Disclaimer – I don't own them or profit from them. This, like all fanfic, is just for fun.

AN – I had planned on having this posted a couple of days ago, but going back and editing these bits of writing that I haven't touched in a couple of years is fussy and boring. It'll get done. Just not as fast as I would like. ALSO - Thank you to everyone who reviewed/faved/etc.! Its really encouraging and reassuring for someone whose never posted anything before.



Femininity

Most people probably assumed that Morinozuka Takashi liked cute things.

It wasn't an entirely incorrect assumption. He liked Mitsukuni, and Mitsukuni, he supposed, was 'cute', so there were things in the world which were cute, and which he liked. But unlike his tiny cousin, he didn't like things because they were cute.

Honey genuinely liked sweet things, pink fluffy things, frilly lacy things, cute things. But Mori had been raised in a very traditional household, and the traditional aesthetics of spare elegance and reserved natural beauty were far more appealing to him.

And he'd found that applied when it came to girls as well.

Sometimes he felt that joining the host club had been one of the worst decisions he had ever made, because at times he wanted to give up hope on the entirety of the gentler sex. Sitting through hours of giggling and gossiping and inane conversation - if he didn't have the distraction of looking after Mitsukuni he might have run from the room as fast as he could, never to return. Maybe he should have joined the history club instead. But his mother had been concerned that with his reserved mien, loyalty to his cousin, and his fierce dedication to kendo that he would never learn how to interact with females. The history club certainly wouldn't help. So, half to stay close to his cousin's side, and half to offer his mother some sort of reassurance that he wouldn't end up alone, he had joined the Host Club.

However, just because he didn't like cute when it came to girls didn't mean that he didn't like them feminine.

There was a difference.

When he first met Haruhi he had been baffled at Tamaki and the twins constantly fawning over her and gushing over how cute she was. Aside from the fact that he didn't really see the appeal in cute girls in the first place, she had to be the least cute girl he had ever seen.

Well…perhaps sometimes, sometimes when the twins forced her into some frilly concoction or she let out a rare giggle, sometimes, he supposed, she might be considered 'cute'. But it wasn't the cute that Tamaki, Hikaru, Kaoru, and even Mitsukuni meant. These reactions were cute in her because they were in such contrast to her usual manner.

Most of the time she was practical, highly self-sufficient, and straight-forward with a snarky, biting edge. She didn't flounce or bounce around like most girls and didn't bat her eyelashes or fidget with her hair.

She could care less if people even thought she was a girl.

So was it really so surprising that before now he had never before realized just how feminine Haruhi could be? Seeing how Tamaki and the twins tugged and pushed her this way and that, and witnessing her decidedly un-girl-like reactions to things one often forgot that Haruhi wasn't just another one of the boys.

But at this moment Mori was very much aware of just how delicate and feminine the sole female member of the host club was.

Of course, for someone of his stature most girls seemed like very small creatures. But Haruhi, over a foot shorter than him, barely reached his shoulder. Her hair had grown out a bit over the summer and at present was pulled back into a short nub of a ponytail. With her hair up and wearing the flimsy little indigo sundress the twins mother had sent her as a special gift (their mother seemed to have a much better grasp on the type of clothing Haruhi would be willing to wear than either the twins, Tamaki, or even Harhui's father) Mori found it impossible to ignore the wispy bits of her hair that lay against the pale skin at the nape of her neck. His eyes betrayed him as they slid down the supple arch of her throat and across the almost fragile curve of her shoulders. From this angle he could just see the wings of her collar bones on one side and the subtle ridge of her spine on the other.

He knew from past rescue attempts all of that exposed skin was just as smooth and silky as it looked. He always felt a little guilty whenever he touched her. She was a girl, and he shouldn't feel the distracted fascination of her soft skin under his large, rough hands.

Honorable intentions should keep him from wanting to continue to touch her, should keep him from accidentally brushing against her, or offering her shoulder or head a friendly pat.

Haruhi huffed a sigh, drawing his attention to her sweetly modest curves, before she craned her head up and around to look up at her silent escort.

"They've probably gotten themselves lost and just called a car by now."

"Aah."

Her eyes were so huge and luminous. That at least he noticed even when she was dressed as a boy.

They were in Hokkaido on yet another of Tamaki's harebrained, last minute, vacations. At some point during the day's scheduled shopping excursion Tamaki and the twins had dashed off in excitement about commoner traditions and regional treats, dragging Honey with them.

Mori had been torn – wanting to follow, but aware that doing so would leave Haruhi unattended. He was a little bemused at the way Haruhi could be the center of attention one minute, but then be so easily forgotten in the next. Not that she seemed to mind.

Today she'd simply rolled her eyes a little and invited him to come along with her while she shopped for souvenirs.

He'd been pleasantly surprised to find himself enjoying the afternoon and the quiet companionship as Haruhi went about her business. Mori liked that she didn't feel the need to fill the silence with idle chatter.

He'd been surprised once again when she wordlessly slipped a bag with a book of Heian poetry into his hand with a brief smile. He hadn't realized that she'd noticed him reading it while she bought her father a good luck charm. Of all the host club members he was the only one who didn't constantly indulge himself. He couldn't help it. His family was more recently wealthy than Mitzukuni's, and more strictly traditional than Kyoya's without the foreign or modern influences of the Suohs and Hatachins. When they were growing up anything that he or his brother needed was immediately and unquestioningly provided. But 'wants' were more closely assessed and regulated.

