Hey, guys. It's been a while since I've updated, and I just wanted to say that I've decided I'll only update when I feel like revisiting this fic. My life is pretty busy in general, and I don't think that'll change anytime soon. If that stops you from reading the story, I completely understand.

It's also been brought to my attention that there are formatting errors throughout the chapters. I try my best to look out for these mistakes, but I don't have time to edit more than once and it's easy to miss things.

Enjoy this chapter regardless! :)


She was seated at a dining table. Soft violin music was being played in the background and the centerpiece of fresh roses filled the air with a sweet scent.

What really captured her attention was the two people sitting opposite her.

One wore an expression of partially hidden contempt and the other was clearly disappointed. But they both avoided looking at the pale girl in front of them.

As usual, they said nothing. And yet it was obvious that they'd much rather have her sister be sitting in that seat.

Sierra was feeling far too much, but she didn't want to. She convinced herself that instead she felt nothing.

Feeling nothing was better than feeling something painful - wasn't that true?

The sight of Honey and Mori approaching was enough to bring Sierra back to reality. She silently scolded herself. It wasn't the time to be reminiscing. The truth was, it happened frequently. Whenever she had time to think, her parents would creep into her thoughts and she would find herself becoming stressed. She couldn't escape their disappointment.

"Hi, Sera-chan!"

Sierra looked at the beaming boy in front of her. Sera-chan. As far as she could recall, nobody had ever shortened her name in that way. She liked it. "Good afternoon," she greeted, addressing both seniors.

"We came to check if you're feeling okay. You looked kind of sad before," Honey explained. He glanced up at his friend. "Right, Takashi?"

"Right," was the short confirmation.

For a split second, Sierra looked surprised that anyone there would've considered her emotions, but she quickly replaced her disbelief with what she called her 'public smile.'

"I'm fine, but thank you for thinking of me." It was only half a lie; she was already feeling better thanks to the thoughtful gesture.

"I'm glad." Honey beamed. His eyes suddenly lit up. "Hey, do you wanna eat some cake with us Sera-chan?"

"I'm afraid Sierra won't be able to for the time being."

The voice was familiarly polite. Sierra's suspicions were confirmed when she glanced to her left.

Kyoya Ootori leant against the pillar behind them with his arms crossed, and the absence of a clipboard or book was immediately obvious. As usual, he exuded a certain formality.

"She's here as a hostess, which means that she has duties to see to like the rest of us," he elaborated.

Sierra smiled at Honey in reassurance. "I'll have cake with you and Mori-senpai another time."

"Alright, maybe tomorrow!" With that, he and his tall, silent companion left - in search of sweets, no doubt.

"Honey-senpai seems so..." Sierra paused. "Young." In comparison to Mori, Honey was so bubbly and childlike. Even referring to him with the 'senpai' honorific struck her as strange.

"Honey-senpai may seem like a child, but he's very intelligent."

"I don't doubt it."

"Your guests are going to arrive soon," Kyoya said. His glasses glinted as he pushed them up using his middle finger. "I guess I should run you through the basics of hosting."

"Yes, that would be helpful," Sierra muttered, half-sarcastically.

Kyoya didn't react to her comment. "Make sure your clients are satisfied by food and drinks. Additionally, you'll need to engage and entertain them through conversation. However, you're lacking a type."

"Based on what I've seen, a type is merely a host exaggerating a certain set of traits, correct? Almost like a persona."

"You're quick to pick up on things," Kyoya stated, his eyebrows raising barely enough for Sierra to notice. "Yes, you're correct. Although some personas are more realistic than others."

"Then how do you suggest I act for the time being?" Sierra queried.

"Since types are usually based on a host's personality, I suggest you act normally. By Monday we should have established your type."

All of a sudden, an irritated Haruhi was standing with them. "Hey, Kyoya-senpai, there are a couple of girls by the entrance. They said they wanted to see you."

"Yes, of course," Kyoya responded. "I'll go speak to them." Having said that, he made his way to the girls waiting at the door.

A short silence lingered before Haruhi spoke. "So, Sierra-senpai, do you like Ouran Academy so far?"

