A/N: So I wrote most of this chapter in one sitting back in mid January. Finished it, reread it, absolutely hated it. I had to do the whole thing over again from scratch. So I'm sorry for the delay, but it's much better now than it would have been if I hadn't taken all of this time.

Also, I'm really sorry that I haven't been replying to reviews lately. I've just been so caught up in other things that I haven't really had the time. Usually I'll see the email notification on my iPod, but by the time I get a computer I've forgotten all about it. I'm going to try to be better about that in the future, and sometime next week I'll sit down and reply to the last chapter's reviews.

This chapter isn't the happiest. But then, this just isn't a very happy story. Things won't get really bad for awhile, though, so don't worry.


With the first of November came a bone-chilling freeze that seemed to invade the school like an invisible army. It crept in through the cracks around the windows, and with no heating system to speak of, seasoned students took to wearing ski coats and thick scarves just to walk downstairs for breakfast. Tap water ran cold, turning the prospect of a warm shower into a distant dream, and with the sudden growth of the student body, there were no longer enough spare blankets to go around on the coldest nights. Students had to make do with what they had - or with what they could steal from their neighbors.

The coldest day of the month so far found Haruhi walking back from her last class alone, wrapped up in a patched wool coat and a scratchy grey scarf. It had been almost a month, but the emptiness of the halls still struck her as strange. The serpentine hallways and mismatched paintings were all the same, but they felt darker, like there was some unseen evil waiting behind every door.

Haruhi opened her dorm room door, set her books down on the dresser, and was just about to collapse back into bed when she noticed something out of place - a small, wrinkled pad of paper, sitting wide open on the bedside table. Haruhi recognized it immediately: Reiko's sketchbook.

The temptation was sickening, and it was all Haruhi could do not to look as she moved past the table. There were so many answers in that book, so many things she could stop guessing about. Was there anything else explaining the significance of the number nine? Were there any more clues as to when this horrible thing would happen? And most of all, who was going to die? Haruhi started to reach for the sketchbook, but drew her hand back sharply. She was desperately curious, yes, but she also knew that there were things in that book she would rather not know. Things Reiko wouldn't want her to know. Trying her best to avert her eyes, Haruhi settled onto the bed and began to think diligently about unimportant things - the math lesson, the weather, what coat she would wear to bed tonight.

Her eyes began to stray.

Chemistry homework. The tea stain on her khaki pants. The crack in the ceiling that looked like a face.

But a thought occurred to her, and for a dire moment she stopped trying to fight the curiosity. What if the book was open for a reason? Whether it was fate, or by Reiko's design... What if the drawing displayed was important, and by averting her eyes Haruhi was avoiding knowledge that she needed? It was an unlikely answer, but enough to crack Haruhi's resolve. She reached for the sketchbook, her stomach fluttering...

Aunt Etsuko's yappy dog. That restaurant back home that Dad likes. The English assignment due next week. But nothing was enough to distract her. Her fingers closed around the book, and, her heart pounding, she looked.

The drawing was small and light, the pencil strokes hardly visible at a distance, but the shapes were clear. It depicted a battle, but not the sort featured in Haruhi's nightmares for the past month. This battle was between two creatures: a large, thin dog, and a savage wolf. The wolf had its jaw clenched around the dog's neck, drawing a stream of grey blood that stained the dog's light fur. It was impossible to tell from the sketch whether the dog was fighting back, but Haruhi had a bad feeling the the situation was in the wolf's favor.

The question, though: what on earth did this mean? From what Haruhi's understood, Reiko's drawing were usually straight-forward, all but the page of nines. Could this be another figurative drawing, or was it a literal representation of a future event? It was impossible to tell.

Haruhi started to turn the page, but a pang of guilt cut her actions off short, and she placed the sketchbook back where she had found it. The drawing had been of little help, and had only confused her more. Feeling a bit let-down, she pushed it to the back of her mind and tried her best to concentrate on other things.


"What I don't get, is how on Earth that's supposed to say 'cell'." Tamaki gestured emphatically at the notebook, his voice raising just a bit too loud for the quiet library. Haruhi put a finger to her lips, and sank back into her chair.

"And what I don't get," she replied tartly, "is why you can't just write your own notes during class, instead of copying the twins'."

