First chapter of my new Ouran fic! This is one I've been wanting to do for a while, so as you can probably imagine, I'm pretty exicited. XD

The first few chapters are already written out, so this'll likely be updated once or twice a week, depending on how everything goes and how long it takes me to edit each chapter. Also so there is no confusion, all the bolded and italicized parts are Tamaki's inner monologue. That'll pop up throughout the story.

So that's all I have to say for now. I hope you enjoy the first part of Commoner Club!

PS: Don't expect chapters to be this long again. I'm pretty sure this was a fluke.

"Suoh-san, are you ready?"

"…"

"Suoh-san?"

"Y-yes, sorry. I'm ready."

"Alright, show me how to properly put in the magazine."

"Right, okay…"

…

"How's that?"

"Almost, but it's backwards."

"Oh… sorry."

"Don't be, just try again Suoh-san."

…

"Very good, now let's practice aiming."

"Yes, sir…"

I have this reoccurring dream that I'm in a field. An empty field similar to the ones I used to play in as a boy, only those fields were covered in healthy green grass and beautiful flowers, a cool breeze would blow in my face while the sun shone down on me.

This field is completely bare, and the air around me is stale and hard.

I don't really do anything, just stand there looking straight ahead, listening for any kind of sound and finding none.

Whenever I have that dream, I wake up in a cold sweat. I need several minutes to calm myself down before I stumble to the bathroom and splash some water on my face. When I'm done, I turn around and straighten up. In that order. I make sure never to look at my face in the mirror, because it's no longer my face.

Katsuo-san tells me I'm overreacting. 'It's for your own good,' he says. He just doesn't understand how I feel when I look in the mirror and see my blonde hair stained with black, or the brown color contacts covering my violet eyes.

I don't look like myself.

I don't FEEL like myself.

And the worst part is that that's the whole point!

Oh yes, I should probably introduce myself, though to be honest, I'm not really sure what name to give you.

Up until one month ago, I was Rene Tamaki Richard Grantaine, or Tamaki Suoh, son of Yuzuru Suoh and potential heir to the Suoh Empire.

Today, and for the foreseeable future, I am Tamaki Okada. Just a middle class commoner about to start his first day at public school. I wish I could feel more excited about this.

Instead, I just feel sick.

There were a variety of sounds gently assaulting Tamaki's ears as he sat heavily on the wooden, un-cushioned bench outside the Principal's office.

Birds were chirping loud outside the cracked open window; the voices of his soon-to-be fellow students blended into a murmuring mesh down the hall to his left; descending footsteps came from his right; behind him, the Principal was on the phone discussing the rescheduled budget meeting; Tamaki himself hadn't made a sound since he'd been told to sit down and wait for his guide to arrive.

He shifted around, hoping that maybe if he got into a certain position, the ache he'd developed from this hardwood bench would start to fade. How did commoners sit like this anyway?

He'd have to learn that and much, much more fast, considering he was a commoner now, be it all just an act or not.

In some ways, the whole situation was kind of funny, as Tamaki had always been curious about the lives of those less well off than him. He grew up eating only the finest foods prepared by world famous chefs. His clothing was tailor made by top designers hand picked by his mother. He attended the finest private school in France taught by the finest professors in all manner of subject. Everything was available to him, it was like the whole world was at his beck and call.

So what about the rest of the world? The vast majority who had to work for their money and make their own meals and buy clothes from thrift stores and go to plain old public schools? What kind of lives did they lead?

It wasn't an unreasonable thing for him to wonder. After all, it's human nature to be curious, especially about the things we don't understand. Tamaki had wanted from a young age to understand commoners.

Now here he was, finally getting that chance, but not nearly in the way he'd hoped.

Tamaki briefly looked up, his eyes found the reflective glass of the window and he immediately dropped them. He had that reaction every time he saw his beautiful hair tarnished by inky black hair dye. His contact covered eyes were no better, a dull brown not unlike the vast majority of Japan's population.

His face remained the same, but the features that once complimented it hadn't. He looked so… ordinary. So much less handsome than he truly was.

"You have to blend in," Katsuo-san had informed Tamaki the day he dragged him kicking and screaming to the hair dresser. "We've managed to erase all the photos of you that we could, however they do know your name and could very easily find you with only that. It is imperative that you remain inconspicuous, Suoh-san, and that means the blonde hair has to go."

He'd been so blunt about it, so unsympathetic. Tamaki hadn't known Katsuo-san for long, but already he had the distinct impression that the thirty something year old man had forgotten how to smile at some point in his early years.

Tamaki sighed. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the thickly coated strands and shuddering. When he was done, Tamaki slammed his hand back down on the bench and stood up straight, eyes closed so he wasn't at risk of seeing the window again.

'Alright,' he said to himself. 'This is all going to work out. Father and Grandmother will have everything back under control before the week is out. Until then, I just have to make the best of things. I've always wanted to see how commoners live, now I can get some first hand experience.'

