It was a good two months and Izzy adapted far too well for her liking. She didn't even realize how effortlessly she adapted into Ouran until she found herself willingly hanging out with the Host Club one afternoon. They didn't have to force her or bribe her, they showed up and she willingly went.

"Why are we doing this again?"

Izzy realized it was too late to really question why they were on this particular outing, but Izzy was a curious creature by nature. She stood with her back pressed against the railing, the ocean waves lulling her into a serene state. She was sandwiched between Tamaki and Mori; she had a feeling they thought she would literally jump ship otherwise. Although, Tamaki seemed too focused on Haruhi to really even keep an eye on Izzy, not that she needed an eye kept on her. She wasn't really going to climb over the railing and throw herself into the ocean.

That was just undignified.

"You like art and architecture, don't you?" Hikaru asked with a raised brow. She could tell the difference between Hikaru and Kaoru at this point, but she kept that to herself. She purposely lost at their guessing game, much to their snide delight, waiting for the right moment to guess correctly.

"Yes?" Izzy folded her arms across her chest, not dressed for the weather. She wished she would have asked where they were going before following them. The long sleeves of her white shirt did nothing against the frigid ocean breeze. Her black dress and sheer stockings were less of a help than her thin shirt.

"We're going to a museum," Kaoru said next with a distinct eye roll. "Obviously." He added after a snide afterthought. Izzy didn't care for his tone, easily brushing him off. She learned quickly that the twins thrived on the reactions of others. It was easy for them to get a rise out of Tamaki but the same could not be said for her. Mostly all they could get out of the older brunette was bemused annoyance. Which was an oddity in itself because those around them either bought into their mischievous ways, ignored them or were somewhat amused with them. But, they realized quickly, Izzy was a bit of an odd duck.

"Naoshima is different from the Italian museums that you're probably used to," Haruhi spoke up, brushing Tamaki's blabbering off. Izzy tried not to laugh right in Tamaki's face, but his pouting was hilarious.

"There's nothing quite like Italian art but I'm sure Japanese art is just as interesting," Izzy replied diplomatically. She learned fast how to answer in evasive ways in a bid to please everyone around her. She really didn't understand why they were going to a museum just because she liked them. Izzy learned quickly that any time spent together outside of school was dedicated to mostly annoying Haruhi. Not that they purposely meant to annoy her but their efforts in trying to see how commoners lived usually ended up hectic.

Izzy found herself to be an unwilling accomplice, learning that getting the Club to see reason often fell to deaf ears. It was no wonder Haruhi stood by and let Mori drag her out of Chi's house. They never meant harm, but they were, as Haruhi gently put it, 'rich bastards'. They were collectively used to getting what they wanted. Their schemes so far were innocent in nature, but Izzy was sure she would have to put her foot down at some point.

But for now, a trip to a museum was innocent.

If only she'd brought a jacket.

Naoshima wasn't just a museum like she'd been led to believe. Naoshima was an island dedicated entirely to art. It was impressive but Izzy realized almost immediately that she was not dressed for the day they had planned. Naoshima was far too big to get around by foot and driving was not an option. Walking was an actual option but for a bunch of spoiled rich kids, the option was cut down. Their only other option was to rent and bike around the island, which wouldn't have been much of a problem if she'd been dressed for it.

"You can ride on the back of one of our bikes," Kaoru offered, realizing first that Izzy wouldn't be able to ride a bike. She ran the risk of ripping a hole in her stockings, her dress was too short, and she wasn't wearing the right type of shoes for peddling.

Hikaru leaned over, also realizing Izzy was the only one who hadn't rented a bike. "Why didn't you dress for this, Senpai?" he asked snidely, hands on his hips. Izzy only rolled her eyes and scowled at him. "Maybe Mori-senpai will let you ride on his bike. He's strong enough to balance your weight and his."

Izzy made a face. "You're saying that like I weigh a lot."

"I was just saying—"

"—I'll hit you." Izzy's glare was dark. "And anyway, Honey-chan is riding with Mori." She folded her arms across her chest with a hard frown. She didn't trust either twin to ride on their bike nor did she trust Tamaki. Kyoya would most likely find a way for making her owe him something and Haruhi was much smaller than she was and would struggle with her added weight.

Honey came bounding up to her, smiling cutely. "You should ride with Takashi, Berry-chan. I'll ride with Haru-chan," he smiled sweetly, swaying in a cute fashion.

Izzy leaned over; hands braced on her knees. "I wouldn't want to mess up your dynamic, Honey-chan," she grinned in a bid to hide the nervous energy beginning to radiate from her. Obviously it would be ideal for her to ride on Mori's bike with him, given the fact that he was the strongest. The very thought of that, however, made her stomach do nervous flips.

