The desolation in her eyes tore at Honey's heart. He knew, though, that she didn't need sympathy right that second. She needed someone to listen to her. He settled for leaning back against the well and holding her eyes with his own much like he continued to hold her hand.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly. Her nod was sad but firm.

"I've known for a while that something was wrong, but he would never say anything. He always blamed work or stress for being so tired, always changed the subject when I tried to talk him into seeing a doctor. Turned out he'd already been seeing one."

"How did you find out, if he didn't tell you?"

"He left his cell at home accidentally, and we have the same ringtone, so when I was studying I answered it by mistake. It was his doctor, calling with test results. I confronted him when he came home from the store – he admitted everything."

"What is it?"

"Cancer." Her monotone reply made him shiver. He saw her eyes, those beautiful sienna pools, glimmer in the moonlight and couldn't stop himself from pulling her into another hug. It turned out to be the right thing to do, if the way she clung to him was any indication. Her voice was muffled against his shoulder but he could still hear what she was saying.

"They don't hold much hope for treatments. It's progressed too far, too fast. The next day was when I blew up at Tamaki-senpai," she added in a soft undertone. Honey rubbed her back carefully, not certain what to say. He knew that he was going to bring this up with Kyoya, at least. If anyone could help, it would be the Ootori family and their cavalcade of medical professionals and researchers. He realized Haruhi was crying again, silent little tears dampening his shirt, the lack of sobbing somehow more painful than her earlier outburst. This time when she murmured he couldn't make out the words, only the tone of utter despair.

"What did you say, Haru-chan?" he whispered.

"First Mom, now Dad – I'm going to be all alone. I'm not strong enough for this." Honey's heart broke. Tears filling his own eyes, he moved his hands to her shoulders and pushed her gently until she sat up a little bit.

"Haru, look at me." She shook her head but he was gently insistent. "Look at me, please?" Finally she raised her head to meet his eyes and the anguish in her face dug into his soul with claws of steel. He swallowed hard but held her gaze.

"You will never be alone, Haruhi," he murmured. "You have so many people who care for you – so many people whose lives you've touched, who will be here for you always. You are so..." he paused, then continued, "...so very loved.

"And you don't have to be strong all the time. You don't have to carry this yourself. Don't try to be the rock all the time. Let us help. Let us be there for you, whatever you need. Let me be here, with you..." His voice trailed off as he was held captive by her pain and the depths of his own feelings for her. As if someone had slowed the world down, he felt himself leaning towards her, head tilting just so...he could feel her still shaky breaths puffing against his lips...

"Honey," she whispered, the sound full of longing – and he snapped out of the spell they'd woven together. Blinking quickly he changed trajectory and pressed his lips to her forehead, feeling her smooth skin as he kissed her gently. Pulling back he saw confusion and – was that disappointment? - etched on her delicate features and it nearly demolished his resolve.

"Honey-senpai?" she asked, eyes still wide and pleading. She leaned forward a little further but he simply touched his forehead to hers and stared into her eyes.

"I would love to kiss you, Haruhi," he murmured.

"So why didn't you?"

"Because," he said, taking a deep breath to steady himself, "this isn't what you really want right now. You've already had two kisses stolen today – I refuse to be the third." He knew he was right but it still caused a twinge of remorse when she closed her eyes in mute agreement.

"I'm sorry," she began, but he cut her off with a finger against her lips.

"Don't be. I'm your friend, Haruhi. I'll always be your friend, no matter what. And if someday you can look at me with certainty and know that this is what you want, I'll be more than happy to oblige." He smirked a bit, his expression so mischievous that Haruhi couldn't help but smile even as she felt her cheeks grow red. Honey smiled back, that honest, open smile she'd always loved that made her feel like everything was okay with the world.

"There's my Haru-chan," he said. "Feeling better now?" He squashed his own romantic feelings, knowing more than anything she needed his strength and some normalcy now. His patience was rewarded with a nod.

"I am, yes. Thank you, Honey-senpai."

"Mitsukuni," he replied. She blinked and blinked, but nodded again.

"Thank you, Mitsukuni."

"Anytime. And I really mean that, Haru." He slowly disentangled himself – as much as he hated losing her warmth – and stood up to offer her his hand. It took her a moment but with his help she finally stood, shaking out legs that had fallen asleep from being in one position for so long.

"Ready to go home?" he asked. He saw her take a long look around the grove before smiling a small smile.