He gave another sigh, this one resolute and hopefully the last to leave his lips.

'I can do this, I can live as a commoner. It's not like I'm alone, Katsuo-san and Sekigawa-san are with me and maybe I'll even make some friends here. As long as they don't find out who I really am…'

Tamaki opened his eyes. Part of his new resolve was that he would finally find the strength to look at his disguised self with no fear or resentment. He kept his gaze locked on the faint image of himself, of his black hair and his brown eyes.

His large, feminine brown eyes.

Wait, those weren't his eyes.

Tamaki blinked, suddenly aware of the person standing on the opposite side of the window. He remained completely still, captivated by the vision of her eyes attached to an oval shaped face framed by long, hime cut brown hair. Though he was seated, he could tell he towered over her, their eyes were practically level as it was. Her standard, school issue Sailor Fuku betrayed a delicate, thin body lacking even a hint of curves. Somehow, that worked for her rather than against.

In short, the girl was absolutely adorable. Beautiful, even.

Tamaki had seen many beautiful women during his time in France. Tall, high class women ranging from busty to lithe, but none of them ever got his attention like this one. She blinked once, giving off an air of innocence and confusion that only served to make her cuter. Their eyes gazed into each other's, Tamaki felt his nerves growing again, but for a completely different reason. She tilted her head to one side, perhaps just as enamored with him as he was her.

Then she licked her index finger and rubbed it against a small stain on the glass. Presumably satisfied, the girl turned on a heel and walked away. Tamaki could only watch her go, blinking in confusion and wondering what had just happened.

A door slammed, making him jump. He turned his head to find a trio of young men chatting and laughing amiably. Tamaki watched them intently, feeling a mix of different emotions, though most of all sadness. He wondered if he'd ever have friends he could laugh with like that.

One of the reasons he'd actually been looking forward to Japan was that maybe he could find some real friends, rather than the fake ones he endured in his old school. The only real friends he'd ever had were either servants or moved away and lost touch with him after a while. It didn't sit well with the social butterfly that was Tamaki, being alone simply wasn't something he could tolerate for long.

"Hey, what are you looking at?"

Tamaki started, unaware that he'd spent the last few second aimlessly staring in the boys' direction. This action, it seemed, had invoked their ire, if the glares they were shooting at him was any indication.

Tamaki felt a gasp catch in his throat and sunk back into the wall as much as he could.

"I asked you a question," the boy in the middle demanded. He was tall, taller than Tamaki even, with messy brown hair and hard brown eyes. He was a great deal more muscular as well, likely an athlete of some sort. Tamaki had no doubt that if this boy wanted to, he could crush his skull between his hands with little to no effort.

"I- I'm sorry," Tamaki's smile masked his inward struggle to maintain composure. "I was rather lost in thought and didn't realize I was staring. It wasn't my intention to bother you."

"Yeah, well you did," the boy seethed. "I don't like being stared at."

He forward threateningly while his friends gave Tamaki malicious grins. As if to say, 'you're gonna get it now.'

"Look, I'm sorry," Tamaki repeated, sweat pouring down his cheeks. "I mean it, really."

"What's going on over here?"

The three boys tensed, and the one closing in on Tamaki shoot backwards as if he'd been punched.

The new arrival stormed over, her practical shoes making soft thumps against the linoleum floor. Her own brown hair was pulled back neatly in a ponytail, not a single strand out of place. Hazel eyes were gazing into those of the young man whom Tamaki had just been threatened by, her otherwise pretty face marred by a scowl. The disguised young man felt a great deal of amazement at the sight. This boy was twice the size of the girl, and yet he seemed genuinely intimidated by her, even more so than his friends.

"Well?" the girl demanded a second time, crossing her arms over her chest.

The second and third boys glanced at the first, waiting for him to reply.

"Nothing," he said gruffly, looking away from the girl. "It's nothing Aki- …Oshiro-san. We were just introducing ourselves to the new guy, that's all."

Oshiro raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Well, Kurosawa, you, Motou and Sato here will have to wait. I'll be showing him around the school this morning."

Flipping her hair back, the girl turned up her nose to the trio, noticeably avoiding getting too close to the one called Kurosawa. His friends quickly started walking away, but Kurosawa remained long enough to take a lingering look at Oshiro, something that didn't go unnoticed by Tamaki.

Oshiro then turned to him, her angered look replaced by a warm smile as she bowed to him.

"Okada Tamaki, I presume? It's nice to meet you," she greeted him. "I'm Oshiro Akiko, I'll be showing you around today."

Tamaki blinked, his earlier fear leaving and a strange sense of calm overcoming him. He felt a smile tug at his lips, bullies may not have been something he was accustomed to (and hopefully never would be), but making conversation with a beautiful young lady? That he could do no matter how he looked.

He hoped.