Before she could say much else, Mori settled a heavy hand on the crown of her head. He skirted past her, nodding his head in the direction of his bike. Izzy turned her head to look at him, nearly pouting. She'd lost the fight before it even began. "That's that," Izzy shrugged while standing up. She waved Honey to Haruhi and followed after Mori. "Words, Mori, they do exist." Her tone was wry as she climbed on the back of his bike.

"I think you'd better hold on tight, Bera-senpai," Haruhi advised as Honey hopped into her basket. Izzy shot her a look but did as advised, looping her arms carefully around Mori's torso. She barely had any time to gather herself when Mori took off like a bat out of Hell.

The others watched them go, various degrees of amusement on their faces. "She's going to yell at him," Tamaki said after a long pause.

"Let's hope she's done by the time we catch up," Kyoya sighed.

Izzy was rightfully winded by the time the bike came to a screeching halt. She was sure that her grip around Mori's chest was tight enough to choke him, but she couldn't find it in her to really care. Her face was buried in his back, completely unaware that they even stopped in the first place.

Mori tapped at her hand once he realized she was still clinging onto him. Her eyes opened first; eyes closed so hard that tears welled up in the corners. Gingerly she pulled her face from his back, searching around to see that the world was no longer blurring around them. Izzy let out a big sigh, tense muscles relaxing. She pulled her arms away almost immediately, sitting up so that Mori could get off the bike.

Still sitting on the back of the bike, Izzy realized that her hair was now a wild mess around her face. She raised her hands and threaded her fingers through her wild locks with a groan. "Mori," Izzy threw her head back, nearly toppling off of the bike. Mori caught her by the arm, helping her off of the bike completely. Izzy fixed her dress and then tried to manage her hair back into a ponytail. "I feel like you did that on purpose," she continued to groan while wrestling her hair into a ponytail.

Mori shrugged one shoulder and Izzy swore she could see the inkling of an amused smile threatening at his lips. "I didn't," the giant replied simply while shoving his hands into his pockets. He watched with raised eyebrows as her hair tie broke, allowing her hair to spring back around her face in an almost comical way.

There was a long pause as the two stared at one another.

The silence was broken by a muffled snort coming from Mori.

Izzy dropped her head immediately, pouting into her hands. She was embarrassed, hating that her hair was a wild mess and that it even made Mori laugh. It was amazing that he laughed at all but still, it was at her expense. She picked her head up a moment later, knowing she'd have to fix her damn hair.

Mori surprised her when he reached out, fingers brushing through her hair carefully. She wasn't sure if it was the act itself or if it was because it was Mori but him fixing her hair completely threw her off. He was careful with his task, finger-combing her hair and tucking stubborn locks back until her hair resembled its original look before he ruined it with his bike riding.

Before he completely pulled back, he dropped his fingers towards her face. His thumb pressed against her face, swiping it across her scar. It healed completely and though it was slightly discolored, she mostly kept it hidden with makeup. If anyone noticed it, they never commented on it.

Of course, Mori just had to be the exception.

She wasn't sure what was going through his head, but he seemed entirely too focused on the scar. This was far too intimate for her liken, causing her stomach to do flips and somersaults. Izzy and Mori got along well, meshing together easily despite the perpetual silence that seemed to hang over them. His silence never really bothered her, and she learned pretty quick in taking cues from him in order to communicate.

It was a little strange, if she were being honest, but she didn't mind it. She had a different relationship with each member of the Host Club but her relationship with Mori tended to make her nervous. It wasn't because of his silence either because she was a pretty quiet person herself. She had to guess her attraction to him made her nervous. Nothing would ever come from her attraction, she was sure of it, but still...he made her nervous.

She could feel his fingers pressed to her face, his thumb just underneath her eye and his palm against her mouth. It made her feel warm inside. Her stomach, her veins, her face. Everything felt warm and she wasn't sure if she really liked it.

Just because it made her feel warm didn't mean he felt warm as well.

Mori was a good friend; she'd come to realize. He cared very deeply about his friends and it would be wrong for her to mix that up with romantic affection for her. She was no more special than Haruhi or Honey. If anyone of them had a scar under their eye from violence, he'd be just as worried.

All his handling meant nothing.

Izzy tried to smile but she was sure it was a weak attempt. "It's not a big deal, you know. It's barely noticeable now," she reached up, curling her fingers around his wrist to pull him away. She tilted her head back to look up at him, ready to tell him that everything was just fine when she came to a hard pause. Mori was staring directly at her, dark swirling pools of silver glinting in the early morning sun. The comfortable silence that usually hung over them became heavy, unbearably so. Izzy was sure that at this point, her face was ten different shades of red.

Impressive, really.

