Darya had just entered the third music room when she heard Tamaki's loud declaration of Kyouya's name. She winced at the unhappy sound the laptop's keyboard made as hands came harshly down on it; that couldn't be good. And, apparently, it wasn't, if the irritated look on Kyouya's face and the dangerous tone of his voice were an accurate indication of just how bad it had been. Sensing things were about to explode, and noting that quite a few looks were being shot the way of the Host Club's president and vice-president, Darya quickly swept across the room, stopping next to Kyouya's chair and leaning down, shoving hair back over her shoulder as it tried to fall into her face
( ... )
So when Kyouya saw the laptop whirr back to life, an involuntary sigh escaped him. It wasn’t a sigh of relief or anything; in fact, the exhale had been heavy and slightly haughty, more of a measure to control himself than excitement at being his invaluable laptop saved. Still, he couldn’t lie, and felt a little bit better at seeing the familiar old screen light up like a beacon in the fog. He was always a tad bit uncomfortable without the comfort of his properly functioning laptop. His second brother sometimes teased and called him an addict, but Kyouya always response with a faint snigger and snort; no one in the Ootori house was ever without their trusty computers. Well, except Fuyumi, but she was painfully less than poorly adept at mastering them
( ... )
"Ootori-kun," Darya replied, and she had to muffle a soft laugh behind her hand at Kyouya's greeting and belated smile. Pulling up a chair from a nearby table, she took a seat and cleared her throat as her composure slipped back into place. She was having no problems invade the Shadow King's space; really, she had been planning to bother talk to him again for a while now, and finally she found her chance. It hardly mattered if he was already annoyed.
"You're welcome, good afternoon, and I'm here to talk to you." She smiled mildly, though warmly, not even bothering to seem like she wasn't watching him. "I'd ask you were doing, but that's rather apparent. Unless you want to say you're perfectly peachy; I won't believe you, but I'll nod and smile anyway." With that she shrugged and leaned back in the chair, folding her arms over her stomach and getting comfortable. Darya knew there was a good chance she was just annoying him, but she also knew there was little to no chance that he'd deny a paying customer.
Kyouya regretted the fact that he welcomed all customers into the host club, as he always enjoyed the profit they brought and contributed to the club’s success. As he watched Darya sit down he had to refresh his mind that she was also a customer, and that it would be rude and against host club rules to be unkind to her. Not that he would purposely do so, but whenever she was involved in a conversation he seemed to be a tad slack with his manners and attitude around her than he was with other customer.
Well, maybe not a tad.
Resting an arm on the tabletop near his laptop smoothly, Kyouya tried to broaden his smile just as easily. “Well, then I won’t force you to waste an extra gesture of politeness. I’m surprised you’ve come to seek me specifically. Uncharacteristically amiable of you, not to be rude, but I thought you preferred to avoid me when possible. What throe led you to this spontaneous feat?” He raised his eyebrows at her gently, indicating no intentional discourtesy.
After being scolded by the Shadow King, Tamaki had characteristically retreated to a small corner, tracing his fingers in endless circular patterns over the tiled floor. Softly muttering to himself as he did so, the gloomy blonde racked his brain for solutions to the problem
( ... )
"All customers are participating by voting for one of three teams on the day of the Bake Off," explained Kyouya, raising his eyes above his glasses at Tamaki and Darya in turn. Then he shrugged. "Well, the finer details have yet to be worked out but the basics of it is simply a baking competition among the hosts, where the customers would be our voters and..." he paused, seeing a flaw in this idea. "Tamaki," he said, looking over to the blonde slowly. "Have we decided on a prize for the winning team?"
Darya looked up and back at Tamaki, taking the rose from the exuberant blond with a warm smile and a bit of a laugh -- really, Tamaki was just too charming, and even she wasn't completely immune to it -- and allowing herself a moment to idly wonder which lucky florist was making a small fortune providing all those roses. Fingers running lightly over the petals, she nodded.
