Ouran Academy Guest Lecturers Series- Biomedical Research (Muraki Kazutaka)"
I think there is something fundamentally wrong with this fic. But it took like, FOREVER to write. So, I'm posting it anyway. Bear with me. XD
Title: Ouran Academy Guest Lecturers Series- Biomedical Research (Muraki Kazutaka)
Universe: Ouran High School Host Club/Yami no Matsuei
Theme/Topic: N/A
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing/s: Muraki, Tamaki, Haruhi, Kyouya, Twins, Mori, Honey (allusions of MurakixTsuzuki, splashes of the usual HikaruxKaoru and inklings of MorixHoney and MurakixTamaki)
Warnings/Spoilers: None that I can imagine, probably just lots of OOC at the worst. XD
Word Count: 3,921
Time: 3:43 (damn my bad memory)
Summary: (Ouran/Yami no Matsuei crossover) Third drabble cycle in the series- Dr. Muraki Kazutaka is invited by his sponsors in the Ootori group to lecture on his field of expertise.
Dedication: Christine- for all her help reminding me about Muraki-ish things. Because hell if I remember. Also for k_shi, because for some reason, when I was writing this, I thought of her. Must be all the megane references. XD
A/N: I watched YnM like, six billion years ago, and never once picked up a single volume of the manga. So. This is probably very, very wrong. Or something. OH WELL. Also, I was planning on making this ridiculous, but then I got into conversations about RPing, and that always makes me emo and wangsty, so it probably bled into this somewhere. SORRY. ;_; Also, the medical stuff could be wrong. Because I know nothing.
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
1.
Kyouya was given the special opportunity to personally introduce the third esteemed guest speaker who had been invited to do a series of lectures at Ouran Academy, as said guest was currently a rather important contracted member under the Ootori group’s supervision and was here due solely to their sponsorship of his current studies. Kyouya was very proud to introduce to the students and faculty of Ouran, a man who had been recognized for his international contributions to the scientific community in the field of clone research: the (in)famous, charismatic, and--above all else-brilliant, Muraki Kazutaka-sensei .
“Muraki-sensei is currently a leader in the fields of genetics, stem cell research, and biochemical engineering,” Kyouya announced, and he and Muraki’s glasses both shone with a similar, unholy light. “Please welcome him warmly, Ouran staff and fellow students, and take this rare opportunity to explore the latest biological and technical breakthroughs in the field of medicine as we find ourselves facing a future rife with potential, one in which immortality itself is perhaps within each of our grasps.”
Kyouya’s words were received with a warm wave of applause, and as he stepped aside and let the student body get a good look at Muraki in the spotlight, he thought that this, perhaps even more than either of the others, would prove to be an interesting two-week course.
Muraki’s anticipation mirrored Kyouya’s, and as he stood to take the podium and begin his self-introduction to the staff and students of Ouran Academy, he couldn’t help but think that so many supple young bodies all in one place would make for a very productive fortnight.
2.
When the question on moral integrity was raised given his ambitions on the possibility of human immortality-“Isn’t it a crime against God?” one professor asked-Muraki-sensei simply smiled winningly and looked all around, his single, intense eye capturing those of the crowd instinctively. “No, I don’t think it’s a crime against God, to be honest,” he said. “He made us in his image after all-gave us the means above all others to aspire to greatness. I think man was given this ambition for a reason, that God is waiting perhaps, for us to reach out to him so that we may sit side by side with him as companions one day. Man has been chasing perfection for as long as he could walk after all, has sought to become closer to the divine in any way he could. Why do you think art museums exist? Music? Those things closest to perfection-like science-- have been preserved so carefully to inspire us… to bolster our perseverance to greater, nobler things.”
There was a general reactionary murmur to his words amongst the throng, and not all of it was entirely agreeable to his way of thinking.
He flipped back his hair and smiled charismatically. “Well, for example,” he started, and adjusted his glasses in an all too-familiar manner, “wouldn’t it be nice for handsome young men like Kyouya-sama and his friends to live forever?”
The crowd burst into cheers as everyone completely, completely agreed.
3.
The first thing that struck him about the young man was the fact that he was in the possession of two deep, deep violet eyes. The second was the charming smile.
“Aaah, Muraki-sensei,” Tamaki began, and clutched one hand over his heart. “I was very moved by your words this afternoon!”
Muraki smiled, and somewhere in the background, Takashi’s nostrils instinctively flared in warning, though he didn’t know why. “Well, I’m very glad we’re in agreement, Suou-sama.”
“That’s right! Beauty should be preserved forever, for the enjoyment of all!” the blond continued, and Muraki had never seen such lovely skin before-especially under the glow of such youthful enthusiasm. He wondered if Tamaki used expensive facial products or if he was simply the beneficiary of very praiseworthy genes.
Part of him itched to find out.
But the doctor’s smile simply broadened, and somewhere in the background, Mori-senpai felt the hairs on the back of his neck instinctively stand on end. He didn’t know why. “Beauty should be preserved, and beauty and intelligence should be celebrated for eternity,” he responded graciously, and accepted the cup of tea the handsome young host (really, sixteen was such a lovely, lovely age) offered him.
“Muraki-sensei, you are very clearly a man of great intellectual thought!” Tamaki declared, and looked at the white-haired doctor with those hypnotic purple eyes.