"Almost." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a coin. "This is a wishing well, right?" He grabbed a coin from his own pocket and joined her at the side of the stone well.

"Yes, it is," he grinned.

"On three?" He nodded as she began to count.

"One...two...three!" Two coins, falling end over end, reflected what light there was until their journey ended with a simultaneous splash.

"What did you wish for, Haru-chan?"

"I can't tell you – it'll ruin the wish!" Her smile was genuine, and more free than he'd seen all evening, and he laughed with her.

"Let's get you home." The two walked hand in hand from the moon-swept clearing, leaving the night to guard the wishes and secrets therein.

"How did everything go so wrong?" he mused, speaking to his empty bedroom. "Oh, mother...how I wish I could talk to you. I'm so confused." Outside his room raged another battle between his father and his grandmother – one fought with low voices, words flung instead of javelins or punches, but a battle nonetheless. He'd ceased listening to their debates ages ago, resigning himself to being forever not good enough for his father's mother. That didn't mean it didn't hurt. With a sigh that was miles away from the over-dramatized tendencies he displayed in public he lay back on his mattress, cradling his head on his arms as he stared up at the dark blue canopy of his bed.

He'd hurt his friends, perhaps driven them away completely. Hikaru and Kaoru had no problems keeping everything and everyone at arms length, and he just handed them more reasons to shut him out than they had ever had before. And then there was Haruhi – somehow he'd angered his darling daughter. No, he thought. Here in his own mind she was simply Haruhi. He rolled over on his side, curling up slightly around one of his silk-covered pillows. Here he could admit how much he cared for him, here in the quiet of his own room with no one to judge or criticize. He chuckled ruefully. What would she say – she, who had no qualms about telling him regularly how egocentric and narcissistic he was – what would she say if she knew how very little regard he had for himself? Oh, he was an excellent actor, even he had to admit it. The Host Club King, the beautiful gentleman who could easily melt the coldest heart with a sideways glance and a secret smile...sometimes Tamaki wished he really were that person. Maybe then he wouldn't make the stupid mistakes he always seemed to make. Maybe then Haruhi...no, he couldn't even finish the thought in his head. He knew his Haruhi. If he were truly the superficial prince she would never waste a moment of her time on him. He sighed again, though unaware of it.

Haruhi. When he'd thought she was a boy he'd found her appealing. In his mind there was no gender-stigma. He probably would have tried to woo the honor student regardless. But when he stepped into the changing room that day and saw her in that flimsy camisole, the delicate line of her neck curving as she turned to face him, those honeybrown eyes filled with a mix of resignation and fear...his brain had shut down. It was her eyes. In that moment, that instant, he had fallen in love with the slender doe-eyed beauty. And in the next instant he knew he could never, would never act on it.

It was bad enough that he knew she would never reciprocate his feelings. But it tore him apart every time he watched her playing the part of a perfect host, or saw the twins flirting and cozying up to her. Seeing the way Honey utilized every ounce of cuteness to cuddle with her, the way she instinctively turned to Mori when she felt threatened. Hell, she had even captured Kyoya's attention, an ability a good portion of their clients would pay dearly to learn. It seemed she had a special affection for everyone. Everyone but him. Somehow no matter how he tried she seemed to see him as an annoyance at best. So he hid behind his fatherly role, playing it to the hilt, because to admit openly what he already acknowledged inwardly would be to invite ridicule from the others...and most likely pity from Haruhi. He closed his eyes, mildly disgusted with himself for being so weak. Still, since he was being honest with himself, he figured he may as well admit that he'd take her fond exasperation and occasional downright anger over the possibility of indifference or rejection any day.

The argument downstairs had escalated in volume and Tamaki rolled over and buried his head under his pillows. He wished, just once, that he wouldn't be the bone of contention between his father and grandmother. Was it any wonder that he felt far more comfortable, more at home with the Club than he ever felt at his own house? That he considered his friends to be far better family than his own blood relations? Abruptly his melancholy mind saw fit to remind him of the fact that his chosen family would be fracturing at the end of the school year when Honey and Mori graduated. And the following year it would fall apart more as he and Kyoya would be gone...no more Club...no more after-school camaraderie.

No more Haruhi.

With a muffled sob Tamaki pressed the pillows close to his face and cried.

Author's note: Just wanted to wish Sanna Rose happy birthday. So glad you're enjoying this little foray into the corner of my brain the Host Club uses for their playground. :-D