Author's Notes: For two of my favorite characters in this series. The entire story is complete, while the final section awaits the return of my beta-reader from Spain, shatteredmidnightdreams, to whom I owe much thanks. Also, to those who may be waiting on my other stories ("Cleansing" in particular), I promise the story is still alive and kicking.

Umehito Nekozawa and Houshakuji Renge: Ten Encounters

i.

It was inevitable really, with her enviable (on top of which self-appointed) position as manager in the Host Club and her higher-than-thou personality, that Houshakuji Renge would become the object of ill feelings for many of the young ladies attending Ouran High School.

And so one afternoon, the vivacious blonde found herself running through the empty hallways, rapid footsteps echoing clearly off the vaulted ceiling as she tried to escape the three girls who were fast on her heels, one of whom was armed with a pair of scissors. If one had listened to the story of the pursuers, "the shameless woman" was long past due a lesson to be put in her place.

Few times in her protected life had Renge been as afraid as she was that day, held against the wall by two of her captors in a poorly lit room that turned even darker when the one with the scissors closed the heavy wooden doors. She could see the glitter of the sharp instrument approach and hear the taunting voices of those around her. She couldn't make any noise due to the hands clasped against her mouth, and a tear broke out when she felt someone lift one of her long strands of hair.

It was at that moment that the room turned pitch black and the temperature dropped so suddenly that it could not have been of natural cause, and the voices of her captors turned from panic to terror when the spine-chilling, but strangely familiar voice drifted from right within their midst. A minute later, she found herself free, the three girls fled and their screams fading into the distant hallway. She would have run away too, had her legs not given out from the fear and sudden release from danger.

From beneath his heavy cloak and hood, her rescuer extended a timid hand to her as he apologized abashedly for relapsing into the occult diction that she worked so hard to cure before.

Why is he apologizing?

It didn't come within a mile of the knight-in-shining-armor scenarios that she dreamed of in her video games, but she took the offered hand.

ii.

"Gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you the latest addition to our family."

Renge's eyes widened when she saw the host club president pull him out from behind the magically appearing doors. He was without his wig and in his school uniform, but wore on top of it a heavy trench coat and pair of sunglasses to ward off the brightness in the room.

Not bad, even if the Matrix-look is beyond yesteryear.

"Now before you object, you must agree that, in his… uncluttered form, Nekozawa sempai more than meets the basic requirements."

"That may be the case but…" began one twin.

"… What do we do about his photophobia?" finished the other.

The self-proclaimed King of the host club shook his finger just so and chuckled confidently. "Sempai has demonstrated his determination to change before. All we have to do is finish what we started and surely this diamond in the rough will shine through. What say you?"

"If you say so, I guess…" said the twins.

"Whatever generates more revenue for the club is fine by me." said Kyouya as he scribbled away in his notepad.

"Waai! Welcome, Neko-chan!" said Honey.

"… Mhmm." said Mori.

Satisfied with the consensus, Tamaki turned to the manager with a twinkle in his eyes. "Renge, I'll leave him in your hands, teach him well."

iii.

"I think it's about time we figured out what your niche is."

The two were alone in the club room late after school, with the curtains parted slightly to allow some daylight from the waning orange sun to enter. It had become a pattern for them—on days when there were no club activities—to practice by themselves in order to help Nekozawa overcome his fear of light and become a more sociable person as well. To that end, Renge was trainer, teacher, and practice partner all in one.

Nekozawa scratched the back of his head before responding hesitantly. "But all I am familiar with are the occult, the supernatural, the dark arts, vampire lore…"

In the place of a light bulb, a high-powered motor kicked into gear in Renge's mind. "Wait, did you say vampire?"

"Why yes. In fact, I've read in the family tome that the Nekozawa blood line leads back to former Austria-Hungary, branched from a clan associated with Dracula's own…"

"Well why didn't you say so earlier? Don't you know that young women have fantasized about vampire romances for ages?"

"They… they have?"

"Of course we have! Before emo-boys were in, even before yaoi hit the mainstream, there were vampires, phantoms of the night whom damsels dream of being swept away by to eternal romance. It is only one of the most enduring fetishes that women have, you know."

"I… see."

"So, why don't we give it a try? Pretend I'm the maiden and you're the young count who has fallen for my beauty and come to take me away."

"I'll… I'll try my best."

And she believed him; Renge saw how hard he'd worked in the past weeks, she knew how much he tried not to disappoint her, and when he said he'd try his best, he would.

What she didn't expect was to find herself swept off her feet, an unexpectedly firm arm wrapped gently around her waist, and staring into the bluest irises that she'd never taken time to pay attention to. His face was so close she could feel the wispy ends of his hair tickle her cheeks. The words he breathed into her ear sent shivers down her spine, but not from fear; blinking and breathing became afterthoughts.

By the time she regained her faculties of thought, she was back on her feet, and Nekozawa was apologizing profusely again for… something.

He may have been blushing, but the poor lighting made it hard to see, which was good, because she couldn't be sure that her own face hadn't turned red… especially with how fast her pulse had become.

iv.

Valentine's Day arrived a little more than a month after Nekozawa's induction into the host club, not that the occasion ever played a part in the lonely third year's life. This year, it only served as a reminder of how little progress he had made: he still had not made his host club debut, nor could he shed his hooded robe for more than thirty minutes in a regularly lit environment before passing out into an unseemly pile on the floor.

But the worst feeling came from the thought of letting down Renge, who was no doubt disappointed in him. After all, the last time—and only time—they role played resulted in his teacher becoming so upset that she was unable to speak for a full minute afterwards, only to leave him with a brusquely pronounced "That's all for today" before turning and making her exit hastily.

As he walked down the hallway to his next class, he passed by several chocolate-toting girls in the hallway. Following them out of the corner of his eye, he saw the cheerful group make a beeline for two of his fellow host club members and classmates, Honinozuka Mitsukini and Morinozuka Takashi. Leaving behind the high-pitched sounds of delight which ensued, Nekozawa returned his vision to the marble-tiled floor below and walked away. It was a sight he'd become familiar with; innumerable girls approaching their favorite host club members throughout the day, bearing rare and expensive or hand-made candies that they'd put their hearts into making.

He on the other hand had never even received an obligatory chocolate up till this day in his life… which was fine, as long as he had the darkness to embrace him and Kirimi by his side.

But maybe, just once…

There was still time when he entered the classroom, but just as he was about to open his book bag, a classmate several seats away waved for his attention. "Hey, there's someone here to see you."

Straightening out his robe, Nekozawa stood and walked to doorway, where he found Renge waiting outside. He cringed as she glanced over his signature attire with a look of annoyance.

"Face me properly when I'm speaking to you."

He complied, pushing back his hood and removing his wig, after which she thrust a small silver-wrapped box out at him.

Eyes wide at the elegant package in his hands, Nekozawa looked up, confused. "Renge-san, is this…?"

The host club manager, standing in her usual pose with her hands at the side of her waist, spoke with a hint of impatience. "Valentines Day's chocolates; obligatory, mind you, since I am the manger of the host club."

But one would not have known that it was merely obligatory from the way he smiled, so happy to have received a gift on Valentines Day, and so in spite of her previous resolve not to, Renge began to smile as well.

They were, after all, the only obligatory chocolates she gave out that day.