Mori trailed after Haruhi as she ducked into another shop, pondering the bloom of warmth in his chest. Was it normal to look at a girl and, realizing how tiny and vulnerable she was, want to protect her from everything?

He wanted to protect Mitsukuni because it was his duty and it was what he was born to do, and as a general rule he knew it was honorable to protect anyone that it was in his power to protect. But he had never felt such an overwhelming urge to safeguard a person who was as capable and self-sufficient as Haruhi.

Maybe it had something to do with her complete and utter unselfconsciousness. Even now as they walked down the crowded street he could tell she was unaware of the appraising looks men were giving her. He'd seen it enough times to know that Haruhi was oblivious to that sort of interest from the opposite sex. Euphemisms and subtext were lost on the girl's direct and literal personality.

"Okay, I think I have souvenirs for everyone back home." She looked up at the sky, presumably to gauge the time, "I guess that I should wrap it up and we can go back to the mansion, was there anything else you needed while we're out Mori-sempai?"

"No,"

She gave him a small smile before approaching the counter to make her last purchases.

Takashi didn't intentionally change his expression when the young man who had been lingering in the shop began to approach her, but something in his eyes effectively brought the other male up short. It wasn't the first time today that Mori had warned someone off, but now that he was noticing Haruhi as female it felt a little less like part of his instinct to protect, and a little more like possessiveness.

The young man's eyes flicked between Haruhi and Mori before he backed away a couple of steps with a wry smile on his face, his hands raised in a gesture of defeat.

"Sorry, no offense meant. I didn't know she was taken."

If he had been someone else Takashi would have started at that. He had pondered before the possibility that Haruhi might end up in a relationship with one of the club members. It was obvious that Tamaki and Hikaru liked a lot, and as Honey had mentioned to him, it was likely that Kaoru and Kyoya were simply unaware of feelings that already existed. But he had never really thought that anyone might suppose that he was a contender for her romantic affections.

The changes in social dynamics which would result from Haruhi dating one of the Hosts were something he had considered at length. Mori considered change something to be avoided if at all possible. He liked the small tight-knit group they had formed. Thoughts of the girl with any of his friends had always made him…uncomfortable. He had always assumed that it was his instinctive resistance and dislike for change that caused this discomfort. So he was surprised to find that this boy's misinterpretation of his relationship with Haruhi caused possessive satisfaction to reverberate through him.

Mori took a step closer to her as she finished paying, continuing to survey their surroundings. It was easy to transfer his inherent drive to protect to this tiny girl. He lifted a hand to rest on her shoulder as they left the little shop, deftly using slight pressure to steer her away from bumping into displays and knocking items off shelves as she sorted through her wallet and ignored her forward progress.

Growing up, one of the lessons his father had worked hard to instill in Takashi and Satoshi was honor in all facets of life, including the treatment of women. When he had started to physically mature – shooting up so fast he had to buy new clothes nearly every month - his father had begun to impart advice and wisdom on courtship and intimacy in quiet private moments. Takashi had wanted nothing more than to escape these mortifying moments, but now things his father had said began to drift back to him.

"Most women are physically weaker than most men. You should protect women both from the dangers of the world and from those men who are less than honorable. There is no greater way to dishonor oneself than by mistreating a woman, by hurting her in any way. Physically or emotionally."

A long silence had followed this statement. The kind of meaningful silence his mother teasingly called, 'a Morinozuka conversation'.

"In your personal relationships you should do everything in you power to protect and safeguard a woman from harm. You should never intentionally toy with a woman's emotions."

His father saw the wary confusion in his son's face and patted him gently on the shoulder, offering a slight smile, "It will be easier to understand when you find a woman you want to protect."

He steered Haruhi towards an ice-cream stand. It was a hot day, and the walk back to the mansion was long. He calmly intercepted her when she reached for her wallet, paying the amused vendor over her irritated protests that she wasn't so poor she couldn't afford an ice cream.

"Haruhi," the calm admonishment in his voice stopped her and she huffed again as she accepted the cone with a slightly sullen 'thank you'. A corner of his mouth twitched.

Mori suspected that Haruhi might offer a pleasant surprise to anyone willing to invest the patience to peel back the protective layers she surrounded herself with. It was true that she was not an observably passionate person. But then, neither was he. That only meant that he knew all too well that appearances could be deceiving.

What would it be like to be the man who unlocked Haruhi's ardor?

More importantly, was it even possible? Maybe she really was unaware and unconcerned with that sort of thing.

In a motion he had done a thousand times for Mitsukuni, Mori reached forward and cleaned a bit of ice cream from her cheek with a thumb, lifting his hand afterward to lick the sweetness away.

Thumb still in mouth, he froze.

Or rather, Haruhi's huge eyes, focused on that thumb with startled awareness, made him go still. Her eyes flicked to his and widened even more before a slow flush began to bloom across her cheeks.

She whipped away, but he could still see the tips of her ears burning a fierce red.

Perhaps she was not so unaware and unconcerned with that sort of thing after all.

Takashi couldn't help the almost Kyoya-like smile of satisfaction that appeared briefly on his face before he continued after her. It was a long walk back to the mansion after all.

-END-


*Peace Y'all*