Author's Note: Hello there, my fellow readers! This next chapter is more of a filler chapter than an eventful one – but don't worry, the next one will be eventful, I promise! And I thought I did darn good on this one, so please review!

Disclaimer: Still don't own Ouran. :P

"Breathe me in, I'm yours to keep. And hold onto your words, cause talk is cheap – and remember me tonight when you're asleep. Because tonight will be the night that I will fall for you over again…" –Fall For You, Secondhand Serenade

Kyoya

Gardenias. That's what she smells like. Gardenias, with a hint of something fruity…pears? Peaches? Whatever it is, it's intoxicating. I passed by her earlier to grab my notebook and she tucked a strand of her light brown hair behind her ear, and I caught a whiff of it. That scent stopped me dead in my tracks. Then I remembered I had customers, so I pulled myself out of my reverie and went back to business.

And yet, even after that, I am haunted; and not just by her perfume. It's two o'clock in the morning and I can't sleep. My mind is a-flight, and yet my limbs seem made of lead. I close my eyes to see if they're still there. Sure enough, baby blue eyes appear behind my eyelids; her eyes – wide blue eyes with long lashes. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, but if that's true then her eyes have a high-grade security system with bars and locks more complicated than my home security system.

I press the palms of my hands to my eyes, groaning. Why does she constantly invade my thoughts, and in the most random times and places? I'm walking down a hallway, thinking about the Host Club when she just...comes into my head like a wrecking ball. (A/N: ugh, I can't even write "wrecking ball" without thinking of that stupid song…Great, now I have an image of Emi on a wrecking ball. Yuck.) It's so sudden that it makes me catch my breath and she doesn't leave for…I calculate in my head: exactly three and a half hours.

And the strange thing is, I like it.

The simple truth is that I'm captivated by her. I want to know more about her. I want to know why she has such sadness in her eyes; what in the world could a beautiful girl like her be sad about? She has such a down-to-earth personality that I've never seen in any of the other girls at Ouran. But then again, most of the girls at school are shallow, and I know Emiko is not shallow. She has a simple elegance, especially in her music. It's hard for me to believe that she wrote all those pieces herself. If Emiko told me she hadn't written them I would assume they'd be an unheard Mozart concerto.

The sound of the main garage door opening interrupts my thoughts. I sigh inwardly. My father is home late – again. Not that this surprises me at all. The door to the garage closes and I hear a long, frustrated sigh. He climbs up the stairs to the master bedroom, and I feel myself tense as he walks past my own door.

I want to open that door more than anything, to talk to him and have an actual conversation. An eloquent conversation, one that ends with a "goodnight, Father. Sleep well!" instead of screaming and tense jaws. I thought families were supposed to stick together, supposed to do things together. I barely talk to my family, and that's not exactly a choice. Well, part of it is and part of it isn't.

My eyelids grow heavy; she finally left my mind in peace for the time being. Before I fall asleep I grab my notebook out of my bag that's at the foot of my bed. I open to a crisp, blank page and take out my pen. I write down my new plan quickly before I fall asleep.

To Be Done: find out more about Miss Emiko Shizune. Could be great benefit.

As I lie back down in bed, a smile curves my lips. She could be a great benefit…for me.