This story is forever getting longer than I think it will. Once again, a hundred thanks to my beta, Leafygirl. Sorry this was so late. You guys are awesome.

"Nothing will come of nothing," Taro decided aloud resolutely as he carefully penned the invitation, taking great care to perfect his handwriting. "This has to work. There's no way it wouldn't."

"Leash in that ego of yours," Jun replied passively as he sat back in his chair with a soda bottle. "Just because it's your idea doesn't mean it's the best one."

"Try to trust my sense of romance, oh ye of little faith." Taro raised his eyes to his companion with a small smile. "I bet in an atmosphere like this, I could even have you kissing Umehito."

"That's funny. You should do stand-up."

"What's going on?" Tokumi approached the table then, curious to what the others were doing. A look of displeasure crossed his face when he saw Taro penning a note; beside it, an envelope with Haruhi Fujioka's name on it.

"Oh my great dark God, Taro, tell me you aren't writing a stupid fake love letter for Umehito-Senpai."

"No!" Taro rolled his eyes with indignation. "That would never work. Besides, Fujioka is in the Host Club. He probably ignores love letters all the time."

"So what are you doing?" Tokumi questioned, bending over the table to see the parchment. After a moment, he raised his eyes skeptically to his grinning club member.

"You're joking. How is this supposed to work?"

"Though this be madness, yet there is method in't," Taro replied confidently. "I have it under control! As I was telling Jun, with the right atmosphere, I could have even him falling for our president."

"Oh, that's nice. That's great," Jun bit back dryly. "You just keep pressing that button."

"Wasn't it just, like, not that long ago that we were trying to scare the living hell out of these guys?" Tokumi sighed, recalling the first year's fright fest they'd invited themselves to participate in. "What ever happened to that?"

"That was a club activity. This is personal," explained Taro. "Besides, we weren't scaring a person or a club, we were scaring a class. Haruhi just happened to be in that class."

"You know, it's great and all that you're trying to do something nice for Umehito-Senpai," Tokumi began, furrowing his brow as Taro carefully folded the letter and slipped it into the envelope, "And it's pretty obvious he's got a thing for Haruhi, even if he doesn't realize it. But did it ever occur to anyone that Haruhi might be… you know… not gay?"

"Impossible!" Jun declared knowingly. "Everyone in the Host Club is gay. It's like a prerequisite."

"No it's not!"

"It won't matter!" Taro announced. "I'm sure that wherever Fujioka's preferences lie, he has a place in his heart for our dear president. Love is blind, and lovers cannot see."

"I bet they can tell the difference in gender, though." Tokumi rolled his eyes. "You're just going to end up screwing the whole thing up."

"Our part in this play is quite small, Tokumi," Taro continued trying to convince his friend, smiling confidently. "We're just going to present a situation. After that, it will be up to Umehito to screw up."

"I'm telling him you said that," Jun grinned. "I'm gonna say, 'Taro thinks you're a screw-up'."

"You are being completely unproductive," Taro scowled. "Why don't you go drown somewhere?"

"Oh hey, Taro, I got a quote for you. Ah, what was it… it's on the tip of my tongue…. Oh yeah. You're an idiot."

"Well, I don't think we have anything to do with this. Count me out." Tokumi raised his hands as he backed away from the table. He was surprised suddenly when Taro stood up and followed him, grinning.

"I'm afraid I've already cast your role, Tokumi," he began, and thrust the envelope into his bewildered club mate's hands. "You have to go and deliver it. And before you ask, its because you're the only one from the Black Magic Club whose never visited the Host Club even on an errand, and will look the least suspicious," Taro quickly explained, reading Tokumi's question on his face. Flustered, the boy opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally huffing in resignation.

"Fine. But I'm going home afterward."

"After what?"

The three boys jumped, startled, as Nekozawa melted quietly out of the darkness- they'd had no idea he'd even returned. Tokumi quickly hid the letter behind his back.

"Umehito!" Taro stammered, "I thought you were posting club fliers! Where's Reiko?"

"We split up," Nekozawa explained airily, eyeing the increasingly nervous looking Tokumi with suspicion. "What have you got there?"

"Homework. Assignment. Got a paper to write," Tokumi attempted uneasily, backing towards the door. "So… I gotta go. Write. Um… Later!"

Tokumi fled, swinging the doors open and racing out hurriedly. Nekozawa turned his mistrusting gaze towards Taro and Jun, who tensed.

"…History, I think," Taro explained, smiling. "He's nervous because he's been falling behind in history lately. So he's going to go study."

Nekozawa raised an eyebrow apprehensively. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing!" The boys replied in unison. Taro then added, a somewhat coy smile on his lips, "Merely rehearsing for a play!"