"It's nice to meet you, Madm-" Tamaki stopped.

This action was met with a surprised look from Oshiro, but Tamaki was too busy straightening up and bowing low so she wouldn't she his face. He couldn't believe he'd almost slipped up like that. Hopefully, Oshiro wouldn't notice.

"I'm very happy to be here," he said fast as if believing it would cover up his error.

"Uh- well, we're very happy to have you," the somewhat flustered sounding Oshiro answered.

Tamaki smiled in response, even though his mind was once again being violently assaulted by Katsuo-san's very unforgiving voice.

"You cannot do anything that would even remotely identify you as foreign. You must not speak a word of French, understand? Also, try not to have any elaborate conversations with anyone just yet. Your Japanese is improving but it still needs a great deal of work. Now, go over your verbs again and do not waste Sekigawa-san's time."

Tamaki shivered involuntarily. He was like a drill sergeant, that Katsuo-san.

They walked though the halls side by side, passing the cafeteria and the gymnasium along the way. Oshiro spent most of this time going over the finer points of the school, and Tamaki listened intently. The starry eyed boy who was so curious about commoners was starting to emerge.

"Genpaku Junior High really is a great school," Oshiro raised a hand, waving straight ahead as a general statement. "It's not the most wealthy and to be honest, the lighting kind of sucks, but we've also got one of the best Football teams in Tokyo. There's also baseball, swimming, I'm in track myself."

"That sounds nice," Tamaki interrupted as gently as he could. "But I'm not really into sports."

Oshiro looked deflated for moment, but perked back up surprisingly quick.

"It's okay, we have a decent Arts and Music program too if that's more your thing."

Tamaki nodded, his fingers twitching instinctively as he imagined himself in front of his favorite grand piano, where he'd spent countless hours going over scales and disjointed tunes until he felt like his hands would fall off. How he'd loved that piano.

The piano he left back in France.

He felt his stomach do an unpleasant twist and he stifled a sigh that built up in his throat.

Not wanting to dwell on such frivolities, Tamaki turned his attention elsewhere, but that proved to be something of a mistake when he tuned into a conversation held by two more students close by.

"…completely bankrupt. Of course, that's just a rumor. The company's been very secretive, locking down all major databases until 'further notice' as they say."

"So where do you think they are now?"

"The Suoh's? Probably in hiding or something. I know I wouldn't want to show my face in public if I were them."

The two girls chuckled while Tamaki clenched a fist and bit down on his lip. Their voices faded away, but it was still a few seconds before he came out of it and noticed Oshiro a good five feet ahead of him. Tamaki started and walked quickly to catch up, getting the tail end of what she was currently saying.

"…You and I are in Class 3. I'm the current Representative, which is why they sent me to be your guide."

Oshiro stopped and pointed at a door just up ahead.

"That's our homeroom right there. Come on, the bell is going to ring in a minute."

Tamaki nodded, but that was all. He would've liked to give his gracious guide a smile and charm her into oblivion like he did every other girl or woman he ever encountered, but all of a sudden, he could think of nothing besides the fact that today was his first day of school.

New school.

Commoner school.

Perhaps it hadn't fully hit him until just then, but the weight of this realization made his insides shake with nervousness.

'Calm down,' his inner voice all but shouted. 'Don't be so scared. This is no different than Ouran would have been. Aside from the different location and the constricting hallways and the itchy material they made this uniform with and the awful smell in the bathroom, this is absolutely no different.'

Oshiro opened the door, signaling with a nod for Tamaki to follow. Tamaki closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again as he stepped inside.

'I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.'

The homeroom teacher, a woman with a young face and cropped black hair, glanced up when they arrived, her face breaking out in a grin as she called the class to attention and motioned for Tamaki to come stand next to her.

He took three big strides to reach her, afraid that if he didn't do it quickly, he'd lose his nerve and run.

"Alright class, as you all know, a new student will be joining us today," the teacher announced, patting Tamaki on the shoulder. "This is Okada Tamaki, who comes to us from Hokkaido. Okada, would you like to tell us a little about yourself?"

At her words, all twenty four pairs of eyes went to Tamaki. Oshiro, who had taken her seat in the front row, gave him an encouraging smile, as if sensing his fears.

'Okay, here it comes,' Tamaki told himself. 'You know the cover story, so just relax.'

"Hello," he slowly, perhaps a bit too much so. "My name is Tamaki, I'm from Hokkaido…"

'Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.'

"I moved here with my parents for my father's new job. I hope to be great friends with all of you."

He heard a snort, followed by laughter. Tamaki's eyes went to the spot he'd heard them and his insides froze. Kurosawa, the angry young man from before, sat flanked by Sato and Mutou in the back row. All three of them were shooting rather unnerving smiles his way. Tamaki swallowed, a miserable feeling rising within him. How great, only his first day and already he'd made enemies.