Before she could really say anything, anything at all, she saw the Host Club approaching them. To Izzy's amusement, Honey was clinging to Tamaki's back instead of riding with Haruhi like originally planned, his arms coiled tightly around the lanky blond's neck. The brunette sputtered at the sight, stepping back from Mori and covering her guffaws. Honey barely gave Tamaki time to stop before his feet hit the ground. He scuttled towards Mori, climbing him effortlessly to settle on his shoulders, grinning all the while.

"So," Izzy started once she got her laughter under control. "No one wanted to warn me?" she waved a hand in Mori's general direction.

"Haruhi advised you to hold on," Kyoya replied casually, fixing his rumpled clothing. Izzy was somewhat disappointed that she didn't get to see Kyoya actually riding a bike.

"That was not enough of a warning and you know that," Izzy huffed. Tamaki led them to the first exhibit, Izzy chastising them all the while. She was so caught up with scolding them that she hadn't realized Mori hadn't stopped looking at her.

Somehow a quiet day at an art exhibit was turned into a boisterous affair. Izzy wasn't sure how they hadn't been kicked out, but she was sure it had something to do with the fact that their atmosphere screamed 'money'. It would be bad if any of them were thrown out. She insisted on apologizing to any staff member, although to be fair, most of them were enamored by the Club anyway.

She was standing outside of the cafe, waiting for everyone. She just wanted a quick breather away from all of the excitement. She was joined seconds later by Mori, letting out a surprised squawk when he threw his jacket over her head. "Mori!" she huffed indignantly while wrestling the jacket off of her head.

Mori peered down at her, a speckle of amusement swimming around in his dark eyes. "You're cold."

She felt that familiar rise of heat under skin, cursing Mori's knack for effortlessly disrupting her aloof ways. She considered denying that but figured it was a loss cause. She was cold and despite the day's sunny weather, it did nothing to warm her up. "Aren't you just so astute," Izzy mused while shifting into the jacket. Immediately Mori's scent engulfed her, threatening to drown her. She nearly inhaled too deeply but stopped herself, horrified that she might do that in front of him.

But Mori's scent was a comfort to her. She wasn't sure how to really explain it, but she felt safe. It didn't make sense, but Mori smelled...reassuring.

Izzy hugged the jacket a little tighter around herself. Luckily for her, Mori was staring into the cafe, no doubt watching the Club make fools of themselves. She turned as well, trying to fake normality. "I still don't get why we came to a museum today," Izzy began, filling the air with casual chatter. "Even if Haruhi is a commoner, she's been to museums before. How is this a learning experience?"

She thought their insane crusade of experiencing a commoners' lifestyle was both amusing and rude. It was amusing that they would go such lengths to experience Haruhi's lifestyle but rude in the sense that they often treated it like a circus act. But Haruhi never seemed to be upset by it so Izzy didn't say much about it. Though she insisted that they stop calling Haruhi a commoner. At least to her face.

Mori shifted, hands sliding into his pockets. "You like museums," he pointed out. For a moment, she had to wonder what that meant and why everyone kept saying that before coming to a thoughtful pause.

It sounded like the trip to the museum was purely for her benefit. She'd been under the impression that their impromptu trip was solely for Haruhi's benefit, bringing her to a museum she may have never visited before. Hell if she thought it was for her because that's what she liked. Izzy felt the heat rise to her face, touched and embarrassed all at once. She was a bit surprised that any of them were even thoughtful enough to want to do something that she liked.

That wasn't really fair to say, she scolded herself. As ridiculous as they could be, the Host Club were a nice bunch even if they were a bit unusual. She'd seen them, many times, go out of their way to help someone during the time it took her to acclimate to them. Many times she'd been roped into their ridiculous ploys to help another student in two short months.

So it wasn't really hard to believe that they would do something nice for her. Well, she was sure the twins and Kyoya would deny the notion but for the rest of them, she wasn't all that surprised. Izzy hugged the jacket tighter around herself, trying in vain to hide her blushing smile. There was a happy feeling in her chest, light and wistful. She hadn't felt like that in a long time.

Mori's hand reached behind her, settling at the base of her skull. It was odd to her, realizing that he was holding the back of her head instead of placing his hand on top of her head. It was a small detail, but it was different. Mori's way of showing affection was a usual ruffle or pat to the head. She'd been on the receiving end many times before along with Honey and Haruhi. But not once had she'd been held so gently, nor had she seen Honey and Haruhi handled that way either. It almost felt...affectionate in nature. That was strange.

A ball of heat settled in her stomach, unfurling gradually. She felt the heat spread, climbing towards her chest like vines, curling around her insides. Izzy was at a loss. She had no idea how to really act around Mori and it was driving her up the wall.

Izzy knew exactly what to say to the rest of them, how to keep the peace and remain neutral. She knew when to be scathing with them and when to be sisterly. But Mori? Mori left her scrambling for an ounce of...something. She just didn't know how to handle him and that bothered her. Izzy knew how to handle people, that was her thing. She knew how to adapt to another person's personality and act accordingly.

