Note: I notice that a lot of you have me on your alerts list/favorites list. Now that's all fine. But the most disturbing thing is, you guys aren't reviewing me. I want to hear your thoughts--imput on my story would be very much appreciated. Besides that, enjoy:) ((I get kind of worked up over these things...

Translations:

Yooichi: Kunio's stuffed monkey

Doshite: Why

Dame desu: It's forbidden

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Chapter 3.

Recap:

"You two…know each other?" Haruhi asked hesitantly, noticing the intense tension between the two.

There was a span of silence. Tamaki turned, his face serious. Haruhi flinched with surprise. Tamaki-senpai was never serious.

In a grave tone, Tamaki told her, "He's my cousin."

Haruhi blinked, dumbstruck. Her eyes travelled over to the grinning blonde as a horrified look passed over her face.

My suggested 'Prince' who I danced with last night…is Tamaki-senpai's cousin?!

Story:

There was an awkward silence that hung between the three. Kunio chuckled. "What? Is it such a shock?" he asked, addressing Haruhi.

Haruhi shook her head. "No…"

"Who is he, anyway?" Kunio asked, nodding his head in Haruhi's direction.

"Why should you care?" Tamaki said through clenched teeth. Haruhi saw his hands clench into fists at his sides.

"Cousin?" asked Haruhi, frowning with confusion. "I didn't know…that you had one. When did he come to Ouran?"

"Around a week ago," said Kunio. "I suppose Tamaki kept me a secret, though?"

Tamaki muttered, "Who wouldn't?"

Haruhi tilted her head to one side, noticing Tamaki's hate. "Why do you seem…to have something against him?" she asked bluntly.

Kunio blinked at how quickly she jumped to the point.

Raising his hand, Tamaki pointed dead at his cousin. "20th of May!" he boomed in a deep, dramatic voice.

A blank look passed over Haruhi's face. "Huh?"

His grin returning, Kunio chuckled, "Ah, yes, I remember. Oka-san had taken me over to your house when you mother had fallen ill. She was meant to take care of her, since you were too young to—again." His tone dropped to a dead tone at the last word, his smiling fading, his features tightening.

Tamaki told Haruhi in a grave voice, "He stole my bear, Haruhi. For two days."

"…Eh?" His…bear? Is that really something…to have a grudge over…?

"It's just a stuffed animal, cuz," said Kunio, waving his hand absently. "Get over it already."

"Never!" Tamaki declared, stamping his foot to demonstrate his point. "I declare a re-match! I will fly over to France NOW and go to your house, and rob you of your STUFFED MONKEY."

Kunio's eye twitched. "Don't. You dare. Steal Yooichi," he growled.

Haruhi simply stared.

"I will!" Tamaki declared, throwing his head back, letting loose a sound of maniacal laughter. "I'll book a plane right now." He reached into his blazer pocket, slowing drawing out his phone, giving Kunio a victorious smile as he did.

Kunio grinned, sticking his hands in his pockets and looking casual once again. "As if your father will let you. You're banned from France until further notice."
Now it was Tamaki's turn to twitch. "I have my ways…of making your monkey suffer," he whispered dangerously.

Kunio snorted, turning and throwing his hands in the air. "You're assuming I care about that stupid monkey!" He turned his head, a dangerous smirk glinting his face. "Besides, stealing your bear and watching you bawl your little eyes out for a whole two days was beyond worth it."

The King of the Host Club took that to a deep, wounded heart. "If you dare—!"

"But I don't have time for this," sighed Kunio, faking a yawn. "I'm late as it is for dinner…with your father, actually, Tamaki." He was about to turn, when he stopped. "You know, it's interesting to me. Despite the fact that he's YOUR father…he's paying more attention to me than he ever did to you." Shrugging, as Tamaki scowl deepened, he turned on his heel and walked down the hall.

"Nice to meet you…Haruhi Fujioka," Kunio added with a chuckle as he rounded a corner.

Haruhi stared at where he disappeared. "He knows my name?"

Tamaki stood rigidly, stung by his words. He was silent for a moment. "Let me…KILL HIM!" he shouted, taking a lunge for his retreating cousin.