Muraki set his cup down on the table and very gently took one of Tamaki’s hands in his own. “Suou-sama,” he began, and his voice was low enough that even the young lady sitting beside Tamaki on the other side of the couch couldn’t quite make it out. The older man stared deep into those charming eyes. “Have you ever considered donating your body to science in case you happen to die? Beauty should be studied as well so that it may be better understood, after all. It’s a very noble cause.”
Somewhere in the background, Takashi felt every part of himself freeze instinctively. He dropped a tea cup, and it shattered on the floor. He didn’t know why.
Tamaki, in the meantime, sparkled back at Muraki-sensei and grasped the doctor’s hands between both of his in return. “Yes, yes, noble… that suits me very well, doesn’t it?”
“Shall I have Kyouya-sama add your name to the official list of donors we have? Of course, it would be a shame for a lovely young man such as yourself to meet any unfortunate end, but there would be some good to come of it in that case, wouldn’t there?”
Tamaki’s heart swelled (as did his eyes, except with tears instead of gracious self-sacrifice). “Yes, very noble!” he echoed, and squeezed the hands clasping his own. “It is fitting that I would be of benefit to the whole world in that respect. Please sign me up right away, Muraki-sensei!”
Muraki’s eye gleamed. “Call me Kazu, Suou-sama.”
“Please call me Tamaki then, Kazu-san!”
Somewhere in the background, Mori-senpai instinctively doubled over clutching his head. He didn’t know why.
4.
“Will he be okay, will he, ne, Kazu-chan?” Honey asked, and clutched his pink bunny-rabbit closer to his chest in distress.
Muraki smiled and reached out to pat Honey’s head in a reassuring manner.
Except the cute little boy was suddenly snatched away, and the white-haired doctor felt a dark, dark aura staring right at him from the shadows.
He adjusted his glasses, nonplused, and looked into the canopied bed Takashi-kun was currently occupying at Mitsukuni-kun’s request, when he’d doubled over suddenly just now.
The older man’s smile never faltered. “I’m sure that he’ll be fine, Mitsukuni-kun, but everyone would feel reassured once I examine Takashi-kun, ne?”
Honey, looking up at Mori with big eyes, blinked at his cousin. “Ne, Takashi? Let the doctor look at you, ‘kay? I’m super worried!” he said, and didn’t question why the taller boy had suddenly snatched him up into the afternoon naptime bed like he had.
Takashi looked absolutely torn (his eye twitched once). “I’m okay,” he said, after a minute.
“Well, Mitsukuni-kun, I can’t examine him if he doesn’t want me to, but perhaps we should leave him to rest then, ne?” Muraki suggested kindly, and reached out to offer a hand to Honey. “You and I can go have some cake over there while we let Takashi-kun rest, hmm?”
Mori’s stomach seized up and he grunted, arm tightening around his charge instinctively.
“Um… maybe I should stay with Takashi for a while, ne?” Honey posed, thoughtfully. “Here!” he suggested, and thrust his bunny-rabbit out at Muraki-sensei, because he didn’t want the nice older man to be lonely while the two of them were gone. “Kazu-chan can take my Usa-chan and go apologize to the guests for me, ne?” He straightened. “I have to take care of Takashi now! Cake should make him feel better!”
Mori looked visibly relieved.
Muraki adjusted his glasses and accepted the bunny rabbit. “Very well then, Mitsukuni-kun.”
Muraki left them to their own devices then, and tucked the rabbit under his arm as he returned to the open area of the room. Kyouya appeared beside him some steps later. “How is Mori-senpai?” the teenager asked, and the light hit both of their glasses in exactly the same way.
“I don’t think Takashi-kun likes me very much, Kyouya-sama,” Muraki explained in an almost amused manner as they walked, their shoes hitting the exquisite floors in perfect synchronization.
“Mori-senpai is more often than not driven by his good instincts rather than by human logic,” Kyouya responded without preamble, and smiled just a little bit.
“A shame,” Muraki responded, just as bluntly and with just the same smile. “He looked so very… strong.” He eyed Kyouya. “Perhaps next time.”
Kyouya flipped his portfolio shut. “Please take care of that rabbit you’re holding. It’s really quite important,” he said, and broke off to see to his guests.
5.
They seemed to be getting a lot of visitors in the host club lately, Haruhi thought. Guest-hosts, oddly enough, and not just the regular type of guest-guests like one would expect. One would think that such illustrious personages as those invited to Ouran Academy as guest lecturers would find more… intellectually stimulating activities to take part in during their extra time on campus, but thus far, three for three had seemed to prefer frequenting this room and mingling with the dozens of female (and some male) admirers that came to see the hosts.
It was understandable with Sohma-sensei and Yuki-sensei, she supposed-both of them seemed like irredeemable perverts in their own strange ways. Muraki-sensei though, was unfailingly polite, charming, and obviously a laudable name in many different fields of important medical research.
One would think he would have visited the biology club or the chemistry club instead, but he seemed rather content to spend his time chatting companionably with Tamaki-senpai and praising his good looks. At that, part of her wondered whether he was just better at concealing his irredeemable perversions as compared to the previous guests or if he felt some sort of companionship with Kyouya-senpai and preferred to be in the vicinity of the dark-haired vice-president’s familiar countenance.
The thought of someone wanting something like that sent an unexpected series of shivers down her spine.
No wonder Mori-senpai thought Muraki-sensei was so off-putting.
As if to confirm her suspicions, the door in front of her suddenly creaked open unexpectedly, and the vestige of an irate-looking cat puppet poked in.
