I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of any thing than of a book!
- Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen

Book in hand, Natsumi slipped out the back door and scurried down the garden path, hoping she'd gone far enough for the foliage to shield her from view. She wasn't trying to hide or anything – it was just a lovely morning and the trees back behind the dojos looked inviting. It would be relaxing to while away the day reading up in the branches, that's all.

"Anata, have you seen Natsumi-chan?" trilled a high-pitched soprano from the west wing, "I wanted to take her shopping. Only one suitcase, can you believe it? A teenage girl needs more clothes than that."

Shit. Natsumi ducked behind a flowering Japanese quince. Okay, so she was hiding. She had to, the family was just so damn… nice! It was self-defense.

They all acted as if they were genuinely excited about her being there - well, except for her taciturn groom who mostly pretended he wasn't surreptitiously checking her out - and they just wouldn't leave her alone. Last night, even though she'd pleaded fatigue, the mother had managed to guilt her down to dinner anyway, turning her every excuse against her in some advanced form of verbal Jiu-Jitsu. Next, the father had spent the entire meal telling story after story about his and Ryuu's college days. And then they'd gone and celebrated her birthday.

Her birthday!

The last person to do that had been a house mother who felt sorry for the foreign kid stuck at school between terms. She'd been ten.

It didn't make any sense. They were rich enough that they had to have done a background check and, no matter who her father was to them, she shouldn't have been let past the front gate. That they might know everything and still want her as a daughter-in-law was too terrifying to even contemplate.

Because, sooner or later, she was going to screw it up.

It wasn't like she had tried to be expelled from thirteen schools in three years. At least six or seven of them had been tolerable, two more had been places she'd wanted to stay. But somehow, even if she tried to behave, she soon found herself doing something that had her unceremoniously dumped on a train, plane, or car ride to somewhere else. As welcoming as the Morinozukas seemed, she had to keep her distance. Because whoever had said 'it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all' was an idiot. It was far, far better not to get attached in the first place.

"No, I haven't," Akira answered his wife as Natsumi cowered behind a bush, "I'm sure she's around somewhere. Perhaps, she just needs some time to herself for a bit. Finding out you've been engaged for sixteen years without realizing it is a lot to process."

"I suppose." Kazumi sounded like a little kid denied a cookie. "It's just so nice to have someone around the place who doesn't dress in track suits and smell of the dojo." Natsumi's eyes were drawn down to the plain white t-shirt and black school running shorts she'd thrown on. Not exactly a track suit, but… The soft thud of someone dropping into seiza was accompanied by a loud, dramatic sigh. "Ah! Every time I think of it, I just get so angry. It was bad enough that man didn't let her visit, but not to have even told her…"

"Kazu-chan…" The endearment held a note of rebuke.

"Oh, I know. I know – I shouldn't speak ill of Takashi's in-laws, but really!" Determining the elder Morinozukas were occupied, Natsumi started to sneak away. "I even invited her mother over for tea this weekend and was told by a servant that she wasn't available. A servant! You'd think we were beggars the way they act."

Mama? They'd been in touch with her mama? Natsumi froze in her tracks, desperate to hear more. None of her letters, none of her calls had been answered since the day a maid had put her on the plane to Switzerland. Any word of how her mother and brother were doing was yet another piece of information withheld by her grandfather.

Akira grunted. "Maeda Tatsuo is stubborn, inflexible, and thinks his family still holds the prominence it did under Tokugawa. The only thing he wants from us is our name. Our lineage. Since the engagement contract is signed, he sees no reason to act towards us with more than the most basic civility. And the only thing Shizuko-chan ever defied her father over was Ryuu-kun."

"Hmph! It's just not right - no matter how much you try to explain it to me." Another exaggerated sigh. "I've been so looking forward to having a daughter - is it such a bad thing to want to spoil her?"

There was a thump and a rustling sound and an outraged cry of, "Aki!"

"So cute." Akira's voice rumbled low and smooth. "My little tiger's found another cub to protect."

"Mmm… Aki…."

Natsumi duck-walked away as quickly as she could, breaking into a jog as soon as it was safe enough to stand. It was one thing to eavesdrop on things related to her but another to peep on a couple's… intimate moments. Besides, the whole conversation left her feeling like a cannonball had taken up permanent residence in her stomach.

