Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran Highschool Host Club.

It was another normal day at the office. Haruhi, who was still considered a 'newbie', had done all the jobs no-one else had bothered to do, with a smile set on her face. It was tiring, but Haruhi put up with it.

It had been a few days since Honey's and Mori's visit, and Haruhi had noticeably taken on each job with a spring in her step and with much enthusiasm. Even the Janitor had noticed it, as he stayed behind at night eating his sandwiches as Haruhi finished her work.

"Fujioka? You're needed in Miyamoto-san's office." A serious looking secretary appeared at her desk, startling the girl as she collected the papers that fell to the floor.

"Oh, yes. I'll head there right away once I put away these papers."

The close secretary to the boss of the law firm curtly nodded, the heels of her polished shoes clacking against the scrubbed floors. Haruhi slumped back in her seat, placing the pile of papers neatly to her left, sighing slightly. She wasn't usually called into the office, and when she was, it was usually about something dire. Shrugging it off, she heaved herself up from her chair and headed towards the open door of her boss's office.

Even though the door was ajar, she knocked the door, waiting for an answer. Once she heard a faint "Come in,", she pushed the door open and walked in, her fingers intertwined as she stood in front of the wide, mahogany desk. Behind the desk stood Miyamoto, quite short compared to his secretary and to the size of his desk.

"You called, sir?"

"Do you know the reason that you're here, Fujioka?"

Haruhi shook her head, indeed wondering why she was called in. "No sir, I do not."

The short brown-haired swivelled round, firmly placing his hands on his desk. The light from the open window reflected off his glasses, and in a brief second, reminded Haruhi of Kyoya. A small frown tugged at the corner of her lips, as she remembered her friend. Ever since she learnt of Kyoya's actions back in high school, her thoughts of the dark-haired man had changed greatly.

"Well," Miyamoto began, taking a seat and crossing his legs. His secretary stood beside him, quiet and observing. "I called you in to inform you that as of now, you will be taking small cases."

Haruhi blinked slowly, his words still processing in her mind. She would be taking small cases? But… she wasn't ready! Or so she thought.

"I know what you're thinking, but you are clearly ready for these tasks. You've been doing the tasks that others haven't been bothered to do for a while now, and it's time for a change." The man stated, his gaze heavy as she stared at the girl.

"But, sir…"

Miyamoto cracked into a grin and with a dismissive wave, he told Haruhi to leave now and head home. Haruhi dumbly nodded, her face impassive as her true feelings bubbled in the side, her mind squealing with glee. Without questioning her boss, she walked to her desk and started rearranging her new file cases. Throwing on her jacket, she stooped down and writ a little note for the Janitor, apologising as she wouldn't be able to see him later tonight.

The sun was just beginning to set, giving everything a pinkish glow. The law firm doors swung shut behind her, and Haruhi took a deep breath in, enjoying the cool air. With the route to her apartment deeply embedded into her mind, resurfacing as she started making her journey to her small living area, Haruhi made a small detour into the little café, smiling as the bell tinkled above her head.

This little café was the start of everything. This little café held so much importance to her, and it would always hold such an important role. This is where she had first seen Mori, after two long years. Two very long years that Haruhi had regret. Blinded by her feelings, she had come to hate the Host Club. It was wrong, she was wrong…

During the course of the two years that she erased her presence from her friends lives and hers from theirs, she had enjoyed it and also hated, forming a bittersweet taste of victory and defeat.

Wasn't it ironic though, that the place where all of this started and where all of it still had to continue, was named Café Bittersweet…? Ironic, yes. Fate, maybe.

As Haruhi ordered her drink, right there and then, in the booth she had first saw Mori sit in, she had decided she believed in fate.

Wasn't it fate and destiny and all that, that had caused her to meet up with Mori in the first place? She knew it was just accidental, and that if she hadn't of met Mori that wet and windy night, the two years that her Dad had asked for would cease to exist. It was pure luck that had caused Mori to be the first to find the girl, but Haruhi had believed it to be fate. She was the one who heavily depended on the tall and silent man, back then in high school and even today. He was the one that made her open her eyes which where blinded by hate.

And she would be eternally grateful.

A/N: Please forgive me.

I'm terribly sorry for making you wait ages for this chapter. It's the shortest so far, but it still counts as a chapter. I had some difficulties labelling this a half chapter, so let's forget about that, shall we?

I apologise for any mistakes present, and I will get round to fix them someday.

That's all, I have to say. I hope you enjoy!

Goodbye, and until next time.