𝐋𝐞 𝐑𝐞̂𝐯𝐞𝐮𝐫 // 𝐓𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐒𝐮𝐨𝐡

i. The Prince

— JAPAN IS certainly an intimidating country. Especially to those without talent in its language. (Y/N) (L/N), a foreign exchange student from Roubaix, France, was lost.

But could you blame him? Ouran Academy was a maze of a building. With its blindingly waxed halls and horribly bright colour scheme, it made the (H/C)-haired boy squint so hard his forehead ached. It was never this... grand, at Saint-François-d'Assise back at home. Ouran was big and looming and scary and... big.

In fairness, the uniforms were stylish. The boys uniforms, anyway. (He felt immense pity for the girls who were forced to wear those horrid yellow dresses. Blegh) The blazers were surprisingly comfortable, though, the ties were a tad constricting. He couldn't imagine playing anything with that fashionable noose around us neck.

He silently cursed as he continued to walk for what seemed like forever. Perspiration ran down the nape of his neck, his violin case thumping against his back. He was beginning to feel very stuffy in his blazer.

Finally, a door blessed him with its presence. He heaved a ginormous sigh, a grin now glued to his face. The boy began to jog, eager to find tranquility in a hopefully empty classroom.

Opening the door brought more shock than solace. There he saw, in all of his Frenchman shock, was a scrawny brunette surrounded by shards of china and six tall boys surrounding him.

"C'est quoi ça...?"

— "ANOTHER OPENLY gay scholar?" a ginger boy said, dumbfounded. "Huh, weird."

(Y/N) felt his cheeks glow red, praying he had a hoodie to hide in. But he didn't, not this time. (Y/N) whipped his violin case across his chest, desperately trying to hide behind its smooth, black surface. A few of the boys chuckled at him, one of the tallest with a mop of blond hair, beginning to wander towards him.

"Bonjour, little scholar." he welcomed. "Welcome, to the Ouran High School Host Club!" (Y/N) quirked his eyebrow. 'Wait.. what kind of high school has a host club?' he thought. But then, his eyes began to sparkle, as if they were dowsed with pure sunlight.

He bounced on his heels in excitement, moving his violin to his back once more as he gripped the blond's hands. He hopped to reach the lanky boy's cheeks, kissing both in greeting.

"Enfin!" he exasperated in relief. "Quelqu'un pour parler Français avec moi!"

"...huh?" (Y/N) didn't hear him and continued to hop around like a happy bunny, embracing the boy so tightly the blond could feel a few of his ribs crack.

"Je t'aime! Je t'aime grand garçon! Je t'adore! Enfin, sauve-moi s'il vous plaît! Je ne sais pas rien ici! Je suis trés reconnaissant vous êtes ici! Merci beaucoup, merci beaucoup!"

The blond glanced around for help, his cheeks getting pinker the more this random boy snuggled into his chest. The boy purred like a kitten, obviously relieved about something and glad to see Tamaki Suoh for some reason. He was spouting French so fast that Tamaki couldn't keep up. All he heard was. "Speak French with me!", "I love you, I love you tall boy, I adore you!", "thank you so much, thank you so much!".

The blond spat out random sputters, his face getting redder and redder. He was used to girls acting like this around him, never boys. He placed his hands on the boy's shoulders, taking notice of his pretty, (E/C) eyes.

"M-Mon amour.. ah, je suis vraiment désolé, mais.. um." The violet-eyed boy paused for a moment, searching his mind for those lost words he once knew. "Je ne parle pas beaucoup français. Je suis un peu rouillé. Navré."

The shorter boy's eyes went wide for a moment, before he raked his hands through his hair in a frustrated fit. Let's just say, his mother would be glad no one around was able to understand him. The boy gave out one more frustrated growl. Tamaki approached him. It looked like a child trying to pet a rabid dog.

"You're a violinist?" he asked, gesturing to the leather case strapped to the boy's shoulder. He nodded, pushing back his (H/C) hair.

Tamaki held out his hand as if he was asking the boy for a dance. The (H/C)(n)ette raised a brow, his hand slowly finding its way into the blond's palm. He had very smooth skin. Like porcelain, almost.

He laid his other hand flat against his chest, staring at the boy dreamily. He was trying to flirt, and quite frankly, it was working. "My name is Tamaki Suoh. Would you do me the pleasure of playing alongside me?"

(Y/N) felt warm again, which he rolled his eyes at. 'Honestly, (N/N),' he thought in his mother tongue. 'Don't let yourself swoon for this rando.' (Y/N) nodded, following Tamaki without hesitation.

Girls gathered left and right, hovering around the pair like a swarm of flies. (Y/N) removed his blazer and tie, stretching out his neck and shoulders as he rolled up his sleeves. Several girls swooned, trusting their friends to catch them.

(Y/N) rolled his eyes playfully. He couldn't believe these girls, it was genuinely laughable. Although, the attention did feel nice.

Tamaki turned to him, watching (Y/N) handle his instrument as if it were crafted from the most fragile of glass. "So, Mozart? Beethoven? Chopin? Or maybe Tchaikovsky?"

The boy thought for a second. "Hm. Chopin is nice. Nocturne No.20 in C# minor?" Tamaki hummed in thought, reaching out for the boy's waist to pull him closer.

"Whatever you want, mon amour."

(Y/N) glanced at Tamaki, the violin cold against his collarbone. He tapped his foot three times, muttering "un, deux, trois," so only he and his partner could hear.

The pair played beautifully together. Hypnotising the entirety of Music Room 3. (Y/N) swayed his hips gently, his eyes closed and hair out of his face. Many girls began to blush, fawning over this mysterious musician.

Kyoya Ootori ("the cool type") noticed, jotting down notes only he could see. It was impressive that they were so in sync without rehearsal, perhaps these two just both knew the song very well.

For the bridges and scales, (Y/N) grew more focused. Sweat swimming down his chin as his fingers grew tired. Tamaki wasn't far behind, his wrists and joints growing more stiff by the minute. He really should've stretched before this.

They ended off with a crescendo, the pair left breathless. The girls and hosts clapped, all except for two. A red headed girl and a scrawny brunette boy.

(Y/N) turned to Tamaki, his face flushed and breathing heavy. He sent the boy a smile, before he leaned in. Tamaki's eyes grew twice as large when he felt a pair of lips lingering on his cheek. "Merci, mon étoile," the boy whispered, sending shivers through the blond pianist. "But, one more thing..."

"Y-Yes?" Tamaki squeaked, his face a pomegranate red. (Y/N) pointed to the scrawny, disheveled looking boy who's spirit was squirming its way out of his mouth. "Is he breathing?"