And then along came Mori.

Well, to be fair, along came the Host Club and at first, she wasn't sure what to make of any of them. But days blended into weeks and weeks blended into months and she found herself to be a part of their group. Spending so much time with them, she learned to adapt to their quirky ways, taking everything in stride. She learned how to communicate with each of them, down to Kyoya's elusive ways.

Yet she drew a blank on Mori.

Maybe because there was an inkling of attraction she had for him? Maybe because he had nerves made of complete steel and barely showed any emotion besides stony indifference. She really wasn't sure, but she didn't like it. She didn't like it one bit.

There was warmth at the back of her head from his hand, bringing her out of her whirling thoughts. She'd been quiet for far too long, she realized mutely. "I do like museums," she confirmed almost dumbly. Her words felt like heavy ash on her tongue. "I...I'm really glad we came today."

Mori allowed a tiny smile to grace his lips, unknowingly causing Izzy to swoon on the inside. That warm feeling that gradually climbed her insides threatened to bloom right out of her mouth. She didn't know what to say or even how to say it at that moment. The air around her felt completely loaded and she was afraid of the outcome.

To her relief, Honey came bounding out at that moment. Haruhi followed after him, carrying sweets that couldn't possibly be for her. Once more, Mori's hand dropped away from Izzy. The heaviness that seemingly fell over them vanished, replaced by the Host Club's boisterous ways. Izzy studied Haruhi's loaded arms, frowning in thought. "Honey-chan, you were supposed to get food to eat, not junkfood," she pointed out.

"But Berry-chan…" Honey turned his famous puppy dog eyes on her.

She regarded him with a stern look, hand on her hip. "You know, after a while, that trick of yours tends to wear off," Izzy grinned just as Kaoru shoved packaged okonomiyaki at her. She took it without a fuss, impressed that they remembered to even get her anything after insisting that she was fine. Honestly, it was probably Haruhi's doing but she didn't say anything, offering her gratitude.

Kaoru impatiently brushed her thanks off, turning a blushing face away from her. Izzy watched him hurry back toward Hikaru, smiling in almost confusion. She let it go, turning away and giving Tamaki her full attention as he babbled on what the rest of their afternoon entailed.

For the time being, Izzy was content with the distraction. She needed it.

Izzy was returned to Chi's house just in time for dinner. She waved at the club from the door, smiling all the while. Hard as it was to believe, she enjoyed their outing for once and was pretty grateful that they spent the day doing something she liked. When she stepped inside, she was practically attacked by Chihiro. "Good, you're just in time! Don't bother to take your shoes off, we're having dinner at Shinobu's house." Chihiro grabbed at Izzy, spinning her back towards the door.

"We're doing what?" Izzy blinked as she was shoved back outside. Fumiko trailed behind with a weak smile, dressed in a pink sheath dress. She was impressed that even in her constricting pencil dress, Chihiro moved quickly towards the waiting car.

"Dinner. With Shinobu and Hiroki," Fumiko said helpfully, sliding in next to Izzy.

"Since when is that a thing?" Izzy frowned.

Fumiko shrugged. "I think it's Hiroki's idea, he's been feeling better lately."

Izzy pursed her lips and slumped into her seat. Well, if it was Hiroki's idea, there was no chance of her skipping out on a family dinner. She wasn't sure what sort of illness he had but she knew it would eventually kill him and who was she to deny a dying man's request? Blankly, she reminded herself to find out what exactly was wrong with Hiroki. Though it seemed to be in poor taste to inquire about it so long after finding out that he was dying.

She could get through one dinner.

Chihiro was giving her that look anyway, that look that told her to be on her best behavior. Honestly, she wasn't the one with the attitude problem but of course she had to keep her composure. Why she had to be the mature one in a room full of adults when she was only seventeen was mind boggling but she kept her sour thoughts to herself.

Ogen was there at the door to greet them, stoically ushering them in. Izzy remembered to greet the woman with a smile and made small talk as she led them to the dining room. Kioka and Katsu were there, much to Izzy's dismay. Of course she didn't mind Kioka but hell if she wanted to deal with the nightmare known as Katsu. Takuma, she noted, was nowhere in sight. Good. She didn't have the emotional capacity to deal with both Takuma and Katsu at the moment.

"Aunt Ki," Izzy smiled politely, going to greet her aunt. Kioka seemed almost startled that Izzy directly greeted her, eyes almost wide. "How are you?"

"Oh, well—erm," Kioka stuttered. "I'm well, Izabera-chan, and yourself?"

"Peachy," Izzy replied through an odd smile. She was the exact opposite of peachy, in no mood to sit around her family. "Call me Bera, Izabera is a mouthful." She thought it was almost funny that Kioka would use a nickname and Takuma wouldn't. Kioka blinked but nodded, smiling brightly. It was disturbing how much she resembled Chihiro and Masami. Though she didn't hold herself as strongly as either Morimoto sister. Izzy would say she held herself as if she were bracing for something terrible to happen.