His shoulders slumped and his head hung low, Tamaki shuffled to the desk the teacher pointed out to him. It was directly behind Oshiro, which meant at least one thing was going for him. Who knows, he could have had to sit with Kurosawa and his friends. Tamaki shivered involuntarily. As he sat down, he noticed Oshiro with her head down and heard the audible scritch-scratching of the girl's pen before she abruptly sat up.

The Class Representative then lifted her arms up high and gave an over the top yawn while simultaneously dropping a wad of paper on Tamaki's desk. He stared awkwardly at it for a few seconds before a light bulb went off in his head and excitement pooled in his stomach.

'Oh, I know what this is! Commoners like to pass notes in school as a form of rebellion against the oppressive educational system! Only my first day, and already I'm including in the resistance. I feel so accepted!'

Figurative tears gushed from Tamaki's eyes as he opened the note, taking extra care not to rip any corners. Once he'd flattened it completely, his eager eyes greedily drank in the contents.

Don't be scared, Okada-kun. You'll get the hang of things faster than you know. Remember, if you need any help, you can always come to me.

Tamaki literally cried this time, much to the bafflement of the students on either side of him. Such a wonderful friend Tamaki had found and on his first day even! Drying his tears, Tamaki read the last part of Oshiro's note.

Don't worry about Kurosawa or his meathead friends either. They talk tough, but there's no bite behind it. Believe me, they are no representation of the student body. Most of the people here are really very nice.

The brunette girl from before came to his mind again and her adorable face and cute uniform. Tamaki had no idea why he was thinking of her so much, she wasn't in his class and there was no guarantee he'd ever see her again. Plus, who knows if she's really one of the 'nice people' Oshiro mentioned. She could be an awful, selfish person who'd look down on him and sneer at his appearance for all he knew.

'No,' his mind firmly stated. 'She's not like that. No one with a face like hers could be a bad person. She's just too cute for it.'

Tamaki barely paid attention to the first half of the lecture, which would come back to bite him later when Sekigawa-san drilled him on what he learned that day. For now, he filled his mind with that girl's face and wondered what her name was and when (not if, when) he would ever see her again.

Around ten minutes before the bell was to ring, the door opened with a whine that got everyone's attention, even the day-dreaming Tamaki. When he saw the newcomer, the crash his train of though went through was the stuff of legends.

It was her.

There she was! Brown hair, brown eyes, adorable face. This was the window girl, she was here!

"Excuse me," she spoke. Tamaki felt like he could melt, she had the sweetest speaking voice. "I don't mean to interrupt, but I was asked to deliver a note to you, Yuiko-sensei."

The teacher accepted the held out slip of paper and dismissed the girl with a small smile and a wave of her hand. Tamaki's eyes moved in time with her steps, and lingered on the door long after her long brown hair whipped out of sight.

The rest of the class went by in a blur, Tamaki simply could not stop thinking about that girl. He only wished he had a name to attach to her face, unfortunately his knowledge of Japanese names was a bit limited. He couldn't think of a single one that would suit her.

"Hey, Oshiro?" He asked while sitting with her and a few of her friends for lunch (pork flavored ramen noodles, he'd always wanted to try those). "That girl that was here before? You know, the messenger girl?"

Oshiro looked up from her Onigiri, momentarily blinking before her eyes went alight with recognition.

"Oh, you mean Fujioka? What about her?"

"Fujioka…" Tamaki repeated to himself. He noted what an odd name that was and then remembered that the Japanese often addressed each other by last names.

His return to dreamland came to a halt when he realized Oshiro, along with her two friends, were waiting for his response and giving him odd looks, likely due to the stupid grin on his face.

"Oh, I- uh-" Tamaki scrambled to pick up the fallen shards of his composure. "I was curious, that's all."

This seemed to satisfy Oshiro, but not so much her two friends. The girls, who had introduced themselves as 'Konimi' and 'Shiba' gave each other devious aside glances, small smiles forming on their faces that made Tamaki nervous.

"You wouldn't happen to have a thing for her, would you, Okada-kun?" Shiba said in a teasing voice.

Tamaki blinked, then remembered they were addressing him and went right back into 'Panic Mode.'

"No, no," he vehemently denied. "I told you, I was just curious."

"Well, what other reason would you have to be curious?" Konimi remarked, bringing ramen filled chopsticks to her mouth. "In any case, let me offer you a little advice."

Tamaki had to flinch with every word Konimi said as little bits of half-chewed ramen flew out of her mouth every time she opened it to speak. Thankfully, none of them touched him, but some came very, very close. He still felt rising levels of nausea; he'd never seen a pretty girl do something that made her look so ugly.

If she weren't a commoner, she'd have been reprimanded for this over a hundred times by her manners teacher.

Konimi paused to swallow (and Tamaki inwardly sighed in relief) before going on.

"If you're thinking of going after Haruhi Fujioka, I recommend you forget it. Now."