"Ah! No, senpai, calm down!" Haruhi pleaded, grabbing his blazer as he attempted to sprint. "No good will come of it if you hurt him!"

"Hurt him?! I want to murder him, in front of all the witnesses I can find! The King will have his bloodshed!" Tamaki declared, swatting Haruhi's arm away. So great was the force, that she stumbled off her feet and fell to the ground.

"Ow…" she muttered, rubbing her side.

Tamaki gasped. "Haruhi!" he cried, spinning around, his declarations of war ceasing. "Haruhi, gomen, gomen! I didn't mean…" He bent down beside her, a worried frown creasing his face. "Are you all right?"

Haruhi nodded, climbing to her knees. "You never told anyone…that you have a cousin," she said slowly, her eyes lifting to meet his.

He sighed, looking away. "I do," he admitted. "Only one; that I know of. His mother, my aunt, always used to look after me and my mother when she got sick. He's my age…a year above you. And…although we were well-off in money, his mother and him were…poorer."

Haruhi tilted her head to one side, frowning. "Doshite—?"

"Haruhi," said Tamaki forcefully, grabbing her arms and staring with an intense gaze into her brown eyes. "I need you to promise me something."

She nodded hesitantly. "What…is it?"

"You are forbidden to speak with him. Hang around with him. Do anything that involves interacting with him. Dame desu!"

Quickly jerking her head up and down, Haruhi replied, "Hai, hai…"

"No! You must promise faithfully!" He helped her to her feet, bending over to look into her eyes. "Kunio is not a good person. He was…brought up with strange ways. He's not right in the head. He could hurt you, if he wanted to. There's a reason why I kept his presence here a secret from the Host Club. Do you understand?"

"I…understand."

Tamaki nodded sharply, straightening. "Good."

"…but I'll still have a conversation with him, if he talks to me…"

Tamaki went white, hearing her words. "Haruhi!…" he choked, his eyes filling with tears. "HARUHI DOESN'T LISTEN TO MEE!" he wailed, retreating to a dark corner, hunching over.

"Senpai…" Haruhi sighed, massaging her sore temples.

"Tama-chan!" The door of the music open, and Hunny came skipping out, Mori close behind him, his face buried inside a book. "Someone's requested you. Tama-chan!"

"This is when I leave," Haruhi announced, turning to go before Hunny spotted her and pulled her into the music room again.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. Sighing, she turned, to meet eyes with Tamaki. A worried look was on his face. "Don't go near him if you can help it," he said. "Please?"

Haruhi nodded slowly, not completely certain how the sudden seriousness in Tamaki came about. "I won't…" She turned and walked down the hall, notebook clutched in her hand, confusion spinning her mind.

Tamaki paused before walking back into the music room, staring at her retreating figure. Finally, he turned himself, walking back to the rest of the Host Club. "That's why I kept him a secret," he murmured to himself.

"To prevent him…from meeting Haruhi…"

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That night, at the Fujioka residence…

Clap.

Haruhi tossed fitfully in her sleep as the thunderstorm outside her house roared on. The trees scraped against the window. The wind's howling reached her ears, mingling with the terrifying sound of the thunderstorm.

Inside her mind, an upsetting dream stirred…

She's dancing with the masked Prince again. Although she hears the thunderstorm, it is simply the soft clashing of cymbals as the orchestra's sound swells in her ears. She wears this time a dress that is long, flowing, and much more magnificent than the original that she wore at the masquerade. Her hair is truly long, and is tied into a sleek bun, with a small curl hanging down her neck. A tiara is stuck in her short fringe, suggesting that she is royalty.

Her masked prince smiles at her, kind and caring as he guides her through the dance. They glide. A soft solo is delicately bowed on the cello in the orchestra as a warm feeling stirs inside her. She is protected. Never happier.

Clap.

Her dream instantly turns to black as the thunderstorm reaches her ears at full force. The once blue sky over her head is grey, and dark clouds loom overhead, lightning buzzing inside them. She screams and covers her ears, eyes squeezed shut.

