Chapter 12

What It Means to Stand

(Be wary of cussing)

For the rest of the day and into the late night, Akane shifted her fingers up and down the bow, only to hear it drop to the floor once she began sprinting too quickly. How was she supposed to beat that speed demon kid if she kept dropping her bow? Flinging herself onto her bed, she held the bow high above her face, the dark wood contrasting her off white ceiling. Holding the frog (base) of the bow, she slowly moved her fingers up, attempting to mimic the spider leg like pattern Paul had used. Keeping a constant pace, she finally reached the bottom without the bow falling out of her hands. Smiling contently, she did it once more, this time increasing the speed a little bit.

Before she knew it, dawn had broken through her open windows, though she couldn't feel the breeze underneath her feather comforter. Grinning ecstatically, she saw her mom had put her to bed once she had dozed off, tenderly placing the bow on her bed table and loosening it so the bow hairs would not stretch. It was still early, for the sun was just peaking out from the nestled blanket of Paris skyline. Absentmindedly, Akane twiddled the bow between her fingers, letting them slide up and down. Out of habit, her fingers began to mimic the crawling pattern, effortlessly gliding up and down the bow, barely touching the wood.

"Holy shnikes…" Akane leapt onto her bed, starring agape at her bow. Checking to make sure it wasn't a dream, she repeated the motion over and over again, her graceful fingers dancing over the wood. No one ever expects to become better over night, but somehow the violin gods had smiled on her for this one instance, and she quietly thanked them as she hastily dressed and leapt out the door.

*--*--*

"You begin on my mark," Leonce commanded, eyes shifting warily to each of the competitors. Paul stood smug in his ready position, believing this to be another cocky amateur. Akane paid to no attention to the confidence of her adversary though, only concentrating on her fingers which rolled over and over on the bow.

"Go!"

Both hands shot off like lightning, the intricate steps flying across the bow. Paul knew he was on today, heavy confidence in his ability and training and letting his practice guide him. Triumphantly, he reached the bottom and let his gaze quickly slide to Leonce for immediate approval. But the teacher's wide, bulging eyes had manifested themselves from beneath his shaggy hair to stare wildly at Akane.

"Akane won…Who would've though it," Leonce gaped, while Akane's face instantly swept into unadulterated joy, jumping into the air with a triumphant 'YES!' . Paul stared with equal shock covering his face, acting as if a bomb had exploded in his head and his brain had died due to the stood from his chair, resting a colossal hand upon Akane's shoulder.

"Well, Mademoiselle Grantaine, shall we begin then?" Leonce finally smiled.

Over the next few months, Akane devoted her entire self to Leonce's violin training hell. Before school, during the lunch break, after school, and into the night Akane worked without fail, learning more in one day than she had in nearly a year. Paul trained beside her, since Paul had been Leonce's first disciple. After Akane had coerced the boy to fess up (only after beating him in a 'who can hold the tremolo the longest' contest) he had confessed that he lived one floor above this. The boy had slowly warmed up to her, but wanting her to understand more about him, they snuck off to his apartment, where Akane met all of his family. They played for hours with his baby sister and strolled through the hallway, where Paul introduced Akane to nearly every resident in the entire building. Never in her life had Akane felt such a strong embrace of community as this one. Not one person pointed or judged her behind her back. Instead, the neighbors welcomed her as if she was their daughter, sister, granddaughter, or their closest friend. And Akane loved them back, not realizing she had filled the gaping hole in her chest where Tamaki's blow had wounded her.

Leonce Boudreaux was a different story altogether though. His history she fought long and hard for. Paul had been sworn to secrecy early on, and there remained only one way to achieve the answer.

"Play me Paganini No. 4. It was must flawless, enough to bring someone to tears," Leone demanded, sipping lightly on a mug of cold coffee. Rifling through his hodgepodge piles of sheet music, he retrieved the piece, flung it at Akane like a Frisbee and added, "Otherwise, Paul and I will only address you as Tenderfoot for as long as you study here."

