A/N: Thank you for all your kind reviews! Sorry I can only update once a week, but I'm quite a busy person…(not really…I just have algebra 1 to worry about) Please feel free to review more than once with your critiques! Not that many people are reading it and I need to know how to make it better! Happy Reading!
"What's going on?", asked Haruhi as she pried rose petals off her face. She was so surprised about the petals thing that she didn't pay any attention to what the six young men in front of her said. Staring at them she noticed that five of them were gorgeous, and the other looked to be about nine or ten. She was wondering what he was doing at Ouran when the blonde student seated in a throne-like chair started to speak again.
"I never thought the Host Club would be entertaining a boy. Kyouya, do you know this gentleman?" The tall fellow with glasses looked up from the little black book he was scribbling in. He sighed, snapping the book shut.
"That's Haruhi Fujioka. A transfer student from America. He has a class with the twins, so why don't you just ask them? Now if you'll excuse me Tamaki, I'm going get back to work." with that, he reopened his little notebook and started walking towards a corner that looked as though it had been sectioned off as a sort of office. Haruhi had succeeded in untangling the last petal from her hair, and was inching her way towards the door, when two pairs of slender arms snaked their way around her arms. Those boys from my class, she thought, surprised. The tall blonde slowly rose from his chair, gracefully making his way towards her.
"I never thought the famous scholar would be so openly gay!" he said with a smirk. He gently grasped her chin in his strong smooth hand, "What kind of boys do you like, Haruhi? The strong, silent type, like Mori-sempai? The boy Lolita, twincest, the cool type, or" he leaned in so closely, she could feel his warm breath on her nose, "maybe, you're into a guy like me. What do you say?" At this point Haruhi was so confused and afraid, she was flinching every time one of these gorgeous boys moved. Tamaki sempai was so pushy, he backed her into a pedestal. Haruhi barely had time to register the crash when she heard the words "eight million yen". She dropped to her knees and began picking up the delicately painted blue and white pieces of pottery. She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to hold back the tears. Now you've done it, she thought. Imagine how upset Dad's going to get when he figures out how much we owe this damn rich school for a stupid renaissance vase. She clutched her cheek, remembering how angry he got when she forgot to get his beer chilled and on the table.
"I'll try to pay you back, I-I-I-" she struggled to find the right words. She wanted so badly to make it up to them. "I'll do whatever you want." She said, picking up the last big shard. "Can someone show me where a trash can is?" she asked looking at them, expectantly.
"It's over there-" started Hikaru.
"-In the kitchen." finished Kaoru. Haruhi gave a short bow and muttered a short thank you, before heading in the direction they were pointing. She looked over her shoulder to find them huddled together across the room, speaking in hushed tones. She guessed this room used to be something other than a music room since it had such a well equipped kitchen. She stayed in that room for a long time, trying to avoid the inevitable. They would yell. She would say goodbye to this school and her dream of ever becoming a lawyer.
The silence was deafening as she walked across the room. Haruhi tried to focus solely on the rhythmic sound of her cheap shoes slapping the over priced floor. When she reached them, her heart was pounding so hard she was positive they could hear it as well. She wished they would just start yelling already. She wasn't used to this kind of silence, before being punished.
"Have you ever heard the saying, Haruhi", the upperclassmen named Tamaki was finally saying something. "'When in Rome, do as the Romans do'?" Haruhi slowly nodded her head, not sure where he was headed with this. "Well then," he extended his long arm and pointed at her, his personality seeming to change.
"from now on, you're the Host Club's dog."
Haruhi typed the last sentence of her email to Snow and clicked the send button. For the past week, her friends back in America had been demanding to know how she ended up surrounded by such gorgeous young men (she'd sent pictures). The last few months she'd spent staying after school as a host were becoming the best part of living in Japan. Being swooned over by a bunch of girls didn't really suit her fancy, it was after the girls left that she really loved. She liked the feeling of laughing with her friends over silly things, like the way Tamaki had practically moved into his little emo corner. Even though she told them to cut it out, she was always happy when the twins wrapped their arms around her, and called her their toy. Mori-sempai's protectiveness made her feel safe, and brave. Like she could face anything that came her way. Walking down the street every afternoon to her broken home, she felt ten times more confident then when she'd first arrived in Japan. The sting of his anger was starting to hurt less.
