Disclaimer I do NOT own Ouran High School Host Club or its characters/places/etc., Bisco Hatori does.

Author's Note: I apologize in advance if there are any mistakes with wordings, spelling, grammar and punctuations or if the flow and plot are unsatisfactory! I'm very extremely new at this writing thing. :)
Please, feel free to read and review! Constructive criticism is incredibly welcomed, I'm all for comments that will help me improve! (Please refrain from being blatantly rude...I'm a sensitive soul)

Chapter 7:

Haruhi wandered swiftly out the door of her bathroom, down her short hall and into the main room where she was met with the three sets of solemn and timid eyes. Upon a further glance, she noted the table full of various study materials bore additions; a box obviously tossed onto the furniture in the commotion, a white envelope and one long-stemmed rose strewn haphazardly amongst the chaos of papers and books.

She coughed to steady her voice.

"Mori-senpai, Can you help bring Nekozawa-senpai to my room?" Sighing, she closed her eyes once he nodded his compliance, bristling past her in long purposed strides. Inhaling deeply, exhaling in shuddering cleansing breaths she centered herself, blindly but comfortably maneuvering across the room to change clothes in her late father's bedroom.

When she emerged in loose dry sweats and a thin camisole, she was calmer, more resolute, but the males were a different story. Having transported the unconscious Black Magic Club president into the very bed of their -angry- beloved secret princess had stirred many emotions within them; guilt and jealousy reigning most prevalent.

She regarded them once again with clenched jaw and slit eyes, groaning low in her throat when she realized the twins had reappeared from their venture outside, probably to cool down. Hikaru returned her glare, scoffing when Kaoru jabbed an elbow into his side.

The air stayed tense and thick, traversing the short distance in silence she peeked into her room absorbing the unmoving outline, she closed the door to set on the others.

"Why are you here, again, trespassing and assaulting my house-guests?" She bit out the words, taking them all under her scrutinizing gaze and daring them to make excuses for their actions with unspoken words.

Tamaki sighed, stepping forward.

"We called but there was no answer, prince-" She jutted her palm forward and shook her head, not wanting to hear any pet-names, just facts. "We were worried so, we came over and stood at the door knocking. You wouldn't answer, so-"

"So you just waltzed in here and started throwing punches towards a guest of mine?!" She finished, furiously. Stalking closer to the group with an accusatory finger pointing at them.

"Listen, I understand if you got a little worried. I get that. How about leaving me a message, or waiting to talk to me at school or club like NORMAL friends do?" She once again looked toward the elder twin, following her gaze and nearing at an alarming rate. She reared her hand back to gain as much force, slamming her open palm across his glowering face, leaving him silently steaming with a glowing print that threatened to bruise.

"You have no right to encroach upon my life, my home, just because you have a whim." Brown eyes blazing, she paced the center of the room. "Rich or not, you own no one. I may have a debt that I'm working off, but I also have a life. I may be your friend, but I'm most certainly not an object, or a toy. I may be a girl that has a lot going on, but let me tell you one more damn thing: I've been dealing with it all myself for quite some time, even more lately and you all have not noticed anything until recently. Now, you want to come in here and physically assault the one person who noticed?"

She stopped, heaving in shallow pants, trying to catch her breath as she turned to them, angry tears threatening to spill.

"You call yourselves my friends, and yet you are so hellbent on keeping me miserable." She shut her eyes momentarily, breaking the barrier of the water-wall in her eyes, salty tears spilling in a burning trail. She hastily wiped them away. "Just... Leave. All of you."

"Haru-chan?" A small whimper escaped the boy-lolita as he fought the urge to run to the brunette, the only one who ever treated him with mature respect.

"I said leave!" Choking on the demand, she stormed her front door, swinging it open to end the conversation and waiting for them to go.

"Haruhi, before we leave," Kyoya stated coolly, masking the outrage and embarrassment he harbored from the event, he gestured with a sweeping hand at her cluttered table. "I want you to know that we brought you gifts."

Straightening his frames and throwing a menacing glance toward the older twin who was grinding his teeth and looking at his feet, he fished the envelope from the table and walked up to Haruhi holding it out for her to take.

"All of which are withstanding and completely yours to do what ever you choose to with them." She took the envelope, surprised when he cupped her small hand in his, a look more serious than she had ever seen taking place of his normally frigid exterior. "As our sincere apology for having been ignorant the entire time."