Tokumi immediately felt out of place. He bristled with uneasiness as he hurried through the third music room, face red with humiliation, feeling as though all eyes were on him. He hated being around this many people. It was suffocating. Tokumi scanned the room quickly, praying that Fujioka was someplace nearby and easily accessible. Maybe not near anyone. That would be great.

He found Haruhi finally sitting with a group of about four or five girls near the window towards the back. Ducking his head as low as he could into his coat, trying to remain as unnoticeable as possible, Tokumi hastened towards her, thinking the entire way that it wasn't too late, he could still turn around and rip up the stupid note and stop Taro before he killed someone with these ridiculously ill-conceived attempts to play Cupid. But his feet continued forward, and in a moment Tokumi had stopped in front of Haruhi. The girls quickly took note of this new boy, flushed and trembling, standing awkwardly before their designated host.

"Umm…. Fujioka…" He mumbled, somehow managing to actually draw her attention.

"Tokumi," Haruhi noted with surprise, "What are you doing here?"

Everyone was staring at him. He was starting to sweat. He couldn't seem to remember what he wanted to say and he felt so awkward it was making him nauseous, so finally he shoved Taro's invitation forward hastily into her hands.

"…For you," he stammered, shaking visibly. The girls watched, eyes widened in shock, as Haruhi took the letter from the blushing, nervous Tokumi. Immediately they erupted into squeals of delight.

"It's a confession! Haruhi got a confession from a boy!"

"What?!"

This, of course, drew the attention of everyone in the room, much to Tokumi's horror. He was quickly surrounded by a horde of shrieking girls, watching in some kind of fangirl rapture as Tokumi turned varying degrees of red.

"No, no!" he desperately exclaimed as waves of panic swept over him, "I'm just a messenger! A messenger!"

"For who?!" the girls demanded relentlessly, overjoyed, "Who sent the letter?"

"Who is it?"

"How long have you liked him?"

"Have you ever kissed a boy?"

"I HAVE TO GO NOW HARUHI GOODBYE." Without a second glance, Tokumi raced out of the room, nearly tripping over the club's clients on the way out, leaving a puzzled Haruhi and a lot of bewildered girls behind. All attention was soon focused on the note, including the eyes of the Host Club themselves. Haruhi opened the envelope and slid the letter out, while the girls held their collective breath in anticipation, hoping Haruhi would tell them what it said or who it was from. Finally, after scanning the note, a look of surprise crossed the recipient's features.

"Oh! It's an invitation to a violin concerto from Taro. I didn't know he could play."

There was a collective sigh of disappointment from the girls around Haruhi, though some still held some hope that the invitation was an excuse to get Haruhi alone, by either Tokumi or Taro, if they weren't the same person using a pseudo name. Behind her, Kyouya took the invitation, reading it quickly as his mind efficiently registered everything he knew about the sender. He adjusted his glasses as he returned the letter, and began jotting notes in his black binder.

"You're certainly making famous friends, Haruhi," he noted, glancing down at the girl with the slightest traces of a wry smirk on his cold lips. "Your friend here is the son of a famous composer, and is a burgeoning musician himself."

That wasn't all Kyouya knew about Taro, but he decided to keep the boy's club activities private for now.

"Wow, where'd you meet this guy?" Hikaru asked, somewhat impressed.

"Yeah, I've never seen you talk to anyone outside of class or this club," Kaoru added with a short laugh, taking the letter to examine for himself. "Did he just draw your name out of a hat or something?" He looked at the location for the concert. -Art wing, theater department, rehearsal room… That sounded vaguely familiar. What club met in there? Was it the drama club? The anime club?

"It doesn't really matter, does it?" Haruhi asked passively, reluctant to admit to them that she'd met him through Nekozawa. As far as they knew, she'd only been to the Black Magic Club once, to return Bereznoff to its rightful owner. She sighed. "I guess it would be rude not to go, after he went to the trouble… how bothersome. I really needed to vacuum, too."

"But this is a wonderful opportunity!" Tamaki exclaimed, immediately weaving a fantasy of Haruhi in a ballroom gown dancing with him to a beautiful orchestral melody, her eyes shining with affection. "I, of course, would be happy to escort you, Haruhi!"

"Bad luck, Tono," Kaoru began, examining the letter with some indifference. "It doesn't say 'plus guest'."

"That's- that's implied!" Tamaki sputtered. "Why would only Haruhi be invited?"

"Is that so impossible, Senpai?" Haruhi asked, her irritation obvious. "Is it inconceivable that someone would be interested in inviting me to something you weren't invited to?"

