Disclaimer: All goes to Bisco Hatori and all the people that will sue me of I claim otherwise.

AN: 6/24. Thanks to everybody! Thanks for all the reviews/alerts/hits/visitors/favorites! I feel so super special right now :) Enjoy!

Chapter Four

Cold. That was all she could feel. A freezing, penetrating coldness that seemed to go all the way to her bones, making her ache. She felt her teeth chattering, and she looked around. What a strange place, she thought, gazing in confusion at the sight before her. She seemed to be standing before a strange castle. It was large and ornate and very gorgeous, but there was a darkness in this world that made it seem ominous and intimidating. The darkness was everywhere, for each shadow seemed much larger and blacker than shadows normally were, and there was very little light. She looked up and gasped. There was no sun in this world! The whole sky had been painted over with dark black clouds that obscured all the color of her surroundings. The sky was a dull yellow at points were the clouds were thinner, but those areas were few and far between. She stumbled backwards at the sight, an irrational nervousness taking her over at the sight of those clouds.

She gazed up at the castle again, weighing her options. She shivered with the cold. There doesn't seem to be any other option but to go in, she thought. She jogged up the large steps to the double doors. She looked up, impressed with their height. They had to be at least twice as tall as she was. She took hold of the handle with her pale fingers and glanced backwards at the dark courtyard before pulling the heavy door open and sliding inside.

...

The soldier kicked aside a piece of burning wood and surveyed the damage. The entire platform had been destroyed. Debris was scattered all over the ground from the explosion that had caved in a good portion of the roof. Little patches of fire were still eating away at the wood, and a few bodies were lying motionless, their lifeless eyes staring at the devastation in frozen horror. A few cries from the survivors met his ears, and he blocked out their anguish. Trash from the knocked over receptacles danced around him, guided by the wind. A wrapper landed on his shoe.

He looked down in disgust and shook it off when something caught his eye. A glint. He bent down, and his large, gloved fingers picked up the shiny object. It was a gold key, old fashioned and long. And very expensive looking. He stared at it in confusion. It seemed so out of place on the filthy, destroyed platform. He looked around on the ground, wondering if there were any other treasures nearby. Something pale peaked out from underneath a slab of wood. A hand.

The soldier rushed over, lifted the wood, and swept away some of the rubbish. Beneath all the trash was a small, brown haired boy. He was dressed in a light blue jacket and fancy pants and leather shoes, all of which looked very expensive. He was probably from that one rich kid high school down the road. The soldier felt a pang of sadness as he looked at the boy. It looked so tiny and thin, and the face, despite the small bruise on its cheek, looked innocent and vulnerable. The kid's shoulders hadn't even broadened out yet. He had died very young. Suddenly, the soldier's eyes widened. The chest was rising and falling.

"Hey!" he yelled. "I've got a live one over here!"

And with that, the young boy was lifted into the truck with the rest of the survivors and driven to the Ootori hospital.

...

The train chugged along, and Kaoru listened to its groans and various other noises in silence. His red hair, which was normally groomed to perfection, stuck up in every direction and still had ash in it. The snow's wetness had long ago dried from it, but he pulled his coat tighter around himself. Somewhere within the back of his mind, he registered that Haruhi hadn't had a coat on when she…fell. He rubbed his puffy, blood shot eyes, but there were no more tears. He had already exhausted them for the night.

Beside him, Hikaru was hunched over with his hands folded. His eyes looked at the ground distressed, and he had long ago shed his winter coat. Kaoru saw him shiver but said nothing. He knew what he brother was thinking. If Haruhi didn't have a coat, he wouldn't have a coat. It was a pointless act though, for they still had much more than their friend did at the moment.

Kyouya was sitting next to Hikaru with his eyes closed and his head leaning back against the seat. His lips were moving though, so Kaoru knew that his friend wasn't asleep. It looked like he was counting, trying to distract himself. He had been doing that ever since the train master had forced them to move from the caboose to a carriage. Kaoru noticed the dark shadows underneath his eyes. He could probably use some sleep, but Kaoru knew that it would be awhile before any of them would be able to sleep again.

