"Hold it steady… steady, I said."

"I'm trying."

"Not hard enough, your hand is shaking like a leaf."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"It's still not steady."

"I'm trying!"

"Don't yell at me."

"…right, sorry."

Sigh "Just try to relax, alright? This isn't as hard as it looks."

"Shooting someone isn't hard?"

"I'm talking about keeping your arm still. We'll get to the actual shooting later."

"…"

Okay, so some might think this situation I've gotten myself into is doomed to become a giant mess. To recap: I've been forced into hiding under an assumed name while my family faces public ridicule and near constant threats from some very bad people. I am alone in a commoner school, which admittedly was something of a plus, but then I had to go and give away my identity and getting kidnapped into these girls' club! How could I be so stupid?

Stupid, stupid, STUPID!

Oh, how I wish I could just disappear and avoid the embarrassment of facing Katsuo-san again. He can't find out about this, that much is certain. If he knew I did this after all the work him and his colleagues have put into protecting me, he'd have me out of this school in a heartbeat and then I really would be all alone! I couldn't bear that.

I 'll just have to go along with this for now. And who knows, I may begin to enjoy this club. I even get to hang around with Haruhi Fujioka every day! I just wish I knew what kind of club this is. They don't seem like the sport type, these girls. Perhaps it's art related? Maybe they're one of those pop music clubs I've heard about that plays concerts at school events and the like, I hope they don't expect me to do anything like that. Maybe I could be their manager or something, a behind the scenes member of sorts. Yeah, this could be really fun for me. For all of us.

It's going to be great, I'm sure of it!

For the second time in only a day, Tamaki found himself seated in an uncomfortable chair (made from cheap plastic, he'd wager), twiddling his thumbs as he looked around awkwardly at his so-called 'Club mates.'

The ganguro, who'd given her name as Mei, was in the corner, draped over an unused desk and reading a fashion magazine. She held a pink pen between her lips and turned the pages at a slow, yet steady rate. Every now and then, she'd take the pen and circle something, murmuring a tiny 'a-ha' to herself and grinning a fox like grin.

Kasumi, a fairly tall girl with bob cut black hair and narrow brown eyes, was currently involved in a heated death match against an ant crawling around her desk. With her chin resting on the hardwood, she followed it intently, a pencil hovering over it's head. Occasionally, she would drop it in the ant's path, causing it to change course and scamper away. She mostly did this whenever the insect was about to crawl off the desktop and out of her view.

Kohaku had been reading the newspaper for over and hour now. Unlike most people Tamaki knew, who mainly skimmed articles and looked at the pictures, Kohaku was taking in every word, committing them to memory with a diligent many politicians didn't seem to have. However, when Tamaki's attention was on something else, he'd sometimes get a funny feeling like he was being watched, and he'd turn around to find Kohaku's dark brown eyes on him. Though she immediately looked away upon being caught, she did it several more times and it was beginning to creep Tamaki out that she wouldn't say why.

And finally, there was Haruhi. Tamaki had tried to make it as inconspicuous as possible when he took a seat beside her. So far, she hadn't acknowledged his presence in the slightest, her nose in either her history textbook or the loose-leaf paper she took detailed notes on. Tamaki was amazed when he saw that and also oddly happy. He should have known Haruhi would be a smart girl. It just seemed so right for her. As far as he knew, anyway.

Really, he didn't quite understand yet what made Haruhi stand out to him. At first glance, she wasn't really that different from the other girls he'd seen so far. She wore the standard school uniform, her long hair was styled in a common way, she didn't have an amazing body, and most of all, she didn't do anything to stand out. It was as if she wanted to appear as average as possible, and she was sure doing a good job of that.

But there was something else, Tamaki realized, something about her that was different, that was unique. Something you'd have to dig deeper to find and understand. Perhaps she had a way of seeing the world that wasn't quite like everyone else, or maybe she was an independent spirit who didn't want to be grounded for fear of losing her sense of self. Perhaps the little confused face she'd made when Tamaki first saw her was so adorable that the image had been forever ingrained in his skull, leaving him permanently drawn to her. A combination of all three was also a possibility.

All it really meant was that Haruhi Fujioka was someone he wanted to call a friend, and it had been his hope that he could use this club thing to accomplish that. The key word being 'had.'

