A Guard in Gowns and Roses

by IceCandi

The Shadow King has one Shadow under his command, a guard who would do anything to protect the Host Club. A princess who has fallen from the tower, Hanako Negida's duty is now to serve and protect the third son of the Ootori family. On her path to restoring her empire, can she salvage anything from the ashes or are those bonds lost forever? (KyoyaXOCXMori)

33. A Promise Fulfilled

Hanako woke up on the second day of the Ouran Fair to the rhythm of keys clacking away nearby. The fresh, clean scent of invigorating mint clung to the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and her tired eyes slowly opened to the dimly lit room, focusing on Kyoya's back as he typed. She shifted, and he heard the rustle of the fabric as she drew herself up to sit on the couch.

"I fell asleep," she stated, voice still thick with sleep. He didn't say anything, and she wondered how long he had been sitting at that table. They had gotten to work the previous night as soon as they returned home from the disastrous first day of the Fair. Neither of them spoke a word about Tamaki's declaration, nor did they address her private audience with their mutual friend. The time for that would come eventually, but there was far too much happening now to succumb to personal distractions. No, it was better to channel their hurt and anger into productivity. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

He hadn't changed out of the white shirt and ivory trousers that the hosts had worn. His hair had been forced out of place by his frustrated hand over and over again until it fell across his face and shot out in all directions. "I slept for a few hours," he answered off-handedly. She knew what that meant. Two, maybe three hours all night – likely discontinuous. Hanako slid from the couch and walked to the coffee bar. She hadn't changed, either. Her white shirt wrinkled terribly, and one of the folded sleeves had come loose in her sleep. The first day bled into the second for them. It was worse than any day or night that they had ever worked because this time, if they miscalculated, they would lose far more than just money.

She didn't want to think about it. So, she busied herself with the espresso machine. Rich, luxurious coffee in equally high-end white cups. Keeping her hands busy helped herd her thoughts. The cold ceramic pieces steadied her while the ground under her feet turned to quicksand and threatened to swallow not just her but the kingdom she worked so hard to maintain. She poured one cup. Then, the other. She set them on dishes, placed those on a tray, and carried it back to the coffee table.

"I couldn't sleep with everything that needed to be done," Kyoya admitted when she put down the tray in front of him. He didn't stop typing. They were focused people, Hana and Kyoya, so focused that they couldn't find any distractions from their pains other than the ones that they could obsess over and work on until there was nothing left to do but address the issue.

But they promised not to do that anymore.

Hana reached out and lightly touched the back of his hand. Kyoya stilled, hands still poised over the keyboard. "No matter what happens today," she said steadily despite the fear threatening to overtake them both, "I am incredibly honored and proud to be your friend."

It wasn't enough. They both recognized it, but it would have to do. Kyoya knew what he wanted to hear, and she knew what she wanted to say. Except, the circumstances hadn't changed in their favor, and they stood on even unsteadier ground than before. It wasn't enough, but it was more than they had allowed themselves up to that point.

"Likewise," he said simply, forcing his tone to sound neutral. As if his soul didn't sing for her and cry out for more in the same, singular beat of his heart.

"I'll have Aijima send breakfast to the room," she stated simply, moving to the telephone and placing a call to the kitchen before returning to her usual place beside him, quickly identifying the papers she was working on the previous night and catching up to Kyoya's current work. They fell into a steady flow. Cooperation was second nature to them at this point, and with so much on the line, they had never done better work.

Sacrifices had been made along the way, but if this worked, it would be worth it. With every fluid pass of the book between them and every clack of the keys as Kyoya typed, the two of them surrendered more and more of themselves to the positions they occupied. With every long night and every cup of coffee, they came closer together professionally and drifted further apart personally. They couldn't have it both ways, and the line distinguishing between the two facets of their lives blurred and blurred until they ran together like errant colors on a canvas.

The truth about Hanako and Kyoya had changed over the years, but some things would always stay the same. For example, they had too much to gain from this arrangement and from the Host Club for it to slip away from them now. There was simply too much at stake for them to be selfish.

{OR}

There had always been very few surprises at Ouran Academy, but Hanako found herself wishing for one as the Host Club convened for what could very well be the last time. The atmosphere in Music Room 3 was void of the whimsy and fantasy that had always been synonymous with their kingdom. Hanako didn't bother herself with preparing the cakes or putting the finishing touches on the hosts' costumes.

She sat on one of the plush velvet sofas and leaned back against the supportive cushions. Her worn, leatherbound binder lay open across her lap, and her fingertips played with the curling pages that had been the very first inventory they ever took. Hana liked to think that she never depended on anyone for anything. She wanted to believe that she had been strong enough to never ask for help no matter how badly she needed it. She would have liked to say that she did it all by herself, but that wasn't true in the slightest.

She had been drowning when she met Tamaki. Yoshio Ootori threw her a life vest and told her to swim, but it was Tamaki who extended his hand to her and pulled her to shore. There was strength in admitting defeat and in acknowledging personal limitations. There was greater strength in accepting help when it is offered and in the ability to ask for it. Somehow, Tamaki knew exactly what they needed and provided it to each of them all by himself, and despite everything he managed to teach them in the brief time they had known each other, he never asked them to do the same for him.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Hana closed the binder and looked up at Kaoru. They rarely had moments alone together since she and Hikaru repaired the damage done to their relationship, but it was a small loss that brought them an expanse of joy. "Tamaki changed my life, you know," she admitted to him with a faraway look in her eyes.

"He has a habit of doing that," he chuckled, but it was heavy with sadness and fear of what was to come after that day.

Habit couldn't begin to explain the depth of Tamaki's empathy. It bordered on compulsion. His drive to bestow happiness onto every person he came across never waned despite how grim the scenario seemed. "Do you know why he does it?"

Kaoru blinked in surprise. Hana wasn't looking at him anymore. Her golden caramel eyes turned back down to the cover of that binder she carried everywhere. She passed her fingertips over the stamped Ouran seal on the cover so tenderly that it could have been love welling in her eyes as she gazed upon it. He always thought that it was because of Tamaki's family and the complications that came with being the chairman's bastard son. The friendships Tamaki was deprived of and the family he was torn from.

"He's oblivious when it comes to himself, but he's not stupid. Tamaki knows himself so well that he can recognize the very same demons in other people as soon as he meets them. He knows exactly what he needs, but he has no idea how to acquire it for himself. So, he finds these scraps of joy in giving it to the people around him."

Kaoru didn't try to fill the silence with empty words. It was clear that each of the members had their own way of coping with Tamaki's sudden announcement the day before. Hikaru had been agitated and restless, snapping at anyone and anything that got on his nerves, but nobody said anything. Nobody said anything if Kyoya worked a little harder or if Honey held on to Usa-chan a little bit tighter. Haruhi seemed to be doing her best to act as if she wasn't bothered by what happened, but even she couldn't carry on as normally as she wanted to.

When Hana kicked them out of the room before, nobody thought twice about it. Kaoru had even thought that she would be able to fix everything – that the heart and soul of the Host Club would be able to work things out together if the mind and body weren't there with them. He and Hikaru even expected a call first thing in the morning – something to tell them that it had been sorted out and nothing was going to change. Then, the call never came, and they realized that whatever happened was bigger than even what Hanako and Tamaki could accomplish together.

Hana set her binder on the coffee table. Kaoru had never noticed how much the leather aged over the past two years. It was wrinkling at the spine and peeling in the corners from use. There were imprints in the cushioning where it had been held most frequently, and probably where it most often collided with their heads when Hana lost her patience. All the imperfections were easy repairs, and she could have had those done at any time. Yet, her leatherbound clipboard displayed all its wear and tear proudly, as if every imperfection reflected a memory she could hold in her own two hands.

She rose to her feet gracefully and gathered her long dark hair over her shoulder. He was tall enough now to look her in the eyes without tilting his head back, and when she brought her gaze to his, he wondered fleetingly when they had grown so much.

"We should join the rest of the club," Hana suggested with an unsteady smile, unsure if that would be the last time she ever got to say those words. Kaoru offered his arm to his godsister, and she hooked her hand onto the crook of his elbow.

He glanced back at the binder sitting alone on the coffee table.

"I won't need it today," she assured him, confidence replacing the uncertainty that had been there just a moment ago. She brought her finger to her forehead, "I have everything I need in here."

Finally, he smiled at her, and the two of them made their way to the main sitting room where the hosts lined up for her inspection as usual. Hanako let go of her godbrother's arm and stood between the doors and the Host Club like she always did.

They looked perfect. There was nothing that she could do for them that they hadn't been able to do for each other. These were the most handsome students that Ouran Academy had to offer, but the ritual of preparing for club activities brought them closer than anyone would ever imagine from the picture of their perfection. The fear of displacement didn't well up in her like it used to when they managed without her. Instead, pure, unadultered pride filled her. Pride in them for being able to find comfort in each other and pride in herself for being able to be a part of this.

"Everyone ready?" she asked, voice thick with love for this family she thought that she would never have again.

"Ready," they replied collectively. None of them knew what awaited them outside those doors, but they would face it together, just like they always did.