The coast seemed clear as she charted her way past the koi pond toward the oak tree dominating the stretch of land behind the dojos. The one with limbs that curled and dipped and climbed like something in a story written by an author who only used their first initials. The one that should have a name starting with a capital letter and be inhabited by an entire colony of magical folk. The one that beckoned for her to crawl up as high as she could, nestle her back against the solid trunk, and lose herself in another world.

Halfway there, her feet slowed to a stop. A rhythmic chanting wafted out of the smallest building, the one set aside for family use. It tugged at her memory, like a half-forgotten lullaby. Quietly, she tip-toed up on to the engawa, careful to avoid being spotted through the open window. Contorting her body into a half-crouch, she poked her head up over the window sill and gasped.

Takashi, clad in a gi and hakama of such a dark blue they were nearly black, stood in the center of the room in a beam of sunlight. Dust motes twirled and danced around him as he lifted his bamboo sword over his head while stepping forward, brought it down with a swift motion and a shout while bringing his feet together, and then repeated the action in the opposite direction.

Mesmerized, she forgot her caution and lifted her head higher. It was repetitive, yet done with such complete and utter focus it transformed each swing into something unique. A discrete act, complete and perfect, an intersection of strength and grace. Transfixed by the beauty of it, Natsumi couldn't tear her eyes away.

"Spying on my brother?"

Her yelp reverberated off the corridor between the buildings and she jumped back so fast only Satoshi's quick reflexes kept her from whacking him in the chin with her head. The figure inside didn't alter his routine in the slightest.

"No, I…" Curiosity overwhelmed her caution. "What is he doing?"

"Suburi. Practice swings for Kendo," he explained. Satoshi's eyes grew wide in adoration. "Onii-san does two thousand of them every day!"

She choked back on a snicker, Satoshi's brother worship was kind of adorable. "So… I guess that's a lot, then?"

His head bobbed enthusiastically, oblivious to her sarcasm. "Most people try for five hundred to a thousand. I can do fifteen hundred but I've been practicing since I was three. What's really amazing about Onii-san is that his last swing is as perfect as his first!"

Natsumi turned her head to hide her smile. Of all the family, this one was the hardest to guard against. Something about him induced an urge to pat him on the head. Or feed him a cookie.

Tilting her head, she watched Takashi execute a few more swings. "Oh, that's why it seemed familiar," she murmured to herself, "I think I remember watching Papa do those." The memory was vague, nothing more than hazy images and half-remembered sounds. She couldn't have been more than four or five at the time.

"Otou-san says your father was one of the best." Natsumi jerked out of her reverie and swung back around to face the boy. "Why haven't you trained? Don't you want to?" He asked softly, as if the very idea that she wouldn't want to follow in her father's footsteps shocked him.

It was a line of questioning she usually shut down. Hard. But, staring into the open, genuine face of the youngest Morinozuka, Natsumi just couldn't find it in her to be rude. Being mean to him would be like kicking an over-sized, adolescent Black Lab. "I tried to take classes once. The headmistress said my grandfather refused permission – he doesn't think martial arts are ladylike."

Satoshi snorted. "Don't let my parents here you say that," he grinned, "My father says he fell in love when Okaa-san won a college championship final with the most perfect men cut he'd ever seen."

Natsumi lips twitched, her imagination caught by the image of her grandfather trying to tell the small, bird-like woman who carried herself with the grace of an empress that kendo wasn't ladylike. She'd probably decapitate him with an ikebana arrangement. "I thought your parents had an arranged match?"

"Yeah, of course. My grandmothers were best friends and always dreamed of uniting their families."

"But…." She wasn't sure how to articulate what she wanted to ask. Not without being offensive. She'd attended boarding schools for the privileged all her life, she was no stranger to arranged marriages. But those polite, business-like unions were a world apart from the fondness, and the passion, she'd witnessed between Akira and Kazumi.

"Oh! I get it." Satoshi's eyes widened as he grasped what she didn't say. "We're not like other families," he explained, "Our parents don't pick a marriage partner to cement a business relationship or a family alliance. They pick the person they think is best for us. Love is… kind of expected."

