Like a Rose

An Ouran High School Host Club Fanfiction

DISCLAIMER: I, EmbeRin, do not own any of Ouran High School Host Club, and never will.

She was like a rose.

The lord was sitting on a chair, idly admiring a nearby flower arrangement placed on a side table. He glanced at the individual flowers – a lily of the valley, a buttercup, a daisy, a carnation. They were all of various colours, arranged in a pattern that brought out the best of each flower. Then he noticed a flower in the middle.

It was a red rose in full bloom, the rest of the flowers cleverly hiding the thorns that belie the flower's beauty. The shapely petals formed a beautiful concentric pattern, a flawless design. Without even a single of those petals, the flower would lose its appeal. It was such a delicate balance that kept the rose beautiful.

He rummaged around in the vase, searching for the base of the rose. Blindly feeling along the stem, he ran into a thorn.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

The magic of the moment broken, the president of the Ouran Academy Host Club - Suoh Tamaki - was sent into convulsions and screaming over one tiny prick on his finger that had come from a rose. Sucking on his little finger, he wailed out loudly at regular intervals, which attracted the attention of the various other members of the host club.

Such was business as usual.

"'KAA-SAN! 'KAA-SAN! MY FINGER'S BLEEDING!" Tamaki cried. One would wonder how the other members survived such treatment on the ears day in, day out. However, it seemed to be an acquired resistance that soon turned Tamaki's whines into white noise, but they all knew someone had to shut him up.

"Milord," Hitachiin Hikaru began.

"Could you keep it down?" his twin, Hitachiin Kaoru, added.

"We're trying to do our homework," they finished.

Immediately, there was a change of mood in Tamaki. He scooted off to the nearest corner he could find and began sulking. Mutters of "no one cares about me" and "they're all mean" could be heard coming from him. But it was well known in the host club that sulking for Tamaki was as normal as breathing for others. It was in his nature.

"… since when did you do homework?" Fujioka Haruhi, who was sitting nearby, commented to the twins. "I'm in your class, and I don't remember ever seeing you two doing homework."

"No…" Both twins shrugged. "We have better things to do, but we needed some way to make him shut up," they finished in perfect synchronization.

Haruhi sighed. Rich people…

"In any case," Ohtori Kyoya commented as he looked up from his papers and computer. "All he's going to do is suck his finger. He has no common sense whatsoever – someone's going to have to treat that injury however minor it is." Having said his piece, he returned to documenting the group's budgets.

"I think Haru-chan could do it!" Haninozuka Mitsukuni spoke up. He then smiled, something that was quite disarming because of his loli-shota appearance. Haruhi sighed. She could start to see where this was going…

"Don't you think Haru-chan could go help Tama-chan, Takashi?" Hunny continued.

"Ah," Morinozuka Takashi said succinctly. Short and to the point was his thing.

"So…" Hikaru and Kaoru began, placing their hands on an unsuspecting victim's shoulders. Well, using the word 'unsuspecting' would be untrue now…

"Haruhi," Hikaru said.

"It's your job now," Kaoru continued.

"Why's it always my job?" Haruhi grumbled. However, she expected none other than the twins' standard way of making sure that their reasoning somehow got around to where they wanted it to be. Just because they couldn't be bothered… rich people…

"Because…" the twins said promptly.

"Never mind, I don't want to know," Haruhi said, holding up a hand and clutching her head. She walked over to where Tamaki was, still huddled in the corner, sucking on his bleeding finger.

Tamaki turned at the sound of Haruhi's approaching footsteps, raising his head slightly to see her face.

"Tamaki-senpai," Haruhi said, kneeling down so she could see Tamaki's finger. She held the finger in her hand softly, making Tamaki shudder. "Did you stab it on a rose?"

"Yes…" Tamaki sniffed. "It hurts."

Haruhi sighed. "I'm just going to wrap it in a cloth. I don't have any of that rich stuff, so you'll have to make do."

Tamaki nodded his head, like a ten year old boy would to his teacher.

Taking a handkerchief she had on her, Haruhi carefully wrapped it around Tamaki's finger, which still had red droplets bulging out of it. Tying it gently, she patted it once before getting up. Tamaki stared at the handkerchief. It was a rose floral pattern. How funny…

Sometimes, it still amazed Tamaki how observant and understanding Haruhi could be. She completely understood how everyone else behaved and got along with them all well. She could always, always tell the twins apart and had a mysterious way of capturing Kyoya's interest. Kyoya might have thought that he was blind, but Tamaki noticed these things. Especially when it concerned Haruhi, of course.

Equally surprising, though, was just how Haruhi was able to touch his heart.

