The flow of the last chapter was, quite frankly, irritating. So I've cut out a bit of the last chapter, rewritten it so it makes slightly more sense, tried to make Kyoya slightly more in character, added a bit to the end to make it longer and progress the story and, et voila!

Chapter 4

Oh and I disclaim anything you recognize. That much should be obvious. :)

~ Mari


It really shouldn't have been such a big 'surprise' when I found myself in the Host Club two weeks later at the invitation of Kyoya. He'd wanted a 'second opinion' on the winter theme they'd chosen. He'd asked me over dinner one night, to my surprise and his father's quiet approval. I almost thought it was a joke, but I'd tentatively accepted considering I hadn't been having to much luck on the 'making friends' front. Not since I'd decided to keep my living arrangements to myself anyway. Redmond wasn't such a big name here. I'd like to keep it that way. I needed something to do. And anyway, he'd asked. Kyoya didn't ask. He told you things and you did them. Out of fear. I was wary but I had nothing to lose. Not like I had such a busy social calendar.

I'd spent roughly twenty minutes standing around, being accosted and feeling awkward before I finally decided to do something useful. I needed to clean, my fingers itched, but the place was spotless. So I left Tamaki mid-compliment and went to peruse Kyoya's armchair. Really, that was the beginning of the end.

The sheer amount of stuff which went in that club was amazing, and I realized the necessity of carrying a clipboard. To keep his thoughts together, organize appointents, schedual trips and order flowers and decorations. Managing payments to the club, and the sale of calenders and other Host memorabilia, and just generally preserve his sanity. I looked at it thoughtfully as I watched him charm the pants off a small red head and was surprised that I felt no annoyance at it. Or anything that went on anymore. Except perhaps the twins' little 'act'.

After that first time nobody had tried to charm me. I suppose because now I was unofficially helping to manage the club, instead of availing personally of their services.

Thank God.

Sometime during the course of that week however, I'd become a sort of... secretary. Kyoya didn't say anything so I took it to mean that he didn't mind at all. He only ever commented on it once, and that was to ask whether or not I'd made arrangements for lunch to be brought to the room. Which, of course, I had. "No milk, I think Clarissa is lactose intolerant."

"Tamaki's client?"

"Yes." He was writing something on his clipboard. I looked at the somewhat clueless blond, amused.

"He told her he loved milk."

I went around the room, straightening chairs and making sure all was in order before three thirty. Heck, I'd even gotten off class to do it so it was all good. Never mind that resolution anyway. It didn't work. I had known it wasn't going to work. I lived with Kyoya for Chris-sake, it was never going to work.

By Wednesday the next week, I was taking calls.

"Hello, this is Melinda Redmond calling for the Ouran Host Club, I was wondering about the assortment of flowers ordered for the Monday after next?... No not yellow sunflowers. Mr. Ootori specifically requested red ones... Well I'm sure you've done what you think ought to be done but now I'm telling you to scrap the yellow and send red... Yes, a Sunday shipment is acceptable. Thank you." I hung up and scribbled down the details quickly, mentally checking it off the list. What was the theme that day? Fire, or something?

Oh yes, the horses. Weren't they doing some kind of dragon thing? And weren't they supposed to have been checked the day before last to see if they were suitable. I frowned in displeasure. Actually I did remember a man saying something about calling me back later. This was three days later.

"Hello, this is Melinda Redmond, may I speak to Suzuki, Haruto?... Ah, Mr. Suzuki I'm calling about... oh you did get my previous messages?" I rolled my eyes, he was hedging. My lips were pursed and my expression unamused as I dutifully laughed into the phone as his lame joke required. " Sir, I hope you recognize the importance of this appointment. It would not be advisable to keep Mr. Ootori waiting."

When, I wondered, had I become so comfortable with this 'job'? To the extent that I could anticipate the next thing out of this man's mouth would be stuttered apologies. I cut him off prematurely. "Mr. Ootori has a previous engagement tomorrow morning and thus will be unable to greet you. However he would appreciate the horses being dropped off as quickly as possible. At the Ouran- take this down- Ouran Academy, at the reception just in front of the fountain. Thank you."

I hung up and scribbled down the details, looking up when I realized that most memebers of the Host Club were here- Honey was late and so by proxy, Mori- and staring at me.

"What?" I asked blandly. Tamaki looked at me, gaping. I was amused despite myself.

"Since when have you..."

"... Been doing that stuff?" The twins asked, one on either side of the sofa I had adopted as my work space.

"Since now." I replied. I scanned my list and sipped the mug of tea I held loosely in my hand. "Um...Hikaru," I looked at him. " Your grades are falling. Mr. Tanaka has informed me that if you don't pick up the pace you will fail English. The same goes for you Haruhi. What gives?"

I'd given up with the overly polite, small talk-type chit chat long ago. I fixed them both with a hard stare. Hauhi shifted his weight, leaning on one leg oddly. Femininely. I shook my head and stared at Hikaru who was glaring at the ground. No answer seemed forthcoming from either. At least Haruhi had the good grace to shrug and blush a little.