Tamaki started, taken aback by the harshness of her words and overall demeanor. If he didn't know better, he'd say Konimi had some kind of horrible grudge against Ms. Fujioka. Or maybe he'd been right before and she really wasn't as nice and cute and innocent as he'd thought.

"Misa-chan!" Shiba whined, giving her friend a gentle yet disapproving shove. "You don't have to be so negative."

"Who's being negative?" Konimi shrugged and leaned back in her seat. "Look, Okada, Fujioka is an underclassman, and she's the darling of her grade. She constantly scores at the top of her class in tests, not to mention the love confessions she gets roughly three times a month. You know how many of those she's accepted or even acknowledged?"

Tamaki shook his head, and it was the only part of him that shook voluntarily as he stared at Konimi like a small child watching a scary movie.

Konimi leaned in, her eyes narrowed like she was to tell some grave, horrible secret and her voice came out barely above a whisper.

"None."

Tamaki whimpered in fear, it would be some time before he came to the realization that he may have been overreacting. For their parts, Shiba was chuckling lightly through sips of grape juice while Oshiro, ever the peace maker, glared at Konimi.

"Way to be encouraging," she deadpanned.

Konimi shrugged a second time. "Just telling it like it is."

She took another, very large, bite of food followed by a swig of whatever was in her thermos before glancing at Tamaki again.

"Trust me on this, Okada. You won't get anywhere with Fujioka, so forget it."

Tamaki swallowed involuntarily and dropped his eyes down to his own, half eaten lunch. Conversation between the three girls switched to a date Shiba-san went on recently, and Tamaki effortlessly tuned them out. He slowly finished his rice, chewing methodically while that girl- that Haruhi Fujioka- remained at the center of his thoughts.

In retrospect, I'll admit it's a bit sudden for me to be so captivated by a girl I've only seen twice and never once spoken to. I could lie and say it was just the stress of my situation or some deeply suppressed side of me that desperately wanted companionship, but the truth is, I've always been a silly romantic. Blame my upbringing if you must, but there it is.

No matter what anyone thinks about it, I can't deny how much I want to know more about this Haruhi Fujioka. Konimi's words mean nothing, I'll decide for myself if she's right or not. I just need to find a way to get in contact with Fujioka, but how?

I get the feeling this is going to be difficult.

I wonder what she's doing right now…

Outside in the courtyard, 2nd year students were scattered around the numerous tables and benches. They ate their lunches, chatted with friends, and enjoyed the cool breeze on their faces, dreading the moment the bell would ring, condemning them to another two hours of laborious studies. Among them was thirteen year old Haruhi Fujioka, her nose buried in an enormous history textbook, big enough to keep any hint of the outside world blocked out. This was how she could be found everyday at lunch: quietly studying and not giving any passing students a second glance.

One might expect someone so anti-social to sit alone, but in truth, Haruhi was almost always at a table with those few peers who could accurately be described as her friends. Most of them were similarly quiet people, making light conversation, but mostly just enjoying each other's company. Of course, such things could not truly last without at least one person to initiate activity.

BANG

"Everyone! We have trouble!"

Haruhi blinked, casting a lazy eye at her manic friend standing over the table, the books she'd just slammed on it resting in a disorganized pile between her arms which supported her leaning body. Her three companions also stared, with varying levels of confusion and annoyance at the girl.

"Mei, what's wrong now?" Haruhi's one male friend sighed.

"Sorry, club business," Mei answered, waving a dismissive hand at the brown haired boy. "Anyway, Haruhi, Kasumi and Kohaku! As leader of our illustrious club, I must regretfully issue a state of emergency."

This time, Haruhi fully turned away from her book, mostly so she could raise her eyebrow at Mei more efficiently.

"Wait, you guys have a club?" The boy asked as he reached for his water filled canteen.

Mei rolled her eyes, dropping the 'leader' act and openly glaring at him. "Yes, Arai, we do. What do you think we've been doing every day after school for all these months?"

Arai shrugged. "Wasting time?"

"Exactly! And our daily two and a half hours of time wasting is at serious risk."

"How so?" asked Kasumi, her voice quivering slightly.

"I just spoke to the Vice-Principal, he says our club doesn't follow the appropriate guidelines and we're due to be shut down if we don't fix it."

"Well, what rules are we breaking?" Kohaku spoke, looking up from her newspaper.

Mei pouted, crossing her arms in a childish way as if she wanted to scream to the heavens how unfair everything was. Haruhi had to wonder how much longer it would be before her friend actually did so.

"He says we don't have enough members," the ganguro fumed. "And we need to have at least one upperclassmen in the club! How are we supposed to do that?"

"You could just join another club," was Arai's friendly suggestion. The boy then shrunk back from Mei's penetratingly angry gaze, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "You know… because we're always looking for new members in the gardening club."