Directly across from Kaoru, Hunny was snuggled against Mori for warmth. His eyes were heartbreakingly empty for the small teenage boy, as though he had lost everything that made them spark. Tears were still leaking from them, but they flowed silently and without a sound. He pressed himself closer to Mori, who looked broken. It was as though all the fight had gone out of him, and his samurai-like senpai wrapped an arm around his cousin, while his other hand gripped the cloth of his coat. The knuckles were white from how tightly he was holding it. Kaoru had never seen him look so helpless, and he knew that Mori was blaming himself for not being able to help Haruhi.

Not as much, Kaoru thought to himself, as Tono, though. He looked to the spot directly across Kyouya. The blonde teen was hunched over much like Hikaru, but unlike his twin, he had his face in his hands and was gripping at his hair. Kaoru had long since stopped listening to him, but if he pricked his ears, he could hear his friend muttering. "Nous l'avons laissee. Je ne peux pas croire nous l'avons laissee. C'est de ma faute. C'est de ma faute." Kaoru remembered with a pang how the train master had come to tell them to move, and Kyouya had shook his best friend, trying to get him up off the ground. When he wouldn't move, Mori had had to bodily lift the blonde and carry him like a sack of potatoes to the carriage. Tamaki had been muttering in French ever since.

Karou turned away from their king. It felt like he was intruding on something private. It was painful to look at him. Kaoru turned his gaze to the window. He knew that the train was taking an out of the way route, one that would keep them away from the cities and away from the soldiers. The only thing visible through the glass was a blanket of snow, occasionally broken by bare trees and mountains.

At least three hours had passed since the bomb had exploded within the Lower School Building. He wondered whether there were any survivors and if Shiro was one of them. His mind continued to worry. Where were his parents? It was true that they had never spent much time with the twins, but they still loved them. Were they even alive? And what about the families of the rest of the hosts? Were they all right? After they had gotten the call from Kyouya's father, they had been too frightened to think of anything else except getting on that train. If they had stopped to think about it though, they wouldn't have made it to the station with enough time to get onboard. They had barely made it in the first place.

His thoughts drifted back to Haruhi, and he saw her face in his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to send the image away. He wished that they could go back, that they could return and search for their friend. But the train wouldn't stop, and they were way too far away now to get off and walk back. Even if they did, as he so wanted to, he knew that the results would be fatal. There had been soldiers on the platform, collecting people and taking them away. The whole city had been overrun, and if they went back now, they'd surely be shot on sight. And that was not something that Haruhi would want. Who knew if she was even - Kaoru's eyes widened, and he seized his brother's hand. Hikaru looked at him confused, but he shook his head. Hikaru understood though and squeezed back. Haruhi had to be okay. She had to be.

Suddenly the sharp ring of a phone interrupted his train of thought and shattered the silence. All the hosts jumped at the sound, which seemed much louder due to the silence. Kyouya reached into his pocket, eyes still closed. All eyes watched him as he flipped the phone open and placed it by his ear. "Hello?" he murmured quietly.

"Where are you guys?" a voice yelled through the phone loud enough to fill the carriage. Kyouya clutched his ear nearly fell out of his seat in surprise. He shot into an upright position as Tamaki looked up, and the twins jaws dropped.

"Renge?" Kyouya asked in an astonished tone, gripping his phone.

He held the phone away from his head as the girl replied. "Of course, it's me! You have caller ID, you should know! What's going on over there? It's all over the news!"

"What's the news saying?" Hunny asked, untangling himself from his cousin.

"Apparently the Diet has given total control to Tojiwara!" she yelled. "The Americans and the UN are so super angry! They're talking war!" The hosts looked at each other in astonishment. They had surrendered. Given up. "Where are you guys?" the otaku repeated.

"We're on a train on its way to Nagasaki Airport," Kyouya said. "They have helicopters waiting to fly some survivors out."

"Do you know where they're going?"

There was a moment of silence. Kyouya's brow furrowed, and Kaoru knew what he was thinking. Where would they be going? And how had they missed that? Kyouya cleared his throat. "Not particularly. There was…an accident," Kyouya's voice stumbled on the word, "and we didn't think to check."

"So you're about to go on helicopters that are going God knows where?" Renge shrieked. Nobody answered. "Do you know what you will do when you get there?" Still no answer. Kaoru could practically see her hair turning into snakes. "You are all IDIOTS! It could be a refugee camp! A refugee camp! With improperly prepared food and disease and people of all kinds! Like thugs! Rapists! So. Not. Moe!"

