A/N: How did this chapter get so long...? O.O

I feel dizzy looking at it.

Five chapters left now after this. We're in the final stretch, as you can tell. See you next time!


I never thought there could be a worse feeling than having my whole life taken from me.

Boy, was I wrong.


Tamaki's face was in his language notebook, staring down without really seeing the words scrawled in his own neat handwriting. Somewhere beside him, Sekigawa-san was droning on about the proper and improper usage of certain words and how many students she'd had accidentally offend someone because they'd pronounced their words the wrong way. She went in and out, so Tamaki couldn't be sure where they were in the lecture. He was usually happy to attend his language classes, excited even, but not today.

Probably not tomorrow either, the way things were looking.

In fact, tomorrow would probably be even worse, because he'd have seen the girls by then, and he knew he'd have to face them no matter what. After what he'd revealed to them last night, there was no way they wouldn't want to talk. The thought of sad brown eyes crashed in again, and Tamaki shuddered. Haruhi was going to be the hardest of all to see.

Something about his body language, be it that shudder or just his general downtrodden demeanor, must have tipped Sekigawa-san off the something was wrong. Because Tamaki sure hadn't said anything about it, or anything else since he first sat down.

"Suoh-san, please pay attention," she said calmly. "Whatever's bothering you this time, it can wait until later."

Tamaki shook his head. "I only wish it could, Sekigawa-san."

She paused in her writing, glancing at him over her horn-rimmed glasses.

"More school issues, I presume?"

Tamaki shrugged half heartedly. It was really more like a twitch than anything else. There was no other way to respond to her. Telling her everything he'd told them was simply out of the question. Katsuo-san would know by the end of the night, and he'd have Tamaki's head.

"That's funny," Sekigawa-san said, breaking Tamaki from his thoughts. "Because I thought you were starting to enjoy school."

"I am," Tamaki said. "It's just… there is so much weighing down on me, I feel like it's about to collapse."

Sekigawa-san pursed her lips. "And it's eating away at you because you're afraid for the friends you've made. Afraid they'll reject you if they knew the truth or that socializing with you could put their lives at risk."

Tamaki's eyes widened. "That- that's exactly right, Sekigawa-san!"

"It's not that hard to figure out," she said, nodding. "You wear your heart on your sleeve, Tamaki-san. I know you are struggling and that makes it difficult for you to relax and be yourself."

"It really does," Tamaki said sadly.

"You probably feel like it's you against the world. You've lost everything you once knew, all the friends and family and luxury taken in an instant. And there's this powerful force out to get you that you feel you must take on alone. No one can help you fight."

"That's it!" Tamaki knew he was probably getting more excited about this than he should have, but in all the time he'd known her, Sekigawa-san had never said anything this insightful to him. He drew himself up, the chair squeaking against the newly moped floor as it was pushed back. He was grinning like a madman, a stark contrast to Sekigawa-san's blank face staring up at him. "What do I do, Sekigawa-san?"

The older woman looked at him, eyebrows knit together and lips disappearing from sight.

She shrugged. "I don't know."

Tamaki face faulted. It was like someone had literally dropped those words onto his head with the strength and force of a several bricks. He went completely white, and Sekigawa-san's reaction to his misery and woe extended to a glance in his direction and a hand waved at his abandoned seat.

"Now, sit back down, Tamaki-san. It's time for another pop quiz, this time on proper dining etiquette."

"…yes, Sekigawa-san…"


So very, very, very, very, very wrong.


Study Hall found Tamaki back in the library, his head literally in a book. He dug his forehead into the pages, wrinkling them and making his head ache. Several times, the trousers and skirts of various students entered his line of sight. They slowed as they passed, obviously stopping to stare at him. Some people whispered to each other, but no one said a word to him.

He figured they were worried, because really, who wouldn't be? Perhaps they just knew instinctually that he didn't want to be bothered. A few times, someone made like they were going to approach him, but they always backed away at the last minute. Tamaki didn't mind, though he wasn't all that happy about it either.

He didn't feel much of anything at the moment, except a cold, unending emptiness seeping through a hole in his heart. He was starting to feel strangely exposed here, amid other tables and books where people just kept on walking around like it was nothing. There was a small corner in the back of the room that was deserted. Maybe he'd go and sit there for a while.

Tamaki might really have done it too, were in not for another dark blue skirt appearing directly over him and stopping, the owner's hands on her hips.

"Senpai, can we talk?"

Tamaki's heart stopped. Of course he knew that voice right away. He'd been hearing it all night as he slept, crying and begging for help and screaming accusations at him that he was the cause of her pain because he was the one to put her in danger.

That was the Haruhi of his nightmares, but the real one standing over him didn't sound angry or terrified at all. She sounded more like she was asking him for the time. In other words, completely normal.