By the time the clock struck four, marking the halfway period between club hours starting and stopping, nobody had moved, no words had been spoken, and they'd certainly done nothing resembling a club activity. Tamaki knew he couldn't just sat back anymore. Straightening up in his seat, he turned to Mei, the supposed President of this club, and cleared his throat.

"So what kind of club is this?" he asked. "I don't believe I was ever told."

Mei chewed the already bite mark covered pencil cap, deep in thought over what looked like a row of skirts on sale for half off, assuming he was seeing correctly from his vantage point. Mei didn't say a word or move a muscle, as if Tamaki's words went in one ear and out the other. Not one to be deterred, Tamaki opted to try again.

"Mei-san, excuse me?" he said a little louder. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah," she finally answered. Tamaki was only half expecting it, and sat dumb for a moment.

"I was just wondering if we were going to do any club activities," he explained. "And what exactly they might entail-"

"No."

Tamaki blinked. "No? I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"What's to understand?" Mei asked, still not looking up from that magazine of hers. "No means no in France, doesn't it?"

"SHHH!" Tamaki shot up, frantically waving at the girl and getting her to look up at him at last. "I told you not to say anything!"

Mei's response was to roll her eyes, which provided little comfort for Tamaki. Sensing the growing panic, Kasumi clicked her tongue sat up. She glanced out at the window on the door which revealed a deserted hallway.

"Relax, S- Okada-kun," she coughed, looking away from Tamaki's long face. "There is no one around. All the clubs take place either outside or on the other end of the building."

Though her slip up was still ringing in his ears, Tamaki felt a little calmer with her reassurance and genuine smile. He took a deep breath.

"Really?"

"Absolutely," was Kasumi's answer. "No clubs ever take place around here except ours. In fact, this isn't even an official club room. But no one has stopped us using it yet, so here we are."

Tamaki gave her a blank stare, the flippancy she displayed at what he was pretty sure violated some kind of school rule astounded him. Armed with this new knowledge and the implications therein, he looked again at Mei, who had returned to her magazine and was muttering something about charging too much for sandals.

"Is this even an actual club?" he asked, strongly believing that he wasn't going to like the answer.

Mei froze, her hand in mid page turn as she glanced at him through a lowered brow.

"Of course it is," she answered curtly.

"But you don't do anything," Tamaki argued back.

"Well, yeah," Mei said with a shrug, leaning back against the wall and propping her feet up on an unused desk. Kasumi groaned audibly at this. "See, I've always believed this 'you must be in a club' rule is really stupid. Not everyone wants to join a club, and more importantly, not everyone can." Mei paused to grab her magazine and opened it to a marked page. "See, clubs are for people with certain talents that they like to let flourish. The kids who can sing join the choir, the kids who can paint join the art club, the kids who can throw a ball around and body tackle people join a sports team. See how it works?"

Tamaki nodded, not really sure where Mei was going with this.

"Not everyone is like that," she went on. "Some people don't have any talents or special interests. Some people just like to spend all their free time sleeping, watching TV and staring at the wall in the comfort of their own home. Since that's not an option, we made this club! For people with no special talents or hobbies and no desire to join any clubs, like me and Haruhi and Kasumi and… well, actually Kohaku used to be in the politics club, but they kicked her out for fighting."

"I was not fighting," Kohaku declared almost robotically without even looking up from her reading. Tamaki was amazed she'd even heard them.

"You threw two books at the club president's head," Kasumi said flatly.

"Okay," Kohaku cried, throwing aside the newspaper in a huff and standing. "First of all, it was only one book that just so happened to be split into two volumes. Second, I was aiming in her general direction, but I didn't even come close to hitting her, that damn liberal crybaby. I can't believe she got me in trouble like that!"

"Well, gee, maybe it's because you threw two books at her," Kasumi repeated, leaning over in her seat.

As the girls began arguing, Mei stood and dragged herself over with a groan. Her eyes unable to draw away from her magazine as if it were the holy grail she was leaving behind in a cave in the desert. Along the way, though, she stopped at Tamaki and flashed him a smile.

"When you think about it, this club is perfect for you," she said. "Isn't it the point of being in hiding that no one notices you?"

She left before Tamaki could answer, not that he would have anyway. He knew that there was no arguing with that logic, this… club that wasn't a club really was the best thing that could have happened to him, all things considered. As long as he could keep the girls from exposing him to Katsuo or his family's enemies (he wasn't sure which would be worse), everything would be okay. And there was, of course, that one other little perk he was forgetting.