"Well, where else are we supposed to go?" Hikaru snapped. He was glaring at the phone. "We don't really have a choice! Where would you have us go, princess?"

"France."

There were a few moments of stunned silence. Tamaki spoke for the first time. "France?" he said, sounding shocked.

"Of course," Renge said over the phone. "My family has a private jet grounded at Nagasaki. I can call the pilot and have him fly you to my mansion."

"In France?" Tamaki whispered, as though he had never heard of the place. Kaoru saw a myriad of emotions pass through the young blonde's face. Surprise, confusion, joy, sadness, despair. They quickly flit through him.

Renge was still on the phone. Kyouya spoke into it. "Thank you for your generosity, Renge," he said, gratitude in every layer of his voice, and Kaoru knew that for once it wasn't the fake kind that the Shadow King usually gave his customers. Back then, Kyouya would never have exposed so much of himself as he had tonight. For once, the boy was at his rawest form, which wasn't surprising considering all that had happened that day.

"I'll alert the pilot at once!" Renge cried. "And you guys, be careful!" she said a bit softer before she hung up and all that could be heard was a dial tone.

Kyouya shut his phone and placed it back into his pocket. "At least we know where we're going now," he said in a dull voice.

Hikaru snorted. "Wonderful…" he said sarcastically before slouching in his seat. Kaoru was still holding his hand. He could feel it shaking. His twin's lips were blue.

"Hikaru…" his twin muttered.

Mori stood up, and the occupants of the car watched in confusion. The tall boy reached onto the baggage rack for the dark fabric of Hikaru's discarded coat. He shook it out and laid it across Hikaru's body like a blanket. The twin was about to protest before Mori raised a hand, demanding silence. "Freezing won't help anybody," he said roughly before sitting down next to his cousin, who once again huddled against him.

Hikaru looked angry for a few seconds and seemed to be considering shoving the offending material off when Kaoru squeezed his hand. His brother looked at him, and Kaoru tried his best to communicate with his eyes. "Please, just leave it," he silently pleaded, and the other red head's face softened. Hikaru raised his legs and hugged them underneath the long overcoat, burying his face in his knees.

It seemed like only a few minutes before the train careened to a stop in front of the airport, even though it had taken about another hour. All around the train, people were being ushered out by the Japanese guards, and Hikaru put his coat on properly before exiting with the rest of the club. The passengers were herded off like cattle and directed through the gates of the airport. Kaoru made sure to grab hold of Hunny's shoulder, so as not to get separated. The boy Lolita looked up at him in surprise before giving a small smile. About a hundred meters away, there were about ten America helicopters preparing for take off.

"Host Club! Host Club!" a small voice called over all the chatter and wind. On the other side of the crowd, a small, mousy haired man in a parka held a sign in the air painted with the letters "OHSHC". He seemed to have seen Kaoru watching him, so he jumped up and down in the air, assuring him that this was the person they needed to meet. Kaoru nudged Tamaki, who turned.

"Kyouya," the blonde said, and his best friend turned.

Kyouya narrowed his eyes against the snowy wind. "Looks like our ride has arrived," he said before marching towards the man with a tall stride. The rest of the crowd followed.

"It is good to make acquaintance with you," the man said in awful Japanese. "I am called Baptiste, and I am employed by Houshakuji. If you please follow me." The man spun on his heel and bounced jauntily towards to modest sized jet further down the runway. Kaoru glared at his cheerfulness. Just where had that man been the last few hours? What right did he have to be so happy when his own world was falling apart around him? He and his brother shrugged simultaneously and followed the man as the rest of the club trailed behind them. "Young mistress said seven," Baptiste said in a slightly confused, but still infuriatingly cheerful voice.

He looked up. "Huh?"

"Seven," the man clarified. "But six walk are here. Where is number seven?" For a few minutes, the club didn't answer, and the man turned back around, thinking that he was being ignored. Kaoru saw "number seven" in his mind again, and he shook his head vigorously.

"There was an accident," Tamaki said. Kaoru looked up and saw him standing at his tallest, looking the pilot in the eye. The man looked slightly shocked. "There will be only six of us on this flight," Tamaki finished, waiting for the man's response.

