Author's Note: Hello, everyone, Antique Ashes (or formerly Torture Tricks and Tailcoats, if you prefer) here. I'd like to welcome you back to the story, after quite a long hiatus. I've edited some of the old chapters, but nothing too major. Those will all be up soon, and I've got six new chapters for you that should be up pretty soon as well. Of course I'll still be updating after that, but it may be slower because I'm still in school, and we'll have exams coming up soon. So I'll shut up now, so you can enjoy the story. As always, reviews are loved!

Chapter 1

Cogs, Canes, and Clubs

Fire. There had been so much fire, and blood. Everything flowed together into a scorching painting of seething red and screams. That eventful day was all he could think about, four years later as he sat on a plane flying to Japan. Had the circumstances been different, he would have been excited to see Japan. But now he was too preoccupied with more important matters to so much as glance out of the window. Important matters such as remembering his name. What had they told him his new name was? He had so much to remember that all of the information blended together. Seiko, that was it! His name was Seiko Yukio.

He preferred his old name; he didn't want a new one. He didn't want to belong to someone else. He didn't want to call anyone else "Mother" and "Father" because no one else would be able to live up to those titles, or to replace them. But of course Seiko was far too polite to voice his wishes, and so, upon realizing that some people had situations worse than his, he stopped his complaining.

I should be grateful that I even survived. I have no right to be unhappy, he mentally berated himself. But even so, I still am.

Seiko buckled his seatbelt as the plane prepared to land. He didn't let it show, but he was nervous. What if his new family didn't like him? Then, he thought, I wouldn't be surprised. People had always thought of him as weak, useless, and fragile. Seiko had started to believe that their perception of him was true.

He grabbed his things (which wasn't much; he only brought along a few necessities and items of personal importance) and walked off of the plane, aided by the support of a cane. The top, where his pale hand gripped tightly, was decorated with a bear head. It was made of silver and modeled to look like a child's teddy bear, and it even had a bowtie around its neck. The eyes were made of hauntingly lucid sapphire.

Seiko rubbed the bear head fondly. His parents gave it to him for one of his birthdays when they realized the boy had developed a fascination with the Victorian era. That was when their family was upper middle class, on their way to untold wealth, thanks to his father's prospering medical business. That was before everything crumbled like a picture exposed to flame.

Seiko waited in the airport for his new parents. How were they to find him? He wondered, but not for long. He had forgotten that a picture of him was sent to them, and, after all, how hard would it be to locate a teenage boy with white hair and a cane in an airport?

"Are you Yukio Seiko?" a woman asked him. She looked middle aged, but despite her age she was strong willed, evinced by the sharp but loving glow of determination in her eyes. Her face was more stoic than motherly, but the latter trait shone through faintly when she smiled at him.

Seiko placed his bag down and bowed. "Yes, Madame, I am."

The woman returned the gesture of deference and introduced herself as his mother and the man standing next to her as his father. He was of approximately the same age as the woman, clean-shaven with a rigid posture. He wore a dark blue suit and black tie, and the entirety of his demeanor bespoke of CEO, president, or some other prestigious position of a venerable occupation.

"Well, let's get you to the mansion, then, since you start school tomorrow." The woman said and began walking, leaving her husband to take Seiko's bags.

Seiko's eyes widened, and it was a moment before he regained his bearings and followed behind them. "M-mansion?" Seiko was not informed that his new family was rich. He could tell this life would be a drastic change from his old one. He was used to living life as a middle class commoner, and now he had been flown into Japan and dropped into a wealthy lifestyle?

"Of course!" his "mother"—that would certainly take some getting accustomed to—sounded extremely excited.

"If I may ask, where will I be attending school?" Seiko inquired after he had recovered from his shock of riding in an actual limo. He found it awkward to settle into the unfamiliar vehicle comfortably, and shifted positions often.

"Ouran High School. It's a very prestigious school; I think you'll like it."

Seiko looked out of the window with a worried expression. Be grateful, he reminded himself. But where could he possibly find joy in this lavish society?

Seiko, having just finished dinner with his parents and sisters (Ringo was the younger one, not yet in middle school, and Akira was a junior in high school), began exploring the room he chose. They told him that it was one of the smaller ones, but Seiko didn't mind. It was cozy and had a large bay window with a seat. The bathroom was larger than the size of a normal bedroom (and had a jacuzzi), and the bedroom itself was more spacious than a generously sized living room. There were even two walk-in closets, and one had a window.