"Just call me Sierra. I'm still not used to the honorifics," Sierra admitted with a small smile. For some reason, she was immediately at ease around Haruhi. "I think it's a great school, the Arts program is wonderful."

"That's true, but some of the people here are questionable, to say the least." Haruhi pointedly looked at the twins, who were near Honey and Mori.

"Most schools are like that, I'd imagine."

The brunette gave a light chuckle. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I don't know why I even agreed to this. Tamaki was just so insistent."

"Yeah, he's like that a lot." Haruhi's expression said she was all too familiar with Tamaki's strong will. "Don't worry, you'll get used to everything. You'll do great."

Sierra wasn't so sure. She knew she was good at putting up acts when it came to matters of business, but rich high school students were different. Wealthy teenagers didn't care about how they acted towards Sierra, and there was only so much frustration she could handle.

Suddenly, the previous conversation seemed to tug at her thoughts. Although she didn't want to be rude, her curiousity got the better of her. "Haruhi, could I please ask something?"

"Sure, ask away."

"Are you a girl?"

Haruhi stared for a few seconds. "Wow, that was quick. I don't really mind if people see me as a guy or a girl, but biologically I'm female. How'd you figure it out?"

"One of the twins said something about it earlier. He said something about you being able to be a female host. Besides, you could pass for either ge-"

A hand grasped Sierra's shoulder and another covered her mouth.

"Never speak those words again to anyone other than the hosts!"

"Senpai, let go of her," Haruhi stated, an unamused look on her face. "You'll make her worried.

Gently, Tamaki released the albino from his grip and stepped aside. "My apologies, I may have overreacted."

Sierra simply smoothed her dress - which she found to be a very unflattering shade of mustard - and wore a mildly exasperated half-smile.

"Nobody besides the hosts are meant to know about Haruhi's identity. I implore upon you," the blonde cried dramatically, "please keep my daughter's secret safe!"

Before she could let herself ask anything else, Sierra nodded. "I'll protect Haruhi's secret."

"I'm glad," Tamaki said, exhaling in relief.

"There's a guy waiting over there," Haruhi pointed out. "Is he Sierra's first guest?"

Both Tamaki and Sierra looked towards the entrance.

"Wonderful! He's here."

Sierra couldn't bring herself to show the same enthusiasm.

"Now, then, Sierra," Tamaki began, "let's go meet your first ever guest!"

Haruhi offered her a look of silent encouragement as she reluctantly followed Tamaki towards the student.

Within a short ten seconds, Sierra stood before her client. Right away she knew that the average looking boy in front of her was expecting someone else.

"This is Nakamura-san," Tamaki introduced. "I suppose I'll leave you two to it, then."

"Pleased to meet you, Nakamura-san. I'm Sierra Abernathy."

Nakamura's attempt to appear calm and collected failed entirely. "A-Abernathy-san, I believe we've met before in Humanities. Call me Kaito."

"Yes, I think I recall our brief meeting," Sierra lied. Quite honestly, she barely paid attention to her peers in class. They were of no use to her. "Feel free to call me Sierra. I guess we should find a seat."

"Of course."

Much to Sierra's relief, there was a table waiting for the two of them. It already had refreshments prepared.

Just as Sierra was about to seat herself, Kaito stopped her.

"Please, allow me," he offered in a rush, pulling out Sierra's chair for her.

Without further speech, Sierra sat down as her guest did the same.

"So-"

"Would you like some coffee?" Sierra interrupted drily. "Perhaps cake is more to your liking."

"Just some coffee is fine, thank you," Kaito said far too quickly.

Like many of Ouran Academy's students, he was partly intimidated and confused by her. Most students avoided Sierra. Her ghost-like appearance was enough to scare people off, and her standoffish mannerisms certainly didnt help.

Sierra tried her best to force a somewhat warm smile. "Of course. Do you take sugar and milk?"

"Just one sugar and no milk."

Music Room #3 was becoming increasingly noisy due to more girls coming in. Sierra could practically feel their discreet but envious glares. Their whispers were far from discreet. She ignored them and silently served Kaito his instant coffee.

