Host Club's Misery Buisness

A Day in the Life of the Suzuki Family

Winter break starts and I'm just about done with my make-up work, which I wouldn't have to do if I hadn't missed the last two weeks of the term, which wouldn't have been the case if I didn't have to stay home because of all the bruises Ryukyu gave me. Not that this isn't normal, but he's gotten so desperate lately he's been going to the gay bar all week. When he's drunk all he ever talks about is this "Ranka". But despite all that winter break has begun, Ryukyu spends all his time in his room sleeping, and until the next term begins the Host Club is a distant memory. I went shopping, sat through breakfast without getting knives thrown at me, and finished all my make up work. Now I've positioned myself near our back window with a clear view of the near-winter landscape, I can finally take my time now that the Host Club isn't breathing down my neck. But now that I think about it, ever since I "joined" the Host Club all I've ever painted was their "your-life-savings-couldn't-cover-this" cosplay, I've been painting like their little work dog. I finish my rough sketch of the landscape and move on to the shading and value, I decide black-and-white would be best for this one. I lose my focus when I hear, what might as well be a tornado, coming from the unit right above us.

Ryukyu slides open his door, "Damn-it Rikku, how many times have I told you to keep it down!"

"Sorry brother, it won't happen again." just what the hell is Haruhi doing up there.

"You're damn right it won't!" he yells.

He closes his door and I try to get back to my drawing, what I didn't realize was that I had made a heavy pencil mark right across my paper. Frustrated, I start over and manage to get to the charcoal, and then I hear another sound and smear the charcoal all over the paper. By the time I'm done I have six consecutive "do-over's" balled up on the floor around me, but something inside me told me this wasn't a coincidence. I put my fleece-lined bomber jacket over my black and grey striped sweater and my dark-washed boot-cut jeans and head upstairs to check on Haruhi.

"My God, she better be fucking dying for her to make that much noise..." I say to myself as I climb the rickety old steps to the upper level of the condominium.

I make it to unit 206 and knock on the door. Haruhi greets me through a crack in the door. "Oh you're still alive. In that case you're dead." she was too jumpy to respond to what I was saying.

She locks my shoulder in an iron grip, "Oh Rikku you must stay for tea," she flashes me this strange look. "I insist."

"Well alright I guess, but just keep it down my brother's-", I walk inside and see six male faces staring at me. Haruhi quickly locks the door behind me. I feel around for her shirt collar and grabbed it pulling her closer to me. I attempt to whisper, "What is wrong with you? If you know the meaning of the word "vacation", then why did you bring Them. Here."

"It's not my fault, they invited themselves." she rationalizes.

Now the rest of the club is just staring at me, I creep over to the end of the table and sit criss-cross style,"I hate to break your pattern, but you don't have to sit like that. There's plenty of room."

All of them are sitting around talking to Haruhi's... father, I think. It's hard to tell under all the make-up, skirt, flamboyancy, and the stage name… Ranka? I don't even want to know. For some reason the Host Club thinks when you barge into someone else's home uninvited that gives you the right to ask for lunch, they're lucky Haruhi's too nice to tell them to-

"So Rikku I've heard you live close by, so how often do you visit Haruhi?" of course the stalker would want to know that. But there's no way I'm letting them barge up in my place.

I don't see any point in lying to him, "Well I do live close by..." where is something Kyoya could find out on his own. So he might as well hear it from me, "I live one floor down actually."