"We could invite the new kid!" Kohaku piped up, both staving off Mei's anger and rescuing a grateful Arai from it's clutches.

Mei snapped her head to the side, studying the shorter girl with an analytical eyes. Slowly, her anger faded, replaced by curiosity and wonder.

"The new kid," she repeated. "You mean the one that just transferred into the grade above us? You know him?"

Kohaku shook her head. "Not me, but Akiko-chan does. They're in the same class and she was asked to show him around the campus today."

"Hmmm…" Mei was quickly returning to her 'leader' mode, standing up straighter as she did so. "You haven't seen him at all yourself?"

"I have," Kasumi piped up, raising her hand like a student in class. "I saw him and Kohaku's sister in the hallway before."

"I see," Mei said darkly.

Despite this and the professional way the ganguro carried herself, it was all ruined when she shot across the table, pulling the startled Kasumi close.

"Is he hot?" she demanded. "Is he?Come on, spill!"

"Uh…" Kohaku struggled to maintain her balance with Mei baring down on her. "I- I only saw him for a second. He was okay."

At this, Mei relaxed and backed off Kohaku, to her obvious relief.

"Just okay, huh?"

"Well, he was cute," Kohaku elaborated, looking thoughtful. "He'd probably look better with lighter color hair or something."

"Maybe you should offer him some of your bleach, Mei," Kasumi said jokingly, earning a scowl.

Mei grumbled something, then took a bite of her near forgotten salad before focusing her attention on the only member of her club to not participate in the discussion yet.

"Haruhi," she said, waving a head in the brunette's face. "You in there?"

Haruhi attempted to ignore her, but Mei proved persistent. Eventually, Haruhi had no choice but to lower the book and spare her friend a glance.

"If you want to invite him, go ahead."

Mei started a bit, as if surprised that Haruhi had even paid attention to what was happening around her. She managed to bounce back, declaring that they were on a hunt for the new guy. Anyone who found him was charged with immediately recruiting him into the club. As she picked her book back up and scanned the page for where she left off, Haruhi considered reminding her friend that the new kid would probably want to join a club that actually had club activities. Not to mention the possibility that he'd already found another club to join.

In the end, she kept silent.

"By the way, Okada, what kind of club are you interested in joining?"

The question jarred Tamaki from pleasant thoughts of getting back to his room in his temporary safe house with the lovely view from his bedroom, eating a lovely dinner prepared by Sekigawa-san and, of course, Haruhi Fujioka. He needed a moment to process what had been said to him, but not nearly as long to begin inwardly freaking out at the implications of that statement.

"Okada-kun?" Oshiro said louder.

"Yes!" Tamaki all but shouted, likely concerning his guide even further. "I mean… uh… clubs, you say?"

Oshiro relaxed at this, as if deciding Tamaki was just being quirky and not trying to hide a potentially dangerous secret regarding his true identity and the horrible crisis his family was undergoing. No need to make her suspect that.

"Didn't you read the student handbook?" She asked as they turned a corner. "All students must be part of at least one club or sports team, but can join as many as they like. For example, I'm on the track team and the drama club."

"O-oh," Tamaki could feel the color of his skin fading along with his consciousness. "I see, thank you for telling me."

Oshiro smiled. He might have found it cute were he not currently imaging all the ways Katsuo-san could freak out over this development. The whole point of being in hiding was remaining invisible, after all.

He'd have to join a club without too many obligations. Things like traveling for competitions were definitely out, so sports wasn't an option. Music? Maybe there was something where his piano skills could be used. Then again, any club like that would probably have contests and competitions too. Traveling simply wasn't an option at this time.

"So," Oshiro drove him from his thoughts yet again. "What are you interested in?"

Tamaki looked at her, his mouth hung open wordlessly. He was desperately digging around his hurried mind in search of an acceptable response, when a miracle from heaven saved him.

RING RING

Actually, considering his caller ID read 'Katsuo,' Tamaki couldn't really call it a miracle, much less heavenly.

"Sorry," he hastily called out to Oshiro as he took off down the hall. "I have to take this, just go on without me. I know the way out from here!"

"Are you sure?" Oshiro yelled back, but her question fell on deaf ears.

Tamaki rounded another corner, fumbling with the ringing cell phone. A wide open door slipped into his vision, and getting closer revealed a dark and empty room. Tamaki could have cried in relief, but instead just jumped through the threshold and whipped the cell phone flap open, jamming it into his ear. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and leaned against a desk.

"Good afternoon, Katsuo-san."

Not a hundred feet away, Haruhi was mentally rolling her eyes for the umpteenth time that day. The threat of their 'club' being disbanded was really getting to Mei it seemed.

"Didn't ANY of you see him?" she demanded.

Kohaku and Kasumi shook their heads, but it was Haruhi's lack of attention that really got on Mei's nerves.

