I do not own Ouran High School Host Club or any partaining characters or places.

Bes night of my life last night! I am in a GREAT mood, so two chapters for you!

Hey, is Ikita a Mary Sue? I hope not... maybe a bit, huh? Sorry, but the whole stary is finished already, so... She is kind of liek Haruhi, so if Haruhi was a Mary Sue, then I guess Ikita is, too. Sorry, once again.


Ikita sighed as she trudged into her room, peeling her dirty yellow dress from her body. Her first day of working for Kyoya had been tiring, but she had struggled to put on a smile the entire time. When the girl's had finally left she had to stay to clean while the Host club had been able to go home. She was happy that Hunny-sempei had taken his time to come and say good-bye, and offer his help, but the red head had to refuse it. She wanted to prove to Kyoya that she could hold her own while she was there, but thanked Hunny anyway for his offer. Takashi, too, apparently, who's help was offered by Hunny.

Now she was home, finally. The bus's had been emptier than usual, after her ride home on a regular basis right after school. Keito wasn't home again, either, which annoyed her.

Ikita decided she didn't have any where else she needed to go that night so she pulled on her pajama's and went out into the kitchen to make dinner. She was rather tired of the kitchen after that day, but knew she couldn't survive particularly well without food.

She was surprised when there was a knock on the door before she could even begin. Ikita glanced down at her pajama's, feeling a little foolish for not thinking of having someone visit. Said visitor knocked on the door once again in an agitated manner.

The red head quickly rushed to the door, pulling it open. She was surprised, once again, to find her neighbor on the other side. He lived with his mom and younger sister's in room 218, but didn't come over often. He had gone to the same school as Ikita had before she had transferred to Ouran. She had talked to him once in a while, but that stopped as soon as she left for her new school.

He was a handsome boy, with messy black hair that fell over his right eye, that of which was bright blue. The left eye was a pretty green, slightly streaked with brown. He had high cheek bones and a narrow chin, and he was tall. Not as tall as Takashi of course; maybe just a tad shorter than Ootori-san.

One more thing; he was sort of the bad boy type. He didn't get good grades, though Ikita was almost sure he had the potential to ace almost all of his classes if he tried. He was a tennis champ, though, and Ikita had witnessed him go to the country regional's. She was sure that he lost on purpose, just so he didn't have to deal with the publicity. He was a prodigy for tennis, truly one of the best. Ikita looked up to him in a way.

He had a habit of staying out of the way. He liked to sit in the back of the class and ignore other people more of. And the red head would be lying if she said she didn't have a crush on him, because she did. She had more of a crush on him than she had ever had with any other boy in her life.

"Oh, hey Hiroto. How are you?" Ikita asked, smiling up at him. Hiroto grunted and shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing at her pajama's. Ikita blushed and ducked her head slightly.

"Someone left you a message." Hiroto tossed her a folded piece of paper. "Came by earlier."

Ikita caught the paper, almost falling over in the process and held it up before her, staring at it for a moment. It took her a second to realize that Hiroto had disappeared. She peeked her head out of the door way.

"Thanks-"

But her reply was cut short as he slammed his door. Ikita winced, sighed, and pulled herself back into her apartment, closing the door behind her. She unfolded the piece of paper, standing in the middle of the front entrance, the rustling of the neatly folded square coming undone the only sound in the quiet. Ikita looked down at the words on the page, recognizing Hiroto's messy, slanted scrawl.

Ikita,

Call 467-8769

Mokoito

Ikita blinked. She recognized the name, very easily, and the number, too. She wondered how her friend Moko' figured she would call her when she had no phone and close to no money. The red head sighed, finally, and went back into her room to change into decent clothes quickly, annoyed in slight that she had to actually go out so late, and still without dinner. She pushed the emotion aside, though, and grabbed some change before leaving to go to the pay-phone just outside of the apartment building.

