AN: Sorry for the delay folks. I came down with some serious writers block on how to handle the dialogue between Haruhi and Yoshio. I desperately wanted to write the man into the story, but he is a real bugger to write. Without further ado I don't own Ouran...

Ch 11: Final Stages

The next morning the school was a flurry of activity. Teachers knew to be lenient in their attendance policies for the day, as a majority of students were absent from classes helping various clubs and organizations make preparations for the masquerade that night. The halls and classrooms were loud and crowded with people, crepe paper, flowers, fabric and all the other makings of a large party.

Haruhi sat on a makeshift bench on the roof with the Black Magic Club, tucked away from the noise and crowds below. She was only up there with two other students, who were watching over the fireworks while Nekozawa and the rest of the Black Magic Club prepared a room for their "séance" later that day.

"Excuse me," a polite voice broke her out of her thoughts. She turned to face a boy who she recognized as a member of her year. "Sorry to bother you Miss Hitachiin, but I was asked to tell you to let you know that you are needed in the first floor meeting room."

Haruhi nodded and stood. "Did they say what it was about?" she asked as she quickly stretched her legs. She wondered if the other Hosts had taken mercy on Tamaki and revealed the ruse to him early. But surely they would have told her so themselves and have had her meet them in the third floor music room if they had done that.

"I'm afraid not. Mr. Ootori just stopped me in the hall and asked if I knew who you were and if I would know where to find you," at this the boy blushed. "I remembered that Renge said yesterday that you would be with the Black Magic Club during school hours until the Masquerade, so I figured I just had to find them."

"Thanks," Haruhi said as she scooped up her bag. By the time she had it on her shoulder the boy was already taking off down the stairs. She waved good-bye to the two Black Magic Club students before making her way through the maze of back-stairwells and side halls that she knew Tamaki would be unlikely to use.

As she walked she tried to figure out why Kyoya wanted to her to meet him in one of the school's main conference rooms. Usually they were only used for staff meetings or meetings with high profile partners or parents.

She sighed when she couldn't come up with any plausible reason. She pressed down on the door knob to the meeting room; she would find out soon enough.

She walked through the door and blinked as the sun flared through the window. She took a step to the side to get out the sun's direct path as she heard the door solidly click shut behind her. She quickly took in the room, not surprised that the décor was similar to the rest of the school. What surprised her was the dark haired man standing to greet her.

Yoshio Ootori smiled pleasantly, "Miss Hitachiin, please come in and have a seat. I am terribly sorry that we have never been properly introduced. I am Yoshio Ootori, Kyoya's father." He offered his hand to the girl, but she ignored it as she sat down.

"I know, I learned who you were last year at the Ouran Fair." Though she didn't say it out loud, Yoshio knew that she was finishing the sentence in her mind with "when you hit your son."
He lowered himself into a seat across from her. Something told him he was about to enter into one of the most interesting conversations of his life.

"I am sorry that the first time we spoke was under such circumstances. But I must say I was only speaking up to Kyoya because I didn't want him to regret anything in the future."

Haruhi was silent for a few moments. Finally she looked up and right into Yoshio eyes, "I'm sorry, but I don't believe you."

"I am not asking you to. I merely came here today to speak with you about Kyoya." Haruhi nodded, not sure where the conversation was headed.

"You have been frank with me Miss Hitachiin, and I will return the favor. My son never acts without a purpose, there is always an end goal associated with each action. He calculates each step, every word and every risk. He has been taking large risks with his actions of late. He no longer seeks my approval, rather he challenges me."

Kyoya stepped out onto the roof and looked around. From what he could see of the fireworks paraphernalia, it was going to be a rather large display that evening. As he looked around at the small group of students sitting up there enjoying the quite he realized that they were one short.

"Where's Haruhi?"

A girl he recognized as the vice president of the Black Magic Club looked up at him in surprise, "She went down to meet you a while ago."

"Why would she do that? We had agreed that I would meet her up here."

The girl shook her head, "No, you sent some kid up here telling her that she had to meet you in the first floor meeting room."

"What student?" Kyoya asked, hoping the girl would name one of the other hosts and make his growing concern seem foolish.

"He was in Haruhi's year. He was really freaked out; he even called you Mr. Ootori."

Kyoya's eyes widened. Without a word he turned and ran down the stairs. The Black Magic members could only stare silently and exchange confused glances at the man's strange behavior.

"As I understand, Kyoya is a third son and his chances were slim that he would ever become the next head of the family. So I do not see how his independence is a bad thing. It will help him stand on his own in the future," Haruhi countered Yoshio.

"Nor do I disapprove of his independence. I am glad of it. Young Suoh challenged him to rival his brothers. But this recent independence is driven by much more than that. He now sees himself one who can rival me. And I think it is because of you."

Haruhi's eyes widened in surprise. She recovered quickly, "I never asked him to do anything."