She wondered how the door kept changing shape-it must have cost a fortune for those sorts of special effects and Kyouya-senpai definitely wouldn’t agree to foot the bill each time, knowing him. “Nekozawa-senpai?”
Predictably, the familiar cloaked head peeked around the frame a second later, following the cat puppet ever faithfully. “Beezelnef senses a d-d-dark presence. This r-r-r-oom has become c-c-c-ursed!”
At the declaration, Tamaki screamed.
Haruhi sighed.
The twins, Kyouya, and Muraki all looked up at the same time (i.e. the words “dark presence”). They blinked.
Haruhi rubbed her forehead and couldn’t help it when she slumped forward a little at the shoulders. “Dark presence, huh?” she asked, and waved one hand a bit resignedly in the direction of the four blinkers. She chuckled ironically. “Which one?”
6.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like him or anything (she hardly knew him, after all), but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something that didn’t quite sit well with her about him either. However, she couldn’t quite figure out what, exactly, it was. All she knew that her reactions were less volatile than Mori-senpai’s. He made her twitch a little, at worst.
Though after their introduction (he’d looked intently at her for a moment or two before breaking out into that smile), he hadn’t really paid much mind to her other than when he mentioned that “She almost, almost makes a convincing young man,” conversationally to Tamaki.
Tamaki had snorted coffee after rather indelicately inhaling it and then ended up spitting most of it up on the table. Muraki had prescribed cold water and a handkerchief, and had pat Tamaki’s back in a companionable way until the young (really, the age of sixteen was absolutely perfect) host regained himself.
“H-h-how did you know?” the blond sputtered after he’d regained the ability to speak.
Muraki’s eye gleamed, and Haruhi shivered. “I am a doctor, aren’t I?”
But, like with Shigure before him, Tamaki ultimately saw it as an opportunity rather than a revelation. “Her girlish charms just can’t be subdued!” he declared, and hoped Muraki would agree. “Wouldn’t she be lovely with a dress? Braids in her hair? Oh, Haruhi… papa longs for his cute daughter to return to him, to jump lovingly into his open arms!”
She’d been on the verge of saying, “You’d need to have a daughter first,” but before she’d been able to respond, Muraki had reached out and cupped the blond’s chin, stilling him mid-tirade.
“I’m sure she’d be very cute,” the doctor said, again in low tones as he gazed into wide purple eyes, “but I suppose I’m just not fundamentally interested in young women.”
Tamaki blinked.
And then turned bright red. “O-oh.”
At the revelation, Haruhi supposed that that was why she didn’t get any overtly creepy vibes from Muraki-sensei herself. He wasn’t interested.
It was nice in a way, she guessed, to finally have a guest who wasn’t always hounding her for some reason or another.
In other words she was safe. At least for this round.
Feeling a lot better about Muraki-sensei now, she shrugged off her previous misconceptions about him and went to prepare for the next shift of guests.
Absently, she wondered how the girls would receive the scene of Muraki-sensei trapping Tamaki-senpai on the couch when they walked in.
She wasn’t sure exactly how they’d take it of course-- because she fundamentally didn’t know about this kind of thing-- but it just seemed like the type of weirdo image that would appeal to them.
7.
“Muraki-sensei,” one shy little slip of a thing asked him one afternoon, and kept staring at the intricate design of his coat as she spoke, “what made you want to become a doctor?”
He supposed it would make sense that some of these girls had that sort of fetish, and so he humored her, even though he was more interested in getting that cute little blush to work its way down Tamaki-kun’s neck again. “My brother,” he told her, and smiled mysteriously.
She blushed bright pink.
In his sickbed, Mori shuddered.
“Your brother? He must be very important to you then!” she said, and sounded rather excited at the prospect. A second fetish, apparently.
“My brother was very influential to me, yes,” Muraki responded, and continued to smile coolly at her.
“Was? Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, and looked ashamed.
“No need, my dear,” he assured her. “Even if his physical body isn’t here with me any longer, the memories he helped create for me will always be. I will never-- indeed, couldn’t ever-- forget him.”
Her eyes positively shone at his declaration.
Hikaru and Kaoru took it as a cue, though Haruhi supposed that everything could be considered a cue to them.
“Oh Hikaru… if I died… would you remember me like that?” Kaoru started on the couch opposite Muraki’s, leaning just a little bit closer to his brother.
“Kaoru, if you died… I would follow you to wherever you went,” Hikaru vowed, and touched his forehead to his twin’s, thumbs brushing the other boy’s cheeks as he wiped up the two perfectly symmetrical teardrops that had apparently fallen from Kaoru’s limpid eyes.
Muraki watched, and really thought that twins were fascinating-nature’s clones, as would be the case.
“Idiot,” Kaoru responded, and cried even more. “If I were gone of course I would want you to live!”
“It wouldn’t be life without you, Kaoru,” Hikaru murmured, and stroked his brother’s jaw line tenderly.
The young lady was in raptures.
Muraki simply smiled enigmatically and leaned back into the couch. “Luckily for you two, you’re a special case,” he began, and sipped coffee. “If one of you died, even if we didn’t have a body, I could just make a copy from the survivor’s DNA. With a little bit of time and the right funding, of course.” He paused, and his eyes crinkled just a little bit mirthfully. “However, if both of you were to mysteriously disappear… Well. That’s another story altogether.”
It was perhaps the first time in their entire lives where someone had actually been able to give the unflappable Hitachiin brothers the creeps.
8.