The whole idea was just plain weird. And strangely seductive. She'd never been considered 'best' for anything, let alone anyone. But, before she could allow the illusion to take hold, reality gave her a sharp slap. She'd been engaged as a baby, before she had a personality at all. Satoshi painted a romantic picture, but it was false. A pretty lie passed on as family tradition. A brief surge of disappointment coiled around her heart but she ruthlessly pushed it aside.

The minute she forgot that she was no good was the minute she set herself up for heartbreak.

"Well, I was just going to…" She waved the arm holding her book in the direction of the tree line, trying to find a way to extricate herself from the conversation before it became even more uncomfortable.

"What's this?" Satoshi snatched the book out of her hand with lightning speed. "Oh, wow! Your English is good enough to read a full novel?"

"Uh… yeah. I attended British boarding schools for a few years. And Swiss. But they were for international students so most of the instruction was in English."

"So cool! That's my worst subject. Onii-san gets top marks in both that and Mandarin." Satoshi dropped down on the engawa and swung his feet back and forth of the edge. "I always thought boarding school would be fun. Hanging out with your roommates, prank wars, inter-house rivalries, sneaking out after curfew - just like Hari Potta!"

"Eh, it was more like 'Lord of the Flies' most of the time." He still had her book so she was forced to sit next to him. "Although, if you take away the magic, Hogwarts is just a bunch of kids confined to a drafty castle in the middle of nowhere with a near criminal lack of adult supervision. So, about the same I guess."

"I think I'd miss my family too much, though." Satoshi rambled on, taking no notice of her cynicism. "But if Yasuchika was there, and Takashi-nii and Mitsukuni-nii too, then it would be okay. Did you?"

She blinked. He was giving her conversational whiplash. "Did I what?"

"Miss your family."

Desperately. "A bit. It got easier," she lied.

"It must have been hard coming back to Japan. Leaving all your friends behind."

She shrugged. "Not really. None of the European schools I went to lived up to my grandfather's expectations." They had never managed to turn her into whatever it was he wanted. "I switched every year or so. I wasn't at the last one long enough to make friends."

Immediately, she could see from the pained look on his face that she'd said too much. Now he was going to think he had to get all touchy-feely and sympathetic over her alleged tragic childhood. Yet another reason it was better to keep folks at a distance - damn her stupid weakness for people that resembled cute animals.

Jumping off the porch, she held her hand out towards him. "Can I have my book back now?" she snarled, firmly putting the wall between them back in place.

"Oh, sure." He stopped in the middle of handing it over to puzzle out the title. "Preed and Preedj-you-deese?" he sounded out in an atrocious accent. His brow wrinkled with the effort of translating the words into Japanese. "Oh! I've heard of this. It's a chick book."

"It is not!" She grabbed it back, unconsciously checking it over for signs of damage. At his wounded expression, her shoulders sagged. "Well, I mean – it is a romance," she conceded, "But it's so much more. It's about class and marriage and social expectation. About self-discovery. About first impressions and about finding out what's really important even if it's not the same as what the world tells you is." His eyes laughed at her and she could feel heat rising from her neckline all the way up to the roots of her hair. It was so much easier being thought a bad girl than a literature otaku. "Anyway," she mumbled, "I like it."

Satoshi held up his hands, "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean anything bad by that." He grinned disarmingly. "Takashi-nii likes romances too. 'Romance of the Three Kingdoms' and stuff like that." His eyes grew wide again. "He can read the 'Tale of Genji' in the original!"

She felt a laugh coming on and stifled it. He was impossible to stay mad at, especially when she was forcing her anger in the first place. "That's… a different kind of romance." 'Cause Genji? Was a total man-whore.

"Is it?" He shrugged. "I mostly only read manga. But it's cool you like these things. Didn't realize you were the type."

"Yeah, well I have hidden depths," she snarked.

Abruptly, Natsumi realized the shouting coming from within the dojo had ceased. Her heartrate accelerated, of all the Morinozukas the one she wished to avoid the most was the boy who made her stomach do acrobatics worthy of an Olympic gymnast every time his eyes met hers.

"I'm… I'm leaving first," she mumbled, turning to run off before Satoshi could reply.

~oOoOo~

Hidden depths.

Kamisama, he hoped that was true – because if she didn't…. Takashi shook his head and headed to shower and change.

