Guest for chapters 1&2: I think this is fate, indeed! I'm glad you found this story and hope you continue following along with it. You're basically a living, breathing Suzume :) I looked into FM hearing aids when I saw this review and apparently it's like having personal radio stations that transmit on special frequencies and the sounds go directly into your ears/hearing aid? That's really flipping cool! I never knew those existed, so thanks for sharing.

*Also, since we're on the topic of hearing aids, I realized I never specified what kind of hearing aid Suzume has. She wears a half-shell in-the-ear hearing aid, which are used for mild to severe hearing loss and can be easily inserted in/taken out of the ear canal. She's completely deaf in the left ear, while mildly to moderately deaf in her right ear (the ear the hearing aid goes into).*

winterdarknessXD: Well, you're in luck my friend! Wrack your brain no longer because this is the update that will answer your question...maybe...or maybe not! You'll just have to read and find out~! And I'm so happy you're loving the story, thanks for reviewing!

JokersBatman & YaoiRPAlley: Suzu's too guarded of a person to want to immediately be anything more than acquaintances with anyone, let alone in a short amount of time. Although she's nicer to Haruhi than any of the HC members, Suzu still doesn't consider any of them friends. She just recognizes Haruhi is the least troublesome/annoying and considers her a good ally to have on her side. However, I wouldn't be writing this story if not to show how Suzu's relationship with the HC changes in the near future!

On another note, with the way Suzume was raised, how the Ootoris view her and her family, and that she grew up in the US—all these things have affected the way she acts. While she may not like any of the HC members, she *tries* to give them respect. And yes the secret! I was wondering if anyone noticed the references to it and thought I might've made them too vague -.-' But I'm relieved! Thanks a million for all the love and understanding~!

HAPPY 2 YEAR ANNIVERSARY CUPCAKES and on with the show!

Three weeks. Twenty-one days. Nearly a month passed by and not another love letter came in sight. I was too prideful of my good detective work in the first week to fully appreciate it. In the second week I was still more cautious than average, flipping through all my textbooks before every class and after I'd leave the classroom. Yet, even as the third week rolled around, I cannot say I've let my guard down entirely and enjoyed being unbothered by anonymous admirers, either.

After all, there was still the Host Club to deal with. Everyone and their mothers know there is no leisure in keeping them company. But, if they are my only problem—a problem designated for the afternoons of five out of seven days—then I could digress.

As much as I had pat myself on the back for divulging a clue from the haiku mystery, it turned out to be a bust. I'd made a plan, you see. Okay, I'll admit it—it was more a coincidence the first time. Nevertheless, it was a plan.

I needed help solving calculus, the bane of my existence, and was in the teacher's lounge once again when Sensei Maki excused himself to use the washroom. It came to me then, as I was surveying his desk out of boredom: why not sneak a little peek at the class roster while I have the chance?

So, I shuffled some papers around, pretending they were mine, and found the list. No Y.G., at least in our class. I double-checked just to be sure and still came up empty-handed, so I put aside solving the mystery in exchange for solving limits and continuities.

Then, sometime during week two, I had an epiphany. The class roster was written surname first, as is everything in Japan. But what if the initials on the notes went by surname last? I always have to remind myself not to write my first name before my last, which was put to blame on living in America for years. So, who's to say the stationary didn't make the same mistake, or was even Japan-born for that matter?

I sought help again, purely for detective purposes and with lowered hopes. Alas, nothing. So, what was a girl to do? There were a couple surnames beginning with G and plenty starting with Y to snoop around, to google the first names of family members. Trust me, I gave it some thought. A lot of thought.

But there I was, stuck in a fourteen day old rut, vision focused solely on the journey ahead and not on the two week old tunnel I'd dug for myself.

And here I am now, three weeks free of the chains the love haiku locked me in, twenty-one days sober of the stupor the mystery admirer had drove me to drink myself into.

Here I am now with another fucking note in my hand.

Not on the elegant stationary I'd gotten accustomed to, nor written with calligraphic precision. On a crinkled, quarter sheet of notebook paper is one line instead of the usual three:

Please meet me after school today. Courtyard 5.

—

I wish I was lost. I wish I had absolutely zero clue where I was. Or better yet, one of these flowers will magically grow teeth and gobble me whole like those plants in the Super Mario games. Yeah, that would be nice right about now.