"I've heard about it, yes. It seems to be all quite a few people are talking about." Word spread around Ouran High School like fire through a gasoline-drenched field of dried grass; even faster if the news involved the Host Club. "I'll vote, of course." Why wouldn't she? The very idea of the hosts trying to cook struck her as downright bizarre, and perhaps a bit worrying.
"Do any of you even know how to cook?" Her tone suggested that she really meant do either of you know how to cook; she'd be honestly surprised if Kyouya did, though perhaps not as much if Tamaki knew how to throw at least a couple of dishes together.
“Cook? Of course not.” Kyouya smiled, deeply amused at the idea. “Who in this school does know how to cook? Well, excluding our commoner friend,” he glanced across the room at Haruhi, before turning back to Darya. “This Bake Off is nothing big. Publicity, if you please. And a little entertainment fueled by Tamaki and the Twins. There are renowned chefs and excellent cooks that are available for that day. Everything we did is just a dial button away.” He pulled out his cellular phone and flicked it open. Cook indeed.
A... prize? Well, considering that it was the twins that had caused him to think of the idea, and he was involved as well... Tamaki was quite surprised that Kyouya hadn't already suggested a prize similar to that of the "Figure out Haruhi's Weakness Game". Wait... should a father be wanting something like that? For shame Tamaki! For shame! Wanting such pictures of his cute, adorable, lovely, magnificent, stunning, flourishing little daughter
( ... )
Kyouya's eyes shifted to his now empty hand, and lack of cellular phone. Then he turned to the Tamaki and the valuable black phone held hostage in the blonde's hand. What was all this fuss about? Cook? Geniality? Honesty? Yes, yes, the Host Club was all about that, and even Kyouya had his morals, not to mention that the issue of all cordialness with others of high social status existed in every speck of dust in their rich society but--honestly.
"Do you even know how to cook?" Kyouya asked skeptically, looking straight into Tamaki’s purple eyes. They were positively shining with truth, justice, and love. What a true Hero. Right out of one of those comic books Renge loved so much, if you will. "Be perfectly honest with me, Tamaki, have you ever managed to pull off any culinary success? And I am not speaking of anything you had people in your kitchens help you with. I mean, by yourself."
He raised an eyebrow expectantly. He did not doubt that Tamaki had some knowledge of cooking. But knowledge and actual skill were two different
( ... )
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
( ... )
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
( ... )
Not being anywhere near fluent in French, Darya gazed calmly at Tamaki as he got his rambling out of his system. At least is was happy rambling, and not upset, over-dramatic rambling.
"Cheesecake is fairly easy," she replied, nodding. Cheesecake could actually be the best option. "We could do chocolate cheesecake, or something with fruit -- raspberries, maybe?" Darya mused, her eyes starting to light up with excitement. Tamaki's mood was catching, it seemed. "My mother collects cookbooks; I can bring some recipes tomorrow."
Kyouya looked at her blankly. "What'll we do with them?" he asked. He meant the cookbook, and the recipes. Unfortunately the idea of actually 'baking' had yet to properly register and settle into his head, and Kyouya was shrouded in confusion as to why she would bring them to school. What were they to do with the recipes? Bake them? Practice? How?
Tamaki took Darya's hands in his own, a large and rather silly grin on his face. "That sound's wonderful, Darya-san! I'm sure we can make some nice little design to put on top with the fruits, and maybe some inside too, ne?"
When he heard Kyouya's question, the blonde boy turned around and smiled at his friend. "Why, I'm sure we can make a few cakes before hand and practice around with the fruit and what tastes better, you know?" He put one hand to his chin and struck a pose that was made for thinking up great plans.
"We might be able to go to my house! Shima shouldn't mind if you come over." His bright blue eyes bounced back and forth between his two team members; he was grinning still and could feel a prideful glow. Otou-saaaan is so happpy~~~~
"Maybe we could make a cheesecake with layers?" Darya thought out loud, already trying to remember which fruits were in season at the moment. Fingers linked with Tamaki's, she let the blond's answer to Kyouya's question stand for her as well -- it was what she would have said, anyway, though with a lot less sarcasm.
