Hello! This is my first Ouran fanfic, so please be nice! I'm kinda an addict to roses, so I soooo totally had to incorporate roses! They're so cute and smelly-sweet and nice! I'm playing around with the idea of Tamaki's mother. We really don't see much of her in the anime (yes, this is mostly anime-based since I don't have the money to buy the manga, and don't have the patience to sit down and hunt for it online!) so I'm playing around with the idea "What if...?"

So, "What if..."

Oh! And before I forget...yes, this is mostly Haruhi/Tamaki and Haruhi/Hikaru! My favorites! 3 So oooh, how's she gonna double-team this one?

ENJOY!

"The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.
But I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush on its petal tips;
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips."

- John Boyle O'Reilly "A White Rose"

Only the White Roses Wilt

:Chapter One:
Silly Fears

Haruhi sat down on the front steps of Ouran High School. She fanned her blazer out and wiped the sweat from her forehead. There were random spurts of yellow dresses through the gardens, and slight dashes of blue blazers, but she doubted any of them would be out for long. The week had been a continuous wave of heat, and it annoyed Haruhi to no end that Ouran hadn't issued their summer uniforms yet. "Dear God," she muttered with a tug on her collar, "you'd think with all these rich people they'd have built-in air conditioners in these things."

"Pfft," two identical voices intoned behind her. The twins looped their arms around her and sat on each side. "They do."

"I knew it," Haruhi hung her head. "So are we meeting today?"

Hikaru shrugged. "Dunno."

"We might," Kaoru chimed optimistically. "Our Tono might be up to it today."

"Idiot. Like anyone would be up to running a club after what happened last night between him and his father," Hikaru scoffed. "Think a little, will you?"

"I'm being optimistic."

"It's annoying."

"Well you're annoying --"

"GUYS!" The young woman yelled and put a hand over both of their faces. "Senpai's not the only one acting weird, you know." The twins cocked their heads simultaneously and blinked. She stomped her foot. "Stop fighting!"

"We," they pointed at themselves in disbelieve, "fighting?"

"Oh God," she put her head in her hands. There was only so much she could take in one day, and Tamaki Suoh had already stolen all of her patience -- and not because he was overly dramatic and annoying. In fact, today he wandered into school the exact opposite.

"Tono!"the twins had greeted together, lifting their heads from crooning to a lovely heart-shaped face. Haruhi remembered their slick smiles, and how it had dropped like slime from their faces. They had exchanged looks, and departed from the lovely girl. "Tono?"

Haruhi was seated on the opposite side of the Commons, nose-deep in Calculus. Her eyes wandered up from her notes as she watched Tamaki shuffle in through the lavish pink-hue entrance. Chills raced up her spine.

In trudged Tamaki Suoh, eyes rung raccoon dark with a sleepless night, his books crooked in his limp arms. His tie was lopsided and loose, his hair unkempt, his blazer rumpled. A few girls gasped in ghastly shock, and twittered to themselves worriedly. They didn't dare get close. Even the twins backed away.

The young woman named Haruhi Fujioka, on the other hand, did the exact opposite. "Senpai?" she abandoned her homework and fell into pace beside him. He didn't answer as they began up the long spiral staircase towards the Third Music Room. "Senpai, answer me."

"Go away, Haruhi," he muttered and passed on.

Haruhi paused for a split second, then set her speed after him. "No I won't!" she hissed. "What's wrong?"

He ignored her.

She grew frightened. Ever since Éclair Tonnerre had moved in and out of their lives, Haruhi grew frightened more and more often. It was a disease almost, and the only way to cover it up was to brush it off. She was tempted to. Oh, how she was temped to just snort and call him an ass, but fear makes people to silly things at silly times.

And Haruhi later wished she hadn't done such a silly thing.

Within a split second, she had grabbed his forearm. He stopped, but kept his eyes to the ground. "Senpai..." she gulped. "Please. What's bothering you?"

He only brandished an envelope, crinkled and dirty, from an inside pocket of his blazer, and handed it to her. "Don't let anyone else read." He began away again, the paused. "Not even the other Hosts."

And then he was gone.

Haruhi took the envelope out of her pocket and flipped it over to trace the broken French seal, golden and glimmering, the crackled, peeled letters S-U-O-H still visible if she smoothed the broken seal down. Her fingers shook. She hadn't opened it yet, afraid of what might have been inside. What monstrosities that would have caused her Senpai to act so foreign.

Hikaru and Kaoru exchanged looks. Kaoru nodded, stood, and left. Silently Hikaru and Haruhi sat, and then he pulled her close. "Our Tono is Tono," he told her softly. "He'll be back to normal soon, you'll see."

She nodded and placed the letter into her pocket again.

"He'll be fine," he soothed. "Do...you want to go get some strawberries? Aren't they fresh today at the market?"

She nodded silently.

"C'mon then. Don't let that stupid bastard get you down," and he helped her stand.

From the window of the Third Music Room, Tamaki Suoh watched two of his Hosts exit school grounds. He watched with dull eyes, and leaned heavily against the window sill. His lips curved into a pinpoint frown.

The music room was empty with silence. Even the piano sat silently against the back wall. Was this how he was going to remember his Host Club? It suited him, he thought sadly. It suited him just fine. There was a bouquet of roses in a vase on the table, newly bloomed and vibrant. Haruhi had picked them earlier that day from the garden maze.

"Senpai, they didn't have anymore white ones," Haruhi pushed her way inside the Third Music Room, carrying a bundle of vibrant red roses. "Only this one." She shifted arms and held out a slightly wilting white rose with a brown spot in the center. "It's ugly. I didn't think you'd like it."

Tamaki rose from his seat at the table and came over to take it. "No, it's beautiful," he replied the best he could, and gave a little smile. "White roses always seem to be the first to wilt, anyway."

She stared at him unblinkingly. "Senpai? Are you OK?"

"Of course," he replied airily. "Why wouldn't Senpai be OK?"

"Are you catching a cold? This morning..."

He waved it off carelessly. "Bah! This morning was a total disaster! I'm so ashamed you saw me like that!" And he playfully romped over to a shelf, and hummed while he retrieved an empty crystalline vase from the top shelf. "So how is my daughter doing?"

With a sigh, Haruhi carried the roses to the nearby table. "Fine, fine."

"Oh? Anything interesting?"

"Nope."

"Such a shame!" He set the vase down harder than necessary, and his smile slightly faltered. He bit his bottom lip, and fisted his hands. He knew Haruhi could see right through him. She always could. At the moment he was regretting ever handing over the letter. Maybe if he asked for it back, the consequences wouldn't be as bad. Maybe if he --

Haruhi began placing the blood-red roses into the vase. "One," she counted. "Two..."

He opened his mouth to ask for the letter back, then shut it again, and watched her. Her hair fell into her eyes, and she occasionally pushed it behind her ear. He imagined she did that a lot with longer hair, and now that it began to grow back again, he could tell the habit was old and delicate. He memorized her brown eyes. Her fingernails cut to the cuticle. Her thin lips. Her height. The way her cheeks always seemed to blossom with red when he stared for too long. It tugged at his heart to memorize all of it -- all of her.

But he wanted to remember.

"Eleven," she put the last rose in and frowned. "Huh, I thought I had twelve."

Helplessly, he knew he couldn't ask for the letter back. Instead, he extended the wilting white rose. "Here. A dozen."

For a rare and fleeting moment, she smiled at him. And he memorized that too.

He ran his fingers through his hair and bit his bottom lip. The white rose wilted still, the brown patch growing larger. It looked so silly and shrinking against the glorious red roses, and it looked so lonely too.

With a sigh, he took one last look around his music room, picked out the single white rose from the crystalline vase, and left without a word. Besides, he didn't take too well to goodbyes anyway.

Especially a goodbye to his Haruhi.

Continue? Or No?