(A/N: I forgot to mention at the beginning of this story that I do not own Ouran High School Host Club. Demiya and the plot are, however, and I plan to keep it that way. )

SEVEN

Seeing Tamaki

Tamaki is usually very charming, open, and very outgoing, but sitting there on the couch opposite me, absentmindedly looking out the window, he was something I'd never seen before. Nervous. Awkward.

Still, I had no room to talk. I was nervous and awkward. I didn't know what to think exactly or what to talk about. Sure, the blond boy across from me still made my heart flutter a little, but Kyoya had the entirety of it.

I was up for hours last night, finishing my homework, crying over my sudden engagement. I was exhausted, but there's not a lot I can do right now. All I wanted was to either sleep or find something to talk about with him.

Who in the hell thought this one up, jeez. I hope he knew that everything was going to be awkward for a while. A while as in a really long time. We would never find anything to do, anything to talk about. Finally, we spoke. At the same time. "Demiya-"

"Tamaki-"

"You go first, Demi."

"I just want you to know..." I said, "I didn't ask for this. I mean, I'm okay with it, but if we're only going to be friends who are getting married, that's fine."

"I was going to say the same thing."

"Are we only willing to be friends getting married?" I asked.

"It depends on if we fall in love, I guess."

"Well, I'm interested in someone else, so it may take a while."

"That's alright," he said softly, lightly resting his cheek in his hand.

"Can I just say," I said, "I'd also like to know the real you. Not the 'Host' you."

"What do you mean?"

"We have to know each other. Not the facade, but the stuff underneath."

"The... stuff underneath?"

"Have you really never done this before?" I asked in disbelief, leaning forward. Tamaki looked at me for a long moment.

"Not that I remember, no."

"It's simple." I said, "We simply ask simple questions. Questions of favorites. What's your favorite color, favorite movie, you know, stuff like that. I'm sure you've done it with Haruhi."

"Over time, I guess."

"What do you know about her?" I asked. He thought for a second before answering.

"She likes sushi. Or, fancy tuna. She doesn't really like tropical water parks. She's not afraid of bugs. She likes the beach. She doesn't really care if you think of her as a girl or a boy."

"Her favorite color is purple, she likes American music, and has a wide variety of anime's. Horror, romance, comedy. A combination of all three. Her favorite Japanese movie is Death Note, her favorite American movie is Spider Man, and her favorite British anything is Doctor Who. In her room, on her bed, there's a pillow that her grandmother made her that has the TARDIS on it."

"Are you showing off?"

"No. I'm simply telling you about Haruhi. From the looks of things, you hardly know her at all."

Tamaki looked at me, shocked. He knew I was right, but from the looks of it, he didn't want me to be. "We have to get better at this, Tamaki." I said quietly, "We need to talk about us. Not Haruhi." I sighed deeply, "We'll start tomorrow, I guess. See you then."

I walked towards the door, feeling the unusual sensation of un-accomplishment. How was this ever going to work. Tamaki had no idea what socialization was or how to initiate it. Well, I knew why. As a kid he didn't have many friends, and now he just romances girls. I'm not sure he knows much else. "Demiya, please don't be upset." he put a hand on my wrist, "It's something I never learned as a child." See? "You can teach me if you like. But I would like to know who I'm marrying. My father said he was fascinated, so I would like to see what he was fascinated with."

I turned, looking at him. He was pulling the host thing, but I let it slip this time. I guess I would have to live with it. It was in his natural instinct, I suppose. I sighed. "Alright. We'll try."

~!~!~!~!~!~

Tamaki likes the color red. His favorite movie is Seven Samurai. His favorite band is actually Korean. Super Junior? Yeah, them. His favorite food is Ebi Sushi. In the time he isn't thinking about the host club, he practices piano and he paints. He paints. You would never expect that of a boy like Tamaki.

I left Music Room #3, smiling almost. I held my bag by it's top handle as i skipped down the stairs, slipping it only my arm as I rounded the corner. I was stopped in my tracks by a couple a few meters away. The boys was leaning over her, using his arm as support against the wall. She was standing under him, practically, holding her hands behind her back, laughing at something the boy said.

