Author's note: I apologize for the confusion about the 'four chapters' thing. Let me explain.
Every story I write, I write by hand. I need to feel a connection to my thoughts, my words, the images I try to portray. I can't seem to achieve that connection when using a keyboard - I've tried. It kind of sucks. Like, big, hairy pickle suckage. Very rarely can I just sit down and start typing. But give me a pen and paper and I can knock out a hundred thousand words without batting an eye, and it's fairly decent stuff to my mind (though I leave you all to gauge the quality of my work for yourselves. I'm not that egotistical.). So every story I have ever posted here, everything I have up at Fiction Press (though there are only two there at the moment) - every single one of them is hand-written first. You have no idea the number of spiral notebooks I go through in a month.
When talking about Strange Paths, there's a bit of background here. I started this story well over a year ago. I was sitting at work on lunch and the idea began to take shape around my bites of pepperoni and potato chips. So I grabbed a fresh notebook and began writing. I filled a three-subject notebook with a tale of the Host Club, its friendships and hardships and relationships. And after filling the notebook up, I brought it home to review and re-read it...never got the chance to look over it...put it somewhere safe while moving the stuff off my desk to make room for my 20g aquarium...and somehow lost it in the process. That was in September. In January, while looking for an old bank statement, I found this slightly battered green notebook, and squee'd loudly in happiness. Thus I found Strange Paths again, and have been dutifully editing, typing, and posting as I can.
I only have four chapters remaining to type up from the original notebook. This is not by any means the end of the story - it's just where I ran out of paper. Since then I have a new notebook, and have written much more, and I can assure you all this story is far from over. But I'm approaching the completion of the first notebook, and it's making me feel a bit nostalgic, remembering how it all got started and how worried I was when it disappeared. So, no, there are WAY more than four chapters to go. My darlings, you don't have to despair! I shall not leave you all hanging!
Actually, as I'm posting a chapter right now, I believe that means there are only three more to go before I can file this green notebook in my cabinet with its brethren, and concentrate fully on the orange notebook I have since been writing in. *grins* Enjoy!
She yawned and stretched, feeling quite rested despite – perhaps because of? - the dreams that had caressed her sleeping mind. The morning had well and truly dawned, the pink of sunrise nowhere to be found when she crawled from her sleeping bag and stepped out of the tent. The sand beneath her bare feet was mildly dew-damp, the coolness on her soles starting to wake her with gentle insistence. The morning air was clean, a difference she'd not been able to appreciate fully on her arrival the day before. Her internal clock told her it was near seven thirty, maybe eight in the morning. After a moment she made the deliberate choice to ignore it. Today was her first full day in this corner of paradise – time had no place here. She stretched fully this time, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. She realized she was truly looking forward to her day for the first time in a long time.
Breakfast was simple – some granola bars and a couple cups of warm green tea, compliments of her campfire and the wonderful teapot her boys had convinced her to get. She cleaned up afterward and ducked back into the tent to change into her clothing for the day. Her shorts – not denim this time, but a comfortable cotton – were a deep green color, and her sleeveless shirt was just as cozy, the cream-colored button-up a favorite top she rarely wore by itself as the neckline was more low cut than she normally would have felt comfortable wearing without another shirt beneath it. Today, though, she could already feel the promise of the sun's heat, and as the only people she might see were her friends she figured she'd be far less likely to overheat if she kept her clothing to one layer. After wiping the sand from her skin the night before, she'd wrapped her hair in a t-shirt and tied it tightly, too tired to deal with it then. Now, however, she grabbed a cup in one hand and her specially purchased biodegradable shampoo in the other, walking towards the stream and mentally thanking the salesclerk Megumi for recommending the soap. Heading a ways downstream fro her camp, she found a likely place where the water flowed a little deeper and knelt on the ground. She unwrapped the shirt from her head, laughing lightly when she shook her hair and watched the sand snow down onto the ground.