"Of course it is! –I mean… err…" Immediately he could sense the danger level radiating off the female host as he caught himself. He hadn't meant any offence, certainly, but it seemed odd to him that only she would be invited somewhere when she made so few close friends, and as a commoner there were few perks to having her as an acquaintance. He thought for sure she would understand that!

"I… I only meant…" he stammered, but she turned her back. "Haruhi! Please don't be angry!"

"You're right, Senpai," she said, her voice cold. "This is a good opportunity. I think I'll go."

He shivered, distraught by her tone of voice, when she turned towards him, freezing him with her eyes, as she added darkly "…by myself."

Tamaki retreated to a corner to weep.

The door to the Black Magic Club creaked open in the eerie manner to which she was now accustomed, reminding her to wonder, as she often did, if the door also creaked like this when the drama club needed the room or if it was an effect exclusive to this club. Slipping in, Haruhi closed the door behind her, knowing the hall light might inconvenience the club president.

"Hello?" she called into the darkness as her eyes adjusted to the dim candlelight, "Is anyone here?…"

"Haruhi!" a surprised voice was heard as Nekozawa appeared behind her suddenly, startling her a little. He seemed delighted. "What a pleasant surprise! To what do I owe the honor?"

With some confusion, Haruhi looked around the room and noticed that no one else was there. This was where the note said to meet, wasn't it...?

"Oh, Senpai," she acknowledged him, and held up Taro's invitation. "Tokumi delivered this to me in club today."

Curiously, Nekozawa took the parchment. As he read it over, he suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. So this was what the others were looking so suspicious about earlier. Had they nothing better to do?

"I'm afraid I don't know anything about it," the boy explained sheepishly. "I wasn't informed of a concerto, although it would have been nice if he'd told me he'd be utilizing the club room for personal purposes. The others have already left for today."

"Then I see there was a mistake." Haruhi bowed politely, sighing at the waste of time. "I'll excuse myself now. I'm very sorry, Nekozawa-Senpai."

Before he could object and invite her to stay a while longer, they were distracted suddenly by a soft sound filling the room. Quietly, they both stopped to listen in curious wonder as they recognized the sound to be a violin, whispering a soft melody from an unknown source. Both of them looked around, puzzled.

"Where is that coming from?" Haruhi asked as she tried to follow the sound. "Maybe I'm just in the wrong room…"

Nekozawa listened as Haruhi searched, recognizing the song to be one Taro's father had written- a soft and slow melody with an air of romance. He sighed. What, exactly, was his club hoping to accomplish with this prank?

"Its coming from over here," Haruhi called, following the song to a corner to the west of the club room. Nekozawa quickly followed, hoping to unravel this mystery so that he could reprimand Taro for being an idiot. As for Haruhi, who wasn't curious by nature, she just wanted to know where she was supposed to be, and followed her ears until they lead her to a wall. Turning to Nekozawa, who approached her from behind, she pointed to the obstruction.

"What room is behind this wall?" she asked, hoping he knew where the door was. Instead, he seemed even more puzzled.

"No room is behind there." he replied curiously. "There's a narrow hallway, and the stairs leading up to the tech room for the Drama Club during shows. It's kept locked when there isn't a production going on. "

"Well someone is in there," Haruhi folded her arms, becoming frustrated. Nekozawa, chin in hand, considered for a moment. A thought then crossed his mind.

"I think I know," he said aloud, drawing Haruhi's attention. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue but Nekozawa paused. Clearly, someone was trying to lead the two of them somewhere. Did he want to take the bait? Did he want to lead Haruhi into what could easily be a potentially embarrassing situation?

Turning to her then, he was mildly startled to find himself staring into her deep, wide eyes as she patiently waited for him to point her in the right direction. To see her so focused on him tinted his cheeks in a light blush. Nekozawa quickly turned away.

"Follow me."

He started towards the door, and Haruhi wordlessly followed as he lead her out of the club room and down to the end of the hall, passing through the door that lead into the theater lobby, currently empty. Haruhi realized that from there, she could still faintly hear the violin, and continued to follow. Finally, Nekozawa pushed open the door into the theater, and invited her to step in.

The house lights were down, but a few spotlights were lit, illuminating the bare stage and glowing dimly across the empty theater. There, the song sounded clearly through the room. Nekozawa pointed up, behind the empty rows of seats, to a room behind glass windows.

"That's the tech room," he explained. "The controls for recorded sounds are up there."

"So this is a recording?" Haruhi sighed in obvious disappointment. "Why would he invite me to hear a CD?"