He hadn't meant to listen in. Although he'd been aware of her presence from the minute she'd poked her head up over the window, learning to ignore distraction was part of his training. It was only when he stopped his practice that he was unable to avoid overhearing the tail end of their conversation.

Entering the changing room, he shrugged off his gi and started to toss it into the designated laundry bin. Frowning, he examined it closer and sighed. He'd worn it inside out. Mentally he traced back over his practice, using his fingers to count off sets. Ah! He'd done two extra sets of haya suburi and skipped one of the basic kote strikes entirely.

Removing the hakama he carefully folded it so the pleats would be preserved, all the while mentally berating himself for his lack of concentration. It wasn't surprising, any inner turmoil he felt tended to manifest externally in lapses like that. At least it hadn't occurred during a match – the last time he'd let himself get into this state Mitsukuni had given him a lecture. And a minor concussion. Not in that order.

He needed to regain his inner harmony, and soon, before his inattention became a danger to himself and others. But how? Not even his meditation this morning had helped him to bring the war raging within him to a resolution.

On one side were arrayed the forces of family responsibility, faith in a tradition that had worked for a thousand years, his own hopes for the future, and the way something deep inside him tightened whenever he looked into those doe-brown eyes.

On the other side was the not insignificant fact that she just didn't seem to like him. And he wasn't altogether sure he liked her.

She was sullen, uncommunicative (and he recognized the irony of that accusation), and the most guarded person he'd ever met - including both Kyoya and the Hitachiin brothers. At least the twins were trying to allow people in their closed off world and Ootori's façade was a charming one. Nothing at all like his surly, apathetic bride.

He knew that just because she wasn't what he expected, what he'd hoped for, it didn't mean she wasn't someone he could learn to get along with. But how would he know if he couldn't close the distance between them? He didn't question that it was up to him to do so, this whole thing was too new to her. She'd be taking her cue from him and, if he allowed their current relationship to stand, the marriage wouldn't happen.

Because regardless of family tradition, he wouldn't drag an unwilling woman to the altar.

The problem was, he had no idea where to start. He didn't have Mitsukuni's or Tamaki's ability to batter their way through someone's defenses to befriend them. In fact, most of the time, he was in the exact opposite situation. The clients in the Host Club viewed his natural reserve as shyness and were always trying to bring him out of his shell. His teammates in the Kendo and Judo clubs considered him aloof and worked extra hard to elicit a word of praise.

Truth was, he wasn't shy or aloof – he simply didn't believe in saying anything he didn't mean.

Most people talked too much. They buried truth under a flurry of words, using them as both weapon and shield. Constantly telling themselves little lies. 'I'll do it tomorrow.' 'I didn't mean to.' 'It's not my fault.' He would rather people judge him the same way he did them - by what they did. Actions were the only real proof of a person's true character. The only way to know their heart.

After a quick shower, he changed into maroon basketball shorts and a white, sleeveless tee with a shoe brand emblazoned across the front. It was too hot even for a yukata. Stepping out of the building, his eyes searched the tree line, not stopping until he spotted a blaze of unnatural color high up in the old oak tree. He wasn't quite sure how he had known that's where she'd be, tucked up as high as she could climb with the book she'd defended so passionately.

A love of Jane Austen was a pretty thin thread on which to hang the beliefs and expectations of a lifetime, but right now it was all he had.

The responsible thing, the mature thing, would be to go talk to her. Or at least try to before she found a way to shoot him down. But, despite a year in the Host Club, charming women was simply not in his repertoire. He'd never had a desire to be more than polite to his guests. Anyway, all those romantic words Tamaki spouted were just another type of lie. Harmless illusions that satisfied some need in both the Host King and his guests.

The reasons why his feet turned towards the house instead were something he didn't think he'd be able to uncover even after an hour of meditation.

~oOoOo~

"Oh, Takashi, there you are. Come here for a minute."

Obedient to his mother's command, he stepped inside the large tatami room his mother had commandeered. Seated before a low table, she was surrounded on all sides by foliage laid out on sheets as she constructed ikebana arrangements to compliment both the public and private rooms throughout the house, something she did every week.

