Warning: Slight OOCness?

Pairing: Haruhi/ Tamaki/ OC, very minor Kyouya/Renge, but only because I couldn't think of any other couple.

Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club. If I did, I'd write myself into the story as the wife of Tamaki. Or maybe Kyouya. Or Kaoru? Oh, I'd just have an affair with all of them! But in the end I'd be with Tamaki. Definitely. But I do own my OC, Mana.

A/N: This takes place after they've all graduated, just in case you couldn't figure that out. And this has nothing to do with the story, but, am I like the only person who doesn't hate Éclair? She's not my favorite person in Ouran or anything, but I don't think she's that bad of character, personally. Anyway… on with the story! R&R please!

Forever, I Promise

By: CelestialIllusion

"Forever, I promise," he had said. She now wonders if it is the first lie he has ever told.

i. Piano Music

The air is crisp and the stars are shining as she opens the door. Stepping outside into her absurdly large backyard, she begins to walk until Tamaki is in sight. She smiles at the young man, whose fingers hover motionless above the piano keys.

("Wouldn't it be so romantic to place a grand piano outside, surrounded by flowers and a roof above it supported by pillars?" She had once asked. Her architectural ideas always were out of the ordinary, but somehow they had all managed to make it into her magnificently big home, or rather, Suoh mansion number three.)

She walks until she is standing ten feet behind him. "Won't you play something for me, Tamaki?" Her voice sounds mellifluous, and she pauses before saying his name.

"Go to sleep, Mana." It is exactly what it sounds like: a demand, but he says it kindly and with a smile. She closes the gap between them and ends up standing directly behind him. Bending down slightly, she wraps her arms around his neck.

"Just one song, Tamaki," she requests. She has a habit of saying his name after almost all her sentences.

Her warm breath sends shivers down his spine. "You have work tomorrow," he reminds her; it is just another way of telling her to go to bed.

She feigns indifference to his decision not to play for her by smiling as she lets go of him, sighs, and walks back inside. She was never really good at the art of deception.

Reaching her room, the young girl begins to hear the faint sound of piano music through her bedroom window. Lying down on her bed and pulling the red and gold silk sheets over her thin body, she begins to wonder when it was exactly that he had started refusing to play in her presence, but she soon realizes that she had never even noticed it until tonight.

Closing her eyes, she becomes aware of how she had forgotten how beautiful his piano playing actually was.

ii. Hold Me Tight

"You look beautiful in red," he comments, complimenting her tight-fitting red shirt, which she wore under a black blazer. The whole outfit is from Paris, a place they visit together at least once a year.

She looks over at him, expecting him to be looking at her with gentle admiration as he often did when they first met, but he merely looks distracted and detached.

"Thank you," she says, half-heartedly.

"You're welcome."

Together they walk to the breakfast table, she a few mere steps behind he, and they sit down just as the maids start to serve them a three-course meal.

"I'll be late home tonight," he mentions, "probably after you've already gone to bed. So please, don't stay up and wait for me."

This is an odd occurrence, for he was never one of those people whom came home late every night, prioritizing his job above his personal life. He was a boyfriend before a business man, just like he was Tamaki before he was a Suoh.

"Okay," she says simply, for her head isn't really in the conversation. Standing up and leaving the maids to clear the table, she heads toward the door.

"Mana, I'll walk you out," he offers. He was always such a gentleman.

Side by side they walk to the car, a BMW he had given her for her birthday a couple years ago. She bumps into him slightly, and mumbles an apology before opening the car door.

Before getting in, she turns around and smiles at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a light peck on the lips. He kisses her in return (his lips are so soft, tasting of the strawberry he had ate a few minutes ago), but then simply pats her on the pack twice and slips away from her grasp.

She watches Tamaki's back as he returns to the interior of their home, and a small frown plays on her lips as her eyes follow his retreating form. Getting into the drivers seat, she closes the door before driving off into the distance. She suddenly remembers that it has been weeks (or was it months? She doesn't know) since he had last held her in his arms.

She doesn't smile for the rest of the day.

iii. Lightning

Haruhi Fujioka came into the host club member's lives like a flash of lighting (ironically, the very thing she was afraid of), unexpected and with a boom. She had made a world of difference, and because of her, they had all been changed for the better.