Ikita slid the change into the slot and quickly dialed her friends number, holding the phone to her ear. The booth was very familiar to her. She remembered when she was much younger and her brother would play hide-and-seek with her. She almost always hid in the phone booth, at least until she learned how her brother managed to find her so quickly. When she got older she would come into the small space to think. One time she drew the phone booth for art class, when the object was 'comfort.' Her teacher had given her a strange look and only a 84 percent for the idea, but she understood, and ended up hanging the work on her wall with tape. Her brother had been very proud of the B, even though she got A's on the usual occasion. She loved that about her brother; he was so happy about so many things, no matter how crazy he was at times.

The phone on the other end stopped ringing, and the voice of an older woman filled the receiver of the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi. This is Ikita, is Mokoito there?"

"Oh, yes!" Ikita could hear the smile in her words. She called out to her daughter, as far as Ikita guessed because it was muffled by the woman's hand, and there was some muffled crying out, and a thump of her friend most likely falling over, and then there was a new voice on the phone, accompanied by labored breathing.

"Ikita! I thought you would never call me again! I miss you so, so much, do you know that? I was so worried that you would never call back, that you would never, ever come and see me! So I dropped by today, but you weren't home! Are you going off with new, rich friends! You've replaced me, haven't you?"

Ikita sighed. Why was everyone she knew so dramatic beside's Hiroto? She shook her head, before cutting off Mokoito on her most likely never-ending rant.

"I haven't replaced you, Moko."

"How will I know for sure? I bet you're lying!" Mokoito cried out, and Ikita could almost hear her mothers exasperation.

"What did you stop by for again?" Ikita asked, taking control of the conversation.

"I was worried, I told you that. We have to do something together. We just have to! There will be no exceptions. Do you understand?"

Ikita laughed; she couldn't help it! Moko almost sounded like a mother.

"Yes, I do, Moko."

"Good. This weekend, then. We'll go to the mall, and have so much fun! I wont let you down, Ikita. I promise! It'll be the best time of your life. And you have to tell me all about your new school-"

"I'll see you Sunday, Moko." Ikita cut in. Mokoito didn't seem to hear her.

"and all of your new friends, and the people you have a crush on, and-"

Ikita hung up, sighed, and ran a hand through her hair before stepping out of the both and heading inside. Her friend was crazy, she was sure. But now she had to eat something or she was sure she would die of hunger.

Ikita was sure, that under different circumstances her intellect would have found it rather plainly difficult to comprehend the exact phenomenon going on inside of the room given the name music room three. These were not different circumstances, however, and therefore she would be forced to admit that she was sure, almost one-hundred percent sure that Kyoya had done this just to kill her, or make her miserable. The latter was more likely realistically.

The room was covered in plant life, and was relatively warm, but not uncomfortably so. The Host club was decorated lavishly in what Ikita presumed was 'jungle wear' in their perspective. The outfits left each person to be dressed rather skimpily, other than Haruhi. 'He' was still wearing his regular uniform. Hunny ran forward from his table as Ikita stepped into the room. He laughed with glee, grasping Ikita's hand.

"Don't you just love this, Ki-chan? The plants are wonderful! Kyo-kun had them all shipped in from the real jungle." Hunny nodded, happy that he could provide helpful information. He led Ikita to his table, watching as she looked around at all of the green.

"This just means I have a lot of dirt to sweep up," Ikita grumbled, looking a little annoyed. She noticed Hunny frowning and sighed, before flashing him a smile. "Sorry, Hunny. It is nice, isn't it? From the real jungle, right?" Hunny nodded. "They look so exotic."

Hunny grinned and pulled out a chair for Ikita, who sat down and thanked him while he sat in his own chair.

"I look so cute in my shorts, don't I, Ki-chan?"

Ikita looked down at Hunny, just now noticing that he was wearing shorts. He had muscles, too, which surprised her, especially with how small he was.