He must have been silent too long for her liking, because the next thing Tamaki heard was the chair opposite him being pulled out and then pushed back in by a pair of shoes on the carpet. Haruhi's bow and long brown hair was hanging before his eyes now, immobile no matter how long he stared at it. She sat there quietly, observing him. Tamaki lifted his eyes as high as his unmoving head would allow, and could just see the bottom of her frowning face.

"Shouldn't you be at class?" he asked, completely sincere and not snippy.

"It's my study period," she answered. "Fifth period is over. Didn't you hear the bell ring ten minutes ago?"

"No, I must have missed it…"

Tamaki trailed off, and continued laying there for a few seconds, under Haruhi's watchful eyes, until it sunk in.

"I MISSED IT!" He shot up and hastily grabbed his books. Shoving them back into his bag, he was too frantic to see that he was making it worse for himself by taking even more time to get ready and leave. "Oh, I can't believe this. I'm so sorry, Haruhi, I have to go!"

By now, he'd successfully packed his bag, though not well enough that he could close it. With the lid unclasped and flapping about, Tamaki raced for the door, getting halfway there when Haruhi's voice stopped him dead.

"Hey, is it okay if I walk with you?" she asked.

Tamaki froze, somehow getting his neck to twist around far enough to face her again. She was on her feet, her bag still in her grasp, having never been unpacked or put down. She wasn't near her chair anymore, but she wouldn't move any closer either. She was waiting for him to say yes.

That's what Tamaki told himself anyway.

Because she should know he could never have refused her.

When they got into the hall, everything was silent. The crowded sea of bodies and noise that he'd gotten used was gone, giving the place an eerie feel. Tamaki was immediately grateful that Haruhi had offered to come with him. Had he been alone, this quiet and solitude would have chilled him to the core. It didn't matter that he could easily see his schoolmates in their classrooms through the small windows on all the doors.

He looked down at a piece of paper stuck to his shoe, walked three more steps before pausing to remove it and toss it in a nearby garbage can. He then examined that for a few seconds. It was gray and worn from repeated washings, and had faded writing on one side with kanji Tamaki hadn't learned yet, though something told him the meaning wasn't something very polite.

He found other things to look at as they continued their trek, all so that he wouldn't have to meet Haruhi's eyes and have the conversation he'd been dreading since yesterday evening. To her credit, Haruhi hadn't tried to start one yet, but he knew that would be changing soon. She hadn't asked to follow him for nothing.

"If it's okay with you," she said. "I wanted to talk about what happened yesterday."

Though he knew it was coming, Tamaki stumbled over his words.

"What? Oh…" he gulped and stood a little straighter. "I- if you want to, sure."

He thought he saw her nod, but the movement was so quick and so tiny, he may have been mistaken. They passed a closed off room with loud sounds coming from the inside. The class must have been watching a film of some sort. Haruhi waited until they were sufficiently far from the noise to go on.

"I was thinking a lot about it last night."

"Oh?" Tamaki asked, stiffly.

"We all were," a ghost of a smile appeared on Haruhi's face. "Mei even called me to ask how she should apologize for almost exposing you so many times. I told her to just say she was sorry, but she's not really good at that sort of thing."

"She doesn't have to apologize," Tamaki answered, shaking his head. "I'm not angry."

"Well, she'll be happy to hear that…"

The conversation came to a halt there. Tamaki wondered if they were still on the way to his class, or if they'd just been walking down the same two halls in a big circle all this time. There was nothing on the walls that could distinguish one from another, and no numbered lockers for him to count either. That he might actually reach his class any minute now was even worse.

"Is there more?" He asked finally.

Haruhi, who must have been lost in thought, started slightly and looked at him. She had that adorably confused look in her eye again. Tamaki's chest was starting to hurt.

"What?"

He gulped.

"Is there more that you wanted to say?"

Haruhi slowed a bit. Before now, she'd been walking in time with Tamaki, a considerable feat for her much shorter statue. Now she was a full step behind him. Tamaki slowed down as well to accommodate her. She appeared to be carefully considering her response and Tamaki didn't know if that should be taken as a good or bad sign. He only knew was his rampant paranoia told him and that was never helpful.

They were nearing the auditorium when she spoke up. Tamaki noted with a stab of disappointment that this was the halfway mark between the library and homeroom.

"Just that I hope all of this doesn't convince you to leave, I- we wouldn't want that."

Tamaki stared at her incredulously. "What? But aren't you afraid? If you're friends with me, you might get targeted!"

"I know…" Haruhi paused again to think. "Well, I guess I really don't know, not like you do. These last few months must have been awful for you."

"Heheh, like you wouldn't believe," Tamaki said, eyes going downward. His laugh had been hollow, depressing even. He didn't know if Haruhi felt it, or if it was just him. "There are times when I'm afraid to even walk out the front door. If I go anywhere, someone with a gun will pop out and that'll be it."

