I'm really sorry for Tamaki in this chapter.

Thank you so much for the greatest thing that has ever happened on one of my stories; I got so much praise for this AND I don't know why! So thank you to Plexi Pink for the favorite, MISCharacter for a follow, Chubaholic for the follow and favorite, and reflectioncat for following! Additionally, reflectioncat has been reading my stories since Ouran Infiltrated, so double thanks!

Enjoy, despite everything.

I tuck my earbuds in my ears and drop my phone in my back pocket. It's empty here, and I can only stare at myself in the polished glass.

It's club time, and I'm sure the host club is looking for me since I'm blatantly skipping out on whatever duties they expect me to do, but I had to come. I had to roll up my sleeves and loosen my tie and pull up my slacks to look at my fake leg in the mirrors. I had to hear Winter Winds by Chopin floating in one ear and out the other.

Will it make any difference if they help?

Two weeks and five days ago, my family was driving to a reboot of Swan Lake. The ballet was the most highly anticipated theater performance since some super-famous actress played Esmeralda in The Phantom of the Opera a few years ago. And I was going to dance the male lead.

My understudy went on in my place, and is getting an astonishing amount of press already.

Will I ever get another chance to dance like I could before the accident? Will I ever get a part with a missing leg?

The music changes, and a song from the original Swan Lake play, one that they had decided to keep in the reboot, begins. I angrily turn my phone off and the music cuts off.

"I thought I'd find you here." I let out a surprised squeak and quickly roll my slacks back down. I meet his eyes in the mirror and sigh.

"I'm sorry, Tamaki-san, I-"

"It's okay," he cuts me off gently with that sunny smile. "Something's bothering you."

"I was going to dance the lead in Swan Lake," I admit sadly, my voice heavy.

He is silent for a moment, his eyes bright and wide, until he finally says, "Do you want to show me?"

"I can't," I protest, just as softly and sadly, my heart dropping with my words.

"I think you can." He steps closer and takes my hand. His fingers are warm and soft, just like the rest of him. "Let's go, Nao-chan."

He only lets go of my hand when we reach the doors to Music Room 3.

_.-X-._

"A protegè?" A young lady mimics in her sweet, girlish voice.

"Yes, Princess," Tamaki confirms, waving me over. "This is Naoki Mai, the host club's newest apprentice."

I set my tray on the table and bow to her, my glasses sliding down my nose. "It's a pleasure to meet you, miss." I refill her teacup and depart.

This is easier than I thought it would be. Though, I have been on my feet for an hour and the rubber seal on my leg is starting to ache. I set my tray down again on an unused table and brush my hand over the seam between rubber and flesh. It burns like fire; surprised, I hiss through my teeth and flinch away.

My hip jolts into the table, and the tray clatters, teacups and saucers and a whole pot of fresh, hot tea spills over the dark wood. A heavy vase of roses spills over, water and tea and petals and shards of glass raining over the side of the table. I yelp in surprise.

I spin around quickly. Dozens of eyes, both host and guest, stare at me. Quietly, speedily, Mori, hands in his pockets, walks steadily up to me, Honey on his heels.

"I- I'm so sorry!" I break the silence, tripping over my words.

"Are you okay?" He answers in his dark chocolate voice.

I nod, lying. He looks at me for a tense moment until I clear my throat and busy myself cleaning up the shards of wet ceramic from the tile floor. The screws in the knee are far too tight and I can't quite bend it all the way, so my left leg stays stretched out awkwardly. My hands shake and the ceramic slips out of my unsteady grip.

I can still feel mocking gazes on my back, even though I know everyone has turned back to their conversations by now. The leg holding all my weight starts to tremble. I know I used to be stronger, but two weeks out of practice has mangled my body. Finally, it gives way and I push my hands out to stop myself.

Shards of delicate glass and heavy ceramic pierce my skin, stinging with hot tea and flower water. I cry out wordlessly.

Fingers wrap around my wrists and pull me to my feet. I sway. Heat flushes up my throat and I swallow with difficulty.

"Nao-chan, are you okay?"

"No," I murmur, twisting my hands away and avoiding his eyes. "I'll clean it up when I get back."

Pulling shards of glass from my hands and shards of my pride from the floor, I limp as quickly as I can from the music room. The clock is ticking soundly, and I almost, almost, cry when I push open the school ground gates and gingerly take out my phone to call my ride home.