But I know exactly where I am. In courtyard number five. Time: 3:37 and counting.

Sure, the letter didn't name a time, but I've been here for half an hour already. Didn't they know not to keep a girl waiting? Granted, I have no place to be off in a hurry to (I'd decided to skip Host Club for today, already foreseeing the pissy mood I am presently in), but this is ridiculous. You don't go out of your way to invite someone to meet you and then stand them up. I don't care if you're the Queen of England, you just don't!

That's why I'm here. Yes, I am tired of receiving these letters. Yes, I want to know the face behind the ink. But I could have easily tossed the plea in the trash, turned my thoughts on other things, and moved on with my life. The reason I am sitting on a bench and waiting for this Mother Tucker to show their face is respect. I would not accept their feelings, but I can respect them. I dislike the roundabout way they decided to take in showing these feelings, but I can respect it.

Yet, when my phone's analog clock ticks on 3:45, that respect is wiped clean. I stand, cello and schoolbag in hand, mind on the myriad ways to fill my starving stomach.

"W-wait!"

I look to my side at the border of flora lining the courtyard. Have you finally decided to eat me?

I turn back toward the path ahead of me and see it's now blocked by a boy. When I try staring him in the eye, the boy ducks his head. "I kinda have to go this way, so could you move, please?"

He doesn't, so I go around him. As I pass, he mumbles, "I thought you wouldn't come."

It takes me a couple more steps before the weight of his words sink in. Even then, I still have to ask, "What did you say?"

"I...I," he repeats again and again, shoulders quivering as much as his own voice. "I said I thought you wouldn't show."

Well well well. My eyes narrow, finally finding their long lost target. "It's you. You're the one who's been sending me haiku."

The boy nods his head, his shaggy hair flopping this way and that. I take him in for a few moments longer. He's some centimeters taller than me, about as tall as Tamaki or Kyoya. From what I glanced, he wears glasses, although the frames are wide and blocky. He's definitely an Ouran student, so at least I had been right about that. I survey him still, half waiting for him to raise his head and half because I finally can.

Then, reminded by my rumbling stomach, I remember my previous aggravation. I look him over one final time, not because of patience or capability. But because of hunger. You can never fully relish a meal if you don't eye it well beforehand. I am hungry and I plan to chew him to pieces.

"You thought I wasn't going to show? Well, I'm here and I have been for the past," I check my phone, "forty-eight minutes. Where have you been?"

"I just...I thought you wouldn't come."

"I heard you the first time." I roll my eyes. "Is this some kind of game to you?"

"No!" He takes a step forward and his head finally lifts, but it doesn't last for long. "No, I would never do that."

"Do I...," my nose scrunches at the bridge, "do I know you?"

"We're in homeroom together. I don't...I don't expect you to know who I am," his meek tone admits. "We've never talked, I-I mean, unless you count that one time with Sensei Himura...which I don't!"

"Oh my god. The boy who tried to save me from Himura-san's wrath! The boy with the pee-pants face! That's who you are?" is what I say in my head. Aloud, I huff: "Well, whatever. Do you have anything to say for yourself? Maybe something about how good a laugh this brought you?"

"I-it's not a joke, I swear!"

"And I'm supposed to trust this why? Because some spineless coward who can't even look me in the eye tells me I should?" His head bobbles again, up and then toward the school's pillars. "This isn't a joke, huh? Though it seems to me you have a sense of humor, for sure. I mean, how else would you be able to write these?"

I pull the letters out of my bag, unfold them and hold them out for him to see. "I thought these were quite amusing. Just as amusing as they were pitiful."

Violin Boy's fists clench, but that's about all he lets himself do as a reaction.

"You seriously have nothing to say? Fine, I'll say what I need to and go." I walk back toward him, gradually. "I don't appreciate being made a fool. As whimsical as it may be to you, my feelings are not to be made light of, nor is my time to be wasted. So, whoever you are, drop any feelings you may hold for me and keep your distance. If I catch sight of another one of these letters, I'll remember not to be as merciful as I was today."

The haiku push into his chest with a swing of my hand and I turn to walk away, ignoring the sound of the papers catching the breeze as they fall.

