Of Brothers and Sisters

A One-shot concerning the lost family members of the Host Club, and their thoughts on our heroes

Fuyumi sat restlessly on the edge of the bathtub, drumming her fingers on the cool ceramic edge, waiting. She had not yet bathed today, and so there was no risk of wetting her clothes. At least if she had got water on her clothes she would have found a way to kill a few minutes changing. It would have been preferable to waiting here alone.

She was alone, on this occasion. The household staff knew their mistress well, and that, in the listless hours that her husband was working, she often liked to stop and chat. But not when she was in the downstairs bathroom. There, she was not to be disturbed. It was her thinking place, sitting there on the edge of her bathtub that might as well have been a pool.

Fuyumi sighed, eyes straying to the mobile she'd left on the ceramic tiles of the window sill. She wondered if he'd phone today, but decided he probably wouldn't. He hadn't phoned for the last two weeks, now, and when he had he'd sounded endlessly aggravated. She often considered phoning him, but couldn't cope with the thought he'd be too busy to speak to her.

She continued waiting, and the phone did not ring.

Instead, she looked around the room, more specifically at the things hung on the walls. Art pieces, mostly, nice pastel, painted images of ships and shells and seas and harbours, gulls flying above cliff tops. There too was a photograph of a place reasonably far from any ocean, in front of large gates and an even larger building, but she loved that picture the most. She loved it, because she loved the people in it. She was there, aged about fourteen, and her brothers with her. Nii-san at one end, sixteen, with a charismatic smile she hadn't seen for years. Akito, as always, was next to him- the six years age difference had not stopped Akito following him like a shadow most of his childhood. He stood tall and proud next to his brother, looking almost a man already. In contrast, the boy next to him could have been nothing but a boy, however desperately he even then wanted to grow up. Kyouya, four years old, trying to look as if he was as close to the other two boys as they were to each other and not quite managing it. Still, he was smiling a genuine smile, the excitement of his first visit to London shyly emerging in his eyes, in the tug of that frozen expression.

The picture, and the memory, made Fuyumi's own lips curve upwards a little wistfully. There was a reason her smile in the frame seemed a little disgruntled at the end of the row. The picture had been taken outside the gates of Buckingham Palace, which her four year old brother had just informed her was not the Taj Mahal.

Of course she had known that. She had merely been trying to tease him, and he'd somehow turned it back on her. She had not been too happy about being outwitted by a four year old. Yet, even then, she had seen the humour in the situation- and she'd been so proud of him for being so smart. It was no secret that she had always doted on her baby brother.

It hadn't always been that way, naturally. Fuyumi could remember her early childhood, hazy, blurry memories of when it had just been her and Nii-san. Her parents had been pleased to have their second child be a girl. It was the perfect family. A son to inherit, and a daughter to strengthen business bonds through marriage. Yes, she had always known that was her purpose, even as a child. Not in those first memories though. In those very first memories, she remembered Nii-san, just two years older then her, showing her a cricket he'd found in the back garden and explaining how it made such a funny noise. She'd begged to hold it, but her babyish hands couldn't cope, she didn't like the feel of it's legs. The cricket had hopped away from her and into the house and somehow into the arm of a business' associate's scardey-cat child. Nii-san had always said that's why he didn't play with her.

That had worried her. She knew Nii-san would inherit the company some day, and she would have to be his second-in-command; but how could she if he wouldn't play for any length of time with her?

And then Akito. She'd liked him at first, too, had always played with him even when he was a baby and not doing anything interesting. She'd blown bubbles for him and taught him pat-a-cake. But Akito grew quickly, and then he took to following Nii-san around. His position for the rest of his life, really. As he got older, he wanted to play at boy's games with other boys. Besides, it was now clear that he, and not his elder sister, would now get to be second in command. What a relief it must have been for her parents- now they had a first son to inherit, a second son to work as his right hand man, and a daughter who they could now concentrate on finding a suitable match for.

Yet, then Kyouya was born. She remembered the day she'd met him. They'd been taken to the hospital by some sort of au pair. He had been born a little underweight, so, as a just in case measure, they'd put him in an incubator. A goldfish bowl. Preparation for his life under scrutiny, perhaps. She remembered peering down at him, with the wisdom of her decade of life, and suddenly becoming acutely aware of his situation. He wasn't aware of it yet- he wasn't aware of much at that point. But she knew, just as she always had. She had always been very aware of her circumstances and those of the people around her.

The first son would inherit. The second son would help him. In this traditional, old-fashioned business world, there was even a space for a daughter. But there was no room, no prepared role, for a third son. He was a dark horse, unexpected, upsetting the balance of a perfect business family.