Hanako Negida turned on her heel and wrapped her hands around the golden handles, drawing the doors apart, "Then we're open for business." There was no retreating out of frame this time. All she could do was move forward, knowing that she had them at her back.

The salon was no less crowded or lively than it had been the day before. The Host Club continued to entertain the general public, and to all the world they seemed exactly as they had been the day before. After they made their entrance, Hanako melted into the shadows. She kept a closer eye on her clubmates, ready to intervene if their facades slipped or if they needed any support that she could offer. Security was her job, but it had never been her priority. They were, and that would never change.

She observed from afar as Kyoya approached Éclair with a teacup in hand. The socialite watched him through her ridiculous binoculars, and Hanako's protectiveness flared. If she despised the Host Club so much, why did she bother attending their event? Although, she was glad it was Kyoya who approached. He was the most practiced at wearing his mask, and judging from the dark aura radiating from Hikaru, there was no amount of damage control that could save face if he had a chance to get two words out to the unwanted guest.

The original members of the Host Club gravitated back towards each other as Éclair traded Kyoya for Haruhi. It was reflexive, now. In times when they felt threatened and uncertain, they banded closer together, and they didn't even realize how natural it had become.

"I wonder what happened to Tama-chan," Mitukuni voiced with Usa-chan still pressed to his chest.

"I'm getting worried," Hikaru stated, "something's up with him. After what he said yesterday… Nee-chan, did he say anything to you?"

Four sets of eyes turned to her, an assortment of apprehension, fear, and hope all in different measures waiting for her to give them some sort of clue that they may have missed. "Tamaki…" she started, considering what was best for all of them, "needs us to take care of the Club."

It was vague and unhelpful, and they could tell that she was holding out on them. Yet, they didn't ask for more. Each of them had gone to her in confidence at one point or another. She knew things about them that they had never even spoken to each other, and they trusted her with those confessions. She was a vault, and it was a principle of hers not to break their trust. They had to respect that, even if it only made them more afraid.

"All right, gentlemen," Kyoya cut through the somber air that settled over them with brisk claps, "no more idle chatter. Our guests are waiting for us."

"Senpai, it's like you don't even care," Kaoru protested.

"It's our job to take care of our guests to the best of our abilities." Kyoya reminded them and pushed his glasses further up on his nose, "Remember, they're looking to all of us to entertain them. Their happiness is of the utmost importance."

The twins grumbled quietly, displeased but unwilling to put up a fight. Hanako passed her gaze over Kyoya, seeing the thick binder she left in club room tucked under his arm and the tiredness he refused to acknowledge dulling his eyes.

"He's right, Kao-chan!" Mitsukuni suddenly chirruped, pushing Kaoru towards the crowd.

Takashi followed with a bland expression and wrapped his arm around Hikaru's narrow shoulders, "Come on, Hikaru."

Hanako stood across from Kyoya. What they had in this moment couldn't be called privacy, but they were alone with the crumbling foundation of the Host Club balanced precariously on their backs. They had nothing to say to each other. The Host Club was without its very heart, and it was all the two could do to hold the rest of them together.

Kyoya turned slightly, looking back over his shoulder to the table Éclair and Haruhi occupied. The debutante had just risen from her seat, leaving Haruhi staring down at the tabletop. "It's time to tell Haruhi the truth," Kyoya stated, extending the clipboard to Hanako.

For the first time in her life, she hesitated to take it, but like clockwork, she accepted and followed him back to that table. Hanako stood silently behind Kyoya, back as straight as a rod and hands folded behind her back. Two steps forward, three steps back. It was always like that with them.

"Thank you for all of your hard work, Haruhi," Kyoya said lightly. "After that request from Lady Éclair, your debt has been paid. You've finally repaid us for that Renaissance vase you broke. So, you're free to quit the Host Club, if you want."

Her chocolate eyes widened as she processed what Kyoya just said to her, and her attention flickered between the vice-president and the security guard, as if one of them would tell her what to do next. When neither of them did, she looked back down to the table. Footsteps approached from the side, and Hanako turned her head entirely.

She wasn't surprised to see Yoshio Ootori approaching them, followed by his secretary. His presence didn't affect her the way it had the previous day. In the span of another twenty four hours, she was once again on the verge of losing everything she held dear. Compared to that, Yoshio Ootori was a minor threat. Hana and the secretary bent at the waist at the same time, each showing their respect to the other Ootori family member.

"When they're young, many assume they have all the time in the world, but really, that is never the case. Don't waste your time with something that will ultimately have no value."

"You don't know anything about the Host Club," Haruhi's outburst shattered the familiar silence that always followed in Yoshio's wake. "Kyoya-senpai works around the clock to make sure that everyone here is enjoying themselves, and did you ever stop to think that entertaining others might give each of us some fulfillment?"

Haruhi had nerve unlike anything Hanako had ever seen. She spoke when and how she wanted to. She didn't comply with rules of etiquette, and she charged headfirst when she should wait and think. In that moment, Haruhi stood up for Kyoya in the very way that Hanako had always failed to. Hana could see how much it touched him. She knew how much it meant to him that someone would stand up to his father without care for the repercussions or for the implications of such an act. His slate gray eyes held her with such awe that Hanako felt herself losing a battle she hadn't even started the longer his eyes were on Haruhi.

Hanako's intuition never failed her, and she had known for some time that Haruhi offered more than she ever could. Haruhi was unlimited in more ways than Hanako could name. She was headstrong and truly free. The rules of their society didn't apply to an outsider like Haruhi, and it showed. Haruhi had freedom unlike any of them, and no matter how Hanako felt, she could never wish a cage of any kind upon her friend. If Kyoya wanted to pursue Haruhi, he had every right to.

If he loved her, there was nothing beyond his love for Tamaki stopping him from pursuing her. There were no watchful eyes and malicious whispers following Haruhi. There were no roles set in stone – no history – that could ruin them. Even if he didn't want to pursue her, the fact remained that he could.

"I don't care what you say. I think Kyoya-senpai is amazing."

Hana felt her heart beating in every part of her body. She agreed with the sentiment whole heartedly, but hearing it out loud in someone else's voice felt like broken glass in her veins. She was torn between admiration for Haruhi and resentment for words that she could never say so boldly. She felt guilty for even thinking it. She had no claim to Kyoya, and he didn't owe her anything beyond the agreement they had come to. Hanako couldn't decide what was worse – her envy for Haruhi's freedom to do what she couldn't, or her jealousy over the look in Kyoya's eyes when he gazed at Haruhi.

Yoshio didn't betray any response to Haruhi's outburst. The former Ice King of Ouran Academy simply continued at an even pace, not dignifying her declaration with a response. "Negida," he summoned her without looking back or pausing. He expected her to follow.

Hana's feet felt heavy. She wanted to stay at Kyoya's side. If she couldn't voice her own thoughts, then she could at least show him that support. Yet, she didn't want to be a shadow hovering behind he and Haruhi after that display. More importantly, she couldn't refuse a direct order in front of so many people. Hana steeled herself. She drew back her shoulders and held her head higher. If Haruhi could do that in front of all those people, then Hanako could handle a private audience with her employer. She strode after Yoshio. She didn't even notice Kyoya's fingertips reaching out to catch her wrist.

He missed her by a breath. All he caught was empty air, and his hand dropped back to his side.

She was angry. It wasn't the kind of anger meant for one person or thing. She had known anger like that. The anger she felt towards the Komatsuzawas. The humiliation and outrage at their absence of basic human decency and respect made sense. That kind of anger was understandable. No, the anger Hanako felt now was more layered and complex, and with every passing hour of this day, it just kept building and growing.

She followed Yoshio out through the doors of the salon and into the dimly lit corridor. The school heated its interior regardless of how much use it would see during the fair. However, the entire length of the walk felt cold and dreary in Yoshio's presence.

"We've been receiving messages from the Matsura family requesting to meet with you," he stated promptly. As always, the man betrayed no sympathy for her in his tone. "They want to discuss your place in the family."

"I don't want anything to do with them." Hanako's response came out flat and immediate. She hadn't heard anything from the Matsuras since that day in Karuizawa. She had no idea how long they had been pestering the Ootori patriarch. Hana could only imagine why they decided to try again after all these years. Kyoya's father looked tired. Tired, she suspected, for the same reasons his son had been exhausted for the past week. Except, exhaustion on Kyoya meant disheveled hair and obsidian dark eyes. On Yoshio, it was deepened frown lines and harsher shadows across his face.

"They're your grandparents," Yoshio's tone suggested that she owed them some respect for that. Her face spasmed distastefully, as if she couldn't quite hold back the disgust she felt at the reminder of her relation to the manipulative family. Then, it settled back into her passive frown with her brows drawn together above her nose. "They came across you in Karuizawa," he continued. "no doubt the fault of the Host Club."

The way her club's name fell from his tongue struck a match under the simmering frustration she had been mulling over for the past day. He was judging them for something that he didn't even know about, and he passed blame on them as if he had already decided they were the problem, not her.

Of course, that wasn't entirely the case. His dark eyes narrowed on Hanako, peering down on her with disappointment and disapproval. "How could you have been so reckless?" he hissed at her sharply. "Heading into your family's stronghold like that as if they wren't going to find you? How careless."