Izzy glanced at Katsu, regarding him coolly. "Katsu," she greeted flatly, her smile vanishing. She really didn't care to play nice with Katsu, it's not like they were in a room full of outsiders. If her family was aware of her disdain for Katsu and Takuma, they'd just have to deal with it.

"Izabera." Katsu's eyes were cold. She really didn't care.

Ogen returned then, pushing Hiroki in a wheelchair. He seemed livelier at the moment, grinning specifically at the sight of Izzy. "Busy-bee," the old man greeted, causing her to spin around.

"Oji-chan," Izzy smiled genuinely while approaching Hiroki. She leaned down and kissed his cheeks, laughing when his prominent mustache tickled at her face. "You look well tonight."

"It's good to see you," Hiroki grinned up at her, while grabbing at her hands. Truthfully he looked tired and worn out but Izzy wasn't evil enough to say so. Besides, he really did seem happy to see her. She wouldn't rain on his parade. Shinobu came in only seconds after, dressed impeccably in a slate gray kimono. Her hair was scrapped back into her infamously tight bun. Izzy was positive that Shinobu might have been quite the beauty in her youth but her insistence on wearing her hair so tight probably sapped that beauty away.

"Good evening, Obaa-san." Izzy greeted. Hiroki squeezed at her hands, still smiling despite his wife's sour disposition.

"Izabera."

Izzy didn't bother on using a nickname. Something told her Shinobu would sneer at the thought of a nickname. It was a wonder Masami and Chihiro even had personalities with a sourpuss mother like Shinobu.

"Now that we've all arrived, shall we sit?" Shinobu proposed. Izzy was positive that they didn't have a choice regardless.

"Uncle Takuma won't be joining us?" Fumiko asked while settling next to Izzy. One would think Kioka would answer a question about her husband, but she stayed silent.

"Your Uncle is very busy tonight. He'll join us next time," Shinobu answered instead as several maids followed in after Ogen. They trotted in with trays full of far too much food for only six people.

"Next time?" Izzy muttered under her breath. Fumiko reached over and subtly pinched at her cousin's thigh. She continued to smile despite Izzy's dirty look. She was under the impression that family dinners weren't a thing with the Morimoto family. Dinner was a quiet, almost awkward affair. Shinobu and Katsu stayed stoically silent while Hiroki carried on several conversations with his nieces and daughters. Despite her skittish behavior, even Kioka spoke.

"Are you cold, Izabera?"

Izzy paused, the conversation about her Japanese Literature test coming to a halt. She glanced at Shinobu, confused by the question. And then she realized. She was still wearing Mori's jacket.

Oh, hell.

"I was," Izzy said after the long pause. Everyone was looking now, wondering about the too big jacket she was swamped in. "I was out earlier, and I was cold."

"That jacket doesn't look to be your style. It's a bit too masculine, isn't it?"

Izzy nearly glared at her grandmother. "It's not my jacket, I borrowed it from a...friend."

She was friends with the Host Club at this point, wasn't she? She spent most of her afternoons with them because of Club. She spent her day off from school with them as well on a frequent basis. She stopped in between classes to talk to any one of them. A funny feeling settled over her as she thought about the Host Club. It wasn't a bad feeling but...

God, she was friends with them.

Shinobu raised her eyebrows. "A friend? A boy?"

"I suppose you could call him that." Izzy couldn't help the sarcastic jab. She hated when an obvious question was asked. It was a set up.

Shinobu turned sharply to Chihiro, dismissing Izzy like she was seven and not seventeen. "Is it wise to allow her to spend time alone with a boy, Chihiro?"

Izzy's scoffed, "Allowed—"

Chihiro waved the notion off. "Please, Okaa-san, Izabera is allowed to have friends that are boys. It's innocent."

"Masami was around that age when she ran off to Italy, wasn't she?"

Hiroki's face sank at the mention of the scandal eighteen years ago. Izzy's fingers tightened around her chopsticks, understanding Shinobu's implications. Chihiro noticed his expression, frowning tightly. "Where on earth is she going to run off to? Back to Italy?" she snapped almost scathingly. Honestly, with the way Shinobu treated anyone around them, it would be no wonder if Izzy did run the other way.

"Does it matter where?"

Chihiro's eyes narrowed but it was Hiroki that spoke up, halting the impending argument. "That's enough, Shinobu." His voice was like stone. "Izabera is allowed to have friends."

