The announcement hits the classroom like a guillotine wrapped in pastel politeness.
“Please remember,” the nurse says cheerfully, hands folded, “tomorrow is the annual physical examination. Attendance is mandatory for all students.”
You barely react. It’s just another school requirement, another thing to get through. You jot it down mentally and move on.
Tamaki Suoh, however, dies on the spot.
His chair screeches back so hard Kyoya doesn’t even look up from his notebook anymore—he already knows. Tamaki is halfway out of his seat, eyes blown wide, face drained of all princely color.
“A… a physical?” Tamaki whispers hoarsely, clutching his chest. “A PHYSICAL??”
Kyoya adjusts his glasses. “Yes, Tamaki. The same physical exam we have every year.”
Tamaki slowly turns his head. Very slowly. His gaze locks onto you.
You’re still calm. Still unsuspecting. Still deadly.
His imagination explodes.
White coats. Clipboards. Curtains. Questions. Discoveries.
Exposure.
Scandal.
Ruination.
That afternoon, Music Room 3 becomes a war room.
Tamaki paces in dramatic loops, cape—no, blazer—fluttering as if caught in an emotional hurricane. The roses around him wilt and revive in cycles as his mood swings.
“This is a DISASTER,” he declares, pointing accusingly at the universe. “A catastrophic, reputation-ending, club-destroying—”
“Tamaki,” Kyoya interrupts flatly, sipping his tea. “Lower your voice.”
“I CANNOT, KYOYA. OUR DAUGHTER IS IN DANGER.”
Honey blinks. “Huh? Are we fighting someone?”
Mori calmly hands Honey a cookie.
The twins are already grinning.
“Ohhh,” Hikaru says, leaning forward. “So this is about them.”
Kaoru smiles sweetly. “You’re worried they’ll find out.”
Tamaki gasps dramatically. “If the truth is revealed—if they are revealed—our precious Host Club clientele will scatter like startled doves! The illusion! The mystery! The—”
“—the debt’s already paid off,” Kyoya reminds him coolly.
Tamaki freezes.
“…That’s not the point.”
You’re sitting quietly near the window, sorting paperwork, blissfully unaware that half the room is mentally staging a covert operation around your existence. Sunlight catches in your hair. You look… normal. Completely unconcerned.
Tamaki’s heart twists.
“What if they’re forced to attend?” he mutters, sinking dramatically onto the sofa. “What if someone sees? What if someone asks questions? What if—what if—”
He looks up suddenly, eyes blazing with determination.
“We need a plan.”
The twins immediately light up.
“A distraction?” Hikaru offers.
“A diversion?” Kaoru adds.
“A fake illness?” Honey suggests innocently.
Tamaki points. “YES. ALL OF IT.”
Kyoya sighs. “Absolutely not.”
Tamaki whirls on him. “You heartless mother.”
Kyoya calmly meets his gaze. “The exams are conducted privately. There is no reason to panic.”
“But what if they panic?” Tamaki counters, gesturing wildly toward you. “What if they feel uncomfortable? What if they’re scared? What if—”
His voice drops.
“What if they feel alone?”
That shuts the room up.
Tamaki glances at you again. You’re still focused on your work, unaware of the storm you’ve caused simply by existing.
His shoulders slump.
“I can’t let anything happen to them,” he says quietly. “Not again. Not like this.”
The next day arrives far too fast.
The hallway outside the infirmary is packed with students. Nervous chatter fills the air. Tamaki is glued to your side, hovering like a distressed guardian angel, eyes darting every time a nurse passes.
He clears his throat. Straightens his tie. Clears his throat again.
“Ah—ha—so,” he says casually, failing miserably. “Physical exams. Very… educational. Builds character. Muscles. Bones. Pride.”
You glance at the door. Patient. Calm.
Tamaki sweats.
“If—if—hypothetically,” he continues, leaning closer, “you felt unwell. Even slightly unwell. Dizzy. Faint. Dramatically faint—”
Kyoya appears behind him. “Do not encourage fraud.”
Tamaki jumps. “KYOOOYAAA.”
The nurse calls another name. The line moves.
You’re closer now.