"It looks like I was tunneling under the beach," she muttered to herself as she dropped to her stomach and dunked her head in the flowing water. The coldness finished the job of waking her up and she quickly scrubbed the soap into her hair, thankful yet again that she kept it short. It was the work of only a few minutes to get all the sand out, but she rinsed it carefully twice more just to make sure, knowing how uncomfortable it could be if there was any left to irritate her scalp. She had a flashback to a memory of the last time she'd been camping when she was little. She'd been playing and ended up with so much mud covering her that it took both of her parents to get her clean again. In the process her father had ended up wearing a lot of the mud himself, and her mother had laughed until she cried, causing little Haruhi to break into giggles as well. Her dad had pretended hurt feelings until his wife stood to apologize. The sneak attack he launched was simple – he dragged her into his arms for a kiss, in the process smearing a good portion of the mud onto her as well. Haruhi remembered thinking it was the funniest thing ever – she was clean, but Mommy and Daddy were muddy. It was a good memory; bittersweet, but then all of the ones concerning her mother were. She still wouldn't trade them for anything. Her parents had been so much in love – even their young child could see it clearly. She knew her father still cried sometimes. He never did while she was in the vicinity, but occasionally when she would be laying in bed at night, unable to sleep, she could hear him in his room and it broke her heart.
Finished with her hair she walked back to her camp, her mood decidedly melancholy. She was trying to avoid thinking of the future – she didn't want to imagine how empty her life would be without her father. It had been hard enough to cope with losing her mother, and she'd been much younger then. Shaking herself she decided she would not dwell on the negatives, not today. The sky was clear, the air was fresh, and she was safe within one of the most amazing places she'd ever seen, with her friends a short distance away – even though they were keeping their distance, it was still a comfort knowing they were there. Today she would enjoy all of the good things in her life.
From the beach she heard a familiar voice cajoling everyone awake and it made her grin. Sometime later she would sneak down and see what new dimension of absurdity Tamaki had planned for the others. A memory of Mori on his surfboard, solid and steady and gleaming in the setting sun, flashed through her mind and she smirked.
If all of Tamaki's ideas involved views like that, she might just make a habit of spying on them more often.
A slightly disheveled Host King called out loudly, trusting in his volume to summon his fellow hosts to the beach. He'd not bothered to wake Kyoya...it had been tricky enough to slip out of his vise-like embrace as it was. He saw Mori exit his cabin sans Honey and nodded to the tall boy in shared understanding. He knew the oldest host had likely been up long before daybreak meditating and exercising, and figured he'd just gone back to sleep so he could wake later for the main activities of the day. As Mori came to stand near him, Tamaki saw the door to the third cabin open to permit the amber-eyed devils to wander out hand-in-hand. The Host King had a moment of recall, flashing back to their teasing offer to let him watch them make out and he could feel himself blush. He had to admit it would be quite a sight – then wondered where his new-found acceptance came from. By that point the twins had reached him as well and ha managed (with no little effort) to halt his Mind Theatre before the images could get too involved.
"I thought perhaps we could all eat breakfast together," he said, smiling. The brothers looked around.
"Decided not to wake up Honey-senpai and Kyoya-senpai?" they asked. Tamaki just arched an eyebrow. They nodded. "Right."
"So, since I'm not...well, I'm not very good at cooking breakfast, I took the liberty of having the cook make some no-preparation-necessary foods for us to eat." He waved proudly at the large cooler he'd brought out with him, missing the thankful looks the Hitachiins shared. Before long the quartet was sitting comfortably on the sand munching on iced fruit salads, delectable yogurt parfaits with homemade granola crumble, and chunks of sweet glazed meats and creamy cheeses.
"So what are we doing today?" Kaoru asked during a lull in the meal.
"Well, this afternoon I've got a special activity planned, but this morning I thought I'd see what everyone else wanted to do." His companions gaped at him – rather, the twins gaped. Mori simply regarded him silently. "What?" Tamaki asked.
"You usually have every minute of every day planned," Hikaru pointed out. The blond looked down at his plate in a rare show of self-consciousness.
"Yes, well...I'm trying to be more open minded and cognizant of what other people want and need," he murmured. No one needed an explanation. The all understood he wasn't just talking about the Host Club vacations. No one quite knew what to say, though, so they returned to eating their morning meal.
"We could always just...play," Kaoru offered hesitantly. Three sets of eyes turned to him and he cleared his throat.