"Thank you."

"It's my job," Sierra muttered dully, serving herself some. With every sentence, it became harder to hide her distaste for the situation.

"So, Aber- Sierra, why did you choose to join the Host Club?"

"Tamaki insisted upon it, and I eventually accepted."

Kaito blinked a few times. "But why would he pick you? I mean, you're so cold and your appearance isn't exactly-"

Sierra continued to smile through her growing anger, but it was starting to show. "I think it's best if you hold your tongue."

"Hey, that's rude!"

People were starting to look at them now, but Sierra payed them no attention. "After what you said to me? I think those are some double standards, Nakamura, perhaps you should listen to yourself."

Kaito's cheeks grew red as he looked down in shame. "I- you're right, I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me so we can continue our conversation."

The albino nodded. After all, she was used to instances like these - moving on would be beneficial for both of them.

"Let's talk about something different," Kaito suggested in a rush. "Why did you move to Japan in the first place?"

"My parents made the decision for business reasons."

"Oh. Are you living near here, then, or in a more business-oriented area?"

"Actually," Sierra said, her forced smile faltering, "my parents are living in a separate place."

Suddenly, Kaito's expression softened. "Are you living alone?"

"No. I live with my older sister and multiple... servants, if that's what you wish to call them."

Kaito gasped. "It all makes sense now!" he exclaimed, a little too loudly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"That's why you're so cold!" The student's voice was a reasonable volume now. "It's because you've had a tragic past so your personality changed for the worse."

Sierra grimaced. "I appreciate your concern, Kaito, but that's not the case-"

"Now that I think about it, you're actually super pretty, it's just that you're so pale!"

Oh, just shut up, Sierra thought in annoyance. "Could we please change the subject?"

"You're so cute, Abernathy-san!"

"Your theory is truly disgraceful," Sierra muttered. The urge to stand up and leave was hard to resist.

"Everything makes sense now," Kaito continued on. "You're only like this because you're secretly really fragile!"

"If that's what you'd like to believe, sure," was the mumbled response.

"Please forgive me for my past rudeness, I'll never be so unkind a-"

"Thank you for coming, Nakamura-san. I'm afraid your session together has come to an end."

An immense relief washed over Sierra at the sight of Kyoya. In most circumstances, he wouldn't have brightened her mood, but she was glad to get away from Kaito.

"Yes, of course," Kaito replied cheerfully, standing up. "I'll be sure to come see you again in the future, Sierra."

Please don't.

"Great. See you," Sierra said, but her words were the opposite of kind.

The moment Nakamura left, she exhaled deeply, almost as if she'd been holding her breath.

"It appears to have gone successfully," Kyoya noted. This time, he held a clipboard and once again maintained his formal stance.

"He's truly an idiot," Sierra grumbled.

"I suppose the conversation did appear very tiresome. However, the end result is a positive one."

The newest host, still sitting, rested her head on her hand. "Positive?" Her facial expression was one of boredom, but she was still frustrated. "The end result is hardly desirable. I've been mistaken for a "fragile" person with a tragic past."

"Well, you'll be pleased to know that you can now move on to producing artwork."

"Yes, I am. I couldn't bear to deal with another one of those assholes," Sierra complained, idly stirring the half-finished coffee she'd served herself.

"In the future, I suggest you express more of an interest in your clients. Additionally, you need to be friendlier," Kyoya advised her.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Now, if you'd follow me, we've arranged an easel for you. Depending on where you'd like to paint, I can have it moved."

Sierra stood up and gently pushed her chair so it was positioned as it had been before. Following Kyoya, she tried to tune out the noise. Many of the girls were staring at her, but she knew they were trying to hide it. She didn't care; Sierra was used to stares.

When they had reached the far left corner of the room, Kyoya stopped. A wooden easel sat there, along with a wooden case to match and a white, cushioned stool.

"For now, this is everything you'll need," the Ootori boy said, writing something down.

"Hmm.." Sierra gave the equipment a brief glance and then surveyed the rest of the room. It was so full of energy. Her gaze travelled across the room and stopped. "If you don't mind, I'd like to move everything over there."