The ladies really thought that Muraki-sensei, who was always all in white, made a pale and lovely complement to their king, whose vibrant colors and personality seemed to call out for the touch of the older doctor’s large, cool hands. Symbolically one was color, and the other was the culmination of all colors, the glow and exuberance of youth working alternately with the expertise of an adult’s knowledgeable fingers.
“It’s magnificent!” they cried, and Tamaki’s red, red blush was really just as lively and praiseworthy as the rest of him.
“It’s so refreshing to see Tamaki-sama look so small and cute for once, ne?” others asked, and almost made him sputter in indignant disbelief.
He was a professional though, and managed to keep relatively calm. He told himself that if this was what made the ladies happy, then so be it! His job as a host at Ouran was to bring happiness and good fortune to all those who walked through the doors of the third music room, after all.
That decided, he put on quite the brave face for his adoring throng.
He only squeaked once, even.
And to be fair, Muraki-sensei’s hands had been in his pants.
The girls absolutely loved it.
As Renge announced when her high powered motor brought her up through the floorboards, “Reversals keep things fresh! Lively! Beauty is beauty, but a different lighting can make things glow in a new and wonderful way!” she laughed, before complimenting Muraki-sensei on his particularly lovely coat-“It would make amazing Weiss Kreuz cosplay!”
Kyouya in the meantime, took lots of notes (and pictures) and discovered that Tamaki on the bottom really was a lot more popular than he might have first anticipated.
Of course, he had to be objective about this. Only photo collection sales would tell the truth of Tamaki-uke’s real attractiveness to the guests, and that was (from this very moment) at least a whole week away in terms of production time.
In the meantime, he calculated what steps would need to be taken by himself to create more Tamaki-bottoming opportunities should they be necessary in the future.
Muraki-sensei wouldn’t be here forever, after all.
9.
When a young man from Class 2-F- a second son of the Oyamada family by the name of Ayase-kun -- went missing for a good three days during Muraki-sensei’s lecture series, Ouran Academy went into a certain state of chaos.
The administration promptly apologized to the good doctor and cancelled two of his lectures in lieu of holding an assembly and silent vigil for the friends and family of the missing boy.
Muraki of course, understood completely. Acting with great aplomb, he generously offered his services as a licensed psychiatrist to the school as well, and any other aid he might be able to render while he was here. He was a great help to the distraught Ouran staff and to many of the students as well, as something like this was very much unprecedented in their school (from which it was presumed Ayase-kun had been abducted).
Though on the other hand, this sort of thing was perhaps not so unprecedented in the students’ larger social circles, considering many of the Ouran attendees (past and present) had been kidnapped at least once as infants and ransomed back to their parents. It was-- at least for the more socially important of them-almost like a rite of passage.
Ayase-kun’s parents and older brother made the obligatory thank you speeches during the assemblies, calling for the hope and vigilance of everyone present, though they were mostly certain the kidnappers would call sometime soon and the whole ordeal would be handled after some obscene amount of money changed hands.
“Thank you for putting my family in your thoughts and prayers during this great time of tribulation,” the boy’s mother told the assembly, to a spattering of sympathetic applause.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Muraki murmured, and patted her hand when she came back from speaking to sit next to him on the stage.
“He’d always wanted to be kidnapped, really,” his mother explained with a small, nervous laugh. “Ever since he heard stories about Reiji’s-his brother’s-kidnapping when he was a baby. Ah, having more than one son is so troublesome! They’re always trying to outdo each other, you know.”
“How tragic,” Muraki said in a placating manner, and continued to pat her hand.
She smiled back, a bit watery-eyed. “We apologize for interfering with your lecture series Muraki-sensei. Really, Ayase has such bad manners for picking a time like this to find trouble. And just the other day he was practically raving about getting to listen to you speak.” She laughed a little. “He’s really quite the fan of yours, you know.”
Muraki smiled. “He must be a nice boy.”
She nodded. “Oh yes. Sixteen years old still and such a wild dreamer.”
Muraki adjusted his glasses and leaned back slightly in his chair. “Sixteen is a wonderful age.”
10.
The day that Muraki-sensei made his formal good-byes to the faculty and student body of Ouran Academy and went back to his research in Kyoto, Mori-senpai made a remarkable (instant) recovery. Ouran as a whole was still waiting for Ayase’s ransom call (people were actually starting to really worry now, as ransom calls usually came within at least the first 72-hours, as stated by the experts in the school who’d experienced similar crises during their youths), but other than that small alteration to the daily life of the students, the academy mostly returned to a relative state of normalcy with the departure of their latest famous guest lecturer.
However, everyone (save Kyouya) noticed that a lock of their hair had appeared to have gone missing during the course of Muraki-sensei’s stay with them.
When they asked the vice-president about it, he simply smiled and said, “I suppose it’s just a fact of nature that scientists will all have weird social quirks, ne?” in an almost amused manner as he calmly adjusted his glasses. Everyone felt a little bit dirty at the prospect, and how easily Kyouya seemed to shrug it off didn’t help their worries any.
Hikaru and Kaoru were, unsurprisingly, the only ones who didn’t get too paranoid about the possibility of one day having clones of themselves running around the planet without their knowledge.
“The world would be a better-looking place,” they agreed, and shrugged at one another simultaneously, before sitting down in unison and sipping instant coffee in tandem.
Haruhi would have been disturbed at how blasé they were about the whole thing, but in retrospect she supposed that if that was what helped them sleep at night… well, it couldn’t be helped, right?
In a similar vein, she reminded herself that Muraki-sensei-by his own words-- was fundamentally uninterested in young women.