Kendo practice had run longer than expected today. The team was set to have a meet against Azabu, one of Ouran's longest held rival schools, after midterms and today was the last day of practice before them. Coach Nagano had gathered some of the varsity and junior varsity's best members into his office to talk strategy and weak points they should focus on strengthening in between their studies. As captain of the varsity league, this discussion—which was promised to only take ten minutes—included him.

Coach Nagano shoos them away thirty minutes later, finally done stressing the pertinence of "smashing Ass-abu to smithereens" for Ouran's reputation sake and winning back the 50,000 yen he had lost to Kaisei's coach in a bet over junior varsity's last match two weeks ago. (Nagano-san knew lots about the art of kendo, sure, but gambling? All the quiet giant would permit himself to think on the matter was that one was always more fortunate when they stuck to what they knew.)

In no means is the third-year in a rush. He knows his friends in the Host Club understood kendo's importance to him, so by no means at all was he hurrying toward the club room. But, he does feel bad for making Mitsukuni wait on him. Had he known the meeting would take as long as it had he would have texted the boy to go on ahead without him.

Not that that would have done much good. Mitsukuni would have likely insisted on waiting, anyway. In fact, as his cousin leaps into his arms and he apologizes for taking so long, that's exactly what Mitsukuni says to him.

"Aw, that's alright, Takashi~! Going to the Host Club together is much better than going alone!"

Mitsukuni hops down and smiles up at him. Sometimes when he looked at his tiny cousin, he was struck with the feeling similar to what one feels when looking at a puppy. That's what the towering third-year imagined Mitsukuni to be if he were ever suddenly turned into an animal. The ever-joyous boy would be a floppy-eared, wide-eyed puppy, one that was forever young and as energetic as he. Probably a Golden Retriever or a Samoyed.

They start making way to Music Room #3, the loli-shouta skipping along in front of him while humming some random string of notes he'd probably thought of while waiting. When his cousin switches from a walking to running down the hall, he notices the oncoming figure that is the target for Mitsukini's abrupt show of affection.

Suzume hardly seems like she wants to stop and chat, but does so despite it. When she glances his way, he spots the annoyance clear as day. If that look was spoken, he believes it would sound like, "Doesn't he have a leash or something?"

"Suzu-chan?" Mitsukuni tips his head at an angle. "What are you doing out here? Why aren't you at the Host Club?"

"I don't feel well, so I decided to leave early."

"Oh, no! Is Suzu-chan okay? Do you want us to come with you?"

"I'm fine on my own, thanks," she mutters and tries get back on track.

But Mitsukuni persistance holds on, even though it's obvious he should let go. Ever since they were little, Mitsukuni had been this way. The taller of the two would not be as bold-faced to say that he himself does not suffer from stubborness; he's quite convinced their bloodlines pass it down through the generations. However, where he knew when to give up, Mitsukuni did not.

While this has never bothered him, nor most people that crossed he and his cousin's path, it was only a matter of time before Mitsukuni met someone who wouldn't repond to his tenacity as others have.

"It's no problem, Suzu-chan~! We're already late, so a few more minutes won't make a difference!"

Looking at his neighbor again, he realizes that time is now.

"I said that's okay, Honey-senpai."

He should say something. He almost does. Almost, but doesn't. Why? Well, because he believes what his mother always told him, that Kami would never put hurdles in front of those who weren't capable of jumping over them. He had an inkling this was why she liked Suzume as much is she does; Suzume didn't just jump over her biggest hurdle, she conquered it.

This encounter here is one of Mitsukuni's hurdles. So, he would say nothing and watch from the stands as his cousin readies himself for the leap.

He watches as his cousin goes for Suzume's hand, saying, "Really, we insist~!"

He watches as Suzume snatches herself away, as Mitsukuni trips over his obstacle. "Listen, I've tried saying it nicely. But maybe it's time to say it rudely. I don't want your help. I want to go home, so just leave me alone, okay?"

She stomps away and he doesn't look at her as she goes, only at the drooping head of his cousin. Even Usa-chan's expressionless face appears dejected by the result. He stands there waiting for his cousin just as Mitsukuni had waited on him.