"I guess so." It was rather insensitive. Ikita hardly had a chance to think how much it might hurt Hunny to hear her say that.

"Ikita."

Ikita didn't know how, but without yelling and without electronic help Kyoya had managed to get his voice to travel all the way across the room. She blinked, before standing and shooting an apologetic look to Hunny.

"Sorry, Hunny-sempei." She walked away without looking back, towards Kyoya.

Hunny stared after her, wide eyed. Takashi stood behind him, looking after her as well with a rather emotionless look.

"She guesses so, Takashi." Hunny sniffled. He buried his face in his bunny, bursting into tears. Takashi looked down at the blond, blinking.

"Calm down."

Hunny looked up, his face as wet as his bunny, and sniffed.

"Yeah. Sorry, Takashi." Hunny gave another wistful look back at Ikita who was raising her eyebrow at Kyoya, giving him a tiny amused smirk as he explained what she was supposed to do for the second time. Kyoya was looking to be rather frustrated with her, glaring harder than he had ever glared at anyone else before. Yet there she was, smiling away just to spite the poor boy.

"Wait, could you repeat that last part? I don't think I caught it." Kyoya glared, light flashing against his glasses, but he knew that Ikita wouldn't back down. He was very surprised with how stubborn she had turned out to be, and she was making him continue to repeat himself. He was done; he didn't want to deal with her anymore. He was sure, given one more second he would strangle her to death.

"You know very well what I said. Now get to work."

Ikita batted her eyelashes, giving him a purely innocent look. He was really starting to hate how easily she could piss him off, and that look only made it worse. She had only known him for three days and already she very easily pushed his buttons. He didn't know what he had done to get himself his own personal Hell compacted into a single and rather small girl, but he had done it.

"But I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

That was it.

"If you don't shut up and get to work I swear to god I will not hesitate to-!" Kyoya's voice thundered through the room, and he cut himself off just in time to see the grin growing on the girl's face. He hated her. He hated her with all of his being, and he would if only because she had managed to make him lose his cool. There was only one other time he had burst out like that, and it was because of Tamaki. He had hated that boy then, too. But he knew that this time was different. There was no way he would ever be able to like this girl. She made him crack, and in public. She was Hell. All of it, and sent if only for him.

The rest of the Host club was staring. Everyone had become quiet, and Ikita was whimpering. He looked down at her, almost sure he had made her cry, but no. She was laughing. She had the audacity to be laughing. At him.

Kyoya almost snapped again, almost wrapped his fingers around her neck and strangled every last bit of life out of her. And then he heard the twins stifling giggles, too, and damned them to Hell. Damned them all to Hell.

Kyoya forced himself to stand strait, having found that he was leaning over her. He hated that smirk on her face, and her hand went up to her mouth as if to keep her laughter locked away in her mouth.

"S-sorry… Kyoya…" Ikita giggled, quickly took a shaky breath. The laughter did not leave her eyes. "I'll g-get to work. Right a-away."

Kyoya was not a fool. He felt like one, sure, but he knew that he was not one, not in the slightest bit. As she watched her slowly turn around and walk to the back room to prepare for the day of Hosting, he knew that the little episode she produced with only a few easy words on her part was pay-back for bringing the plants into the room, and for the major clean-up it would require afterwards. That was the point in which he promised war. He would win the war, even if he lost the battle that he had been a part of only moments ago.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before grabbing his note-book and jotting down a few notes. He had a lot more days such as this planned, and he would be inducing them soon. Evil plan's circulated his head as he made his way to his seat. Ikita would pay for what she had done, and she would pay dearly.

He thanked whatever was kind out there that she hadn't made him do that in the middle of their Hosting hours. His father would hear about it, and would lose his chances entirely of becoming the Ootori heir. And only because of the possibility that it could have been, he hated her guts.

