A/N: Hello, friends! I'm back, and I bring you more Host Club memories! Thanks again, to my absolutely amazing reviewers/readers. You guys kick some serious ass, and I adore you all. Enjoy!

I do not own Ouran High School Host Club; it belongs to Bisco Hatori.

Fight and Defend

As the Host Club marched its way up the narrow staircase, Haruhi oscillated back and forth between fuming and fidgeting. A part of her dreaded going back into that room, and standing by that sickbed. Not because of its occupant; Tamaki's mother was possibly the sweetest, softest person Haruhi had ever met. But because seeing her there, swaddled and sinking in all those white sheets with tired eyes and fever-dimmed smile brought back memories that Haruhi couldn't ignore, no matter how much she denied their existence to everyone else. Tamaki's mother had blonde hair and purple eyes, just like her son, but after long hours of soft chatting and sometimes silent vigil, Haruhi's brain would fog with sleep and suddenly those long locks would be brown, and those soft eyes would be mirrors of her own.

Don't cry, sweetie. Mommy doesn't want to see you cry. Smile for me instead, alright?

Haruhi's hand, the one not entangled with Tamaki's, tightened into a small, shaking fist. She much preferred to focus on her anger. It was clean, and uncomplicated, and totally unfettered by unwanted memories. To help promote it, Haruhi turned and aimed one narrow-eyed glare at the boy bringing up the rear.

Kyoya didn't even acknowledge it. Just continued forward, his face perfectly bland and blank.

Jerk. I know he saw that; he sees everything. How many months, and not a word. Well, you're here, aren't you, Kyoya-sempai? Good luck getting away from me now. You and I are going to have some serious words.

And, because she knew he was watching, no matter how hard his eyes were focused on the air in front of him, Haruhi beamed him a silent message via her brown eyes.

Consider yourself caught, tagged, and bagged, Sempai. Your butt is mine.

The corner of Kyoya's mouth twitched the tiniest bit. With a heavy scowl, Haruhi deliberately turned her attention to the other members of the group. At least she wasn't the only nervous one anymore. Kaoru looked supremely uncomfortable, clinging to both his notebook and his brother's arm. Hikaru had blown straight past uncomfortable, and landed down hard in panic land. His handsome face was white, and his golden eyes were wide and shifty.

Haruhi's scowl softened into a contemplative frown as she recalled that those shifty eyes had yet to land on her for more than a few fleeting seconds. Since stepping through the cottage door, Hikaru's eyes had only hit her face a handful of times. The way he jerked his gaze away the second she noticed it, it was almost as if Haruhi's eyes burned him somehow.

Not on the outside though, Haruhi considered grimly. I'm going to have to have a chat with him as well. Okay. Set them up and knock them down then, Fujioka.

Haruhi made sure that her arm brushed his as she stepped past him on the staircase. Hikaru jumped like she'd pressed a branding iron to his skin, and turned his face away.

Oh. Oh, Hikaru.

"This is it," Tamaki said, as he led them down a spacious and sun-drenched hallway. "Her room."

The Host King paused for a moment, his long fingers wrapped around the door knob.

"Please," he murmured, and the ache in his voice had Haruhi's hand clamping down hard on his. "I know that none of you will disappoint me. But, please. Be…kind with her."

Haruhi chanced a glance over her shoulder. Hikaru and Kaoru's eyes were wide. Mori's hands had tightened into surprised fists. Even Hunni looked lost and uncertain. They'd heard Tamaki soft, and they'd heard him sad.

But never had they heard him so…hesitant. So unsure, and scared, and so very young sounding.

That's right. He's serious. This is serious.

The sudden dry burning in Haruhi's throat, the unexpected prick and tingle in her eyes, knocked Haruhi a bit off balance. She swallowed hard and looked away, and accidentally locked eyes with Kyoya. For one brief, highly charged second, his eyes stayed on hers, he was looking, he was actually seeing her, and there was no way she was imagining the slight softening in his face.