"Do you think she likes us, Takashi?" Mitsukuni asks after the girl has fled the scene. He doesn't think so, but he doesn't exactly want to say so, either. Thus, he does the only other thing he can think of: he lays his hand on cousin's head. "I just want her to like us, y'know?"

"I know."

After a couple more moments they keep onward. Something latches on his peripheral and he stops. In the courtyard to their right stands a boy, fists bawled and staring at the papers at his feet. Mitsukuni notices soon after him and, now fully revived as well as concerned, steps over to him.

"Hey, are you okay?" His cousin tries peeking at the boy's hidden expression, but before he gets a good look the boy runs off. Mitskuni grabs one of the few sheets from the ground and waves it around. "Hey! You forgot your papers!"

When I was a little thing, I would pretend to go on adventures. There were no other kids around for the better part of my young years and, though my parents and the house staff tried their best to fit me in their schedules, there would always be times when there was no room for me.

So, naturally, I made room for myself, a space made soley for my pudgy-legged, pigtail wearing self. These were my adventures and mine only.

I would pack a bag of provisions (mainly a juicebox and some animal crackers) and swing a pair of binoculars around my neck and just go. Not far, obviously—I was a only pipsqueak. But I would sneak in the kitchen and hide under the table as the chef whipped up miracles. I would snoop around corners and stalk the maids as they gossiped with one another. The gardeners would always get pissed when I'd trample through the freshly lain dirt to get a better look at the flowers they had planted.

And, while I said these adventures were my personal affairs, sometimes I would imagine my idol was there right alongside me. Who might that be? Oh, only the master of natural history. Discoverer of evolution and natural selection. Cute little grandpa with a killer beard.

Yeah, that's right. Charles Darwin himself.

I have never been a religious person, but oh man did I worship this guy like a god. I still do, honestly, but in a much more acceptable way. I mean, which is weirder: a six year-old asking her uncle for a hand-painted portrait of her Lord and Savior Charles Darwin, or a sixteen year-old bidding goodnight to the portrait of her lifelong hero Charles Darwin every night before she goes to bed?

There was a point to thinking about all this. Oh, right! Sorry, Darwin tends to get me a tad off track.

Anyway. When I went on these adventures, I would always bring this little notepad with me. I would write notes and doodles of whatever I saw or hypothesized—I thought I was a real explorer, okay? Well, the other day I happened across this same notepad, Suzume's Handy Dandy Super Lucky Adventuring Notepad, as I had titled it. I flipped through it, reminisced some good memories, snickered at awful drawings, and wondered at the few lines I could make out (my favorite being "What happens to adults to make them so boring?").

But I tossed it back in the bin I'd found it in, not imagining a day I'd ever use it again. As it turned out, I didn't need to imagine. Because that day is today. Monday, May 30th. Time: 12:19 and counting.

Tamaki not-so conspicuously leans over the table to peek a sneak at my scribbles and I not-so gently flip the cover shut in his face. He retreats back into his chair with a hand covering his bruised nose and whining, "Momma, did you see what Suzume-chan did to her poor cousin?"

"No, I didn't," replies Kyoya, glancing up from his textbook. "Care for a do-over?"

"I'm game if he is," I taunt the blond, smirking.

"Kyo~ya~! You're supposed to be on my side! 'What's mine is yours' applies to fights, too!"

The Mother Hen turns his book's page and says, "I don't remember vowing anything to you."

Tamaki whines and mopes the comment off as per usual before getting back to me. "All I wanted was to see what you were writing," he pouts. Then, in about as much time as it takes to snap your fingers, he begins gushing, "Oh, look at our little Suzume~! Taking secret notes like her big cousin~!"

"I'm studying, actually."

Not a lie. I am studying...a little butt-munch of a subject identified as Violin Boy because I couldn't figure out his real name. No matter which topic we covered or who taught the class, the guy would never raise his hand. It was hard to believe this was the same kid who raised his voice at Himura-san on the first day of school.

"Then why can't I see? I need to study, too!"

"I'm entitled to my privacy," I respond as I flip the notepad open again. Subject now eating what seems to be a pudding cup. Sidenote: VB had a lot of trouble peeling off the lid. Weakness = pudding cups? "And that sounds like a you-problem."

