Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ Product of Excellent Breeding ❯ Product of Excellent Breeding 3 ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Product of Excellent Breeding

Chapter 3

Its 3 pm and the Host Club is open for business.
“Haruhi is everything alright? You seem rather distracted today,” Kyoya inquires. He has noticed the girl seems preoccupied, no, worried is more accurate.
Haruhi looks up in surprise. How long had he been standing there, for how long has he been observing her, as normal as it is when it comes to the bespectacled teen, it still unnerves her. Of all the boys in the club The Shadow King is by far the most observant and also the one she least expects to ask about her wellbeing.  Then it occurs to her.
“You are just worried my being distracted will affect the club ratings,” she says, it’s not a question, nor an accusation; she just calls them as she sees them.
Kyoya keeps his face neutral but in his mind he frowns. That is not the reason he asked, he had actually been concerned about her, only god knows why. Now he is starting the question his judgment in trying to comfort her. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, but an impulse, he had asked her before even registering what or why he was doing it. He decides to play it easy.
“It is part of my responsibilities to make sure the hosts are fit to attend to our customers.  The Host’s wellbeing is crucial, for it reflects directly on the service said host imparts,” he explains coolly.
“It figures,” she mumbles under her breath.
This time Kyoya does frown. “Just remember Haruhi you are no longer obligated to be here by dept.”
Haruhi’s eyes widen in surprise.
“If you have more pressing or personal matters to attend to you are free to leave whenever you’d like, it’s not like you’ll be punished for skipping club hours. If you require any assistance, let me or one of the other members know. All of us are more than willing to help. Now if you excuse me.” With that Kyoya walks away.
Haruhi stands perplexed, had she just been spoken to kindly and offered help by Kyoya-sempai without having to pay? She watches him make a circuit around the room to make sure everything is going well, pausing to chastise first the twins and then Tamaki; before sitting at a small table with his laptop, black notebook , a calculator and what looks like a stack of bills. The cross-dresser girl sighs; he had been polite and seemed genuinely concerned, the least she can do is talk to him.  
Kyoya can’t explain why he feels irritated by her comments. It is the image he has forged around himself. Not even the member of the club could tell otherwise, not even Tamaki, who claims to know him and saw through him when they first met. Still Haruhi is different she has seen the truth, and called it to his face more than once, so why would she think he is being insincere. Hadn’t it been put out in the open at the Ouran Fair that they are a family of sorts; that they are closer to each other more than any of them cares to admit. He is distracted from this line of thought as the would-be-boy sits across from him. Kyoya had expected her to either leave or to go to Tamaki or maybe the twins, certainly he hadn’t thought she’d take his offer and come to him. The vice-president closes his laptop and puts down his pen, giving Haruhi his undivided attention.
“I’m sorry Kyoya-sempai, for being so rude.”
“Don’t worry about it, there was no disrespect intended,” he says politely without losing a beat.  
“The truth is I’m worried about my dad,” she admits answering his first question.
“Is he ill?” he asks, for some reason it worries him, he really likes the eccentric man.
“No, he… being an Okama some of the customers get a little infatuated with him, it’s usually harmless lavishing. But last night a drunken guy got too pushy, dad got him thrown out. It seems he waited outside for dad to clock out; dad felt he was being followed so instead of coming home he went to an old friend’s house. It turned out he was being followed by the same guy,” she explains, so many emotions coloring her tone.
Kyoya listens, the more Haruhi tells him the more he dislikes the situation.
“It’s not the first time it happens, most times the guys stop once they are sober, and dad laughs it off as being a beautiful woman.”
“But not this time,” he concludes.
She nods in affirmative to his observation. “Last night when Mr. Seiichiro called to tell me what happened, he said dad was really shaken; that man scared my dad to tears,” she says close to tears herself.
Kyoya is not exactly surprised by the fact that he feels almost as upset as Haruhi. “What actions is your father planning on taking?”
“I dunno, I haven’t seen him yet. He spent the night at Mr. Seiichiro’s.”
“I see, it is a serious matter. Your father needs to be careful; one never knows what that kind of obsession can make a man do.” That makes her more alarmed, it is not his intention but mere facts. “As it is I can offer your father an escort, two or three men from the Ootori police to guard him during his shift and a car to take your father to and from work,” he offers.
“I guess that is an idea, but I have to ask dad what he wants to do. But thanks for the offer sempai and thanks for your concern, it’s very kind of you.”
“It’s really no problem,” he says suppressing both a smile and a blush at her sincere praise.
The rest of the afternoon passes quietly, as quiet as it can be inside the music room three. As Haruhi gathers her bag to leave Kyoya approaches her again.
“Haruhi, please remember my offer, let me know if your father agrees and I’ll send him an escort right away.”
“I will, thank you again Kyoya-sempai.” She bows politely and hurries home to her father.

Ranka arrives home a little after three. The moment he closes the door an uneasy feeling at being alone settles over him. He glances at the clock; Haruhi is in the middle of club time and would be arriving home soon. The okama decides he is going to cook dinner, it would distract him and he could spend some time with his daughter before he has to leave for work. He moves with ease in his little kitchen, glancing nervously at either the clock or the door every so often; as he cooks rice, dices beef and chops vegetables. A key hits the lock and Ranka holds his breath. A second later Haruhi bursts through the door looking anxiously around.
“Dad!” she calls even before entering the apartment properly, a swift scan of room and she sees her father standing by the stove. One look at him and she can see the fear and anxiousness mix with relief at seeing her. “Oh Dad!” Haruhi lets her bag fall to the floor and hurries to hug her father.
Ranka hugs her furiously, buries his face in her hair indulging in the rare display of affection on Haruhi’s part. “Welcome home Haruhi,” his voice tight as he fights emerging tears. He will not cry in front of her, he will not worry her more than he already has.
“Dad, are you okay…?” she started, but Ranka waves her off.
“Yes, yes of curse sweetie. Now why don’t you go and change while I finish cooking. We can have dinner before I leave for my shift,” he says cheerfully not giving Haruhi the chance to ask about the last night’s incident.
They had dinner with Ranka rambling cheerfully none stop. Then he sent Haruhi to do her homework while he gets ready for work.