Then, his eyes were on the wall again, and his face was hard and blank like stone, and Haruhi was left with the realization that the tingle in her eyes had morphed into wet and rolling tracks down her cheeks.

Haruhi turned back to face the wall, and wondered at the sudden chill in her chest. She scrubbed slowly at her eyes, and her fingers felt brittle and frozen, her lips and cheeks like glassy sheets of ice.

"Haru-chan," Hunni whispered as Tamaki turned the door handle and led the way inside the room. "Are you hurting somewhere?"

"No, Hunni-sempai."

And really, it wasn't a lie. She was far too cold, far too numb, to process any pain.

….

Whatever magic Tamaki possessed, to bring people to his side and keep them there with silken ties of love and friendship, clearly came from his mother's side. One look at Anne-Sophie's, sitting so soft and delicate, a fairy-queen wrapped in white lace blankets, and the boys all but tripped over their own brains. Hunni's big brown eyes went as wide as saucers, and began to sparkle suspiciously. Hikaru and Kaoru openly gaped. Mori's face was as blank as ever, but his body went tight with the instinctive need to protect and defend.

Tamaki released Haruhi's hand, and went to his mother's side. The woman smiled up at him, a bright, beautiful smile that perfectly echoed the limitless love shining in her soft violet eyes. The hand she used to reach for his was the perfect feminine mirror of his own; long-fingered, soft-palmed, and elegant.

"Mother, may I present the members of the elite Ouran Host Club? And my friends," he added softly. "Gentlemen, this is my mother. Anne-Sophie Grantaine."

Tamaki's mother turned that blinding smile of welcome on the boys, and flustered hot flushes into their cheeks.

"Oh, it's so wonderful to meet you. Tamaki talks of nothing else."

Suddenly, it seemed that everyone's vocabulary had dwindled to Mori-like proportions.

"Um."

"Mm."

"Bwah."

And then Kyoya stepped forward and saved them from their own stupidity with a small, perfectly proper bow.

"Ms. Grantaine," he greeted smoothly. "It's a pleasure. I'm honored to make your acquaintance."

Anne-Sophie gave a little laugh that sounded like chiming bells.

"You must be Kyoya," she said. "Kyoya Ootori. Tamaki's told me so much about you."

Kyoya glanced up, and the gentle weight of understanding, of sympathy, in those too-similar violet eyes fell on his shoulders like silk-wrapped bricks. Carefully, Kyoya averted his gaze and eased out of his bow.

"And with your sweet face, you can only be Hunni-sempai," Anne-Sophie continued, turning away from Kyoya with a soft and knowing smile. "And you must be Mori-sempai, so big and strong."

Hunni beamed, his brown eyes widening with delight. Mori shifted a little, the tiniest bit of embarrassment staining his cheeks a subtle pink.

"And Hikaru, and Kaoru." Anne-Sophie laughed again. "Tamaki's told me such stories about the two of you."

Golden eyes narrowed and flashed over Anne-Sophie's shoulder. Tamaki met their dual glare with a decidedly evil grin.

Remember when we met Ranka for the first time, and the two of you walked all over my back? Hello, vengeance. How sweet you taste.

"It's super nice to meet you, Ms. Grantaine!" Hunni chirped, tucking his hands behind his back.

"Please," Tamaki's mother said, her eyes soft as they searched Hunni's face. "Call me Anne. Tamaki's told me so much. I feel close to all of you already."

She extended her free hand in warm invitation.

"I'm sure you're all exhausted. But please, won't you stay and talk with me awhile?"

"I'll go and get some chairs from the kitchen," Tamaki said immediately. He brought his mother's hand to his lips. "I'll be right back."

He dashed out of the room almost like he was afraid that it would change if he left it for too long.

"Sweet boy," Anne-Sophie murmured, almost absently. The softest breeze danced through the open window, and the sunlight filtered through the lace curtains, catching fire on her golden hair. "I should thank all of you for that, I think."