An idea twinkles above my head soon after that comment. I stow the notepad away in my bag to restrain myself from writing down the information I plan on seeking from the happy couple before me. I wait a couple minutes for good measure, too. Kyoya is more likely to give me the answers I want, as long as I ask my questions in a way that inhibits condescension or answering me with another question.

"Kyoya, you know everything, right?" I fold my hands as a gesture that this is no longer a lunchtime matter, but strictly business. "On your left, there is a kid sitting on his own by the door. Who is he?"

"Yes, I do know everything," he answers, back straightening and glasses flashing, as if he's fixing himself for a challenge, "except for your reasons behind asking me this. Why?"

Dammit, Kyoya. Condescension and a question? "Well, any good businessperson knows to keep a constant lookout for potential assets, no?"

"Oh? And whose business will this pertain to?" "Certainly not our family's, since you had your chance to play your role and ruined it."

"A business called 'None of Yours'." "Kiss my unapologetic ass."

"Gushiken Isamu," Tamaki fills in the blank. Surprise wipes both Kyoya's and my face clean of smug expressions. "He's in our homeroom. Though their names escape me, his parents are famous lawyers; they're my father's lawyers, actually, and the school's."

So, I had guessed right about not one, but three things. 1) The sender of the letters was someone in Class-2A. 2) The initials on the the stationary were written surname last. 3) This stationary was also borrowed from someone, probably one of his parents, probably to make a good impression on me.

"So," Tamaki's gooey voice calls out, "I too am curious as to why he interests you, Suzume. Why don't you tell your cousins, hmm~?"

"I think I'm in need of more studying. Midterms are right around the corner and all." I stand, carrying my tray. "And thank you for the information, Tamaki. I'll be sure to remember this."

Saying Mitsukuni had a tight grip was an understatement. The boy grabs everything in a chokehold.

As he had hoped, his cousin let Suzume's outburst go free. But only in exchange for something bigger and better to clasp his mitts around. This bigger, better hurdle is packed inside the lanky body of a second-year named Gushiken Isamu.

When he and Mitsukuni ran into the boy last week, what Isamu mumbled under his breath before bolting away had stuck to the blond boy's head like a dart to a bullseye.

"He said, 'I'm a coward. She called me a coward,'" his cousin repeated as they continued through the corridor that afternoon. "What do you think that means?"

He knew exactly what it meant. He debated telling Mitsukuni what it meant, too. Again, he was working on his own system of beliefs. These beliefs told him that if Mitsukuni should know about what occurred that day, then he would know. His cousin had all the clues, anyhow: the girl, the boy, the feelings one had shared with the other. The letters confused the kendo champion, but only for a second. Mitsukuni? Well, he was working on it.

So, he left it alone. He would not tell his relative what Isamu's words meant, because if Mitsukuni should know, he would. Instead of answering his best friend's question, he remained silent and opened the clubroom's door.

As aforementioned, his cousin was not one to easily let things go and this was proven to him that very night. His phone buzzed to life with a new text message. I figured out what the haiku mean! c: *balloon emoji**confetti horn emoji**boy and girl holding hands emoji*, Mitsukuni's message read. Another popped up immediately after: Also, do you remember when I said he looked familiar?*seven smiley face emojis*

The eldest Morinozuka son did. Mitsukuni mentioned that sometime during the car ride home, if memory served him correct. He hadn't given the comment much thought, however, because Mitsukuni was the type of person to know everyone at one time or another. But then came message number three with *four finger pointing down emojis**eyes emoji**surprised face emoji* and a picture below. It's of last year's yearbook, flipped to the page of the karate team. As he zoomed in on the part Mitsukuni circled, he saw the face of the very boy he'd seen earlier.

Ah was all he said in return.

Thinking back, maybe he should have said more. He knew the matter was nowhere near close to being settled, but he hoped it would soon be. He didn't mind Mitsukuni's interest in Isamu's business—it piqued his interest, too. But he knew Mitsukuni's curiosities about Isamu would quickly lead to Suzume, if they haven't already, and that's what worried him. The thought of causing her more headache than normal worries him.

Yet, a boy could hope, could he not?

"Listen up, men! ...And Haruhi! Your club president has a very important issue he wants to address," Tamaki declares, causing the hosts to pause in packing up for the day.