"Keep dancing with me," a smooth voice beckons.

She opens one eye. It's her prince, still holding out his hand to her. His expression is hard to tell because of the pointed black mask on his face. She doesn't want to dance; but is pulled forcefully into the steps once again by him, the dance complicated and more confusing than she remembered. The kind smile that was once on the prince's face is replaced by a cold and calculating air, a smirk now tugging at his lips.

Haruhi tilts her head to one side, confused. Is this really…?

Clap.

The thunder reaches her ears once again. She cries out and closes her eyes. When she opens them again, the mask is off her prince. But it's not her prince, not anymore. It's Kyoya, chuckling at her, his arms crossed over his chest.

She stares at him, dumbstruck. Kyoya-senpai…is the prince I danced with?!

Before she can think, two hands grab either one of her small wrists. One man takes her into his grasp, and they dance simple steps once more. She looks up into the orange-masked face of the man, frowning. His steps are just as clumsy as hers. Then she's thrust into another man's arms. It feels like the same person, except this man is more cool and composed. She feels safer inside his dancer's frame.

And so she's pushed, man to man, both the same ones as before, until her head is spinning from confusion.

Clap.

Crying out in fear, she covers her ears in a desperate attempt to block out the noise. She peeks open an eye. The masks had come off both of the young men while her eyes were shut, and she sees Hikaru and Kaoru smiling down at her sympathetically.

She blinks. Hikaru or Kaoru…one of them danced with me? But…how…?

Someone taps her shoulder. Her eyes travel up, up, until she meets the black-masked face of a tall, dark man, his mouth in a taunt line. He takes her hands gently in his and they dance, all the time Haruhi in awe at how protective he was in his steps. He always looks out that she's dancing correctly, and if she does a wrong step, he makes up for it. She thinks that he's exactly like who she did dance with at the masquerade…except…not as kind. His manner is colder…

Clap.

Haruhi yelps. She hunches over, covering her ears, whimpering in fear. She feels the man pat her on the head, comfortingly. She frowns, and looks up, seeing his mask off.

Mori-senpai? He's…my prince that I danced with at the masquerade?

Someone takes her hand before she can think. Twirls her around. Mori blurs out and leaves her vision. With wide eyes, she gazes upon a blonde masked man. He gives her a small smile as they begin the dance once more.

This has to be Tamaki-senpai, she thinks to herself. The dance they perform is a waltz, calmer than the dances beforehand. Rain begins to pour, weighing down Haruhi's long locks and sagging the man's blonde hair. She blinks through the rain pouring down her face, squinting to see when the man's mask came off. She wants to see.

Clap.

She shivers in fear, but doesn't close her eyes. Instead, she forces them to keep pried open. She wants to see if it's really Tamaki behind the mask. She wants to be proven…that he's truly…her prince.

The man lets go of her hands. Reaches a hand behind his head to untie his mask. The white-clothed thing falls to the wet ground, revealing his face. Forking back his blonde hair, her Prince grins a familiar grin as the sweet smell of pine trees reach her nose. "Well, well," Kunio chuckles. "If it isn't Haruhi Fujioka."

She stood, paralysed. I-I…danced with….Kunio-senpai?!

Cla—SMASH.

With a scream, Haruhi woke, sitting up in her bed in a flash. A smash had overlapped the sound of the thunder, jolting her awake.

She sat in her bed, frozen with fear, as she heard someone clambering around in the hall. A murderer?! she though in terror, her imagination going wild.

Then she heard Ryoji, muttering incoherently as he stumbled past Haruhi's room, recognizing his slurred, drunken language that never made any sense. She sighed, relaxing, and burrowed herself under the covers, bracing herself for the next clap of thunder.

She shuddered, remembering her bizarre dream.

Why…Tamaki's cousin? Why not…Tamaki?

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I loved writing Haruhi's dream. It was so inspiring. –hugs scene-

Please tell me all your thoughts! I THRIVE off thoughts, for goodness sakes. Next chapter shall come soon! ;)

And, as always, thank you for reading.

-KuroHinote