"Actually, Oji-san," Katsu spoke up next. Everyone's head swiveled around to give him the spotlight. "All of Izabera's friends are boys. She's...quite popular at school." Katsu tried to remain aloof but there was a subtle twitch to his eyebrow. Fumiko was positive that Izzy was going to snap her chopsticks in half. Her grip seemed to get tighter with each passing second. Again, she subtly reached over and patted at her thigh, hoping that she understood the silent plea to control her waning temper.

"Is this true, Izabera? All of your friends are young men?"

Maybe if Fumiko and Katsu weren't present, she would have pointed out that Haruhi was actually a girl. But that wasn't her right to say at all, so she wisely kept that tidbit to herself. Besides, she wasn't sure how Fumiko would take Haruhi being a girl. She always went on about how cute Haruhi was and it might be shocking to reveal that Fumiko was swooning over another girl.

"I don't know if you'd count Renge as a girl but she's definitely not a boy. A monster, maybe, but not a boy."

"Enough with the jokes, Izabera."

"Oh, it's no joke."

Shinobu paused, eyes cutting a deadly path towards Izzy. To her credit, the brunette kept her composure even under her grandmother's frosty gaze. Fumiko cleared her throat. "It really is innocent, Obaa-san. Katsu doesn't bother to actually get to know any of Bera's friends, but their friendship is innocent. They think of her like a sister, nothing more."

The room remained silent for several seconds as Shinobu thought over her next move. Izzy didn't falter, still holding the old woman's gaze. "That may be so but remember, Izabera, we have a reputation to uphold. I won't have you tarnishing it any more than your mother has by being frivolous."

Izzy bristled.

"You listen here—"

"Shinobu."

If Izzy thought Shinobu's glare was cold, it was nothing compared to Hiroki's stare. Hell, he wasn't even glaring at her, but Izzy still shrank in on herself. Fumiko and Katsu mirrored her defensive stance, feeling as cowed as Izzy despite not being the center of attention. "Perhaps…" Kioka finally spoke up in what felt like a long time. Izzy nearly forgot the woman was even present. "Perhaps we're getting off track, Mother? Father wanted to have a nice dinner and we shouldn't spend it bickering. Bera-chan is a respectable girl, I'm sure there isn't anything scandalous going on at school."

It was probably the most she's ever even said in one sitting. Izzy was honestly impressed. Even when Shinobu turned her withering stare on Kioka, her aunt didn't falter. Izzy had to guess that Kioka's nerves were made of iron after dealing with not only Shinobu but Takuma as well.

The poor woman.

Shinobu nodded slowly, jaw tightening. "Very well. Remember what I said, Izabera."

Dinner was awkward after that. While Kioka and Chihiro made an effort to spark up a conversation with everyone, Katsu and Shinobu remained frostily quiet. Izzy didn't really care either way, relieved that they were being silent. She was still angry about Shinobu's comment. She wanted to smack her forehead in exasperation. How could she forget to give the jacket back to Mori? Why didn't he ask for it back before she returned to Chi's house?

It was bad enough they had such a low opinion for Masami. Now they probably thought their opinions were concrete and that Izzy inherited Masami's 'frivolous' ways. There was nothing frivolous about her mother. With a family like this, she'd run in the opposite direction too. Dinner gradually came to a close and Hiroki was returned to his room, having become tired. He kissed his grandchildren goodbye, insisting that they come back soon. Izzy didn't have the heart to tell him she'd rather do anything else than be in Shinobu's presence again but promised him anyway.

"You really should be careful with our reputation, Izabera." Katsu struck up a conversation as they were left on their own. Chihiro and Kioka stood back with Shinobu. Chihiro and Shinobu were obviously arguing with Kioka trying to unsuccessfully put an end to it.

"You know, a good president to a multimillion company knows how to forge strong relationships with future partners and consumers. We came to Ouran around the same time and I've made friends. Have you?" Izzy flipped her hair as she turned to smile at Katsu.

"It would do you some good to make friends, Katsu," Fumiko sighed with a softer look about her. "Maybe you wouldn't be so tightly wound."

"It would also get you out of the house and away from Takuma."

Katsu's face tightened. "Don't talk about my father like you know him."

"Like I want to know him," Izzy scoffed while folding her arms across her chest. "Either way, mind your business. You're trying to make me look bad in front of our grandparents."

"I just worry for our reputation. Like Shinobu said, we don't need it to take any more hits."

Izzy rolled her eyes and scoffed. "I wonder what would happen to our reputation if it got out that Takuma was an abusive bastard."

Katsu stepped forward threateningly, but Izzy found herself smiling condescendingly at him. She relaxed her arms across her chest and raised her head, giving him the impression that she was looking down on him. He scowled angrily, hands balling into fists. "You can't keep hiding behind empty threats, Izabera."

"And you can't keep hiding behind your father."

Fumiko took a deep breath. "Okay, you guys, seriously. Why are we even butting heads like children? We're family, we should get along."

