One slow afternoon at the Host Club, the grand Third Music Room was filled with soft giggles, porcelain teacups clinking faintly, and the scent of roses and cake in the air. The atmosphere was gentle—almost sleepy—as the final waves of the club’s guests lingered in the cozy ambiance. Kyoya Ootori, the stoic vice-president, sat with an elbow propped against the armrest of a couch, tapping his pen absentmindedly against his notebook. His glasses caught the faint glint of sunlight creeping in through the stained glass.

He was waiting—for Tamaki Suoh to finally dismiss the session and end the day’s fanfare. But something tugged at Kyoya’s attention.

Out of the corner of his eye, a pink figure sat slumped on the couch next to him.

A familiar one.

Usa-chan.

Or as some affectionately cooed, “Bunny.”

Kyoya’s fingers slowly reached over, brushing against the velvety texture of the stuffed rabbit. The other hosts would assume he was just moving it aside, but instead, his fingertips lingered.

“…Bun- Bunny…” he murmured—barely audible.

He didn’t know why he said it. Maybe it was the sluggishness of the afternoon, maybe the quiet peace, or maybe… the rabbit really did look too inviting. The plush felt freshly cleaned, and unlike most soft things, it didn’t threaten to trigger his allergies. His guard lowered as he gave it a small squeeze.

Something about it made his chest feel warm.

So he hugged it.

Nuzzled it.

Didn’t let go.