Ouran Highschool Host Club, 4th generation

Chapter 2-What the h-e double toothpick

(A/N) ALRIGHTY! Imma gonna warn you: sometimes I will randomly post a recap!

~(RANDOM RECAP, GO!!!)~

I stopped abruptly when I saw identical Cheshire cat smiles appear on the twins faces.

"She's perfect!" Honey-chan remarked, squeezing more fluff from Usa-chan. "Indeed she is," Kyoya murmured. He turned to look at Tamaki, "What do you think Tamaki?" Tamaki's face broke out into a smile, "I say..." he paused, "Yes! Perfect! Sakura Suzu!"

My attention snapped to the blond haired maniac standing before me. "From now on, Ms.Suzu, you are in charge of reinstating the host club!

Huh?

What's going on?

And why in the heck am I perfect!?

~(RANDOM RECAP-END!!!!)~

Suzu's POV

The next day I stood, shifting from foot to foot nervously in front of music room 4.

I mulled over the text Kyoya had sent me- I think he might be a stalker... I didn't even give the old man my phone number!

He had told me to be here at six in the fudging morning, and that, if I was late, he knew where I lived. This just reinforced my theory of him being- and the rest of them- pedofiles. I stared at the doorknob. Maybe I should just leave. Go into a life of hiding.

I could study abroad!

As I began to turn around, the door blew open, letting out a moldy scent, dead roses floating out in a spiral. Cautiously, I peered in the doorway, only to be greeted by-

My newest pedofile freinds dressed up as Greek gods.

~•~

Stepping through the door, I narrowed my eyes at the old men, their togas showing of their brilliantly sagging pecs. Tamaki was dressed up as Zeus, lord of the skies, with a tinfoil lightning bolt in his hand.

Weren't these people rich? I'm pretty sure they could splurge to get at least a cheap knockoff of a lightning bolt. Heck, they could buy the real thing.

Kyoya held a clipboard in one hand, and a Trident in the other. The twins had identical Hermes outfits on, wings on their sandals and helmets. Mori was donning an Ares outfit, fake boars head in hand. And Honey- Honey, the creepy old man, was hunched over in a shriveled mess in the corner, muttering about how 'he wasnt that short and 'he wanted to dress up as a god too. Honey was only wearing a simple toga, with no accessory.

Eyes widening, I opened my mouth slightly, "What the hell?"

I heard a gasp, and suddenly Honey was in front of me, furiously clutching Usa the rabbit, "You said a bad word!" I stared at the probably arthritis ridden elder.

Did he really just say that?

Aw, hell no.

The gasp sounded again, "You said it again!"

Oops, did I say that out loud? My bad.

But who cares anyway? Wasn't this guy like, eighty something? I'm sure he's cussed before.

Puffing out his cheeks, the old man crossed his arms and said, "That's it." In a flash I was being dragged across the floor, me yelling every profanity I could think of. With every curse, his bony grip got tighter, until I couldn't feel my fingertips anymore. Honey promptly throws me in the corner, and threatens to take away all my cake privileges if I move. I didn't even know I had cake privileges. But, all the same, I stay put, brooding.