I know, I know, I've already done an OC for Ouran, but I don't care! Whoo!

This is a trial run for this brand new story, for all of you who read Ouran Infiltrated/Ouran Stolen and liked them. If you don't know what either of those are, go check them out on my profile.

Anyway, enjoy!

Let's get one thing straight: I am not a magician. That's a term for old men in fantasy storybooks that live alone in towers and Harry Houdini. As it so happens, I am not an old man in a tower nor am I Harry Houdini. I am a fifteen year old high school first year student named Mizuki Kokoro Aihana.

I am an illusionist.

This may sound kind of egocentric, but I've always found myself rather pretty. Here's why it's not egocentric: everyone else thinks so, too. Silver hair, not dyed, thank you very much, one brown eye and one green one, not contacts, thank you very much, slender nose, full pink lips, extra delicate jaw, all real, thank you very much.

Because I'm so pretty, in elementary and middle school, I was popular, or was at least forced to be. Girls would invite me to sleepovers and birthday parties and consider me part of their little cliques. I'm rich, too, and smart, which makes me automatically the perfect candidate for popularity. Boys would leave letters in my locker almost daily, fawn over me. It got to an almost embarrassing point.

But all I wanted to do was be normal, so I went to a commoners' middle school, but nobody treated me correctly, as if I was some kind of princess. It was pretty weird. So I enrolled in a more suitable school, Lobelia or something like that.

That is, until I met him.

He's like every boy that tried to impress me rolled into one, stuffed full of overbearing happiness, and a whole lot hotter. But here's the weird thing: I don't really mind him all that much.

I walk down the street, reading off a paper I'd printed out, a long list of school supplies. My brother typed it out for me, so I'm getting his while I'm out, too. The streets are crowded, that much is obvious by the sound around me.

"Ah!" I exclaim, falling back to land in a puddle, soiling my jeans and shirt. I am stunned for a moment, before I wince, wipe my hands off on my shirt, squeeze the water from my clothing, and look to see who it is I hit.

"Sorry," I say, still sitting in the puddle.

"Are you alright, pretty girl?" He says, offering me his hand. I take it, gasping when he pulls me close. "I'm very sorry. I didn't see you. Please, forgive me."

"Um, yeah. Okay," I say, wiggling out of his hold and putting some distance between us. "What are you, a pervert of some kind?"

"A pervert!" He gasps. "I am no such thing! I only wanted your forgiveness!"

"You're a pervert, senpai," A girl notes monotonously, appearing behind him and shoving him out of the way. "I'm Haruhi Fujioka, and that's my senpai, Tamaki. I'm sorry about him, but hes... an overachiever."

"Mizuki Aihana," I introduce. I take in her clothing, her wide eyes, her small frame. "I've never talked to a commoner outside of school before. I think you guys are really cool, having to live like you're camping every day!"

"I agree!" Tamaki reappears. "Commoners are the most fascinating people! Say..." He leans closer, his eyes wide and deep purple. "Aren't you a commoner?"

"Well, I went to a commoners' middle school but technically no. My family runs the Aihana Corporation, specializing in sweets and things like that."

"If you're not a commoner... what school are you going to?" He asks.

"I'm enrolling in a highschool, um, Lobelia or something like that," I say, glancing at my paper. "Yeah, Lobelia Girls' Academy."

"Lobelia?" Tamaki gasps. "Don't tell me you're with them?"

"With who?" This guy is weirder and weirder, but he's entertaining.

"The Zuka Club! Surely you've heard of them? You know, big costumes and singing and dancing. They tried to steal my precious Haruhi!" Tamaki squeals, hugging Haruhi and swinging her around in the middle of the street, much to her discomfort.

"Nope, never heard of them," I shrug. "I'm pretty much new in town. I moved here to my family's second estate from Karuizawa, but it gets kinda boring after a while."

"I know!" Tamaki shouts, releasing Haruhi and bounding back over to me. "You should enroll in Ouran and stay away from those mean Lobelia girls!"

"I don't really care where I go," I say. "As long as it's not one of those crazy commoners' schools. No offense, of course, Fujioka."

"None taken," she smiles.

That said, we part ways.

I know I shouldn't take what random crazy perverts say on the street to heart, but I do. Maybe, if everyone at this Ouran school is as crazy as them and me, I may actually like the school. It would be nice to enjoy my time at school, to have real friends that don't want to exploit you for your good looks and money.

I shake my head, smiling at my own stupidity. That's crazy.

Or maybe not.

I turn back to look over my shoulder, only to see through the crowd Tamaki Souh looking back over his. We meet eyes for a moment, violet clashing with green and brown, then he raises his hand and waves to me. I return it gratefully, then spin around and walk back into the shopping district.

This could very well be the worst decision of my life, and therefore could also be the best.