I OWN NOTHING.

My lovelies….
Back by popular demand, sheer nerve, and the Host Club standing around knocking at my noggin, for you and you alone!
This is Rika, Kyoya, and the Host Club as you've NEVER seen them before! New faces arrive, new risks are taken, and even more is at stake!

I've only got ONE QUESTION FOR YOU!
….are you ready?

P.S. – Part of this first chapter is to give the Jar of Hearts' fans the finale and to set up for the new adventure.

Queen of Spades

"Revelations"

Part One: Where Dreams Go To Die

~Rika Ishikawa

I never thought I'd be twenty-six so fast.

Perhaps it's the speedster in me, the need for speed inside me at work, but there are times, like now, where I was somewhat reluctant to have grown up as fast as I had. Not staying in one place. Never settling down.

Maybe that's what happened to Kyouya and I. We never had time to slow down. After high school was over, the Host Club had officially dissolved but on good terms. We went our separate ways and took up our respective family businesses. I was CEO of Ishikawa Industries at last, and I did that job from high school up until now…

Kyouya, with my support, assumed his father's position in the Ootori Group at long last. Hikaru and Haruhi started a relationship, the twins taking up their mother's fashion business and Haruhi starting law school. Tamaki, in that summer before the Ouran Fair, had fallen in love with an American girl, Rosalie Pettifer. Rose was the heiress to her mother's chocolate company in San Francisco, and when Rose and Tamaki were both out of high school, they started up a spa in the mountains together. Mori and Honey formed a traveling martial arts clinic for the militaries of Japan and America.

Now…

I sighed, carrying the toddler to her cloud wallpaper bedroom and shoving the door open with my hip. My red hair billowed around Jayce's pensive face, her slow inhale-exhale fluttering the locks. I smiled fondly, sitting down on her bed and carefully laying her down. She was still in her puffy blue winter coat from when we were out strolling the winter wonderland the Kyoto park had. The lights had made her giggle and the corralled reindeer that they had made my baby girl squeal with delight.

I unzipped her coat, tugging it gently from her shoulders and took off her pink beanie, letting her own copper hair spill down her soft back. I pulled off her shoes and went to take off her socks, but a tiny hand pressed against my knuckles stopped me. She gazed up at me dreamily through her father's gray eyes. "Momma, keep my so-hahh," her mouth opened with her yawn, "-ckies on, kay?"

My mouth split into a wide smile on its own; I loved my daughter, more than I ever thought possible to love someone, anyone. I leaned down to kiss her forehead, and left her socks alone. "Okay, baby. Go to sleep for me. Goodnight."
"Night, Momma." Jayce responded with another quiet yawn, and as I got up to leave, her small voice halted me again. "Momma, when's Daddy coming tomowwow to pick me up?"

Daddy. Tears threatened for the second time today at the thought of Kyouya. It'd only been a year since we'd broken up, three since Jayce was born, a little over a year since Chase Bannon died…my father. I couldn't keep the lump in my throat out of my voice. "Ten tomorrow, Jayce. Sweet dreams."
"Sweet dweams, Momma."

Oh bless her heart, she's still having issues with those 'r's. I padded silently to the door, blew her a kiss and shut it. Tiptoeing down the hallway, I slipped into my office. I placed my scarf, hat, and pea coat on the coat rack, leaving me in just a fleece polo jacket and slacks with flats…Looking around my office…Jesus, I need a hobby… I still had a few pieces of paperwork left to do for tomorrow's demonstration, and with the right music-hence me going to the stereo and putting on the new Muse album I bought, this can be done! Watch me go.

It was some time after midnight that I heard this…thud. Over the roof of my balcony behind my office. My body was alert, reaching under my desk for the gun I always had taped there. I ripped it away and took my grip. I grumbled, glaring at my gun. Was I overreacting? It was a bird or something. Or the wind. Yeahh…

No. That's not it. I felt that pit in my stomach, the kind that only a mother can feel when her child is in danger. I made my way down to my daughter's room, and braced myself against the door. I counted to three and hoped to God I was wrong.

…and then I heard my baby scream. My blood ran absolutely ice cold and I whirled around, kicking open the door. A man was by her bed and I instantly put him in my sights, only to have him punch my gun away before I could fire. I ducked under his hook, experience and adrenaline spiking my blood like a high. A black ski mask was over his face, and I tried to claw at it, driving a knee into his ribs to get him to bend over in pain. Jayce screamed and screamed, clutching her blankets around her and stared, terrified. I tugged it off, gasping before snarling in rage. "Troy."