The first time Mana had met her, she didn't see what was so great about the boy, or rather, girl, which she had soon discovered. Haruhi was incredibly perceptive, but was it really that rare of a trait? Nevertheless, she had introduced herself politely and with a smile, just the way she had been raised.

Mana soon grew to understand the impact that Haruhi had everyone in the club, and the way she had changed their views of the world. Yet she still couldn't see what it was that the girl possessed that allowed her to make such an impression. After all, the girl hadn't changed Mana at all.

She had probably affected the twins the most (or perhaps it was Kyouya who had been changed the most), but all Mana could think about was how she changed Tamaki, or better yet, the way he acted when she was around. Mana had long noticed how every now and then, his eyes had glowed with an ignorant happiness that she had thought only children could possess, but it was a while before she realized that it only happened when Haruhi was in the room.

And although she pushed the thought away whenever it would arise in her mind, she couldn't help but notice the way Tamaki was happiest when that Fujioka girl was there.

iv. Californian Girl

The honking of a car horn pierces through the peaceful silence of the early morning. "Let's go!" Mana yells, despite the fact that she knows the walls of the mansion are completely sound proof.

A young man—half Japanese and half French—comes running out of the front door, spotting a smiling girl sitting in the driver's seat of a top-of-the-line Mercedes convertible (his car, he noted). The female wears a simple, white summer dress; her hair blows in the breeze and a pair of one hundred and fifty dollar flip-flops rests on the passenger seat beside her.

She must be driving barefoot, Tamaki thinks.

The young lady smiles, and looks as if she is about to laugh for no reason in particular. Her overall appearance seems to scream California, a place all the way across the sea. Although she is and can speak fluent Japanese, and lives in Japan now, she had been raised in Los Angeles for most of her teenage years, and with just one look at her, you can tell that her heart had never really left.

Tamaki had met her there while he was on a two week vacation in LA, and he is arguably the reason she had returned to her home country.

The boy gets into the car, moving the shoes out of the way as he sits down. "Ready?" he asks with a soft smile on his face as he buckles his seat belt. The girl beside him gives an abrupt nod before looking forward and slamming on the accelerator.

The car lurches forward and plummets down the empty street at a steady sixty miles per hour. The sun has barely risen and it seems as if no one in the whole world is awake yet, besides the two of them.

The atmosphere is shrouded in silence; Tamaki glances at Mana every few minutes, but her eyes never waver from the road.

"What's wrong?" he asks. People often mistake Tamaki for an ignorant idiot, and although he is one sometimes, at other moments he can be incredibly perceptive.

"You're never this quiet," he says, but they both knew it was a lie. Shyness is one of her traits, and it is rare that she is the one who starts a conversation. Tamaki merely needs a reason to explain why he thinks something is bothering her, but there is no real explanation—besides the fact that somehow he just knows.

"Nothing," she replies—the classic answer.

Tamaki makes no move to respond. Silence can often be a force more powerful than simple words.

Many minutes pass before she finally speaks. "Fine," she sighs, the awkwardness of the situation overwhelming her. "Does Haruhi mean a lot to you?" Mana is often direct when she is nervous.

He stares at her before letting out a gentle laugh. "So that's what's been bothering you." Tamaki leans over, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. "She's just a friend, a close one, but nothing more," he insists. "You know you're the only girl for me…"

He pulls out a red rose out of thin air (where the hell did he get that?) and hands it to the girl beside him. "The way your eyes sparkle, the way you play with your hair when you're nervous, the beautiful way in which you smile… I don't notice that on anyone but you. I love you and everything about you and I always will. You're perfect and I don't think I've ever met someone who is nearly as amazing as you are."

Tamaki's lips meet her for a fleeting moment before he returns to his normal sitting position. She's smiling; he can tell…

But she's not happy. She's not reassured. He had whispered sweet nothings into her ear, had become prince charming and made her his princess…

Just like he does with every girl he meets. He doesn't act like they're best friends—the way he acts towards girls he truly loves. They're relationship is no longer unique, special, intimate.

He's becoming her knight in shining armor and that scares her more than anything.