"I think you'd be less likely to be shot in a public place, though."

She mumbled something more about statistics, but whatever it was gradually faded away as his sadness was likely showing on his face more than ever before. Sensing her faux pas, Haruhi coughed and averted her eyes briefly.

"What I mean is that this that I'm not going to just abandon you. Neither is anyone else." Her eyes met his again. There was not a trace of fear to be found. "If you don't want to meet us after school anymore, that's fine, but you're our friend and that's not going to change."

Tamaki felt a warmth overcome him. It focused mainly in his cheeks and he prayed to the lord above that Haruhi would misread it as bashfulness and not a reaction to the wide smile she now wore.

"You just called me friend." he said quietly.

"I know."

"You… you consider us friends."

Haruhi laughed a little, the kind of laugh one gave when someone stated the obvious. "Of course I do. I'm your friend, and so is Mei, and Kasumi, and Kohaku. Believe me, they would never have treated you to yesterday if they didn't like you at least on some level."

"Oh…" Tamaki didn't really know what to say to that part.

Haruhi sighed softly. It was an innocuous act, but it somehow got Tamaki listened more closely, if that were possible. He couldn't shake the feeling that she was about to go in deeper.

"And… I know I've never been the most open to all your suggestions and changes, but I do think you've done a lot of good, Senpai. Not just for us."

They had stopped long ago, but Tamaki didn't care. There was a door in front of them, and if it was his, it could wait. Right now, he had to fight off the increasingly powerful urge to throw is arms around Haruhi and never let her go. He allowed himself only a warm look and a gentle hand on her shoulder. It was a gesture purely born of friendship, he told himself.

"Haruhi, I can't thank you enough for this," he said almost reverently. "You are amazing at giving pep talks. That's why you're going to make a great lawyer someday."

Haruhi made her ridiculously cute bewildered face again, and it was all Tamaki could do not to melt into a pile of Tamaki-goo.

"I just said what I've been thinking all day," she said, shrugging. "It's not really profound or anything."

'It is for me.'

"Believe me, Haruhi, you've said it all," Tamaki said fondly. Though he didn't look away from her, a familiar figure walked by the window inside the classroom next to them. It caught his attention regardless. "And this would be my classroom."

Haruhi eyed the door, then nodded. "Right."

She made like she was going to turn, but Tamaki couldn't let her leave yet. Though he did fear the wrath of his teacher more the longer his lingered outside- she turn her head a fraction of an inch and see them at any time- this was far more important to him right now.

"Haruhi?" She stopped moving. "Thanks. I'll see you after school, okay?"

Her face brightened. He knew she'd never admit how happy that made her.

"See you then."

Tamaki waited for her to disappear around the corner to walk inside. Her long hair swished about in a way that hypnotized him. He realized she was becoming more beautiful to his eyes than she already was.

When he walked inside, the first thing he received was a rolled up piece of paper on the head, an angry berating from his teacher for being so late, and extra homework, before ordering him to his seat amid the soft snickers of his less-than-sympathetic classmates.

The entire way, his head was held high.

It was worth it.


Tamaki was the first one out when the final bell rang. For once, it was out of eagerness to start the rest of the day and not fear of someone staring holes in his back following him around to make threats. Kurosawa was right behind him, but he was hand in hand with Oshiro and far from angry.

"Have a good day, Okada-kun," Oshiro said, waving him off. "See you tomorrow."

Kurosawa grumbled something similar, but Tamaki couldn't make out the exact words. He waved back anyway.

"You two have fun!"

They both blushed, and that was the last Tamaki saw before he turned around and walked in the opposite direction. The time on the clock read fifteen minutes before rehearsal would start, so he could take his time. Opening night was this Friday, and everyone was becoming tense. Ichirou didn't help matters, he'd taken to pacing during the two leads' practice and jumping into the air when anyone so much as tapped him on the shoulder. Tamaki and, surprisingly, Kohaku, had been doing what they could to calm him down. Kohaku's method of grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him probably did more harm than good, but Tamaki was honestly a little scared to let Kohaku know. She could be very abrasive when she wanted to be, which was often.

Today, he'd finally talk to her about it. There was nothing she could do to bring him down right now. She could turn into a dragon and breath fire and Tamaki would face her without fear. Then, together, they would find a more peaceful way to calm Ichirou's nerves.

Tamaki was walking by a series of large, freshly cleaned windows, the sun streaming in and warming his skin, when Ichirou himself appeared right on the other side. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and brow furrowed, staring up at a much taller boy whose head was down as if in shame. Though his face was hard to see, Tamaki knew immediately who it was. He darted behind the wall, poking his head out to see as best he could. From this angle, the back of Ichirou's head was visible, and he could see Sato's eyes trained on the browning grass.