Akane, being the stubborn idiot she was, accepted, remembering how she had passed the last bet with flying colors. It took her two months of intense training to nail the piece. She practiced nothing but the one concerto and engraved every note into her mind until her fingers bled. Her fingers morphed into lithe and long tools, rough calluses covering her fingertips without yield. Her mom began walking around the house with cotton balls in her ears so she didn't have to hear the same song every night. At 3:49 am, Akane smiled to the heavens, and fell onto her bed, her fingertips numb and lifeless from the practice, though they knew they had finally and indisputably mastered it.

The chairwoman sent escorts for Akane the next morning, stealing any chance form her to call for a sick day. She was helplessly prepared elaborately that day, make up and hair taking nearly two hours. Normally, she tried to joke with the stylist in order to get her to lighten the make up, or leave a few strands of curls, but this morning was different. She sat in perfect silence, refusing to answer anything that involved more than one word. Nothing disturbed her poised state, and her normally bursting sea green eyes appeared limp, an feature no amount of highlight or eyeliner could remedy. Akane watched as her hair was straightened as flat as a dictionary page and laced with a white ribbon. Akane had never allowed any such ornament to fall onto her hair, but without argument, she strolled off as soon as it was tied in place.

School was hell. Utter hell. Of course, everyone had learned of the engagement over the weekend, and if they hadn't, the startlingly gorgeous diamond ring she wore on her finger gave them just a bit of an intimation. Though everyone thought she didn't notice as they gestured at her while she wasn't looking, and even if Akane saw, her face remained frozen, only offering small, negligible smiles that were quickly tossed aside.

"Akane! How does it feel? I mean is it weird or exciting or both? I've never been engaged, but this one friend of mine, Emiko, she said that…" Girls drabbled on and on to Kenjiro's new fiancée, never actually caring to hear her reply. Chances were she wouldn't have given one anyway. Every girl in the girl wanted to know three and only three things; how much the ring cost, when the couple would be married, and would they be first on the guest list. Nearly every male student cried and wept in silence when she walked by and Akane envied them for being able to lament so publicly.

Orchestra arrived too fast for words to describe and Kenjiro gleamed proudly as Akane slipped into the room. Attempting to live up to his new title, he chivalrously pulled her chair out for her and sat her down tenderly. Akane offered no reaction to this gesture and began monotonously unpacking her things.

"How are you, Honey?" Kenjiro asked sweetly, causing nearly every girl in the room to instantaneously swoon at the cuteness.

"Fine," Akane replied, her voice monotone and completely unreadable. Her soft white cloth wiped the already glistening wood of the violin.

"I feel fantastic today, though I didn't get any sleep last night. I couldn't stop thinking about you, walking down the aisle in white dress," Kenjiro smiled, his voice mellifluous to every pair of ears, except hers. To Akane, his voice was the equivalent of nails on a fresh chalkboard.

"Good to know," She answered, her voice lifeless and limp. Her fiancé continued attempting to sweet talk her, smothering her in compliments and enticing her with the beautiful future that awaited them. Akane left every word for dead though, immersing herself in her violin. At one point, just as the song fell, as if the swan in the piece was dying, Kashkoi-sensei stole a glance at Akane, and let the depth of his eyes, how truly sorry he was show manifest itself to her. Akane eyes gazed unwavering at his, seeming to reply that she understood, but no amount of pity would fix anything. The conductor nodded in reply, and let his baton sink, as the swan slowly, gently died on the lake's skin.

The bell rang just as the silence of the piece ended, and Akane swiftly stowed her things away and stood to her feet. Without warning, Kenjiro's strong hand caught hers, and held her back. "I have a request Akane," He said, making sure to ward off any eavesdroppers with his protective glare.

"I don't care," Akane answered, attempting to shake his hand off without bothering to glance back at him.

"It's from your grandmother."

Donned in angel wings and flowing white robe, Tamaki floated around the room, marveling at his own beauty. Mori tossed Honey into the air, letting the tiny senior fly through the pink room with Usa-chan. The twins poked Haruhi incessantly, the young girl trying to ward them off with her unattached wings. Kyouya sat at the side of the room, calculating the day's taxes with mindless ease. He had been one of the first to know of the engagement, having the chairwoman's secretary personally call him to inform him that Akane would be absent from their previous meeting. At the moment, he had no idea what he was feeling. Every time the mere thought of that idiot Kenjiro and Akane even looking at each other, he was seizeded by an ebbing pain, like a guilt that wouldn't easily dissapate. And even worse, he had absolutely no idea why.