Ikita came out of the back room, carrying several cakes to bring to Hunny as she figured he would want. She had witnessed more than enough his cake addiction the day before, and she was not about to leave him cake-less, afraid he might try and eat the table. She almost giggled at her own thought, but just smiled instead as she came up behind Hunny and Takashi.

"Hi, Hunny-sempei."

Hunny spun around and smiled up at Ikita, hanging onto the back of his chair. His bright brown eyes were wide and seemed to sparkle with happiness.

"Hi, Ki-chan!" Hunny seemed to brighten like a light when Ikita set the cake down in front of him. "Oh, yummy! Strawberry!" Hunny plucked the strawberry off the top his cake and went to toss it into his mouth. He stopped, when he thought of something, and blushed, setting it on his plate. Ikita gave him a curious look. "Um, Ki-chan?"

"Yes, Hunny-sempei?" Ikita tilted her head, curious as Hunny didn't look up at her, instead of at his lap, or maybe his hands, as they were set in his lap.

Hunny looked up at her then, still blushing but completely sincere.

"Do you want the strawberry?"

There seemed to be a sudden silence in the room, that of which Ikita was blissfully unaware of. She smiled and nodded, picking up the strawberry and plopping it in her mouth. Hunny grinned and seemed to sit up a little straighter as Ikita thanked him. Takashi watched silently, quiet and knowing. Tamaki was staring wide eyed and gape mouthed, making him look rather disrespectful. The twins glanced at each other. Haruhi just kind of… blinked.

"Do you want any tea, Hunny-sempei, before I go?" Ikita smiled, her hands folded in front of her. She was completely unaware that there was supposed to be some kind of silence in the room.

"Sure, Ki-chan!"

"Alright." Ikita turned to leave, before frowning and looking up to Takashi. "How rude of me. I've been completely ignoring you, haven't I?" Ikita laughed and scratched the back of her head rather boyishly. "Do you want anything, Morinozuka-san?"

"Mori."

Ikita blinked. That was the first time she had actually heard Takashi talk. She was very surprised at the deepness in his voice and the simplicity in his words.

"Uhm… I don't know what that is."

Hunny laughed and jumped up, throwing his arms around Ikita's waist. He looked up at her surprised face, grinning happily.

"He means to call him Mori, Ki-chan! Everyone does, well, besides me." Hunny giggled and Ikita laughed. He was so short, only came up to about her chin, but he was so cute. Wonderfully childlike.

"Alright, would you like anything Mori-san?" Ikita smiled. Takashi shook his head and Ikita shrugged. Hunny let her go as she turned and walked away. He wouldn't tell anyone how wonderful he thought she smelled, because he was afraid someone else might try to smell her except for him. It was like strawberries. He didn't feel so much like a fool for giving up his strawberry, either.

Ikita groaned as Kikura rambled on and on about one thing or another, but she wasn't listening to that. She was thinking about the horrible head-ache that had invaded her head-space. She hadn't been in a good mood all day, and her head-ache just seemed to be getting worse and worse and worse. She wanted to go home and sleep.

It had been three days since Kyoya had the stupid plants in the third music room. Ever since she had humiliated him in front of the rest of the Host club. He hadn't said anything else to her, and now it was Friday, finally. She just wanted to go home. And she had to go to the accursed Host Club after school.

Kikura hadn't been able to go lately, but that day she was particularly excited to be there. Ikita was not, however. She knew that Kikura wouldn't leave her alone, and she already had to deal with her head-ache being as bad as it was.

Her brother was often gone in the afternoons and didn't get home until very late, but wouldn't say a word about what he was doing, which was very frustrating. She was hoping that he would just be done and over with it, and quickly, because she was starting to get seriously curious.

The bell rang, jarring Ikita out of her thoughts and back into her immense pain. She winced, but Kikura just grinned.

"Can I come with you today, please! It is so unfair that you can just go right in while I have to wait for the club to start." Kikura pouted, but Ikita just scoffed and rolled her eyes. She wasn't exactly in the mood.

