Author's Note: Its kind of sad, this was a kind of afterthought in my fanfiction career, and yet I'm getting more reviews by the chapter than on my Naruto masterpiece. Then again, it seems that the things I write just for the heck of it are always more popular than the things I put any real work into. I guess its just me. So many people have asked for Mori to at least recognize Haruhi, but the story kind of hinged on nobody recognizing her, because by the end the point is that Tamaki is totally desperate and the climax is him putting the pieces together. Originally I made this story with John Tucker Must Die in mind (if you've never seen it, I highly recommend it, its hysterical)as well as Enough, kind of a revenge fic for Haruhi I suppose. But then I realized that, despite the somewhat sinister undertones, Ouran is just pure fluff and fan service really, and as much as I wanted to make the Host Club suffer for being, well, a bunch of rick jerks, I realized that the point of the story is that its important for Tamaki to figure out who she is by seeing through the disguise (whichever outfit you think the disguise is) because he sees her, not just how she looks. The other hosts, being his friends, want what's best for him, and would kind of realize that too. So . . . well, you'll see how it goes. Also, I apologize, Mori is very chatty in this chapter, even though that's so far OOC for Mr. One Line An Episode. Still, if its just him and Haruhi . . .

Chapter 5: Mori

"So how did it go with Mitsukai-san?"

The day after the grand meeting the entire Host Club, Haruhi included, was gathered in the music room, having reconvened to discuss strategy. Tamaki and Kyoya were seated at the low table, ironically the same one they'd used yesterday, which had been, again without Haruhi noticing, placed back in the center of the room. Hikaru and Kaoru were standing by the window, and Mori and Honey were sitting at a smaller table off to one side, Honey of course eating cake.

"It was . . ." Hikaru paused.

"Different than we expected," Kaoru finished, exchanging a frustrated and slightly confused look with his twin. Part of Haruhi wasn't sure whether to feel pleased or disgusted that the hosts were apparently still scratching their heads over how to think of her.

Tamaki slammed his hand down onto the table. "This is serious!" he yelled, "we need to come up with a plan! In just a few days, Mori-senpai will be making the first attempt at discovering our beloved Mitsukai's name!"

"Our beloved Mitsukai?" Haruhi repeated, somewhat incredulously.

It alarmed her that Tamaki now only made her somewhat incredulous.

"Yes!" Tamaki cried in exasperation, "I know you don't care Haruhi, but to the rest of us this is important! We only have a limited amount of time before this mysterious Cinderella disappears from our lives completely! We have to take this opportunity seriously!"

Haruhi frowned. "Who said I don't care?" she snapped, "I'm starting to regret not going to meet her with you, is she really something to make all this fuss over?"

"I'm sorry Haruhi," Kyoya spoke up suddenly, startling her a bit, "we didn't arrange a date for you, we only have five weeks after all . . ."

"Five weeks!" Tamaki lamented loudly, sinking down in his chair, "Five weeks before I can see my heavenly angel again!"

"But you can still see her at the party." Kyoya finished, as though Tamaki hadn't spoken. "In the mean time, try to pay close attention to your guests. She's new to our club, which may be just because she's a first year, but it also might have something to do with us getting a new host. She may well be one of your guests Haruhi."

He looked up at her, peering at her sideways through one lens of his glasses. "Try to take notice of any plans they mention. If maybe one of them has a date this Saturday, or talks about how her weekends between now and the party we're hosting are all booked up. Let us know if you hear anything."

"Sure," Haruhi agreed, then looked back at Tamaki. "Are you ok, Tamaki-senpai?"

"He's just depressed 'cuz he doesn't have a date," Hikaru snickered.

"Don't be sad Tama-chan," Honey admonished from across the room, looking at Tamaki worriedly, "Mitsukai-chan will be at the party, you can see her then!"

"She'll only come to the party if we guess her name," Kaoru reminded him, "if we don't we have to do something she wants."

Tamaki moaned and sank lower in his chair.

"Well if she has you do something you'll probably have to be there to do it," Haruhi pointed out, trying to sound cheerful as she leaned over Tamaki's chair, "so you'll probably get to see her one more time anyway."

"You don't understand!" Tamaki cried, leaping out of his chair. Before Haruhi could stop him he darted around the piece of furniture separating them and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her in close to him as he shook her. "I can't just wait five weeks to see her again! I'll die without my princess, waste away to a withered shell of a prince! I can't simply go back to normal after having played the piano for an angel!"

Haruhi's heart hammered. Tamaki was holding her in exactly the same way he had at the gazebo. He gripped her firmly by her upper arms, his chest pressed against hers almost intimately. He was looking down at her face, looking deeply into her eyes just as he had before. Haruhi prayed that her luck would hold out, that he wouldn't recognize the resemblance, but even as she watched he paused, his expression changing. His eyes widened and his mouth went slack, and the bottom of Haruhi's stomach dropped out to join her dashed hopes on the floor.

Here it comes, she thought, clenching her jaw and closing her eyes tightly against the inevitable, he's going to expose me. It's all over. He's going to . . .