Yoshio smiled, "I wouldn't expect you to."

Students jumped out of the way of the Shadow King running through the halls. He seemed deaf to any of the cries or shouts that he left in his wake. All he was focused on was getting to that meeting room, on getting to her.

"The two of you have unique relationship. You respect each other, and neither of you are afraid to speak your mind to the other. You drive him to do things I wouldn't expect without even realizing it. He has found something worth taking these great risks for. I believe it is you, Miss Hitachiin."

"And if I am?"

"Then I ask you to care for him. He has never taken such a risk before, and I believe he could never recover if he was hurt now. I'm asking you to protect my son. Please do not hurt him." The older man bowed his head.

Haruhi stared at the man in front of her. She felt pity for him, but only slightly. What she felt more was anger. "Do you really think so little of me? That I would hurt someone who means so much to me? I would never dream of hurting Kyoya, but not because you asked me, Mr. Ootori. I wouldn't hurt him because I never want to see him in pain. I would protect him because I love him."

Yoshio raised his head and looked into Haruhi's eyes. She saw the spark in his eyes that she saw in Kyoya's when a theory of his has been proven correct. "Well spoken. You would make a good wife to the future head of the Ootori family."

The door slammed open. Haruhi jumped but Yoshio merely turned to face his son. Kyoya was perfectly still as the door shut behind him. His eyes were like something Haruhi had never seen. There was a feral look to them she had never encountered before. There was more anger in them then when the Host Club had left him by himself in the mall, or when Yoshio had struck him in public. She hadn't even seen this much rage in his eyes when Tamaki had driven right out of their lives.

"You..." he hissed at his father.

"Kyoya," Yoshio replied coolly, not bothering to stand.

That statement was apparently the last straw for Kyoya. Moving faster the Haruhi knew was possible for him, Kyoya had crossed the room to stand over his father.

"You bastard!" There was the sharp sound as Yoshio's glasses fell to the floor. Haruhi blinked and saw a red mark the shape of a hand starting to bloom across the older man's face. The man didn't make a move to retaliate, even as Kyoya began to yell."You think you can just come in here and use her? Decide how you can control her just because she is suddenly of interest to you? Just peddle her off as a trophy to your eldest son?" Kyoya stood over his father, panting and unable to say anything more.

Yoshio picked up his glasses and rose to his feet steadily. He met his son's eyes. "No. And I meant what I said. I hope you make each other happy."

Kyoya stared as his father walked past him.

The man paused by Haruhi's chair and the girl quickly got to her feet. "It was nice to see you Miss Hitachiin. Perhaps our next meeting will be under better circumstances." Without waiting for the girl to respond Yoshio continued to the door and left.

Kyoya turned to Haruhi, all the previous rage gone from his eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Haruhi nodded. Kyoya wrapped his arms around her. She rested her had against his chest, "Really Kyoya, it was alright. We just talked."

Kyoya released her from the hug and led her to the couch. Once they were seated Kyoya wrapped his arm around her and she once again leaned against him. It had been something they regularly did since Haruhi's time in the hospital.

"What did he talk to you about?"

"You mostly."

"When I came in, he was talking to you about marrying the future head of the Ootori." His voice had a measured calm, as though he was lost in solving the sentence's many possible meanings.

"He had just asked me not to hurt you. I told him I wouldn't because I love you, not because he asked me to. And then that prompted him t make at comment."

Kyoya smirked.

"What?" Haruhi asked, wondering what she could have said to amuse him.

He leaned down and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "I love you too." He smiled when a light pink flush played across Haruhi's face.

In a dark basement in one of the lowest levels in the Ouran building, Tamaki Suoh was more terrified then he had ever been in his life. He stood in the center of a pentagram, perched on one foot. In each of his hands he held very full bowls. One was filled to the brim with water and the other with what he desperately hoped was tomato juice, though he highly doubted it. It all probably wouldn't be so nerve racking if he didn't have a lit candle clenched between his teeth.

"You need to turn a little more to the left for the spell to work," Nekozawa instructed, not lifting his eyes from the spell book in front of him. He dare not lift his eyes from the warn pages, afraid he would burst into laughter if he watched Tamaki.

Catching a flicker of movement from the edge of his vision he spoke up, "Remember not to lower your other foot or else we have to begin all over again."

Tamaki responded with a series of whimpers.

Two hours and a sore set of ribs from repressed laughter later, Nekozawa released Tamaki, claiming the blonde had competed what he needed for that night.

"Unless you want to stay and help..."

"N..n..no thanks. Until tonight then." Tamaki stumbled away, too deep in shock to hear the whispers of a student's insane dash through the school that morning.

Nekozawa returned to the basement headquarters of the Black Magic Club. He looked around at the mess and sighed. "At least tomato juice is easy to clean up."

