Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club or any of the characters featured in the manga and anime. They are all proprty of Bisco Hatori.

Haruhi walked home in a daze, holding her ripped shirt closed over her tank top. Her big, chocolate brown eyes were dull and fearful. She flinched at the smallest sounds and cowered from threatening shadows.

Tamaki had untied her only half an hour ago. He'd offered to get one of his chauffeurs to drive her home but she'd refused and left straight away after getting dressed. She couldn't believe how casual he'd been, as if nothing had happened, as if he'd never raped her.

Haruhi entered her apartment just as the sun rose and went immediately to have a shower. She undressed and stepped in, flinching when the cold water pelted her. She fiddled with the knobs and was satisfied when near-boiling water cascaded from the shower-head.

She huddled in the corner of the shower and scrubbed and scrubbed her skin until it looked red and raw. She watched traces of blood run from her body and go down the drain and was assaulted by the horrible memories. She shivered despite the hot water pelting her small body.

How was she supposed to face him on Monday?

What did she do?

And if she told, who would believe her? This was Tamaki who had done this and he was loved by everyone at that school. He was everything there and she was nothing. She wasn't rich or powerful or anything at all like Tamaki. Besides, everyone outside the host club still thought she was a boy.

There was no way she could tell.

Haruhi shook her head and leant her head on the tiles. She couldn't concentrate enough to think about what to do yet. She would decide what to do when she was calmer.

She turned the water off and got out of the shower, grabbing a towel from the towel-rack and wrapping it around herself.

She still didn't feel clean and panic began to build inside her.

Everything that had happened hit in one hard strike and she stumbled to her room and collapsed on the bed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Why?" she cried. "Why did you do this to me?" Her tears eventually began to abate and she stumbled to her feet and pulled on her comfiest pajamas, dropping the towel on the floor, for the moment uncaring of something so trivial. She flung herself under the bedcovers and succumbed to exhaustion.

Two hours after Haruhi fell asleep, Ryoji a.k.a Ranka Fujioka entered the apartment, yawning hugely. He had been at work since three in the afternoon the day before and apart from a few quick naps, hadn't slept at all.

He frowned when he saw how lifeless and heard how silent his home was.

Where was Haruhi?

Based on previous experience with his daughter after he had such a long shift, he'd expected her to be waiting for him at the table with his breakfast already made for him.

He went to the kitchen and checked the fridge for a note from his daughter. If she went out and she wasn't able to tell him in person, she always left a note so he wouldn't worry. Finding none, he walked to her bedroom, inched the door open and peeked inside. He saw her lying on her stomach, fast asleep.

He watched his daughter for a few moments, a soft smile on his face.

He loved her so much. She was all he had left and he cherished the fact that he had her as a daughter. She was the best anyone could hope to have and he was very proud of his little girl.

Haruhi shifted and turned her head, her eyes slowly beginning to open.

"Hey, Dad," Haruhi whispered when she saw her father standing in the doorway of her bedroom. "Did you just get home from work?"

"Oh, hello, dear. Yes, I only just got home. Why are you still in bed though? I expected you to be up by this time. Normally you're an early riser. Don't you feel well?"

She snatched onto that explanation and faked a cough, although truthfully it was partially true. She did feel horrible. "No, Dad, I don't feel well. I think I'm sick. If anyone from the host club calls, please tell them I'm too sick to hang out with them this weekend but I'll see them at school on Monday."

"What about that idiot Tamaki? After all, he's your…boyfriend," Ranka grumbled, a low snarl emitting from his chest.

At the sound of his name, Haruhi flinched slightly. Her father didn't seem to notice so she said calmly, "Uh, the same goes with him. T-tam-he and I broke up. It just happened yesterday and if he calls or tries to see me, it could be awkward. We need this weekend to get over the end of our relationship." She smiled brightly at her father, who couldn't contain his joy at the news and who also didn't notice how fake her smile was.

"Oh, really? That's such a shame," he said in a tone of voice that made the words a blatant lie.

"It's all right, Dad. I know you never liked him." And it turns out you were right not to. "So can you do that for me?"

"Of course. You just rest. I'll bring you in some water and medicine." He turned and was already marching to the kitchen when he heard Haruhi calling out to him.

"I've already had some medicine, Dad, but I would like some water."

Ranka jumped at the chance to look after his daughter and raced to do as she asked. Haruhi watched him with a tolerant smile on her face and, pulling the covers over her body, went back to sleep, praying that she wouldn't dream of what had happened.

When Ranka skipped into the room a few minutes later, he found Haruhi curled up under the covers in a little ball, fast asleep and breathing steadily.

He tiptoed out of the room and closed the door with a paternal smile creasing his lips.

He yawned and headed to his room to sleep for a few hours.

Hello everyone. Thank you for all the reviews. I'm glad people like my story. This chapter is a bit short - sorry.