Her love for him was somehow much fiercer when she realised this. For some reason, that realisation made her realise how she was very much in the same boat. He'd been pushed out of a chance for inheritance because of the time of his birth. She'd been pushed out because of her gender. Still, her life would be worked out for her. He'd be facing it almost alone.

A determination had gripped her then, to not let him face the challenges totally alone. The Third Son. Kyouya, her mom said they were going to call him. Her baby brother.

So, she had always been aware of Kyouya's situation in life. Yet, she couldn't ever forget the day he'd realised it- if he hadn't always known too. He was three years old at the time, and had been sitting on his bed, practising reading, when she'd dashed into his room.

"Nee-chan." He'd frowned, pointing at a word with far too many syllables. "What does this say?"

"Never mind that!" She tugged at his hand. "Come on, Kyou, it's time to go! We're all waiting for you."

"I'm not going." He said, as though it were obvious.

"What? Why not?"

"I don't want to. Besides, I'm not needed in this family."

She'd stared at him for a very long time, horrified. He didn't seem to realise he'd said anything wrong at all. After she'd gotten her voice back and interrogated him a little, Nii-san was revealed to be the source of the problem. Apparently, his actual words were 'Just because you aren't needed doesn't mean you aren't loved.'.

The woman Fuyumi was nowadays, sitting and waiting still, pondered that he was probably only, in his gruff way, trying to be kind to his little brother. The twelve year age gap between them was too large, and the pressure of being good enough to live up to the standards of the first son were too heavy to see much else around him. But the teenager she'd been then had been angry. So angry, she had marched straight up to her brother and demanded what on earth he was thinking.

Nii-san had blinked at her, then shrugged slightly guilty. "You want me to lie to him? Kyouya needs to understand his position in this family, and that he's going to have to work hard. Besides, he was talking to me when I was trying to study…"

She balled her hands into fists. "When he's your age, he won't even need to study to do just as well as you, I bet! He's three years old and reading fluently on his own! You wait till he's older, I bet he'll beat your stupid-"

"Fuyumi!" Her dad had barked. "That is quite enough! You will not speak to your brother like that!" He turned to the stairs. "Kyouya! Come down here immediately, stop being silly!"

Their family outings had always been a little bit like that, really. None of them were lonely, but it was very much Akito-and-Nii-san and Fuyumi-and-Kyouya. They didn't really argue often, nor play together that much. They were all very much their own people, even as children.

Nii-san and Akito had continued to prepare to join their father in the company. And Kyouya had kept on growing, and getting smarter, and she knew their father was proud even if Kyouya didn't. But she hated to see him so… focused, all the time, on what was ahead of him. There wasn't much she could do for him, though, except encourage him and listen when he came to her in frustration, and prompt him to when he didn't. Still, she worried about him, when he didn't seem to see any point in making friends. She couldn't convince him.

Of course, by then, she'd had enough worries of her own. It had finally happened. She was engaged now. Still, it was fine. Her father had given her a choice, as a final sign of compassion, and she had already turned down two prospective partners. The man she was to marry was kind, and handsome, and could be quite witty when he relaxed a little. Nowadays, sitting on the edge of the bath tub, she wondered if she had grown to love him in their years together. She supposed she had; but then, she couldn't be certain because as a girl she'd never bothered trying. She'd been too scared she'd fall in love with someone and not be able to marry them. But her husband was lovely. She realised, yes, she did love him now, as she sat waiting.

She had been worried about how Kyouya would take her marriage, and during her engagement period she had been sure to make time for him. She needn't have worried, though, because it was around that time Kyouya finally made a proper friend. Well, in reality, he'd more-or-less had this friend force himself upon him. But how she had laughed to herself as he had groused day after day about the eccentric French 'tourist' he'd somehow been saddled with, and had heard the tell-tale catch of affection grow in his voice. She knew this Suoh was a real friend when she realised the tone of annoyance Kyouya spoke of him with was precisely the tone he used with her when she couldn't get his clothes back into his drawers.

Her theories had been confirmed the day Tamaki came to visit them, of course. It was the first time the rest of them had met him, and he was extremely charming. She'd heard of his mannerisms from Kyouya, and so was not really surprised when he complimented her, bowing low. It had taken a little while to understand why Kyouya complained of his clumsiness, and then Tamaki had tripped over on the edge of a rug and managed to tip his tea over it in his excitement. And then tried to clean it up himself rather then letting the staff do it, and somehow made a hole in it.