Akane skulked into the room, her footsteps silent and svelte, though everyone instantly turned their heads to her.

"Hmm, Akane-chan? You're early today," Tamaki commented, running up to his sister questioningly.

"Aka-chan! Look, I can fly!" Honey-kun called as he sailed towards her, Akane barely catching him safely in her arms. She offered him a weak smile, causing the young boy's visage to slowly fade to concern. "Aka-chan? What's wrong?"

"I have an announcement to make," Akane stated, setting Honey in Mori's awaiting arms. Kyouya slipped into the group, pushing his glasses nonchalantly to their correct spot. On the inside though, his mind was twisting and hyperventilating. What was going on? Surely she was aware they all knew her situation? No, this was something else. Something worse.

"In order to properly prepare myself for my marriage, I will no longer be serving this Host Club. I have very much enjoyed working with all of you and hope to remain friends with you," She announced, voice quivering slightly as the last few words lingered out.

Everyone stood in awe momentarily, unsure of how to reply.

"You're kidding, right, Akane-chan?" Haruhi finally spoke, staring desperately at her only source of sanity during the trials of the Host Club. Akane could only shake her head in reply, her golden locks swishing back and forth.

"This is bullshit," Hikaru piped up, pointing accusingly at her.

"Yeah, Akane. You don't even want to marry this guy, right?" Kaoru joined in, still not accepting Akane's words. It was rare for the hosts to accept someone else into their family, and Akane had unfortunately fit right in, whether she enjoyed it or not. Tearing out one member was equal to ripping off an arm or a leg from one body, and no one was willing to let such a tragedy slide.

"I must do what will most benefit the Suou family as well as myself," She replied simply, eyes straightforward and bleak to the world around her. Her voice didn't seem to belong to her, but only consisted of pre-recorded phrases and answers. Eyes rounding to every host, she paused momentarily on Kyouya, his face more unreadable than hers. Really? The man who knew everything had absolutely nothing to say to her. Fine, she didn't want to hear it anyway.

"No, don't leave us, Aka-chan," Honey pleaded, hugging tightly around her waist. She couldn't bare to gaze down into his chocolate brown eyes and instead gently removed his tiny, strong hands from her midsection. She patted him tenderly on the head, trying her best not to gaze at the blonde boy, tears welling up into his eyes.

"Thank you, everyone," Akane bowed swiftly and shut the door behind her, a limp maid's apron left folded neatly on the floor where she had stood.

"Tamaki, bring her back! Tell her to screw the marriage thing and come back here," Hikaru demanded, the rest of the hosts nodding in reply.

Their king remained frozen, his face pale and flushed of color.

"I can't. She doesn't have a choice at the moment. I don't want to make things anymore painful for her than they already are," He answered, turning his crystal blue eyes to them, the irises filled with wisdom beyond their years that hid within their depths.

Disregarding Tamaki's words, Kyouya walked gallantly to the door and quickly exited, ignoring Tamaki's plea to come back. The third son made sure the door was shut tight behind him and hurried down the hall, following the clicks of Akane's expensive heels. The sound ceased sooner than expected, and Kyouya's mind visualized the school and narrowed her location to a few locations.

After checking every private spot or haven he could find, Kyouya hustled to the last location she would go. He peered through the open glass windows into the vast music room, a grand piano greeting his vision. His careful onyx eyes hurriedly scanned the room, narrowing in on a lone figure, violin in hand. With silence a mouse would envy, he slipped into the room and stood inaudibly in a corner.

Akane's eyes were crushed shut, refusing to open even the slightest. Bittersweet notes poured like tears of heaven from the strings, tossing the girl back and forth in their wake. Her fingers shook, whether from expert control or from raw emotion, with flawless timing and perfect intonation. As the bow pressure faded, her arm jerked suddenly and the bow leapt from the strings. Over and over it crossed and paused and flew and sank. Notes poured out with intensity and strength and as her pace increased, joyful noise jumped onto the echoing walls. Though the sound was brilliant, there was a distinct sadness to them, as if it held the notes back in place. She slowed again, continuing to dive into sections faster and harder, energy bursting from her fingertips.