The boys exchanged identical looks of confusion.

"What do you mean, Ms. Anne?" Hunni asked, a bit hesitantly. "You're his Mommy. We didn't raise Tama-chan."

"Yes," Anne-Sophie's smile was soft again, and her eyes searched Hunni's face like she saw something precious there. "And he's always been sweet, such a caring boy. But it's been so long, and I feared that the…environment in which he was living might have hardened him, somehow." Her violet eyes traveled, lingering on each occupant of the room. "I am glad…so very glad and grateful that he found you. I think that you're the reason, all of you, why he stayed the way he is. And that is why I owe you my thanks."

The barest bit of wet welled in her eyes, and as one, the entire Host Club drew back like she'd bitten them instead.

"I'm sorry," she said, chuckling a little at the helpless looks on their faces, nearly identical in their horror. "This may seem a bit forward. But I've been wanting to express my gratitude since Tamaki first started telling me your stories. So it's been simmering, I guess."

"Ms. Anne," Haruhi sputtered weakly, for even after spending days with the woman, she was still taken aback by her kindness. It was like Tamaki, just like Tamaki, and it both warmed and worried her. Where did it come from, this endless generosity? How did they make it so genuine?

Tamaki shuffled back through the door, hauling three wooden chairs in his wake. His eyes immediately sought his mother's face, and he honed in on her damp cheeks like a heat-seeking projectile. He abandoned the chairs by the door with a loud thump, and dashed to his mother's side.

"Mother! What's wrong? What happened? Are you hurting? The doctor said not to overdo!"

Anne-Sophie stilled the frantic fingers moving over her face.

"Hush. Darling. I'm fine."

She stole a glance at the Host Club members, still huddled uncertainly against the wall, and laughed.

"Although, I think I've terrified your friends."

The boys blushed, and retrieved the chairs. There were three chairs in the room already, and Tamaki chose to sit on the bed by his mother's side, so the rest of the club members arranged their seats in a loose circle around the centerpiece of sheets and blankets.

By some silent and unanimous vote, Haruhi had ended up flanking Anne-Sophie's other side. The boys had given her a look that read something along the lines of; 'she's one of your kind, and we don't have the appropriate equipment to figure out her secrets anyway', and shooed her into her seat without actually moving. Haruhi took it, but the look she gave them promised all sorts of pain later on.

"I've got to say, Haruhi," Anne-Sophie said warmly, turning to the girl on her left. "After getting to know you a little better these past few days, I never figured you for the Host Club type."

"I'm not."

"How do you know if there's a Host Club type?" Kaoru interrupted curiously.

Anne-Sophie shot him an amused glance from underneath her eyelashes.

"Darling. I'm French."

Kaoru choked for a moment, his face flushing shades darker than his hair, and then gave a helpless, stretching smile.

"So, if you're not the Host Club type," Anne-Sophie said, answering Kaoru's grin before turning her attention back to Haruhi. "Then how ever did you find yourself a full-fledged member?"

Some days, Haruhi wasn't very clear on that herself.

"Um…well…you see…"

"We kidnapped her!" Hunni blurted helpfully, kicking his feet gently against his chair.

Anne-Sophie barely blinked. If anything, she only leaned forward, fascination written on her face.

"I see. But then, if it was only a kidnapping, why did you stay?"

Tamaki cried, "She stayed for me!" at the same exact moment that Haruhi muttered, "Stockholm Syndrome."

Mori twitched, Hunni laughed, and Kaoru snickered into his fist. Even Hikaru snorted a little, when he saw Tamaki seriously considering the far corner of the room.

Anne-Sophie gave her son's leg an absent pat as he began to flail, albeit very carefully, so as not to accidently strike his mother.

"It must be difficult," she said blandly, pitching her voice a little so that it rose over her son's wails of "Haruhi, how could you!" and "Betrayed, abandoned by my own love!". "To be around so many boys all the time. Are they terribly protective?"