Baptiste had the decency to look aggrieved. "I am very sorry," he said, as they finally reached the plane. There were stairs at the front which they could use to board. Baptiste rapidly climbed to the top and opened the door, bowing. The club didn't move. They stared at the plane for a few minutes, knowing that this was it. This was the moment that they would really leave Haruhi. To Kaoru, the plane seemed to grow larger and more intimidating. It seemed to stare down at him, daring him to board. His stomach churned. Suddenly, a small figure stepped forward. He watched Hunny stride forward with a determined, yet pained face and begin the ascent. Immediately, Mori followed him, as did Kyouya and Tamaki. Tamaki paused at the door, staring out, before ducking his head and entering. It was just Kaoru and Hikaru now.

Kaouru looked at his brother and stretched out a hand. "Ready?"

Hikaru sighed. "Not really." He took the hand, and together they climbed the stairs. Hikaru released his hand and ducked through the doorway, but Kaoru stared out at the horizon for a second. The passengers from the train were entering the helicopters. Snow blew around him. He looked east, the direction he knew that Ouran was. Hikaru poked his head outside. "Are you coming?" he asked.

"Yeah," he said absentmindedly. We'll come back for you, Haruhi ,he promised before entering the plane, and the door shut behind him.

...

A hundred miles way, Doctor Jihi was preparing the injections. He had been specially brought in with a team of distinguished doctors from Tojiwara to treat any injured survivors to the attacks and to assess the current patients of the hospital. He carefully poured a few millimeters of solution into a syringe, and down the hallway, he could hear the pleading of a Japanese doctor.

"No, you can't!" he was yelling. "You can't do this, they're just patients, this is MURDER!"

Jihi winced at the anguish coming from the young physician. He wasn't thrilled about what he was about to do either, but orders were orders, and they had to be followed. He carefully placed the waiting syringe in a case, which he then placed in his pocket. His white lab coat blew around him as he joined his team.

One of them, a small, black haired kid that looked like he had just graduated medical school was eyeing his syringe nervously. "And we're supposed to inject the patients with these?" he asked, his hand shaking.

"Don't think of them as patients," another doctor said. "They're Japanese, far beneath you. Their numbers need to go down, and we all need to do our part."

The kid's eyes were wide open and terrified. "B-b-but-"

The older doctor snorted. "If you can't handle it, go tell Rasputin yourself. We don't have time to waste on your foolishness." With that, the man brushed past the black haired kid and strode down the hallway, the rest of the team behind him. The kid seemed to debate for a few moments before running to catch up with them. Jihi sighed, following at a leisurely pace. He put on a careful mask as he passed the room in which the Japanese doctor was yelling. The man's bellows and shrieks reached a peak and followed him down the hallway. Jihi tried to calm his rapidly beating heart.

It wasn't long before they reached the large, white double doors. A doctor stepped forward and pushed it open, holding it for the other doctors that entered. The all stopped at the entry way to observe the sight before them. On both sides of the long room, unconscious patients in beds lined the wall. Young, old, men, women. They were all present, and all of them had the crooks of their elbows exposed to them. In a corner, a few nurses were crying. One, however, was struggling against a guard while yelling in rapid Japanese. He didn't understand much Japanese, having only taken a year of it in college, but he was able to guess the reason for her loud protests.

"All right, gentlemen," the head doctor said, stepping forward. He gestured toward all the patients. "They're all yours." With that, the doctors scattered across the room. Jihi watched them eagerly stick their needles into the arms of the patients with disgust. The Japanese nurse was crying now.

Jihi took a deep breath and walked towards the nearest patient. He didn't look at its face only its arm. He plunged the syringe into its arm…and froze. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried again, but once again, he couldn't seem to make his thumb push the trigger down. He glared at his hand. Maybe another patient. He pulled the syringe out and looked around. All around him, poisonous liquid was being injected into the bodies of unknowing patients. Chests rose and fell for the last time everywhere he looked, and he could practically hear their heartbeats quicken and suddenly stop like a car crashing into another. He had always laughed at the idea that it was easier to talk and think about killing than to do the act, but as he held his weapon in his had, he found the notion truer than anything he had ever believed in his whole life. He just couldn't do it! And there would be consequences to his inaction.