"So what's this all about?" Ichirou's voice carried through the cracked open top window. Tamaki stood a little higher to hear better. "Is this some kind of joke or what?"

Sato shuffled his feet. "It's like I said. I- I really like you and I… I was hoping maybe you might- you and I, I mean, I'm-"

"You're bad at this," Ichirou said matter-of-factly. "That's what you are."

"Don't rub it in."

Sato shied back a step. Tamaki felt a twinge of fear that he might run away. He leaned more toward them, so his head was almost completely in view. Sato needed only to turn his head one inch in the wrong direction, and he'd see Tamaki plain as day. This registered in the more reasonable part of Tamaki's mind, but he couldn't bring himself to move or to look away from Ichirou's head of light brown hair that was in need of brushing. Was he ignoring basic hygiene for the play now too?

"But see, you can't expect me to accept this like nothing after you and your friends mocked and insulted my theater," Ichirou said, eyeing Sato harshly. "It's tantamount to insulting me."

"I apologized for that!" Sato sounded like he'd given that apology a hundred times. "I wasn't even joining in."

"But you didn't stop them either."

"I told them afterwards not to bother with you guys anymore…" Sato paused for a beat. His cheeks were turning red at an alarming rate. "Look, I'm not good at saying sorry, but I am. Sorry. I am sorry, I mean. I don't know what else I can say except that I think you are really smart and interesting and… I just really like you a lot, and I promise I won't ever let them insult you again, and if you could give me a chance…"

He mumbled something, and Tamaki couldn't make it out, nor did he knew if Ichirou could. Ichirou hadn't let up in his hard staring. He studied every inch of Sato's posture, every tone of his voice, like he was a bug under a microscope. The air around them was starting to suffocate. Tamaki struggled with the urge to get away before Ichirou made something explode with his eyes. Pressing his feet firmly into the ground, he rolled over to lean on his back, head pressed on the brick wall and ears peaked. He couldn't see them now, but someone was walking now. The footsteps didn't fade, so Tamaki guessed they were pacing.

"Okay," Ichirou's voice said. "I'm not going to lie, this is throwing me for a loop. Because I really though you were lying before, but after that… if there's one thing I know, it's how to tell a lie from truth, and if there's one thing I like, it's sincerity."

The pacing stopped.

"So no promises, but how about you and I have lunch in theater room tomorrow, just us. We'll talk more about it there. That work for you?"

There was a pause before Sato fumbled a response that could only be described as affirmative. Ichirou stifled a laugh, the first real one Tamaki had heard from him in days. It gave him a warm feeling inside, like a sign of good fortune.

Deciding it was time to give them privacy, Tamaki continued his walk like he'd never stopped. He didn't look Sato and Ichirou's way, and heard nothing addressed to him. Their voices faded away when he turned the corner and went on his way.


Tamaki pushed the doors open. For once, they were unlocked and he didn't have to run all the way around to the stage door to get in. All this meant was that Ichirou still hadn't arrived, and surely that was a good thing right now.

"Hey, there you are, Okada," one of the male actors shouted out to him.

"Good to see you," Tamaki answered.

He looked up at Mei and Kasumi. Both girls were over by the curtains, practicing pulling up the scenery tarps. On the other side was Motou, handling the ropes Mei and Kasumi had to work together on with no problem. It appeared the only issue was a lack of restraint on his part. Whenever the girls went to pull, he'd heave the rope up as hard as he could, and the background came up grossly lopsided until the girls scrambled to make it even. After the fourth time, Mei threw down the rope and stalked to him, her face red with rage.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Her screeching rang around the room and made everyone pause. Several people stopped to look at her, others with less interest went right back to work. Motou let go of the rope, letting the tarp fall into a heap. Kasumi inched away from it, and by extension Mei, heading instead to help Kohaku place tape on the ground to mark everyone's position. Tamaki walked up the rows of empty seats and towards the stage a little slower. He could have just stood in the back and heard Mei's voice anyway. Ichirou would just love her ability to project.

"I asked you a question," she said as she came to stand in front of the silent and barely affected Motou. "Are you listening?"

Motou stuck a finger in his ear. "Maybe if you didn't yell so much and make my ears hurt, I would."

"Stop screwing around! You're lucky we ever let you help out."

"That was Ichirou's call, not yours. You don't like me, why don't you leave?"

"Knock it off, you two," Konimi yelled as she walked by with a script in hand.

Motou immediately stopped glaring and Mei and grinned stupidly at Konimi, who wasn't even looking.

"Sorry about that, Konimi-san! Didn't mean to bother you, I'd never do that!"

She walked out stage left without a word, while Motou groaned and muttered angry words at himself. Mei smirked knowingly.

"You're never going to win her over like this," she said. "Next time, why not get her attention before you talk to her?"