"No, not an angel . . ." Tamaki whispered pensively, staring off into space as he released Haruhi's shoulders and turned away. Haruhi's eyes sprang open, staring at him in shocked disbelief.

"A goddess!" Tamaki exclaimed, his face shining with jubilant euphoria. "It all makes perfect sense! I, myself being a love god, have at last attracted a love goddess to be my Host Club Queen and consort!"

"Then what's with her trying to avoid you like the plague?" Hikaru asked flatly.

Haruhi gave a long-suffering sigh and sank down into Tamaki's newly vacated chair as he burst into tears.

-That Saturday-

Haruhi needed a new dress.

Honestly, she'd been wearing the white one too long, one more time and the hosts would start getting suspicious that maybe it was the only one she owned. Most, well, all of the girls at Ouran were rich, so if Mitsukai apparently wasn't it would be a pretty good tip off that they needed to start looking in the, much smaller, pool of not-so-rich students. Of course it hadn't exactly been hard to get a new dress. She barely had to mention that she had a date to her father before he was ransacking his own closet, as well as the back corners of hers where she kept the dresses he bought her but never wore, in search of the perfect outfit. In the end she found herself standing out in front of the school in a long sleeve purple shirt under a mildly ruffled pink spaghetti strap dress that stopped at mid calf, with two fake pigtails sticking out of either side of her head.

Haruhi checked her watch. As much as she hated to admit it, and as much as the rational part of her brain was telling her this was a monumentally bad idea, this was actually developing into a somewhat conceivable plan. If she survived five dates and five more weeks at the Host Club without being found out, then Kyoya had promised that the hosts would do anything she wanted. Anything, he said, and that included letting her out of her debt. Hell, she didn't even have to say it was hers, just tell them to let Haruhi off the hook and then never wear a skirt again until she was out of college, letting Mitsukai just simply disappear.

It wouldn't exactly be unlike her.

Mori's limo pulled up beside her, making her step back from the curb slightly in apprehension. The door in the back opened, to reveal Mori sitting alone in dress pants and an un-tucked shirt. Haruhi blinked. It was strange, seeing him without Honey. She'd half expected him to bring the smaller boy along, but when he stepped out of the car and indicated that she should get in no smiling blond head assaulted her as she crouched down and crawled onto the comfortable leather seats. Mori climbed in beside her, closed the door and motioned to the driver.

Here we go.

"So, where are we going?" Haruhi asked conversationally, trying to keep her voice light.

Mori regarded her carefully for a minute, then . . .

"I know you're Haruhi Fujioka."

Well that didn't take long.

Haruhi gaped at him, head reeling. A million questions flooded through her mind as she struggled to understand Mori's words. Was he serious? What did this mean? How had he found out? Had he just guessed? Did the other hosts know? Were they just messing with her? Why would . . .

"I'm the only one who knows," he continued, as though he'd read her mind.

Haruhi swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. "Ok," she said in a shaky voice, "so . . . what now?"

Mori looked away. For a few moments he made no reply, and Haruhi began to wonder if he'd heard her. Then . . .

"Tamaki backed you into that vase," he said, turning back to her. "We all saw it, but it was easier, in truth more amusing, to take advantage of you."

Mori bowed his head. "That was wrong of us."

"Um," Haruhi said intelligently. Her skin was prickling with the aftermath of adrenaline, and her mouth was dry as she tried to understand what Mori was leading up to.

"I am the only one who knows," he continued, "and unless you want me to, I will not tell the others."

"Why . . . why not?" Haruhi managed, still trying to comprehend his motive.

Mori turned away again. "Mitskuni will tell," he said simply, not looking at her but appearing to gaze contemplatively out the window. "The twins will use it for a prank. Kyoya will exploit you. And Tamaki . . . he really should figure it out for himself."

Faintly it occurred to her that she had no idea what that last bit meant, but that seemed incredibly unimportant at the moment.

"So you'll . . . you'll let me, win this thing? Get out of my debt?" she asked hesitantly.

Mori nodded.

Haruhi stared at him for a moment. It suddenly dawned on her that he, for all his silence and intimidating demeanor, was actually the most gentlemanly host of all. He never forced emotion or faked sincerity, and he never lead a girl on. He had never once said or done anything that made her feel remotely uncomfortable, and he'd never asked her to do anything she didn't want to. He was always the most ready to protect someone, and even on her first day she had, without realizing it, called on him to save her from Tamaki.

Haruhi smiled, and Mori's lips twitched upward as well.

"Thank you," she said simply, and he nodded his understanding.

Suddenly she felt the car glide to a stop. Looking out the window she saw that they had pulled up in front of a dance studio.

"I thought, if you felt like going to the party, you might want to know how to dance," he explained.

Haruhi laughed slightly, and together they climbed out of the car and hurried inside.

Author's Note: Mori really is the most . . . genuine host, isn't he? While Tamaki is honest in all his compliments, he does lead a girl on, but Mori sort of lets people draw their own conclusions and only intervenes when necessary. And of course no one gets hurt on his watch. Ever. When I was watching the show I never really noticed, but the more fanfiction and fanart I see, the more I realize what a great human being he is. This story is still tamaharu, but Mori is such a good friend, no?