The day ended on a note of anticipation, all the students excitedly discussing the masquerade. Though there were no official host club hours that day, all of the hosts entertained their guests with comments on the upcoming masquerade.

Honey would tell anyone who would listen about the coordinating suits that he, Mori and Usa-chan would be wearing. The twins would proudly tell their avid fans about their personal designs that they made for each member of the Host Club. But Hikaru would be quick to get his brother's reassurances that he would have the privilege of taking off his brother's specially made suit at the end of the night. The excited squeals after this comment nearly deafened students more than once. Kassanoda's guests were quick to tell the fire headed gagster hat they were sure that the dance moves he was practicing were going to be splendid. Renge was busy most the day taking pre-orders for the photospread and calendar that Kyoya had asked her to compile. Kyoya himself made his calm promises that he was sure the night would be one to remember while confirming that Haruhi would be dressed as a girl for the event.

Despite their enthusiasm, when no one was looking a glint would come into the hosts' eyes. It would be accompanied by the thought that tonight was time of judgment, the moment of truth. Because tonight they were certain of one thing.

Tamaki kept to himself for the rest of the day. He wondered if what he was doing what was right. He wondered if it would even work. But at the same time he was happy, even if it were for a strange ad twisted reason.

There was one thing the nine teens were certain of for the oncoming night. They didn't know how it might play out, or how it could affect them in the time to come. But they all knew it was going to happen tonight. Tonight, Haruhi Fujioka was once again to walk the halls of Ouran High School.

Gah, that took forever to write. As usual, comments, questions, and/or concerns are always appreciated. And as a special treat, I'm including an extra scene I couldn't work into the plot. I guess it's sort of omake. Consider it a thanks to all the great readers who have been with this story for so long.

When the lunch break finally rolled around that day, Haruhi had opted to spend the time in an abandoned classroom, wanting to avoid the raucous affair lunch with the Host Club would bring and to catch up on he missed class work. She was so immersed in her science text book that she didn't realize that someone had joined her until Kyoya sat down at the desk in front of her own.

She shot him a friendly grin. "Maybe we should have made you play the ghost," she teased.

"I'm not so sure it would have had the same affect," the older teen replied nonchalantly. Suddenly a mischievous glint came into his eyes. "You know Haruhi, while we have this time alone, there is something I thought we could try."

"Oh?" Haruhi asked as she watched Kyoya reach into his bag and pull out a bento box. "Kyoya, what are you..."

"Don't worry, Haruhi. Trust me," Kyoya cut her off.

He opened the box and revealed what was inside. Haruhi felt her jaw drop. Nestled in the box was what she could only recognize as ootoro, the dish that was always eluding her. It seemed almost too good to be true.

"Is that..."

Once again Kyoya cut her off, "Surely you know what it is. I thought you would want a taste of it by now."

She glanced at Kyoya and the boy nodded and handed her the box and a set of chopsticks.

Picking up a piece she set it on her tongue and let the flavors dance across her tongue. She groaned in pleasure. "I never imagined it would be like that."

"Why don't we try a little bit more?"

Haruhi agreed and continued the rare dish the hosts had so often bribed her with.

After another bite and another moan of contentment, Kyoya asked, "Is it what you thought it would be like?"

"Yeah," Haruhi nodded, "I just hadn't thought it would be this salty."

"I hear some learn to enjoy the saltiness."

"Then I guess I'll have to give it a few more tries then to see if it can grow on me," Haruhi laughed. It was an odd conversation, but Kyoya seemed to be enjoying himself as he watched her eat the lunch and Haruhi couldn't help but enjoy herself as well.

After only a few more seconds of silence the door crashed opened and Hikaru and Kaoru came barreling in. Haruhi saw the tell tale speakers and wires in Kaoru's hands.

"Stay away from our sister you perv!" they yelled at Kyoya.

"Hello to you as well," Kyoya greeted the two calmly.

The red heads stopped and looked at the couple, sitting with an entire desk between them and a mouthful of ootoro grasped in Haruhi's chopsticks.

"You.. but we heard... and salt..." they stammered.

"Eh?" Haruhi asked.

Kyoya smirked. "Kaoru, Hikaru, I believe you dropped this in my pocket yesterday. I found it there last night." He tossed the small microphone to the twins. "Try to make sure it doesn't end up there again." Though he smiled as he said the last line, but his glasses flared menacingly.

The twins returned the smile.

"Good one," Kaoru gave the Shadow King a thumbs up.

"Yeah," Hikaru mused, "that was screwed up, but you got us pretty good."

"Wait," Haruhi asked, "What did you think we were doing when you were listening?" The three males turned and saw the genuine confusion on the girl's face.

"If you don't know," Kaoru started.

"We aren't going to tell you," Hikaru finished his brother's thought.

Hope you enjoyed it.
Your Loyal Writer -SK