If Honey had one thing to complain about after rebirth, it was the lack of cake.
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"3-E?"
The blond nodded, his purple eyes slightly narrowing as his mind drifted to one annoying redhead.
"Yes, we must put them in their place."
The strawberry blon...
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"Listen up, Kyoya, for all the Ladies in the world, we need to open this Host Club!" the juvenile, slightly high pitched voice of a blond child resolutely cried. The blond boy, more than half a meter shorter than the raven head, stood atop of a table, probably to compensate the height difference, as he kept his pointer finger oriented in the dirty-blue eyed male's way.
Kyoya's brows twitched. Although he knew after meeting both Mitsukuni and Takashi that the time of death as well as their age in their former life, didn't dictate how old they were now, he hadn't expected Tamaki to turn into a midget. How to put it, while teen Tamaki could be annoying, he had this inkling that child Tamaki would be even more of a handful. He felt immense respect for Haruhi, who supposedly dealt with him daily even in this life.
"It is our duty, as Hosts, to give every Lady in the world the means to smile and face the day with their chin held high!" he passionately recited, flowers blooming around his childish figure as he swooned atop the table with the breeze that came out of nowhere. None of the people around the table showed a surprised face, long used to the man— child's antics.
Haruhi deadpanned, she tiredly rubbed the bridge of her nose in silent complaining. She wouldn't say that she disliked the idea of hosting once again, but she didn't get how Tamaki would always go into some lyric speeches whenever the matter got mentioned. In all their years as a married couple, he didn't lose the habit, although it got somewhat tamer, she didn't think he would fall so deep the moment two-third of the Host Club got back together.
"Each Lady is a flower waiting to be groomed into the most fragrant and beautiful of roses! A gem waiting to be polished into a diamond!" he claimed, holding his fist high and pulling— a rose? A rose that he brought to his nose to 'handsomely' inhale its fragrance. Petals fluttered around him, and the four swore they hear some shalala in the background.
Takashi listened, his face was stoic and unreadable. His icy-blue eyes focused on the small blond, that waltzed around the table as if it was the catwalk, he felt somewhat nostalgic. He wondered if Tamaki was always this small and if he would grow taller one day. Then his mind drifted to the absent twins. If those two were older than Tamaki, the blond would never see the end of it. He nodded to himself, either way, this was what the Host Club should be like.
Warm, rowdy, and comfortable.
"Do not forget my friend, what makes us the Host Club!" Tamaki proclaimed before posing and lifting up a finger. "One! Good looks that attract the public eyes!" he chanted. He spun on himself, getting into another ridiculous pause and lifting two fingers. "Two! More wealth than you can imagine!" the spotlight that appeared at some point lit up, bringing all focus on his small figure. He lifted up a third finger and stroke one last pose. "Three! Chivalry that will never be able to overlook the hideous wickedness of this world!" he said it all in one breath, and they swore he was left slightly breathless. "That's what makes up the Ouran Host Club!"