Suddenly, the thinnest string snapped, though Akane didn't even flinch. Her fingers, without hesitation, slid up on the fingerboard, dashing to make up for the last string. Double stops burst from her violin, her bow pressing deeper onto the strings, until the next string snapped. Dodging, her bow danced across the last two remaining, until she forced the next one to break as well. Left with but one string, she furiously shifted and jumped and played until the piece was finished and her bow clattered to the floor.

Slowly, her eyes creaked open and seized Kyouya's.

"What the hell do you want?" She snapped, throwing what was left of the violin into her case. The boy stalked closer, eyes catching the absence of music on her stand. Her stance remained solid and defiant, attempting to push him away with her glare. Chest heaving up and down after playing, her voice easily cracked with her outburst.

"What was that piece?" He requested calmly, as if Akane hadn't just screamed her guts out at him.

"Don't screw with me, Kyouya."

"Was it Mendelssohn? Brahms? Paganini?" He questioned, still composed and nonchalant.

"Look, I don't know what you want, but please, just leave me alone," She pleaded, venom stinging her every word. Snapping her case shut, she rapidly strode away, only to feel a firm hand seize hers.

"I want my one question," He spoke, pulling her to face him completely. His onyx eyes bored into her, searching for answers within the troubled sea green.

"Paganini number 4, now leave," Akane retorted, throwing her grip away from his. His hand held like a vice on hers, refusing to let her go. She pulled again, desperately fighting the inevitable situation.

"Let me go, Ootori! God you bastard!" His grip didn't loosen for one second, unseen powerful muscles holding her unwilling hand in place. "I don't want to talk to you!"

"Is that true?" He replied, his tranquil tone boiling Akane's already adrenaline filled blood.

"God, why do you have to act like you know everything! You still don't know shit about me, even if you think you do!" Akane screamed at him; face inches away from his in fury. Like a fitting child, she thrashed her arm round, about to kick him to pull away. Her free hand curled into a fist and crushed his side, Kyouya barely flinching as it punctured him.

"Please…please just leave me alone. I just want to be alone. Please..."

"Mr. Ootori, would you kindly let go of Ms. Suou!" Mr. Kashikoi commanded, a deathly hand on the boys shoulder. Reluctant and stunned, Kyouya relinquished her delicate hand, instantly missing the feel of her racing pulse beneath his fingertips. "Now, since this room is for orchestra students only, I would highly advise you leave."

The short conductor stood more menacing than ever, pointing the heir in the direction of the door. Without choice, Kyouya strode to the door bowing to the two before leaving. Akane caught a glimpse of Kyouya she knew all to well, and she couldn't deny that he would be back again. Though she doubted her kindly teacher would be present to sweep in to save her.

"Akane-san, are you okay?" The old man asked, expression releasing a ludicrous amount of sorrow for the girl.

"Thank you, Kashikoi…-sensei," She replied, gratitude flowing onto her face. After a quick bow, Akane hurriedly packed up her things, avoiding his kind face at all costs.

"I know it may be out of place for me to speak, but would you mind listening to a old, wise man's ranting?" He spoke, tucking his wrinkling fingers behind his back. Akane continued cleaning as if the man hadn't spoken, though she heard every word.

"It is better to die standing than to live on your knees," Kashikoi said, eyes reminiscent of his words meanings. Turning to face his student, his mouth pursed into a serious thin line. "No mask is worth keeping on, Akane. I don't know your circumstances, but life is too short to let others tell you how to live yours."

Taking a seat beside her, he sighed happily, lost within the padded walls of his mind.

"I went to a school similar to Ouran when I was your age. My father owned a large electricity company, and I was the eldest son, destined to continue the business. But I couldn't," He paused, smiling contently for a moment. Akane glanced over, confused at the man's words. "I had never been meant for the cruel, cold business world. My heart had always belonged to the music. All my life, people had expected me to play the role of my father, but in the end I found myself not knowing the lines."

"What happened?" Akane questioned suddenly, defiant eyes desperate for answers. The music director grinned warmly, the gentle wrinkles of his time worn face welcoming her question.