Haruhi's eyes slid sideways, to Mori, who was still slightly rigid with his instinctive need to protect the frail figure swaddled on the bed.

"Oh, you know," she said, her voice dryer than hot sand in the summer time. "They have their moments."

She took her eyes off of Mori and slid them over to Kaoru instead. She gave him a tiny smile, and after a split second's worth of confusion, the boy smiled back, his golden eyes warming with recognition.

"Now they're pretty good about backing off when I ask them to, and understanding that I can take care of myself. But in the beginning, they just had no idea." Haruhi settled back in her seat and prepared to play the game, the one that had fixed them once before. Maybe the magic that it had worked to bring them all back together could repeat itself now. "They did it a lot more often back then, but they even now, they still forget sometimes. And they protect me whether I want them to or not."

….

"This is a bad idea."

They weren't listening. Haruhi really wasn't terribly surprised, because honestly, when had they ever? But still, she was supposed to be the level-headed one, right? So, she was honor-bound to try and knock some sense through their abnormally thick skulls at least one more time.

"This is a really, really bad idea," she tried again, even as Mori pressed a wooden stick into her palm.

The only response he offered her was some sort of vowel sound before he wandered away again.

Haruhi sighed, and stared down at her bare toes. She was standing, albeit very reluctantly, in the private dojo behind Ouran academy, the one that the Karate and Kendo clubs used for their meetings. She had stripped off her shoes, and her powder-blue jacket, and felt supremely stupid, standing there in her white shirt and black slacks with a giant stick in her hands.

Spread across the matted floor, the boys were in similar states of undress. The twins were poking each other with their sticks, and Haruhi knew it was only a matter of time before they teamed up instead and went after someone else. Tamaki was executing some sort of excited pole dance with his weapon, while Kyoya watched with mild horror and great resignation. Haruhi peered a little closer at his face, interpreted the barely there smirk as Kyoya's expression of wild glee, and surmised that the first thing Kyoya went after with his stick would be Tamaki's face. Across the room, Hunni leaned easily on his stick and surveyed the Host Club with a soft smile. The amusement in his eyes was knowing, almost jaded, and for once, he actually looked his age.

Haruhi looked down at the stick in her hands, shuffled it a little to get a better measure of its weight, and realized that after three or four energetic swings, she'd be pretty much unable to lift it over her head again.

"This is stupid," she called. "One day of self-defense training is not going to help me in the long run."

The boys paused in their various expressions of excitement and glanced in her direction.

"Don't be such a buzz kill, Haruhi!" The twins chorused.

"It takes years of training to reach skill levels like Mori-sempai and Hunni-sempai," she said stubbornly. "And besides, I know I look like a dude, but I'm still built differently than you guys. It's going to be twice as hard learning just one technique from someone who's used to training boys."

Hunni slung his stick casually over his shoulders as he strolled to Haruhi's side, ignoring Tamaki's anguished cry in the background.

"MAMA! Make our darling daughter stop using those nasty boy words!"

"Moron."

"This is supposed to be fun, Haru-chan!" Hunni scolded, as he stopped at her side with a little bounce. "Aren't you even a little bit excited?"

Haruhi sighed. Sometimes, she really hated those big brown eyes.

"I guess," she muttered. "But I just don't see the point of it, Hunni-Sempai."

Hunni laughed.

"Just fun!" he announced, giving another excited bounce and spin. "And…and maybe you can practice some of the things we show you." Hunni turned a guileless smile in her direction. "Haru-chan is really bad at looking after herself sometimes. It makes us worry. So maybe you'll learn some stuff today that will make us feel better. Kay?"

Oh, Haruhi though instantly. Oh, I see.

She looked around the room, and suddenly she could read the beach incident in their eyes like a well-loved book, an identical story in six different faces. Something soft and warm uncurled in her chest.

You morons, she thought fondly, and gripped her stick with newfound purpose.

"I get it, Hunni-sempai," she said. "Go ahead and show me, then."