"They are not my family," Hanako snapped back with sudden vehemence. The last threads holding together her patience slipped through her fingers, and she glared openly at him. She had her family. "They gave up that privilege when they disowned my mother. With all due respect, sir, you weren't meant to be my guardian, either. The whole point of this deal was to keep the Matsuras away from me and salvage what we could of the Black Onion Squad."

He offered no objection. His eyes narrowed further, as if the reminder only further displeased him. Perhaps he regretted it or despised her, or maybe he was just disappointed by how little she could benefit his family. It was, after all, sentimentality that urged him to take her in. He had expectations of her – wildly unattainable expectations. Yoshio Ootori was a man who set the bar high based on what he knew from experience. If Kyoya's brothers were exceptional, then he, too, should be exceptional. If Hanako's parents had been upstanding, dedicated, ambitious, unbridled, and brilliant, then she, too, must be the same.

"I don't want anything to do with that family," she reiterated, feeling like the child she had been when he first extended the offer to her and put an end to the custody war raging between the Matsuras and the Hitachiins. A child playing at adulthood.

"Even in their current state, they're still equal to the Ootori and Suoh families," Yoshio stated. His words fell somewhere between a reminder and a warning. "I can only keep you away from them for so long. There are times, when looking at the big picture, that one must work with undesirable parties for the more desirable outcome. The company would be further along if you swallowed your pride and utilized their resources."

When he said that, she knew this wasn't just about her. The Ootori Group was, for the first time since the war, struggling to hold their seat of power. What could have very well been well-meaning advice, sounded like unwanted criticism. She had no idea what Yoshio was considering under these circumstances, but she knew what lines she would never cross. Utilizing Matsura resources meant the same thing as crawling back to Shiori and Kosuke. It meant acknowledging that they had a right to her. . She could handle losses. She could live with disappointment, but the defeat associated with going to the Matsuras was something she would never stand for.

"I don't care." The words came out unwavering, confident in the truth behind them. "I will not disgrace my parents' memory by going to them."

Hanako entered this agreement with Yoshio as a naïve, inexperienced child who had never once sat in a negotiation. She agreed to a deal that gave her the short end of the stick, and it was still better than the other prospects that had been available to her at the time. However, she had grown since then. She had learned to set her boundaries and keep them.

Yoshio stared her down, gaze cold and unimpressed by her sudden backbone. She had never been so insolent, and self-doubt lurched in her gut. She had never spoken to him like that, and it was only because of Haruhi's audacity and her fizzling self-control that she reminded him why any of this really mattered to her. Hanako realized a long time ago that Yoshio coped with his grief differently than she or her godmother did. He clung to the memory of his dead friends and simultaneously thrust them as far from his mind as possible.

Perhaps that was why he could never stand to see her for more than brief moments at a time.

"Go," his dismissal sounded hollow and tired, as if he didn't care or have the energy for this conversation with her.

Hanako bowed at the waist stiffly, barking a sharp 'sir' before turning on her heel and striding back into the salon. She always felt small after speaking with Yoshio Ootori. He had a way of looking down on people that made it so, and this was no exception. Finally, she had been able to disagree, but the conversation had sent a rush of adrenaline through her. The fear of how that conversation could have ended wrapped its hand around her heart and squeezed. The implications of what he had said settled in her mind.

When she returned to the salon, her hands were trembling.

Kyoya noticed it immediately when she reached for the folder. She held onto it as if she would collapse to her knees if she didn't have it in her grasp. "What was that about?" he asked her, concerned for her and wary of any more impediments arising before the end of the day.

"It's not a problem," she stated, steadying herself as she opened the padfolio and found the most recent page they had worked on. "We have bigger things to worry about."

{OR}

Tamaki picked the theme this time. Everything about the club's contribution to the parade had been determined and arranged by their president. While unconventional, even for them, the historical French aesthetic suited the hosts. The bright colors and flamboyant design spoke to the nature of their kingdom, but without their king, it felt incomplete.

Hanako leaned against the windowpane while Kyoya stonily held his phone up to his ear. They hadn't heard from Tamaki all day. He wasn't answering their texts or calls, and Hanako was considering whether or not she should go track him down herself if for no other reason than to confirm the state of his well-being.

"Kyoya-senpai," Haruhi's dry complaint sounded, "what's with this outfit?" The two distracted club officers looked up.

"We told you. It's a costume for the special parade."

"You look so cute, Haru-chan!" Mitsukuni exclaimed. Hanako smiled faintly at the effort he made to keep spirits high. He was right, of course. The pink gown and large bow in combination with Haruhi's long wig evoked an absolutely precious image. The girl seated looked to be a far cry from the drab honor student who stumbled across their kingdom in the spring.

"I don't understand. Why am I the only person dressed as a girl?"

"Aw, come on. It's cosplay, so it's okay for you to dress as a girl."

"I am one you know," Haruhi grumbled before looking up at the other girl in the room. Hanako was the only one who hadn't changed, and something about the black fabric seemd ominous under the light of the golden hour. Hanako wore her hair up in a high ponytail, still, and it cascaded over her shoulder. She had only briefly looked up at Haruhi, but after taking in the sight of her clubmates, her eyes fell back to the grid cast in shadows upon the floor, losing herself in her thoughts.

Haruhi rarely saw Hana look so contemplative. It was a hard expression encompassing concern and impatience, as if the older girl was thinking about her next move in a game of chess that only she and Kyoya could see.

"Hana-senpai," Haruhi called, disrupting the focus on Hanako's face, "Are you going to dress up, too?" The younger girl thought that this would be an event for the entire Host Club. They were already dealing with enough without Tamaki joining them. It felt wrong to have Hana separate from them, too.

Understanding melted the severity of her expression, and Hanako's features settled into a soft, neutral expression more like what Haruhi had come to associate with her friend. "I'm still working," Hana reminded her.

"You're always working," the twins chorused with identical eye rolls before snickering.

Then, Kaoru turned his gaze to the boy standing on the other side of the window and sombered. They had been at this almost all day. "Well?"

"No luck," Kyoya reported. "He's not there." Kyoya snapped his phone closed sharply. Alarms went off in Hanako's head. That wasn't like Tamaki. This whole day wasn't like Tamaki. He was the first person to call them and the first to pick up when they called. He had never been unavailable to them, before.

"I can't believe senpai didn't show." Hanako dragged her gaze up from the floor to Haruhi. The sadness written on the girl's face echoed the sadness radiating from the other hosts, but it was the first time that Hana had ever seen Haruhi so melancholy. "I really thought he was gonna make it, despite what she said."

Her words washed over the club, bringing out the feelings of fear, concern, and sorrow that they had tried to keep in check to the surface. Every face in the room turned sullen. They were connected in ways people couldn't even imagine. These superficial, mischievous young men and women who got into trouble as much as they were able to resolve it were and always had been more than anyone ever gave them credit for. They were a family in every possible sense of the word. Some of them were bound by blood, others by experience, but they were a family nonetheless. This wasn't playing house. This was understanding and love and compassion that ran deeper than beauty and wealth and name.

As much as he protested, Kyoya mothered them. He nurtured them and indulged them despite his own sense. He kept them in line, but he did what he had to do to make them happy. Hanako had seen through their time working together how he pulled strings for them. He went out of his way to make whatever they want work. He had developed an affinity for them, and he knew, almost as well as Tamaki did, what they needed and when they needed it.

Hanako kicked off the wall at the same moment that Kyoya's cell phone snapped open again. Distinct yet synchornous, the two of them had already set a routine in place that they hadn't even realized. The club needed them; they would be there.

Kyoya's thumb traveled across the keyboard, and Hanako took poised steps towards the hosts. They huddled together when they felt helpless, shielding their most vulnerable members at the center of the hoard. Hanako knew because she had been there, and she joined them. This time, she stepped around the coffee table and sat down on its polished surface right in front of Haruhi.

"Are you worried about him?" Hanako asked in a low, soothing voice.

"We're all worried about him," Haruhi answered quietly. The older girl shook her head before looking to each of the boys around them. She inclined her head to the side silently, signaling for them to disperse, and they spread out further around the floor.

With the semblance of privacy, Hanako continued, "I'm not asking about everyone else. I'm asking about you." She leaned forward on her thighs, looking Haruhi in the eye. Haruhi remembered Hana saying something similar when she first joined the Host Club. The circumstances had been different, but the seriousness in Hana's caramel irises hadn't changed. The attention to Haruhi hadn't changed.

Hanako had a way of making someone feel like they were the center of her world. Haruhi learned early that Hanako wasn't invested in the Host Club as an organization. She saw everyone as an individual. She looked a person in the eyes regardless of whether she was building them up or cutting them down. She knew everything about everyone in Ouran Academy, and even though she never lorded that over the rest of them, just the awareness of her knowledge was enough to make anyone feel exposed when they sat under the golden bath of her gaze.

Haruhi remained silent.

Hanako's expression shifted again. The concern in her gaze morphed into affection for the younger girl. Haruhi and Renge had filled empty spaces within their club that none of them had even known were there. It was impossible not to like Haruhi. She was sweet and dense yet harsh and quick-witted all at the same time. She grounded them when it was so easy for them to fly too high or sink too low.