But the moment it had taken to say that had cost me. He drove his fist under my jaw, sending me to the floor and my vision spun and burst with white streaks. Through the flashes as I was stunned, I heard Troy's footsteps going towards where I left my-
BANG!

A white-hot barbed-wire sensation ripped through my shoulder, the bullet forcing all my vision into clarity through the pain. I pressed a hand against the wound in shock. I'd never been shot before, and stared on in disbelief as blood seeped out of the hole in my polo. My blood. I heard my daughter screaming louder, until she was cut off and when I snapped my eyes over to her, that fiend had her in his clutches. His hand was over her mouth. Wild fear crept into me as he sang to her, eerie and soft, "Hush little baby, don't say a word. Momma's gonna die for the whole damn world. And if you do try to scream, I shall wipe the world of the Host Club clean. And if your Momma tries to run, I'm gonna run faster into the sun. And if your Momma doesn't pay money, I'm gonna put a bullet in her honey."

"Troy, don't you-" I tried to say, but Troy's foot connected with my temple, walking past me towards the window.
"You heard me, Rika." Troy sneered, all the grandeur I had known him for in the past gone. "Jayce will not be harmed as long as you chase me, and the only way you get her back is for you and your Host Club to pay off your companies…and sell them to me. The chase starts in a week. Come and find me, girl who cannot be caught."

There, with the next swish of the curtains, he was gone. I tried desperately to crawl after them, tears streaming down my face and pained wheezes escaping my mouth. All that was left was a tiny phone. I guessed I'd use it to find out where Troy was. But it didn't have batteries and I needed…

"Mistress Rika!" Came a male voice from the door, and before I knew it, I had strong arms picking me up. One of my security guards. "We need to get you to a-"
"No," I hissed through my teeth, trying to breathe through broken lungs. "My office….Kyouya…Host C-c-…No hospitals. Don't let him…"

He seemed to understand. He carried me to my office and set me gently in my chair, taking off his suit jacket and balling it up, pressing it to my wound. He took the phone on my desk, and started dialing to save my life.

I lost consciousness fifteen minutes later and was thrust into a memory that I'd tried so hard to forget.

YEARS BEFORE

Rika Ishikawa was speed.

She had been since her father bestowed the knowledge of the automobile unto her years ago in Chicago. And even now, as she throws her leg over the Reaper, a motorcycle prototype her company was working on, she never thought she'd wean from the rush of adrenaline she feels when an engine starts up. She revved the engine once, twice…three times with a huge grin on her face. She threw up the kickstand and took off, rocketing out of Kyoto.

Today was the first day of the prestigious Ouran Fair.

As a Hostess, the only openly female hostess in the Host Club, it was her duty to be even more charming than usual to impress the customers, their families, and businessmen and women that come to see all that the Ouran student body had accomplished.

Yeah, Rika said sarcastically inside her helmet, A host and I'm running late. I'm such an American, I love it.

She leaned over into the turn once she approached on the boulevard leading up to the gates, and when she got there, the grand golden gates opened to her. The front gardens were pregnant with booths of art, music and cobblestone paths. The small river that ran right through Ouran in the back was transformed into a gondola ride to see some of the Renaissance art that was imported for the Fair. And as Rika passed, several greeting cheers and waves welcome her back to Ouran. Many were dancing on the grand floor before the main steps. The racer picked out Kasanoda, the awkward redhead gangster that had joined their ranks as Mori's apprentice. He glanced at her as she passed, and Rika lifted a hand back in greeting, turning and slowing to a halt in front of the main hall. Some glared at the unknown motorcycle curiously…that is, until she kicked up the stand again, dismounting and tugged her helmet off. Then the glares morphed to stares of intimidated recognition. She lifted her chin at them, shaking out her just-past shoulder length hair out before tying it in a neat ponytail. Rika raked her bangs down, and looked over her outfit. Kyouya had pre-ordered these weeks before the Fair, and now that the racer was finally wearing it, she had to admit she felt pretty good. Black dark-wash jeans for her alone, a brown belt under a black button-down long shirt, a white tuxedo vest and a red thread for a bowtie left Rika feeling oddly professional. She noticed the horse-drawn carriage she knew Hikaru was learning to drive, the brunette mares whinnying at her presence in the morning sun.

Tightening her neckwear, Rika muttered, walking on in, "Showtime."

Inside, the main hall was done up to the nines; couches, fine art, fountains, vases filled with beautiful plants, and crowds of people covered the hall like paintings. The only ones she recognized were the Hosts, fluttering and charming people left and right, wearing uniforms identical to hers. Rika's eyes, however, were on the Shadow King and she found him in a corner, automatically making a beeline for him.

"Rika," Kyouya said at his desk, standing up and smiling that million-dollar Host smile at her. Any other day and her longtime boyfriend would've kissed her hello, but they were amongst figures of authority, so they would settle for a respectable handshake. "You're here, fashionably late as well."

"Did you expect anything less?" Rika retorted with a smirk, and took a look around without apologizing for her tardiness. After a moment, she let out a low whistle. "Wow…looks like the opening title sequence for Lifestyles of the Rich and Pompous."

Kyouya chuckled, standing close to her. "Hello Pot, this is Kettle. You're black."

The racer shot him a glance, saying with mock-surprise, "Look at you with the one-liners."

"I say this out of affection, Rika."

She jerked her chin to the crowd. "So right to it, then?"

Kyouya looked to her suddenly, and noticed the way she mischievously gazed at him. They had been together for a number of months now, from the time Ouran let out for the summer last year until now in the early fall, and even now, Kyouya knew what was on her mind. Being alone and talking, spending time together. "Of course." And then he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Perhaps once your father leaves, hmm?"

"He's here, already?" Rika's surprise was genuine this time, scanning the room until she found her father's distinctly American voice talking to Mori and Honey a ways away from the central fountain.

Kyouya made a noise of recognition in his throat. "Ah yes, he talked to me once he got here. Thanked me for the pedestals I bought rush-order for the ah-…'hot rods', I think you called it?" Rika nodded, laughing a bit at the fact that it was Kyouya saying the words. "-you restored."

On a couple of pedestals spread out from each other in the room where a blue 1974 classic Mustang and a white 1985 Ferrari sat under a light, shining and gleaming from the hours of polishing and waxing Rika had done for them.

The racer took another glance around the room, and sighed. "Hasn't Tamaki overdone it this time?"

"That's what Haruhi said earlier." Kyouya grumbled, sounding annoyed. "Like I said, his capriciousness is overwhelming my accounting skills. But you know how Tamaki is." He sent her a knowing look and she smiled.

"He is our king, Kyouya." Rika conceded, moving to leave and looked over her shoulder back at the Shadow King, "Talk to you later?"
Kyouya's face split into a wide, whole-hearted smile and sat back down at his desk, his fingers braced on the laptop before answering her. "Undoubtedly."

With a second more to see him, Rika brushed through the crowd in a power-walk and made her way to her father. Chase had grown much older, lines riddling his face but he did look good for his age. He still had all his hair and his eyes still held that youthful twinkle. He saw her walking over first. "Rikki!"

Honey-sempai spun around and nearly tackled the racer over with a hug. "Rii-chan! You're here! Kyo-chan said you were running late!"

"Yeah," Rika said drolly, waving her hand. "Some things at the office I had to fix. Some incompetence I had to put into order." She and Mori greeted each other with a mutual curt nod and a handshake.

"That's my girl," Chase said, and the she paused to hug her father tightly. It'd been a few months since she'd seen him last, and this was their real reunion, after all. Her father pressed a kiss into her hair, and said, "Damn, I missed you."

"Missed you too, Dad." Rika managed to say, before they let go.

Before anyone could say anything else, they heard their king exclaim, "Father!"

Rika turned to see the chairman of the Ouran school board, a man of pale brown hair and in a striking white suit. A brunette female secretary was with him, and as Tamaki advanced on him, Yuzuru Suoh drawled out, "Please do not refer to me as 'Father', the term is far too familiar. You will address me properly as Chairman."

Adding to Rika's surprise was Tamaki's face hardening at that remark, as Kyouya came up to them both and smiling brightly at the elder Suoh. "Ah, very good! Welcome, sir. Allow me to show you to your seat."

"Thank you."
The racer didn't feel right, her nerves were restless and that was never a good sign with Rika. She turned to the two elder Hosts and said quietly, "Honey-sempai, Mori-sempai, stay with my father. I'll be right back."

Kyouya led the elder Suoh to a red velvet-backed couch before a fountain, his perky secretary following him. After the Chairman was seated, Rika came up and greeted the man with a respectful bow. The man's chestnut eyes focused on her and his lips twisted thoughtfully. "The famous Rika Ishikawa, greetings."

"I see my reputation precedes me," The racer responded smoothly, the Chairman reaching out for her hand and when she gave it, he placed a quick kiss on her knuckles.

"Indeed it does," He said, moving his gaze to Kyouya. "Ah, Kyouya my boy. If not for your being here, I'm sure this club would be in shambles. My son must give you no end of trouble."

Kyouya and Rika didn't have to exchange glances to both think to stand up for Tamaki, but the racer beat the Shadow King to the punch. "Hardly, sir. Without help from your son, none of what you see around you would be possible. It is truly his vision that keeps us motivated. He is a skilled leader, though he might not openly show it."

The Chairman's face did not change, did not ponder with thought at her words. He only smiled; not a genuine one, nor was it inauthentic. It was just a smile, and it was hollow as he stared at Rika for any hints of dishonesty. He did not see any.

Kyouya was unsure of what exactly was transpiring between them. He'd seen two people stare each other down before, of course, but….when it was the CEO of a successful and well-known automobile company and the Chairman of an elite school, there was something tangibly tense about it. They respected each other, that much any could tell, but they did not like one another. That, Kyouya knew, and in reaction to this, he leaned forward to ask the elder Suoh, "May I bring you anything?"

"Excuse me, sir." Rika said, bitterly breaking eye contact and walking away. Kyouya wished to talk with her, but when the Chairman beckoned him closer, Kyouya knelt down to hear what he had to say.

The racer walked away, head bent down and as Haruhi was called towards the Chairman, the little brunette looked worriedly at Rika's face as she passed. Kyouya, watching Rika leave with a frown, went back to working the crowd.

When Rika returned to her father, Mori and Honey weren't with him. He was eating a finger sandwich and holding a cup of the tea that the twins had been carting around. Chase's brow furrowed as she came up to him. "What is it?"

Rika sighed, leaning back against the wall next to him. "It…it just breaks my heart to see my friends treated unlike they should by the people that should love them unconditionally."

"Rikki," The older racer said, pausing to take a tentative sip of his tea. "Ugh…I hate tea."
"Then why did you take one?"

Chase gave her a sheepish look, "I didn't want to seem like an ass." Rika forced out a laugh without mirth, and Chase downed the rest of his sandwich, brushed off his fingers and placed that hand on her shoulder. "Rikki…you can't expect every parent to be as I am. Plus, you do have to realize that this is a very different culture than back home in Chicago."

"I know…" She admitted, but gazed up at her father weakly, "I just wish Tamaki and Kyoya's fathers saw them the way I do…they are among the best people I've ever met."

There was a loud smack.

Rika's head locked on a pair of glasses, ones she knew, falling to the floor. Kyouya was recoiling back and gasping in surprise; Kyouya's father…Yoshio Ootori, stood tall with his hand still raised with the follow-through of his slap, dressed in a black suit and his face an older version of Kyouya's, wearing a goatee. Rika's blood burned under her skin and before she knew it, she was being held back by Mori and her father on her shoulders.

"Is this how my son has been wasting his time?" Yoshio said, as his son numbly bent to pick up his glasses again. The red handprint was still visible on Kyouya's face. His father wouldn't even look at Kyouya as he belittled his son in such a fashion. "You are an embarrassment to the Ootori name."

Rika was muttering profanities under her breath, loud enough that Chase scolded, "Language, Rika."

Mori-sempai said in her ear, one of the few times he'd ever spoken to her directly. "You won't help him by choking out his father."

"But it'll sure as hell make me feel better," Rika snarled, shrugging off their hands as the older Ootori began to walk away, stopping for a short word with Tamaki's father. She whispered, "Let me go."

The hosts were a circle as Kyouya returned with shame smeared across his face. The racer stayed where she stood, but only stared at him, helpless. The king came up to him, concern in his blue eyes. "Kyouya…are you alright?"

The twins huddled together with looks of fear, Hikaru having the nerve to say, "Your dad is so mean…"

"Yeah! You should never ever hit a guy with glasses," Little Honey-sempai squeaked, but the twins gave him a flat look, Kaoru commenting:

"I don't think that's the issue here, sempai."

Haruhi asked what they were all wondering, looking Kyouya in the eye. "Sempai, he wasn't upset with you…because of the Host Club, was he?"

Tamaki took a step back with that, his mouth parting slightly. Kyouya managed to gaze upon his faithful Rika, and turned his back to leave, walking away towards a back room. "Forget about it…It's not like I haven't been expecting this."

The Club watched him go sadly; it was hard for all of them to see someone who'd always seemed so solid, so all together so brutally shattered like this- - though he didn't dare show it. It was a façade. Wordlessly, Rika followed him.

When I shut the door behind me, cutting out the sounds of the main salon, I wasn't sure of what to say that would help him. He sat solitarily on a couch with his back to me, and his head was lowered into his hands. I bit my lip when I saw that his shoulders were shaking with something between anger and sorrow. I left the room, and returned with ice wrapped in a thin towel. I went to sit beside him, and with a finger, I faced his head towards me. Kyouya stared as I pressed the pack against the handprint his father had put there with a bitter look in my eyes, and he held the ice to the redness.