"It's still him," Nekozawa absently assured her, recognizing sound to be from a CD Taro had made as an application into music schools. Haruhi glanced up at him briefly, and looked around, slightly irritated.

"But I thought it would be him in person. That's what the invitation implied. I could listen to a CD at home. And why the chase all around the school? He could have just said, 'in the theater'."

"I wouldn't put it past him to make us go through this elaborate measure to heighten the sense of drama," Nekozawa admitted, equally a little annoyed. "Lets wait a moment; maybe he's waiting to make an entrance."

Haruhi was forced to admit that Nekozawa was probably right, and chose a seat to wait. Nekozawa, deciding that the theater was dark enough, took off his robe and folded it across the back of a chair, then took a seat beside her. They sat in silence, listening to the music as it echoed across the empty theater for their ears alone, a soft and beautiful melody Nekozawa recognized to be a lullaby. He turned to Haruhi, to see if he could tell what she was thinking, but her face was blank, lost in thought somewhere as she gazed at the empty stage. It was then that Nekozawa remembered something, and he started to snicker quietly to himself. Haruhi turned to him curiously.

"I just remembered," he began, looking towards the closed curtains with a malicious smile, "when we went to go see The Woman in Black. That was a good play, wasn't it, Haruhi?" He glanced over to her, grinning darkly. Haruhi's face instantly turned red, recognizing immediately where he was probably going with this.

"It was," she replied coolly, turning away from him. He continued to smile, infuriatingly.

"And scary," he continued. "Don't you think?"

"It had its moments," she said, her red face belying her composed voice.

"It certainly did," Nekozawa grinned. "Two of them, I believe."

"Are you going somewhere with this, Senpai?" she finally asked flatly, with a hint of annoyance.

"Not particularly," Nekozawa replied with a wicked grin. "I'm just amused, is all. I tried very hard on several occasions to frighten you, and then found out all it really takes is a summer storm."

"Why were you trying to do that?" Haruhi asked seriously, raising an inquiring eyebrow at him, curious but at the same time hoping to change the subject of conversation.

"Entertainment," he replied simply with a shrug. "I like Suoh-Kun, I think he's funny. So I like to mess with him, and his club, by extension." He smiled at her unapologetically, and she responded by rolling her eyes.

"Does he know? About the thunder?" Nekozawa asked suddenly, turning in his seat to face her. "Does Suoh-Kun know?"

"Yeah, he found out," Haruhi sighed, secretly disappointing her company who had sort of liked the idea of a shared secret between them. "Come to think of it," she continued, turning to face him, "He found out when we were all at your summer house. Remember that last night, when it rained?"

"Really? That night?" Nekozawa inquired in obvious surprise, his eyebrows raised. "At my summer home? Imagine that!" He remembered that night; he even remembered the first flash of thunder. The Host Club had discovered his secret when he'd run downstairs after hearing a commotion and forgotten his wig. After that they'd established some committee, lead by the Hitachiin twins, to follow him around and barrage him with questions about his lineage until he locked himself in the parlor to escape them. He was just watching the rain out the window when the lightning stuck. Where was Haruhi then? Kyouya had gone to bed, and the others had only just stopped trying to break into the parlor where he hid. If Tamaki had found out right then, he and Haruhi might have been alone.

Nekozawa's chest constricted then, and he turned away to hide his suddenly reddening face. Haruhi wouldn't have just told Suoh, he would have had to find out. How did he find out? Did Haruhi grab his shirt, like she did to Nekozawa at the play? And then what? Did Suoh put his arms around her comfortingly? Did she bury her face in his chest? Did they share a moment? All under Nekozawa's own roof?

He bit his lip to keep from saying anything as these astonishingly upsetting images flooded his imagination, causing his stomach to lurch uncomfortably. Nekozawa didn't even understand what it was that was agitating him; he already knew that Suoh adored Haruhi, which was no secret. But, then, he also knew that Haruhi was not impulsive, or emotional. She probably flinched, maybe covered her ears, nothing more. The scene he imagined was very improbable. Nekozawa sighed, as if relieved, and willed himself to relax, aided by the tranquil music emanating from the speakers and floating softly around the theater. It did bother him, though, that he didn't know why he was suddenly so incensed.

"How remarkable," he said, facing the empty stage. "I wish I could have seen the look on his face. It's a shame, though. Tell me, is it only thunder, or do you hate rain, too?"

"I'm not a fan of it," Haruhi replied easily. "I tend to associate it with thunder, and anyhow it traps me in the house, I can't go out and do any chores or anything without getting wet. Why is it a shame?" she asked. Nekozawa hummed in thought.