"You know," Hanako started with her fingers threaded together between her knees. Her attentive caramel colored eyes were so hypnotic that Haruhi couldn't look away despite how vulnerable she felt. "Of all the girls I've seen around Tamaki, there has never been a single one who has cared about him like you have."

Haruhi blinked in disbelief, shooting to sit up straight in surprise, "That's not true, senpai, I…"

"Haruhi," Hanako interjected gently, and the other girl's mouth snapped shut. "I see everything that happens at Ouran, and I know that it is."

Hana had eyes and ears everywhere. Invisible, unseen figures lurking in the shadows fed her information ranging from the mundane and useless to the incriminating and the scandalous. There was nothing that slipped by her, and when it came to her home base and to the people she cared about most in the world, she was hyper vigilant.

She had seen from the start how the boys took to Haruhi – someone novel and uninvolved. She watched from the sidelines as their needs to be seen and recognized by fresh eyes deepened their interest into something new and unexplored. Hanako had known them all intimately. She was a sister, a fiancee, and a friend. She was mending fences and building bridges, and it was not up to her to tear walls down. Yet, that is exactly what Haruhi had accomplished. She tore open their doors and changed their worlds just as much as they had changed hers.

"I'm glad you found us, Haru-chan," Hanako's words glided across Haruhi's ears gently. The warmth pooling in Hanako's eyes was unlike anything Haruhi had ever felt before. The familiarity brought a warmth to her chest, and she felt closer to Hanako than she ever had before. She felt completely seen by this beautiful girl who had been such an enigma for so long, and for the first time, she felt that she understood Hanako Negida. "Thank you for everything you've done for us."

Hanako looked away from Haruhi, then, but the softness of her expression never wavered. The molten warmth of her gaze traveled around the room, pausing only to hold each member of the host club, as if she silently named exactly what it was Haruhi had done for each of them. Hanako looked at Haruhi again when she stood up, and she set her hand on the top of Haruhi's head, smiling softly before Kyoya's voice cut through the moment.

"How could he be so stupid? Evidently, Tamaki is planning to return to France," he bit out the revelation with unreserved anger.

Hanako didn't bother to try and act surprised. The possibility had crossed her mind, but she hadn't touched it. She didn't dare consider that he would seriously think about leaving them, so at least, her disbelief was genuine.

"Tama-chan is going to leave us?!" Mitsukuni demanded

"You're kidding!" Hikaru snapped ferociously, "We just can't let it end so suddenly!"

"Hikaru," Kaoru turned to his twin sympathetically.

"This can't be happening again," Hikaru grit out, trembling under his brother's hand. Kaoru turned to Hanako, looking to her for something – support, reassurance… something to tell them that this time was different.

She was breathing so heavily that her chest visibly rose and fell under her jacket. Hanako never forgot what it felt like when she fell from the tower. The gravity of what she had lost was never far from her mind, no matter how long she mourned or how well she pushed forward. A stranger stole her mother from them. Loss shattered her entire world. Fragments were scattered all around her, and she hadn't known what she was supposed to do with the pieces.

She did what she had to. She cast aside the pieces that could manage without her, she put together the ones that made the damage look less irreparable than it really was. She did everything that she could possibly do to stitch her world back together again, but no matter how hard she tried, it was never whole.

Then, she met Tamaki. Nobody in the world understood how alone she was like he did. He understood what it was like to have the entire world ripped away. He didn't try to put the pieces back together for her. He just made it so she wouldn't have to pick and choose the ones that mattered. Nothing that he did – not reuniting an estranged father and daughter, not mending the understanding between a brother and sister – absolutely nothing, would ever compare to what he did for her.

The Host Club was as much for him as it had been for her, but it was only when they convened for the first time that she realized, truly, how desperately he had needed it. Seeing him among the boys who meant more to her than anything in the world had taught her the truth behind Tamaki Suoh's kindness. He was trapped in a cage with no way out, crying for help without having the words or means to do so.

He didn't just give her back her family. He got through to every single one of them. He changed the courses of their lives forever.

Tamaki Suoh was the best person Hanako had ever met in her entire life.

"Tamaki!" Kyoya exclaimed suddenly at the window. The Host Club flew to his side immediately, as if the emotion in Kyoya's voice was all they needed to recognize how grave this really was.

"Tama-chan!"

"No way!"

"The Ouran Fair isn't even over yet!"

They were unraveling before her eyes, scrambling to figure out what to do to keep the family that Tamaki worked so hard to build together without knowing what to do. Hanako took hold of his shoulders and turned him to face her. His topaz eyes were wide and scared – just like they had been that day before the television footage cut out. Finally, she spoke. "Hikaru, it's not going to happen again."

The calm in her voice washed over him, chasing away his panic. The confidence behind her words promised that everything would be okay. They weren't the same children they used to be. She knew better this time.

"We're going after him," she stated with a finality that left no room for doubt or hesitation. The Host Club moved with her, already on her heels without needing to hear what she had in mind.

"My family's car should be in the parking lot," Kyoya stated, unable to keep the urgency out of his tone. Takashi already held the door open, and the others intuitively made their way to the back stairwell. The shortcut had never failed them before, and this time, they prayed, would be no different. "Haruhi, let's go!"

They didn't wait to see if Haruhi was keeping up. Hanako took the lead, faster than the rest of her friends and the best bet to navigate the multi-leveled parking lot. They ran like madmen, racing against time itself because, finally, they had something to lose that mattered more to them than themselves. Somewhere along the way, Mitsukuni and Takashi broke off from the rest of them, and Hanako didn't stop to question it. They had worked together long enough. She had learned with, alongside, and from them. Whatever tears had been present in their relationship had been mended and fortified with implicit trust. Besides, this was for Tamaki. Nobody was going to hold back for him.

Kyoya shot ahead as soon as the floor under their feet leveled out. He recognized the Ootori family car on threw himself at the driver's window, "We're in a hurry, can you drive us?" It wasn't Tachibana at the wheel. Hanako's right hand man was still at the doors of the Fair. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Hanako spun around. She heard the quiet footfalls growing around them. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, recognizing the approach from behind. She threw her arms out in front of the first years standing behind her, and they turned when they finally realized that they weren't alone. Her gaze swept across the floor, counting heads silently. It wasn't necessary. She already knew by heart how many men were available that day. They emerged in full special ops gear. Every man was garbed head to toe in black. They were dressed for the job – a job that Hanako had not been alerted to.

"Stand down." Hanako's order fell on deaf ears. Black visors reflected nothing but the artificial light back at her. They did not move. "I am your commander. I order you to stand down."

The last tethers of Hanako's self-control frayed. She felt angry. Watching Tamaki forced in a corner and re-enacting all of her past mistakes angered her. Holding him while he cried because he still felt so damned alone angered her. Being forced to witness Kyoya's humiliation at the hands of his father while she could do nothing but stand there enraged her. Spending every day in the shadows while he slowly fell more and more in love with the first girl who she had befriended in years infuriated her.

"You want to tell me your orders?" the biting frost in Kyoya's words only added steam to Hanako's ire. "Let me guess. You've been hired to protect Lady Éclair."

"I'm truly it has come to this," the captain's voice sounded within his helmet, "but as you know, as members of the Ootori private police, we answer to your father."

Anger had never brought Hana such clarity before.

"Is that so?" Hanako's voice rang out over the sound of metal crumpling behind her. Her attention zeroed in like a spear at the captain of this squad. She couldn't see his eyes, but she knew she had him under her gaze.

"I'm sorry, miss, but we've been ordered not to allow any of you to leave. Even if we have to stop you by force."

The Black Onion Squad was not simply a man for hire firm. At its inception, Yuudai Negida set the standard for what his legacy would be. Good people make good company. The men standing before Hanako had not been there when Yuudai took on a project that would grow to be something bigger than he ever imagined. Ten good men. Then fifty. Then a hundred. Then a thousand, and so on and so on until he had extended his hand to every beaten down officer, every forgotten veteran, and every big dreamer who had never given up believing in the principle of doing good because it was the right thing to do.

There was no amount of money in the world that could buy the Black Onion Squad.

Hanako watched with eyes like molten gold as the men closest to her fell to the floor. Neither the pitiful yelps and kevlar scraping against the concrete nor the horse drawn carriage suddenly between the Host Club and the Black Onion Squad could dull the predatory focus with which she gazed upon them. Mitsukuni over the door and landed gracefully before them. The members of the delta squad cowered, remembering the last time they faced the Haninozuka heir.

"Hikaru, take the carriage. If you use the back hills bypass, you can cut them off.," Takashi instructed the first year. The twins looked to Hanako, their hesitation to split up plain in their faces, but she didn't have eyes for them.

The expression on Hanako's face in that moment was unlike anything they had ever seen from her. They had seen her cry and laugh, and they had seen her rein and muzzle her anger until it was turned so far inward that her nails carved red crescent moons into her arms and palms. What they saw before them was the result of a betrayal that transcended Ouran. Her eyes weren't glistening with unshed tears brought forth by a forced silence. No, they burned and raged with unbridled fury. This time, Hanako Negida would not bite her tongue. She was done holding back.