She snickered when Motou could give no response, and stalked off in the opposite direction, still berating himself in loud whispers. Words stuck out, but had no meaning to Tamaki, and ended with a door slamming. Shaking his head, Tamaki climbed the side steps to meet the girls at the top. They all stopped what they were doing and surrounded him, all smiles.

"Hey, there you are, Fearlesss Leader," said Mei. "We were thinking you wouldn't show."

"I didn't think I was that late," Tamaki said, smiling.

"You're not, don't listen to her," Kasumi said.

"You're more timely than Ichirou, at any rate," Kohaku said with a huff and her hands on her hips. "Where the heck is that Prima Donna anyway? Isn't this play his lifeblood or something? You'd think he'd be the first one here."

"I saw him on my way over," Tamaki said, smiling knowingly. "He was in the middle of a serious discussion with someone, but I think he'll be here soon."

Kohaku studied him intently. "Why do I feel like there's more you aren't telling us?"

Tamaki chuckled lightly and patted the much shorter Kohaku on the head. He ruffled her hair and earned a growl of anger as she swatted him away.

"Ever the perceptive one, Kohaku," he said. "That's why you'll do well in politics. You have my vote."

He was in earnest, his comment not at nearly as patronizing as it was taken. If Kohaku expected to be backed up in her rage, she would be disappointed. Mei brushed by her, paying about as much attention to her grumbling as she had to Mutou's. She stood before Tamaki, arms crossed as she sized him up.

"You seem happy today," she said. "After what happened yesterday, I thought you'd be all doom and gloom."

"I was…" Tamaki said softly, but a little too loud still because Mei's face betrayed that she'd heard. "What I mean is, I know now that you guys would never abandon me. Forgive me if I come on too strong, but you all are the best friends I've ever had."

He would have wrapped them all in a hug if he could have. Or maybe he wouldn't, since Haruhi wasn't there and there would be a huge chunk of their circle missing without her. He fought not to laugh at their nonplussed expressions. It would be so rude of him, but they all just looked so adorable this way.

"Well, we did kind of force you into our club," Mei said while rubbing the back of her neck. "I uh… Glad there's no hard feelings."

"Never," Tamaki said empathically. "Being in this club is the best thing that's happened to me since I lost my old life. It may be the best thing to ever happen to me at all!"

"Okay, now you're exaggerating," said Kasumi.

"Enough lovey talk, it's nauseating!" Kohaku shouted, waving her hands as she walked away from the group. "We've got scenery to set up, right? Come over here and help me, Pres! Mei and Kasumi can take the other rope.

Tamaki shared a sideways glance with both remaining girls, the edges of his mouth turning upwards just a little. He shoved his hands into his pockets and started after her.

"Coming, Kohaku."

He quickly discovered that Mutou was at least a thousand times stronger than him. Where the larger boy had had no trouble pulling up the enormously heavy tarp, it took everything both himself and Kohaku had to lift their end, and Mei and Kasumi didn't seem to be fairing much better. Tamaki could at least comfort himself with the fact that his side always made it higher than theirs.

"Come on, everyone! Teamwork is key!" He yelled over on the fourth try.

"More like time on the free weights," Kasumi snidely yelled back.

"I hate those things," Mei said with an ill look. "They're always too heavy and last time, I almost dropped one on my foot."

"Did you start with the five pound ones or just skip ahead to the twenty pounders?" Kohaku piped up. "Because I know you, Mei, and you aren't the most patient person around."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Ladies, please!" Tamaki shouted over them. "We can make arrangements for a group visit to the gym later! Let's get this thing up!"

The door slammed open then, and in ran a haggard and out of breath Ichirou. He loose pages from his battered copy of the script flew every which way as he carelessly ran with it in his arms. A few students working on the lights stopped what they were doing to go and hunt for the missing pages. Ichirou darted to the stage, climbing the stair case two at a time, which was really just one big leap from the bottom to the top.

"Woah, slow down before you hurt yourself," Kohaku said.

Ichirou stopped in the middle of the stage, bending over to catch his breath. He gasped and choked again and again. Tamaki might have been concerned if Ichirou hadn't already done something like this many times in the past week. He'd give it ten more seconds and if Ichirou wasn't better by then, he'd call for the nurse. 9... 8... 7...

"I'm good!"

Ichirou shot right up, trembling arms in the air and a big smile on his face.

"I'm fine… I'm good… calm and collected… no pressure… remember to breathe… next session Thursday night… move it to Friday… call Doctor in the morning… how's the scenery going?"

He snapped his head to Tamaki and Kohaku unexpectedly at the last part. Both of them needed a moment to process his sudden addressing them, and it was Kohaku who recovered first.

"We're good, it's just really heavy. An extra pair of hands would be fantastic."

She looked expectantly at Ichirou, like she was waiting for him to either find someone to help or volunteer himself like any good person would. Ichirou did take time to eye the heap of painted tarp and cringe with sympathy for them.

