Sorry for being gone for so long. I'm worried this story may not even have an audience anymore. But, here's another update, if there's anyone left D: Again, super sorry. I've just been extremely busy. I can't make promises, but I'll definitely try to update faster.

Anyways, enjoy (:


"You just get curiouser and curiouser." Quill mumbled to himself, citing a quote from a children's book as he watched Kaoru go through another nightmare. It was different every night. Sometimes, he'd yell out in his native tongue. Yet, there were those rare instances when he suffered in silence. It wasn't very different from when he was awake.

This was one of the screaming nights.

"Wake him up, will you?" Bernadette urged.

"Not just yet. Wait a few moments." Quill stated.

Kaoru then began to shout a string of words, which were still in Japanese.

"Oh, for God's sake, Quill-" she started, but he shushed her as he concentrated.

"Help…help…" Quill whispered to himself, "It's coming for me. Help…"

Bernadette stopped, finally realizing that Quill was doing his best to translate. His Japanese wasn't brilliant, but he was picking up key phrases.

"Oh God…Oh God…." Quill began to write it down.

She couldn't bear to hear Kaoru suffer any longer, so avidly, she hissed, "Wake up."

"No! He hasn't ever said this much before." he countered.

"You've done this before?"

Her shrill yelling woke Kaoru up. He sprang up violently, gasping for air, his eyes looking around the room nervously. When he realized where he was, he grinned sheepishly at the two worried people in front of him.

They all went back to sleep eventually, except for Quill. Because he noticed that Kaoru had said something different tonight. He had not said he was coming for me, but rather it was coming for me.

What could have been so horrible that Kaoru no longer recognized it as a human being?

The next morning

"Well, isn't this nice." Hikaru commented as he looked at all the bikini models walking around.

"Yes, it is." Kaoru said, whistling as a few attractive men walked by.

Haruhi rolled her eyes at the spectacle that was the twins. Out of all the places in the universe to bring them, Kyoya and Bernadette conjured up a modeling studio.

"Wow, that dress is so gorgeous!" gushed Zebra as she saw an amazon of a woman walk by in high-heels, in a long flowing blue dress.

"That, my friend is a Hitachiian original." boasted Hikaru, "I was there the day my mother designed it."

"Stop gawking, Zee. It won't fit you." Quill muttered.

"I bet my fist can fit up your-"

Just then a very clean cut man walked into the room with such a presence that everything going on in the lobby was hushed. He put on a charming smile, and regarded the group through black, thick-rimmed glasses. His suit was made out of the finest cotton and silk, his dress shirt's collar fashioned out of chiffon.

He put one hand in the air, as if signaling someone. Instantly, a team of people with clipboards ran up to him.

"Mrs. Myles called today. She thanked you for inviting her to the wedding." said one of the assistants.

"I'm just glad she could make it. She missed my other five." he noted, and then told the assistant she could leave.

In turn, the other people all delivered their messages and he dismissed them accordingly. There was only one person left who was taking up his time. She was standing in direct line of Hikaru and Kaoru Hitachiian.

And then the man made a mistake. One simple mistake that would cost him everything one day. He looked over her shoulder. He looked one of the Hitachiian's in the eye. Instantly, he turned as white as sheet rock. Shakily, he pointed one hand at the offender.

"Out!" he ordered, "Get him out of here!"

The woman looked over her shoulder and met eyes with the Hitachiian.

She calmly walked over and addressed him.

"I'm sorry, but you appear to have caused an upset. I'm going to have to ask you to leave." she said politely.

A few incidents later, the assistant called the man, the all famous Mr. Tetras, on the phone.

"Yes, Delilah?" he asked.

"Sir, there's a problem." she said, and he could hear shuffling going on around her, and then her saying, "No, you can't! You're not allowed. I'm warning you-"

"What's the issue?" he asked, sighing.

Just then, a dark-haired adolescent, as well as the red-head from earlier, and a twin entered his office.

Fearfully, the assistant also made her way into the office.

"Well, sir," she started, "there's two of them."