Tamaki pouted. "You don't like helping me?"

"I never said that." Haruhi shook her head. Tamaki hadn't answered her question, but she was too distracted by the thought of the drawing to argue. She wanted terribly to mention it to Tamaki, but out of respect for Reiko's privacy she held her tongue, trying instead to focus on the notebook in front of her.

"Tamaki," she found herself saying, her voice feeling strange and heavy, "do you ever get the feeling that there's something really big we're missing?"

"What do you mean?" Tamaki asked.

Haruhi rubbed wearily at her temples. "I mean, haven't you ever considered that the answer to all of this could be entirely different than what we're expecting?"

"Well yeah, I've thought about it" Tamaki frowned, confused. "But what do you-"

"Forget about it." Haruhi sighed. "It's just a thought I had."

"C'mon, Haruhi! Tell me!"

"It's really nothing important, believe me."

"Haru-"

The developing argument was cut short when the library doors swung open, and two tall figures in matching wool coats sauntered in. The guard on duty - slightly smaller than Zev, but still resembling a large bear - gave them a disdainful sneer.

"Well if it isn't our best girl." Before Haruhi knew it, the chair next to her scooted backwards and Hikaru Hitachiin slid into it. He had a red scarf wrapped up to his chin and leather gloves on his hands; the air in the library felt no warmer than outside.

Kaoru took the seat on Haruhi's other side, and with a stifled squeak of shock from Tamaki, he tossed his arm over Haruhi's shoulders. "We just came to get our notes back from Boss."

"But if he's not through with them," Hikaru added, tweaking a strand of Haruhi's short hair, "we have no objections to sticking around until he is."

Haruhi stared at him coldly. "Tamaki's easily enough distracted as it is. We don't need you two in here making it worse." She entirely ignored Tamaki's indignant gape, and went on reading the page of notes in front of her.

Hikaru frowned. "We hardly see you outside of class anymore. What gives?"

"Yeah," Kaoru added. "We haven't really gotten to talk to you in weeks." He stuck out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout.

Haruhi clenched her pencil and spoke in a controlled voice: "You guys know 'what gives'. And 'what gives' is watching us right now, so be quiet." She held a finger over her lips, glancing hesitantly at the guard by the door. The man was fully engrossed in a loose thread on his shirt, but Haruhi didn't want to take any chances.

Tamaki turned up his nose. "You two devil twins are interrupting Haruhi's delicate translation. Now begone!"

"Begone?" Hikaru snorted. "Who talks like that anymore?"

Tamaki ignored this. "You're only jealous because Haruhi chose me to grace with her presence this afternoon. Now kindly leave us in silence and-"

Hikaru scowled, and there was a sharp thud from beneath the table. At that moment, several things happened very quickly. Tamaki's words cut off with a sharp yelp, and then the air around them seemed to explode with a strange, vibrating energy. Haruhi's eyes snapped up from the biology notes just in time to see Tamaki's figure blur and expand, and a quiver of panic rose up in the back of her throat.

"Stop!" she heard her voice shout out, but there was nothing that anyone could do. In a sudden pop, Tamaki disappeared.

And in his place, furry and white and standing at just over five feet, was a very startled llama.

On any other day, Haruhi would have laughed. She would have laughed until she cried. But now, all she could do was stare in complete horror at the scene before her. She hardly dared to breath, lest it pique the attention of the guard. But it was much too late for that.

"Hey, freak, that's against the Headmistress' rules!" The guard sounded just as shocked as Haruhi and the twins; there was confusion and anxiety mixed in with the anger on his beefy face as he strode over to the scene. "None of that mutant crap anywhere on campus!"

What have you done? Haruhi thought, hazarding a glance over at the twins. Both of them had gone sickly pale in the face. Across the table, Tamaki clucked anxiously.

The guard reached the table in three long strides. He seemed to tower over the four like a sentinel. "Looks like we got ourselves a little rule breaker, huh?" Sneering sadistically, he grabbed a fistful of Tamaki's white fur in one meaty hand. Tamaki made a shrill, startled noise. "This just isn't your day, son."

Hikaru stood up so fast that his chair tipped backwards, hitting the floor with a violent clatter. "Hey dumbass, it wasn't his fault!"

