Haruhi was unhappily pensive, as she sat in the quiet of her home over a steaming cup of Midori tea. She knew that such wasn't her nature, but today, she couldn't help it. Today at the Host Club was particularly nasty, and as much as she truly cared for her friends…sometimes, she wondered if they knew any boundaries? Probably not, of course, but was it really too much to ask for some simple respect?

Haruhi knew they were merely toying with her, teasing and hugging and annoying and threatening--

It irritated her.

She realized that her reaction, whether it be protest or the approval some claim to be looking for, was what they craved. She knew that her obstinate nature was somehow amusing to them, and they made it a constant game. She tolerated it normally, accepting it as their "quirky" nature, but today was just way too much, and it caused her to nearly walk out on them right then and there.

Maybe it had something to do with Hikaru and Kaoru pestering her throughout the entirety of the day, constantly laughing at her and poking fun with a particularly mischievous (malicious?) tone. Perhaps it had been Kyouya's amused smirk at her ever-increasing debt as she was framed for the breaking of a Ginori teacup. It could have even been Tamaki, who finally drove her to crack and seethe; he had decided to go on another commoner rant, somehow managing to touch up on their "Father-daughter relationship" and all the subsequent sensitive sore spots. The seniors merely watch with a sort of detached interest; they did not take part in either side, as they were not involved and it wasn't their issue. No, it certainly did not pertain to them…

Haruhi was reflecting upon her homework (lingering over a bad day was not something she'd do) and was making absolutely sure there were no errors; after checking, and double checking, she sighed and closed her books. Her father called and was coming home sooner than expected, and she had already taken care of dinner, laundry, dishes…chores were done.

…Which, unfortunately, gave Haruhi time to brood. The persistence with which the topic of the members of the Host Club was invading her mind reminded her strongly of their nature. Incessant and obtrusive.

Hikaru and Kaoru. They were constantly with her, attached to her like…like constant tumors, or another sort of abnormal growth on her body. Harsh an analogy? Yes. But today, Haruhi felt particularly bitter; they had upped their game another notch, despite protest, and had continually pestered her despite real-and-true requests to stop.

Haruhi saw that Kaoru hesitated after he understood she was well and truly upset, but eventually his brother had won out. Hikaru, it seemed, was unaware of the negative mood he had inflicted upon his "toy".

Haruhi pondered over this for a moment: Hikaru…truly didn't understand, and Kaoru was only trying to please his brother. She knew this and yet…

…Maybe she was a little harsh on them. She still remembered the sudden apathy that gripped her at that moment, as she decided to completely go dead to the twins, sitting limp and not struggling, not reacting, telling them in a blank tone that she simply did not care anymore. She still remembered the look on their face even now as she sat here, alone in her quiet home, calmly finishing up the last of her Midori tea.

Tamaki and Kyouya. Both were constantly on her case, one physically and the other mentally. Between them, Haruhi felt constantly overwhelmed; Tamaki's overbearing and slightly-less-than-obnoxious fascination constantly assaulted her, manifesting itself in hugs and too-loud screeches and ridiculously long monologues. Then after tiring herself out, Kyouya would step in and rub salt in the wound, informing her of whatever recent, and most likely unfair, debt was added. All with that stupid smug smile of his.

Haruhi saw that Tamaki was most likely just very oblivious of whatever distress he put her into, and that his outlandish and inappropriate ideas were simply spawned of blissful ignorance. How could she blame that? Then, Kyouya. He didn't really have an excuse, nor did he need one, but Haruhi knew, oh yes she knew, that their vice president was doing his very best to keep her as a member in the club-- why, she didn't quite know (perhaps for profit), but it was something that oddly made her feel appreciated, in a sense. Perhaps her reaction today wasn't quite fair, but that damnable smug smile and the ever cool tone of his voice had done nothing but exacerbate her aggravation at the time.

…Either way, the manner in which she had told them none too politely to go bother someone else was something she was now regretting. An uncharacteristic ice had crept up into her voice, and she was betting that her face and demeanor was no softer. She remembered Tamaki's sad quiet, and the disconcerted scribble of Kyouya writing into his notebook following her glacial dismissal of them. She remembered the bitten-back apology she had then, and regretted not voicing it. Gathering the teacup and napkins, she stood to clear it all away.

Honey and Mori. The upperclassmen seemed to be so detached from her and the sources of the day's frustration. They seemed to care, at first, and she was sure they did…but they hadn't stepped in, they hadn't done anything to help her out-- and who was she, to expect them to? It was selfish of her to expect it.

Yes, she was probably only feeling bitter at the time, as she had seen Honey's attempt to smile for her, and she had seen Mori's dark, sympathetic gaze. In fact, she should probably have thanked them; they were the only ones not bothering her, and had even gone so far as to try to comfort her in their own silent way.

…Haruhi was definitely glad that she had not done anything to the seniors as she had the others. She remembered sending them a melancholic smile on her way out, and as she stood over the dishes in her kitchen, she felt another one tug at the corners of her lips.

Tomorrow, she would apologize. Tomorrow, she would talk. For each member was too precious to her to loose over a petty fight, and most importantly, they were her friends.

Her resentment faded.