Haruhi closed her laptop and started walking towards the kitchen to wash dishes. She had started washing all the dishes after each meeting to pay off her debt quicker. It always seemed like a lot, piled up in the sink, but it was only tea cups and little saucers used for cake and sandwiches. She used to wash them alone, until Mori and Hunny sempai started staying after to help out.
"Do you need anything done?" asked Mori-sempai. Haruhi was so startled she almost dropped the delicate china cup she was scrubbing. She was trying to work on not flinching so as not to rouse suspicion from the guys, but they saw right through her act. Each time she flinched or jumped, something like concern flashed across their beautiful features, but was gone as soon as it arrived. Mori-sempai's looks always lasted a little longer when they were alone.
"Um, would you mind rinsing and drying the dishes, please?" came Haruhi's slow reply. She glanced back at him, seeing that look of concern clouding his sparkling gray eyes. He took a few graceful steps forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, causing another flinch.
"Haruhi," he started, trying to look at her eyes, which seemed to be glued to the floor between them. "Are you alright? You seem startled by the littlest things. Is something going on that you're not telling me?"
Haruhi gave a nervous chuckle, trying to sound casual. "Of course not, Mori- sempai. Why would you ask such a silly question like that? Everything's going g-great at my house." She tried not to focus on the warmth of his strong hand, still resting on her shoulder. , or the fact the he said "me" and not "we".
"I never said anything about your home, Haruhi." He dried the dish in his hand, and set the towel down. Turning towards her, he grasped her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. His determined gray eyes stared into hers. She felt as if he was looking into her, instead of at her. She wanted to tell him anything he wanted to know. Before she knew what was happening, tears streamed down her face as she told him everything. She old him about her father's alcohol problem, the abuse, even the "visits". That was the hardest thing to talk about. She felt so ashamed that she let it happen, that she closed her eyes against his gaze to hide the shame from him. Haruhi didn't want him to know what happened in her room at night. The way her father brushed them off as "visits" and that giving it a false name somehow made it ok. She hated the way that he thought, if nobody ever said the words molestation, abuse, or alcoholic then he was off the hook. He was still a good person if he pretended he was. Haruhi hated everything about him, but she still loved him. She hated herself for it, but if she ever had to make a choice between his life and her own, she would sacrifice herself, so he could continue living.
Mori stood silently as she sank to the floor and sobbed. Hunny had already gone home for karate practice, so they were the only two left. She wondered if she ever got the chance to let herself go like this. If she ever got a moment to stop being strong for everyone. He wished he could help in some way. What he wanted most was to hug her and tell her it was going to be alright. He wanted to be the only one kiss those delicate rosy lips. Mori was sure that if he ever crossed paths with her father, he would beat him within an inch of his life. He would beat anyone who tried to hurt Haruhi. His Haruhi.
"Sorry about this" said Haruhi, finally getting up from her spot on the floor. "I didn't want you to know any of that."
"You shouldn't have to deal with that." said Mori, wanting to hug her. He settled for an awkward pat on the shoulder, instead.
"I know, and I'm trying to get him some help. I've been trying to convince him to attend some of those meetings for alcoholics, but he's not really listening. He's not really drinking as much, because I've been pouring out a little beer out of his bottle and filling it with water instead. He complains that I'm doing something to it, but I just tell him that the only brand we can afford is the cheap kind. He doesn't always believe me, but it works sometimes." Haruhi nervously rambled on, not knowing how to end this uncomfortable conversation. She looked into Mori's gorgeous eyes, and time seemed to stand still. She felt as if they were the only two people in the world. He grasped her chin again, but this time it wasn't forcefully. He was timid about it, almost shy. What would Mori-sempai have to be shy about?, thought Haruhi, clueless. She searched his eyes for some kind of hint. Looking for the reason he was scared. Mori's face inched ever so slightly towards hers, until she could feel his warm breath on her lips. His face was so close she could no longer see both of his eyes at once, her eyes were forced to stop darting back and forth. They stayed like lifetime, until he moved a little closer, pressing his perfectly sculpted lips against hers. One hand still on her chin, the other on the small of her back, inching her forward, until there was nothing between them. Haruhi could have stayed like that for the rest of her life, as long as he was there in front of her. She hoped Mori would always be there to protect her.