Quietly, he said, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Really?" I asked incredulously; I couldn't believe he was apologizing. "You're sorry that your father slapped you in front of me for no reason?"

"I've told you what the situation is-" He tried to protest but I held up a hand, silencing him.

I knew this was tough love, and I had to do it, no matter how badly I didn't want to. "Kyouya, you have to stand up to your father."

He shook his head, removing his glasses and leaning over again, holding the ice. "No…I cannot. I must outshine my brothers in order to become the Ootori patriarch."

"But you think you can do that with perfect grades and manipulation?" I scowled, standing up and storming around in front of him. "You have been trying not to step on toes as you make your way to the top…and all to win your father's approval. Tell me I'm wrong."

The Shadow King was not used to being spoke to like this, and I could tell. I don't think he expected it to come from me, either. But I did this because I was his girlfriend; I was to be his greatest supporter. And I am, but I had to point out a flaw in his plan. "Have you ever thought that that's maybe what he wants to see from you? Business means sometimes not having to say you're sorry." He narrowed his eyes and I glared right back. "Need I remind you that I have a company to my name. I know what I'm talking about."

Kyouya blinked once, and moved his gaze to the floor. I exhaled through my nose stiffly. He didn't need this…at least not me yelling at him…He'd just been slapped by his father. I walked over to him, and stood right in front of him, both hands under his jaw tilting his face up. He gazed up at me, his gray eyes empty and joyless. His hand slid over my hip, bringing me close to him to stand between his knees. He put his ice down and wrapped both arms around my waist, resting the side of his face against my stomach. With a small frown, I began to stroke his black hair and hummed softly to him, deep in thought.

"Kyouya?"

He whispered, "Yes?"

"I know how you can do it," I whispered back, craning my neck down to kiss his hair. "How to win your father's approval."

He held me tighter. "How?"

I stepped back, and pulled him up to stand with me, his arms still around my hips. Our foreheads touched for a moment, before I told him what he must do.

"You must show your father that you are willing to play his game…but at the same time, you must remain yourself. You must show that you can take the Ootori Group into a new direction…when you accomplish that, you will win him." I kissed the corner of his mouth briefly.

He only spoke two words.

"Teach me."

It was some time before we left that room; and when we came back out, I saw with great pleasant surprise that Rosalie had come at last. Rose Pettifer came into our lives back at the casino, but out of any of us, Tamaki loved her most (although I love her more, and she was widely loved by the Club). She was a foot shorter than me, long blonde and straight hair flowing down her shoulders with several purple streaks through it. She had those blue eyes that looked like the crystal water in a harbor, and she wore clothes that were a little dressier than her typical skinny jeans, t-shirt and Converse combo. Black slacks and a sequined teal blouse, a necklace I know for a fact she got from Tamaki around her neck. Along with the piercings up her ears and her nose, Rose was a beautiful person.

When I first saw Rose, I liked her simply because she marched to the beat of her own drum. She was the type of teenage chaos that made Japanese elders cringe, and she reminded me of me in a way. She originally became known to the Host Club as a musician, one we used for a special casino night months ago. Rose was one of the best women on a trumpet I'd ever seen and once she and Tamaki on the piano played together for the first time, well…I think he fell for her then and there, just didn't realize it until summer hit. They were always together until a month ago, when Rose was called home, but they were in love…that I knew. Even if her personality wasn't impressive enough, she was the heiress to her mother's chocolate company in America and her father worked at the Alcatraz prison for a time. To me and the Club, she was a valued friend. But to Tamaki, she was more.

And besides…the Host king needs his Rose, doesn't he?

Once Kyouya and I were in sight, the Club came up to us with Rose and appeared worried. The Shadow King went to his desk nearby while I asked, "What is it, guys?"

"Rika! The boss's grandmother just ordered him to escort some stranger around for the remainder of the Fair," Hikaru started, and then Kaoru, as per usual, finished his sentence, "And we don't really know who she is."

I noticed that Haruhi was looking away, as if she knew more than she was letting on. My guess was that she'd talked to this woman before the king's grandmother brought her up. I know the brunette not to hold back unless she had reason to.

Rose pressed further, her eyebrows pulling together, "I saw the whole deal. What's this chick's story?"

"I could tell you."

From behind us came a voice we recognized instantly before the twins' spoke simultaneously. "Oh, Renge."