"Practicing would be wonderful. That way we'll all know what to do they day of the contest." Her eyes flickered to Kyouya; apparently he still hadn't quite wrapped his mind around actually baking.
Well, he would have to, at some point. No doubt it would be amusing when he did --- or at least Darya hoped it would be.
"Sounds like a plan," Darya replied, being quietly excited instead of loudly enthusiastic like her French classmate.
Comments 36
Reply
Reply
"You're welcome, good afternoon, and I'm here to talk to you." She smiled mildly, though warmly, not even bothering to seem like she wasn't watching him. "I'd ask you were doing, but that's rather apparent. Unless you want to say you're perfectly peachy; I won't believe you, but I'll nod and smile anyway." With that she shrugged and leaned back in the chair, folding her arms over her stomach and getting comfortable. Darya knew there was a good chance she was just annoying him, but she also knew there was little to no chance that he'd deny a paying customer.
Reply
Well, maybe not a tad.
Resting an arm on the tabletop near his laptop smoothly, Kyouya tried to broaden his smile just as easily. “Well, then I won’t force you to waste an extra gesture of politeness. I’m surprised you’ve come to seek me specifically. Uncharacteristically amiable of you, not to be rude, but I thought you preferred to avoid me when possible. What throe led you to this spontaneous feat?” He raised his eyebrows at her gently, indicating no intentional discourtesy.
Reply
Reply
Reply
"I've heard about it, yes. It seems to be all quite a few people are talking about." Word spread around Ouran High School like fire through a gasoline-drenched field of dried grass; even faster if the news involved the Host Club. "I'll vote, of course." Why wouldn't she? The very idea of the hosts trying to cook struck her as downright bizarre, and perhaps a bit worrying.
"Do any of you even know how to cook?" Her tone suggested that she really meant do either of you know how to cook; she'd be honestly surprised if Kyouya did, though perhaps not as much if Tamaki knew how to throw at least a couple of dishes together.
Reply
Reply
Reply
"Do you even know how to cook?" Kyouya asked skeptically, looking straight into Tamaki’s purple eyes. They were positively shining with truth, justice, and love. What a true Hero. Right out of one of those comic books Renge loved so much, if you will. "Be perfectly honest with me, Tamaki, have you ever managed to pull off any culinary success? And I am not speaking of anything you had people in your kitchens help you with. I mean, by yourself."
He raised an eyebrow expectantly. He did not doubt that Tamaki had some knowledge of cooking. But knowledge and actual skill were two different ( ... )
Reply
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 ( ... )
Reply
“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 ( ... )
Reply
"Cheesecake is fairly easy," she replied, nodding. Cheesecake could actually be the best option. "We could do chocolate cheesecake, or something with fruit -- raspberries, maybe?" Darya mused, her eyes starting to light up with excitement. Tamaki's mood was catching, it seemed. "My mother collects cookbooks; I can bring some recipes tomorrow."
Reply
Reply
When he heard Kyouya's question, the blonde boy turned around and smiled at his friend. "Why, I'm sure we can make a few cakes before hand and practice around with the fruit and what tastes better, you know?" He put one hand to his chin and struck a pose that was made for thinking up great plans.
"We might be able to go to my house! Shima shouldn't mind if you come over." His bright blue eyes bounced back and forth between his two team members; he was grinning still and could feel a prideful glow. Otou-saaaan is so happpy~~~~
Reply
"Practicing would be wonderful. That way we'll all know what to do they day of the contest." Her eyes flickered to Kyouya; apparently he still hadn't quite wrapped his mind around actually baking.
Well, he would have to, at some point. No doubt it would be amusing when he did --- or at least Darya hoped it would be.
"Sounds like a plan," Darya replied, being quietly excited instead of loudly enthusiastic like her French classmate.
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment