A.N.- CORRECTIONS TIME. Has everyone seen the first chapter of volume ten? I'd seen the untranslated raws before, and the nameless faces of the Black Magic Club on pages two and three were what I based my interpretations of their personalities on, but it didn't occur to me how friendly and cheerful they actually are! You think I would have taken that as a visual cue. The biggest difference was that it actually said where their cub meets- the North Wing, in the basement. So we're going to say that the art department is in the North Wing. As for the basement, um… I guess I can put the rehearsal room in the basement, what the hell.
This chapter is un-beta'd and will probably be edited later. Sorry to make you all wait so long for this chapter. I wrote it all, hated it, and re-wrote it. Hope its worth the wait.
Having no real physical strength to speak of, Haruhi quickly realized that moving her unconscious upperclassman on her own would be nigh impossible. So, as discreetly as possible, she re-entered her clubroom and managed to flag down Mori, asking if she could get his help with something outside for a moment. He agreed, leaving Hunny alone with their clients to follow the girl.
Nekozawa was still lying pitifully on the ground when they exited, and besides him, there were now two young women pointing at him and giggling amongst themselves. When they caught the eyes of the two Host Club members, however, they quickly scattered, giddily ducking into the Third Music Room and leaving the three alone in the hall.
Haruhi didn't explain and Mori, bless his heart, didn't ask. Instead, with a nod of understanding, he hoisted the lithe man up and slung him over his broad shoulder as if the blond weighed nothing. In the process, Nekozawa's wig slipped off and landed on the floor, and Haruhi retrieved it, supposing that he would probably be wondering where it was when he came to.
Having never touched the item before, she marveled briefly on how soft the fine black hairs were. The wigs she was used to were mainly those of her father's friends from the drag bar, and Haruhi was asked to hold one once so as not to ruin it when at a party someone made themselves sick from drinking and disappeared into the bathroom for a while. The hair on that wig had been coarse and felt like plastic, and she quickly set it aside. But Nekozawa's didn't feel cheap at all. Holding the headpiece lightly between her fingers, Haruhi briefly entertained the idea that perhaps his real hair was even softer; it certainly looked like it would be.
But then it occurred to her to wonder just what this wig was made of, and she consequently grossed herself out by imagining that he was wearing barbershop remnants. Haruhi wisely decided not to dwell any further on the subject.
Mori quietly followed as Haruhi lead him down to the Theater Department, where she hoped Nekozawa's club members would be able to help him. She really didn't know where else to take him, she didn't know of any dark, unlocked room for him to recover in, besides a closet (which seemed a little undignified). She just hoped that the long walk through the sunbeams down to the Art Wing didn't aggravate his condition. This fear was guided by the fact that Nekozawa remained unconscious for the entire trip.
When they arrived at the theater rehearsal room, Haruhi paused, glancing to Nekozawa. She had hoped he would be awake by now and able to complete the trip himself, but it seemed that he was still in no condition to hold his own weight, though he did seem to be stirring a little, as if his body was finally beginning to cool down. She shifted her weight, torn in indecision. Mori was still supporting the boy, but his eyes were locked on Haruhi, noting the rare show of concern she was sparing the blond. Finally, her eyes turned upward to meet her club senior's, giving him an apologetic look. Mori nodded once, and she pushed open the door to the clubroom.
Assuming not incorrectly that their president was returning, the Black Magic Club turned anxiously when they heard the door open, eager to hear all about what had happened when Nekozawa left. But they had not expected him to return supported by two Host Club members.
Taro jumped to his feet in surprise, and Tokumi quickly began dimming the lights, recognizing the cause of Nekozawa's state. A chair was gestured to, and Mori and Haruhi entered, looking supremely out of place.
"Oh my gosh!" Shinobu exclaimed upon sight of her unconscious president, "I didn't know he was blond!"
Recognizing Mori, Reiko's eyes widened in surprise, and her gaze darted around the doorway, as if looking for someone. When it was apparent that no one else had followed them from the Third Music Room, she turned away, pointedly ignoring the tallest Host Club member. It couldn't be told whether he noticed her or not.
As Nekozawa was set carefully into an armchair, he began to come around. A pained sound escaped him through gritted teeth, and he covered his eyes with his arm.
"Please close the door," he rasped, more a command than a request.
As Mori was closest to the exit, he turned first, recognizing that he was no longer needed. He started towards the bright beam of light pouring through the crack between the door and its frame, but stopped briefly in the doorway, turning wordlessly to Haruhi. She immediately seemed able to read his expression.
"Ah- I'll be right behind you. Thank you for your help."
He nodded, and closed the door softly behind him, leaving the room in an almost perfect darkness, lit by only a few remaining candles. When he was gone, Reiko noticeably relaxed. Nekozawa sat forward, hiding his face in his hands, in either pain or humiliation. His fair hair poured over his fingers, glowing almost ethereally in the room's soft illumination, in stark contrast to the dark atmosphere, but he didn't seem to notice.
"What the hell were you doing? Running laps?" Tokumi demanded, producing a glass of water and setting it on an end table.
"Don't antagonize him!" Taro snapped, fishing around in a dark cupboard. "I'm sure he didn't do it on purpose. Where did we put the aspirin?"
"By the sink," Tokumi replied, looking back and forth between Nekozawa and Haruhi, the latter of whom was looking a little awkward, as though she felt like she should be doing something, but she didn't know what. Shinobu was staring at their president in awe while Taro was attempting to find the small medicine bottle on a dark countertop, and Jun sat by a candle, quietly observing, a devilish smile stretched across his lips.
"I can't wait to hear this," he grinned. "This is gonna be great."
Haruhi felt mildly compelled to stay, but knew that there was nothing more she could do. Nekozawa seemed fine, anyhow, and she had her own club to return to. So, stepping over to the coffee table, she set his wig down on it.
"You dropped this," she said, straightening. Nekozawa did not look up at her.
"Um…" Tokumi mumbled abashedly, "…Thanks for looking out for him…"
"Well, I wasn't going to just leave him there," she replied simply. The looks on the other's faces, though, only spelled out what she regrettably already knew- anyone else may very well have just left him there.
"I have to get back to my club," she began, sighing. "I hope you feel better soon. I'll see you later, Nekozawa-Senpai."
As she turned to leave, though, she felt something catch her arm in a tight hold. A glance back revealed Nekozawa's pale fingers wrapped around her wrist in a firm grip. Her eyes traveled down his outstretched arm to meet his, where he had finally turned to look at her through a curtain of golden hair, his head still lowered. He was clearly burning with humiliation.
"I'm… sorry…" he muttered, barely audible, his reddened cheeks even brighter in the dim candlelight. "You shouldn't have…"
"But I did." She interrupted cleanly. "And I'm not sorry. So don't dwell on it."
Nekozawa wanted to tell her how grateful he was to know her, how she was truly a rare creature, but couldn't seem to make the words reach his mouth. He smiled instead, and she smiled in return, which was good enough for him.
Loosening his grip, he slid his fingers down her hand, pausing slightly at her fingertips as if reluctant to break contact, and finally withdrew. Haruhi made a polite bow, and slipped out the door, leaving the Black Magic Club alone.
"A thousand curses on anyone who saw me like that," Nekozawa hissed malevolently once she was out of earshot. "And a thousand more if they try to make gossip."
"So I gotta ask," Jun began, grinning unsympathetically. "Did you get to say a single word to Haruhi, or did you just haul off and faint first? Because, I have this picture in my head of you in the middle of their club room, and suddenly you get nervous and just pass out. It's as sad as it is hilarious."
An aspirin bottle then whizzed across the room and smacked Jun square in the temple with surprising accuracy.
Outside, Mori was waiting for Haruhi as she emerged from the dark room. She gave him an awkward smile when she noticed him.
"I haven't even picked up the tea canisters they sent me out for yet," she sighed. "He was outside the club when I left the room, and when he fainted, I couldn't just leave him there."
"Ah," was Mori's simple reply.
"Thank you again for your help, Mori-Senpai. I know he's… strange… but there's no reason not to show him the same respect as anyone else."
Mori gave her a small smile in response.
The Host Club had gotten busy while the two were out, and the other club members were so grateful for their return- tea canisters in hand- that they didn't even bother to ask what had taken so long or why the job required Mori and Haruhi both. The two dutifully returned to their waiting customers, and Haruhi was glad to have been able to bypass the inquisition. Only Mori had seen Nekozawa outside, and she knew Mori wouldn't tell anyone.
It turned her stomach a little to be keeping a secret (more or less- she would tell them the truth if they asked), but Haruhi had a sneaking suspicion that no one in the Host Club- with the possible exception of Mori and Hunny- would understand why she was friends with Nekozawa, and she really didn't want to have to explain herself. There was nothing wrong with her having friends outside of club, but she just didn't think most of them would comprehend that. The twins would probably become jealous, Tamaki would needlessly fear for her safety, and Kyouya, well… he would probably calculate what her relationship to the Black Magic Club would do to her reputation and how the Host Club would suffer as a result, continuing on to explain how that would affect the progress of her debt repayment.