Mana shakes her head so that her hair falls in a way that blocks Tamaki's view of her face. A single tear trickles down her cheek as she whispers, "I'm losing him…"

"What did you say?" he asks.

She inconspicuously wipes away the tear before turning to him with a large smile, "Nothing, really."

Unlike Mana, Tamaki is reassured.

v. Forever and Ever

"I, Tamaki Suoh, would like to welcome you to this ball in celebration of the engagement of Ohtori Kyouya and Houshakuji Renge."

Loud clapping echoed throughout the magnificently decorated ballroom. Royal purple and glittering gold streamers decorated the room, which was filled with tables containing sparkling crystal cups with genuine gold outlining along the top—only the best for the rich and famous.

Soft chattering filled the room as couples poured onto the dance floor.

"May I have the honor of dancing with you, my beautiful lady?" Tamaki stood there like a prince, his hand out, and a charming smile upon his face.

"Of course," she smiles, placing her hand tenderly in his. He leads her to the very center of the dance floor and wraps his arm around her waist, as she wraps hers around his neck. The music plays softly in the background as Mana rests her head gingerly upon his chest. She's a good foot shorter than him but their bodies mold together perfectly.

"I love you," she says, barely audibly.

"I love you, too," he whispers into her ear.

The song ends, all too soon; the perfect moment seems to disappear into thin air, leaving nothing but a trace of a memory.

"Would you like some wine?" he asks. She nods. "I'll be right back."

The girl walks absent-mindedly off the floor, and takes a seat at the table reserved especially for the host and his guest. Her fingers tap the table repeatedly; she stares into space, inattentively.

"It's nice to see you again," a voice rings in her ears. Looking up she sees a man with black hair and glasses, a smile on his face. (One must have a good relationship with a person who will most likely be the newest addition to the Suoh family if you want to gain anything in the future.) Kyouya.

Mana stands up quickly, but with grace, and gives him a simple "congratulations."

"How have you been doing?"

"I've been great," she lies.

"And Tamaki?" he asks.

"Just wonderful," she replies.

Kyouya tells Mana to give his thanks to Tamaki for hosting the celebration. "I will," she says as he leaves her to meet his fiancé.

Mana sits down, her eyes scanning the room warily and thoughtlessly before they come to rest on a brunette girl and blonde boy. They're dancing. They're smiling. They're happy.

Mana feels as if she's losing her mind.

Tamaki and Haruhi dance with such a grace that no one else in the room can possess. Their bodies move back and forth with elegance; their arms are wrapped tightly around each other.

Tamaki's eyes sparkle and glow in a way that Mana hasn't seen for months. His smile reaches his eyes; he looks happier than he's been for quite a while.

Mana realizes that for the past year she's been holding onto Tamaki for dear life, desperately clinging onto him as if letting go would ensure her death.

She watches as he holds her close; they're no longer dancing, but rather holding each other with such stillness that it looks more like a photograph than real life.

They're hugging, not kissing, because Tamaki wouldn't do that to her—but she knows he wants to. He wants to more than anything else in the world. She knows this completely, definitely, and without an ounce of doubt.

And with that thought, she realizes her grip has loosened, and he's finally slipped away. It was inevitable, but her constant denial made the impact of the realization so much greater than it should have been.

She pushes her chair back as she stands up and walks swiftly towards the exit.

It's raining outside, and the thin fabric of her red dress is drenched; she shivers. Walking steadily forward, she eventually reaches a grand piano. She lets out a coarse laugh at the stupidity of her idea of putting a piano outside. She pushes a random key (it sounds so beautiful) before walking to the other side, placing her forearms on the piano, and her head upon her arms.

Her eyes close and she remembers what happened exactly a year ago. It was raining that day too, but unlike today, she wasn't cold, for her body had been merged with Tamaki's, and his warmth and scent filled her senses. They had stood under the stars in a never ending field, a place only Tamaki knew of. It was his special place, he had told her, and he had been waiting all his life for the perfect girl to bring there. They had stood with their eyes locked and their hands together; their lips were mere inches away from each other, and she could feel his breath of her cheek. He whispers into her ear.

"Forever, I promise," he had said. She now wonders if it is the first lie he has ever told.