"It's because of her." Katsu sneered.

Izzy blinked at Katsu, wondering for the umpteenth time what her life had come to. "You're kidding, right? How is it because of me? You've harassed me since I got here. Your father slapped the daylights out of me."

"Because you think you can come here and take something that's not even yours. Just because you're the oldest doesn't make you more fitting of Hiroki's business."

"Katsu, I don't know how many times I have to say this before you get it through that thick skull of yours," Izzy scowled harshly, almost throwing her hands up. "I don't want Morimoto. I didn't come here for that."

"Liar. Father says—"

"Your father is out of his mind. Stop feeding into whatever crap he's telling you."

"I think what she means to say—," Fumiko said loudly, shooting Izzy a look. Sure, Katsu shouldn't treat Izzy so disdainfully but Izzy didn't have to feed into it all the time. "—is that perhaps you should form your own opinions on her instead of going by Takuma's bias."

"I said what I meant—"

"It may do you some good to have some independence from your father, Katsu. Think about it," Fumiko grabbed at Izzy, tugging her towards her waiting mother. Chihiro seemed annoyed, shooting Shinobu dirty looks every so often before the three made their escape.

"A man's jacket? Really?" Chihiro made a sour face at Izzy as the three of them fell into the waiting car to bring them home.

"Well, it's not like you gave me a chance to change," Izzy pointed out, sinking in on herself.

Chihiro clucked her tongue, nonplussed. "Shinobu is never going to let this go. Now she's going to be convinced that you're just like your mother, boy crazy." Chihiro sighed at the thought, wondering how she would achieve damage control. Masami wasn't even boy crazy but she wasn't around to defend the label slapped onto her after running off. Although she was sure that Masami wouldn't care much. That's how her sister was. She never cared what people thought of her.

Fumiko leaned over into Izzy, smiling secretly. "So, whose jacket is that?"

Izzy's sour look deepened, shrugging Fumiko away with a petulant shrug. "What difference does it make?"

"It makes all the difference. It's Mori-senpai's jacket, isn't it?"

"Mori?" Chihiro asked with raised eyebrows.

Fumiko eagerly turned to her mother. "Her classmate—well, friend now. They're totally friends now. It's—oh, Mama, you know him. He's that national kendo champion you like so much. Morinozuka."

"Oh my, is that so?"

"Please don't tell me that you're a fangirl too, Chi."

Chihiro could only grin, leaning forward. "He's quite talented, you know. Smart, too. Oh, and so handsome!"

"Chi, please—"

"And he's taller than her, Mama."

"What difference does that even make, Fumi?"

"All the difference."

"Ah, his family has wonderful social standing. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to mention that to Shinobu next time. She can't be upset if the family has something to gain from your friendship," Chihiro tapped her cheek thoughtfully. "It may get her off your back." She was a business mogul, after all, and she was always aware of what others could do for her. If it meant shutting her mother up, then maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to mention it in passing. Besides, Hiroki was also a fan.

"Oh, mama, you don't even know. She's friends with all the popular kids. Suoh and Ootori and the Hitachiin brothers. Haninozuka-senpai too. That's who she hangs out with all the time. The popular boys."

"Is that so? That makes you popular too, doesn't it?"

Izzy pinched at the bridge of her nose, sighing heavily. "Can we please—"

"I think he likes her, Mama. He always looks out for her—"

"—He looks out for everything with a pulse—"

"—He looks at her a lot too—"

"—Everyone does, I look like an anomaly—"

Chihiro watched in amusement as the two tried in vain to talk over the other. She decided not to point out the fact that Izzy's face was a deep shade of red while denying Fumiko's accusations. "Either way, it was nice of him to lend you his jacket. Make sure to give it back quickly," Chihiro said over the loud bickering, smiling all the while.

"Right, right."

Somehow, Izzy managed to lose complete control in the span of two short months.

Izzy was a curious girl by nature. It was her downfall, one of her biggest vices. She couldn't leave well enough alone, Alphonse would always say. Her curiosity tended to get her into a lot of trouble growing up.

Moving to Japan didn't change a thing.

In fact, moving to Japan probably made it worse. It was her curiosity that caused her to join the Host Club. It was her curiosity that caused her to ask Tamaki or the twins what the hell they were doing every time they got some wacky idea in their head. It was her curiosity that caused her to pay closer attention to Ozawa Hisa. It was no secret that the two didn't necessarily like one another, trading barbs through backhanded comments and sneak disses. It was normal and no one batted an eye at the mean-spirited comments traded between the two girls.

Izzy noticed, however, that there was less bite to Hisa's comments that following morning. Hisa's weak comment barely audited an actual reply from Izzy, causing the brunette to take a pause in returning the insult. Hisa must have realized it too because she turned sharply and hurried away from Izzy. She watched the honey-blonde go, face twisted up in thought. "That was different," Izzy said after a long pause.