I shrugged. "I'm not sure if you're aware, but there is a rule in place which states that any Club whose members are receiving poor grades on a continuous basis is liable to termination. I do my English homework every night in this room from the end of the club 'til five. You can take advantage of it, if you want."

No more was said. By me anyway, though I received a few questioning looks. Kyoya was exchanging a faint smile with Tamaki and Kaoru just looked tired.


"Kyoya-kun why is she here?" Hikaru demanded when Melinda had left. "She's not supposed to be part of the club."

The boy in question shrugged. "She's not."

"Then what is she!"

"Yeah," Haruhi joined, a little confused. "I'm kind of wondering that myself."

"Don't you like her Haruhi-kun?" Honey asked from his seat on the floor with Usa- chan.

"Of course I do senpai, I just... don't know who she is."

"Annoying, that's who!" Hikaru exploded.

"Guys!" Tamaki swiftly brought them under control, and looked at them with that rare serious look he seldom used. " Melinda, is a guest at the Host Club." He paused to let that sink in. "She is just like any other client. She pays for our services. Not with money- but she does. We have promised to make every girl who walks through that door happy. And that's what we're going to do. Yes?"

Well nobody could really say 'no' when he put it that way. And really, nobody wanted to.

"Hey," Honey suddenly exclaimed. "Do you think she'll want to come to the beach with us."

"She won't have much choice." Kyoya cut in. "Father's gone for the week so it'll just be me and her. She can't be left alone."

"Why?" Hikaru groused. "She's a big girl. Not like she can't look after herself."

"She's coming." Tamaki and Kyoya said. In unison. And that was the end of that.


My mother brought work home with her sometimes. Not when I was very young, but after I turned six I think. When she could trust me not to get into too many life-threatening situations. Like I said, She was a Social Worker. A good one, but not happy with it. Not as happy as when she was playing Secretary for my dad and sorting his life out for him. She taught me how to organize things. Parties, events, dinners, anything really. I suppose it's because when she was growing up she had very little say in her own life. She grew up to be a control freak, in the best way possible.

She and my dad met through my grandmother when they were fourteen. By fifteen they'd accepted that eventually, they would end up together- it would be good for both businesses- but it wasn't until my father had embarked on his own business plan age 21 and have it explode into a billion dollar industry that they decided to stop dallying and tie the knot. I was born two years later. It surprises people, I think. That they were so happy together. For all intents and purposes, it was pre- arranged, and they would have had to make the best of it, whatever happened. But they were both two quite attractive people who happened to have a lot in common. Why shouldn't it have worked? They were friends, at least. More than I can say for some of the nouveaux riche, romantic couples who were supposedly 'in love'.

She brought Lennox and Catherine home after Catherine had had her baby. A blonde devil child, Abigail. I loved her. They were part of an Irish nomadic culture. Travellers they were called. They came to the house every week and we would sit and just talk. They were quite blunt. The first time I met Lennox, he looked at me and told me I looked like a marshmallow. I admit to being a fat, lazy child with a fondness for sugar. I didn't mind it though- I almost preferred it to the elegant, politically correct frippery everybody I met spouted. I was well versed in this.

Telling the truth, I had little experience in.

Lennox and Catherine moved the year after. They were told that Abigail could not attend the same school I did. In the weeks before, both my mother and father had had the director of education over to tea. It was a long lunch. Nobody was exactly comfortable. I remember after a while he started to get angry. Uncomfortable. His eyes never settled.

"Travellers aren't the same as normal children," he'd said. "They're wild and troublesome and dress improperly. They will simply be a disruption to the other children's learning and I cannot accept that."

My parents stared at him blankly. He left not fifteen minutes later and I never saw him at the house again. Although when I was walking through the park, I did see a hot dog vendor who bore an uncanny resemblance to the man. Regardless, it was the first time I'd ever seen such blunt rejection of a person before. It made me angry, frustrated. It was years before I could give a name to an attitude. Discrimination; it truly is an ugly thing.

Its what made me aware. Of the way Society behaved. How they'd perfected the art of staring down ones nose and looking at all as though they were merely the dust and dirt beneath their perfectly polished designer shoes. If being from 'Money' meant I had to treat Abigail like that, I wanted no part of it.

My mother was torn. She liked having money and wealth and prestige. Who wouldn't really? But the fact was, she could not be one of them, and do her job properly. It wasn't possible. So she hated it, and hated her peers and hated herself too. Not that she ever showed it. Mother? She'd rather die than appear weak in public.

"If you'll recall, I made good on that."

I rolled over on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Dropping the pen and ignoring my homework for a while.

"Why are you thinking about me? You've enough time to do that in school- now you need to study. So get to it."

I ground my teeth. Annoyed. Kind of tired, and still wondering if tomorrow's Host Club meeting would go well. The horses had arrived and the room had already been decorated with the sunflowers- red and yellow- the boys had already been fitted for the costumes and lunch had been arranged according to the specific needs of the clients. So why was I worried?

I'll tell you why. Because if anything went wrong, it would be my head Kyoya would have. No doubt about it. God, he was like a shark. He'd make my life as miserable and hellish as possible, and smile while doing it too.

A soft knock drew me away from my morbid musings.