Kyoya looked over to where Sierra was pointing. The area was still at the back of the room, but centred. One would be able to see everything going on in the room if seated there, which is exactly why Sierra chose the spot.

"Of course." As per usual, Kyoya appeared indifferent when he spoke. "I'll get one of the other hosts to assist with moving everything."

"I can do it myself," Sierra said, but the conversation was interrupted before the other student could reply.

"Hey, Boss, I think we're done for the day!"

"We'd better get going."

"Actually," Kyoya began, disregarding the twins' falsely innocent smiles, "your next guests should arrive in about fifteen minutes."

"Oh! That's interesting, isn't it, Kaoru?" Hikaru asked through feigned ignorance.

"Yeah, I thought we were finished.." Kaoru replied with an abashed smile."

"How convenient. You have time to help Sierra move those things."

"Oh yeah, ghost is here!" one of the twins exclaimed. "We didn't see you, since you're, you know.."

"Kinda transparent looking," the other finished.

Sierra glared calmly. "Just help me move these things."

Hikaru opened his mouth to say something teasing, but Sierra fixed him with another icy look. Kyoya occupied himself with writing things down.

"Where do you want us to put this stuff?" Kaoru asked.

"Over there, please," Sierra answered, pointing to the location.

Grudgingly, Hikaru picked up the easel and Kaoru took the stool. As she picked up the wooden case, Sierra could feel her wrist and fingers tense. It wasn't that heavy, but she'd always been physically weak. She carried it and gently placed it down next to the stool.

From that angle, almost the entire room was visible. There was so much inspiration. For a few seconds, her eyes lit up as she was flooded with ideas.

"So, what are you gonna paint?" Kaoru's way of speaking was polite, and although Sierra hadn't the slightest idea which twin was which, she could tell they were different in temperament.

"I'm not sure yet. It all depends on what Kyoya instructs me to paint."

"Come on, let's go do something interesting," Hikaru said to his brother, and off they went.

Moments later, Kyoya was standing near them again. "Since I'm the only one free at the moment, you'll have to start with my portrait first. Tamaki has requested that each of us has a personalised painting."

"Alright. You should be seated for the process," Sierra said, sitting down on the stool.

"I'll get a chair."

Sierra bent down to open the case and discovered it to contain pencils of varying types, paintbrushes, oil paints and more oil painting tools. Funny, she thought. Each and every one of the supplies was a product she used regularly for her artwork.

Just as Sierra was going through the objects, Kyoya returned with a chair. "Hopefully you'll work well with these supplies. I gathered things that you already use."

"How-" Sierra stopped herself. Surely, he'd just tell her that he has his "methods" again. When she looked up again, the young man was sitting. "I guess I'll begin."

Kyoya was silent for the first ten minutes, but occasionally rose his clipboard to write something down. The artist lightly mapped out his face on the canvas. If Sierra judged correctly, he was only a few inches taller than her own above-average height of five foot eight. His eye colour seemed to shift between brown and grey.

"From what I can tell, you're very precise with your art."

Sierra nodded. "If I were to do any less, I would improve too slowly."

"You seem like a determined person," Kyoya said with a small smirk that wavered on the edge of genuine curiousity. "Hopefully you'll be able to take that viewpoint on your responsibilities as a host."

"It's hard to be passionate about something that only infuriates me."

"Your outlook is interesting."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Sierra murmured, putting the pencil down to rest her hand.

"I think you've done enough for today. It will soon be time for everyone to leave," Kyoya stated. "You may go."

Putting the pencil back and shutting the case, Sierra felt a weight lift off her shoulders. Doing art itself was enjoyable, but the environment, although inspiring, was rather draining.

She stood up and gave Kyoya a small, curt nod. "I'll get going, then. Good afternoon."

"Yes, good afternoon."

Leaving Music Room #3 felt freeing, but a strange feeling remained. No matter how much she despised interacting with disrespectful peers, Sierra couldn't help but think that maybe she'd grow to like the Host Club.