I quickly ducked behind the corner again, not wanting to ruin their intimate moment, but I peaked around the corner to watch, unable to hold myself back. It was obvious they liked each other. The way they looked right into each others eyes. Her face turned deep red at something he said and she turned her head to hide her blush. He smiled softly, looking down at her.

She turned back to him, smiling. She started to say something, but she was cut off my him kissing her. I gasped. She quickly got into it, wrapping her arms around her neck.

However romantic it was, I had to look away. It wasn't my romance. My boyfriend. I could never have that now. I'm engaged. Of course to the one and only Tamaki Suoh, but you never know. When I looked back, they were still at it. A light, sweet, but long kiss. I sighed. The only kiss I ever had was like... three seconds long, and I was being stupid.

When I turned, around, I just turned my body, imagining what a real kiss would be like. When I turned my head... no one was there. For a moment, I could have sworn someone was there, waiting to put me in the same situation as the couple around the corner.

Yet, here I am, staring into the distance, only wishing for things like that. Marriage isn't about love, I guess. Not in the world of rich people, anyway. It was all one big race. Get these rich people married, or at least engaged so the money can be already mutual and promised, so you can plan on the next five to seven years while the kids grow up and get married. From the looks of it, I've won, or at least almost there, but I just don't feel like winning in a game I never intended on playing in the first place. "So, how did it go?" he leaned against the wall next to me.

"Alright, I guess. I have a feeling Tamaki and I will be friends. Not lovers... just friends."

~!~!~!~!~!~

The next day, the host club and all of it's guests went down to the courtyard to play hide-and-go-seek-kick-the can. I was studying in the courtyard when they filed out into the courtyard. Kyoya saw me and automatically went in the opposite direction. I sighed, watching him go, balancing my book in my knees.

Once he joined the group, I continued to read. Then, I remembered my paper he helped right. A+. I pulled it from my bag and looked at the gold pen mark that said my grade. After looking at it for a moment, I pulled out my notebook and a pen. I wrote on a blank page:

"I want to thank you for all your help. I got an A+. I don' know if you still care any, but I thought you'd just like to know."

"DEMIYA!" I heard his voice from across the courtyard, "COME PLAY WITH US!" I look up. Tamaki and Haruhi were waving to me, Kyoya had his back turned.

After a moment, I signaled "One second" and started packing up my back pack. I slipped the note in as well. I guess it didn't really matter what he thought. Not anymore. So, bag packed, I ran across the courtyard to the group, ready to play. "I will be it." Tamaki announced.

So, once he kicked the can, I turned and bolted. However, I didn't really know where to hide. So, I went to the fountain. The big one with a few koi and that little boy who seems to be peeing into the pond. I always get a kick out of this one.

Since it was on the entirely other side of the courtyard, I didn't expect for him to find me right away. So, with that in mind, I slipped off my foot wear and let my toes and the bottoms of my feet touch the water. Ahhh, temporary distraction. The cold slowly turning my feet to ice. Distraction never felt so good. "Mind if I join you?" I heard Haruhi ask. I jumped and looked behind me. She was pulling off her shoes and socks already, so I shoo my head. "I missed you today. And yesterday." she said, sitting next to me.

"I know, and I'm sorry. It's just... complicated."

"Care to tell?"

"I guess... so, I chose Kyoya." I turned to her, "And it turns out we like each other after spending time together. Now," I trailed off.

"You're engaged to Tamaki. Kyoya knows. It's awkward."

"How did you know-"

"Tamaki called me when he found out." Haruhi looked into the water, "And everyone can tell Kyoya is upset about something."

"I'm so sorry..." I sighed, "There's nothing I can do about it. I argued with my dad for hours last night."

"So you don't like Tamaki sempai?"

"I like him, don't get me wrong, I just don't want to get married. I mean, I'm only sixteen. I want to date, kiss a boy, be a teenager. I can't do that, now."

"Do you think you'll be happy?" Haruhi asked.

"I don't know. I might. I could grow to love him eventually, I guess, but we established that we're just friends. I have a different point of interest. He does, too, but he's so oblivious to it."

"You mean you know who he feels so strongly about?"

"I'm picking it up who he likes. I'm not going to say until I'm absolutely certain."