With his last sentence, his hand dropped and he disappeared through the door followed by the slow procession of the other thoroughly chastised hosts. Tamaki stopped in front of her a moment longer, his eyes dull as he gave her a small sad smile.

"I promised to never let you deal with these things alone, that night at the beach. It wasn't thunder, but it was a storm in its own way. I'm to blame for all of this, and Haruhi?" She looked into his clouded amethyst gaze with brows furrowed. "'Sorry' will never be enough to express how I feel for failing you."

His hand drew up to touch her face lightly, wiping an errant tear with the pad of his thumb, letting it rest there fleetingly before huffing sadly and walking out of the apartment.

Her hand gripped the rough wood before sliding it shut and locking it for good measure. Eyes dropping to the white parcel resting between her trembling fingers.

~O~O~

Closing his stinging eyes, he tilted his tattered face skyward, opening his third eye to the sight, for guidance and direction to that in which he wished to seek.

No sooner than he completed his motions did he hear a crashing rustle forcing him to snap into his learned defensive actions.

He groped his belted pouches, pulling out the materials with agility. He cast a circle, salted it and held his weapon ready for the impaired attack of the unpracticed fiend while repeating the words he had memorized. Words that would bind the abilities of the abomination to him. He would be invincible, powerful. The battle would be won and her hand would forever be his. Bound.

A gruff laughter shook his senses, filling the air around him, surrounding him with the sounds. It was impossible to decipher the direction from whence it came.

Narrowing his eyes, his face contorted into a wild tooth-bearing snear, he gathered his courage, harnessing his inner talent and forced it into the environment causing the world to swim hazily, stilling only in the area of his target.

The monstrosity was at him with the speed of sound, wincing with pain as the magicked circle blistered the young shaman's proctection forcefully against it's ashen skin. Billowing steam from the burning flesh filled the man's nostrils as he laughed out heartily between powerful chanting. His fingers gripped the pointed totem tightly above his head, carved by his own hands and tempered with his own life-blood, he thrust the object down.

~O~O~

Mechanically she made for the messy table to sit, fumbling with the sticky adhesive of the parcel's flap. She flopped to the ground, growing more irritated with the paper and resolved to tear into it. No one was there to judge her. She nodded to herself, sliding a pencil she found near her books under the crease, satisfaction filling her as the ripping filled her ears.

Haruhi set the pencil back down, picking through the fold to find a neatly folded parchment with the keen precise strokes of Ohtori Kyoya.

It has come to the attention of both president and vice, that you have been grieving in silent for some time. In result, we would like to extend to you freedom of your debts. Bereavement pay, if you will, since we know you won't accept otherwise.

You are fully welcome to remain in the Host Club under a modest payroll. You are a part of the 'family' after all. I hope you will accept our condolences, deepest apologies and harrowing regrets for not having noticed sooner.

Covering her gaping mouth, she read the words over and over again, then set it face down on top of an open book. Still peeved, also shocked and bewildered by her club-mates' actions she eyed the entirety of the table; the rose, most likely an addition from Tamaki, the box most likely containing cake from Hani and crumpled under the box, felt. Absently, she reached for the forsaken puppet, straightening it out and pushing to stand, stroking it with her fingers she found herself at her bedroom door.

"I hope he'll be okay." Clutching Bereznoff to her chest, gingerly she pushed the door open, staring at the boy in her bed who was now snoring softly.

'It sounds like it.' An unfamiliar voice filled her mind in a strange way, animalistic, akin to a lackadaisical feline. She looked down to the puppet pressed to her chest.

"No way." Her breathy incredulous drone incited a cackle from the felted feline divine.

'It seems you can hear me now!' A rumble of incessant purring replaced the amused chortle in her confused brain. 'I should probably watch what I say, hmm?Oh, do feel free to keep holding me like this. I'm enjoying it immensely.'

The purring intensified when she sat on the side of the mattress, unable to grasp the concept that a puppet was speaking to her. Glancing at the swollen face of Nekozawa, she realized just how off everyone's opinions of him had been.

~O~O~

"What is taking that old man so long?!" Nekozawa Isourou paced the floor in front of the grand staircase in the foyer of his parent's summer home. Having branched from an old name and equally old money, he had only seen this residence one other time in his life, at an age he could count up to on one hand, most likely.