"Well, I'm sure you guys'll get it right," he said, flashing a thumbs up.

Kohaku ground her teeth, a horrible and truly incensed growl emitting from her throat. Sensing danger, Tamaki took gentle hold of her by the shoulders and rubbed them in a soothing manner.

"Relax, we'll figure this out," he said.

She growled again and jerked away. Tamaki couldn't hide how hurt that made him feel, but his sad, tear-filled face didn't phase her.

"I don't like being touched, remember?"

"Sorry…"

"There you are! What kept you?"

Tamaki looked up, all feelings of hurt forgotten when Haruhi came into view. She had her hair pulled back into a ponytail for once. Not a single strand was at risk of getting in her eyes. It was practical, but a strange look for her. Tamaki much preferred her beautiful long hair down and uncontained. Looking at her now with it completely out of view, she had an almost boyish look to her. It never occurred to Tamaki until now that Haruhi actually had pretty androgynous facial features. She could easily pass for a young boy if she wanted to.

Why she'd ever want to, though, was beyond him.

"Hey, Pres, are you still paying attention?"

"Huh?" Tamaki shook himself back to reality.

Haruhi was chatting with Mei about something, but now that nobody was screaming, he could no longer hear. Whatever it was, Haruhi must have been in agreement because she nodded her head and Mei hugged her, looking relieved. Once Haruhi had nicely, yet forcefully, disentangled herself from Mei's arms, she reached down for the loose end of the rope.

"Okay guys, I think all five of us can do it," Mei said.

She held the rope in both hands, determined like one about to enter battle. Kasumi and Haruhi were in line behind her, ready and waiting for the other side. Tamaki grabbed the rope again. Kohaku, though likely as discouraged and annoyed as ever, followed suit.

"Alright, guys, one more try!" Tamaki said. He squeezed the rope tighter. "One, two, three!"

Tamaki pulled with all his strength. Kohaku grunted in pain, but their efforts were paying off. The tarp jerked around a bit, then slowly started to ascend. It rose higher and higher and the painted trees and mountains became visible. The addition of one more person was just what they needed, and pretty soon the scenery was up and only the very bottom end touched the floor. On each side, Kohaku and Kasumi quickly tied it down to the floor. When they were done, everyone else let go. Mei flopped down on the ground, practically gulping down mouthfuls of air. Kasumi above her was unimpressed.

"You didn't do that much work, suck it up."

Ichirou walked back in from the opposite door. He still held his script, but now it was opened to a random page and he was writing furiously in the margins. He stopped when he noticed the change in background.

"Hey, great work, you guys!" he said. "You're even better than the first crew."

He laughed, and Kohaku answered with a mocking one of her own. Tamaki didn't try to touch her this time, but did give her a disapproving look that she didn't acknowledge. Ichirou had already moved on to complimenting Kasumi on her knot-tying anyway. She was a little less than modest about the praise.

"It's nothing, really, I just go camping a lot. I guarantee that knot until the show closes."

"Wonderful!" Ichirou clapped his hands together and then pulled out a megaphone. Tamaki furrowed his brow in surprise. Where did he get that? "Alright, listen up everyone! We're going to start dress rehearsal in exactly 32 minutes. First, we're going to run through the second to last scene one more time, where our hero stands over our dreadfully sick heroine's bedside, determined not to leave her until she's well again! As you know, this occurs right as our heroine's mother finally decides to throw out her abusive, freeloading brother in an argument that takes place off stage. Our leads are currently rehearsing alone in the band room, so I want Matsumoto and Ogano to take their places off stage. Matsumoto, you missed your cue last time, watch it! Okada and… Fujioka, you two go fill in for the leads."

Tamaki stopped dead in his tracks. He'd been carrying a few discarded boxes away to clear the stage, while Haruhi was doing the same on the other side of the stage. He thought he heard the thump of cardboard hitting the floor, and first thought it was her until he realized his hands were now empty.

"Huh?" Haruhi said, her voice ringing in Tamaki's ears. "You want us to act?"

"No, no, you're just substituting until Tanaka and Hara come back," Ichirou said. "You don't have to do anything but lay there, and all Okada has to do is sit next to you and maybe sing a lullaby or something. It's supposed to be romantic."

"Go on, Haruhi," Mei said, sounding oddly enthusiastic about Haruhi being a simple stand in.

Tamaki couldn't take his growing nerves anymore and forced himself around and facing everyone, including Haruhi. Thankfully, she was looking not at him, but at Mei over her shoulder. Mei was pushing her towards the painted wooden box with a floral print comforter and pillow thrown over it to make a bed. Haruhi didn't try to resist, but she wasn't exactly thrilled either by the look on her face.

"Does it really matter if the leads are here or not?" Tamaki asked quickly. "I mean, you're just focusing on what's happening off stage right now."