"Somethings bothering Ozawa-hime," Honey pointed out. If it were anyone else, maybe she'd have a scathing remark, but it was Honey, so she only shrugged.

"Something's always bothering Ozawa, I think that's her personality."

That mean comment earned her a tug on her hair from Mori. "Something different," he pointed out, expression never changing. Izzy stuck her tongue out at him, hand on her hip.

"Right, something different is bothering her. I wonder what."

Honey and Mori sent her a look, dry expressions hinting at something. "What? What do you want me to—oh, you've got to be kidding. We're not even friends."

Honey pouted.

Izzy sighed heavily. "Fine, fine. I'll see if I can do something for her. But if she insults me—"

Mori shrugged, "She always insults you."

She didn't get an actual chance to confront Hisa until much later. It seemed as if the honey-blonde was always surrounded by a flock of equally idiotic girls. Izzy wasn't sure why Hisa insisted on being friends with any one of those particular girls. It was clear something was off with Hisa but none of them seemed to care.

Shallow idiots.

Izzy stepped into the bathroom, sighing heavily. She wasn't particularly in the mood for Club after classes but that didn't make a difference. Kyoya would give her silent Hell if she skipped out on one of her days. "Satan…" she muttered darkly before coming to a pause. Hisa was at one of the sinks, dark tears running rivers down her cheeks. Her eyes were bloodshot, her nose shining red and running. Izzy cringed as Hisa whirled around. "Oh dear…"

"What are you doing here?" Hisa hissed angrily.

"It's a bathroom, you bottled blonde. Anyone could just come in here." Izzy's eyes rolled harshly. "What's wrong with you?"

"That's none of your business."

Izzy ignored her, shoving Hisa to the side. She ran water over napkins before turning back to Hisa with an expectant tilt to her head. Hisa glared at the brunette but didn't move. "Oh, for heaven's sake!" Izzy tugged Hisa over to then plush looking bench and shoved her down. "You look like a drowned raccoon." She cursed Mori and Honey, blaming them completely for her reasoning in looking after Hisa. It was clear the other girl wasn't pleased with the turn of events, but she told them that she would try anyway. "What's going on with you, Hime?" Izzy leaned over, dabbing at Hisa's swollen face. She spoke in a soft tone, focused on mopping up Hisa's mascara-stained face.

"What do you care?" Hisa sneered. Izzy paused, staring down at her with a blank expression. She suddenly grabbed at Hisa's cheeks, squishing them almost comically and causing Hisa's lips to pucker.

"You're a Princess in distress, Hime," Izzy grinned sadistically. "It would go against Club policy to ignore a princess in need."

"You're full of it."

"Perhaps. Now either tell me what's wrong or shut up and let me finish cleaning you up."

For a moment, it seemed like Hisa would remain silent. And Izzy was fine with that because she technically did try. But then Hisa pursed her mouth and Izzy knew she would start talking. "I have an older brother," Hisa said softly. "I just...I try so hard and it's never good enough for my parents. All they ever do is focus on Ryoma. He doesn't even try as much as I do but they love him more than me."

"Listen, Ozawa, I'm sure that's—"

"Don't tell me it's not true because it is, Giovanni. They do love him more and they're prouder of his accomplishments. I can't do anything right."

Izzy didn't immediately reply, leaning closer to get at the smudged makeup directly under Hisa's eye. Hisa paused, staring directly at the planes of Izzy's face, noticing an old scar near her eye. "What happened to your eye? Is that a scar?"

Izzy blinked, forgetting all about her scar. "It's nothing, I fell over a little while ago."

"You fell? Aren't you a dancer? How does a dancer fall?"

"It happens. Shut up. This isn't about me, it's about you and your inferiority complex to your brother."

Hisa scoffed, insulted but Izzy didn't care. She stopped wiping Hisa's face, reaching under her chin to tilt her head up. She smiled serenely, hair cascading over her shoulder. Hisa thought she made a pretty picture. "Listen, Ozawa, you need to work hard for yourself. Not to please your parents. Don't kill yourself trying to prove your worth. You shouldn't have to prove anything to them."

Hisa blinked wide eyes up at her, somewhat speechless. She wasn't expecting this from Izabera. She was almost touched that the brunette was even bothering with trying to make her feel better. She'd done nothing but harass Izzy since the moment she stepped foot in their classroom. And sure, Izzy gave it back to her just as much, but she never initiated anything. She didn't deserve Hisa's hostility. Hisa reached up slowly, slim fingers curling around Izzy's wrist. The leggy brunette was still smiling down at her, causing warmth to bloom in her chest. Hisa smiled slowly.

"Call me Hisa."

TeeBeMe: Kind of seems like everyone has a little crush on Izzy, lol. That's just the Hostess in her.