Neither of them had ever quite got around to telling her parents about that. Nor Kyouya, for that matter. She had just laughed at him. This guy was pure hearted, kind, maybe a little simple. She could suddenly see how it was him who had got her cold brother to be trapped into a friendship with his unrelenting warm heart. In the cool austerity of the house, tense under wedding preparations, he seemed to warm the place well and true.

Then he'd met her parents and her other two brothers. The room contained a piano, that she herself had once played. Yet, a sound so beautiful had never echoed from it as it did that day, when Tamaki had sat and played. She had cried. They all had. She wasn't sure why, but somehow, there in his music was some deeper understanding, some chord that struck true with some part of her. Kyouya had come home then too, and he seemed surprised at what his friend could do. He had seemed close to tears too.

It was then she really realised, was really assured, that Kyouya would be okay. More then okay, he'd be fine. Because if his heart was not yet so hard that it could still be touched, worn down, by this music, it was salvageable still.

And so was hers, she realised. She had allowed love into her heart a little more then, allowed herself to dare and try to love the man she was to marry. To do her duty, but to do more then that. To be happy.

She wasn't too sure what happened between Tamaki and her brother later that day, but somehow she sensed a corner had been turned in their house that time. When she walked down the aisle a few weeks later, she was ready. She was bold and unafraid. She was resigned to her future, but not to unhappiness.

On that day, she lost the Ootori name, and, if anything, she more or less lost her family. Her parents would always phone her at three PM on the third Sunday of the month. Nii-san had the first Sunday, and Akito the second, but she had hardly heard from them personally since she had left home. Kyouya phoned reasonably often though, as he had promised when he had stood by her side, them both staring at her in the mirror, standing in her wedding dress that morning. She'd waved the maids away, and asked Kyouya, who had far more delicacy then any of them, to help her fix the veil on. As he did so, she had made him promise to keep in touch. He had said that he would.

That had been true, mostly. He phoned every week or two, normally. She expected he would phone her soon, as she sat on the edge of her bathtub, waiting.

And what of her life now? She was not unhappy. A little bored, perhaps, as day after day she'd wander listlessly around her large and empty house until her husband came home. She hated when Kyouya was too busy to call often, because he was such fun to tease. She had taken to reading, and gardening, and even a little sewing. Still, it wasn't the same as having someone depend on you, come to you when they were frustrated and count on you to lend a sympathetic ear as they worked it out.

But then, she mused, fingers still drumming on the edge of the sink, Kyouya had always been fairly independent. It had only been in the last year or two or three, since Tamaki had forced him into that bizarre club, that his phone calls had begun to contain news of other people too. Tamaki, and Honey and Mori and the twins. One Fujioka Haruhi, who she was beginning to suspect he was rather fond of. They seemed to have such fun, even though Kyouya seemed to be constantly irritated with them. She allowed herself to wonder what they had been doing recently, to distract her thoughts.

Then, as if he was telepathic, the phone began to rattle and vibrate on the tiles on the windowsill. She grinned, answering.

"Kyouya!"

"Hello, Nee-san."

"Kyouya," She repeated, wounded, scolding him lightly. "You're so naughty- do you know how long it's been since you've phoned your poor Onee-chan? I was beginning to think you'd forgotten me!"

"Stop that." He deadpanned, darkly. "You're beginning to sound like him, the blithering idiot…"

She grinned all the wider. "Come now. Could it possibly be that lovely Tamaki-kun of yours to which you refer?"

"Yes. And, as I keep insisting to you, Nee-san, he is not lovely. He is an imbecile."

"Now, now." She answered playfully. "I'm sure he did very well in your exams. Speaking of which, I haven't heard the results yet… First?"

"Of course." She could almost hear his smirk. "Tamaki, before you ask, was second."

"And-"

"Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai were first and second in their class, the twins were fourth and fifth in theirs, and Haruhi was top." Kyouya rattled off before she could ask. She laughed.

"Sounds like Hikaru and Kaoru need to pull their socks up. I hope this club of yours isn't distracting them, Kyouya!"

"It's not my club." He said, venomously. "If it was my club it would not have such a gloriously wasteful President…"

"Uh-oh," she teased. "Is 'Ootou-san' causing problems for you again, Okaa-san?"

"Shut up." Kyouya answered, distractedly. "And when isn't he? The man is so troublesome. I've just found out Ootou-san- the real one, Nee-san- is coming to the culture festival next month. I'd rather hoped that the Host Club could at least present the image of being respectable, but now the idiot is blathering on something about horses and carriages, and I sincerely hope it's the Roman Chariots he was demanding a fortnight ago because the twins have already started the costumes. I don't understand why everything must be done in costume anyway- he is truly ridiculous. It's fine with the girls, but when there are adults there, we are going to be a laughing stock. I don't even think it is the Roman theme, because I am severely concerned that I think I caught the word 'French' in his rambling. Honestly, how many French-Romans are you aware of?!"

