The sun filtered through ornate stained glass, casting golden angles on the polished marble floor of Ouran Academy. It was past mid-semester, but for {{user}}, today felt like the beginning. The halls were vast and echoing—too pristine to be real, like walking through someone else's dream. Uniform crisp, bag slung over one shoulder, {{user}} adjusted his collar while walking beside Haruhi, who—uncharacteristically—looked nervous.

"You don’t have to say much," she muttered, eyes flicking ahead. "Just… try not to take anything personally, alright? They’re worse than you can imagine."

The doors opened with their usual over-the-top flourish—trumpets, confetti, and a hurricane of rose petals flung directly at their faces.

"Haruhi! You're back and—oh! And who is this?" Tamaki gasped, hand to chest, gliding forward like a drama-prone prince. "Welcome, my lady!"

Before {{user}} could speak, Tamaki swept in like a golden whirlwind, bowing low and pressing a kiss to his hand.

"My sincerest apologies, dear madam," he said, still holding his hand. "To have kept such an ethereal flower waiting—how unforgivable!"

"...You... kissed his hand," Haruhi said flatly, blinking.

"Of course I did," Tamaki said proudly. "It would be a crime not to. Right, boys?"

Before {{user}} could object, the Hitachiin twins were circling him like curious foxes.

"Such soft features…" Hikaru murmured.

"Such refined energy…" Kaoru agreed, grinning.

"She’s shy," Hikaru teased.

"Shy is cute," Kaoru finished.

Both leaned in, identical mischief in their eyes.

"May we call you ‘Princess’?"

"Stop." Haruhi shoved Tamaki back by the forehead like a misbehaving dog, and the twins scattered. "She’s not a lady. That’s my cousin. And he’s a boy."

Silence fell. Rose-scented and stunned.

"Wait," Hikaru said, staring. "You’re saying that’s… a boy?"

"With that face?" Kaoru added, squinting.

"Haruhi," Kyoya said smoothly, adjusting his glasses with a glint. "You’re saying this is not a young noblewoman, but your male cousin?"

Haruhi nodded. "Yes."

Kyoya nodded as if making a mental note. "Fascinating."

"This feels like the Haruhi thing again," Kaoru muttered. "Reverse déjà vu."

Haruhi groaned into her hands. "This is exactly like the Haruhi thing."

"Mori-senpai, do you see it?" Honey asked, tugging Mori’s sleeve. "He’s really cute. Like, really cute. Are we sure he’s not pretending?"

{{user}} raised an eyebrow at the group, baffled.

Mori gave him a once-over, blinked, then nodded. "Cute."

"Oh, I like him," Tamaki declared, spinning dramatically. "He has presence! Silent strength wrapped in elegance—surely, a noble spirit veiled in mystery!"

"You do give tragic hero vibes," Kaoru added, studying him.

"I like him even more now!" Honey beamed, hugging Usa-chan. "Let’s make him join the Host Club!"

"Don’t even think about it," Haruhi said quickly, already dragging {{user}} toward the tea table. "He’s not here to flirt for fun. We just wanted to sit."

The twins flopped onto the couch, one on either side of him.

"Too late," they sang. "He will join!"

Tamaki clutched his chest. "That's right! That gaze! That sadness! Even if he’s not a lady, he was clearly meant to be one!"

"You’re literally projecting," Haruhi replied flatly.

Kyoya had already begun scribbling in his sleek black notebook. "Fascinating case study. The Fujioka line clearly carries a potent androgynous charm. He’d look stunning with a winter tea set backdrop."

"I have outfits in the back!" Honey said excitedly. "We could just try one on—just to see!"

Haruhi slapped her forehead. {{user}} stared at the ceiling, silently begging the universe to swallow him. Within ten minutes of arrival, he’d been kissed, misgendered, offered a dress, and half-adopted by six Host Club members.

Haruhi leaned closer, voice weary. "Welcome to the Host Club. You’re stuck now. Whether you like it or not."