The short silence that followed was unbearable. "You idiot," Kaoru whispered. Haruhi could feel her heart beating hard in her throat as she watched the guard's expression change from one of morbid amusement, to one of pure sadistic pleasure. His fingers flexing slowly, he let go of Tamaki and turned towards Hikaru.

The guard took the bait. "Really, now? You did this, did you?"

Hikaru gulped. His hands were visibly trembling. "I-I did. It was all me." It was a weak lie, and for one horrible moment Haruhi found herself hoping that the guard would buy it.

The guard looked doubtful, but a slight shrug confirmed the man's gullibility. " 'S long as I got somebody," he said amusedly. "Any one of you'd do for what we got planned."

Kaoru made a quick move towards his brother, but Haruhi caught him by the sleeve. I don't want to lose them both, a voice in her head chimed, but she quickly pushed the thought away. Biting her lip, she took Kaoru's hand in her own and watched numbly as a brawny hand yanked Hikaru from his seat. Looking up, she caught Hikaru's eyes with her own. The boy managed a toothy grin as he stumbled towards the library door: a promise that everything would be alright. A promise that he would return before they knew it.

In a heartbeat - a single breath - Hikaru and the guard were gone. And in the next moment, something seemed to snap inside of Kaoru. He yanked his hand free of Haruhi's, scratching her palm with his nails, and made a wild move for the closing door. Haruhi was just fast enough - she managed to grab the back of his coat with both hands before he made it too far.

"Let me go! They're gonna hurt him!" Kaoru fumbled with his coat buttons, pushing and struggling to get free, but Haruhi had a firm grip around his waist now. She bit her lip and locked her small hands, barely registering the tears welling up in her own eyes.

"It's not worth it, Kaoru," she said, her voice muffled by the fabric of the jacket. "You'll only get yourself in trouble., and then you won't be any help to him."

Kaoru did not realize what she was doing until it was too late. Haruhi stepped back, and the boy sank like marble to the floor, landing in a tangle of limbs beside his brother's toppled chair. He tried to move, but to no avail; he was paralyzed by gravity.

Haruhi wiped her eyes and turned to face Tamaki. He looked as shell-shocked as a llama ever could, staring at the library door with an expression of foggy horror. Haruhi reached out and gave his fur a tentative stroke, but he did not seem to notice.

Turning back towards the toppled chair and the forgotten notes, Haruhi tried to push Hikaru from her mind. They would be no use to him if they panicked and fought, but she had no better ideas. She did not even know where they were keeping him, and until she knew that...

She paused, her fingers frozen on the glossy cover of the biology book. Because there was one person who would be able to find out where Hikaru was; one person who knew everything that went on behind the scenes.

If anyone could help them get Hikaru back, it was Kyouya.


" 'Any one of you'd do.' You're sure that that's exactly what he said?"

"Word for word." Rolling over onto her stomach, Haruhi tried to hold in an impatient sigh. "Still no ideas?"

Kyouya did not answer, but merely closed his eyes and tapped his pen against his forehead. His placidity was infuriating. Haruhi had not been expecting him to jump out of his chair and rush off to save Hikaru, of course, but she had expected him to do much more than sit there at his desk and murmur, "Interesting..." repeatedly, as though he was examining a case study.

"Maybe we're looking too much into it," Haruhi went on, watching Kyouya's face for any sign that he was listening to her. He gave none; he simply opened his eyes and made a short note on his clipboard. "I mean," Haruhi went on, "maybe he just meant that we're all the same, and one of us in detention is just as good as another."

Nodding his head, Kyouya laid down the clipboard. "Precisely. We can't let ourselves focus too long on the details. It's possible we'll never know what the man meant, and until then we can only wait this out and see what comes of it."

Curled up in the windowseat, Kaoru tore his eyes away from the darkening sky just long enough to shoot Haruhi a harsh, bitter glance. "That's stupid," he muttered, sounding very much like his brother. "Waiting around isn't helping him."

Kyouya pushed his glasses up his nose. "Kaoru, surely you didn't expect that we'd be able to do anything for him tonight."

Kaoru narrowed his eyes; his jaw twitched with suppressed rage. "I thought we'd be able to do a hell of a lot more than sit here and chat for an hour, while he's going through who-knows-what in this very building!"