"Come in." I called. The door opened softly and the silhouette of a tall stately person cast itself across my bedroom floor. I sat up and blinked. "Kyoya?" He looked at me, considering. Then shifted and nodded.

"Your father called, he left a message."

"What did he say?" I asked, anticipating... something. Good news, bad news. I didn't really care. As long as he was okay.

"The Hospital project is going well, he sends his affection and has also opened you an bank account here were you to need it. He has emailed you the details and it should all be ready to use by next Tuesday at the latest." He said all this brusquely, matter-of-factly.

"Okay," I nodded, filing the information away. "The florist called," I informed him. "She was calling about valentines day. You'd ordered flowers?"

He leaned against the doorjamb. "Yes, is there a problem?"

"Not exactly," I shrugged. "She just didn't know what kind of flowers you wanted."

He raised a single brow elegantly. "Aren't roses traditional on valentines day?" I looked at him.

"Traditional, of course. But also very boring. I think we- you should try something different." I corrected myself quickly. I wasn't in the Host Club. Officially anyway. I just sort of threw myself into their affairs. I fully expected him to dismiss the idea so I was very surprise when he casually folded his arms and said "Go on."

I swallowed. "Well... everybody does roses. They're nice- but for God's sake, you have them everywhere. They won't be that special by the time it comes to valentines day. In fact, I'd forgo the flowers altogether and give the girls something like... I don't know, a small teddy bear? Personal messages from the boys? Just, something different."

His eyes were completely and utterly unreadable. "I'll look into it." He said finally. "Are you aware of the coming trip the Host Club are arranging?"

"Of course," I smiled a little. "Within Japan, for Haruhi's sake, yes?"

"Astute." I think he almost rolled his eyes. "But yes, I'd like you to accompany us." I looked up in surprise. "I don't expect you to enjoy an empty house overmuch, regardless of my sister's presence and I could use some assistance arranging accommodation at the hotel and such."

I was being brought because I was useful? I almost smiled. It was something his father would have done. It was something my father would have done.

"I'd be happy to Kyoya," I smiled.

"Good, I've already booked you a room." My face faulted. He'd been so sure I'd say yes?

"Oh, that's... convenient."

"Quite. And Melinda?" His tone changed slightly. I straightened my back reflexively.

"Yes Kyoya?"

"You may not be aware of it, but in Japan there are certain honorifics you use in conjunction with a person's name. Like Mr. or Mrs. It would be wise of you to learn and use them before the trip." He said, quite pleasantly, but dangerously all the same. I blinked, a little scared. What was the first male honorific that came to mind? Um...er.... come on, think. Watching all that anime should've been useful for something. I smiled, confident I had it now.

"Sure Neesan." I smiled beatifically.

He looked at me, face twitching.


"Girls, if you would, form an orderly line and exit the plane. There are three cars waiting below us. Please take your time as the stairs may be unstable." I ushered the twenty lucky girls chosen out of the plane and surveyed the airstrip myself. The boys had already filled one of the larger vehicles and were lounging carelessly all over the place. I adjusted my sunglasses and walked down myself, muttering to myself about stupid boys who left me with all the work.

Haruhi, ever sensitive offered his help quite sincerely actually. But one look at Hikaru, or Kaoru- I'm not sure which yet- made me rethink and gracefully decline.

"Are you sure?" He asked, sweetly actually. I felt my neck heat and swore inwardly. He really was kind of... cute.

"Yeah, it's fine. Don't worry about it at all." I smiled and turned back to fetch my handbag out of the baggage carrier before following the giggling troupe of girls into the... limo. Really, Kyoya.

It was in the middle of unpacking that I realized I had forgotten a very important item of clothing. In fairness nobody packs for Japan and thinks 'swimwear' but whatever. There ought to be a shop somewhere. I wasn't overly concerned about anything except the sheer amount of skin I'd be forced to show. Not that I was too self-conscious about my body. Usually. Its just, I was quite sure that all of these girls followed some kind of dietary or training plan or other.

I'd fired my personal trainer two weeks into the job when I wa fourteen. I draw the line at someone calling me 'ugly' in order to motivate me into getting into shape. God.

I got dressed anyway. Shorts and a floaty blouse my mother and I had designed way back when. She'd gone through a sewing phase. It was quite nice actually. Not exactly 'this season', but nice. I perused my appearance skeptically, tucking a lock of red-brown hair behind my ear. My mother's eyes stared back at me. I would do.


I was swimsuit shopping when I saw her. She was standing not five feet away from me, staring awkwardly at the bra rack and sifting through it as though she had no idea what she was doing. She was tall-ish, a boyish frame. Short hair. Large brown eyes that kind of reminded me of...

"- Haruhi?" She stared at me in shock, face going white. That's what clinched it. If she wasn't... him, she wouldn't have responded to his... her name.

Wait, what?

I blinked at the female... Yes definitely female person in front of me and tried to decide whether to faint, laugh or scream. In the end, I did the former two. Giggling weakly. "You're a... I don't know if you noticed but, you have boobies Haru- "

I'm told my eyes rolled back and I crumpled like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Quite honestly, I have no recollection of that whatsoever.