"Yeah, but the stage looks uneven otherwise," Ichirou said. He flippantly motioned for Tamaki to move towards Haruhi, who was now sitting on the 'bed' and waiting for him. "I just want you to stand there for about five minutes, okay? Nothing more."

Tamaki remained fidgety despite these reassurances. Something about pretending to be the lead while Haruhi played as the girl the lead was in love with sent his cool flying right out the window. Haruhi pulled herself onto the wooden block, shifting around a few times to find a comfortable position. She laid her head down on the pillow, over the sheets. With her hands cupped and resting on her stomach and her eyes closed, she looked so peaceful. Her features were like porcelain in this lighting, flawless and beautiful. Tamaki stood over her, mouth dry and hands shaking. He gulped.

'What am I even nervous about? I'm just going to sit next to her for a couple of minutes while she pretends to be asleep, it's not like this is something obscene like laying down with her. That would be… that's something I shouldn't think about. Just stay calm, this is nothing at all and it'll be over before you know it.'

Tamaki breathed slowly in and out through his nose, a technique for relaxation one of the maids at the second Suoh mansion had taught him before he left. He eased himself to the floor and sat with his legs pulled to his body. It was only slightly less comfortable than the desk chairs in class, though he was slowly getting used to those. Haruhi had her eyes open again, and she was staring at the dim lights overhead, deep in thought. Tamaki tried not to watch her for too long. He was getting that funny feeling again, like it would kill him not to hug her right now, when she looked so sweet and adorable lying there and thinking about the world and her future. Maybe he should look at something else until this was over to distract.

Ichirou came to stand over him, studied them with an analytical eye before nodding his approval.

"Okay good," he said. "Now, Okada, until we're done, just don't move too much and make sure to stare ceaselessly into Fujioka's eyes as if you are passionately in love with her."

Something resembling a scream almost came out of Tamaki's mouth, but his sealed lips assured that only he'd been able to hear it right. Haruhi turned her head a little to look at Ichirou, then straight at Tamaki. His heart began beating faster.

"I- is that really necessary, Ichirou-kun?" Tamaki weakly objected.

Ichirou gave him an ugly look, then grabbed him by the sides of his head and shoved him so close to Haruhi that their foreheads and noses were touching.

"I said 'stare into her eyes as if you are passionately in love with her!' NOW!"

Tamaki almost cried tears of fear, but that would not be good at all with Haruhi so close. He might get her face wet, and he'd be completely humiliated. Ichirou let go of his head and stalked away. Tamaki pulled away from Haruhi, far enough that they weren't breathing on each other anymore, but maintaining enough closeness that hopefully Ichirou would be satisfied. That he said nothing else directed at them was a good sign, and when he commanded Matsumoto and Ogano to start from behind the curtains, Tamaki was almost relieved. He still had to sit a mere ten or so inches away from Haruhi, though. He thought his chest might burst any moment.

"This is… pretty fun, huh?" He didn't know what he was trying to make conversation for.

"Try not to talk so loud," Haruhi whispered back with a soft smile. "And I was kind of hoping to just put all the garbage in order so it'll be easier to take out later."

Tamaki gave the tiniest nod he could so no one else would notice. "Yeah, but I'm sure the others can handle it."

Haruhi turned her head back to the ceiling. Tamaki suspected that was the best position for her on this stiff board. She still kept her eyes on him as much as she could.

"I thought I heard Ichirou mention that the male lead sings a lullaby to the female lead," she said playfully. "I wouldn't mind if you went with that. You're a really good singer, Senpai."

Tamaki blinked in surprise. "What makes you say that? You've never heard me."

"Yes I did," she answered. "I heard you that day we went for karaoke."

"But you walked out before I went on."

"I walked out while you were on. I still heard you start, and I thought you sounded good… I am sorry about that by the way."

"Don't worry about it," Tamaki said. He was welling up with joy like never before. He didn't even understand why her words made him so happy, but now he wanted nothing more than to carry Haruhi off to a secret location and perform a full show just for her, with vocals and piano, and leave her blown away. "I'm afraid I don't know many lullabies."

Haruhi tilted her head to one side. "That's nothing. I'm sure you'd put me right to sleep no matter what song you choose."

Tamaki chuckled bashfully for a moment, and then he thought about what she'd said again and a feeling of dread came over him.

Had she meant that his voice was so lovely and relaxing that it would gently lull her to sleep?

Or what if she was saying that he was boring? So much so that having to listen to him for even a few minutes would have her out for days?

Should he ask her to elaborate, or would the mere sound of his voice be so tedious to her that she'd just lose consciousness right there the moment he started talking?

As terrifying images of Haruhi sleeping forever because of him filled his mind, Tamaki looked away to Mei, who stood off to the side, flanked by a not nearly as interested Kohaku and Kasumi. She smiled at him when he sent her a pleading look, not a warm smile either. It was the kind one wore when taking revenge on someone who had horribly wronged them. There was not a drop of warmth to be found in that look.