END
EDITS SOOOOOOOOOOO NEEDED.
Title: Ouran Academy Guest Lecturers Series- Biomedical Research (Muraki Kazutaka)
Universe: Ouran High School Host Club/Yami no Matsuei
Theme/Topic: N/A
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing/s: Muraki, Tamaki, Haruhi, Kyouya, Twins, Mori, Honey (allusions of MurakixTsuzuki, splashes of the usual HikaruxKaoru and inklings of MorixHoney and MurakixTamaki)
Warnings/Spoilers: None that I can imagine, probably just lots of OOC at the worst. XD
Word Count: 3,921
Time: 3:43 (damn my bad memory)
Summary: (Ouran/Yami no Matsuei crossover) Third drabble cycle in the series- Dr. Muraki Kazutaka is invited by his sponsors in the Ootori group to lecture on his field of expertise.
Dedication: Christine- for all her help reminding me about Muraki-ish things. Because hell if I remember. Also for k_shi, because for some reason, when I was writing this, I thought of her. Must be all the megane references. XD
A/N: I watched YnM like, six billion years ago, and never once picked up a single volume of the manga. So. This is probably very, very wrong. Or something. OH WELL. Also, I was planning on making this ridiculous, but then I got into conversations about RPing, and that always makes me emo and wangsty, so it probably bled into this somewhere. SORRY. ;_; Also, the medical stuff could be wrong. Because I know nothing.
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
1.
Kyouya was given the special opportunity to personally introduce the third esteemed guest speaker who had been invited to do a series of lectures at Ouran Academy, as said guest was currently a rather important contracted member under the Ootori group’s supervision and was here due solely to their sponsorship of his current studies. Kyouya was very proud to introduce to the students and faculty of Ouran, a man who had been recognized for his international contributions to the scientific community in the field of clone research: the (in)famous, charismatic, and--above all else-brilliant, Muraki Kazutaka-sensei .
“Muraki-sensei is currently a leader in the fields of genetics, stem cell research, and biochemical engineering,” Kyouya announced, and he and Muraki’s glasses both shone with a similar, unholy light. “Please welcome him warmly, Ouran staff and fellow students, and take this rare opportunity to explore the latest biological and technical breakthroughs in the field of medicine as we find ourselves facing a future rife with potential, one in which immortality itself is perhaps within each of our grasps.”
Kyouya’s words were received with a warm wave of applause, and as he stepped aside and let the student body get a good look at Muraki in the spotlight, he thought that this, perhaps even more than either of the others, would prove to be an interesting two-week course.
Muraki’s anticipation mirrored Kyouya’s, and as he stood to take the podium and begin his self-introduction to the staff and students of Ouran Academy, he couldn’t help but think that so many supple young bodies all in one place would make for a very productive fortnight.
2.
When the question on moral integrity was raised given his ambitions on the possibility of human immortality-“Isn’t it a crime against God?” one professor asked-Muraki-sensei simply smiled winningly and looked all around, his single, intense eye capturing those of the crowd instinctively. “No, I don’t think it’s a crime against God, to be honest,” he said. “He made us in his image after all-gave us the means above all others to aspire to greatness. I think man was given this ambition for a reason, that God is waiting perhaps, for us to reach out to him so that we may sit side by side with him as companions one day. Man has been chasing perfection for as long as he could walk after all, has sought to become closer to the divine in any way he could. Why do you think art museums exist? Music? Those things closest to perfection-like science-- have been preserved so carefully to inspire us… to bolster our perseverance to greater, nobler things.”
There was a general reactionary murmur to his words amongst the throng, and not all of it was entirely agreeable to his way of thinking.
He flipped back his hair and smiled charismatically. “Well, for example,” he started, and adjusted his glasses in an all too-familiar manner, “wouldn’t it be nice for handsome young men like Kyouya-sama and his friends to live forever?”
The crowd burst into cheers as everyone completely, completely agreed.
3.
The first thing that struck him about the young man was the fact that he was in the possession of two deep, deep violet eyes. The second was the charming smile.
“Aaah, Muraki-sensei,” Tamaki began, and clutched one hand over his heart. “I was very moved by your words this afternoon!”
Muraki smiled, and somewhere in the background, Takashi’s nostrils instinctively flared in warning, though he didn’t know why. “Well, I’m very glad we’re in agreement, Suou-sama.”
“That’s right! Beauty should be preserved forever, for the enjoyment of all!” the blond continued, and Muraki had never seen such lovely skin before-especially under the glow of such youthful enthusiasm. He wondered if Tamaki used expensive facial products or if he was simply the beneficiary of very praiseworthy genes.
Part of him itched to find out.
But the doctor’s smile simply broadened, and somewhere in the background, Mori-senpai felt the hairs on the back of his neck instinctively stand on end. He didn’t know why. “Beauty should be preserved, and beauty and intelligence should be celebrated for eternity,” he responded graciously, and accepted the cup of tea the handsome young host (really, sixteen was such a lovely, lovely age) offered him.
“Muraki-sensei, you are very clearly a man of great intellectual thought!” Tamaki declared, and looked at the white-haired doctor with those hypnotic purple eyes.
Muraki set his cup down on the table and very gently took one of Tamaki’s hands in his own. “Suou-sama,” he began, and his voice was low enough that even the young lady sitting beside Tamaki on the other side of the couch couldn’t quite make it out. The older man stared deep into those charming eyes. “Have you ever considered donating your body to science in case you happen to die? Beauty should be studied as well so that it may be better understood, after all. It’s a very noble cause.”