The events taking place behind her fell out of frame as she advanced, shrugging out of her jacket and rolling up her white sleeves. They thought they were afraid of Takashi and Mitsukuni?

"Have you forgotten how this works?" Hanako's voice carried across the room with a gravity beyond the comprehension of the fools standing before her. "My father pulled you bastards to your feet when you could barely hold yourselves up on your knees, and this is how you repay him?"

Her voice carried the weight of three generations of men sworn to duty, loyalty, and security. Her eyes regarded them with the authority, austerity, and audacity of a noble bloodline traced through a history of exceptional women driven by ambition.

"Have you forgot where your loyalties lie?" the words came out with clipped disapproval, and a wave of uncertainty swept the black clad crowd. The pressure exerted by her very presence made the walls suddenly feel too close and the floor seem far too small.

"Don't just stand there! Stop that carriage…" the captain tried to command, but the waver in his voice betrayed his insecurity. He bit back his words with a grunt, silenced by Mitsukuni's foot on his head.

"Takashi. Don't go easy on 'em!" Mitsukuni tore forward.

"Don't worry, I won't."

Fear spread through the delta and epsilon squads like wildfire. They saw two young men in their prime. One, towering like a giant over them and the other, a compact machine. It was always easier to cower before other men. Intimidation and fear came easily in the presence of a man. How irresponsible of them to forget how Hanako fought her way into her father's chair.

"You idiots," Hanako caught the fearful captain by his visor, palm gripping his forehead so tightly that a crack splintered along the side. "The one you need to be afraid of is me."

She threw him so hard against the concrete that he skidded and slid across the floor. If the boys weren't holding back, why should she? Hanako moved through the lower ranked squads with a precision that couldn't be matched by Mitsukuni or Takashi. They razed their opponents without direction, cutting each person down because they were in their way. Hanako danced. She wove in and out of the throng with purpose. First, the captain of the delta team went down by her hand. Then, the captain of the epsilon squad. She worked her way through the pecking order, reminding them why she was the one they took orders from. It wasn't a fight.

She taught them a lesson.

{OR}

By the time the three martial artists had finished with the errant private police force, none of the rebels could stand on their own two feet. Somehow, they managed to cast aside the fallen officers in such a way that created a heap of worn limbs, sore backs, and throbbing headaches.

"You're all on probation," Hanako informed them as Kyoya handed her the jacket she shed before the massacre.

"I warned you guys!" Mitsukuni added in, "Picking on my friends is a big no-no!"

Hanako nodded briskly in agreement, rolling down her sleeves and buttoning them at the cuff before sliding her arms through the black jacket. She took a breath and turned on her heel. The driver of the family car visibly quivered as she took slow, measured steps towards the car. Slowly, the window rolled down, and his adam's apple bobbed with a heavy swallow.

"Open the doors and follow that carriage," Hanako ordered. The regal iciness of her voice could have given Shizune Suoh a run for her money, but the driver, even after all that, still hesitated. Angry caramel eyes hardened like stone and narrowed dangerously. "If anything happens to my family because of this, I'll have your head on a silver platter before the sun sets."

The doors unlocked with a click.

Hanako yanked the back door open, and the boys piled into the back seat. She slammed the door shut, walked around the front of the car, and settled into the passenger seat next to the terrified driver. She crossed her arms over her stomach and glowered at the road the entire way. Nobody said a word. The intensity of the threatening aura flaring from the back of the car had nothing on the waves and waves of unrelenting determination coming from the woman in the front seat.

Hanako had lost everything already, and just when she thought that she had nothing left to lose, the Host Club gave it all back. No amount of bravery or sacrifice could compare to the fulfillment of forgiveness and vulnerability. The ability to lean on others – having others to lean on – was more important than anything in the world. Good people. Good company.

She would never let them slip through her fingers again.

"Stop the car!" Hanako snapped at the driver. They were huddled figures in the pumpkin patch, but she picked them out before anyone else. The car came to halt, and Hanako flung the door wide, pelting into the field. "Kao! Hika!"

"Nee-chan!" the brothers echoed, separating slightly as Hanako fussed over them.

"Are you hurt? What happened? Where's Haruhi?" Their clothes were dirty, and the fabric on Hikaru's arm was torn. He was cradling the limb with his other hand. The simmering outrage in Hanako's face flared again as she recognized what it meant. "Someone get the emergency kit out of the car!" she shouted over her shoulder.

Suddenly, weight fell onto her body and pushed her back against the ground. The twins enveloped her completely. Kaoru wrapped both arms around her waist, and Hikaru's good arm encircled her head. Relief expelled a fear that she didn't even realize had been lurking below her unbound rage, and her fingers gripped the fabric on their backs.

"We're fine," Kaoru murmured in one ear.

"We're glad you're here," Hikaru said in the other.

Hanako squeezed them tighter, careful of Hikaru's arm. A hand came onto her shoulder, and she drew away from the two most precious people in the world to her. Kyoya stood behind her with the emergency kit in hand. A small grateful smile graced her features, and her fingers brushed his gently as she took the handle from his hand.

"We were going too fast, and the carriage hit a bump in the road," Kaoru filled them in as Hanako got to work setting and dressing Hikaru's arm.

"Haruhi took the carriage and went after Tamaki."

"We should hurry," Hanako determined, finishing the sling on Hikaru's shoulder. "We could catch them at the bridge if we move now."

The Host Club piled back into the car, and the driver continued down the road. The anxiety in the car was reaching its peak, but despite all the what-ifs, they believed that they could make it. A voice that was just a little bit too Tamaki told them to hold out hope that Haruhi made it to him before it was too late.

Their wondering didn't last for very long, because just as they came across the bridge, they saw two figures emerging from the river. The driver pulled over immediately, and the Host Club poured out of the car. The twins and Mitsukuni couldn't contain their excitement, and the trio raced down the stairs to reunite with Tamaki and Haaruhi.

"Tama-chan! Haru-chan!"

"Hey, boss!"

"Yay!"

Their enthusiasm was infectious, and despite herself, Hanako chuckled and watched the childish hosts join their reclaimed president. Beside her, Kyoya sighed in relief, letting go of the stress he had built up throughout the day. "Oh, man," he breathed, pushing up his glasses, "he's such a moron."

"And we love him for it," Hanako pointed out, letting the club's light cast all of her dark thoughts aside. This moment was for them. She could enjoy it. She deserved to. Hana parted from Kyoya's side and descended the stairs down to the riverbed where the majority of the club celebrated in high spirits.

"Why is it you two are always soaking wet?" Hanako demanded playfully as she came to stand beside the Hitachiins and Mitsukuni. None of them were in what could be considered a proper state. Haruhi and Tamaki were completely drenched from their swim. Hikaru and Kaoru looked worse for wear with dirt on their clothes, and even Mitsukuni had burst a couple of seams with his feats of flexibility that couture simply could not hold up to.

Then, there was Hana.

The girl who wore every hat for the Host Club looked completely and utterly disheveled. Her ponytail dropped halfway down her head and flyaways stuck out in every direction. There was dirt on her pants and back from when she sat in the pumpkin patch with the twins. Blood that definitely was not hers had caked her knuckles. When she pulled off her jacket and offered it to Haruhi, they could see evidence of blood, sweat, and dirt discoloring the white fabric.

Nonetheless, she was smiling.

"Let's get back to campus and get you two dried off."

"You know, we might actually be able to catch the end of the parade!"

"Yeah! Let's go!"

"C'mon!'

{OR}

By the time the Ouran High School Host Club returned to the Fair, the sun was finally sinking beyond the horizon. The moon hung high in the sky, and a waltz reverberated in the air. They missed the parade, but at this point in the year, keeping to the schedule was an anomaly.

"What?" Hikaru exclaimed as they pulled up to the campus, cast in hues of blue by the night sky. The attendees took to the courtyard to dance in front of the main building, partnering up as strings began to sing in the night. "Aw, man, the dancing already started?"

"You know what," Tamaki began softly, " I think I'm all dry from the vents, now. What about you, Haruhi?"

"Yeah, I feel fine, too."

"Well, in that case, why don't we go enjoy the rest of the evening?" Tamaki's amethyst eyes held them with such appreciative warmth that the boys were, once again, swept up in good spirits.

"Are you sure you don't want to do another costume change, Tamaki?" Kyoya teased good-naturedly with a smile that softened his pointed features.

"No, I think that'd be too capricious, even for me," Tamaki jested back with a grin. It was so easy for them to fall back into place. The Host Club fit together like a puzzle, and no matter how often they were taken apart and shifted around, the pieces always belonged together. No matter what happened, they always came back. They didn't play at being a family. This was the real thing.

"Haru-chan, come dance with me!" Mitsukuni grabbed Haruhi by the hand before she could protest and raced off for the dance floor. The twins followed immediately, playfully complaining about how they wanted to dance with her, too. The rest of the club moved forward, and Hanako hung back.

She took in the sight of their shoulders and backs, the perspective with which she had watched them for the past few years. She had become a shadow, watching from the sidelines and protecting them unacknowledged. She never imagined that in just two years, she would be able to stand beside them again as a friend.