Haruhi and I sat there for a few minutes in silence before Tamaki found us.

~!~!~!~!~!~

Tamaki and I met up every day after host club, talking about nonsense. It was fun. He learned to break character and be himself around me. We talked, drank coffee, and played the writing game.

It's acually very fun. We take turns picking a topic and we have ten minutes to write as far as we can. We play it all the time, and he's actually really good at it. So, it has become our favorite game.

I don't visit the host club during hours. I saw Kyoya during class enough. I would stare at him, and I could tell that it was everything in his power not to look back at me.

"Demiya," Tamaki said as we wrote, our hands and pens floating over the page, "I think I could be okay married to you." I looked up, looking at the other side of the couch. We were both sitting against the armrests of the couch, legs in a tangled mess in the middle.

"What?"

"I could be okay married to you." he smiled, "Well, you know, as a friend."

"I suppose it couldn't be that bad." I grinned, "Well, you know, as a friend."

"Demi," Tamaki set his notepad down and moved mine out of the way, and I sat up and moved closer to him. He took my hands and looked right into my eyes, "You are a very bright, intelligent and fun girl." he slid a finger under my chin, and my face grew hot, "Though you are my friend, I am glad it's you who I'm marrying."

With that, he leaned in to kiss me. To kiss me. To KISS me. Was this going to be it? Oh, it was. I sensed him getting closer through my closing eyes. I felt his breath on my lips, and then I stopped him. "I don't think I'm ready, Tamaki."

"Why?" he asked.

"I just... don't think we're ready for this yet. We're just friends, Tamaki."

"If you're just going to keep waiting for him, then we're never going to kiss, Demi." he said calmly.

"What-" I started to speak.

"We all know you love him, Demi." Tamaki cut me off, "It's no mystery. The way you avoid each other like a cat avoids the rain."

"He doesn't like me." I told myself out loud. I had to get rid of him somehow. Giving him a bad reputation in my mind would hopefully make me love him less, but who knows how that will turn out.

"You haven't seen the way he looks at you." Tamaki said, "The way he talked about you changed overnight, I kid you not. He and Haruhi were talking scarcely through out the day one day, and the next he was asking about you a lot. It may not seem that crazy and out there, but for someone who's known him for a long time, it was obvious to me that he liked you."

"Kyoya? Are you sure-"

"We're talking about the same person?" he cut me off again, "I assure you we are. I know him, Demi. I know Kyoya better then anyone else in the club. I know when something interests him."

"You mean I... interest him?"

"Don't sound so shocked." Tamaki laughed, "Even I'm not that oblivious." With that, he kissed my cheek, stood up, and left the room. I looked behind me as he left me.

I have to play dumb, for Kyoya's sake, and my sake. I don't want to. I don't want to pretend we've never kissed, even if it was stupid. I have to pretend he never hastily confessed to me in my bedroom. I have to pretend we've never had any moments. I have to pretend I hardly know him.

But... I don't want to. I like him. A lot. I'd say love, but it seems irrational. I've thought it, I know. I guess love can be real for anyone who feels it. Like, I felt like I was in love with Matsuda in the fourth grade for a week, but I was nine. Now, I'm sixteen and I think I can fall in love better and more rationally then my nine year old self.

I stood, gathering my notebook and pen from the coffee table and pulling my backpack over my shoulder. Then, my phone decided to blare out an old Jesse McCartney song. "I don't want just another pretty face, I don't want just anyone to hold, I don't want my love to go to waste, I just want you and you're beautiful soul." Remind me to change my ringtone later. Maybe some 3OH!3, Britney Spears. Yes, I am in tune to that stuff. I have YouTube. And iTunes. "Hello?" I asked into the phone, exiting Music Room #3.

"Hey, Demiya." Souta said on the other side.

"Souta! When was the last time we talked?" I asked my beloved brother.

"Oh, it was forever ago. How are you, sis?"

"Good. Well, as good as I can be. And yourself?"

"I'm doing very well. But, Demi. Our mother and father are going on another business trip, they're probably in the air now and I have off school." Oh, did I mention, my brother is still in college and being PAID for it. I guess it's the scholarship, but the college basically begged him to attend. So, he's being paid well. Just like I said in Chapter 1.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if you would like it to be like old times and make dinner with me tonight."

