This story is going to be epic, I can promise you that. This chapter looks to be a bit shorter than I'd expected, and the rest of them are likely to be much longer. I plan on updating a couple times a week. I'd like to say every day, but that'd be a ridiculously ambitious goal. Oh, more on what I meant about "somewhat interactive" at the end.

And of course, Bisco Hatori is the supreme creator of all things Host Club. I'm just borrowing her characters... I'll return them a little angsty and sweaty, but for the most part unharmed. (;

Eyes closed, I let my other senses fully take in the night. I toed at the grass, letting my bare feet sink into the clovers, the ground moist from a recent squall. The wind pleasantly whipped my hair around my face, making me feel more tranquil and actually more free than I had in ages…but also more alone. After years and years of togetherness, it's hard to acclimatize to the solitude, even if only for a moment. I entangled my hands in the metal links of the swing—the one, solitary swing that's hidden away in the corners of the mansion's garden. Its cold metal links proved a sharp contrast against my hot flesh. My skin has become frequently warm as of late, and I'm sure it's due to lying next to him; even though I had for so many nights, for so many years. I thought I'd be able to handle it, but the frustration and agony keep building. The ache is swelling, and beginning to take over my very being.

I don't know when exactly I feel in love with Hikaru, and lord knows I don't know why. I didn't wish this upon myself. Even when we agreed to Tamaki's insane "Brotherly Love" pitch, we did it knowing full well that it was for a reaction out of the ladies, that it was a joke. To even ask him to consider that it was real would be a joke. It would be unthinkable, unreasonable… illegal. The stakes are way too high—not only could I be rejected, but Hikaru would be disgusted with me, our bond would be shattered. He'd probably even move into his own bedroom, something that our parents have been hinting at for years. Not to mention the act at the Host Club would cease and I live for those moments. It may be an act to Hikaru, every touch, every word carefully prepared, a lie—but to me; they're real... or as close to real as they'll ever be. In those moments, I can feel his eyes on me, dancing with laughter instead of passion. His touches and caresses are caring, yes, but calculated and rehearsed. Even so, they make my heart skip a beat, my face flush. I can't help but desire more, more of whatever he's willing to give. Maybe… Well, he and I have always felt the same way about everything, could it be possible that—No!

I shook my head against the wind, squashing hope and letting the breeze sweep my hair out of my eyes. Here I was again, getting carried away in my thoughts. Hadn't I already decided to leave him out of this? Even though Hikaru is the cause of all my internal turmoil, there is no point in letting him know. I don't want him to have it weighing on his mind. I won't tell him how much it hurts me when he looks at Haruhi the way that he does. I know there's no point in getting worked up; it's obvious how Haruhi feels about the king (even if neither Tamaki nor Hikaru have realized it). Still, I support him. He's my brother, my other half, my reason for living. He could decide to sport a Mohawk or start his own line of velvet bellbottoms, and I would still support him.

Sighing, I stood back on my feet, and began to make my way through the maze of the gardens. I spend way too much time out here thinking, a product of my insomnia. I like the swing and vines crawling around it, the way it's concealed from anyone around by the oversized bushes. While the rest of the gardens are manicured and rigged with fountains and lights, that corner is wild and lush, unkempt for no visible reason. And the swing—the singular swing. I'm not actually sure why there's not another one. I could be wrong, but aren't all swing sets sold in…well, sets? Perhaps it was a commoners' deal, but why our family would purchase anything marked down is beyond me. Maybe that's why I like it, though: Swings are always seen in sets, just as I'm always seen in a pair. But I never come to the corner of the garden with Hikaru. Even I need something that I can call mine, and only mine.

I trudged up to the back door, not bothering to take in the splendorous wood paneling, concerned only with being quiet so as to not alert the help. It would be difficult to explain what I was doing in out in the back gardens in the dead of the night, all alone. They'd probably alert mother and father, who would invest in a night crew, no doubt.

But why bother sneaking around? Everyone's probably in bed, anyway.

Taking a look at the lateness of the hour, I didn't bother to stifle a yawn. What reasons would the maids have for wandering around at three in the morning? If anything, they would be the ones who need to sneak around. They have even less reason than I to be out and about at this hour.

*CRASHBANG!!*

My head whips up, momentarily giving me whiplash. I rubbed at my neck as I changed direction and scrambled towards the kitchen. Never mind the lateness of the hour, if someone was hurt—

Skirting around the corner, my breath caught as I toppled headfirst into the last person I wanted to see there; Hikaru.

Congratulations to those of you who saw the word "squall" in the first paragraph and immediately thought of "Jungle Pool SOS!". I took the liberty of actually looking up the word after that (of course), and got the following result:

squall (skwôl) n.
A brief sudden violent windstorm, often accompanied by rain or snow.

As always, ladies, I write for your pleasure. But it wouldn't hurt to give me a little feedback. What you thought, what you liked, what you want more of or even things you want to happen. If you voice them, I can write them. Obviously, I won't let my reviewers control the story, but if any small suggestion fits in with what I have planned, I wouldn't be opposed to writing in what you want to read. Naturally, credit will be received at the end of the chapter, if I end up taking you up on your idea.

Here's my first question for you: Do you want the next chapter in KAORU POV again, or HIKARU POV?

Cheers.

—Ora