He remembered when he had a dream about her that night, looking into what was then his perception of the commoner world. Of course, he had learned – the world of the commoners was one of low ceilings and random lightbulbs, a dimension so intangible to those up at the top of the societal hierarchy that it couldn't have even been imagined by them. That dream had made him dress for school on a Sunday. It was the first time he could have possibly forgotten it was a Sunday.

Who the heck forgets it's a Sunday? he had asked himself.

Of course, he did.

Haruhi had that taunting ability to make him shudder with every smile, every gaze. That innate jealousy he felt when her attentions were diverted from him – it may have seemed comical, but he meant every word when he would cry. Every facet of her, both physically and mentally, caught his interest, forming themselves into the entity known as Fujioka Haruhi.

But he was just worried for her. He was her father – it was a natural feeling, right? She even said he was like her dad.

So then why did it feel so strange when she didn't look his way? Fathers had to let go of their daughters some time or later…

"You know, Tamaki-senpai…"

They were away from the group, though Tamaki could hear the Hitachiin brothers getting impatient. Was Haruhi going to say something? He got up slowly so that he once again looked down on her, their heads a foot away from each other. Maybe he could lean a little closer? And closer?

"… I still can't believe you don't know how to bandage your own finger."

Instinctively Tamaki crouched in the corner again. In the distance he could hear Haruhi walking back to the rest of the group. The Third Music Room was pretty big, after all. He only wished that he had done something, that maybe he had pulled off one of his moves.

But of course, he didn't. They wouldn't work on Haruhi.

"Haru-chan, you just made him sulk again!" Hunny complained, pointing to his fellow blond, who at the moment was occupied with sulking. "You're not going to say sorry?" He danced around Haruhi, flower-bombing her with his cuteness. Sadly, it was starting to work. Haruhi honestly thought that tears from Hunny often worked better than from Tamaki.

"Mitsukuni."

"Eh?" Hunny stopped mid-dance at Mori's call.

"Leave them be. It'll be all right," Mori continued.

"… oh…okay!" It seemed like Hunny had been struck with the smartest idea in the world, courtesy of Mori. Haruhi, however, still didn't have a clue.

"Mori-senpai… what does that mean?" she asked.

A rare smile passed the tall, taciturn third-year's face.

"You'll get it soon enough. It's right in front of your eyes."

Mori promptly returned to reading a book while Hunny devoured cake. Haruhi left the two to their own musings, but when she was gone, Hunny lowered his fork.

"It's kind of hard to believe she doesn't see it," he mused. "Do you think she knows about Tama-chan? Or Hika-chan, even?"

"Who knows?" was the reply from behind the book. "Why did you pick Tamaki, anyways?"

"I thought he'd need the help the most." Hunny smiled.

Tamaki had never realized fully exactly why he had loved roses.

He used to think it was for their luscious red colour, but then he found out they came in different colours.

He used to think it was because it had so many concentric, curled up petals, but then he found out that other flowers did that too.

So why? Was it because those thorns were there?

Was that what made a rose a rose?

Were those odd quirks what made Haruhi Haruhi?

The thought of her leaving the Host Club some day made him tear up, but that was natural, wasn't it? Over the period of time the whole group had spent with Haruhi, they grew to realize that she was something that made their lives that much more… vibrant.

But thinking about how Haruhi would be spending one more year with the twins while he was off to university or wherever he was destined to go, that made him sad. Maybe not sad… incensed? Defeated?

Tamaki recognized the emotions, but he was never able to put feeling with reason.

He was her father. Okay, maybe not her real father, but her father in spirit. A foolish father, one who was reckless, but there was nothing wrong with that. Experiences with Ranka told him that Haruhi was perfectly fine with those things.

Every father sees his daughter leave her - for school, for dates, for university, for her own life. But he shouldn't feel jealous that someone else is in her life. Shouldn't he be happy? Why is it that every time she'd go off with Hikaru, something vicious would make Tamaki chase after them? Why is it that every time she'd groan at Kyoya about the debt she owed, Tamaki would feel like she should be talking to him? What was it that made him so angry? What was making him so… envious?

Envious? What am I envious of? I have the perfect family. There's no need to be envious.

Still… something bothers me… what is this possessiveness I feel?

"Tamaki-senpai!" Haruhi's voice called out.

"Yes?"

"… the host club's open, you know. You have a long list today…"

There were still some thorns, some things to smooth out, both with Haruhi and himself. However, every rose has its time to bloom. Maybe Haruhi had. And maybe it was time to let her. But Tamaki felt that he would soon blossom, too, and be able to catch up with his elusive rose.

On the request of my friend, I posted this up. This is actually the second of two versions of the story I wrote. While the difference only lies in the last segment, it can give two different feelings from the story. For some reason, I was displeased with the first and wrote the second, but it seems kind of detached somehow. Well, I gave it a shot. It's kind of hard to pull off a Tamaki because now I feel like it doesn't sound like Tamaki speaking... oh well.

-EmbeRin