She couldn't help it. She laughed at his despair. "It sounds like Tamaki is…" She trailed off a little as she realised her period of waiting was over, and she stood, walking across the room.

"Nee-san?" Kyouya prompted.

"Ahhh, sorry!" She said, tearing her eyes off the colour before her. It didn't work; they slid back. "I meant to say Tamaki is preg- ah, um, his usual self."

"Nee-san…" Kyouya repeated, warily.

"Yes?"

"…How are you, anyway?"

"I'm…" She searched for a suitable word and gave up. "I'm pregnant." She said, instead, sounding rather surprised.

There was a long pause. She was almost glad of it. She was hardly used to the idea herself. Then:

"Oh… congratulations. Have you told Ootou-san?"

"Kyouya, I haven't even told my husband yet! The test has only just this second finished, while we've been on the phone!" She laughed suddenly, perhaps a little hysterical. "Are you scared Kyouya? You're going to be an uncle!"

"Not half as scared as I am of you being a mother." He answered, calmly.

"Kyouya! Don't be so mean to your poor sister!"

On the other end of the line, he rolled his eyes. He couldn't help but feel a little sorry for his soon-to-be nephew or niece. Yet, if he stopped and thought about it, he would have realised that the very same skills that had made her a good sister would make her a wonderful mother. Fuyumi was the sort of person who needed someone to rely on them; and when people did, they rarely regretted it.

Meanwhile, she was sitting with one hand holding the phone and the other over her stomach, talking things through with her sensible, rational, intelligent little brother. She was glad for his words, glad to be relying on him just this one time. Panic would have overtaken her by now if it wasn't for his apparent calm. Her first thought was that she hoped it would be a boy, so he would have a definite place in the world. She then thought that she hoped it would be a girl, so she could be raised to do just as well as any son. Then she realised she didn't mind. She wanted this baby… this person, to be just that. Their own person, to do whatever they wanted to do with their life. There was a place for the First Son, and the Second Son, and The Daughter. She wanted for her children to have the place of the Third Son; with no set position but the freedom and ability to discover their own.

"Nee-san." Kyouya's soft rebuke came down the line. "How are you going to break it to your husband?"

"…Should I ring him, do you think?"

"Nee-san. You'd give him a heart attack, and I doubt you want this child to be fatherless." He said, flatly. "Make sure you sit him down first. Maybe give him a stiff drink."

"Kyouya, don't condone alcohol!" She said, horrified.

"It's not me who's going to have to give it up."

"I should hope you don't partake anyway! Now, Kyouya, you are 'mother of three' at seventeen. Any advice for me?"

"Yes. Be quiet."

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The 'Mother-of-Three' had been acting rather oddly that day, and his club were paranoid. They looked at him now, sitting in his corner. His designators had given up, leaving earlier, fearful of his monotone responses. And Kyouya was sitting there. His laptop had gone onto standby, because he wasn't working.

Something wasn't right. Kyouya was never inactive. Well, he never used to be. These little bouts of apparent daydreaming had been happening all day. His friends were concerned, but they were more worried about incurring his famous temper. But they couldn't go on this way. So, after the club ended, the decision was made that someone had to go and talk to him.

"Tama-chan should go." Honey whispered, as they hid behind one of the sofas to scheme.

"Eh?! Why me?!"

"You're his best friend, Tono…" The twins shrugged, suggesting he'd brought this upon himself, as Mori nodded earnestly behind them.

Tamaki swallowed. He could just picture Kyouya going ballistic at being disturbed, and it wasn't a pleasant scenario. "But…"

"Oh, this is ridiculous." Haruhi rolled her eyes. "I have things to do tonight. I'll go talk to him." She stood, brushing dust off her knees, only to be forcefully dragged back down. She yelled, but Kyouya didn't even look up as they ssh-d her.

"It's just Kyouya-senpai." Haruhi said, dryly, from under a tangle of twins and Tonos.

"We're not going to risk you, Haruhi!" The twins answered.

"Kyouya may well bite your head off." Kaoru informed her.

"And, with your lack of chest, you're fairly useless without your head." Hikaru explained.

"You two are real charmers, you know that?"

"It's only because we love you! You're irreplaceable!" They chorused, though they made no move to get off her arms. "Tono, you can go."