"Kikura, for the last time. You're not aloud." Ikita shot her a stern look and Kikura sighed.

"Fine. I'll just wait for the club to open all by myself." Kikura feigned sadness, but Ikita ignored her and quickly left, walking swiftly to the third music room, trying to ignore her pounding headache.

As she stepped into the room she felt a little more agitated than usual. There was no big mess she was sure she'd have to clean up, but there was just something about the way the Host club seemed to be standing around annoyed her to no end. It was upsetting her that such a simple head pain was getting her so high strung, but she could hardly help it.

"Ki-chan!"

Ikita gasped as a blond blur launched itself at her, wrapping it's limbs around her. She was pushed off balance for a moment, almost toppling over, and her dress was in disarray. She gasped, trying to ignore the pounding in her head. Her headache was only getting worse.

"I missed you so much! I waited all day just to see you! I couldn't wait, because I had to tell you that I was going to get you the most perfect strawberry cake ever!"

Ikita winced, barley able to respond as Hunny jumped off of her and grabbed her hand, leading her across the room. The other day had been strange without Hunny there. Takashi's absence had hardly gone unnoticed, except by the girl's who enjoyed his presence. But now she wasn't so sure she missed the older blonds habit of being a little too loud for comfort.

"See, Ikita! Cake!"

Ikita found herself sitting. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears from the pain. She tried to convince herself it wasn't so bad, but it hurt a lot. She didn't want to snap at him, because he was sensitive, as she had found out.

"Um, Hunny-sempei…?" Ikita said quietly, but he didn't seem to hear her.

"I made sure that there were a lot of strawberries, so we could each have a lot! I wanted to share, because I remembered that you liked the strawberry I gave you!"

"Hunny-sempei?" A little louder this time. Hunny stopped, and looked at Ikita, extremely surprised to find her eyes filled with tears. He froze, trying to figure out what went wrong, if he had said anything that would have upset her, or if someone else had hurt her feelings. He wondered if he had accidentally hit a bruise she might have gotten when he jumped on her, and how she had gotten the bruise; if someone had hit her, if she had hit herself, if she had gotten the proper medical care for the wound. Or if the wound was even worse than a bruise, if maybe she had cut herself, and it she did so herself why she did, but if someone else did it why they did it and what it would take to find them and make them say they were sorry. He felt sorry, very sorry. So guilty he almost wished that he hadn't met her so he didn't have to see the tears almost spilling over her cheeks at the very moment.

Ikita bit her lip as Hunny stared, asking 'why' with his eyes. He looked so worried. She struggled to smile at him, so he wouldn't look so scared for almost no reason.

"Could you be a little quieter? I have a bit of a headache..."

Hunny sniffled, frowning.

"I'm so, so sorry Ki-chan." He murmured, almost whimpered. Ikita smiled at him, mouthed a 'thank you.' But it was too late for an apology. The tears of pain spilled over and dripped down her cheeks, splattering on the floor. Hunny wrapped his arms around her, apologizing without making a sound, moving his lips with the words over and over again.

"Ki-chan, I'll take you home, so you can rest and get better, kay?"

Ikita sniffled and Hunny winced, feeling his gut wrench. He felt too horrible for words.

"Kay."

When Hunny came back after taking the girl home to sleep he found the eyes of more than just the Host club on him. Takashi hadn't gone with, feeling it was better if he didn't, but made eye-contact with Hunny for only a moment after he stepped through the doors. The young blond put on a smile for the girl's who were waiting for him, but no one seemed to notice that he didn't eat as much cake as he used to, and he ate the strawberries with less certainty than before. Takashi wouldn't ask, but he would know, anyway. Better than even Hunny would.

It scared him, a little bit, too. Made him worry. Hunny's feelings had been changing, his moods going back and forth all week, like they had never before. It was obvious what was happening. But Takashi wouldn't say anything to anyone; it was better that way, for now.