Haruhi, strangely enough, hadn't looked up even once in the growing commotion (Mei's attempts to stop the other girl's fight didn't appear to be going very well). She still had her nose in that green and white textbook, concentrating hard on the lessons it taught. Her head was titled ever so slightly to one side and her lips were parted. Her eyes were wide open, but every now and then she would blink. She looked so adorable, Tamaki was sure he'd grab her and hug the life out of her at any moment.

He ignored that impulse, despite the impressive strength of it, and instead focused on what she was doing, with the hope of finding something to use as a conversation starter. He noted the way her hair fell loose to her lower back, brushed out and straight as a stick. It looked soft, like she took care of it well. He decided that that, along with her eyes, was probably her best feature.

"You have the most lovely hair, Fujioka-san," he said, smiling warmly at her. "It compliments your lovely face so well."

She said nothing, but Tamaki was already on a roll and hadn't quite realized this yet.

"I see that you study a lot, you must have a great dream you're trying to reach. I'm sure you will succeed in whatever you choose to do, for I believe good things always come to beautiful girls with kind hearts like the one I know you must possess, my dear."

He rambled on and on about this and that, going from one compliment to another at top speed. And yet throughout it all, Haruhi Fujioka never so much as glanced in his direction. It was disquieting, and not even Tamaki was so dense that he didn't notice it eventually. Luckily for him, it was around the time that he figured this out that Haruhi suddenly lifted her head and looked at him with those big, cute eyes of hers.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Where you saying something, Senpai?"

Tamaki's mouth hung open mid-sentence, he couldn't even remember what he'd been talking about. Haruhi waited patiently for an answer, but Tamaki's brain needed time to reboot, and she was close to returning to her reading when he suddenly coughed and forced something out.

"No, I- I was just saying that you have nice hair," he weakly explained. "It's very pretty."

"Oh," she answered with a casual nod. "Thanks."

Tamaki grinned, joy welling up inside of him at breaking through this first wall between him and Haruhi developing a friendship. From there, things should be much easier. Soon, she would see him for the refined, handsome gentlemen he truly was underneath the plain face he'd been forced to wear. She'd look at him with admiration and a deep sense of trust that he would always be there as her friend. Yes, what a wonderful day that would be.

While he was off in his own world, Haruhi was examining his dopey grin, her lips pursed. She raised her hand in a tiny gesture.

"You have a little bit of noodle stuck in your teeth," she said.

She then went back to her book, getting lost in throes of homework and not seeing Tamaki's body tense up, nor his head dropping in a combination of utter shame and humiliation.

"Mei-san, may I please have a bathroom break?" he asked while raising a miserable hand half heartedly into the air.

Tamaki was still feeling like a mess of a failure later on at his nightly language tutoring sessions. Sekigawa-san, a petite, chubby woman in her late fifties who dressed in 'Western secretary' clothes (as Katsuo-san had dubbed them) and wore an oversized pair of glasses that came close to completely taking up all of her small head and made her eyes bug out in a way that would put Moe anime characters to shame. Her graying auburn hair was pulled back in a bun so tight it made the skin of her forehead flake. At the moment, she was writing something, likely grading his last pop quiz or coming up with new essay topics. Tamaki felt his writing hand cramp from the mere thought of the 20 page assignments she gave him bi-weekly.

Pushing it from his mind, Tamaki lowered his head to the verb sheet and read over it carefully, slowly repeating each word in his head and mouthing along with it, trying to wrap his mind around the advanced Japanese phrases and not think about school and his peers and the club and everything else in his life that was going downhill fast.

"Is anything wrong?"

Tamaki shot up. He found Sekigawa-san now staring at him with those massive bug eyes of hers and not a hint of emotion anywhere.

"Huh?" he asked dumbly. "Oh. No, Sekigawa-san, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" she pressed, placing her fountain pen on the table and lacing her fingers together. "Because you can tell me if something is wrong. I know Katsuo-san isn't one for heart to hearts."

"It's alright, really," Tamaki answered, putting on a practiced smile. "I'm just thinking about school and some new friends I made. That's all."

"Ah, I see," Sekigawa nodded. "You're having school troubles."

Tamaki's fingers and toes curled. 'I never said anything about troubles.'