He looked around, lost as to what he should do. However, he was struck by a sudden idea as he saw one of his fellow doctors hurrying to a bed. Jihi sprinted forward and reached the bed first. He put back his mask and looked his fellow "doctor" straight in the eye. "Sorry!" he chuckled. "Called this one!" The man grumbled a bit before leaving to find another patient. Jihi let out a silent breath of relief and looked down at the life he had just saved. It was a teenage girl, but she hardly looked like a teenager underneath the sheets. She had very little figure, and she was so small. Her pixie face looked miniscule on top of the overly large pillow. She had short brown hair that splayed out around her head like a small halo. Yes, he thought as he carefully took out an empty syringe, if there was anybody I could have chosen to save, he plunged the syringe into her elbow, I'm glad that it was her.

Seconds later, the head of the group called for silence. All the doctors took their one murder and wheeled their gurneys through the doorway. As Jihi pushed the girl past the nurses, one of them got onto her knees and glared at him fiercely. "Murderer!" she screamed in bungled Tojiwaran, and she spit at him. The guards had her on the floor before he'd left the room.

The doctors continued their journey through the hospital to what Jihi knew to be the morgue. Jihi could practically hear the girl's heart beating. They were going to get caught, he was sure of it…She was so obviously alive, anybody could tell. Her chest was still rising and falling.

A gasp met his ears, and he turned his head. Standing against the wall was a red-haired woman. She held her hands against her mouth, and tears were running down her face, smearing her makeup. She stared distraught at the procession. Jihi swallowed a gulp and turned his attention back to straight in front of him. He couldn't have his cover blown by showing sympathy to the woman. When the turned the corner and she fell out of sight, he breathed a sigh of relief. They were nearly to the morgue now…

At that moment, double doors in front of him opened, and another procession was making its way down the hallway. The Parade of the Living. As they rode past hinm, he looked around cautiously before spinning the girl around and joining them. They entered another hallway before they could reach the red haired woman.

...

The Host Club dreamed.

...

Mori was running. The trees around his rushed past, blurring with his speed. He pumped his arms and legs as fast as he could, and although he felt like his body was going to collapse beneath him, he ignored the burning feeling in his legs and the pain in his lungs. He had to keep going. He couldn't stop for anything. If he did, he'd surely lose her…

Ahead of him, a figure leapt nimbly over a log, her long hair flowing behind her in the wind. Mori could see her, but only barely. She was always just outside of his grasp. The snow fell around them. He heard her giggle, and the noise echoed around him, unusually loud. He had to catch her. She was so close…He put on a burst of speed and reached for her elbow…but then he was falling? He crashed face first into the ground, moss and wet soil squishing into his skin. He looked up desperately and saw the girl run away and out of sight, still giggling. He raised himself up on his hands and knees, staring at the ground below him. He'd lost her. She was gone. Gone. Gone. And the snow fell around him, and with closer inspection, he realized that it wasn't snow after all. He picked up a piece and saw that they were shreds of paper. Paper with words. He squinted his eyes, trying to see what it said before he dropped it, his eyes wide with fear. He leapt to his feet and started running again, sprinting after the missing girl. Behind him he left the paper, which held a single word. "Lost."

...

Kaoru dreamed he was in a wreckage. He groaned in pain and gently touched his head, and when he pulled his hand away, he saw a red sticky substance. He wiped it against the bright green French overcoat he was wearing, and he raised himself to his hands and knees and looked around. The moon shined down on him, and a few feet away, he saw other bodies.

"No!" he cried, and clambered to his feet, his head going dizzy in response. He clutched his head and stumbled towards the bodies. Bits of smashed pumpkin were scattered everywhere, its orange rind splattered against everybody. They were all there. The driver, his hat off and his blonde hair covered in blood. The small boy in the orange overcoat, and his guardian dressed in navy blue. The one clothed in violet was missing his glasses, but he was otherwise all right. His brother was there too, wearing his light blue overcoat. But there was somebody missing. "Princess!" he cried, his panic beginning to grow. No. Nononono. NO! his mind cried. He frantically turned his head right and left, fear playing a diminished cord against his heartstrings. He ran towards the other side of the wreckage, trying to see if she was behind the giant pumpkin that had been destroyed. "PRINCESS!" he screamed, his voice raw and distraught. He crumbled to his knee, knowing that all hope was lost. Hot tears ran down his face as he shook. They something caught his eye. He gasped and opened his eyes wide with astonishment. Then, oh so carefully, he gently took hold of the perfect glass slipper that was lying on a pillow of ferns.