It's the second to last club meeting for the week. Though, that meant closed-doors to all guests until midterms finished, the club members often stuck around for an hour or so to study together whenever exams rolled over. And yes, they actually did study; there would always be a few jokes thrown here and there, but it was studying for the most part.

"Tono, c'mon. We wanna go home," the twins whine, despite seeming interested.

"Yeah, some of us have studying to do," Haruhi says, visibly not interested.

His cousin bounces up to the second-year and questions, "What is it, Tama-chan?"

Tamaki chuckles maniacally, his index finger and thumb clutching his chin. The sparkle in his indigo-blues foreshadow mischief. "I have come to believe our sweet little cousin," he pauses and scans the room for precaution, "has caught the lovebug."

As the twins bust their guts laughing and banging on tables, the towering third-year comes to the conclusion that yes, a boy can hope. A boy can hope all he wants, but that is in no means a guarantee for his hopes to come true.

"Wait," Kaoru says, the first of the brothers to regain composure, "where is all this coming from?"

"The president believes Suzume may have an interest in a classmate of ours by the name of Gushiken Isamu," clarifies Kyoya. He pulls up Isamu's school ID picture on his iPad screen, which sends the Hitachiins into another spurt of cackles.

"This dweeb? Are you kidding me?" Hikaru wipes the corners of his eyes. "Suzume's got some taste!"

He hears the gasp his cousin gives as he glances at the picture and meets Mitsukuni's eyes when his cousin spins around to face him. When the issue was kept to a Mitsukuni-only level, he supposed it would not escalate too much past a headache for his neighbor. But, now seeing the determination swimming in the club president's eyes, the realization of the situation's entirety widening Mitsukuni's stare—he knows this issue has escalated far past headache and into raging territory.

That's why he says nothing. No words known to man will stop the inevitable maelstrom brewing around them. All he can do is hope this is another Kami-given hurdle for Suzume to reign down upon.

The conclusion to the anonymous haiku couldn't have come at a better time. Now that I've been relieved of my detective duties, I can actually focus on schoolwork, and I definitely need to. Sure, I've been keeping tabs on the culprit, but that is purely for precaution and reference for any trouble he could cause me in the future.

Keep thine enemies close and such, you know?

Anyway, I made up my mind to ditch the last Host Club session in favor of joining my bed in holy mattress-mony (do you get it?); I didn't bother with my cello or tying my hair in its usual bun, either.

When I spot Kenta in the line of suited chauffeurs parked on Ouran's front curb, my phone vibrates in my hand. A text from an unknown number shows. Hello my darling cherry blossom, this is your cousin speaking! Would you be so kind as to join us in the clubroom for a moment?

How the hell he got my number, I don't know but I have a few guesses (all by the name of Kyoya).

I'm not coming today, I send back.

Tamaki: We have a surprise for you~!

Me: I hate surprises.

Tamaki: Not this one ;p

Me: I don't have my cello.

Tamaki: You won't need it! Please please please come up, won't you?! *crying sad face emoji*

"Something the matter, young miss?" asks Kenta as he holds out the passenger door.

I sigh and answer, "I have some business to handle, it seems. Would it be too much to ask that you wait here for me?"

The burly driver smiles and nods. "It's no problem at all. Take your time, young miss."

It was not Tamaki's pleading that persuaded me to reenter the building. Just as I said I would, I remember the information the boy supplied me with free of charge. And, while this is a courtesy to the Host Club's king for his kindness, this is also a courtesy to my own sanity. I'd be damned if I ever fall in debt to any one of the members of this wretched club.

I don't bother waiting for the door to fully open when I say, "What do you want?"

Candles. Scented, but of what I'm not sure. It may be a plethora of things. The room is dark with the curtains drawn and hundreds of candles surrounding the room from end to end. Dining music plays in the shadows, heavy with the weight of pianos and other string instruments. The hosts stand before me, donning waiter uniforms.

"We've been waiting for you, mademoiselle," greets Tamaki. He bows at once and the rest of the hosts follow in succession.

I blink once, twice. On the third, I turn on my heels, saying, "Well, I guess you'll just have to wait some more."

"Please, Suzu-chan~!" Honey hugs my waist in a matter of seconds. When I look down at him, he releases me and hops back a few paces. "Please, wait."