Haruhi knows what her father is doing. He tries to pretend he is okay to prevent her from worrying, but it is too late for that she is worried more than he can imagine and avoiding the subject won’t solve anything. With her mind set the girl goes to her father’s room and waits for him to come out of the shower. While she waits she looks around the room. It is the smallest room in the apartment. When Haruhi started to grow into a young lady Ranka moved out from what had been his and her mom’s room into Haruhi’s and vice versa, claiming that a young woman needs her space and privacy.
“Haruhi?”
She turns around to face her dad and is somewhat surprised at the unusual image. Ranka stands at the door way a towel wrapped around his waist, another towel hanging from his shoulders absorbing the dampness of his wet hair, no makeup on his face. All in all he looks like a man, a very long haired man albeit, and Haruhi wonders when she had stopped thinking about her father as a man.
“Is there something wrong Haruhi?” he asks in a gentle fatherly tone.
“Dad, are you sure you should be going to work tonight?” she asks in turn.
He stares at her taken aback for a moment, but recovers quickly. “It will be fine, besides I need to alert the other ‘girls’,” he explains dismissively. “So don’t you worry. Now, I really need to get ready,” he hints for her to leave so he can get dress.
“I’m not done with what I have to say dad. You can get ready while you listen,” she states seriously.
“What?! But… Haruhi I’m…I,” he gestures to the towel around his waist indicating he is naked under it.
“You used to bathe with mom and I all the time,” she says matter-of-factly. She doesn’t understand why he hesitates; before her mother died they used to go to public coed bath houses, they even bathed together in the tiny tub in their apartment, all three of them squeezed in the hot water. Those good times stopped soon after her death.  Just like Haruhi had stopped eating breakfast, her dad stopped bathing and changing in front of her; but unlike her, who started to eat in the mornings again, Ranka never bathed with her again.
With a sigh Ranka relents. “Alright I’m listening,” he says walking to a chest of drawers, he starts rummaging in his underwear drawer.
Haruhi is amazed at the wide variety she had never seen so many different types of panties.
“Dad I spoke with Kyoya-sempai at the club and he offered to give you an escort for when you go to work,” she informs.
Ranka looks surprice. “Why would he do that? There is no way I can afford that kind of service,” he says finally picking a pair of black laced boy-shorts. He pulls them on under the towel, once they are secure in place, only then he removes the towel from his hips.
Haruhi rolls her eyes the under garment is completely see-through, he might as well be naked.
“He didn’t said anything about paying dad,” she adds, watching him walk to the full-length mirror to tuck his genital back properly and she wanders briefly if it’s painful, at the very least it must be uncomfortable.  
“Haruhi you know, with him, it goes without saying. Kyoya-kun doesn’t do anything without personal gain.” He picks a pair of black laced bras and fastens them on expertly then stuffing the empty cup with fake silicon breasts.
“I thought the same, but when he offered to escort you he seemed genuinely concerned,” the brunette explains. Her father looks puzzled at that. “He seems to have change after the festival,” she adds mostly to herself. “I think you should take his offer, at least for a few nights to be safe.”
The okama moves to his closet and picks out his outfit for tonight, a knee length, tight fighting, spaghetti-strapped black dress.  He returns to the drawers and digs out a pair of thigh high black stockings.
“I know you are worried Haruhi,” he quickly pull up the stockings. “But I’ll be fine,” he puts on his dress. “I am a man after all I can take care of myself,” he adds with a wink as he checks his appearance in the tall mirror.
The comment throws Haruhi off; and not because of the paradox of the situation of hearing such words coming from a man posing very convincingly as a woman.  Is her concern for him based on the fact that he appears like a woman? Can this kind of concern be gender biased? It reminds her of that time at the beach, Tamaki had been furious at her for taking on those guys by herself. The logic of that situation still eludes her. Is it alright for her father to face a possible attack; is it alright to assume he will not be harm in a confrontation just because he is a man? She doesn’t think it is right but what else can she do? She has expressed her concerns and opinion but it’s ultimately her dad’s choice what to do.
She sighs, “Alright, have it your way, but please be careful dad.”
The worry is evident in her voice and when Ranka looks at her, the expression in his daughter’s face tugs at his heart.
“I will be sweetheart I promise. Try not to worry too much, that is my job as a parent,” he says warmly.
He doesn’t have the time to dry his hair so he picks it up in a stylish ponytail; he quickly and expertly applies his makeup, he eyes his looks critically in the mirror and deems himself acceptable and gathers his purse, coat, cellphone and keys.
“Don’t stay up too late and remember to lock up. I love you Haruhi,” and with that he is out leaving a very worried daughter.
Haruhi locks the door behind him and slowly makes her way to the living\dining area, she knees before her mother’s memorial altar, she lights a new incense stick and puts her hands together in prayer.
“Please take care of him mom.”