"Oh, so I'm expendable?" Tamaki bristled, but could see this was getting nowhere. Besides, he couldn't stand the thought of Haruhi getting yelled at, or of looking cowardly in front of her. Then there was Kyouya. They were right, really- however scary, he should at least ask. He pushed the realisation that it was not wise to try and force Kyouya to do anything, let alone talk, aside; and stood, trying to approach his friend's table casually.

"Kyouya…" He said hesitantly.

"Ah, I see you've ventured out from behind the settee, then." Kyouya answered, to acknowledge his presence. "What a bad example you set. Perhaps that's why the twins are being so insulting."

Tamaki laughed nervously, thinking he could practically taste the twin's new terror in the air. Kyouya had many ways of getting at people who offended him, after all. Tamaki would have to tread carefully. He sat tentatively down at his friend's table, and lowered his voice a little, so the others couldn't hear.

"Anyway, Kyouya… Is everything… you know… alright?"

Kyouya seemed a little taken aback at the question. The look passed to mild irritation. "You do have a habit of asking pointless questions. Everything's fine."

Tamaki pressed his lips together, wondering if he dared push the matter. "But, you've been a little… spacey."

"Hmmph. That would be because Fuyumi kept me up all night with her idiotic panicking over the phone. She gets in such a flap, it's such a nuisance…"

Tamaki blinked at the apparent lack of concern in Kyouya's voice. After all, he knew something no-one else did- that Kyouya actually cared for his sister a great deal, more than he did for anyone else in his family. Indeed, Tamaki cared a lot of Fuyumi himself, on the few lucky occasions he'd had of meeting her. She was so bubbly and cheerful he found it hard to imagine her 'flapping'. "Is she okay?"

"Don't you start panicking now." Kyouya snapped, patience wearing a little thin with all these questions. "She's fine too. Just…" He suddenly thought better than to tell Tamaki his sister's present circumstances. He had no desire for a headache. "Just having one of those days."

"Ahh." Tamaki nodded in supposed wisdom, as if it was something he knew all about. Kyouya detected a sympathetic tone, and decided, while he was slightly downtrodden, to break some lesser news.

"That reminds me. I won't be attending club activities tomorrow."

"What?" Tamaki sounded horrified. Hurt, almost. "Kyouya! How could you do that to all those lovely ladies?! They'll be so disappointed! And what about the children?! What sort of example are you?! At least I'm here for them! Why on earth would you abandon us now?!" He suddenly gasped. "I knew it! There's another club, isn't there?! Traitor! Adulterer! How could you do such a thing?!"

Kyouya folded his arms and waited till Tamaki drew breath. "Stop. That speech is rapidly getting away from you." He raised his eyebrow an extra sarcastic centimetre and added, "Besides, I'm just going to a family meal. To celebrate her… pregnancy." He spat the last word as though he was already fed up of hearing it. Which he probably was.

Tamaki stared for a second, then suddenly beamed. He leapt to his feet and felt the need to hug Kyouya. "Ahh! How wonderful! Congratulations!"

"Let go of me." Kyouya answered, pleasantly. "Before I snap your arms off."

Tamaki let go of him and turned to wave at those tentatively emerging from behind the back of the sofa. "Oi! It's okay! Kyouya's going to be an uncle!"

And then loud noises of revelation.

Kyouya leant his head on his hand, watching them getting excited, and wondered how he had managed to end up with a headache after all.

"Kyouya!" Tamaki's hands suddenly slammed down in front of him. "You must be a better uncle than you've been a mother! Please, don't manipulate that child! It's so young!"

Kyouya's irritation was beginning to grow. His nephew or niece wasn't even born yet. "Just what do you take me for…?"

Silence.

Kyouya glared at Tamaki, who was reduced to his emo corner. Still, at least he was quiet when he was there.

"So…" Haruhi said, smiling a little awkwardly. "Is this the child of your eldest brother, Kyouya-senpai?"

"No, my sister."

Haruhi blinked at him. "I didn't know you had a sister, Kyouya-senpai. I don't think you've ever mentioned her."

Kyouya massaged his temples. "Well, she's my parent's second child…"

"Ah, so you're actually one of four, Kyouya-senpai?"

He sighed. "Yes. The youngest."

Yet, not sensing his discomfort, she smiled. "It must be nice to come from a large family." He looked up at her, expression saying it all, and she laughed a little sadly. "Well, I've always wondered what it would be like. It's just Ootou-san and I at home, and with him out so much…"

Kyouya said nothing, resettling his glasses instead. Haruhi, meanwhile, found herself suddenly engulfed by Tamaki, who had apparently made a ridiculous recovery.