"Hana, are you coming?" Tamaki asked, pausing to address the club member lingering behind. They had all stopped to turn back and face her. Even Mitsukuni and Haruhi were waiting on the edge of the dancefloor for her confirmation.

They were always so considerate of her. Hanako smiled indulgently, sweet and affectionate, "You go ahead. I'll catch up."

A flicker of doubt passed across their faces. There was no guarantee that she would really celebrate the rest of the Fair with them. The falter in their expressions didn't last, and Mitsukuni pulled Haruhi onto the dancefloor with a whoop.

Hanako made her way into the main building. She wasn't sure where she was going to find him, but she knew that he would still be there. The route she mapped out wasn't the fastest way to the Music Room, but it was the most likely to intersect with his. She found him walking alone in a long, empty corridor that led directly to the chairman's office.

"Ootori-sama!" Hanako called out with more force to her tone than she intended. The waltz outside drowned out the echo, but indignation behind her words resounded in the older man. He stopped mid-step. The girl stormed up to him, jacket draped across her arm and sleeves rolled up to her elbow. The moon cast a silver light on her unforgiving eyes, illuminating the gold swimming in caramel as she glared up at him. "You went over my head and hired out the Black Onion to Éclair Tonnere."

He regarded her coldly, as if her fury only amounted to an inconvenience to him, "I did. I am acting president of the surviving subsidiaries of Spring Onion International. You may act as commander, Negida, but in the end, I'm the one who gives the orders. I bought the Black Onion Squad from Yuudai on his deathbed as a favor. That profit went directly towards your financial support. Now, I allow you your independence, but do not forget your place. Or, are you no longer determined to rebuild your reputation?"

His criticisms stung, but she didn't cow to him. She was past the point of taking his superficial jabs. After what happened earlier that evening, she wouldn't let him talk down to her. She held her head high and looked him in the eye when she said, "You don't get to hide behind the past. My parents built the Black Onion Squad on their own backs with the intention of making the world a safer place for the people who mattered most to them. I will not allow you to reduce my father's work to a simple man for hire firm without any principles or standards for who they work for."

They weren't in negotiations. Yoshio crossed a line, and now he was facing the repercussions. Her eyes went cold as she gazed on him, unimpressed with the man standing across from her despite the years and experience he had on her. "Papa sold the Black Onion to you because he trusted you, not because we can be bought," she snarled viciously. "The company isn't profitable to you or to anyone else without someone like me leading it. You weren't fit to command it when you acquired it, and you aren't fit to command it now. If you ever compromise their respect for me again, you will regret it."

Her words had never rung truer than they did in that moment. The scared, angry girl who had first stepped into his office grew into a terrifying, unforgiving woman, confident in her worth and in her own abilities. The hardness in her eyes and the bite in her voice reminded him of another woman whose very presence dominated every room she walked into.

"Is that a threat, Negida?" Yoshio lazily challenged, a touch of warning to his voice that did not deter her in the slightest.

"The Black Onion Squad is just a name," she informed him slowly. "I don't need it to continue my parents' work. I'm grateful to you for the opportunities you have provided me, and I know what you've done for me comes from good intentions. It is because of my respect for you that I hope you don't make an enemy of me."

She held his gaze with every word and well after she finished speaking. She wasn't climbing anymore. Hanako sought Yoshio Ootori out with the intention of confronting him as an equal. She didn't need the money to stand on level ground as him. She just needed a reason good enough to do it.

"Good night, Ootori-san," Hanako said pointedly before striding past him in the direction of Music Room 3. Her heart didn't thunder in her ribcage as she walked away. Instead, it swelled with an inexplicable sense of pride.

When Hanako came to the main doors leading into Music Room 3, she paused. These doors had been like the gates of heaven to her for the past two years, and she had been its gatekeeper. She had thought that the room was overkill at first when Tamaki suggested this be where they hold court. She remembered what it felt like to be guilty and afraid the first time she stood before these French doors. The fear of seeing people who had hurt her and whom she had hurt deeply was so powerful back then that she didn't leave the kitchen or receiving room in the first few weeks.

Hana ran her hand over the golden doorknobs and turned the mechanism, throwing the doors open to the quiet, empty Music Room. There was always a beauty about the room where they convened. Ouran's architect had made every single room a splendor by design, but it had grown in beauty and function over time. Even bathed in moonlight, the pale rose colors shifting to blue and purple in the dark still felt welcoming.

Hana's steps sounded quietly on the tiles as she swept through the receiving area and into the main floor. This was where the magic happened. There was, of course, the fantasy that the Host Club offered to their guests through getaways and intricate themes. Yet, in fact, the magic ran so much deeper than that. Bridges that had been burned down and hacked away were rebuilt and fortified in this room. Forgiveness that nobody had even considered themselves worthy of receiving had been bestowed within these walls. She remembered what it was like to walk into the empty room for the first time and see the expanse of space.

Even Tamaki had been flustered by how large the room seemed, but to everyone's surprise, Kyoya had already recognized the potential for what could be. The vice-president of the club handled the details, and the president crafted the environment to suit his tastes. Hanako's fingertips lightly passed over wooden accents, gliding over the wooden frames on sofas and the surfaces of delicate side tables. She had played a part in bringing it all together. She was the one who put these things in place and righted them when they were wrong.

The Host Club's shadow passed through the room and stopped at the long stretch of windows overlooking the courtyard. She could see all of the revelry below. Hanako watched the figures dancing with their friends and partners, and she wondered, vaguely, how many of those young couples had been brought together through Tamaki's meddling. Lazily, her attention drifted over Ouran until it found the people she always looked for in a crowd. Hana watched Mitsukuni swing Haruhi around the dance floor with glee, worriless and utterly himself as he spun them around and around until finally twirling her away. She knew it was Takashi who caught Haruhi from the way he towered over her and from the deep blue coat he wore.

Hurt didn't grip her like it used to when she saw the two dance. Sadness may have weakly fluttered its rice paper wings, but it was the sentimental sadness of finally closing a chapter that she had been stuck on for years. Hanako had a very good friend in Takashi Morinozuka, and in the aftermath of their failed romance, she had almost forgotten how good of a friend he could be. They were friends long before they were ever romantic, and he was the type of person who she wanted in her life, regardless of who he was to her.

The princess gazed at the kingdom from the very top of her tower.

Hanako smiled to herself and left the window, gracefully crossing the floor and disappearing through the arch into the dressing rooms.

{OR}

Meanwhile, a private meeting between the two patriarchs of the Ootori and Suoh families took place in a luxurious office situated across the clocktower. Yuzuru also preferred to work in the dark, and neither the ceiling lights nor his desk lamp were turned on for this audience with his old friend. The only light came from the moon, as if it, too, had a place in this conversation.

Yuzuru's office was decorated with things that held significant meaning to him. The heavy, jacquard curtains had been a gift from Yuzuha. Pictures of his friends, son, and their friends covered the majorite of his desk space. Kazuha had sent him the flowers on his coffee table, and the china along the wall had once belonged to Yuudai.

"I'm sorry that we caused you concern," Yoshio's smooth voice would have come across as insincere to anyone who didn't know him, but Yuzuru could hear the nuances of the apology better than most. "It looks as though Grand Tonnerre won't be purchasing my company after all. An unexpected backer turned up. They bought the company before Tonnerre had a chance, and the backer said that he was turning all the management rights over to me."

"That was a bold move," Yuzuru remarked, watching the honors student dance off beat with one of Yuzuha's boys. "Which funds manager was it?"

"A student investor," Yoshio corrected, "called K.O. He cleverly left his name out of the deal, but it didn't take me long to figure out who it was. K. O. is Kyoya Ootori. The new backer was none other than my own son."

Yoshio could practically hear the snarky laughter that would have sounded had she still been alive. I told you he had potential, Yoshi. The words played at the corners of his mind, knowing fully well what she would say to him in that moment. Yoshio's youngest son was proving how formidable he truly was, and his father could only acknowledge the complex pride that brought him.

"At least we know we don't have to worry about the future. I thought I knew how brilliant Kyoya was, but it seems he's even smarter than I thought." In fact, there was only one person who came to mind when he about this kind of intelligence and gall.

"Maybe so, but I think your son is the one who's truly amazing."

"Hm?
"I am responsible for the entirety of Kyoya's education. I always knew he would surpass his older brothers some day. However, I must say I'm shocked. While I can imagine Kyoya taking over a company, I never dreamed he'd turn around and give it right back to its original owner." It was somehting Yoshio never saw himself doing, much less one of his children. He was hard on them, understandably so, but he raised his sons and daughter the way he did because he was responsible for ensuring their futures. The importance of doing so only heightened in his eyes when he witnessed the difficulties that arose for the Negida family without Akina.

"As Kyoya grew up," Yoshio recalled, "I was constantly dangling the Ootori family companies in front of his face, torturing him with something he could never have. Now, not only has he taken it out from under me by force, but he's basically told me he doesn't want it and has thrown it back in my face. Do you understand what that means?"