Mei raised a single, manicured finger and twirled it around in the air, stopping abruptly in Haruhi's direction. Tamaki got the message loud and clear. He feared for a moment that Haruhi really had gone to sleep in the interim or was otherwise too bored to want to talk to him anymore. He found her twiddling her thumbs and staring at the ceiling some more. When she looked at him again, she smiled, a real smile that wasn't at all bored or annoyed. Tamaki couldn't not give one back.

Maybe he'd been over-thinking things just a little bit.


I can't say I'm not still nervous. I can't say that at all.

But for the first time since this awful mess began, I have a really good feeling about the future.


Thursday evening. He'd been sitting in this hotel room of his, bored with nothing to do, since waking up in the morning. He had ordered scrambled eggs with sausage and a glass of milk for breakfast, and decided immediately after it arrived that he wasn't hungry after all. It sat untouched on the coffee table and there was a fly buzzing around it. He ate a ham sandwich for lunch and that was all he needed.

His favorite knife, newly sharpened, ran along the wallpaper. It was bright orange with abstract shapes and he absolutely hated it. There was now a long line running from the TV to his chair. He'd been working on it for hours. It was a pitiful attempt at entertaining himself and he was no less bored now than when the day began, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Sometimes, he pictured the wallpaper was actually Tamaki Suoh, and the knife was running across his throat rather than paper. It helped a little. As it was, he did have his photo of the boy tacked up on the opposite wall, but he wouldn't dare deface that yet. The wall would have to do for now. He almost wished they would bleed, and turn this ugly wallpaper dark red. It was a much more pleasing color to him.

The phone rang. He answered it after three rings.

"Have anything?" He didn't bother with formalities when he knew exactly who would be on the other end. He listened to non-stop talking for at least five minutes, but for once, it was okay. His boredom and general apathy vanished little by little with every word spoken. By the time his associate was finished speaking, his mouth had curled into a devilish smile that reached well passed his ears.

This was good.

"So you finally got it," he said, only a little condescending for once. He grabbed a hotel brand pen and paper from the desk. "Tell me the name again. Okada… how very plain. Genkaku Junior High… I see… and that goes on tomorrow…? And he'll definitely be there…?"

His eyes lit up like a fire had been set behind them.

"Excellent. Alright, let them know our progress. Tell Kusakabe we'll have Tamaki Suoh by tomorrow. Tell him there's no risk of failure. I'll deliver the boy's head on a silver platter if he wants it."

He hung up the phone without another word, his associates would know where to go from there. What to arrange and how many men to send over. He'd need about five to cover all the bases. There was no room for failure, after all.

He rubbed a finger against the handle of his knife before sending it flying at the photograph. The blade embedded itself halfway into Tamaki Suoh's forehead.


"Katsuo-san, I'm sorry. I- I don't think I can do this."

"This isn't the time for a breakdown, Tamaki-san. You need to man up."

"But I can't, Katsuo-san! Don't you understand? What you're teaching me… there's no way I could ever do this."

"This is to protect you, Tamaki-san. Your life is at risk."

"I know… but to actually shoot someone… to intentionally- even if they are trying to kill me. I don't think I'm strong enough."

"…"

"…"

"…Tamaki-san? Please stop crying."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be difficult I just… Katsuo-san, what are you doing?"

"Listen to me now, don't speak. I understand that you're afraid. You and I aren't as different as you think. I may be able to shoot a gun now, but I couldn't always. I was like you in my training days. I was afraid- deathly afraid to carry a gun around and have to shoot down a criminal. My trainer used to tell me that it was my job and my responsibility, and then one day he took me aside and had a talk with me. I'm going to tell you now what he told me then, because it helped me more than anything else."

"I'm listening."

"He told me to take look at my gun. Really look at it… do it."

"Oh, right…"

"Good. He told me to look at it from every angle, top, bottom, left side, right side, the safety lock, the barrel, the trigger. And once I did that, he told me to aim like I was about to shoot, and ask myself why."

"…"

"…"

"…why what?"

"You tell me. Why would you pull that trigger? What would be your reason? Because you're not a killer, Tamaki-san. You are not the one to murder in cold blood. When you fire that gun, it's not going to be for any reason other than protection; for yourself or someone else. I had to protect civilians from criminals back in my day, and sometimes that did involve whipping out one of these. If we're lucky, you will never have to be in that position, but if you ever are, you will be ready. And I want you to ask yourself: who are you trying to protect?"

"…I'm still scared."

"I know."

"But… I think maybe we could try one more time?"

"That would be good. Your aim is still way off."

"…"

"…"

"…On my signal, now."

"Yes, sir."

"Ready… aim…"