Somewhere in the background, Takashi felt every part of himself freeze instinctively. He dropped a tea cup, and it shattered on the floor. He didn’t know why.
Tamaki, in the meantime, sparkled back at Muraki-sensei and grasped the doctor’s hands between both of his in return. “Yes, yes, noble… that suits me very well, doesn’t it?”
“Shall I have Kyouya-sama add your name to the official list of donors we have? Of course, it would be a shame for a lovely young man such as yourself to meet any unfortunate end, but there would be some good to come of it in that case, wouldn’t there?”
Tamaki’s heart swelled (as did his eyes, except with tears instead of gracious self-sacrifice). “Yes, very noble!” he echoed, and squeezed the hands clasping his own. “It is fitting that I would be of benefit to the whole world in that respect. Please sign me up right away, Muraki-sensei!”
Muraki’s eye gleamed. “Call me Kazu, Suou-sama.”
“Please call me Tamaki then, Kazu-san!”
Somewhere in the background, Mori-senpai instinctively doubled over clutching his head. He didn’t know why.
4.
“Will he be okay, will he, ne, Kazu-chan?” Honey asked, and clutched his pink bunny-rabbit closer to his chest in distress.
Muraki smiled and reached out to pat Honey’s head in a reassuring manner.
Except the cute little boy was suddenly snatched away, and the white-haired doctor felt a dark, dark aura staring right at him from the shadows.
He adjusted his glasses, nonplused, and looked into the canopied bed Takashi-kun was currently occupying at Mitsukuni-kun’s request, when he’d doubled over suddenly just now.
The older man’s smile never faltered. “I’m sure that he’ll be fine, Mitsukuni-kun, but everyone would feel reassured once I examine Takashi-kun, ne?”
Honey, looking up at Mori with big eyes, blinked at his cousin. “Ne, Takashi? Let the doctor look at you, ‘kay? I’m super worried!” he said, and didn’t question why the taller boy had suddenly snatched him up into the afternoon naptime bed like he had.
Takashi looked absolutely torn (his eye twitched once). “I’m okay,” he said, after a minute.
“Well, Mitsukuni-kun, I can’t examine him if he doesn’t want me to, but perhaps we should leave him to rest then, ne?” Muraki suggested kindly, and reached out to offer a hand to Honey. “You and I can go have some cake over there while we let Takashi-kun rest, hmm?”
Mori’s stomach seized up and he grunted, arm tightening around his charge instinctively.
“Um… maybe I should stay with Takashi for a while, ne?” Honey posed, thoughtfully. “Here!” he suggested, and thrust his bunny-rabbit out at Muraki-sensei, because he didn’t want the nice older man to be lonely while the two of them were gone. “Kazu-chan can take my Usa-chan and go apologize to the guests for me, ne?” He straightened. “I have to take care of Takashi now! Cake should make him feel better!”
Mori looked visibly relieved.
Muraki adjusted his glasses and accepted the bunny rabbit. “Very well then, Mitsukuni-kun.”
Muraki left them to their own devices then, and tucked the rabbit under his arm as he returned to the open area of the room. Kyouya appeared beside him some steps later. “How is Mori-senpai?” the teenager asked, and the light hit both of their glasses in exactly the same way.
“I don’t think Takashi-kun likes me very much, Kyouya-sama,” Muraki explained in an almost amused manner as they walked, their shoes hitting the exquisite floors in perfect synchronization.
“Mori-senpai is more often than not driven by his good instincts rather than by human logic,” Kyouya responded without preamble, and smiled just a little bit.
“A shame,” Muraki responded, just as bluntly and with just the same smile. “He looked so very… strong.” He eyed Kyouya. “Perhaps next time.”
Kyouya flipped his portfolio shut. “Please take care of that rabbit you’re holding. It’s really quite important,” he said, and broke off to see to his guests.
5.
They seemed to be getting a lot of visitors in the host club lately, Haruhi thought. Guest-hosts, oddly enough, and not just the regular type of guest-guests like one would expect. One would think that such illustrious personages as those invited to Ouran Academy as guest lecturers would find more… intellectually stimulating activities to take part in during their extra time on campus, but thus far, three for three had seemed to prefer frequenting this room and mingling with the dozens of female (and some male) admirers that came to see the hosts.
It was understandable with Sohma-sensei and Yuki-sensei, she supposed-both of them seemed like irredeemable perverts in their own strange ways. Muraki-sensei though, was unfailingly polite, charming, and obviously a laudable name in many different fields of important medical research.
One would think he would have visited the biology club or the chemistry club instead, but he seemed rather content to spend his time chatting companionably with Tamaki-senpai and praising his good looks. At that, part of her wondered whether he was just better at concealing his irredeemable perversions as compared to the previous guests or if he felt some sort of companionship with Kyouya-senpai and preferred to be in the vicinity of the dark-haired vice-president’s familiar countenance.
The thought of someone wanting something like that sent an unexpected series of shivers down her spine.
No wonder Mori-senpai thought Muraki-sensei was so off-putting.
As if to confirm her suspicions, the door in front of her suddenly creaked open unexpectedly, and the vestige of an irate-looking cat puppet poked in.
She wondered how the door kept changing shape-it must have cost a fortune for those sorts of special effects and Kyouya-senpai definitely wouldn’t agree to foot the bill each time, knowing him. “Nekozawa-senpai?”