Six sets of shoulders relaxed simultaneously, and Haruhi read relief on the air. From the looks on their faces, she inferred that they'd been dreading her reaction to finding out the true purpose of this activity. It was sort of nice to surprise them.

Once the weapons were distributed, Hunni and Mori paired them up. Tamaki gave Kyoya a wide, excited smile, and from the look on the Shadow Lord's face, Haruhi figured that Tamaki had maybe thirty seconds after the start call before he got a stick to the skull. Hikaru and Kaoru were ranged together, and giving a grinning Hunni identical looks of suspicion.

Haruhi looked at her sparring partner, and tried not to focus on just how high she had to crane her neck in order to meet his eyes.

"Interesting match-ups," she observed quietly. "Any particular reason behind them?"

"Hikaru and Kaoru don't have much style, but they possess a great deal of energy," Mori intoned softly. "Mitsukuni is also…enthusiastic. They'll wear each other out. Kyoya is the only one Tamaki knows he can't really hurt, and Kyoya wouldn't let anyone other than himself attack his king." Mori shifted the stick expertly in his large hands. "I am more advanced at this form of martial arts than Mitsukuni. And you are the one we worry for the most. We agreed that you'd be safest with the most experienced."

Haruhi couldn't decide if she was flattered, or frustrated.

"Also," Mori continued. "Sometimes it's hard for you to see past Mitsukuni's appearance. You view me as the most unbreakable. So you'll attack me with actual force."

Haruhi snorted out a laugh and briefly contemplated the muscles in Mori's arms and chest. They really thought she'd be able to damage him? Oh, her sweet, deluded, little boys.

Mori's eyes warmed, his version of an answering smile, and then motioned to Mitsukuni.

"Alright!" the blonde boy cried, drawing the attention of every occupant in the room. "Takashi and I will show you the first move you'll be learning."

It didn't look very difficult. Just a simple thrust and parry with the sticks. But once Haruhi found herself facing Mori once again, the stick suddenly seemed very frail.

"Um…," she offered, eyeing the area she was supposed to be poking. It was corded with muscle.

"Start!" Hunni called cheerfully.

Haruhi didn't even have time to attempt a thrust before the sharp sound of stick meeting flesh filled the room.

They all turned to see Tamaki parked on his ass on the matted floor, cupping his nose, while Kyoya hovered over him with a very satisfied smirk.

"You dropped your guard. Moron."

Tamaki's outraged howls filled the room. Haruhi couldn't stop the snicker that bubbled in her throat. Had she predicted thirty seconds? Kyoya hadn't even given Tamaki ten.

"Kyo-chan," Hunni called, and there was suppressed laughter in his voice as well. "We're just blocking now. We'll teach you how to hit Tama-chan in the face later."

Kyoya inclined his head the barest bit.

"My apologies, Hunni-sempai," he said smoothly. "It was instinct."

Behind Hunni, the twins collapsed in silent hysterics.

They resumed their stances at Hunni's command, and Kyoya behaved himself from there. But while the other boys were starting to gain some sort of rhythm with the sticks, Haruhi had yet to successfully hit Mori's skin, or block his blow when he came after her. The stick was heavy, and getting heavier every time she failed, and Haruhi hated how awkward, and uncomfortable she felt, stretched into such an unfamiliar stance. And Mori had started rapping his stick against her knuckles every time she failed to parry his thrust, or break through his own defenses. Not hard enough to really hurt, but the sharp sting began to mix with Haruhi's mounting frustration, forming an unsafe cocktail of emotion.

After one particularly sharp smack to her aching fingers, Haruhi tossed sweat-soaked brown bangs out of eyes that had narrowed dangerously.

"Mori-sempai?" she said, her voice light in spite of her venomous glare.

"Mm?"

"You know I respect you, right?" she asked sweetly. "As my sempai, and a martial artist?"

"Mm."

Haruhi bared her teeth in a tight smile.

"I'm glad. But if you keep hitting me with that stupid stick, I'm going put my foot in your face."

