Title: Strings (of a spider's web)
Chapter: 1/?
Author: The black gryphon/Zaheela
Overall Rating: PG-13
Chapter rating: PG
Status: Unbeta'd
Pairings: Mori/Haruhi, Kyouya/Haruhi
Disclaimer: Ouran host club Bisco Hatori. Thus saying, i am not her. Bottom line, Not mine... Much to my dismay...

One thing was crystal clear in the mind of Ootori Yoshio; Not a single member of his family could stomach Kyouya's wife, not even the man who set up the arranged marriage. She, Mayura, was a spiteful, wasteful, dimwitted, and completely spoiled young lady, if she could even be considered that. She may have been lovely, with her artificially enhanced lips and black hair (possibly the only untouched part of her body), but she was no more appealing then a cockroach once her mask slipped away as soon as the ring had been slipped onto her finger. Kyouya, after spending the required first night (which he had later on stated that she was neither pure or as kind as the bride's father had stated), had her shipped off to a mansion as far away from him as it was deemed polite and stated she was never to be allowed on the Ootori mansion's premises without proper warning. Yoshio applauded his heir's foresight, for the woman was much like viper in a nest of eagles; While dangerous, even she, the daft little thing, knew the dangers of angering such a powerful family. Getting rid of her at this point was of minor damage, the alliance with the woman's family had given them more then ample time to obtain the majority of the stocks and she could be cast out with nary a second thought. What troubled Yoshio was the fact that this could leave a window for some other foolish family to try to wed their daughters off his heir. It was all so troubling, and Yoshio growled softly to himself, for all this thinking was giving him a headache.

Yoshio was not a stupid man nor was he as distant to his sons as they had thought. While he may of not known the nature of the activities of the Host club, he knew that his young heir had at least unrealized fancies for one Fujioka Haruhi during high school. He also knew that those feelings had grown to a near obsession with the one woman who was able to read Ootori Kyouya (as well as the other members of the Host club). Yoshio had a feeling that somewhere those feelings had been returned by the woman in question. Ironically, the two in question were blind to the feelings for the most part, until something out of the ordinary had occurred to reveal the feelings. The aftermath was unclear, since he could not ask the young woman and his son refused to reveal the results, but he had an idea.

"Kyouya, this was one failure you could of avoided." Yoshio glanced at the folded up newspaper which the contents of minor interest except for one single article, hidden away on page three. To the everyday man, it was something of no importance their every day lives, but to Yoshio it was a sign that his plans were not at all stopped. It proved the fact that Fujioka Haruhi was still alive, well, and tearing her way into the fabric of society.

His thoughts concerning the woman could only be considered positive. Fujioka Haruhi was a very intelligent, practical, independent woman with a quick wit and a quicker tongue. Even if she lacked the breeding of the higher class, Haruhi certainly was an example of what successful business women were made from. Breeding could not be everything, as Mayura demonstrated, but what stopped Yoshio from approaching the ideal wife for his son was the fact that she was unapproachable. Something at the very end of her college education had sent Fujioka Haruhi into hiding, and while his private police may have been able to keep track of the woman and dig up her reasonings in most cases, she had obtained sanctuary from one of the few places he could not penetrate, the Morinozuka family. It was virtually impossible to send in a spy into a household bred to defend, a family that had helped teach his own private guard. A well played move, but Yoshio was not one to be defeated so easily. He was much like his heir, except he had no plans on letting the girl go so easily. After all, she was a lawyer, and as such, there would be many opportunities to approach her. Yoshio would of gloated if not for the high whine of a very annoyed woman instantly decimating any feelings of smug determination.

How DID his son handle this incorrigible, intolerable, and forth most ANNOYING woman? It made him sorry for even considering such a match in the first place.

"Oh well, at least if everything goes to plan, I will not have to deal wish such acts of childish stupidity." Yoshio murmured as his assistant announced the arrival of a Lady Mayura.

Haruhi frowned as she stared at the words written on the print out, her pen tapping against the smooth finish of her oak desk. Part of her questioned what brought her client to even approach the man in which the lawsuit was aimed against, another sympathized with her client, and the rest was screaming in alarm. It seemed that once you gave birth to a child, a woman gained that mystical seventh sense that mystified men.

"Hatori-chan, please stop trying to climb up my book case. Mori-san, could you PLEASE stop hiding behind the door and assist him in doing whatever he is attempting to do?" All of this said without a bat of an eye. The shuffling of a door and the soft footsteps signaled the entrance of the master of the Morinozuka family and a small grunt from the the young boy. The paperwork was STILL baffling her, and now that Haruhi was no longer alone, she felt the urge to rip out her hair grow stronger until a pair of small arms of a three year old wrapped around her neck.

"Mama, I'm hungry." She gave up, until later that evening at least, in favor of pay attention to her son. She turned in her chair to wrap her arms around her son, hands brushing over Mori's own before his moved away to allow Haruhi to reclaim her son.

"What would you like?" Haruhi shifted his weight as Hatori pouted and but his lip as if it was the hardest question in the world. She couldn't help but smile when his bright chocolate eyes glimmered as he came to a conclusion.

"Sukiyaki!" Laughter bubbled up and she moved to walk out the door before pausing and looking back at the man she could consider her protector.

"Would you and Hunny-san like to join us?" Haruhi wondered why she even asked, but she supposed it was only fitting.

"We would be honored." Hatori cheered as he clung to both his mother and the book he had rescued from her bookcase (truthfully, it was digging into her side) and continued down the hallways of her home. Mori had left in order to retrieve the master-in-training of the Haninozuka family, and with practiced motions, she slipped into her favorite apron. Her son clung to her pants, watching her in apt fascination as she began to prepare the vegetables. She watched her son out of the corner of her eye as he grew tired of watching her and opened up the picture book, silently mouthing the words as he lay on the floor of the kitchen. No matter how many times she told him not to, Haruhi could not convince her son to stop laying on the floor of her kitchen, so she had grown used to avoiding stepping on him.

"I suppose this is what your grandmother felt when I did the same." She muttered softly but her son heard it anyways. He had heard the story so many times and simply laughed. Her eyes softened at the sound of the laughter and she returned to her task. As she chopped the various vegetables, her mind wandered towards her future. Would Hatori ever learn the truth? It was inevitable, he was a smart boy, smarter then he honestly should have been actually. Though not a super genius, he was still able at the age of three to read and do the most basic math equations, far more advanced then most children. She could of blamed breeding, but that was a poor excuse. She left it as 'fate' and 'evolution' and did not ponder upon it much. She didn't wish to think about it much, because when she did, it always brought back memories. Memories of a night which should of never of happened, between the most unlikely of people. While the results may of given her one of the most important things in her life, it also brought the bitter taste which accompanied betrayal.

"Mama! Don't cry!" The sweet voice of her son snapped her out of her thoughts and she let the smile crawl back onto her face before placing the knife down and kneeling down so that her son, with his chubby hands, could rub a tear away.

"I'm not crying see? It was those nasty onions!" Haruhi proclaimed and wiped away any other tears that could remain with the back of her sleeve. Hatori adopted the pout for a moment, and then agreed with the cherished innocence of childhood (or at least she hoped). Ruffling his black hair, she could not help but wonder that when Kyouya was this young, if he was the same. If he had been, she once again resolved to never let her own son become like his father, a jaded man who did not realize his own feelings.

A man who left behind broken hearts, as she found out first hand.