BLOOM [OHSHC]

Chapter 28 - Painting Flowers

[A/N: I listened to "Painting Flowers" by All Time Low on repeat while writing this chapter...
just in case you want to know the vibe. Also trigger warning: PTSD/flashbacks.]

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Not to sound like a middle-aged office worker, but fuck Mondays.

Drenched, I stared down at my uniform in equal parts horrified and irritated, watching as the coffee stain seeped from my chest to my shoes, where it soaked into my socks and spurted out the sides of my Converses with every step. What a way to start the new school week. Fuck my life.

"Oh my gosh, Michiyo! I am so so so sorry!" Renge stood opposite me in the hallway, her hand over her mouth and her eyes wide. Somehow her dress made it out of the incident unscathed. Her cup of fancy coffee lay on the floor nearby, lidless and now empty of all of its contents. "I was in such a hurry after waking up late this morning that I didn't even see you... and now your uniform jacket is ruined!"

The sea of students parted around us, making room so no one else got coffee on their clothes. Sure, a lot of them stopped and stared, looking for some kind of gossip, but there was literally nothing there. It was an accident, plain and simple. I wasn't mad, and Renge already apologized; plus it was just clothes. No one was hurt. Easy as that.

It didn't take long for me to be fine with the situation. After living with Mei for so long, I was used to sudden changes of plans, including wardrobe malfunctions like this. "It's not a big deal, Renge," I said, dabbing at the stain on my jacket with a napkin from my bag. "I'll just go see if there's an extra uniform jacket in the lost and found or something. Oh! Maybe Haruhi has a spare one lying around, we're nearly the same size, I think." I shucked off my lavender blazer and tried to work at the stain on my white button-up shirt, but it didn't seem like any of it was going anywhere.

"Hang on... this is just like the bonus ending in Uki Doki Memorial 2, the one where Miyabi Ichijo spilled his no-foam matcha latte on his uniform right before the big project presentation," she blurted, grabbing my sleeve. Renge's eyes unfocused for a second, and then she descended upon me with a wicked grin. "I've got an idea."

With way more strength than I previously thought she was capable of, Renge yanked me down the Ouran hallway, toward the music rooms, where a surprise of terrible proportions awaited me. "Follow meeeee!"

Oh dear god.

🏵

"Michiyo? You—? What—?"

Annoyed to the max, I frowned and plopped down beside Haruhi in Calculus, throwing my bag around a bit to vent my frustrations. "I don't want to talk about it," I grumbled, fighting with my excess of frilly skirts so I could sit in my chair.

Renge went off the rails. The only spare uniform in the Host Club room was... one of the girls' gaudy banana-colored catastrophes. Not only did she cram me into a dress that was at least one size too small for me, she forced me into some heels—because my socks and shoes were 'soaked beyond repair' in her words—and took the liberty of curling my hair and doing my makeup, too. I felt like a doll, and not in a good way. Maybe my sneakers missed me as much as I missed them.

I could feel my classmates' stares as I sat, catching murmurs and bits of rumors already flying. And I was not happy about it.

"Yellow is decidedly not my color," I grunted, slamming my head down on the desk hard enough to hopefully knock myself out... but no fucking luck.

Haruhi patted my shoulder comfortingly. "I mean... it is your rose color, and it does look nice with your hair, if that helps?"

I forced a smile at Haruhi, patting her shoulder in return. "It does not help... but I appreciate the hollow compliment and the kind sentiment."