I feel bad for snapping at him the other day. Honey was just acting on his gentlemanly manners and, although I had no desire or need for that, he was just trying to be nice. Again, for my own conscience's sake, I relent.

Facing the head buffoon, I say, "You said this was a surprise I'd want. What in your right mind thinks I'd want this, you liar?"

Tamaki smiles and plays it off with a nervous laugh. "Now, now, Suzume, if you'd just follow me."

I try resisting, but the demon twins push me down a rose-petal trail to a table in the center of the room and shove me in to a seat. As one brother ties a napkin around my neck, I command the other, "You better tell me what's going on right now."

The Hitachiins share a smirk and glide over to the door of the cake room. "Why would we tell you when he can~!"

The door opens and a spotlight flashes on the very boy I hoped to be done with. Gushiken Isamu fumbles in the doorway, clad in a classic tuxedo and wearing his mop of hair slicked back.

I jolt up from my seat so fast the chair falls down to the floor. "What the hell is he doing here?" I growl to no one, everyone.

"Surprise~!" The twins wiggle their spirit-fingers. "It's the love of your life~!"

"I thought I told you to stay away from me."

As the twins drag him closer, he utters, "I...I'm trying!"

It seems like deja-vu. Me, glaring him down. Him, staring at his shoes. "You call this trying to stay away from me?"

"It...uh...I—"

"Don't play hard to get, Suzume," Hikaru (?) taunts, him and his brother leaning on each of my shoulders.

"Yeah, we all know the way you feel about ol' Isamu here~!"

Together, they announce, "Otherwise, why would Tono go through all this trouble to get you two lovebirds together~?"

My glare settles on the idiot prince at once. Immediately, he uses Kyoya as his shield. "Now, listen Suzume, your big cousin just wanted to do something nice—"

"Nice? You call this nice?"

"I just thought this was what you wanted!"

I stop some paces before him. "How could you know at all what I want? Did you think to ask me before you made your foolish assumptions?"

"If Tamaki had asked you about his foolish assumptions, would you have given him an answer?" Kyoya retorts.

"Wow. Look at you, Kyoya. Wife of the year." His allusion is right, of course. I wouldn't have told anyone—I didn't tell anyone, because it's no one else's business but mine and Shaggy's over there in the corner. "Don't you people have something—anything—better to do with yourselves than be nose-deep in others' business twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week?"

"They did it for me, Ootori-sama!" Our heads turn toward Isamu, whose head snaps forward in an instant. "Don't...don't be upset with them, Ootori-sama. I-It's because of me that all this is happening...so please don't be mad at them."

Just as Isamu's last word spill into the air, some kind of alarm beeps awake. Before any of us can question what it is, the sprinklers pour out onto us.

"Good going, Tono."

—

Once we've regrouped, (the hosts and Isamu in their school uniforms, myself in a gym sweatsuit procured from Tamaki's treasure chest of crap, and the clubroom spontaneously returned to its typical pristine condition) I sit on the couch with the Club huddled around me as Isamu sits opposite us.

"I don't know what you expect me to say to you. I said all I had to the other day," I start since he clearly won't.

"Isamu told us what happened, Suzume," Tamaki explains, "and from the sounds of it, you were the one who did all the talking."

"Out of everyone in the room, you have the least right to talk, Pinocchio." I set my sights on the club president and he's already shrunk himself behind Kyoya, barely a blond hair poking out behind my cousin's figure.

Honey chirps up beside me, "I think what Tama-chan's trying to say is that, although Isamu wrote down all the things he feels for you, he wanted to say them to you, too. He just didn't get the chance."

"But I gave him the chance—multiple chances. See? Speak!" I order the boy. All he does is tense up more.

"Jeez, Suzu-senpai, he's not a dog," comments Kaoru (or whichever's the nicest).

"More like a frog prince. Kiss him and see what happens!" Haruhi slaps Hikaru with a book and elicits an apology from the first-year. As he rubs the growing bump on the top of his skull, he questions, "And anyway, isn't it obvious why he can talk to everyone except you, Suzu-senpai?"

"The answer is quite simple, really!" shouts a faceless voice.