Rosalie nudged me, and when I looked, she rolled her eyes. Rose was never a big fan of Renge, and neither was I, but at this moment in time, Renge had information I wanted. And so I listened to the manager talk.

"Éclair Tonnerre," Renge began melodramatically, her hands clasped in front of her pink dress. "She's the youngest daughter of the renowned French Tonnerre family. They descend from royalty."

Kyouya made a noise of recognition from his desk, and I leaned against his chair as he typed, the light from the screen casting a glare across his glasses. "Indeed, the family has a bit of a history. Their wealth is legend among financial pillars, and even being merely associated with them makes you part of a very elite group." I scoffed, but he still continued. "They also own Grand Tonnerre, a firm that's been buying out many businesses in Japan recently."
I scrunched my face. "Why haven't I been hearing of these people?"

"I haven't heard anything from Mom, either," Rose commented, crossing her arms.

I shook my head, my bangs bouncing about my face with the motion. Kyouya looked up at me, his lips a hard line. "Of course this doesn't explain why Lady Éclair is visiting Tamaki."

"No. It doesn't." Rose grumbled, and little Haruhi came up to put a hand on her shoulder, offering a smile to the San Francisco native. I placed my own on her other one.

"I promise you, Rose," I said sincerely, looking the trumpeter in the eyes. "We'll figure it out."

Later, Rose was walking into the third music room and was about to retrieve Rika's keys like she requested when she heard voices from a nearby room. For every main music room, she knew there were two smaller rooms that branched out, but when everyone was downstairs at the Fair…this was odd. And then she heard the piano music. The piano music that had lulled her to sleep when she thought about it, the music she'd played her beloved trumpet to and she knew this music was Tamaki's. Who else could flutter his fingers over the keys so effortlessly?

She locked a finger around Rika's Ferrari keys and made her way tentatively towards the door. Rose reached it, and put her hand around the knob, leaning in to press her ear against the wood. She heard a female voice she didn't know speak from inside. She assumed it was that French broad, Éclair.

"So this is where this Host club of yours hold court, is it? I must admit it was impressive seeing you in action earlier. You all must be very close."

Damn right we are, Rose thought hotly, gritting her teeth before she heard Tamaki's voice, sweet and slow as he played.

"Naturally. You know what they say: a family that plays together, stays together."

Rose smiled at that. That is, until she heard Éclair's snide reply to that.

"Family? What a sentimental notion. I believe here in Japan, they refer to that as 'playing house'." Rose rolled her eyes, as the woman inside continued. "You're so whimsical, Tamaki. I bet they fall all over themselves trying to keep up with you….especially that one in the glasses, the one that got slapped by his father?"
Rose's eyes widened; she hadn't known that. Kyouya-sempai was slapped? Was…was that why it took he and Rika so long to get there? Because she was consoling him? It took her a moment to realize that the music had stopped, and she could picture her Tamaki's face at those words. She knew Tamaki and Kyouya were almost like brothers.

With a hardened face, Rose finally had the nerve to turn the doorknob. When she hesitated to push it open, she heard Éclair's voice from inside call out, "Who is it?"

She let the door swing open, and entered the room. Rose had been inside this room before, only it was her sitting on the couch before the piano, not a honey-haired French shrewish woman. Rose instantly began sizing her up; Éclair had thin shoulders and a small frame, with piercing blue eyes. From her, Rose moved her gaze to Tamaki at last and all annoyance fled from her face and his.

Their eyes met and for a surreal moment, Rose would've run to him. And with a small relieved smile on his face, she knew he would've met her halfway…if not for Éclair, that is.

The king spoke, his voice strong as she remembered, "Rose! You're here!" He stood to his full height, but Rose didn't move. She would not give that Éclair woman the satisfaction of knowing Rose's weakness. Her only one. Tamaki questioned with a smile, "What're you doing here in Japan? I thought you were in America until October."

Rose's mouth curled into a humorless smirk. "I need an excuse to see you?"

"Of course not, but-" He started to say, but Éclair silenced him by raising a hand, a look of scrutiny on her face towards the San Francisco native.

At the sight of another woman having a control on a man like Tamaki, Rose composed her face into a mask and tried to hide her feelings, saying, "I came up for Rika's keys," She held up her fingers as proof, the silver glinting in the light. "But I heard Tamaki playing, and I came to see if you wanted to come do what you're supposed to. Look, everyone's upset with you. You should be with your club."

Tamaki shot her an apologetic and sheepish look, but Rose only glared at him. She knew he knew she would do anything for him, but Rose would also give him the brutal truth. The rose's 'thorn' of sorts, and to Tamaki, she was his rose.