Yuzuru may have had an inkling of a thought. After all, this wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Although, it had been a woman far more rebellious than Kyoya. The school's chairman looked over his shoulder to his friend, finally looking away from the Host Club enjoying the closing festivities.

The features on Yoshio's tired face softened, pride and relief melting some of the ice that guarded the Ootori patriarch's true thoughts and feelings. "It means he's finally found it. He's found something that has an even greater value to him, and that's probably thanks to Tamaki."

The men were far more knowledgable now than they had been in their youths. They had gained plenty and lost more than enough to understand what really mattered. They had seen firsthand how a good man can change everyone he comes across, and they witnessed how fulfilling it could be to give up everything for real, genuine love.

"Though our companies sometimes cause us to compete," Yuzuru reflected, illuminated by the multicolored spectacle outside his window, "I think we'll get along just fine from now on." There had been a distinct break between the two former schoolmates. Yuzuru's path diverged from Yoshio's a long time ago. Yuzuru had an irresponsible streak that contrasted with Yoshio's staunch accountability. He hadn't been in Japan at the time of Akina's death, and he had not been able to bring himself to return for her funeral. The apparent snub had been an added point of contention to the growing pile of things Yoshio found fault with regarding Yuzuru's lifestyle.

"Agreed. I think we can get along famously," Yoshio acknowledged. "Just like our two sons do."

They had been friends once. There was no reason why they could not be again. Although…

"I almost forgot. There was one more thing I wanted to run by you," Yoshio added lightly. "That honor student girl, Haruhi Fujioka, was it? I think that she would make a wonderful bride for my Kyoya in the future. I just wanted you to know my intentions."

The warning was not lost on Yuzuru. He knew how Yoshio regarded the relationship between Akina and Yuudai. Yuudai had changed something fundamental not just in Akina but in Yoshio. Yuzuru recognized exactly what Yoshio saw in Haruhi. The similarities between Yuu and the girl were uncanny from their charming, inconspicuous appearances to their strong moral compasses.

"Well, unfortunately, it looks like we're not going to get along after all. I'm sorry, but that's the one thing I could never allow, my friend," Yuzuru declared. He had seen how Tamaki looked at her, and he would not allow his son to pay for any more of his own past mistakes. Yuzuru would not let another Suoh man miss out on real love the way he had. Besides, there were clearly other spectres at play, here.

Yuzuru chuckled, still surprised by how deeply Yoshio had been affected by the relationship Akina had with Yuudai. The other man had one foot stuck in the past and the other firmly planted in the future. It was as if he was incapable of simply living in the present.

"Why are you so insistent on searching elsewhere for something that's already right there under your nose?" Yuzuru questioned.

{OR}

Hanako touched her hair cautiously. The doors seemed bigger, somehow. The memories of menacing whispers gave her pause, and she recoiled when she heard the first bang. Her heart thundered with something like anticipation and excitement, at odds with each other but somehow creating something new that worked in harmony. The fireworks show started early. The Ouran Fair was almost over. She opened the doors to the courtyard, and a cold breath of air hit her face.

Mitsukuni was the first to see. The blond martial artist was watching the spectacular lights bursting across the night sky when he turned his head just the right way. He gasped loudly, not trying to contain his surprise. The rest of them caught on quickly, and there wasn't a single person who wasn't amazed by the sight.

Hanako Negida descended the staircase gracefully. One hand ran along the length of the railing, and the other lifted her floor length skirt. She looked magnificent. Her long black hair had been combed over her shoulder and cascaded down her back, straight as a pin and shining under the moonlight. Hanako finally traded in that suit for an elegant ivory gown that shimmered under the fireworks as if it caught all the stars in the sky on the gossamer threads. Haruhi gazed at this person joining the party, fashionable in every sense. Somehow, she was and was not the Hanako Negido who Haruhi knew. Regal was the only word to describe her as she continued down the stairs. There were princesses, and then, there was Hanako.

The world seemed to stop for her. The fireworks dimmed in comparison to her entrance, and people shifted to gaze upon the rare occurrence. Kyoya turned his attention to see what on earth could have caused such a stir, and he froze. Hanako's dress glimmered and shifted with every step she took. The dress seemed to take on a life of its own, but she wore it perfectly. Every muscle that moved caused the illustrous fabric to catch light differently. This was a gown that could only be worn by someone able to do it justice. Takashi's jaw slackened when he saw the alabaster skin on her arms bathed in the milky tones of the moonlight. Hikaru and Kaoru snickered and each elbowed one of their seniors, but they were just as impressed to see her looking more like herself than ever.

When she came to the foot of the stairs, all eyes were on her. She was walking on starlight, following a path that Tamaki's warmth and light started her on. The crowd parted for her, as if they knew exactly where she was going. Hanako stopped in front of them, eyes alight with life and nervousness and exhiliration, complicated and wonderful emotions layered upon each other and filling her with something she had been missing.

Tamaki stood at the front to meet her, and he smiled at her with nothing but pride and admiration for the woman she grew to be. "There's our chevalier," he said with open arms, taking her hands in his and squeezing her fingertips supportively. "A knight disguised as a beautiful girl."

Hana pulled her hands out of his and wrapped her arms around him tightly, "Thank you, Tamaki."

Tamaki tilted his head to the side cluelessly when she drew away, "For… what?"

"Keeping your promise," she said softly.

Trust me. I promise everything's going to get better, you'll see! Now, you don't have to choose between your work and your family, Hana. The words he said to her after the idea to start the Host Club came to him had felt like an impossibility, but even back then, she knew that there was more to Tamaki Suoh than what meets the eye.

"The truth is," she admitted, "you fulfilled your promise to me ages ago." His eyes widened for just a second before settling into a soft look of contentment. Hanako rarely addressed how grim her situation had been when they first met. She had grown tremendously in these two years. Her validation of the Host Club and of what it provided her was more than Tamaki ever thought he could do.

Hanako fell into place among the Host Club with a smile, and Hikaru and Kaoru immediately flanked her, pestering her in a way that only brothers knew how to.

{OR}

Right under my nose? Yoshio repeated to himself silently. He had seen how much closer Hanako grew to Kyoya in recent years. They had become inseparable, not unlike he and Akina in their youth, and that was what unnerved him. The sense of déjà vu when he saw them was far too strong to be taken lightly. It was like looking into a mirror to the past. Selfish, destructive people who could only do each other harm. Hanako looked more and more like her mother every day, and it only served to put Yoshio more on his guard. Clearly, Kyoya demonstrated his brilliance, following in his father's footsteps, if not already set on a path to surpass his predecessor. No, they needed people like Yuudai, people like Haruhi and Tamaki to keep them on the right track. Together, they would only bring about each other's misery.

"Hanako cornered me on my way up here," Yoshio confided in his old friend. "She gave me quite the lecture about going over her head and giving orders to the Black Onion Squad without her approval."

The fresh memory of predatory golden flecked eyes came to his mind, so much like the ones he had known all his life. The girl who had blindly accepted his offer seemed completely gone from the young woman who confronted him. The trembling kitten lashing out at anyone who tried to help had grown into a panther capable of tearing down a man where he stood if she so deemed it necessary.

"I could have sworn," he mused with a faraway look on his face, "that it was the ghost of Akina reprimanding me."

Yuzuru felt a pang of sympathy for his old friend. Yoshio had gained far more from the friendship with Yuudai than the rest of them had. He had needed the other man's earnestness to ground him when his greed and selfishness trapped him in a cycle of apathy and cruelty.

"Hanako is just like her mother," the dark haired man told Yuzuru in all seriousness. "She's stubborn and independent and as dangerous as she is beautiful."

An incredulous chuckle sounded from Yuzuru's desk, "Yes, I suppose it is easy to see the similarities between the two."

"I cannot allow my son to get involved with her. Do you remember what Akina was like in high school?" It was a rhetorical question, of course. Neither of them could ever forget the vibrancy Akina brought to their group of friends. "A woman like that would ruin my son – my family."

Yoshi had always been adamant in claiming that he and Akina were no good together, but as Yuzuru recalled, neither of them had ever really tried. They flirted endlessly and convinced the whole school that they were completely alike until, suddenly, Akina met Yuudai and completely changed her tune about what a marriage should be.

"At that point in time, all of us were convinced you two were going to get married and live out the rest of your days buying up the entirety of the Japanese market." Yuzuru recalled how driven those two had been even in their teens. They were spoiled, greedy, and selfish, and they were more than capable by themselves. Nobody knew what they could accomplish together.

"That is exactly my point. The two of us were never good for each other. The only things we knew were superficial. We would have been miserable for the rest of our lives if we had gotten married like Aki's parents wanted." A pause and flicker of grief passed over them, and another what if passed through Yoshio's mind. The Ootori patriarch concluded his reflection in a gruff voice, "I don't want that for my son."

They each played a different part in Hanako's life. Neither Yoshio nor Yuzuru would ever be as close to her as Yuzuha was, but they acted as mentors to her as was appropriate to their positions. Yoshio had come to know Hanako as a part of his household – an employee and member of his staff living under his roof and assigned to his son. On the other hand, Yuzuru saw her every day as a colleague. He entrusted hundreds of students to her, including his precious son. He saw how she spent her time wih the Host Club and read the extensive detail she included in her reports whenever their names came up.

