Ouran Highschool Host Cats

I just realised this, after re-watching Alice in Borderland for like the 723828372 time.

"I wonder if there's a doctor here" Then the camera pans to Chishiya, with a freaking close up.

Yeah. There was a doctor there actually. I feel so stupid not noticing this earlier 😔

”You’re such a useless brother!”

a/n: Brothers au!!

Tatta Kodai sat stiffly on the faux leather couch in Nam-Gyu’s office, his hands folded tightly in his lap, his baseball cap now resting beside him like it didn’t belong in the room either. He’d come to the club to watch Thanos perform, maybe grab some overpriced drinks and soak in the neon vibes. Instead, he was being emotionally bludgeoned by a half-brother he never knew he had.

Across from him, Nam-Gyu leaned in his chair, legs kicked up on the cluttered desk, a blunt dangling from his lips, letting out slow clouds of smoke like he was exhaling memories.

“You ever been punched in the face, sushi boy?” he asked suddenly.

Tatta blinked. “What?”

“I said,” Nam-Gyu flicked ash into a ramen cup, “has someone ever hit you so hard you forgot your name for a minute?”

Tatta shook his head, eyes wide. “N-No. I mean, not—like—seriously.”

Nam-Gyu scoffed. “Figures.”

He stood up, pacing in a slow, loose circle. His all-black outfit hung off him like smoke, long hair tied back sloppily, eyes red-rimmed and hungry for confrontation.

“You’re too soft,” he said.

“I didn’t come here to fight.”

“Of course not. You came here with your anime morals and Pokémon heart to talk.” He mimicked a high voice, “‘Let’s connect as brothers, Nam-Gyu!’” He laughed harshly, then stopped. “You think that matters? Blood?”

“I think it could,” Tatta said softly.

Nam-Gyu spun around. “You had a father. I had Sang-Woo.”

Tatta swallowed. “I didn’t ask for that—”

“You didn’t have to! You got picked like a favorite dish off the menu, and I got left with the broken waitress and the bill.”

Tatta winced.

Nam-Gyu ran a hand through his greasy hair, frustration leaking out of him in waves. “You don’t get it. You never will.When Mom died, I was fifteen. Fif-teen. I buried her. Alone. And guess what happened next?”

Tatta didn’t respond.

“I got a one-way ticket to Uncle Sang-Woo’s House of Broken Ribs. Every day after school was another reminder I wasn’t wanted. You think I care about some family reunion just ‘cause we share DNA?”

Tatta looked down. “I didn’t come to take anything from you.”

Nam-Gyu scoffed again, turning to pour himself a glass of whiskey. He paused for a beat, then said, “You ever had someone tell you they loved you, then slap the love out of your mouth two seconds later?”

Tatta’s lips parted, unsure.

Nam-Gyu downed the glass. “Didn’t think so.”

The silence was heavy. Tatta looked like he wanted to apologize again, but he knew that would make things worse.

Nam-Gyu lit another blunt.

“You don’t have to stay,” he muttered.

“I want to.”

Nam-Gyu glanced at him. “Why?”

“You’re my brother.”

Nam-Gyu scoffed one more time, but this one was quieter. Less venom. His shoulders sagged a little.

“You’re lucky you didn’t meet Sang-Woo,” he said. “Guy used to beat me with extension cords for looking tired.”

“I’m sorry.”

Nam-Gyu looked away.

Tatta stood, carefully picking up his hat. “I don’t want to replace anything. Or fix anything. I just want to know you.”

Nam-Gyu didn’t respond. He was staring at the wall now. At a crooked photo of Club Pentagon’s first night open. Se-Mi was in the corner of the frame, sticking her tongue out and flipping the bird. He hadn’t even noticed her then. Now she was a permanent fixture—fiery, stubborn, kissed like a war and fought like a poem. They both said they hated each other, but somehow still kept ending up in the bathroom at closing time, shirts half-off and hearts full of static.

He didn’t want Tatta to know about her. Or about how badly he needed her after every argument. Tatta didn’t need to know what desperation looked like when it wore black eyeliner and fishnets.

“Fine,” Nam-Gyu muttered finally. “You can stick around. But don’t expect any warm hugs or shared childhood stories. You’re not family. Not really.”

Tatta nodded slowly, adjusting his hat.

“Okay.”

Nam-Gyu didn’t say anything as Tatta slipped out the door.

But when it clicked shut behind him, he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. His reflection in the office mirror stared back at him: tired, angry, lonely.

And maybe—just maybe—a little less alone than before.

“you dont wanna see me mad” ahh 🤣🤣🫵

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