Mori smiled, actually smiled, with teeth and everything, like this was the reaction he'd been waiting for. And Haruhi fell off balance for a moment, because Mori's real smile was sort of like a shooting star, beautiful, but oh so rare.

"If you think you can," he said, and his voice was warm with approval.

He brought his stick forward again, going for the vulnerable skin of her belly that was already bruised by his attentions. And Haruhi narrowed her eyes even further, and let out a soft snarl as she moved her stick to meet his own.

The sharp crack of wood meeting wood echoed around the room, and Haruhi felt the impact reverberate all the way up her arms.

"Good," Mori said softly, while Haruhi gaped at her stick in a blank sort of shock. "Again."

He came after her again, and Haruhi raised her aching arms to meet him out of instinct.

After a while, the sound of their sticks became the focal point of Haruhi's world. She still missed more often than not, and the ache in her arms had become a sort of silent scream, but every time she managed to deflect his attack, something inside of her laughed, loud and triumphant. But Mori was working her across the floor now, forcing her to move her feet as well as her hands, and while Haruhi's inner sadist might have been having a good time, her body was slowly losing its energy. It became habit for the other boys to jump in as Mori moved her past their respective sparring places, and block one of his blows for her.

"Darling daughter, are you hurt?" Tamaki bellowed as he stopped Mori's stick with his own.

"Pay attention, idiot. He almost got you," Hikaru snarled, as he glared something subtle at Mori-sempai.

"Come on, Haru-chan!" Hunni winked over his shoulder as he deflected Mori's blow with practiced ease. "No need to go easy on Takashi; he can take it!"

"Really, Haruhi. Is that the best you can do?" Kyoya drawled as he blocked Mori's blow almost lazily, but with a bit more warning in his thrust.

"No worries, Haruhi," Kaoru said. "I've got you."

And suddenly, the same anger that had helped her block Mori's hits in the first place blossomed into a hot, towering rage in Haruhi's mind. Later, after the haze had cleared, she would realize that she was offended by the fact that they kept jumping in front of her.

But, for now, she was just pissed.

"Knock it off!" she yelled, giving Kaoru a hard shove to the side. "I don't need your help!" She swung her stick wildly, in an over the head arc that made her muscles shriek.

And hit a stunned Mori-sempai right in the face.

The room went absolutely silent as Mori staggered back from the force of the blow, his eyes the widest that Haruhi had ever seen them.

"Oh," Haruhi said, her anger swept away and buried by a wave of pure horror. "Oh, no. Mori-sempai, I am so sorry!"

But Mori didn't seem to hear her frantic apology. Instead, his eyes crinkled, his mouth twitched at the corners, and amazingly, he began to laugh, in great booming bellows that were even rarer than his actual smile. Hunni joined in almost at the same time, his giggles high pitched and riddled with glee. Tamaki lost it right after that, with a slow, disbelieving shake of his head. The twins laughed themselves nearly to tears, their arms wrapped around each other for support. Kyoya didn't laugh, of course, but he sported the widest smirk Haruhi had ever seen.

"It's not funny!" she cried, her voice hitching dangerously. "You idiots, I could have hurt him, I could have…" And then she was laughing too, great, big, whooping howls that she was powerless to control.

They laughed for what felt like hours, eventually sliding down to sit on the mats when their legs wouldn't hold them anymore. Tears rolled down red cheeks, and their stomachs started to hurt. But they still couldn't stop.

"Never seen…," Tamaki started, before bursting into a fresh flurry of giggles. "Mori-sempai, your FACE!"

"Right in the nose!" Hikaru and Kaoru chanted, with perfect unison even in their hilarity. "She got him right in the nose!"

Haruhi cracked open streaming eyes, saw the very faint red mark down the center of Mori's face, and lost herself once again.

"I don't know what happened," she admitted much, much later, when they'd calmed to a reasonable degree. "I just…I got so mad."

"Why?" Tamaki asked curiously.