In fact, she was almost expecting that particular discussion any time now. Kyouya had made it pretty clear, in his indirect way, that he knew she was somehow involved with Nekozawa. He had been right about the rising number of visits from Black Magic Club affiliates, and most of the time, they'd arrived to see her. It was only a matter of time until either Kyouya divulged this information to the others, or they noticed for themselves. Haruhi began to consider telling them first, before they found out any other way. The thought made her grimace.
I guess it'll be like pulling off a band-aid, she considered. It'll hurt for a minute but then it will start to get better. She began to think of ways to bring the subject up, but everything she thought of only made her look more suspicious. She could visualize the looks on their faces reading "why are you telling us now?" As a result, the best she could think to do was to wait until it was mentioned, and elaborate then.
She just hoped they wouldn't freak out too much.
The next Host Club meeting marked yet another curious appearance of Nekozawa, but the encounter was decidedly more pleasant than usual, as it was not Umehito Nekozawa who graced them with his presence, but in fact his younger sister, Kirimi. Tamaki had been entertaining some guests when, to his surprise, a small, blonde blur suddenly launched herself into his arms with a delighted squeal.
"Fake Oniichama!" She announced excitedly, latching on to Tamaki in an affectionate hug.
"Kirimi-Chan!" He responded in equal parts shock and joy. He returned her hug and lifted her into the air playfully, to her jubilant laughter. "What a surprise! But it breaks my heart when you call me 'Fake', can't you call me 'Nii-san?'" he requested with a hurt look, but Kirimi was not impressed.
"But you aren't my REAL Oniichama. You're the fake one!"
Tamaki pouted visibly, genuinely affected by her harsh words.
"Hey, what's Sashimi doing here?" Hikaru asked, gliding over. "She knows where her brother's club is. Did she get lost or what?"
Kirimi's face immediately took on a look of horror. "It's DARK in there!" She explained.
"Yeah!" Tamaki agreed, wearing the same terrified expression and hugging the child closer. "It's scary, too!"
"Okay, whatever," Hikaru replied, backing himself out of further questioning with a defeated look. Kaoru snickered.
At this point the rest of the club had taken notice of their small guest, plus a few female classmates who wandered over, entertained by the adorably tiny blonde girl.
"Oh, my!" One girl beamed, "Is she your sister, Tamaki-Senpai?"
"She looks just like you!" Another added, folding her hands across her chest. But Kirimi answered for him, before Tamaki could open his mouth, by shaking her head vigorously.
"No way! He's not as cool as my brother!"
The girls all giggled and cooed at the cute answer, and the twins burst into fits of laughter, knowing by the aghast look on his face how Tamaki must be feeling to be told that Umehito Nekozawa was cooler than him.
"Okay," Kaoru laughed, wiping away a tear of mirth, "She's cool. She can stay."
"Kirimi-Chan," Haruhi drew the child's attention in her ever-rational tone, "does your brother know you're here? Have you gone to see him yet?"
Kirimi's eyes filled with tears and she whined pitifully, and Haruhi assumed the child had attempted to visit her brother, but couldn't get past the front door.
"Um… sorry…" Was all Haruhi could think to say to pacify Kirimi's weeping.
"The Young Master knows his sister is here, and will be out presently," replied a vaguely familiar voice from the doorway as the Nekozawa family maid Kuretake entered (and suddenly the room felt just a little bit colder somehow). "He chose to let her finish her business in private, rather than disturb your club activities."
"I think our activities have been disturbed already," Haruhi sighed as Kyouya stepped forward at the mention of the word 'business'.
"Is there something we can help you with?" He asked, a little too slyly, but Kuretake gestured to Kirimi.
"The Young Miss insists on explaining herself," she answered simply. Kyouya turned to the child with his best smile.
"What can we do for you, Miss?" He asked pleasantly, in fact, too pleasantly as the rest of his club quickly read the message indentured behind his eyes; that being, if he could avoid dealing with children, by God, he would.
Unfortunately, it seemed Kirimi could read it too, as she turned her face into Tamaki's chest. "Megane is scary..."
Kyouya stiffened and the twins didn't even bother trying to contain their rancorous laughter at Kirimi's continued bluntness. Even Tamaki stifled a snicker behind his hand. Kyouya pursed his lips, but bravely held his smile.
"Well then, perhaps you'd like to talk to your fake nii-san instead," he offered, making sure to emphasize the word 'fake' for Tamaki's sake. In the back of his mind, he wondered if he was really all that frightening.
Tamaki's look of injury and despair at his best friend's implied harshness quickly melted as Kirimi hopped down from his lap to turn and face him, and attempted an exaggerated lady-like curtsey. The club's guests gushed over how absolutely darling she was as she proceeded to pull an envelope out of a pocket on her dress, and presented it to him.
"Fake Oniichama, will you come to my birthday party?" She asked with a very sweet smile, her blue eyes shining. Tamaki turned bright red as he found himself overwhelmed by how cute she was, and tears brimmed in his eyes. He swept her into a tight hug, exclaiming jubilantly, "I'm so touched that you would invite me, Kirimi-Chan! Of course I'll come!"
At that moment, the same thought passed through the minds of the rest of his club:
Is he really getting this emotional over a three year old's birthday?
Kirimi cheered and giggled at his acceptance of her invitation, as well as how he spun her around, and the club guests gushed again. Kyouya adjusted his spectacles.
"Then if your business is quite complete," he stated plainly, his patience now quite thin (due in part to his irritation at being insulted by a three year old in front of a room full of clients), "we are running a service here."
"Of course," Kuretake bowed, and held a hand out to Kirimi. "Come, Young Miss, lets go see your brother now. Have you delivered both invitations?"
"Both?" Tamaki asked, and found the sentiment repeated by several others.
"Oh I almost forgot!" Kirimi announced, pulling another invitation from her pocket. She then hurried over to the gathered group of hosts. No one expected she would stop in front of Haruhi Fujioka- least of all, Haruhi herself.
Kirimi's awkward curtsey was much for hurried than it was for Tamaki, like she nearly forgot to do it before presenting her envelope to the club's only hostess.
"Will you come too, Nerd?" She asked, very sweetly and innocently. Haruhi facefaulted. The twins snickered, Tamaki looked horrified on her behalf, and Kyouya felt strangely justified.
"Me?" Haruhi was clearly puzzled, taking the invitation as if she had no idea what it was. "Why me?"
Kirimi beamed. "Because you read to me!" She replied simply, and flounced back over to her supervisor in her carefree, childish way. Haruhi was dumbfounded.
"Just for that?"
"We look forward to seeing you both," Kuretake smiled, and lead her charge out of the room as Kirimi waved goodbye.
Haruhi was at a loss. Slowly, her eyes traveled down to the slightly rough-cornered envelope in her hands. 'Nerd' was written on the front in elegant calligraphy. She sighed dismally.
"Isn't this wonderful, Haruhi?" Tamaki exclaimed excitedly, holding his invitation out beside hers. "We were both invited! Now neither of us will be lonely!"
"But I'm not really interested in a kid's birthday party. What's so fun about hanging out with a bunch of children?" She wondered, frowning. Glancing back up to her club mates though, she saw that they were giving her strange looks, and wondered if she had somehow offended them.
"I... I mean," she began attempting to backtrack, "I don't really mind kids, but… do you really want to play those old party games?"
Tamaki's interest was instantly piqued. "Party games? Like what?"
"I think you're getting confused, Haruhi," Kyouya scoffed smugly. "You seem to be mixing up commoner birthday parties with those of the upper class."
"Is there a difference?" Tamaki was practically bouncing with curiosity. "What's the difference? What party games?"
"The fact is," Kaoru explained with a shrug, "any birthday- even a child's birthday- is just another excuse to have a huge party. Parents will invite all their friends over to celebrate, and maybe there will be some kids there, too."
"Parents will say it's to get their kids acquainted with high society and introduce them to people who might be their bosses when they get older," Hikaru continued, "but I think it's mostly just an excuse to stay socially relevant. To be honest, I think commoner parties sound more fun."
"You aren't really selling this for me," Haruhi confessed, looking at the invitation dejectedly. "I think I'll opt out."
"You mustn't!" Tamaki cried, looking far too upset. "Getting an invitation to a high class party like this is such a great opportunity for you! I bet you'll be the first commoner they ever had as a guest!"
"Once again, not really selling this for me."
"Haru-Chan…" this time it was Hunny's face that appeared before her, and to her surprise, he was pouting. Haruhi rolled her eyes with a sigh of "You too, Senpai?..."
"If you don't go…" he wept, "don't you think you'd make Kirimi sad?..."
Haruhi felt a slight pang in her chest. Would she let down Kirimi?...
"I seriously doubt she'd even notice if I was there or not," she replied, though she seemed a bit skeptical.
"But she went to the trouble of inviting you!" Tamaki pressed the argument, holding up Haruhi's hands dramatically, the envelope still clutched in her fingers. "She made this invitation especially for you!"
"But- I…" Haruhi looked hopelessly around the room, but no one, not the club's intrigued guests, not her own friends, seemed to be sympathetic to her severe disinterest. In fact, it was starting to look more likely that if she declined again, Tamaki would cry, and in the end somebody would probably just kidnap her the night of the party anyhow and then she wouldn't have the luxury of being at least moderately prepared. So, in her desperation, she uttered the one phrase she never in her life thought she would ever find herself saying, and would have given the world to take back:
"…But I don't have anything to wear!"
Tamaki and the twins looked so happy, they could just die. Haruhi could have died too, but for a different reason.
"Leave that to us!" the twins declared. "We have just the thing!"
With no warning, each of them grabbed one of Haruhi's wrists and pulled her over to the closed doors of the practice room as Kyouya politely dismissed all their guests, explaining that there was now need for a club meeting. When the room had cleared of all but the Host Club, the Hitachiins threw open the double doors.
There, a beautifully crafted elegant white satin dress hanging off a slender dressing dummy shimmered before her.
"Oh God," she lamented, horrified. "I had forgotten all about that thing."
"I knew we'd get a chance to put this on you!" Hikaru grinned ruthlessly. "That's why we kept it in there!"
"You'll look so pretty, Haru-Chan!" Hunny announced cheerfully as Tamaki blushed, picturing how great she was going to look in it.
"Now," The twins began in unison, their identical eyes glinting with evil, "let's try it on to make sure it fits!"
Suddenly, a terrible chill shot down Tamaki's spine, and he wrapped his arms around his freezing shoulders.
"Wait!" he called, his eyes wide with fear. "We forgot one thing!"
"Ah," Kyouya smirked coldly, "I was wondering when this would occur to you."
The twins looked at him quizzically, and the Host Club King shivered.
"I just remembered… won't Kirimi's brother be there?"
Hikaru and Kaoru paled. Haruhi felt a strange combination of terror and relief that could not be explained.
"Well, crap!" Hikaru cursed. "Nekozawa doesn't know that Haruhi's a girl, so we can't even put her in a dress!"
"That's awful!" Tamaki declared, scandalized. "What are we going to do?"
"Actually," Kyouya smiled, "Nekozawa does know."
There was a moment of stunned silence as six sets of eyes stared, dumbfounded, at the vice president. Kyouya's smile remained planted on his face.
Slowly, all eyes turned to Haruhi. And at once, everybody erupted.
"How could he have found out?"
"Weren't we careful?"
"Our perfect disguise!"
"Has he told anyone?"
"Did someone tell him?"
"When did this happen?"
"It's because you guys are idiots!" Haruhi shouted through the din, silencing them instantly. She sighed again, aggravated. "Don't you guys remember when we went to his family beach house, and my dad repacked all my clothes to be dresses and nightgowns? You weren't very careful about treating me like a girl there, were you?"
There was another profound silence as each of them brought the memory to mind.
"…Yeah, I think I managed to forget he was there," Hikaru admitted.
"We were trying to forget him, remember? It made the trip better," Kaoru reminded him.
"Oh yeah. Well I guess that was the problem."
"But this solves our dilemma, doesn't it?" Tamaki perked again, becoming excited. "If Nekozawa knows, Haruhi can wear a dress to the party!"
"Granted I'm all for that," Kaoru began skeptically, "I feel like that's not our biggest concern."
"But if Nekozawa found out back then, and it's not a school-wide fact by now, it must be pretty obvious that he hasn't told anyone!" Tamaki argued. "I bet he's pretty good at keeping secrets, anyhow."
"I dunno," Hikaru considered. "Kyouya, how did you find out he knew, anyhow? And why didn't you tell us before?"
"It only recently came to my attention," Kyouya replied. "And Tamaki is right- I highly doubt he's going to tell anyone."
As he spoke, he turned a dark eye towards Haruhi, a wry smirk faint on his lips. Haruhi was unable to decipher it's meaning, but it made her shiver.
"Besides," he added, "I meant this to be a solution. Now you can dress her in whatever you like."
He smiled, and Haruhi knew that for some reason, he was punishing her.
Having had their worries assuaged by Kyouya, the vice president's permission was all the Host Club needed to decide it was safe, and they all grinned again, anxious to dress poor Haruhi up. A heavy hearted groan escaped her as she admitted defeat, and allowed herself to be pushed into the practice room with the white dress.
"If you need help zipping up the back, let us know!" Kaoru called after her with a grin. Just then, Tamaki remembered something.
"Haruhi!" He called through the door, "While you're changing, tell me about the party games!"