"My apologies," Éclair said, bringing those opera spectacles to her eyes, "I'm afraid he belong to me for the time being." Rose widened her eyes in anger at that, and the Frenchwoman only chuckled, continuing, "Pardon me, but it seems that someone is a little jealous…tell me, if the club is so upset, why did you come instead of fetching a host?"

Rose had had enough, and her fists clenched at her sides, the keys digging almost painfully into her palm. "Okay, lady…I've been nice up till now." Rose leveled her ocean blues to Éclair's and nearly growled at the other woman. "I'm not a Host, so I don't have any problem saying this to you. I don't need nor want your backsass. You want a host? Go talk to Rika, she'll show you the door politely. I came to talk to Tamaki, but I see that's not what stands before me here."

Tamaki's jaw dropped in shock, not in anger…but in sadness. He had let his Rose down, and it was written all over his beautiful face. To him, she was the rose he kept close and offered to girls but never parted with, never let go of, just as he never promised himself to any one girl. He only promised himself to that rose, and just like the rose, the king had promised himself to Rose Pettifer. Éclair blanched, but Rose went on in the silence.

"The Tamaki I know is a king among the kings and queen of the Host Club. You," Rose said, her fire leaving her as she forced herself to say the words to Tamaki, "I don't recognize you and I hate it. Who did I come all this way for?"

Before she could lose it in front of her first love and her newfound enemy, Rose turned and left. She threw the door open and behind her as she departed, the slam ending in a loud bang.

After the door was closed, Tamaki finally made himself move and tried to rush after her, "Rosalie-Rose, wait up!"

But a hand clamped around his wrist, stopping him. He halted, turning to find Éclair Tonnerre had been the one stopping him. Her face was sarcastic as he stared at her quizzically, her voice astounded. "Please, you can't possibly be interested in an American shrew like that?"

Tamaki spun around, spitting angrily at Éclair, "My lady! I would appreciate it if you would not refer to my Rose as a shrew! Furthermore, I know three Americans and all three are among the greatest people I've ever met!"

Éclair kept his wrist between her hands, stroking his thumb and knuckles with her dainty fingers as she looked down. "Your Rose?" She laughed softly but not genuinely. "They're not real family, Tamaki. So stop playing house."

Suddenly, she pulled him forward and threw him along the couch on his back, Tamaki gasping in surprise. "Wha-what are you doing?"

Scaring him, she sat delicately on the edge of the couch. "Wouldn't you prefer the real thing? I can give it to you, you know."

"She's been up there twenty minutes, I'm worried," I confessed, staring at the door Rose had disappeared behind that lead up to the third music room. The hosts had all changed outfits, the males and Haruhi wearing a yellow tuxedo, a red tie and a pink undershirt with brown dress pants. I was wearing a female version, the silhouette more feminine and fitting to my form. The twins and Haruhi were talking at a concession table a ways from me, Mori and Honey sitting at another table eating cake and talking idly to each other. We were in a back parlor, it just being the hosts in this room.

Kyouya put his hand over mine shortly, trying to calm my nerves before going back to typing with both hands. "Rika, she'll be just fine."

"Of course she will, she's an American." I said proudly, and switched my footing as I leaned on the edge of his desk. "I'm just concerned about this Éclair woman and what'll happen if Rose gets in a room with her-hey!"

The door I'd been staring at finally moved, the familiar face of Rose coming into view. I unhitched myself and stepped forward, but my welcoming grin drooped at the sight of her eyes. Empty and hollow, would be how I'd describe them. "Rose?"

"Are you alright, Rosalie?" Kyouya asked, his eyebrows tugging together. As she came up to us, the other hosts closed ranks around her in a circle.

"No, I'm not," She said quietly, and she wouldn't meet my eyes, but her voice shook. I couldn't tell if it was anger…or betrayal. "I found Tamaki upstairs with that Éclair woman. He couldn't even get a word out if it wasn't for that witch…I barely recognized him."

"Well…" Haruhi started, her lips pursing pensively, "He has been acting more irresponsible than usual." The brunette looked to the Shadow King. "You said it yourself, Kyouya-sempai. He's impulsive."

Kyouya only smiled and he and I exchanged glances. Without Tamaki here, he and I would have to lead this club and keep everything from falling apart. He answered her, "True. He certainly is, but in this case he's obeying the wishes of his grandmother."

"Hmm…" Rose hummed, her face puzzled. "Actually, his grandma was really cold towards him earlier…called him 'filthy child', even. What's her damage?"

Kyouya and I looked at each other again; we hadn't been there for that and we shared a frown at the news. I didn't know why that was and by the looks of it, neither did Haruhi, but Kyouya and the others seemed visibly uncomfortable to share this. Like it wasn't their secret to tell.

