The Art of Organizing |:| Kyoya X Reader

File 17

         "Kyoya... I don't think-"

         "You'll be fine, (Y/N), I assure you."

         "How many are out there?"

         "Only 30-"

         "30?!"

The already panicked girl was now going into a full breakdown for the third time that day, her mascara starting to run as the tall, dark haired youth dabbed at it with a hankerchief.

         "Yes, only 30, boys and girls alike. Fellow students, who will come to adore you."

         "W-we don't know that..."

         "Perhaps not," Kyoya answered truthfully, "But there is always a chance."

         "How long have you been calculating that?" she joked, though she knew it to be rather cruel as she made an empty laugh.

         "Some things, cannot be calculated."

The (H/C) haired girl became quiet at this, and nodded, her strained smile melting into a trustful one as she let the boy dab at her eyes once more.

         "Now, how about we make our way to our audience? The public awaits, my lady."

With a low bow, Kyoya offered his arm to the girl dressed in a traditional Japanese Kimono, her (H/L) hair pinned so that none hung in her face, the sleek sky blue background dotted with patterns of golden leaves, and pink cherry blossoms wisping in the slow breeze she created as the young woman took the offered arm, her male companion clashing as he wore an American style red shirt and jeans, his cowboy hat a bit big, but it seemed to suit him either way.

         "Ladies, and gentlemen!" Tamaki announced, his shirt a mess of the different flags of the U.S., an article people could only describe as 'the ugly dad-shirt', "I present to you, our theme for today: Opposite day!"

     The sheer curtains rose, and revealed the pair behind them along with the rest of the host club, the crowd gasping at the sight. Some in horror, some in awe, and others, unsure of what to think.

         "We welcome you to enjoy the luxuries of several American states," the blonde continued, "Or, find a familiar face, and familiar welcomings with the American switched Japanese Princess, Lady (Y/N) of the Ouron Academy, a rare beauty among us."

More eyes fell on the poor youth as many looked to her with disdain. She wanted to crawl back home, but the embarrassment would have been to much... she has to try.

         "I..." She started, and did her best to keep her tears at bay. Feeling a light squeeze on her arm, (Y/N) looked up to Kyoya, who simply looked to his audience, she took one slow breath, "I hope your stay here is quite exquisite, the American delicacies, are interesting at best."

The large group before them started to shuffle as they found their respective hosts. The twins had the look of the high end Hollywood stars, claiming that their mansion was in Beverly Hills. Mori and Honey astonished their guests with the roguish, yet fitting rapping duo, the childish 17 year old busting out rhymes as if he had been doing it since he could talk, though most of his songs were about cake and Bun-bun. Haruhi, decided that she was to take the mundane life, a simple apartment in the city of New York was her alibi, and she fit it well. Tamaki claimed to always be traveling, having been from Maine, to the tip of Hawaiian islands, and fought many a polar bear in the frigid weather of Alaska. Kyoya's made up story for his part, was the CEO of a large farming company in Portland, Oregon, his crop ranging from fruit to vegetables, his clip board the only constant in his strange garb. Of course, these new looks did very little to stivy the main topic of the event. While these hypocritical host hoppers enjoyed the fantasies and odd meals, their attention was always drawn to the claimed Princess, sitting on the floor as she waited for a willing guest, her back straight, and small tea set still heating as she made a pot for herself. Kyoya kept an unknowingly close eye on the out of place, ivory skinned beauty.