After Kyoya took the liberty to explain the situation, Mr. Tetras stared from behind his desk, shell-shocked.

"So," he said tiredly, "He had sons."

Hikaru and Kaoru often wondered why people always reacted that way.

"I apologize for being so rude earlier. I-I had thought I was seeing a ghost." Mr. Tetras leaned over to touch Hikaru's face, as if to make sure he was real. Hikaru, instinctually, smacked his hand away.

"Phenomenal." he whispered, hints of a Swedish accent emerging, the same one he had tried to hide since he was a child.

"So," Kyoya asked, breaking his trance, "Do you have any leads of where he could have gone?"

"I've been asked that so many times." Mr. Tetras started, warily, "I was one of the main suspects. Back when they thought it was a murder."

"And?" Kaoru asked.

"Catch up with the times, dearie. No one would have wasted the energy to kill him. The man was a hollow shell. An addict." smugly, he leaned over to directly address the twins, "He was as good as dead."

Five minutes later

Mr. Tetras was holding a tissue up to his bloody nose, howling in pain, as Hikaru got forcefully escorted out of the office, along with Kyoya, and Kaoru.

"Did you see him? He had such a smug look on his face. Well, he won't look as handsome with a crooked nose." Hikaru reasoned.

"Why must you be so rash?" Kyoya asked.

"No. He did the right thing. That man deserved it." Kaoru smiled at Hikaru, "The proud bastard."

Quill was in the middle of nicking food from the snack bar when he was also forcefully dragged out. Zebra was flirting with one of the models (who was so not into her) when she was taken. Mori had to be escorted out in hand-cuffs, considering he kicked the guard's ass when he tried to lay a hand on Honey.

Bernadette left willingly. She knew it was a bad idea from the beginning.


Haruhi had been waiting outside anyhow, giving Tamaki directions on how to get there. But then the rest of the Host Club was kicked out of the building.

"Nevermind. Tell the taxi man to go back to the hotel." she sighed.

"So, did you guys find out anything?" Haruhi asked.

"No." Hikaru said, disappointedly.

"I beg to differ." Bernadette said, holding up a flash-drive.

Everyone looked at her, surpised. How…?

"God, you're brilliant. I could kiss you!" Kaoru exclaimed.

"Don't." she said, her face screwed up in disgust, "Germs."


Bernadette read over all she could find on the flash-drive. While everyone was busy fussing about, she had talked to one of Tetras's secretaries. Because everyone knows the secretary knows things that can ruin their boss's life, considering people often forget they're human.

It took about five minutes of small talk and the information was practically hers.

But what really had her going was what exactly Paul Spector did to piss Ben Tetras off.

"He damaged his face." Bernadette mumbled to Kyoya.

"What?" he said. He was at the one desk available in the suite while Bernadette was on the floor of his hotel room, laptop in front of her whiles he was stomach down, typing away. Because he insisted on needing a desk to work while she could work in the midst of a hurricane if the situation called for it.

"Paul Spector damaged Ben's face. Spector was high, and he crashed a car, which led to Tetras getting a scar on his face." she elaborated.

"But his face looked just fine." Kyoya reasoned.

"It says here that Ben spends thousands of dollars on make-up supplies a year. But people have simply assumed it was for his wife, Deborah." she explained.

Kyoya was getting the magnetitude of what Bernadette was, and resisted the urge to jump up and down.

That would explain why Ben gave up being a model when he was reaching the height of his career. No one wanted to work with damaged goods...

"So, that explains why he hates him so much. But what does that have to do with it?" Kyoya asked.

"Ben had mailed out an official order to a man named Thomas Berry. By day, he's the multi-millionaire in charge of-"

"Berry Industries, I know. We do business with them. All I have to do is drop the Ootori name and we'll be given VIP passes. But what has he got to do with it?" Kyoya asked. But, then realization dawned on him.

By day, Berry was a successful business man. But by night, he was a hitman. How did Kyoya know? Because his father had put in an order a few times himself, and had bribed Kyoya to look the other way.

"So, he orders Berry to kill Spector. So, Paul Spector was killed by Berry. Case-closed." Kyoya reasoned.