They were sprawled on the floor now, flopped over into comfortable positions. Their words were still interrupted by the occasional snort or snicker.

"Because," Haruhi said, resting her chin on her updrawn knees. "Because, you guys kept jumping in front of me."

Tamaki frowned. He was on his stomach, with his chin resting on his hands. Next to him, the twins were still listening through giggles, sprawled flat on their backs.

"Of course we did," he reasoned. "We could tell that you were getting tired, Haruhi. We didn't want to see you hurt."

"Yeah," Haruhi agreed. "But wasn't the point of today to teach me to defend myself?"

Soft silence. The laughter finally drained away, but the mood hadn't darkened, really. Just shifted gears.

"It's…sweet," Haruhi continued. "How much you guys want to protect me. I get it; I'm not mad. But…I really can look after myself. You guys have to start trusting me a little. You're not…you can't always be there. Not for stuff like this."

Six sets of eyes surveyed her thoroughly, with varying degrees of sheepishness and blinding affection.

"So I guess today's exercise wasn't stupid after all," Haruhi finished softly.

"I disagree," Kyoya countered, but not in a tone that implied actual opposition. The gleam behind his glasses seemed to suggest that he simply had more ideas in addition to hers. "Today's activity was pointless, to a degree."

"Oh?" Haruhi asked, raising an eyebrow at the older boy. "And why is that?"

Kyoya's smirk was nowhere near as wide as before, but the shadow of it was still there.

"You say that we can't always be there," he said smoothly. "But, really Haruhi, if something were to truly happen, do you honestly think anything could keep these idiots away?"

And me, went unspoken. Do you really think we wouldn't be there for you in an instant?

You're ours, after all.

Haruhi's mouth opened, and then shut itself again when the appropriate words failed to appear. She ducked her head a little, and let herself feel the painful ache of their bonds for a moment.

Not true, she reminded herself sadly. It won't always be like this, they'll leave me in the end. But it's nice to pretend, for a little while.

"But we know that you don't always need us, Haru-chan!" Hunni interjected cheerfully. "After all, you beat Takashi, didn't you?"

The next warm wave of their laughter didn't banish Haruhi's bittersweet thoughts completely, but her present contentment allowed her to push them back into a darker corner of her brain.

She didn't want sadness, not right now. She wanted the sunlight filtering in through the dojo windows, and the sweat-stained mat beneath her cheek, and the sound of her friends' laughter almost convincing her that maybe, maybe they would really stay.

…

Anne-Sophie leaned back on her pillows and laughed, long and hard.

"So impressive, Haruhi," she giggled.

Haruhi grinned, a bit sheepishly. She caught Mori's eyes, and the look he sent her way was warm.

"I didn't mean to," she offered weakly. Anne-Sophie's laughter was infectious, and the other boys were smiling as well. Even Hikaru. "I just…got mad."

"Of course," Anne-Sophie agreed, still chuckling softly. "Boys can be difficult companions. And Tamaki did tell me that you all have an unfortunate tendency to loom."

The rhythm of her laughter changed, became small, dry coughs that rattled in her lungs. The smiles slid from the boys' faces as Tamaki lunged forward, reaching for his mother's shaking shoulders.

"Mother?" he whispered.

She waved a gentle hand at him.

"Hush, Darling," she said again, her voice just a tiny bit strained. "I'm fine. Don't spoil it."

There was a small awkward silence as Tamaki continued to stare anxiously into his mother's face.

"That's not the only time we surprised Takashi!" Hunni burst in, his smile bright and determined. "Remember, Tama-chan? Remember the party?"

Tamaki's smile was bit sick, and sort of shaky, but he tried. He turned his face back to his friends and slid back from his mother's side.

"Of course."

But he didn't let go of her hand.

...

A/N: What sort of party could shock the ever-stoic Mori? And what's the real reason behind Kyoya's cold behavior; can Haruhi bring him back with memories alone? Stay tuned to find out. Happy Reading!