The floor quakes with a single pulse, surprising only Isamu as smoke billows out in front of us. Renge spins up out of the pit on a stage, a dry-erase board resting beside her. "Isamu, a quiet boy with a heart screaming for the love of Suzume, a straightforward girl who's as blind to his feelings as she is deaf!"

She ever so dramatically swings her fan our way. "But what truly makes this love story more tragic than Romeo and Juliet is that Isamu's very love is also his greatest fear!"

I turn to the boy and again his vision flees mine. "You're afraid of me? Why?"

"Haven't we told you a thousand times?" the twins respond. "You're just too scary~!"

Scary? I'm not scary. I'm too short to be scary.

"'I'm too short to be scary', is what you must be thinking! So, let me put it in a way you can understand!" Renge twirls the board and suddenly there's a spectrum of faces running along it. One end is labeled adorable and the other says terrifying. Renge points to each of them separately and gives her own commentary about them.

Honey comes first: "Honey-senpai's face is his entire charm! He's cuter than a baby cursing or a bunny eating raspberries!"

The Hitachiin brothers: "Devilishly handsome and very approachable!"

Haruhi: "If not for his innocent, doe-like eyes his expression would be neutral at best!"

Tamaki: "Eh."

Kyoya: "Charming enough to want as your friend, yet stern enough to relay that he should not be crossed!"

Mori: "The face of a warrior scarred by the deaths of his friends and allies on the battlefield!"

At the far end is me: "As beautiful as a Greek goddess, but her stare will rip you to shreds faster than any three-headed hound would!"

"See?" chime the twins again as Renge plummets back into the depths of Ouran. "Scary."

"That...um, that may be so but..." Isamu quivers in his seat. "But the first time I saw Ootori-sama, she didn't look as she usually does. The first time I saw her was at the scholarship competition and I had already given my performance, so I was sitting in the crowd with my parents, watching the other contestants. I guess she did look a bit intimidating at first, but the way she looked when she played...Ootori-sama...well, I guess there isn't a word for it."

Something that I never in a million years would have guess to happen follows: the clubroom is silent. But, of course, Tamaki is swift to fill it in with his cries.

"Oh, Isamu, that was so heartwarming~!" he sobs. "Suzume, you have to say yes~! You have to accept his feelings~!"

"How many times have I told you to stop touching me?" I yell as the princely host clings to my body, wiping his tears and snot all over my shoulder. "You're disgusting! Get off!"

"Let's pretend for a second here that Suzu-senpai didn't already reject your feelings," says Kaoru. "You can't even look at her."

His brother adds, "Yeah, what makes you think you can have a relationship with her if you can't even manage that?"

Isamu's head still lays low, but it shakes side to side. "While Ootori-sama is intimidating and brutally honest, she's also shown herself to be considerate and noble. It would be the greatest honor to have any kind of relationship with Ootori-sama, but I didn't confess my feelings to her with the expectation that she would return them. I confessed so that she could hear them and I could move on. I would love to be with someone like Ootori-sama, but if she doesn't feel the same, then I will accept it."

"Thank you, Isamu," I address the boy. He looks up at me as I stand and his hazel-brown eyes sit wide behind his thick lenses. "While I can't accept your feelings, I thank you for them and the kind words you've said. It seems you're not as much of a coward as I thought."

He nearly bends himself in half trying to bow to me. "O-o-of course, Ootori-sama!"

My classmate escapes the Host Club's clutches soon after this exchange. I round the couch and go to the board Renge left behind. The chibi-version of my face sits at the leftmost extreme with my eyes narrowed into slits and snakes slithering from my scalp.

"So," I say to the club of idiots, "am I really this scary?"

All the hosts concur together, in one way or another, that this is exactly how they see me.

Although it is a perfect spring day outside, cool and without a cloud in sight, the Host Club can't mistake the sound of thunder clapping in the distance as their cellist laughs. "Interesting."

That's all, folks~! How was it? Like you expected? I'm not quite done with Isamu just yet, so if you did like him, he'll apprear again sometime soon! If not, well I hope he grows on you!

Also, just in case you are confused, this chapter takes place over a few days. When the short lines like this — are used, it means the events that follow it occur in the same day as the ones before it. When the long line is used, it means the following events are either a different day or a different perspective completely. Just a tidbit in case you didn't catch on c:

TTFN cuties!