Dropping to his knees on the pillow across from her, he waited to hear why he'd been summoned but Kazumi did not appear to be in any hurry to tell him. Quirking her head from side to side, she assessed the arrangement of bamboo stems and leaves set in a rock shaped vase. "Hmmm… hand me those morning glories, please."

"No, not those." She stopped him as he reached toward a mound of bright pink flowers. "The ones with the blue petal and pink funnel." Switching direction, he grasped a vine bunched with five flowers of such a deep indigo they almost glowed and placed them in her outstretched palm. She tucked them into the vase so they clustered around the base of the bamboo as if the delicate blooms were seeking shelter from a storm. "There. I think this would be nice for Natsumi-chan's room." She traced a finger around the edge of the petal. "So colorful. It reminds me of her, don't you think?"

"Hn." Personally, he thought a thistle would be a better representation of her personality.

His mother set the piece aside, reached into the sleeve of her yukata and pulled out an envelope. "This is for you." She set it before him on the table.

Opening it, he found two tickets for one of Tokyo's many aquariums. The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile, sometimes fate handed you exactly what you needed. It was such a simple answer to his problem he didn't know why he hadn't thought of it. Had his friends been around, it was the first thing Tamaki would have suggested.

"Being engaged doesn't alleviate you from the obligation to date," she stated as if he hadn't understood her message. "Ah! Otou-san was the same way – thinking that just because our parents had settled things between them he didn't need to make any effort to court me." Picking up a camellia she began trimming its leaves into a more pleasing shape. "I soon set him straight on that score."

Registering the date on the tickets, his spirit fell. "Tomorrow, I agreed to help Niita-sensei prepare students for the 1st dan examination." Placing the tickets back in the envelope, he slid it back across the table.

"I'm sure I'll be able to arrange a replacement for you." She slid them back with a twinkle in her eye and steel in her voice. Setting aside the flower and pruning shears, she folded her hands atop her lap and leaned forward. Unconsciously, he straightened his ramrod back even further. "Takashi, the seriousness with which you take your duties as next head of the family is admirable, but there are times when your responsibility to your wife has to come first. And right now is one of them.

"It is so much harder to fix a poor foundation than to make sure it's built right in the first place. Living under one roof isn't enough, not in a house like this – you could easily go months without exchanging a word. Setting aside time for just the two of you, time to get to know each other, is critical." Perceptive eyes pinned him in place. "Especially when your own heart is unsettled."

Embarrassment tinged his cheeks and he turned his head to avoid the scrutiny of one of the only two people who could always tell when he was troubled. Picking up the envelope, he gave in to the inevitable. "Thank you. I think Natsumi-chan will enjoy it - she seems fond of the koi pond."

Koi and Jane Austen, a very thin thread indeed.

"Go, then. Have fun." She shooed him away and he stood up to take his leave. "And, Takashi," she stopped him on his way out the door, "Make sure you ask properly. Don't just grunt at her and expect her to know what you mean."

He turned, smiling at the teasing lilt of her voice and gave the bow of a subject before his emperor. "Hai, Okaa-san."


A/N: A bit longer of a delay than I'd planned - had some writer's block with this chapter until I got a better grasp on what needed to happen. Thanks to all the new favoriters and followers huge thanks to all those who've left a review. Hope y'all stick with me when things start getting rough after the next chapter or two (evil grin).

Chapter Title Trope Referenced: "Hidden Depths" - People are rarely all that they seem at first glance. (ref. TV Tropes)

Some review responses:

Storz – I think (I hope) you'll be surprised with which people draw her out. One of the fun things about using an OC is that you can have the canon characters interact with them differently depending on the setup.

Germanwriter, and unravelling E's soul – I think anyone who loves history is a bit of a romantic (the other type) and that is Mori's favorite subject. I will say that Natsumi isn't going to make it easy for him to discover if the girl he thought he was in love with still exists.

Wealhtheow1 – I agree that Tasuya's behaving rather normally for a four-year-old in a rough home environment, but Mori doesn't know that. In the manga, he seems to leap into 'protective' mode first and try to be understanding later, like when he found out Reiko was trying to curse Honey.

Lillyannp – re the house: I have obsessive backstory creation disorder. Seriously, I have to work out all the details of apartments, career paths, previous relationships, and so on for almost every location and minor character. I have the weirdest ad feed now…