"Don't worry, Suoh-san," the bookish woman said, her big red lips lifting upwards. "It's only your first day, after all. I'm sure as time goes on, you'll get the hang of it. This may be a different world than what you're used to, but when it comes right down to it, it's mostly the same."

"Oh…" Tamaki whispered, his fears beginning to slowly dissipate as Sekigawa's kind words reached his ears.

"Pretty soon you won't be bothered anymore by the awful cafeteria food and the lowlife bullies who will beat you up and steal your money, not to mention the hierarchy of popular kids who torment all the so-called 'nerds,' which now that I think about it, likely includes new students such as yourself. As far as I know, the usual M.O. is shoving heads in toilets, getting stuffed into lockers, general ridicule everywhere you look with every little flaw they can sense being picked apart and over-exaggerated to the point that you begin to feel like a miserable excuse for a human being and lapse into a state of deep depression while they sit back and watch their hard work bear fruit with big, ugly smiles on their faces. Other than that, you'll be just fine!"

By now, Tamaki had sunk so low is his chair, he wasn't even visible over the table anymore. Sekigawa either didn't notice, or didn't care as he lay there in a chalk white heap of anguish and remained as such until the hour was up and the lesson concluded.

"Be sure to practice your verbs and adjectives, there'll be a quiz tomorrow," were Sekigawa's final words as she gathered her things and adjourned to her room for the night.

Tamaki picked himself up, though he was still reeling from the ideas his well-meaning teacher had planted in his head. Kurosawa came to mind, baring down on him with a crazed grin that spoke of evil intent. His two friends flanked him on both sides, laughing like maniacs and cheering their friend/boss on. The sky turned blood red and fire shot out from the ground, completing the horrific image and bringing Tamaki close to a blood curdling scream.

When Katsuo-san, a tall, muscular man in a clean, crisp suit and whose black hair was crew cut over hard brown eyes, entered the room looking for him, Tamaki was in the far corner, whimpering in fear. The large man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He then walked over and grabbed Tamaki by the collar, pulling the unprepared teenager to his feet with an unsympathetic tug.

"What are you doing?" he asked, but raised his hand when Tamaki opened his mouth. "Never mind, I don't want to know. Just get to bed, it's almost ten and you have school tomorrow."

Tamaki's insides jerked unpleasantly at the dreaded 'S' word being spoken aloud.

"Okay, thank you Katsuo-san," he droned, ambling around his bodyguard and out the door, only to be stopped when a beefy hand wrapped around his wrist. He turned his head. "Yes?"

"We have to re-dye your hair in the morning before you leave," Katsuo-san said, looking over his head rather than at his eyes. "I can see blonde roots. Wake up an hour earlier, understood?"

Tamaki bit his lip, his fingers twitching as he got the sudden urge to run his fingers through his hair and see if he found inky black on them afterwards. The thought of yet another sixty minutes staring at his black head was not a pleasant one. It was as if both Katsuo-san and Sekigawa-san were doing everything in their power to keep him reminded of how utterly hopeless this situation was. If he stayed as Tamaki Okada, he might never see his family again and be stuck in the life of a poor man. If he went public as Tamaki Suoh, his life was at risk. It was a loss for him no matter what.

Defeated, Tamaki gave a sigh and nodded.

"I understand, Katsuo-san," he said softly after a long pause.

"We're also going back to the shooting range over the weekend," Katsuo-san stated. "You need more target practice."

"Yes, sir."

With that, Katsuo was finally satisfied, although Tamaki felt worse than he had in a long time. He went to his room like a sleepwalker, opened the door and stepped inside. Though he had only lived in the 2nd Suoh estate for a week before this all started, he could remember the magnificent room he had been given well. That room expanded across a length of three regular sized ones and the walls and carpet were in pristine condition. The bed was like a cloud and smelled of fabric softener. He had the best sleep of his life on that bed. The massive windows facing him gave him a perfect view of the expansive world around him, and how bright and beautiful it was every sunny morning when he first opened his eyes.

His new room was roughly the size of a large walk in closet. The beige paint was peeling at the cobweb covered corners and the carpet's rough material scratched unpleasantly against his feet whenever he walked barefoot. The bed was soft enough, but only if he stayed near the edge, as there appeared to be a spring loose on the far end that made it sag uncomfortably. The only window was a small, rectangular space too high on the wall for him to look out unless he stood on a chair. The one time he tried, Tamaki found an enormous spider running across it and his screaming could be heard from next door.