"Kaoru..." Haruhi made a move to calm him down, but in all honesty she could relate fully with his feelings. Kyouya had been no help; her one idea had failed, and she was no more sure of how to help Hikaru than she had been that afternoon.

"It would be impractical," Kyouya continued, ignoring the fury in Kaoru's voice, "to rush into anything at this point."

"Impractical, my ass!" Kaoru pointed an unwavering finger at him. "What you mean is that it would ruin your little experiment, right? Hikaru's just your guinea pig!"

His voice seemed to echo in the small room, and Haruhi could still hear it in the uncomfortable silence that followed his outburst. Kyouya had not even looked up from his clipboard. Running a hand through his neat, black hair, he gave an exasperated sigh.

"Kaoru," he said with a tone of finality, "please realize that this is for the benefit of the school as a whole. It would be selfish to deny the student body the information that will be made available to us when Hikaru is returned."

Muted anger flashed in Kaoru's eyes for a moment, but he said nothing. His jaw tense and locked, he turned back towards the window.

Haruhi furrowed her brow. "You aren't being very fair, senpai."

But the boy just shrugged. "If life was about being fair, then I might consider it. But it's about getting ahead, and by allowing Hikaru to collect our research for us, we're gaining an advantage." He smoothed out a wrinkle on the front of his shirt.

Kyouya's reasoning made perfect sense, and in that moment, Haruhi hated him for it. She knew, in the back of her mind, that there was nothing they could do for Hikaru; there never had been, and there never would be. They had no idea what the security was like on the upper floor. But by sending Hikaru up there, they were getting an eyewitness account. It was a necessary evil, Haruhi figured. Lose some to gain some. It made her feel sick to her stomach.

For now, all any of them could do was wait.


By the time she returned to her room that night, Kaoru in tow - he categorically refused to share a room with Tamaki - she had forgotten all about Reiko's drawing. It was only after curfew, as she was setting up a bed for herself on the windowseat, that the image of the dog and the wolf slid back into her thoughts. Behind her, Hunny was flipping through a homework assignment and chewing loudly on a piece of gum. Kaoru, exhausted by the afternoon's turmoil, was already fast asleep on the other side of the bed.

"Hunny-senpai?" Haruhi began, keeping her voice soft for Kaoru's sake. "Can I ask you about something?"

Hunny moved the notebook so that his eyes peeked over. "That depends on what it is."

Taking a deep breath, Haruhi sat down on the window seat. "When I came in here after class, I found Reiko's notebook on the nightstand-"

"We were just talking," Hunny was quick to say, but Haruhi ignored him.

"-and it was open to something that I didn't really understand. A picture of a dog and a wolf." Haruhi waited for a reaction, but Hunny just looked blank. "Any ideas?"

He shook his head. "She tells me about most of them, but I never heard her mention anything like that."

Haruhi groaned. She did not want to bring this up with Reiko, but that seemed to be the only way she would find out anything. Rubbing a crick in the back of her neck, she asked, "Has she said anything else recently? Anything important?" She paused. "Anything that might help Hikaru?"

Hunny frowned. "No," he said, "nothing about him." His eyes locked with Haruhi's, and he finally lowered the notebook all the way. "I know what you're thinking. About that vision Reiko had at the start of the year."

"What vision?" But Haruhi knew exactly what he was talking about.

"It's not Hikaru," Hunny went on, sounding a bit disappointed. "So you can stop worrying about him, okay?" He managed a bleak smile, and then set down his notebook and reached for the bedside lamp. Beside him, Kaoru murmured something incomprehensible in his sleep.

"Wait," Haruhi found herself saying before Hunny's fingers reached the light switch. "If you know it's not him, then... you know who it is?"

Hunny shook his head. "She said she can't tell me. She doesn't want to worry anyone." As he spoke, that childish tremor of uncertainty crept into his voice. "She doesn't want to worry me."

It was not meant to be an answer; Hunny was determined to keep whatever he'd divined from Reiko's visions a secret. But in those few words, Haruhi suddenly understood.

"It's her, isn't it," she said, her breath shallow. "She's the one. That's why she won't-"

"I don't want to talk about it," Hunny cut in. His voice sounded both juvenile, and terribly discerning. He reached once more the light switch, and with a soft click the room went pitch black.