"Haruhi!" He cried, somewhere above her head. "I'm an only child too! We can unite in our sorrow! I'll be your father and your brother!"

She grappled a little and eventually prised herself free. "I don't think so, senpai." She suddenly got a sneaky look on her face. "Besides, if we're going to 'unite in our sorrows' as only children, surely many others would have to join us?"

"But, Haruhi, we're the only ones in the club without brothers or sisters…"

Haruhi rubbed her forehead. "…Why does no-one tell me these things?! Does anyone else want to spring an unknown sibling on me today?" Although, now that she thought about it, the twins obviously weren't only children, she'd known at least Kyouya had brothers, and she'd met Chika and Satoshi, the younger Honey and Mori. So why did it still feel such a surprise…?

"Well, Haruhi…" The twins came and slung their arms around her neck. "An unknown sibling…"

Tamaki was only half listening to them; barely digesting the sounds of them telling her some tall tale about the tragic tale of their lost triplet, who had probably never existed and certainly wouldn't have been called Dave. He slunk over and sat by Kyouya, and it was assumed he was upset about being rejected by Haruhi. Again. But, at last, it was time to go, and leave the club and it's stories for another day.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

"Haruhi! Haruhi! Haruhi!"

She stopped walking. Really, it would be cruel to ignore him any longer. Inches from the school gates and escaping for the evening, she turned to face him, looking a little irritated.

"Yes?"

"Haruhi…" He repeated, a little sheepishly. This surprised her. Normally, he would at least have scolded her for not responding sooner. "Could I… talk to you?"

"Isn't that what we're doing?" She answered, oblivious as ever.

"Ah, ah, I guess so…" His sheepish smile had faded. He seemed uncomfortable. "I… just wanted to apologise…"

She blinked. "What have you done?" Then her face hardened. "I swear, if you've let Kyouya-senpai sell anymore of my things, I'll-"

"I lied to you."

"Eh?" She hadn't been expecting that.

"Um, well, I might have done. Sort of. I'm not sure. Maybe." He flustered. Haruhi quickly lost patience.

"What are you talking about, senpai?"

"The thing is… I might not be an only child after all." He said, with an air of confession. He evidently realised this was not a usual thing not to know, and continued hastily. "I know that sounds odd, but I might have a half-sibling in France. My mother was pregnant when I left. Not with my father's baby. With a man's who she thought loved her. A rich man, who would have taken care of us… I guess… um… Anyway, he didn't have as much interest as she thought, and, ah… I left when she was about ten weeks gone. So I don't know if she lost the baby, or decided not to keep it, or if she had it... But I might not be an only child. I might be a half-brother. But… but I didn't grow up with a sibling or do any of that brother stuff, and I don't know for sure, and I've never even met them, and sometimes I forget, so maybe it wasn't such a bad lie… No! There's no such thing as a good lie! I shouldn't try to make excuses! I'm so sorry! I apologise endlessly! Please don't be mad, Haruhi!"

"I'm not mad." She answered, somewhat bewildered. "You really need to get your priorities sorted." He was the confused one now. She shrugged. "You're talking about a brother or sister you may or may not have and haven't ever met and you're worried about offending me. That's really stupid."

"Um…" For once, words deserted him. "I'm sorry. I'd find out if I could, but if I have any contact with my mother-"

"You're misunderstanding again!" Haruhi hastily stopped him. "Just… don't you want to know? I'm sure you could find out without your grandmother knowing. Besides, it's totally disgusting to keep you in the dark like this…"

"If I did that, I'd be breaking a promise." Tamaki answered, simply. Then he shyly began to smile. "But you're getting angry on my behalf! Haruhi! That's so cute! I knew you liked me! Kawaii! Beau! Merveilleux! Vous êtes si étonnant! Je suis heureux! Trés heureux! Trés, trés-"

"Senpai." Haruhi said, flatly. "Can we at least try to keep our conversations in one language?"

"Ah, but, Haruhi… I haven't thought of France in such a long time… I can't help it!"

Haruhi muttered something he couldn't catch.

"Eh? Haruhi, was that Russian? Haruhi, do you speak Russian? I didn't know that! Seriously, what language was that?"

"Goodbye." She said, clearly, and in Japanese; so he'd be sure to catch that one.

"Bye…" He said, a little confused.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

"Nii-san!"

Mori turned immediately at the voice, as did Honey; and they paused as they waited for Satoshi to catch up with them. Once he arrived, he grinned at them at greeted them again.