...

Kyouya dreamed that he was standing in his room back at home, and he was furious. The painting was so close to being done. His inner artist could see it, the gorgeous blue vase of flowers that his mind had created. He had spent what felt like an entire lifetime painting that image, perfecting it. He'd started with the lavender rose, and once he had finished it, adding a bit more light to it, he had moved on to the white, and the navy, and the pink, and the orange, and the blue. All that he had left to do was the bright red rose. In his mind, it was absolutely stunning, it's beauty far more exhilarating and far more breath taking than all of the flowers put together. He'd reserved a very special spot for that flower, right in the center of the painting, where all the other flowers would be able to touch it. However, when he had tried to paint that flower, he realized that he had no more paint left. His palette was empty.

He angrily pushed the intercom button by his door, but he only received a dial tone. He gritted his teeth and violently pressed the button a few more times. "God damn it," he growled through his teeth and spun around to look at the painting, his heart breaking at how empty it looked without that red flower.

...

Hikaru dreamed that he was back in Karuizowa, the resort that the Host Club had visited last summer. The rain was pouring down in torrents, and he could feel it running down his back and into his eyes, but he paid it no heed as he ran. Thunder roared above him, and he picked up the pace, knowing that somewhere, his friend was more terrified. He seized a random passerby by her shoulders and shook her, the water droplets spraying around them from the movement. "Help me, please, I'm looking for a girl!" he cried, and he was scared, so very scared.

The woman shook her head. "I'm so sorry, but I haven't seen who you're looking for." She pulled away and continued walking. He could feel tears springing to his eyes in his helplessness, and he furiously wiped them away before he continued running. A flash of lightening illuminated a large cross, and he skidded to a stop, his eyes wide. He quickly turned his head to the side and saw a small building before him. He gasped. That's right! He sprinted towards the church and burst through the doors. "Haruhi!" he cried in relief. He knew she had to be in here, she just had to be!

He ran up the aisle, joy spreading like the smile on his face. He laughed. "I should have known that you would be here. I was so worried, but that doesn't matter now!" He laughed again, but he stopped when he received no response. Another crash and boom of lightning and thunder, and very surprised, Hikaru heard no accompanying scream. He felt his blood run cold. "Haruhi?" he said slowly. He crept up to the alter, scared of what he might find. His hand found the sacred cloth, and he grasped it with all the strength he had. Oh, please, oh, please, oh, please…his mind chanted before he took a deep breath and looked behind the alter. Nothing was there.

...

Hunny's dream was much different. He was sitting in the Ouran cafeteria, but it wasn't quite like the cafeteria he knew. All the lights were off, and the sky outside the large ceiling to floor windows was cloudy and ominous. The room was completely empty, and he gazed around in confusion. How strange…

Suddenly a door opened, and the creak echoed throughout the cafeteria. Hunny's eyes opened wide as a girl with long brown hair slipped in through the small space and closed the door behind her. A very familiar girl.

"Haru-chan!" Hunny cried, leaping to his feet. The girl jumped at the sound, and without turning around, she yanked the door open and disappeared through it. It closed with an audible click. "Wait!" he yelled, and he ran towards the elegant doors. He seized the handles and pulled with all his might, but they wouldn't budge. He felt a burning at the corner of his eyes, and he let out a yell of frustration. "No!" He pulled and pulled and pulled at the door, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get them to open.

...

Tamaki dreamed that he was standing in the second Suoh mansion. Above the mantle to his fireplace, a giant portrait was placed. In it was his friends, all grouped together for the moment the photographer would press the button and they would be immortalized forever. Haruhi was sitting in a rather ornate chair, looking at the camera with a bright smile, her hands on her knees and her face split with joy. Above her, he was gripping the back of her chair, and he could remember the joy he'd felt at that moment. It was only a few days after the France incident, and his friends had risked life and limb to go after him and bring him back. Kyouya stood next to him, his arms folded and an amused expression gracing his face. The twins stood in front of him, back to back and wearing identical looks of mischief, and Tamaki remembered the awful revenge prank they had executed a few minutes later on him. In front of him, Hunny held his hands behind his back, and his baby face was wide and grinning, looking the total part of an adorable Lolita. Mori stood behind them all, his tall presence protecting and shielding them from the cruel world. They all looked so happy.