"And now the school day is over, who knows if he hasn't already been snatched up by some other club and-"

As usual when Mei was going off on a rant, Haruhi started to tune her out. It wasn't so much that she didn't care about what Mei had say as it was just a desire for some peace and quiet in the few hours she had before she had to get home and make dinner. Haruhi really did agree with Mei on wanting to keep the club going.

There were several ways in which Haruhi was different from her peers, most of which she wasn't completely aware off. One that she did know about, however, was that unlike a lot of her more easy-going classmates, Haruhi knew exactly where she was going in life and how she wanted to get it.

She'd decided years ago, when she was old enough to understand the full ramifications of her mother's death, that she wanted nothing more than to be a lawyer. She wanted to wear those business suits like her mother, work in a legal office like her mother, go to court and argue her case, win as many cases as she could, be every bit the attorney her mother had been and more.

To do that, she couldn't be bothered with club activities and the like, she needed all the study time she could get, and she wasn't into sports, music or art anyway. For those reasons, she'd been more than happy to accept Mei's offer to join her own club several months ago. The thought of losing that, and having to join another club and get a big chunk of her studying time taken away… well, it left a bad taste in her mouth, that was for sure.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Haruhi sighed, low enough for the enraged Mei to miss, but just loud enough for Kasumi to hear, given the knowing smile the latter flashed her.

"Sorry, Mei-chan," Kohaku answered, grinning widely. "I don't know about these two, but I didn't mean to ignore you."

The ganguro raised an eyebrow, glancing at the newspaper clutched tightly in Kohaku's hands as it had probably been all day.

"So what's the latest story?" she said flatly.

As expected, the dripping sarcasm flew over Kohaku's head.

"Oh, not much," she answered, sorting through the messy stack of papers. "Just the usual about the Prime Minister and the economy issues… oh, and the Suoh family too."

"Are people still talking about that?" Kasumi snorted. "I thought that was old news weeks ago."

"It's mostly just speculation on their whereabouts," Kohaku explained, finally getting the papers in order and folding them up. "That and various people's thoughts on what will happen to the company without them. I personally think that-"

"Hey!" Mei cried, placing herself in front of her three fellow members. "This is no time to talk about spoiled rich people. We have our own problems to deal with, right Haruhi?"

Unfortunately for Mei, Haruhi hadn't heard a word of that. She hadn't heard much of Kasumi or Kohaku's conversation either. No, all her attention was on their club room, just two doors away, and the unfamiliar male voice she was just starting to make out inside of it.

Saying nothing, Haruhi moved passed her friends and walked to the door. She stopped just short of walking in and shushed her friends when they tried to question her. Judging from their next moves, Mei heard the voice first while Kohaku and Kasumi heard it last. One by one, the three stood around the door as well, Kasumi being the only one brave enough to seek a peek inside. She jerked her head back out and gasped.

"It's the new guy!"

Mei had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out in excitement. Somehow, she kept herself from outright running into the room. Together, the four of them quietly listened, Haruhi wondering if maybe she shouldn't have done this in the first place. It wasn't exactly polite to listen in on people's phone conversations after all.

"I understand, Katsuo-san," Tamaki was saying. "I'm being very careful."

"This club situation could become a problem. You have to find one that doesn't require much work, or else we may have to take you out of that school and-"

"Don't you think that's a bit drastic?" Tamaki cut his bodyguard off. His control over the volume of his voice was slipping and he knew it. "Joining a club isn't going to reveal my true identity."

"That doesn't change the risks of it," Katsuo was almost robotic in his answers. "You must not draw attention to yourself, that was the whole point of disguising you. If we had our way, you wouldn't be in that school at all. Your father insisted that you not be kept locked up and get to be around kids your own age regardless of their affluence or social standing. We're taking big risks for you, you mustdo as we say in return, understood?"

"Yes sir," the deflated Tamaki answered. "Have you heard from my father?"

Katsuo sighed on the other end.

"You know we won't get a report from him until Friday. Just be content in knowing that he and your grandmother are safe. You needn't worry about anything else."

"Well, of course I do!" Tamaki retaliated. "They're my family, aren't they? No matter where I was raised, I'm a Suoh too."

His heated reply did nothing to faze the stone faced bodyguard, at least nothing that Tamaki could hear over a phone line. It didn't matter, Tamaki had spent the last month and a half being told 'not to worry' and 'just keep quiet' and 'let us handle it' and now he was tired of it. He knew he shouldn't take that frustration out on Katsuo-san, but it wasn't like he had anyone else to talk to about it. He was too scared of Sekigawa-san to yell at her.

"Tamaki-san…" Katsuo trailed off. "Just get home soon or you'll be late for your lessons. We'll talk about the club business later."

"Yes, Katsuo-san," Tamaki said submissively. Already he was feeling terrible for snapping at the man putting his life on the line to keep him safe. Tamaki had no idea when he became such a selfish person, but he didn't like it.

