Ouran High school, as an act of kindness (Filled with condescension), decided to use some of their extra money to open a school for the talented yet underprivileged youth in the area. When that school gets burned to the ground, with everything inside either destroyed or stolen, the students need a place to go. For appearances sake, they are all admitted to Ouran High itself right alongside the rich kids.

Harley is one of those students. With her white hair, pale skin, bright blue doe eyes, and commoner clothes she sticks out like a sore thumb.

The host club takes notice.

All she notices is that she hates their fucking guts.

Harley's P.O.V

I sat on the cushy window-seat with my headphones secured, using my hair to block out visions of "subtle" glances being thrown my direction. Normally, I would just find somewhere else to sit. Some place where there were no people, but I didn't want to give them the satisfaction of having the power to drive me away. Well, that, and I didn't want to run this risk of getting lost and having to ask one of these rich bitches in their stupid cupcake dresses for help.

I guess this whole 'club' is some sort of prostitution ring except the boys are giving their time and affection in exchange for money, rather than sex. It should be illegal, if you ask me. It's disgusting and it's really only going to harm both parties involved. The girls are going to grow up believing in the perfection that these boys pretend to be; never falling in love because they are looking for a flawless man that just doesn't exist. The boys will forever be jaded because of how pushy these girls are. They are going to assume that all girls want them for their, admittedly handsome, looks and nothing else.

I shook my head and laughed a little bit, watching their reflections in the window. They don't even understand that they're hurting each other. Humans can be so oblivious to each other that it physically pains me.

I guess my laughter must have been a little louder than I expected it to be, because even over my music, I could hear the resounding mocking and titters. Waiting for it to pass, I stayed silent. But after a solid minute, it didn't so I removed my headphones and growled out, "I'm poor, not blind and dumb. I can hear you, I can see you, and I will kill you."

The girls in the room shrieked, sent me scandalized looks, and clutched at their nearest host, pleading for protection. Some blond-haired dumbass spoke up, roses somehow orbiting his head. Maybe they grew in the dirt that replaced his brain. "Fear not, my fair ladies, she means you no harm."

I arched my eyebrow, flicking my white hair out of my eyes. "Yeah, actually, I do." I looked him dead in the face. "But if you'd like to test my resolution on the matter, I invite you."

Silence followed. All eyes were still on me, but it would be weak to leave now. I turned my music back on and zoned out again, doodling instead of working on homework. I plan on waiting out the storm, and at the rate it's going, I might be here all night. I'll have plenty of time.

I was about twenty minutes into a morbid doll sketch, when I noticed little feet on the ground. I looked up to see a nearly empty room and a little blond boy in one of the school uniforms staring right at me, large eyes boring into mine.

Sighing, I stopped my music for probably the tenth time that day. I tried to keep the irritation out of my voice. "Yes? Can I help you?"

He let a small smile creep onto his face upon being acknowledged and inquired. "What happened to your face?"

I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling self conscious of the bruises anointing my skin. But I grinned and sassed right back "What happened to yours?" Flicking him gently on the nose. Kids are my kryptonite.

I wrinkled his face, reminding me a bit of the bunny clutched tightly in his hands, and was lifted up by another much taller boy with dark hair and tanned skin. "There's nothing wrong with my face!"

I let out a fake gasp, resting a hand on my chest, feigning hurt. "And there's something wrong with mine?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it's all purple and black and yellow and stuff. Right, Tama-chan?"

The guy under him grunted. I glared at him, muttering under my breath. "Thanks for the help, Tama-chan."

Somehow the club members were slowly starting to scoot in my direction, like they thought I was actually okay with it. Like they thought I wouldn't punch them. Like they were fucking entitled. They probably thought they were. The boy who I knew to be an Ootori pushed his glasses up his nose. "It's occurred to me that perhaps the bruising occurred in some sort of commoner skirmish; a fight, as they call it."

I face palmed, accidentally scraping my face with one of my many rings. "No, you dipshit. This us just how peasants show affection. We beat the shit out of each other."

The blond dumbass rubbed his chin in thought. "Hmm…Perhaps another excursion to a commoner town is in order!"

The only one I could even vaguely stand so fair, a 'boy' who was clearly a girl, smacked his arm and grumbled, "Tamaki, you idiot."

I stared at them all for a moment before picking up my things. Okay then, I'm out of here. "Yeah, okay, later rich bastards. Stay stupid."

I walked out the door ignoring the demands for me to come back.

Looks like I'm walking home in the pouring rain. It's a good twenty minute walk and all I'm wearing is a tank top and denim shorts, which are uncomfortable as hell when wet. Awesome.

I quickly exited the school grounds and started walking fast, trying to make it home as soon as possible. But I didn't get more than five feet past the gate before two guys leaning up against a tree approached me, hands in their pockets. They looked vaguely familiar and I racked my brain for a reason I might have known them. "Harley Lenon?" the one on the left asked.

I stared at them for a moment before responding slowly, "Yes?"

I felt the impact before I saw it coming; his fist connected with the already tender skin on my face. Oh. This is how I know them. Still reeling from the impact, I threw my hand out and made contact with the short one's gut, but I took too long to right myself. A hand grabbed my hair, holding my head still, and another hand slammed into my nose. I heard a crack and warm liquid pour over my lips.

I kicked out blindly, grinning when my foot found purchase. Pulling back, I grabbed the back of the tall guy's neck and slammed his head against the brick wall surrounding the school. He fell to the ground with a grunt.

I toppled on top of him after feeling the shorter guy jab his knee into my back. I quickly rolled off him, swiping a leg out, knocking the one still standing off of his feet. His head whacked against the cement and I was on him in seconds, pinning him to the ground, my palm cutting into his oxygen stream. "Why?"

He hacked and gagged. "Why what?"

I snarled and dug my hand in harder. "You know."

I heard footsteps approaching; but I ignored them. I have to know. "Talk."

He sputtered for a moment but caved. "Lafenz wanted us to deliver the message. He doesn't take no for an answer."

By now, the footsteps had stopped and looking up, the little boy from earlier. Fuck; I need to end this quickly and as non-violently as possible. "Yeah? Well then you can tell him to jump up his own ass. I don't take orders from anyone" I snickered to myself. "Besides, I'm much too feminine for the Mafia life." I pulled of him, telling him to stay down until I was gone or I would beat him until be blacked out.

I walked over to the boy and bent down to his height. He didn't look as scared as he ought to but I guess maybe he was in shock from all the blood. I wiped my face off, frowning at how wet my hand came out. I wiped it off on my now-soaking pants. "Can you keep a secret?" I asked, trying to convey the importance.

He tugged on the bottom of my shirt and I fought the urge to flinch at the intimacy of the touch. "Why did th—"

"It doesn't matter. Just keep this a secret, okay? This is a game; an adult game, but it has to stay between the two of us."

He opened his mouth to respond but never got the chance because I heard more people approaching. Panicking, I dashed off, calling over my shoulder "I'm trusting you!"

I really hope I don't have to silence him; manipulating kids isn't really my style.