"Not case-closed. Because the job was never finished. A few days later, Mr. Tetras got a letter from Mr. Berry. It starts off saying this:

Dear Mr. Tetras,

Paul Spector escaped. I have no clue where he's gone. I have my best men working to find him as we speak. Don't worry. We will find him, I assure you. But in the meantime, out of good faith, I must return the deposit check you have given me. I'll contact you as soon as I can.

Kyoya shook his head, "That doesn't make sense. From what I've heard, Paul wasn't some expert in disguise...but Berry was."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Bernadette asked.

Just then a mass erupted from the sheets that were tangled up on Kyoya's head, saying,"Bloody hell! Berry's hiding Spector!"

Bernadette yelped, and Kyoya flinched before regaining his composure, "I thought I said you weren't allowed in here while us professionals are busy at work."

"I know, I know." said Zebra, "But you two are so secretive. Plus, I just helped you deduce something. Now, what are we waiting for? Let's go beat this Thomas Berry fellow with a stick until we get some answers."

Kyoya sighed and Bernadette began making phone-calls.


Quill gazed on with a big smile as he faced the group of people before him. He had pulled a few strings and gotten them to all meet him at the mall that day.

He found himself keen on helping Kaoru and Hikaro. Not just because he owed a debt, but because he found them to be peculiar.

He was used to two kinds of people: rich and happy, and poor and broken. These twins; these devils, they seemed to be a mutt of some sort; a hybrid of both.

They represented the rich and the broken—a new concept to Quill, who grew up believing money could cure everything.

A small, naive part of him still did.

"A phobia of the rich" Bernadette had so tastefully put it. In actuality, he had a phobia of the fortunate, the happy, and the boasting.

Being rich had nothing to do with it.

"Thank you all for coming. I have gathered you all here today because a recent case has been brought to my attention. We're all familiar with the case of Paul Spector."

The group of people collectively groaned. Leave it to Quill to waste everyone's time.

"No, no. Stop it, you guys. Don't give me the stink eye, Brian."

Brian waved his cane at the rebellious youth.

Compared to Brian, Quill might as well have been five years old, considering Brian was eighty-five.

Because Quill had recruited at a place where people went to die. He had recruited at a nursing home.

"You, of all people, should know what I'm trying to do here! Can't you see?" he asked, incredulously. He looked them all in the eye.

"Just because something is old, and in the past, doesn't mean it should be forgotten." he memorized every line and crease in each of their faces, every scar on every piece of visible skin. Society had let them slip through the cracks, "I haven't given up on any of you. So, please, for the love of God, don't give up on Paul Spector."

They were speachless. One woman, Regina, who had a severe case of arthritis, used all of her strength to clap for the remarkable young man. The rest of them followed suit.

Hikaru and Kaoru stood amazed at how Quill bent a whole crowd of people to his will with mere words. It was funny. One could compare him to the one thing he hated most: the politician.

But the difference between a politician and Quill is that every word Quill says is sincere.

"So, considering our little search party is about seventeen years late, I suggest we start off with something simple, re-hanging up posters." He handed the posters out to the crowd.

They were digitally remastered, and had two pictures: one of how Paul looked when he was last scene, and one of how he might look in current times.

"We'll find him." Quill promised the twins, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. He surprised at how hung up he had gotten about it.

A small part of him felt the battle was personal. Because he was the kind of person who society had given up on, too.

It was some last-ditch effort to show society that he could not be written off as some criminal, bound to rott in prison for being different.

He wasn't down yet. He'd go out fighting.


A/N: I'm apologizing for a second time. Super sorry! Also, my worry is that Quill is coming across as some perfect do-gooder. Which is why it needed to be demonstrated in this chapter that the reason he does what he does is because of a screwed up, neglected child-hood, and sometimes he does what he does for selfish reasons. That's basically a summation. Just know this: I can't write perfect people. So, if a character ever comes across as that I'm not executing my writing clearly enough.

Thanks again for reading. And remember: We're all people. All of us. We all have pasts, and we all have futures.

Sincerely,

Your New Best Friend