He felt a presence next to him. He didn't look. "It's all your fault, you know," he heard Rasputin say.

"I know," Tamaki whispered, and he continued to stare at the portrait until the lines and colors blurred. When that happened, he woke up.

...

Tamaki opened his eyes and shot upright. His breath came in pants, and a cold sweat running down his face and sticking his pajamas to his body. He looked around the unfamiliar room in fear for a moment before he remembered where he was. Renge's mansion. He ran a hand down his face, and he felt a warm liquid running down his face. Tears.

Unable to just sit there any longer, he swung his legs out of the large Emperor sized bed and got to his feet. He walked to the magnificent window and stared out. He had forgotten how beautiful Paris was at night. The Eiffel Tower was just outside his window, and its light cast long glowing patched on the carpet of his room. Car lights and street lights stretched for miles around, and he could just see the Seine River, winding its way through the city. He felt a pang in his heart when he remembered who wasn't there to see it .

He head his door creak, and he slowly turned around. Mitsukini Haninozuka was standing on the threshold, and behind him stood Takashi Morinozuka, Kaoru Hitachiin, Hikaru Hitachiin, and Kyouya Ootori. Kyouya pushed his glasses up his face. "Our children couldn't sleep," the black haired teen said quietly, but Tamaki heard the slight hitch in his best friend's voice, and he knew that Kyouya hadn't been able to sleep either.

He gestured into the room. "Come in," he said with a tiny smile, but he knew that it had come much slower than usual. The group slowly entered the room. The twins sat against the side of the bed, their knees hugged against their chests, and Mori took a seat on the bed. Hunny leapt into his lap, and Kyouya collapsed into the armchair by the bed. They all stared out the window with Tamaki. There were no stars in the night sky that night, thanks to the City of Lights, but they could all see the bright white moon watching over the city.

Mori, surprisingly, was the one to break the silence. "I miss her," he whispered, barely audible.

"We all do," Kyouya said, and nobody was surprised at the heavy emotion that was in the Shadow King's voice.

Hikaru took a deep, shuddering breath. "You don't think that she's…" he trailed off, terrified of the overwhelming possibility. There was a few heart pounding seconds of silence.

"No," Tamaki said, he voice firm. He turned back to his family. "Unless we get proof, I will not consider the possibility. Haruhi has to be alive, and I will not believe otherwise."

Nobody in the room replied, but they all felt emboldened by the response. A little bit of their fear ebbed away at his words, and they felt their spirits rise. They all looked at the moon, comforted by the thought that although they were separated and although they couldn't see each other, they were all still standing underneath the same moon and the same night sky. And as long as that was the case, there was still hope.

Tamaki placed a hand against the glass. "We will find you, Haruhi," he breathed. "I promise.

...

Thousands of miles away, a nurse watched a young girl wake up. She had been stationed to watch the girl and wait for her awake. She silently thanked every god she could think of at that moment, for she had been warned that if the girl didn't awaken by morning, she would have to be killed. The new hospital administration didn't have room for those who would never wake up. The girl took a gasping breath and looked around in fear with unfocused eyes. The nurse remembered that the patient had been wearing contacts when she had been found, and she grabbed the pair of glasses that she had been given.

She held them out to the terrified girl. "Here you are." The girl looked at her with her wide, brown eyes, and she placed the lenses on her face, making her eyes seem even larger. They overwhelmed her face and paired with the bandages wrapped around her head, made her seem even more vulnerable.

"Where am I?" the girl asked in a raspy voice, and the nurse pressed a finger against her lips.

"Sh," she said gently. She passed her a glass of water. "Just rest for a moment. It seems like you took a pretty hard fall." The girl gently touched the bandages on her head and winced. The nurse took hold of her hand and placed it back against he sheets. "Hey now. None of that." She smiled at the small girl, and she took the clipboard from the nightstand and held her pen at the ready. "Now, let's get some information. First thing's first. What's your name?" When she heard no response, the nurse looked up. "Honey, didn't you hear me? What's you name?"

"I don't know," came the tiny, whispered response.

The nurses head shot up. "I beg your pardon?" she asked shocked and worried.

The girl shook her head, and tears began to run down her face, leaving track marks. "I don't know," she said again with a serious, deadpan stare.