"You know, it's funny that you see Akina when you look at her. I'm not surprised, but you've got it all wrong, my friend. That girl is Yuudai Negida's daughter through and through. There isn't a thing in the world that she wouldn't do to protect the people she cares about. In a way, I suppose it's your own fault for getting between her and that Host Club, Yoshi."

{OR}

Hanako slipped away from the excitement as the night drew on. While her friends basked in the glow of the fireworks and celebrated the endurance of their kingdom, Hana wandered away for a moment of peace. The gardens had been abandoned once all the activities wrapped up for the day, and she took solace in the solitude. She had not been at the center of attention like that in so long. It was always so different to have an audience watching her personal life, but this night was just for her. Her and her Host Club.

She took a deep breath of air and stretched out on a stone bench, sprawling her long legs out in front of her and arching her back until her fingertips brushed the wall of roses behind her. The events from earlier were beginning to set into her bones, and she felt tired. Hanako looked up when she heard soft footsteps on grass, and a smile came onto her face as she drank him in.

"I'm surprised you have enough energy to go looking for me," she quipped playfully.

Kyoya pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, and they glinted in the monlight, "I assure you that I have a very strict intake of caffeine that keeps me on my feet. May I join you?"

"You're always welcome company," she gestured to the space beside her. He walked around her feet and settled into the place at her right. The bench was small and cold, and she had been out in the autumn night's cool air for long enough that she felt warmer just from the proximity to him.

"Speaking of your company," Kyoya started in a conversational tone, "I've taken it back."

Hanako turned her head to face him with such sharpness that he thought she might give herself whiplash. Amusement bled into his features at the wideness of her eyes. "What did you think we were doing all this time?"

She shook her head as if trying to dispel her disbelief, "I didn't anticipate it would happen so soon." She wracked her brain, searching for a clue as to how their plans were able to move so far up when they were so busy managing the Tonnerre take over. She couldn't think of a single moment available for him to have accomplished this.

"Well, you still won't have access to the other Spring Onion International subsidiaries or your trust fund. However, my father can never make a decision for the Black Onion without your approval ever again."

The meaning behind his words was not lost on her. This was her freedom. She could sit in her father's chair in truth, now. All the obligations, the limitations… just like that… gone. She owned the Black Onion. Hanako reached for Kyoya's hand and found it readily available to her. Their fingers slid together like two puzzle pieces that had always belonged together, and he tightened his hold on her just a little bit. She leaned forward, close enough that he could smell the lingering dirt in her hair from falling into the pumpkin patch. Hana's lips pressed reverently against his forehead, soft and loving, relaying emotions that words alone could not express.

"Thank you," her eyes burned like golden fire with the victorious emotions lighting her soul, "for coming through for me."

She never doubted that he would, and her confidence in him only motivated him to prove her right. The night of his sister's engagement party, Kyoya committed to redoubling his efforts on her behalf. She believed in him, so anything she asked for, he would provide if for no other reason than to show them both that her faith in him was not wasted.

"Why on Earth are you thanking me?" Kyoya held her with slate gray eyes, impossibly affectionate and bright with pride in what they accomplished together. "This was only possible because of your hard work, Hanako. This was your capital. Everything that we did today was only possible because you made it so."

Hanako pulled her legs back under her and turned her face up to the stars. It felt like a dream. The nightmare they lived through only the day before seemed so distant and so far removed from where they were now that she wondered if any of it had been real. Their happy, little kingdom had just survived a tremendous shift in the foundation. They were rattled but still standing. Tomorrow, nothing would change.

"Did you ever think we'd ever all be like this?" she asked him thoughtfully, face still bathed in light from the fireworks display.

Kyoya's rumbling laugh sounded beside her, "Well, no. I never thought it'd be so much trouble."

She laughed at his playful complaint, knowing fully well that he enjoyed going through the trouble for them. Kyoya had a mother's instincts at heart, and as much as he denied it, he took care of them in his own way. His annoyance had turned into a private joke between them. Just another example of how close they had become over time. Hana's laughter faded and a nostalgic expression dampened the humor in her face, "Two years ago, I hadn't believed that any of us would ever be this happy."

Truthfully, he hadn't, either. Kyoya had not believed that it was possible for him to be anything more than the third son, and he had not seen any of them as anything other than their place in the birth order or the reputations attached to their names. He had been terribly empty, and she had been restless. The Hanako he met was so overwhelmed that she didn't know what to do with herself. At that point, they had seemed to be on a trajectory for a lifetime of misery. Then, they met Tamaki.

"When you cashed in your one favor of me," Kyoya mused, lifting his own face to the sky, "I never dreamed you would ask me to help you reclaim the Black Onion Squad."

Hana's smile widened, and she grinned up at the night sky full of self-satisfaction and high on the winds of fortune. "You were the only person who could pull it off. Third son of the Ootori family," Hanako turned her smile onto him directly, "there isn't a person in the world like you."

She never ceased to amaze him. Her radiance was incomparable, and sitting under the light of her smile, he felt like the most incredible person alive. "How did you know that when we were barely speaking at the time?"

"I suppose it was Tamaki who showed me the extent of your full potential." Tamaki connected Kyoya to that spark he had been missing for years. Brilliance without direction would have been a waste. Tamaki struck a match for Kyoya, and the result was more spectacular than the fireworks bursting overhead.

"I'll have to thank Tamaki for that one day." Kyoya and Hanako sat side by side on the grounds of Ouran's rose gardens. The third son of the Ootori family relaxed on the stone bench and stretch his long arm out behind her back, holding the edge of the bench as he sheltered her from the cold with his side. The new chairwoman of the Black Onion Squad leaned her weight against him, and they enjoyed a moment of peace in what was coming to be a rapidly changing world.

They had evaded absolute devastation by the skin of their teeth, and who knew when it would creep up on them again. Even this, sitting with him and feeling the sturdiness of his arm around her waist wouldn't last.

"Kyoya," Hanako started, "have you noticed? Everything we thought we knew is changing…" Her voice faded into uncertainty. They had all grown so much in such a short amount of time. She knew that she was outgrowing the confines of her role, and soon, the cages she and Kyoya occupied wouldn't be able to contain them. They can't be children forever. The fantasy would have to give way sooner or later, and when it did, somebody would get hurt.

Kyoya lowered his gaze to her again, fixing her with a questioning look that suggested that she already knew the answer to that question. Still, he regarded her with empathy. He didn't want it to end, either, but when it did, the end would come on their terms, not someone else's. When they were ready, they would fly as high and far as they could, and they would do it together.

"We couldn't stay as we were forever, Hana," he replied.

In all honesty, neither of them wanted to. They had settled for the safety of consistency, and while they were satisfied with the way things were, it still wasn't enough. They couldn't settle for scraps of happiness anymore, not when the real thing was within reach. Kyoya shifted away from her, and Hanako felt a sudden regret at the loss of proximity. He reached into his jacket and presented her with a single rose with deep, plum colored petals. It was his signature flower, the one that embodied each host's character.

Hanako accepted it between her fingers and stroked the soft petals appreciatively with her other hand. No, they couldn't stay this way forever. They couldn't keep pretending that there was nothing between them. She couldn't keep acting as if she was satisfied just being his body guard and friend. Hanako Negida knew what she wanted, even if she couldn't have it. She wanted to be selfish – just this once – because they didn't have nearly as much time as they thought.

{OR}

A/N... I can't believe I really finished writing a story! I have over 30 stories started over the course of ten years, and this is the first and only one I have ever finished. Thank you, everyone, for sharing this with me. The first installment of the Kingdom Come trilogy is finally complete, and I am so excited to start working on the second book.

Thank you everylittleflowers, purplekittycatofthemoon, xmichikox, and guest for reviewing the last chapter. Special thanks to all of the readers who have left reviews throughout this story, I cannot begin to tell you how much I enjoy our brief chats or how much I appreciate your feedback. Also, thank you to everyone who has followed and favorited this story. Knowing that you're out there has been a huge boost to my motivation and determination to finish this story.

I started writing this particular plot because I wanted to explore a darker side to Ouran and flesh out those imperfect characteristics in each of the hosts. Something that I've noticed across fanfiction and YA as a whole is the perception of what weakness is, and I really wanted to challenge the concept of vulnerability and emotion as weaknesses. Women don't have to be strong every second of every day. It is okay to be a holistic person with wants and needs and breaking points. I wanted to write a character with loss, trauma, and anxiety without making those the defining characteristics of who she is as a person while also giving her flaws that are relatable. I wanted to create a romance where readers can see the lines between individuality and dependence and codependence blurring and sharpening over time, and I will definitely expand on that in the sequel.

I am very likely to post a post story author's note that might include Hanako's character profile and a playlist with songs dedicated to each chapter, and I will put that up as soon as I've posted the sequel so everyone knows that it's ready to read. Just so you all know, I'm working on some side projects and original works, so it might take some time. I'm also considering creating a fictionpress for original projects :)

I will keep you all updated! As always, happy reading!

Next time: A Knight in Thorns and Jewels