Seiko decided to make the closet with the window a library/study, and he figured he would lock away his memories of his old life in there as well. He unpacked a pair of pajamas and the items he would need for school tomorrow, but left the rest of the unpacking and organization for tomorrow.

Not long after, Seiko was already climbing into bed, though it was still early. He was nervous, but also slightly excited to see what surprises tomorrow would bring. Although his body felt terrible, he thanked the jet lag. It was the first night in years that he slept easily and without nightmares.

"Seiko-chan! Okaa-san told me to come wake you up for school!" Seiko heard Ringo shouting and banging on his bedroom door outside.

"Just a minute please, Ringo." he called back in response. He had just gotten out of the shower and did not have a shirt on. He knew it would have been fine to let her in, but Seiko was highly self-conscious of his body. Or, rather, highly self-conscious period.

Seiko put on the rest of the Ouran uniform and opened the door for Ringo, who was standing in pink pajamas with a teddy bear in her hand. "You're already up, Seiko-chan?" she pouted.

Seiko smiled, but it didn't touch his eyes. It no longer would, Seiko knew. In the time that had transpired since . . . the incident, Seiko merely pretended to be happy for the sake of others. He didn't know why he was left alive, but if he could do something—anything—for anyone, then he would do it. Even something as small as making people happy made him feel like he wasn't just taking up space on this already overcrowded planet. "I apologize. I'll let you wake me tomorrow, then?"

Ringo nodded eagerly and skipped out of his room. "Have a good day at school, Seiko-chan!"

Seiko looked himself over in the mirror. His hair was longer than most boys'; it fell around his face in layers like blades of grass and stopped at the back of his neck. His bangs were longer than the rest of his hair and covered his forehead to his chin (even his eye) on the right side. His visible eye was a stormy blue color, with flecks of gray. The uniform gave a bit of color to his pallid skin, but not much, and his cheeks were slightly flushed from the heat of the shower.

"Seiko, the limo is waiting for you." Akira said from his doorway.

He thanked her and grabbed his cane. She noticed his shaking fingers.

"Just call me if you need me to beat up someone for you, little brother. Ja." she held up her hand in a wave and disappeared down the hall.

Maybe these rich people aren't so bad. Seiko thought to himself as he slid into the limo.

Seiko looked up at Ouran in a mixture of horror and amazement. How would he ever find his way around in there?

"Are you lost?" a boy tapped him on the shoulder. He was rather short, only barely reaching Seiko's shoulders (and Seiko was pretty short). He was thin like Seiko, and his brown hair and wide chocolate eyes made him look the epitome of innocence. To himself, Seiko chuckled. He was innocent once, but he had been tainted by the world, and it was only a matter of time before this boy was as well. Enjoy it while it lasts, his bitter voice advised.

"Oh," Seiko laughed nervously (again fake), "was I that obvious? I am a new student here."

The boy smiled. "I can show you around if you like. I'm Haruhi by the way."

Seiko offered him a sweeping, European version of a bow, still somehow managing to do it gracefully even with a cane in his hand. He had grown used to living with his . . . condition, and rarely found it inconveniencing. "Thank you. Ah—forgive me for not introducing myself. I am Yukio Seiko."

The boy giggled—wait, giggled?—and led the way.

"Haruhi," Seiko began, "I do not mean to intrude on your privacy, but may I ask a question?"

"Sure, I don't mind."

"Are you a girl?"

Haruhi paused momentarily in her surprise. She laughed rather loudly, and said, after she recovered, "Yeah, I am. Please don't tell anyone though."

"Of course. It isn't my secret to tell, after all." Haruhi stopped walking. Seiko figured this was where he needed to go to get his schedule. "Thank you for helping me," he smiled and bid her goodbye.

Seiko knew it was coming as soon as he walked into his first period classroom. Those dreaded words.

"Class, we have a new student." the teacher sounded extremely bored. "Please introduce yourself to the class."

There they were, those words. Seiko stepped to the front of the room with his hands clasped politely over his cane. He looked upon the class, and his heart clenched in disdain. Such carefree innocence. How can I not envy it, and hate them for it? "I am Yukio Seiko. I'm honored to make your acquaintance." he smiled and titled his head innocently to the side, allowing his hair to fall over his face. The action elicited squeals from a few girls.

He took a seat in the back of the classroom next to the window, and could not help but overhear two guys in front of him whispering angrily.

"Who the hell does that guy think he is?" one of them demanded.

"That player's trying to steal our game!" the other pounded his fist on the table.