Tamaki flopped down on the bed, ignoring the awful creaking sound it made and shoved his face into a pillow, wanting nothing more than to lay like that until he suffocated. Unconsciously, he reached underneath it, feeling around until he struck gold. Out came a single photograph, a tiny rip on the corner from when he'd hastily pulled it out of the frame the day he'd been forced to leave the Suoh estate. He gazed at the beautiful face of his mother, how happy and bright she looked, a far cry from the sickly, solemn woman he'd left behind in France. Her arms were wrapped around his ten year old self, who wore an equally happy grin and held Kuma-chan tight in his arms. Everything about the picture made Tamaki's heart ache. What's worse, he didn't even have a picture of his fahter to go with it.

Tamaki's hand went limp and he rolled over in bed to face the wall. He could only see the black night sky out the window from this position, and it fit his mood perfectly.

It's on nights like this that I miss my mother most of all. She raised me, you see, and she has been suffering from a serious illness for years now. It wasn't a huge problem at first, but when her families' once prosperous company went bankrupt, I knew things were never going to be easy for us again. We had to fire all of our staff, some of whom had been with us for years. Mother sold a lot of her favorite designer clothes and jewelry, all but one of our cars had to be let go of, we basically did whatever we could to make ends meet. That's where my Grandmother came in.

She never liked me, and I know she doesn't like mother even more. My parents are unmarried, but very much in love with each other, I assure you. My grandmother would have none of it, so my parents couldn't be together as they wanted to. Grandmother made an offer I couldn't in good conscience refuse, even if the cost of going through with it was a great one. I was to live in Japan with grandmother and my father, and be the potential heir to the Suoh family. My mother would be cared for and her bills paid by Grandmother. The only stipulation was that I could never see or talk to my mother again. It was the hardest decision I've ever had to make, but in the end, I knew I had to do it. Mother needed care and medicine that I couldn't provide her, she needed help that I couldn't give. The only option in the end was to place her in the hands of someone who could, and someone who I know will never see me as more than a mistake.

It doesn't bother me, though. No matter what, I know my grandmother is a good person deep down inside. She may never love me like a grandmother should, but I refuse to believe that she is heartless. I sometimes wonder how she's taking all this and I wish she would talk to me on my weekly phone calls with father. It's not like I'll be seeing either of them any time soon. I pray for their safety along with that of my mother. Come to think about it, does mother even know about this? Did Grandmother tell her, or did she hear about it in the newspapers and gossip rags just like the rest of the world? Surely Grandmother told her, or at least had someone make the call. It doesn't really matter how she finds out, of course. This is still probably a huge blow to her health, worrying so much about father and me. How she must be feeling right now…

I don't want to think about it.

I don't think I've ever felt this awful in my entire life. My one wish is that tomorrow will be a better day, one that will bring the promise of future happiness, strong friendships, and most importantly, proof that Sekigawa-san really has been watching too many foreign teen dramas like Katsuo-san says and that I shouldn't take anything she says non-lesson related seriously.

Tamaki sat at his desk beside Oshiro's, who had yet to arrive, and tried to concentrate on re-checking his homework one final time. Several of his classmates had already arrived, including Kurosawa, who was pointedly ignoring him from his seat in the back of the class. Tamaki couldn't say he was disappointed by this.

He had been feeling a little better thanks to a good night's sleep, but after a morning of hair dye and conditioner, the weight of everything was beginning to cripple him again. Sighing, he finished reading the final page and shuffled through the papers, wanting them neat and back in their proper order before the first bell rang. Other students came through the door every now and then. It was not uncommon for Tamaki to see a pair of dark blue pants or a skirt in his line of vision every couple of minutes. Then one of the latter stopped right in front of him.

"Good morning, Okada-kun!" a cheerful voice said.

Tamaki looked up, half-expecting it to be Oshiro even though the voice didn't match. He found himself staring at another, less familiar girl with shoulder length, curly hair and bright green eyes that sparkled, fitting perfectly with her wide, cheery grin.

"Oh, Shiba-san," Tamaki said, suddenly remembering her from lunch the day before. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she answered, bringing a hand to her head and swirling a piece of hair around her finger. "I got my hair done yesterday, do you like it?"