Predictably, the familiar cloaked head peeked around the frame a second later, following the cat puppet ever faithfully. “Beezelnef senses a d-d-dark presence. This r-r-r-oom has become c-c-c-ursed!”
At the declaration, Tamaki screamed.
Haruhi sighed.
The twins, Kyouya, and Muraki all looked up at the same time (i.e. the words “dark presence”). They blinked.
Haruhi rubbed her forehead and couldn’t help it when she slumped forward a little at the shoulders. “Dark presence, huh?” she asked, and waved one hand a bit resignedly in the direction of the four blinkers. She chuckled ironically. “Which one?”
6.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like him or anything (she hardly knew him, after all), but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something that didn’t quite sit well with her about him either. However, she couldn’t quite figure out what, exactly, it was. All she knew that her reactions were less volatile than Mori-senpai’s. He made her twitch a little, at worst.
Though after their introduction (he’d looked intently at her for a moment or two before breaking out into that smile), he hadn’t really paid much mind to her other than when he mentioned that “She almost, almost makes a convincing young man,” conversationally to Tamaki.
Tamaki had snorted coffee after rather indelicately inhaling it and then ended up spitting most of it up on the table. Muraki had prescribed cold water and a handkerchief, and had pat Tamaki’s back in a companionable way until the young (really, the age of sixteen was absolutely perfect) host regained himself.
“H-h-how did you know?” the blond sputtered after he’d regained the ability to speak.
Muraki’s eye gleamed, and Haruhi shivered. “I am a doctor, aren’t I?”
But, like with Shigure before him, Tamaki ultimately saw it as an opportunity rather than a revelation. “Her girlish charms just can’t be subdued!” he declared, and hoped Muraki would agree. “Wouldn’t she be lovely with a dress? Braids in her hair? Oh, Haruhi… papa longs for his cute daughter to return to him, to jump lovingly into his open arms!”
She’d been on the verge of saying, “You’d need to have a daughter first,” but before she’d been able to respond, Muraki had reached out and cupped the blond’s chin, stilling him mid-tirade.
“I’m sure she’d be very cute,” the doctor said, again in low tones as he gazed into wide purple eyes, “but I suppose I’m just not fundamentally interested in young women.”
Tamaki blinked.
And then turned bright red. “O-oh.”
At the revelation, Haruhi supposed that that was why she didn’t get any overtly creepy vibes from Muraki-sensei herself. He wasn’t interested.
It was nice in a way, she guessed, to finally have a guest who wasn’t always hounding her for some reason or another.
In other words she was safe. At least for this round.
Feeling a lot better about Muraki-sensei now, she shrugged off her previous misconceptions about him and went to prepare for the next shift of guests.
Absently, she wondered how the girls would receive the scene of Muraki-sensei trapping Tamaki-senpai on the couch when they walked in.
She wasn’t sure exactly how they’d take it of course-- because she fundamentally didn’t know about this kind of thing-- but it just seemed like the type of weirdo image that would appeal to them.
7.
“Muraki-sensei,” one shy little slip of a thing asked him one afternoon, and kept staring at the intricate design of his coat as she spoke, “what made you want to become a doctor?”
He supposed it would make sense that some of these girls had that sort of fetish, and so he humored her, even though he was more interested in getting that cute little blush to work its way down Tamaki-kun’s neck again. “My brother,” he told her, and smiled mysteriously.
She blushed bright pink.
In his sickbed, Mori shuddered.
“Your brother? He must be very important to you then!” she said, and sounded rather excited at the prospect. A second fetish, apparently.
“My brother was very influential to me, yes,” Muraki responded, and continued to smile coolly at her.
“Was? Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, and looked ashamed.
“No need, my dear,” he assured her. “Even if his physical body isn’t here with me any longer, the memories he helped create for me will always be. I will never-- indeed, couldn’t ever-- forget him.”
Her eyes positively shone at his declaration.
Hikaru and Kaoru took it as a cue, though Haruhi supposed that everything could be considered a cue to them.
“Oh Hikaru… if I died… would you remember me like that?” Kaoru started on the couch opposite Muraki’s, leaning just a little bit closer to his brother.
“Kaoru, if you died… I would follow you to wherever you went,” Hikaru vowed, and touched his forehead to his twin’s, thumbs brushing the other boy’s cheeks as he wiped up the two perfectly symmetrical teardrops that had apparently fallen from Kaoru’s limpid eyes.
Muraki watched, and really thought that twins were fascinating-nature’s clones, as would be the case.
“Idiot,” Kaoru responded, and cried even more. “If I were gone of course I would want you to live!”
“It wouldn’t be life without you, Kaoru,” Hikaru murmured, and stroked his brother’s jaw line tenderly.
The young lady was in raptures.
Muraki simply smiled enigmatically and leaned back into the couch. “Luckily for you two, you’re a special case,” he began, and sipped coffee. “If one of you died, even if we didn’t have a body, I could just make a copy from the survivor’s DNA. With a little bit of time and the right funding, of course.” He paused, and his eyes crinkled just a little bit mirthfully. “However, if both of you were to mysteriously disappear… Well. That’s another story altogether.”
It was perhaps the first time in their entire lives where someone had actually been able to give the unflappable Hitachiin brothers the creeps.
8.
The ladies really thought that Muraki-sensei, who was always all in white, made a pale and lovely complement to their king, whose vibrant colors and personality seemed to call out for the touch of the older doctor’s large, cool hands. Symbolically one was color, and the other was the culmination of all colors, the glow and exuberance of youth working alternately with the expertise of an adult’s knowledgeable fingers.