"Hey, Nii-san. Hello again, Honey-senpai!" Not waiting for a response, he began questioning Mori, not seeming to mind that none of his questions got answered. "How was the club today, Nii-san? I've just got out of Kendo practice. I think we might be ready for the county contests next month, but I'm not sure- could you come check it out? Or is Tama-senpai planning something big? It's not time for a festival, is it? Then again, that's never made a difference! I guess you could maybe-"

Mori grabbed his head, both a sign of affection and to get him to be quiet already; a slight smile of amusement crinkling the corners of his mouth and eyes. Satoshi chuckled.

"Guess you don't feel too talkative today." He quipped. "Still, you ready to go?"

Mori nodded, and the brothers turned to Honey.

"Well, then. See you later, Honey-senpai!"

"Bye bye, Sato-chan!" Honey grinned at him. "Bye bye, Takashi!"

"Mitsukini. Take care." Mori instructed, by way of farewell, and the two brothers headed off towards their waiting car, Satoshi chattering away and Mori as silent as ever. It didn't seem to matter- he didn't need to speak, perhaps. Indeed, after a few minutes, the brothers fell into a companionable silence and Satoshi did not speak again until they were almost home.

"So, how was everyone at the club today, Nii-san?" Satoshi asked, idly.

Mori shrugged, but realised that this was one of the few questions he'd have to elaborate on. "Excitable. Kyouya's sister is pregnant."

Satoshi chuckled. "Ah, I bet Tama-senpai's getting enthusiastic and overdramatic, right?"

"Ah."

"Kyouya-senpai sure has a large family…" Satoshi mused. "Haruhi-chan's all on her own though, isn't she? I hope she isn't lonely…"

Mori said nothing. Satoshi had long since known Haruhi was a girl, and, out of all of his brother's friends it almost seemed it was her he cared about the most. Mori knew why- an instinct to protect. The whole 'secret identity' thing brought out the over-protective side in most people, let alone in the Morinozuka family. He had worried a little over Haruhi's statement about having a large family too, but it had passed. Haruhi was alright. Satoshi, it seemed, was not so easily comforted.

"Haruhi-chan's so amazing, I don't want her to be unhappy." Satoshi stated. He always saw her from afar, hurrying about her business, and got his brother to speak of her more than he spoke of anyone. He leant over towards him. "Nii-san… Keep a secret?"

Mori merely nodded. Honestly, how likely was it that he'd tell anyone?

"I love Haruhi-chan."

Mori stared. His brother went red, but smiled sheepishly.

"Don't laugh." He pleaded. "I can't help it. I know she's two years older than me and I've hardly spoken to her; and I know I don't have a chance when she's already friends with so many awesome guys… but I see her around so much, and whenever I hear about her… She sounds really wonderful, ne?"

Mori couldn't really think what to say to that as they pulled up outside the house. So, instead, he went back to a safer subject.

"Do you have homework?"

"Eh? Well… no, not tonight…"

Mori nodded. "Go get your kendo stuff." Satoshi blinked at him, so Mori added: "To see if you're good enough for the county competition."

Satoshi readily accepted the challenge. The brothers would train together with reasonable frequency, but it had been quite some time since he'd had a test match with his Nii-san. He forgot all about Haruhi as they leapt around the dojo. His brother may have been extremely tall, so big, but he was still very fast. The staffs clashed again and again in the air, each of them leaping and swinging and dodging flinching, landing blows and absorbing them. Some time later, Satoshi found himself on the floor, breathing heavily.

"Looks like you won again, Nii-san." He said, quite cheerfully. He'd never beaten Takashi in his life and he was hardly expecting to start now. Mori reached down and hauled him up.

"…You have as much chance as anyone." He said, briefly, after a long pause. Mori had been unsure about saying that, as it seemed unlikely Haruhi would ever return Satoshi's feelings. Yet, the thing was, she didn't seem to return the feelings of any who had fallen for her. So really, Satoshi did have the same chance as anyone else.

Which was very little chance at all, but never mind. Mori wasn't really sure what to make of Satoshi's confession, wasn't really sure which emotion in the current mess of them inside his head to act upon. So he just did what he could, and kept his real thoughts to himself.

Satoshi, meanwhile, was adjusting his grip on his staff; and he grinned through his mask. "…Try again, Nii-san?"

"Ah."

The two engaged once again in a fight that was totally friendly, just for fun, to pass the time.

For the brothers of the Haninozuka family, that would be out of the question. Honey had watched his best friend walk with his brother to a car and disappear off home together, and couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. He knew he would never have that sort of relationship with Chika, and he was saddened by it. It didn't help that they had to fight every time they met. He wished things weren't this way, he wished he could patch things up with his brother, and he wished and wished and wished for a way to do so without trying to change who he was.