Tamaki blinked, for a split second unsure what to make of this out of the blue question. He had no idea what had prompted it, he didn't think him and Shiba-san had made any sort of connection the day before. But her happy face, that made her look so pretty, reminded him of everything he'd ever been taught about talking to young ladies.

"It looks lovely," he said, taking her hand in his. "It accentuates your natural beauty so well, Shiba-san."

The young woman's face turned bright red and she looked away, giggling to herself.

"That's so sweet of you to say, Okada-kun."

The five minute bell rang at that moment, and Shiba high tailed it to her seat, still blushing and sighing the entire way. Tamaki felt rather good himself all of a suden, his worries starting to fade away little by little. With the smile he'd put on Shiba-san's face, he was reminded that he could be intergrated into this commoner society. All he had to good was be himself, and surely no one would find reason to put his head in a toilet. The rest of his classmates began filing into the room, ready for another slow day of learning. Tamaki was sure to greet each and every one of them, even though he didn't know all their names yet. He did see a few people he knew, including Konimi, who merely nodded when he said hello to her.

Oshiro was one of the last to enter, school bag in hand. Before Tamaki could even open his mouth she was waving at him.

"Good morning, Okada-kun," she said.

"Good morning, Oshiro," Tamaki answered. "You're looking lovely today."

Like Shiba-san, Oshiro's face reddened, though not nearly as much.

"It looks like you've gained some confidence," she said as she unpacked her school supplies. "I'm so glad. You seemed so nervous yesterday."

"I was," Tamaki admitted. "It's hard moving away from my home. I guess I'm still getting used to it."

"It'll get easier," Oshiro said, reassuringly. "I've never had to move myself, but I've had several friends who did, and it was always hard for both of us. But no matter what, thing's can always get better."

Tamaki nodded, not wanting to go any further with this line of conversation for fear of dredging up more unhappy thoughts. He'd had quite enough of those for one lifetime.

"Yes, and I believe it will," he said after a pause. "Especially if there are sweet, kind hearted people like you around."

"Aw, you're so sweet," Oshiro answered, her blush returning with a vengeance.

The two of them conversed lightly until the teacher arrived and called the class to order. From there, Tamaki dilligently listened to the day's lecture and thought to himself how wrong Sekigawa-san had been about this school and the people he'd meet. They were all so nice and friendly!

He was completely oblivious to the large figure in the very back of the room, glowering at him from the start of the class to the very end.

Tamaki left the room as soon as the lunch bell rang, politely excusing himself to Oshiro and heading out to find his club mates. He felt an involuntary degree of anxiety, the ramifications of his mistake should one of them let something slip were well known to him. He trusted them to keep quiet, however foolish that may be, but he didn't want to take any chances. Thankfully, that was the only thing he had to worry about at the moment.

He was on his way to the courtyard, where he knew the girls usually took their lunch, when something latched onto his plain white shirt and hurled him into a locker. Tamaki groaned in pain as a combination lock dug into his lower back. Forcing one eye open, Tamaki found himself face to face with an irate Kurosawa. With his teeth baring and his brow furrowed in a hard scowl, it reminded Tamaki very much of a documentary he had watched in Primary School about the predators of the jungle and how they stalked their prey.

"I saw you flirting with Oshiro," Kurosawa's deep voice rumbled.

"W-what?"

Kurosawa slammed him against the locker a second time. Tamaki's head was thrown back and struck the smooth metal, leaving him momentarily disoriented.

"Don't play stupid with me, Okada," Kurosawa said. "I saw you, and I'm telling you to stop now. If I ever see you talking to her again, you're going to be spending the rest of your life in traction. Got it?"

Tamaki nodded furiously. His ability to talk having abandoned him, not to return even when Kurosawa dropped him and stalked away, leaving a parting glare behind to remind Tamaki of their 'discussion.' Nobody who walked by said a word to him, few even looked in his direction. Eventually, Tamaki regained himself enough to stand and continue on shaking legs towards the courtyard, his back and head throbbing in both physical and metaphorical pain the entire way there.

A/N: Chapter two is here! Merry Christmas/Happy Haunakah/Happy Kwanza/Happy Holidays!

Not much to say about this one. It's a little slow, I know, but things will start to pick up around chapter 4. So if you can bear with me until then? XD