"I took a gamble. I abandoned everything I had ever known to pursue the music. With little money that my parents provided me with out of pity, I struggled to the top. It was the hardest thing I ever did, and because of it I shall die a thankful man with no regrets. Akane, don't let the past limit your future. I see so much talent and rebellion within you, more than these weary eyes are able to bear. It would truly be a waste to loose a gift such as yours to the void that swallows nearly everyone else here."

Akane's face remained frozen, unable to answer the man. Grabbing her case, she listlessly walked out of the room, leaving a smiling teacher in her wake.

"You sure you're ready, Tenderfoot?"

"Hey, I haven't lost yet!" Akane scolded Leonce, sticking her tongue out playfully at her mentor.

Free of any disinclination, she began her task, and played Paganini as if it were her dying wish. She floated and soared, and Leonce could only gaze in awe. In truth, the first time he saw her play the concerto, he saw her talent. Every aspect that involved none to little technique was flawless, and now that he had barely taught her the basic skills, she had shattered his every expectation and pushed them to the stars. As she finished and bowed, Leonce gladly stood and applauded, holding back a single tear in his eyes.

"Bravo! Tres belle (beautiful)!" He clapped, though Akane merely smirked at him. Sighing at his thoughtless bet, Leonce led his student to the kitchen, pouring them some of his favorite Chai tea.

**---**

"You played in the London Symphony?" Akane reiterated his answered, gaping at the grizzly man's achievement.

"Second chair for a few seasons as well. Never quite made it to first. Anyway, I decided I had enough of the high brow snoots who play and decided to continue my legacy. You and Paul better become world famous, or my ghost will haunt you forever," Leonce joked, stretching his gangly arms across the tables towards a laughing Akane.

"Why'd you make your past so mysterious sounding? I thought maybe you were Beethoven's great-great grandson or something," Akane asked, still chortling at his explanation.

"To give you incentive," Leonce smiled, wriggling his devious eyebrows.

"You old coot," Akane prodded, throwing a sugar cube at him.

As Leonce grabbed ammo to retaliate, Paul burst into the apartment. Panting and out of breath, the boy stumbled across the threshold to his companions.

"Paul, what's going on?" Leonce questioned, his visage taken my the seriousness of the situation.

"It-it's all o-o-over," He managed to squeak out.

"What are you talking about?" Akane inquired, her snapping tone not allowing Paul to catch his breath.

"There tearing this building down, the whole thing," He answered, eyes beginning to burst into hot tears. Paul grasped Akane, Leonce having to sit down in shock. Their home, their family, their lessons, would all disappear. Nearly everyone living here had little to no money, and nowhere to go if their home was taken away.

Akane smoothed her hand over Paul's brown locks, her mind racing for answers. She had just repaired her heart, just found solace in this refuge. And she sure as hell wasn't going to let it get taken away.

More snow trapped the dead grass every day, winter flourishing in the gray skies above. Only two days remained until the Winter Concert, and the end of the semester. Akane's training made her want to jab herself with needles, but Sensei said they'd ruin her skin. Men don't like scarred women anyway. Akane dreaded tomorrow, for Kenjiro was hosting his birthday party, one of the largest social events of the year. It went without saying that Akane would be his escort for the entirety of the night, and she couldn't imagine a worse fate.

"Suou-san, there is a letter for you," Shima greeted, walking coldly into the room. Handing the girl her letter, she exited quickly at Akane's request. Akane barely allowed Tamaki to see her anymore; knowing even the smallest glimpse of sunshine was too much for her weary soul. Tearing open the note, she saw her grandmother had already read it herself, though the note had been resealed to perfection. In delicate cursive, three words boggled her mind, and would change her life more than she knew.

Watch the sky.

Hey guys, as always, thanks a bunch for reviews and favs and the like. I love how there's an army of grandmother-haters. I support you one thousand and ten percent and may even write an alternative ending where the Sensei gets thrown into a volcano. Or shark pit. Or nuclear warhead. Maybe all three.

Also, the plot thickens! Now you guys got the past so we can focus on the future, (and smacking Kenjiro in the face with a frying pan( i'm actually considering writing that in, who knows?)) New chapter should be up soon, along with THE TURNING POINT OF THE STORY! So review and reply, or else I'll probably write at the speed of a dead snail. ^^