A cold weight settled in his stomach as he returned the phone to his pocket and grabbed his coat. He suddenly realized that he had lied to Oshiro before, he really didn't know the way out of the building. He sighed angrily, this day was just getting better and better. He turned around, trying to force himself not to think of Katsuo-san's serious face or Sekigawa-san's torturous lessons.

He found himself face to face with four girls.

One of them was Fujioka Haruhi.

Thatwas certainly unexpected.

The ticking of the clock seemed to synch up with his heartbeats. Tamaki could hardly distinguish between the two anymore. He could hear blood rushing to his ears, roughly as fast as his growing need to run away and hide in a closet forever.

The girl on the far right, with tan skin and yellow hair Tamaki recognized as 'ganguro style,' was openly gawking at him. The two girls beside her started at him with equally wide eyes, and Haruhi Fujioka merely frowned at him.

The palpable silence was becoming too much. Tamaki had no idea how much of that they'd heard, hopefully nothing. Hopefully, they were all magic fairies and had poofed themselves into the room at the exact moment he'd hung up the phone and therefore had not heard him practically shout the truth about himself to the heavens.

It was a ridiculous thought even for Tamaki, but it was sure better than the alternative.

Without warning, one of the girls stepped forward. Tamaki backed up, his fight or flight instincts kicking into gear far too late.

"Tamaki," she spoke slowly. "Tamaki… Suoh?"

"I thought his name was Okada," one of the other girls whispered to the still stunned ganguro.

The first girl fumbled with a newspaper under her arm and unfolded it in Tamaki's face, revealing a large photo of his solemn faced father taken the day before his self imposed exile.

"You're his son?" the girl asked almost reverently.

Tamaki unconsciously shook his head, unable to speak or even think clearly as the full weight of what he'd done smacked him like a brick. His eyes finally stuck on Haruhi Fujioka. The girl said and did nothing, but tilted her head to the side, utterly adorable wonder written all over her face.

"I-" Tamaki struggled to say something. Anything. "I- I just- I'm not- I-"

Something in his disjointed ramblings must have translated to a 'yes.' The girl's face lit up like a Christmas, the newspaper falling from her hands which proceeding to pull the ganguro and the other girl closer. Haruhi Fujioka remained in the background.

"Oh my god, it's really him!" she cried to her friends. "This is Tamaki Suoh!"

Tamaki prayed the floor would just swallow him up already.

"Wait a second, Kohaku," the second girl said, pulling away from her excitable friend. "Why would a rich kid be at a third rate junior high like this one? Doesn't he have a fancy private school or something?"

Kohaku rolled her eyes. "Kasumi-chan, don't you remember? The Suoh family is facing bankruptcy and public embarrassment, they've been in hiding for over a month!"

At this, Kasumi's eyes went alight with understanding. "Oh, I get it, so this Tamaki kid here must in witness protection or something."

"Which means," the ganguro loudly entered the conversation. "That you're trying to keep your true identity a secret, aren't you, Mr. Suoh?"

Tamaki shrunk back even further, very much not liking the smile on this girl's face as she bared down on him.

"Please," he begged, holding his hands out like a beggar. "You four mustn't tell anyone. It's a matter of life and-"

"Oh, we won't tell," the ganguro interrupted, sounding almost innocent. "We'd never do such a thing."

"Really?" Tamaki asked, hope rising with him.

"Of course not, club members always keep each other's secrets."

Tamaki would have jumped up in the air and cheered and given the ganguro a big hug and kiss on the cheek, but then he worked out exactly what she'd said and deflated instantly.

"Are you confused?" the ganguro asked in sing song, her voice and face darkening. "It's really very simple. See, our club is in danger of being cut. We need a fifth member, one who's a third year student, just like you. You need to join a club AND keep your true identity secret or else face the utter embarrassment and heckling you've been running from. It's only natural then, that you should join our club in exchange for our silence."

"W-what?"

"I'm saying," she firmly stated, standing over Tamaki's fallen from in triumph, staring down at him with eyes like a demon. "That from this day forward, you, Tamaki Suoh, are a member of our club!"

Were this a cartoon or an anime, he imagined the girl would have followed this up with a round of evil laughter. He could almost hear a clap of thunder and scary organ music in the background, but that may have just been his miserable imagination playing cruel tricks on him.

And just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, I've revealed my true identity to a bunch of random girls. Didn't Katsuo-san constantly drill it in my head NOT to do stupid things like this?

Well, at least Haruhi Fujioka seems to be in the club too. This could be a good chance to get to know her for real. I just need to figure out this ganguro girl, but I'm sure it can't be too hard to get on her good side. And it's not like she's TRYING to get me killed, she just doesn't know the full extent of the situation. No one does. She wouldn't be doing this if she knew, right? No one is that cruel.

Right…?

…I really wish you were here, Mother. I don't know if I can handle all this.