"Play what?" the princely one asked curiously. The younger twin shrugged.
"I dunno. I kind of brought a Frisbee with me, and a volleyball – not sure why I did, but they're here. And I got to thinking, how long has it been since any of us really just relaxed? Messed around because we could?" He could see the thoughtful agreement in Hikaru's eyes, the dawning excitement in Tamaki's. He even thought he might be glimpsing a tiny smile beginning to curve Mori's lips.
"You could be right, Kao," his mirror said with a growing grin. "When was the last time we just goofed off and had fun?"
"Then it's settled!" the Host King said brightly. "Hikaru, Kaoru – you're in charge of bringing your toys!" Amber eyes blinked once at each other before widening mischievously and Tamaki turned a light shade of pink as he realized that he probably should have phrased that sentence less suggestively. "I meant the Frisbee and the volleyball!" he yelped, causing his two tormenters to laugh.
"Of course," they said. "What else would you be talking about? Unless...Boss, why are you blushing?" Their unified teasing had the amusing effect of making the blond flush more deeply but he didn't seem to have a comeback, so he settled for growling 'shush, you devils,' before turning to Mori.
"I'm going to wake Kyoya. Mori-senpai, you work on waking Honey-senpai. We'll all meet back out here in, say, an hour?" The tall host nodded and stood, carrying his disposable dishes to the large trash bag Tamaki had placed nearby before walking back to his cabin. The twins and Tamaki were left just looking at one another, everyone having something to say but knowing that now was not the time or place. Almost in unison the three stood up, disposing of their own plates and cutlery.
"So...back here, one hour," Tamaki said quietly.
"Sure thing," they replied. One more brief moment of silence descended before the boys split up, the redheads walking back to their cabin while the Host King returned to his own, debating internally as to what would be the easiest way to wake his lover without being destroyed or dismantled in the process.
Honey was already dressed when his cousin came back from breakfast.
"So what does Tama-chan have planned for us?" he asked cheerfully.
"Kaoru suggested Frisbee."
"Really?" the diminutive blond asked. Mori nodded. "That could be really fun! Yay!" He turned serious for a moment. "I'm going to see if I can talk to Kyoya today."
"Hn."
"I hope we can figure something out. Haruhi's been through so much already." He didn't seem to notice he'd slipped out of cutesy mode, so deep in thought was he. "If nothing else, I know Kyoya should be able to get us some more information on the entire situation." Nothing else needed said, and the cousins spent the rest of the morning relaxing quietly before rejoining the others.
He gazed down at the sleeping brunette, a loving smile on his features as he watched Kyoya sleep. He looks so peaceful, Tamaki thought, almost reluctant to disturb the quiet, restful boy on the bed. Still, if he wanted to meet everyone at the time they'd agreed on, he really had to wake his sleeping beauty. His eyes lit up as the whimsical thought gave him an idea. Striding over to the bed he sat down beside the Shadow King and gently traced his hand over his cheek. Kyoya murmured something unintelligible but otherwise didn't respond. Smiling still, the blond leaned down and ever-so-softly kissed the slumbering host's lips. After a brief moment he felt Kyoya – apparently still sleeping – begin to kiss him back. Enjoying the contact and letting himself drift in the warmth of the kiss, the princely one was shocked into a gasp as two hands clamped down on his shoulders, flipping him over Kyoya's prone body and onto the mattress on his back. Startled, he looked up into the now completely alert eyes of his lover.
"Morning," he whispered, loving the feel of Kyoya's morning wood pressing into his leg as the black-haired one pinned him to the bed. The response was swift and satisfactory – instead of answering the brunette simply closed the distance and resumed their kiss. It wasn't until several minutes later that he actually spoke, the morning roughness of his voice sending a tingle down the blond's spine.
"Is this how you plan to wake me up from now on?" he rasped.
"Depends. Do you object?" Tamaki asked wickedly. Kyoya ground himself across the Host King's thigh.
"Does this feel like an objection?" The blond shook his head. "How long do we have before we meet the others outside?" Violet eyes glanced at the clock.
"About 45 minutes."
"Good," Kyoya growled, shifting until the two of them were pressed firmly together. "That gives me enough time to see if I can make you whimper again."