Seiko tried to ignore them and listen to the instructor. Easier said than done; it was hard to tune out their vulgar comments. This was going to be a long day...

"Stop!" Seiko was in the hallway on his way to lunch when he heard a girl shout angrily. She was fighting off a boy trying to kiss her, but she was miserably failing. He had her pinned against a wall, and was shoving his body onto her.

Seiko ran over to the girl, ignoring the danger it posed to his health. "Is there a problem here?" Normally, Seiko's voice remained mild and calm, but now there was a dark undertone to it.

"And if there was?" the guy turned his attention to Seiko but did not release his victim.

Seiko pushed him aside and stood protectively in front of the girl. "Obviously this beautiful young lady is above your perverse advances, so I request on her behalf that you leave her alone."

"You brat!" the boy punched Seiko in the face.

Seiko stumbled, but remained on his feet. He could feel blood dripping from his mouth, but he paid it no mind. Seiko held his cane horizontally and shoved the end of it into the boy's stomach with enough force to send him tumbling onto his backside.

"Please leave. Now." Seiko faced the girl behind him, watching the boy sulk off into the hallways out of the corner of his eye.

"Thank you so much, Yukio-san!" the girl exclaimed.

Seiko leaned heavily on his cane, breathing shallow. He retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped away the blood, waving away the girl's concern for his health when she asked. "There is no need to thank me. I simply could not stand by and watch as you were harassed. And please, I would greatly prefer it if you called me Seiko."

She looked up at him, blushing. "Um, Seiko-san, would you maybe want to eat lunch with my friends and I? If you don't have anyone else to eat with already, that is. I just thought that since you were new and we're in the same class and all—"

"I would love to, Yuna-san. I thank you for your kind offer." Seiko walked with Yuna to the dining hall, trying to hide his surprise at how big it was.

"This is Mika," Yuna motioned to a brunette girl as they sat down, "and this is Kerushii." she pointed to a girl with red hair. "Mika, Kerushii, this is Seiko. Today's his first day at Ouran."

Seiko greeted them all kindly.

"How do you like Ouran so far?" Mika inquired.

"If all of the students are anything like you girls, then I believe I like it quite well. You are all very kind."

The three girls giggled and blushed. "Have you heard of the Host Club?" Kerushii asked somewhat shyly, looking down into her plate.

Seiko shook his head. They explained the gist of it to him.

"You should join! We would request you if you were a host."

Seiko told them that he would consider it.

As Seiko progressed throughout the day, he soon noticed that the girls at Ouran squealed. A lot.

"Mommy!" Tamaki shouted out of the blue as he and Kyoya made their way to Music Room 3.

"What now, Tamaki?" Tamaki's random outbursts had been going on for a while now, and Kyoya was beginning to get tired of them.

"The Host Club feels like it's missing something." Tamaki said in one of his rare serious moments.

Kyoya was drawn into the conversation now. "What could the club possibly be missing? We have the best of everything, and the girls are happy."

Tamaki stayed silent for a moment, thinking. At length, he said, "We need another host."

As they entered the club room, Tamaki hushed Kyoya before he could respond. "Do you hear that?" he whispered.

Kyoya did. There was a boy at the window playing the violin. The song was beautiful, but extremely sad. He hadn't felt this moved since he first heard Tamaki play the piano. They listened in silence to the boy's song. His body trembled with the emotion of his performance, and with each note he dragged across the instrument, he seemed to drag feelings from his heart, and from the hearts of his impromptu audience.

When he stopped, Tamaki clapped loudly. The boy jumped, apparently unaware of their presence until now, so absorbed in his music was he.

"My apologies. I did not know this room was in use." Kyoya wondered where this boy was from. He had an accent, but it was not prominent enough for Kyoya to tell what country he was from. And then there was his strange white hair, and his overly-formal, almost archaic manner of speaking.

"It isn't a bother," Tamaki waved it off, "hosting hours haven't started yet."

The boy bowed. Not a traditional bow, Kyoya noted, but a distinctly European style one. "I am sorry that you had to hear my terrible caterwauling." he said sheepishly, a light brush of pink dusting his alabaster cheeks.

"No, that sounded wonderful! Oh, I'm Tamaki Suoh by the way." Tamaki introduced himself, less dramatically than normal since he was not hosting.

"Kyoya Ootori. Pleased to meet you." Kyoya spoke up for the first time since they had entered the room. He would have to do some research on this boy. He was curious, most curious.

