DISCLAIMER: I do not own Ouran Highschool Host Club or any of its affiliated characters, symbols, etc.
"Ama-chaaaan! Where are you~?" the blond child sang across the now empty outdoor training grounds as the sun kissed the edge of the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold.
"O-over here…" sniffed another child's voice from behind a nearby tree. The small, dark-haired girl quickly wiped her tears away with her sleeve before her friends could see her crying. The cheerful blond boy danced over to the tree, a slightly taller, dark-haired boy following close behind.
"H-hey Mitsukuni-kun, T-Takashi-kun…" the girl mumbled, fighting back the tears welling up in her eyes.
"Amaya-chan, what's wrong?" the blond taller boy remained quiet, but clear concern was reflected in his dark eyes.
"I… My family is moving to the countryside tomorrow… I… I'm scared! What if I can't make any friends? What if… What if I never see you two again…?" Amaya whispered softly, a few fat tear drops rolling down her cheeks despite her best efforts to contain them. "You two are my best friends… I can't stand the thought of losing you…"
Honey watched her thoughtfully for a moment, then glanced long enough to see they were thinking the same both knelt down beside her, and Honey offered up his pinky finger. Amaya gave him a questioning look, her green eyes clouded with confusion.
"Promise me," he said solemnly, "that you will call, email, or write everyday. Promise me that we will always keep in touch, and that we will meet again one day."
Amaya smiled, confusion replaced with understanding as she wrapped her pinky finger around his. "I promise," she vowed, "that we will always be friends."
"Promise me?" the tall boy spoke up, his slightly monotone voice tinted with the fear that she might not.
She smiled once more, and held her pinky out to him. "Of course. I promise you all that I promised Mitsukuni." He smiled, warmed by her acceptance as he reached out to wrap his finger around hers.
"And I promise to never make you cry. I promise to always be there for you."
Amaya wrapped her arms around her two best friends in a brief hug, the last bit of sunlight quickly fading behind the trees in the distance. Somewhere, their nannies were calling for them. The trio linked arms, Amaya in the middle, and strode slowly and solemnly towards the entrance, cherishing their last few moments together before being separated for what they all felt would be a long, long time.
*~Eight Years Later~*
Amaya Yamakawa hesitated in front of the door to the Third Music Room, doubts swimming in her head. 'What if they don't recognize me? What if I don't recognize them? I sure hope this is the right room…' she thought silently as she gently pushed open the door. Suddenly, rose petals fluttered around her as she was blinded by an intense white light, and seven silhouettes welcomed her in harmonious unison. She shielded her eyes for a moment, waiting for the figures to come into focus. She recognized her two childhood friends instantly.
"Ama-chan?" Honey asked in his childlike voice. Amaya nodded, slightly stunned.
"AMA-CHAAAN~!" he cheered, tackle-hugging his childhood friend.
"M-Mitsukuni? You haven't changed! Like… At all!" she cried in disbelief, returning his hug hesitantly. Honey seemed oblivious.
"Ama-chan, you're so pretty now! I mean, not that you weren't before, but now you're super, super pretty!" he babbled. Amaya giggled, embarassment lending a pink hue to her cheeks.
While she wouldn't call herself "super pretty", she had grown into herself, more or less. Her soft raven curls fell just past her shoulder blades, her jade green eyes hooded with thick black lashes. She wasn't particularly tall, standing at roughly 5' 4", and years of vigorous martial arts training had left her with a fairly athletic build. The pale green tunic top she wore gave the illusion that she had a few more curves than she actually did, while the thin dark brown belt around her waist, dark blue denim jeans, and black high-heeled boots helped to balance out that illusion.
"Thank you, Mitsukuni-kun…" she mumbled shyly, ruffling his hair before looking to Mori. "Takashi…" she said, groping for words. What do you say to a person you haven't seen for eight years - particularly when that person still knows you better than anyone else in the world?
Then their eyes locked, and for all the world she felt as though every secret they had ever kept, every promise they had made, every laugh and every ache they had shared - in childhood and in countless letters - passed between them. And she knew she didn't have to say anything impressive. He probably already knew what she would say if she had the words.
"…It's good to see you again."