Comes up Roses

Prologue

"I don't believe in love."

She'd said it casually. Stupidly. Didn't Masae know that she could never be candid with Tamaki Suoh?

Suoh gasped. The type of gasp that he trademarked: the steal-all-the-air-out-of-the-room type of gasp. Even though they were outside, the air pressure dropped exponentially.

Then, he rounded on her. Eyes wide, a finger pointing accusingly at her. Masae wished that she hadn't walked out with him– had waited in the club room for a few moments before she made her exit. She had been hasty, that was her mistake, but the sight of her car from the music room window had beckoned to her. Could she really be blamed for wanting to go home on a Friday?

"How can you not believe in love!" Cried Suoh, loud enough to wake the dead. A few paces ahead of them, a group of loitering girls startled. They turned to glare at Suoh, but forgot their irritation upon catching sight of him.

Masae flushed up to her ears. "Suoh!" She hissed, casting a furtive glance at the girls. They may not be able to hold a grudge against their beloved prince, but what armor did she have against their distaste? She had a reputation to uphold!

"How can you not believe in love?" Suoh continued his tirade without formally acknowledging her, though he did lower his volume. "You work for a Host Club!"

"As a secretary," replied Masae. "And if you get down on one knee to volunteer to show me the wonders of love, I'll quit."

Suoh looked downright hurt, though she knew she had been correct in her judgment of him. Masae had observed him in his natural element long enough to know when he was about to start making sweeping declarations of affection. She hadn't the time nor patience to be on the receiving end of it.

"Listen, Suoh, my feelings about love really don't interfere with my job, so I don't see any need to discuss them. Can we just drop this?" Masae was practically begging him– she was prepared to get down on her knees and plead if it meant she didn't have to have this conversation with the prince of the Host Club. But ever the spoiled brat monarch, Suoh didn't care much for what she wanted.

He gave her his best puppy dog stare, violet eyes glistening with unshed tears. A less prepared girl might have given into them.

"But you don't understand, Masae," Suoh replied, rather irritatingly using her first name. "I don't care how well you do your job, I want you to feel loved because you're my friend. It's the job of a high school Host to make all our ladies feel special, and that includes our lady secretary."

The nerve of him! First he assumed they were friends, then Suoh assumed responsibility for her. Masae bit her tongue, reminding herself that they were coming to the parking lot now, and she would have only a few more moments of Suoh before going home for the weekend.

But she had to get him off this topic. If Masae let this fester, he was going to call her over the weekend or– God forbid– show up at her house. Politely but firmly, she said, "Don't worry on my behalf, Suoh, my life is very satisfying. And I mean you no offense, but the Host Club's brand of transactional love was the last nail in the coffin, to be honest."

He looked absolutely flabbergasted– no, mortified– no, heartbroken. There were too many emotions on Suoh's face to possibly put into words, so Masae was relieved when she saw the long black luxury car that would take her home. She made a break for it, leaving the prince of the Ouran Host Club in her dust.

🤍🤍🤍

Was Masae slightly more self-aware, she might have seen the classic blunder she'd just fallen into. Because in trying to avoid leaving Tamaki on a cliffhanger, she'd put him on an even higher cliff.

Tamaki stared after the Aoki private car as it left the Ouran parking lot, mouth slightly agape.

He had no idea their fair secretary had such jaded views on love! Sure, she was quiet, perhaps a bit terse, and often conservative. But always polite. And so pretty– with her perfect porcelain skin and light brown hair. It wasn't as if she couldn't find love, if only she would put herself out there a bit.

Tamaki spun on his designer heel in the direction of the school. He could see his car pulled up to the curb, but his driver would have to wait for a few moments longer. There were more pressing matters for the Host king to attend to.

His model-long legs strode back up the walkway and into the school on autopilot, as Tamaki's pretty mind was fixed solely on their secretary.

He wasn't entirely sure what the issue was here, but Tamaki knew that he could fix it. He chuckled to himself in a wholly charming manner. If there was anything Tamaki Suoh excelled at, it was imbuing high school-aged girls with love.

He navigated the pink halls of Ouran Academy with practiced ease. There were few students around at this time on a Friday, most of them having gone home quickly for the weekend. While there were a couple clubs open on Friday afternoons, none of them got in Tamaki's way.

As such, he reached music room three in record time. Tamaki threw open the door. Rose petals rained down over him.

"Men!" He cried to the five boys gathered. "Our fair lady secretary has a self esteem problem. We have work to do!"

🥀🥀🥀

Masae, either luckily or unluckily, had no idea of the Hosts conspiring about her as her car made its way to her home. She had very little idea of anything, actually, as she put in earphones to block out the world and focus on homework. Masae didn't typically have much time for homework after school, between her own personal responsibilities at home and balancing books for the Hosts.

She had been working for the Host Club for nearly two years– as long as she'd been in high school. Initially, she'd been asked by Kyoya Ootori to serve as an informal but paid secretary, because the dark-haired boy's workload was far too much for one person alone, but was promoted to official secretary of the Host Club within a few months.

Her jobs included planning, shopping, organizing, and allotting funds towards whatever shenanigans Tamaki Suoh and his Hosts wanted to do– that is, when Ootori wasn't micromanaging it himself. All in all, Masae often found herself working harder for the Host Club than she did for anything else– and for what? So Suoh could harass her about her love life?

Masae sighed, setting down her school book in her lap. The words on the page were blurring together and she hadn't taken out paper for notes. It hadn't been a difficult school day or even a particularly hard day with the Hosts, but that damned conversation with Suoh was eating at Masae's brain. Why had she told him about her personal life? Not that it could be undone now.

The car came to a stop before the Aoki estate and a waiting valet opened the door. Masae hurried to put her things back in her leather handbag and nodded to the valet as she exited the car.

The Aoki estate was an imitation of an American colonial mansion, covered with windows. Her father had built Masae's childhood home for her mother as a wedding present.

Her stepmother was standing on the massive porch, wearing a long cardigan and what was essentially a nightdress. Den Aoki wasn't the lazy type– Masae's father wouldn't have married her after his first wife ran out on him if that was the case– but she certainly didn't like dressing up if she didn't have to. Masae judged her for it. She and her father both took great care to look nice at all times, so why couldn't her stepmother match that ethic?

Still, it wasn't her place to bring it up. Masae forced a smile as Den came to greet her. "Hello. Were you waiting for me?"

Den laughed a little. "No, dear. I was waiting for your father."

Masae didn't pry for any more information; they didn't have that sort of relationship. Instead she said, "Alright, then. I'll go inside."

Den's smile followed her, but it didn't really meet her eyes. The two of them had never gotten close after Masae's father remarried– their age gap was close enough that they could be sisters. It wasn't Masae's place to openly disapprove of the relationship, but that didn't mean she couldn't think it.

But it was Friday and it didn't matter. Masae put her head down as she made her way towards her room, confident in the fact that there was no one to see her posture slip. She was at ease; she didn't know what Tamaki Suoh was planning.