"I like the rain," he said. "I like how it smells, how it sounds when it hits glass, how it ripples on the water. I even like lightening and thunder."

"You like how it blocks out the sun," she added with a small smile, and Nekozawa laughed.

"An added benefit," he grinned. He then put his finger to his lips thoughtfully as a question occurred to him.

"If you don't mind, may I ask you a personal question, Haruhi?"

"Sure, I guess," Haruhi replied warily, raising her eyes to him.

"Well, you just seem so practical and reasonable, I would never have thought you the type to join Suoh's club. May I ask what drew you to it?"

"A series of accidents, actually," she replied dejectedly with a heavy sigh. "You're right, I wouldn't have joined this club before, but due to circumstances out of my control I'm in it now. Its ridiculously frivolous, but really not all that bad. I don't mind it."

"And…" he kept his head low, his dark hair over his eyes and face to try and cover the small blush tinting his cheeks, "your club members… you like them? They treat you well?"

Haruhi eyed him suspiciously before slowly answering "Yes."

Nekozawa's face burned with embarrassment, and he found himself wishing that he had his cloak on so that he could pull up the hood and hide further. It didn't occur to him what the question he really wanted to ask was until he'd already begun speaking, and by then it was too late to stop. But how to phrase it was a problem all on its own. He couldn't just come out and ask how Haruhi felt about Tamaki, but ever since the image came to his mind of the two of them embracing, the question had plagued him. Nekozawa bit his lip.

"Are there… any of them that you favor?" He asked carefully as his heart rate sped up. Haruhi frowned.

"Nekozawa-Senpai… are you asking…"

Damn, he thought as his heart pounded in his chest, I was too obvious! Haruhi must have seen through the question into what he was really trying to ask. How would she judge him?

"Do you…" she leaned in closer, noting how red his face was, though he was trying to hide it. He bit his lip again, a gesture she was starting to recognize as being how he expressed discomfort. The habit was a little endearing.

"Do you…"

He could hear his blood pounding in his ears, and thought that if his face turned any redder it would surely burst into flames.

"…want to join the Host Club?"

"Do I what?" He turned to her, his blue eyes visible through his hair expressing the greatest surprise at her question. "Do I… why?" he asked, clearly flabbergasted.

"Well, you drop by all the time, and I know you're pretty good looking when you aren't trying to hide. I thought you wanted to join the club," she explained simply.

"No, that… that wasn't… I'm not interested in that," he replied, relieved but at the same time sort of embarrassed by the misunderstanding. "I just like your club members, is all. Well- I like Suoh-Kun, and you." The words escaped him before he could stop himself. For half a second, he was sure his heart stopped. But Haruhi smiled.

"I like your club members, too, Senpai," she said. "And you, too."

"Thank you," he blushed. He then composed himself, and smiled wickedly at her. "I wouldn't be suited for your club, I'm sure I would just frighten your guests. Besides, why would I need to join the Host Club when I'm the president of the Black Magic Club? Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven."

"Who would not, finding way, break loose from Hell, and boldly venture to whatever place farthest from pain?" she quoted back without missing a beat. Nekozawa stared at her, stunned.

"You know Milton!" He exclaimed, delighted.

"I found him to be a little wordy but it was an interesting perspective," she shrugged. "To read from the devil's point of view."

"Now you're thinking like a Black Magic Club member," he grinned darkly. "We always see the devil's point of view."

"That's debatable," Haruhi replied suddenly, smiling affectionately. "You have more good in you than you let people know about."

Nekozawa hesitated, dumbstruck by her words. What good did she see in him, when no one else bothered to look? How deeply into him could she see?

"Don't… spread that around," he shyly responded, his cheeks lighting again as he turned away. "You'll ruin my reputation."

The two of them listened in silence for a while as one song ended and a new song began. After a moment, Haruhi sighed.

"I don't think anyone is coming. I don't really understand the point of all this."

Nekozawa suspected he might understand, but chose not to say anything to that effect. He sighed as well.

"You're right. Perhaps he was held up. I guess we shouldn't wait any longer."

Haruhi stood up, and stepped out into the aisle, followed quickly by her senior, who retrieved his cloak folded over a seat. Haruhi bowed to him politely.

"Thank you for keeping me company. Sorry to take up your time."

"It was my pleasure, Haruhi. Thank you for talking with me. I enjoy your company," Nekozawa replied, returning the bow. He watched as Haruhi turned towards the exit and opened the door into the lobby. She stopped before stepping through.

"Nekozawa-Senpai," she called without turning, her hand on the door. "…I like it, too."

"…Like what?" he asked curiously. She didn't turn around.

"The sound of rain on glass."

She shut the door behind her.