The boy put his violin away in the case, which had white, black, and gray clock faces and cogs hand painted onto it. "A pleasure to meet you both then. I am Seiko Yukio." Seiko grabbed his cane that had been leaning against the wall.

"Oh, are you that new student?"

Seiko nodded in response to Tamaki's question.

"You should stay for the Host Club, then!" Kyoya gave Tamaki a strange look. It looked like Kyoya wasn't the only one interested in the boy. What are you planning, Tamaki?

Seiko really just wanted to go home, but since he didn't want to be impolite, he accepted Tamaki's offer.

"Wonderful! You can stick with moi, mon ami!" Tamaki twirled around happily.

Seiko laughed unknowingly. He had not done it to please Tamaki. He had just . . . laughed, and for himself. He had heard nothing but Japanese since he got on the plane, and it was a nice change hearing French. "Tu parles français?" Seiko asked fluently.

Tamaki froze mid-spin and landed on his face. He squealed in happiness. "I didn't know you spoke French too, Seiko!"

Seiko nodded. "Tu es très fascinant." he said, and it was true. If Tamaki could make him laugh, then it was definitely true. Fascinating indeed.

"Tamaki, it's time for the club to open. Please refrain from squealing and twirling about like the child you are."

Tamaki and the other hosts, who had managed to enter without Seiko taking notice, chorused, "Welcome Princess!" as the doors of the music room opened.

The girls all went off with their hosts, and Tamaki dragged Seiko along with him. Tamaki pointed out to him which host was who, and Seiko recognized Haruhi among them.

"My darlings, this is Seiko Yukio. He's the new student at Ouran. Let's make him feel welcome, shall we?"

By the end of club hours, Seiko did feel welcomed, but he also felt extremely creeped out. All the guys did was talk empty words to these girls? Seiko had no interest in such things, and frankly he wondered why the girls did. If nothing else, Seiko prided himself in his blunt honesty. He always tried his best to be polite, but he was not timid about speaking his mind. He preferred to not deal with people at all, as it usually ended with either them or him being hurt. He and his real father had learned the hard way that people were not to be trusted or relied upon.

"So Seiko, what do you think of the Host Club?" Tamaki asked as soon as the last customer had left.

"Thank you for the insightful experience, Tamaki-senpai, but I do not hold the Host Club highly in my regards. What is the point? Humans are creatures that grow easily attached, and what you are doing will only hurt them in the end." Seiko did feel bad for saying that to the energetic blonde, who he had bonded well with just before, but what did it matter? It would prevent a friendship from ever forming, protect them both from running the risk of ever getting hurt.

Tamaki turned a pale color and fell to the ground.

Seiko kneeled beside Tamaki and poked him. Now he felt even worse. "Was I too harsh?"

"While Tamaki is prone to overreacting," Hikaru said, placing a hand on Seiko's shoulder.

"That was kind of cold." Kaoru repeated the same gesture as his brother, placed a hand on Seiko's other shoulder.

"The goal of the Host Club is to make every girl happy! We say these things to make them feel good! When they're having a bad day, they come here for us to whisk away their troubles!" Tamaki, regaining his composure quite quickly, shouted adamantly. He was passionate about his lies, Seiko would give him that.

"Seiko, although these guys are big goofballs, they don't mean any harm by their actions, and they're really trying to help." Haruhi smiled at him. "They aren't bad once you get to know them."

Seiko studied Haruhi. She seemed sincere enough, and, based on Seiko's interactions with the club members, she and Kyoya seemed to be the only sane ones. "I'll have to take your word for it, Haruhi. If you choose to spend your time dressing as a boy and charming girls, then who am I to judge?"

Five pairs of eyes turned to Seiko in shock.

"He knows?"

Seiko raised an eyebrow at the group. "It is not that inconspicuous. You have no need to worry about me disclosing this information, however."

"I'm sorry, Seiko-san, but we'll need a secret of yours as insurance. Kyoya?" Tamaki looked over Kyoya's shoulder at his laptop screen.

Everyone watched Seiko's face for a hint of worry or fear. They found none. Seiko was confident that they would find little to no information on "Seiko Yukio." As long as they did not find out his real name, then he was safe. And he was the only person alive who knew it.

"What's wrong, Kyoya-senpai?" The twins asked as they too leaned over his shoulder.

"I cannot find anything at all on him. It's as if he doesn't exist." Kyoya was trying to keep the frustration out of his voice, but Seiko noticed it.

Seiko smirked. "I don't."