Fierce grey eyes stared at the phone in his hand, the large blue doors and the house phone in equal shifts and growing more irritated with each pass. He fought the urge to throw the smooth device against the harder polished marble, shoving it back into the deep pocket of his cargo pants, stomping to the foot of the stairs, he sat propping his elbows on spread bent knees and holding his heated head between twitchy palms. Gripping his short brown mane, he growled.

"I'd make a better choice, quicker than that old fool."

~O~O~

"I've got a juicy secret, Papa!" Shimmering crystal blue implored him with an excited widening, her smile reaching her eyes and making her chubby cheeks protrude adorably further as she bounced around the garden gazebo holding a sturdy teapot, offering and pouring the luke-warm liquid into his outstretched cup. "Wanna hear it?"

His normally silver-streaked black hair was now covered with an ostentatious platinum-blonde wig, styled with braids, beads and pig-tails to match the bubbly toddler, he nodded to the little girl and the beads clacked together. Kirimi squealed loudly, clapping her hands before she inched in to his hunched frame, leaning sideways in attempts to be covert whispered into his ear behind a cupped hand.

"I think big-brother gots a girlfriend!" She jumped back, bounding to her seat to sip her tea, all giggles and smiles amongst the stuffed animals, flowers and tea set.

He flashed a smile at the girl, sipping at his own tea. Well, if he does... maybe this girl can help him cope with what has to be done. He may need that support. He sighed, hoping that the mystery girl would be able to look past the ritual, if Umehito were to ever mention it.

~O~O~

"Hika, what the hell were you thinking?" Kaoru grabbed his brother by the shoulders, turning him in his seat to make the boy face him. "Do you realize that she was extremely pissed and that was entirely your fault?" He poked at the hand print still blazing and yellowing on the twin's face.

Honestly, Kaoru was upset that his brother would go off like that knowing the situation was already a very sore one. He may have single-handedly ripped the girl that they both adored from their lives. Being the hot-head's other half had some serious disadvantages.

From her words, he did note that she was thoroughly aggravated with them all... She had every right to be. Every single day in class, he and his brother surrounded her. Every single day they never once cared to delve, to notice anything... off. It was a game and up until then, he had, embarrassingly enough, thought of their friend, third in their small world of two, as a toy. One that had not been taken very good care of.

His glare softened when he looked into eyes the mirror of his own. They had held a heavy hand in her hurt, together. The first to tell them apart, not only to simply state a name, but why, and even being able to tell what they were thinking or how they were feeling with just a glance. Haruhi paid close attention to those she cared for, broke the rusted lock around gates to their hearts allowing them to be happier, to let others in , and they had failed just at paying attention to her.

Kaoru dropped his hands and head into his lap, letting out heavy sigh. His elder brother turned toward the closest window, staring blankly at his reflection in the tinted glass. I deserved it. More, actually.

Hani sat across from the twins with Mori at his side, hunched over in a position matching the youngest, trying hard not to let the tears fall. He was sensitive, loved cute and sweet things, Haruhi was both in her own way. She always spoke with him like the adult he was, smiled when he put on his lolita charm and never treated him like a real child. He respected and admired that. It was refreshing to be able to have that aside from his loyal cousin. It was sweet that she would consider how he may really feel and cater to that.

Never once in their interactions did he consider her. It was all him. He was selfish, truly like a child and she took it in stride. He screwed his eyes tightly shut, feeling the familiar burn of threatening spillage that he wouldn't allow himself to free. How many times have I made Haru-chan cry with my greed?How much pain have I caused her? He bit his lip, catching a sob and letting it die in his throat.

Onyx eyes of Mori stared forward, out, observing all in the vehicle. Broad chest bubbled, boiling over from his own lack in judgement, his deficiencies and overall failure of the one he swore to protect and the cross-dressing female to which he extended that oath. His face would show no emotion other than the stony resolve, but his mind spun, wracked with the problem and searching for solution. Dropping a substantial hand between the elfin blonde's shoulder blades, he continued to tend his normal stance.

Kyoya and Tamaki took to the side-seats along the walls of the vehicle, in front of the exits of the doors. One staring at the tiny clouds in the wide blue sky pondering both everything and nothing, while the other steamed, jotting down all of his thoughts with detached air. This had been a complete failure and now it was time to formulate a way to pick up the pieces.