"We haven't made dinner together since... wow... since I was seven."

"Exactly. Besides. I want to catch up. It's sad we live in the same house and know hardly nothing of each other anymore."

"Sounds good. Meet you in the kitchen at six."

"Awesome. Love you!"

"Love you, too."

~!~!~!~!~!~

"So," Souta, my handsome brother sat across from me at our long table, but we both sat at one end, "You're engaged. To the heir of Ouran? When did this happen." he took a bite of the Italian dish I made. One of my specialties, really. Pasta.

"Fairly recently. A few weeks. Two at the most."

"Whoa. Recent."

"What did I tell you?" I asked, taking a sip of sparkling grape juice.

"Why am I not engaged?" he mused.

"I guess Mother and Father think you can get on in the world by yourself."

"And you can't? You have several schools from around the world wanting you to study with them."

"I am doomed to stay right here. Taking care of Ouran."

"Isn't being Tamaki's wife the wish of many?"

"I like Tamaki, but I'm in love with someone else."

"And who is that?" Souta took a swig of his juice.

"Kyoya Ootori." I sighed, taking a bite, "So, how's school."

"Good. Very good. And there's a girl. Gorgeous creature." my brother smiled, "She's American. Honey-colored hair, and these dark blue eyes..."

"I'm good you're looking high."

"It's too bad I'm exchanging."

"What?"

"I've been looking around Japan, Korea, and China for another school. This one is slathering me, and it's getting annoying. So, I'll be leaving her, and I can't bear that."

"Ask her go with you. Are you friends?"

"Yes, pretty close."

"Then ask her if she'd like to change schools with you." I stated, and he shrugged.

"I don't know what she'll say."

"I'll talk to her if you want. What's her name?"

"Her name is Jacqueline."

"Jacqueline." the name floated over my tongue.

~!~!~!~!~!~

Souta was looking through some old files that night, stuff that he did when he was little, walking down memory lane. Demiya was upstairs, doing homework or talking to Haruhi. He thought it was nice that they reconnected, and he was shocked that Haruhi managed to get into Ouran as an honor student. How unusual.

Anyway, he was looking through official documents as well. Medical records, high school application test results, acceptance letters from colleges, and then he came across his birth certificate.

Name, bate of birth, mother, father- wait. The 'father' line was blank. His eyebrows scrunched. He looked at his medical records. His mothers name for all of them, no sign of Matthew's name anywhere on them. Any of his savings-letters for the bank said his mothers name before his own, not his fathers.

Now that he thought about it, he looked more like his mother and Demiya looked like her father. He looked way different then his father, and Matthew treated him differently then Demiya. He always seemed to take care of Demiya more then him. Sure, his father loved him, he could tell, but he looked at Demiya differently. Not in a creepy way AT ALL.

Souta looked down at the papers in his hands, and then at himself in the reflection in the glass of the cabinet. That's when it hit him, and he felt he knew this his entire life, just never acknowledged it. His father wasn't his real father. He was either a love child, or mothers-affair child. Either way, he was illegitimate, and he knew it.

When he went to wish his sister goodnight, he really looked at her. She was the perfect mix of his parents. Brown eyes like his mother with just the faintest hint of green, his fathers thick hair, but black with a little bit of red. She had her fathers lips, and her mothers nose. Perfect mix. "Good night, Souta." she said, bounding over to him to give him a peck on the cheek goodnight, then turned back to the phone, "Just telling Souta Good Night, sorry." he smiled at his little sister, "Oh, Haruhi says 'Hi.'" She beamed.

"Hi, Haruhi!" he called, laughing.

Souta went up to his room and looked at himself in the mirror, searching for Matthew in his features. He looked a lot like his mother, just as people had always told him. Thick black, BLACK, hair, eyes so dark they could be black, but they're still a deep dark chocolate color. His nose was his grandmothers, he thought, from the pictures he'd seen of his deceased relative. His mouth... no one he knew of his family had his interesting shape. His cousin, Hanako, who's an artist, always said that he was especially hard to draw because of that.

When Souta looked at himself, he felt as if he didn't even know himself at all.