Hikaru put his head against his hand, "Well…everyone else knows about it…" He looked to his brother, and Kaoru said what everyone but Rose, Haruhi, and I knew. "You see, Sempai is illegitimate."

Rose sucked in a breath and scanned the twins' for any signs of a lie. I did too, but didn't find any. I was shocked…Haruhi put her hand over her mouth.

The twins nodded in unison and Hikaru began explaining, "Twenty-something years ago, the Suoh family patriarch died at a young age. For political reasons, Tamaki-sempai's grandmother rushed Chairman Yuzuru into a marriage to a woman of her choosing." Kaoru continued, "Years later, Chairman Yuzuru fell passionately in love with a beautiful young woman he met in Paris."

Little Honey-sempai piped up happily, "Shortly after, Tama-chan was born!"

"But when Chairman Yuzuru tried to marry Sempai's mother," Hikaru said, "Sempai's grandmother vehemently objected. Because of her poor health, living in Japan proved too difficult for Sempai's mother. So she raised him in France until he was fourteen."

Kaoru picked up, "His childhood seems to have been a happy one, but as time wore on, the family business on his mother's side went downhill…and when they were forced into debt, the boss' grandmother worried about there being no heir to carry on the family name…she came up with a proposal. The boss' grandmother would give his mother enough to live just fine for the rest of her life, and in exchange Tamaki-sempai would come live with them in Japan. Sempai and his mother couldn't have any more contact and haven't since."
Kyouya stood up then, and moved to put his arm around me, his hand on my waist before he spoke, "Although Chairman Yuzuru is technically the family's patriarch, much of the family assets remain under the control of Tamaki's grandmother…and what's more, being that his mother's health was so frail, he understood the grim prospect of her living in debt…so he agreed." He took a long breath and continued, "Later…out of depression or the guilt of having bartered her son away from financial support…Tamaki's mother left France in shame and went into hiding. Her current whereabouts are unknown, and to this day, he has never seen her again. Not once."

Tears welled up in my eyes, remembering how my mother died of cancerous lungs and her own slow-killing grief. Kyouya pressed a kiss to my temple in response, and I sucked it back. Rose was already crying, silent tears streaking down her cheeks as she learned of her Tamaki's misfortune. Haruhi was also very still.

"It's easy to feel sorry for him," Kyouya said, holding me close as I got a hold on myself. "But the hardships that tormented him as a child have molded him into the man he is today."

I managed to finally grin to the girls and the Hosts, "He'll be fine…The Host Club is his refuge."

Kyouya returned my smile, and it was genuine, so whole-heartedly genuine. It dried even Rose's tears. His velvety voice was soothing as he finished the tale of the king, "…which means when all is said and done…He still has us."

There was a beautiful moment when the eight of us all looked at each other and smiled. We were friends, and nothing would break that. Nothing could shatter us. Along with the king, the nine of us are the strong. We are the elite Ouran Host Club.

And then the door burst open, the same Rose had just come out from. Golden light filtered from the silhouettes, and the blank mask of Tamaki and the smug face of Lady Éclair stared upon us. Rose took a step forward in anticipation, and Kyouya and I let go of each other in surprise.

"Tama-chan!" Honey-sempai exclaimed, but something didn't seem right with the king.

His voice chilled me to the bone. "Everyone…I have an important announcement to make…As of today, Lady Éclair Tonnerre and I are officially engaged." If it weren't for me being nearby, Rose would've fallen to her knees. She clutched onto my hand almost painfully as Tamaki went on. "Furthermore…the Ouran Host Club will be permanently dissolved…after the Ouran Fair. That is all."

There was a chilling silence, before Rose whirled around and ran off. Kyouya gripped my other hand, and I shot Tamaki a death glare, the dirtiest I could muster. I was profoundly disappointed in him. Disappointed and angry and grieved…But this was not about me. I was not the only one hurting. Holding the boy with the heart of ice's hand for a moment longer, I let go and ran after Rosalie Pettifer.

She wasn't far, but was rather at the bottom of the stairs, sitting on the bottom stair crying. I didn't blame her. I was inches from breaking down myself. How could he? I came up to her, carefully sitting down by her and drew her into my hug. She buried her face in my shoulder and I stroked her hair, like I had for Kyouya.

"Shhh…shhh…I'm here, Rose. I'm here." I whispered to her, "It's okay…"

I sucked in a jagged breath.

"It's okay."

Nothing could tear us apart…well, nothing but this. And that's what scared me most.

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