The ebony-haired bespectacled teen blew out a momentary sigh, pen halted above his straight-lined scribbles, unseeing. The white blended with the black strokes as he mentally fought from throwing the notebook across the car, gripping it between pale knuckles. Equally at fault for this failure, he was irate with the other member's actions. He saw red with the flashes of Haruhi wrapped in the embrace of their strange senpai, with her willingness to be there, that invaded his ever-collected thoughts. He felt frantic, unstable. How did one commoner female manage to affect me so... thoroughly?

His eyes formed slits behind the designer frames as he stabbed a violent punctuation on the sheet, and clenched his jaw. I will gather information. I will puzzle out and I will plan a solution... As I always do. The muscle surrounding his right eye twitched, he slid the glasses from their perch to rub the tension from his face with a deep exhale. I will understand you, Nekozawa-senpai, and I will make sure you fall short in every way. You don't deserve the abyssal virtues Haruhi wholly possesses.

I don't deserve her...

A single thought that no once would voice, but everyone would agree, sounded through multiple heads as the silence stretched and the limo drove onward. ...But I will keep trying.

~O~O~

'Would you be a doll and fetch me some milk? I'm quite parched.' Bereznoff mewled as she set the puppet on the nightstand next to her occupied bed. Cocking a thin brown brow at the felted facial features, she challenged the upright cursed companion.

"Um, why would I give you some milk?" She pushed her brow up further, leaning in with the actions. "You don't even have a stomach."

The pupils of Bereznoff's puppety eyes seemed to flash in the darkness of her bedroom, which she was soundlessly thankful that she placed those boards up in the windows to block the light for better sleep and sheild against thunder storms, and she just continued to stare at the felted feline.

'I absorb the energy of it!' It was a pitchy mewl full of desperation, until the puppet corrected his tone with the proper amount of frustration built within it. 'Just give it to me woman! It will help me... and Umehito.'

Growls still resounding, she went to the kitchen for a small dish to splash a little of the white fluid in. Her lip twitched and her eye ticked. I won't argue with a puppet.

'At least you know your place, darling.' Cackles filled her thoughts as the brunette deapanned to the open door of her room.

"What. The. Hell...?" Haruhi ground out between gritted teeth, letting her mind sort through the many torture methods she could think of that would be perfect for the cursed material. Smiling briefly when a little shriek filled her thoughts, knowing the puppet had seen the product of her incredibly vivid imagination.

She set the little white saucer in front of the felted companion without a word and took up position next to the sleeping boy, looking down on his painful appearance and removing the wig from his head so that she could assess any other damages. She placed the limp locks on the table, running her fingers across Nekozawa's warm scalp, through soft golden tresses satisfied when she found no cuts and no more visible bumps. She kept stroking him, though. It was a calming activity for her in which she snapped out of promptly when the felted feline heckled at her motions with a satisfied entertained meow.

'You are just as eerie as Umehito.' Bereznoff chuckled. 'He watches people from shadows, and you touch people in their sleep. It's...amusing.'

"Choke on it, puppet." She spit, glaring at the cursed doll, hiding the inkling of satisfaction deep within that she was considered in any way similar to the teen beside her.

~O~O~

Ribs of the abomination broke with the force of impact, cracking sickly. The creature snarled with an awesome roar as he fell to the ground, helpless to his surroundings. The shaman stopped speaking to watch the transition of the creature, undead to obsolete. It was fascinating. Veins which, thousands of years ago once pumped life through a beating heart, blackened with postponed decay, marking the face that was so like man in sections. Alike a human body crop, although clearly not human, the shaman would harvest. He pulled the stake from the shriveling, disintegrating chest of Saigo Kyuuketsuki, named for being the last of his kind. Last Vampire, no longer.

Resuming his words, the shaman lifted the weapon in the air above him, allowing sanguine to run the length, dripping to his own skin. Spreading bloodied lips, he brought the shaft down to taste the liquid, metallic and earthen, completing the spell.

His stomach turned in furious dibilitating knots, he fell to his knees. The droplets of crimson spread, coating his skin with the dead blood of an extinct species, spreading thin and coating him completely. Crimson turned black as the veins in which it came, absorbing clear into the blazing skin of the overwrought crippled young shaman.

"This... is... wrong!" The head of clan screamed, writhing with the white-hot pain that stabbed and scratched at his scalded flesh with unseen talons, pulling and stretching him, firing and abusing him. Just when he was on the verge, teetering consciousness and sure oblivion, the pain ended leaving him weightless. Hard-forged into a creature not undead, but powerful and alive.