“It’s magnificent!” they cried, and Tamaki’s red, red blush was really just as lively and praiseworthy as the rest of him.
“It’s so refreshing to see Tamaki-sama look so small and cute for once, ne?” others asked, and almost made him sputter in indignant disbelief.
He was a professional though, and managed to keep relatively calm. He told himself that if this was what made the ladies happy, then so be it! His job as a host at Ouran was to bring happiness and good fortune to all those who walked through the doors of the third music room, after all.
That decided, he put on quite the brave face for his adoring throng.
He only squeaked once, even.
And to be fair, Muraki-sensei’s hands had been in his pants.
The girls absolutely loved it.
As Renge announced when her high powered motor brought her up through the floorboards, “Reversals keep things fresh! Lively! Beauty is beauty, but a different lighting can make things glow in a new and wonderful way!” she laughed, before complimenting Muraki-sensei on his particularly lovely coat-“It would make amazing Weiss Kreuz cosplay!”
Kyouya in the meantime, took lots of notes (and pictures) and discovered that Tamaki on the bottom really was a lot more popular than he might have first anticipated.
Of course, he had to be objective about this. Only photo collection sales would tell the truth of Tamaki-uke’s real attractiveness to the guests, and that was (from this very moment) at least a whole week away in terms of production time.
In the meantime, he calculated what steps would need to be taken by himself to create more Tamaki-bottoming opportunities should they be necessary in the future.
Muraki-sensei wouldn’t be here forever, after all.
9.
When a young man from Class 2-F- a second son of the Oyamada family by the name of Ayase-kun -- went missing for a good three days during Muraki-sensei’s lecture series, Ouran Academy went into a certain state of chaos.
The administration promptly apologized to the good doctor and cancelled two of his lectures in lieu of holding an assembly and silent vigil for the friends and family of the missing boy.
Muraki of course, understood completely. Acting with great aplomb, he generously offered his services as a licensed psychiatrist to the school as well, and any other aid he might be able to render while he was here. He was a great help to the distraught Ouran staff and to many of the students as well, as something like this was very much unprecedented in their school (from which it was presumed Ayase-kun had been abducted).
Though on the other hand, this sort of thing was perhaps not so unprecedented in the students’ larger social circles, considering many of the Ouran attendees (past and present) had been kidnapped at least once as infants and ransomed back to their parents. It was-- at least for the more socially important of them-almost like a rite of passage.
Ayase-kun’s parents and older brother made the obligatory thank you speeches during the assemblies, calling for the hope and vigilance of everyone present, though they were mostly certain the kidnappers would call sometime soon and the whole ordeal would be handled after some obscene amount of money changed hands.
“Thank you for putting my family in your thoughts and prayers during this great time of tribulation,” the boy’s mother told the assembly, to a spattering of sympathetic applause.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Muraki murmured, and patted her hand when she came back from speaking to sit next to him on the stage.
“He’d always wanted to be kidnapped, really,” his mother explained with a small, nervous laugh. “Ever since he heard stories about Reiji’s-his brother’s-kidnapping when he was a baby. Ah, having more than one son is so troublesome! They’re always trying to outdo each other, you know.”
“How tragic,” Muraki said in a placating manner, and continued to pat her hand.
She smiled back, a bit watery-eyed. “We apologize for interfering with your lecture series Muraki-sensei. Really, Ayase has such bad manners for picking a time like this to find trouble. And just the other day he was practically raving about getting to listen to you speak.” She laughed a little. “He’s really quite the fan of yours, you know.”
Muraki smiled. “He must be a nice boy.”
She nodded. “Oh yes. Sixteen years old still and such a wild dreamer.”
Muraki adjusted his glasses and leaned back slightly in his chair. “Sixteen is a wonderful age.”
10.
The day that Muraki-sensei made his formal good-byes to the faculty and student body of Ouran Academy and went back to his research in Kyoto, Mori-senpai made a remarkable (instant) recovery. Ouran as a whole was still waiting for Ayase’s ransom call (people were actually starting to really worry now, as ransom calls usually came within at least the first 72-hours, as stated by the experts in the school who’d experienced similar crises during their youths), but other than that small alteration to the daily life of the students, the academy mostly returned to a relative state of normalcy with the departure of their latest famous guest lecturer.
However, everyone (save Kyouya) noticed that a lock of their hair had appeared to have gone missing during the course of Muraki-sensei’s stay with them.
When they asked the vice-president about it, he simply smiled and said, “I suppose it’s just a fact of nature that scientists will all have weird social quirks, ne?” in an almost amused manner as he calmly adjusted his glasses. Everyone felt a little bit dirty at the prospect, and how easily Kyouya seemed to shrug it off didn’t help their worries any.
Hikaru and Kaoru were, unsurprisingly, the only ones who didn’t get too paranoid about the possibility of one day having clones of themselves running around the planet without their knowledge.
“The world would be a better-looking place,” they agreed, and shrugged at one another simultaneously, before sitting down in unison and sipping instant coffee in tandem.
Haruhi would have been disturbed at how blasé they were about the whole thing, but in retrospect she supposed that if that was what helped them sleep at night… well, it couldn’t be helped, right?
In a similar vein, she reminded herself that Muraki-sensei-by his own words-- was fundamentally uninterested in young women.
END
EDITS SOOOOOOOOOOO NEEDED.