Thankfully, a chance would soon present itself.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

It was a reasonably peaceful evening in the Hitachiin household. In fact, it was one of the rare but pleasant few evenings the four of them spent together. They'd finished dinner an hour or so before, and now were seated around a small table, the twins on one side and their parents on the other. A large blanket was spread out between them. The corporation was thinking of expanding in household linen, and so this was the first attempt at a bed spread. Their mother had pulled it out to work on and somehow they'd all ended up helping. The twins were concentrating on sewing the two large squares together so it would form a proper cover for a duvet while their parents were putting buttons onto the other end. Or attempting to.

"Dad," Kaoru said, frankly, as the man dropped another button on the floor. "You really suck at this."

"We could do buttons before we could read." Hikaru added, teasingly.

"Come on, boys." Their mother scolded. "He wasn't born and raised on it like you two. He's doing his best."

"His best is rubbish." The twins shrugged.

"I may not be able to sew, but at least I can understand standard form." Their father teased back. "Honestly, it's simple…"

"Don't bring me into this!" Their mother protested. "And it is not simple!"

The conversation continued in this way for some time, tossing casual insults back and forth in a way of affection. Eventually, however, even that had petered out, and, both parties moving to stitch up the sides, the conversation moved on.

"So, how was everyone at the club today?" Their mom asked.

Hikaru shrugged. "Excited over this pregnancy thing."

"Pregnancy?" Their mom repeated, sounding terrified. "What pregnancy? Whatever are you boys talking about?"

They looked at her, curious as to her weird behaviour. "Kyouya-senpai's sister." They explained, but were still looking at her strangely. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine…"

They stared at her. Her husband was looking softly at her to. He squeezed her hand under the duvet cover.

"Oh, alright…" She sighed. "The thing is… I'm pregnant again too."

They said nothing, and merely looked at her. She flushed.

"Don't look at me like that! I'm not that old! Don't forget, I was very young when I had you two- I'm not past it yet!"

They still said nothing, and looked only at each other. Then they smiled.

"When's it due?" Kaoru asked, forgetting his task for the moment. Hikaru continued sewing.

That night, when they were finally alone in their room, they sat on their respective beds and for a moment were silent. At length, Hikaru spoke.

"…What do you think?" He asked.

"I don't know… What do you think?"

Hikaru shrugged and flopped down on his bed. Kaoru did the same.

"It's weird to think about…" He stated. "But, I think it'll be nice. Mom and dad seem happy, at least. I wonder if it'll be a boy or a girl?"

"Who knows?" Hikaru answered, and then rolled over. "Let's sleep. Night, Kaoru."

"Night, Hikaru."

Of course, Hikaru did not sleep. He stared out into the blackness of the night and listened to the clock tick. Ten thousand and eight hundred later- in other words, three hours- he felt ill. He was almost scared. He rolled out of bed, grabbed his phone, and headed into the bathroom he and his brother shared, not wanting to wake Kaoru up. Kaoru, on his part, watched Hikaru slip out of the room. He wondered why he wouldn't talk to him about it, but, in a way, was glad he had someone else to talk to. He settled back down and at last gave in to sleep while Hikaru leant up against the edge of the bath, sitting on the floor, and raised the phone to his ear with a shaking hand.

"Haruhi?"

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

When Haruhi had come home from school that day, she had gone about her normal routine in a perfectly normal fashion. She had quietly done her homework and just as quietly made dinner, so as not to wake her father up while she was doing so. Then, as normal, she had roused him, and the two of them sat down as normal to eat together before he had to go to work. As he normally did, Ranka demanded all the ins and outs of her day and, as normal, Haruhi patiently relayed it to him. He was delighted to hear about Kyouya's sister, of course. Everyone was. Haruhi felt inclined to agree with Kyouya- anyone would think it was his child, all the fuss that was being made…

At last, as normal, her father got dressed, applied make-up, and went to work as Haruhi cleaned up in the kitchen; and she, as normal, sat in the quiet and empty house and finished her work.

"That's the last of it." She said to the room at large, putting down her pen with a satisfying click. She didn't find that there was anything odd about talking to herself; it was just a way to fill the silence. Not that she would make a habit of it. She turned instead and smiled at the picture of her mother on the mantle, glancing at the clock nearby. "Ah, that was quick." She remarked. "Probably a good habit to get into, though, remembering all the work you had; Okaa-san." She picked up her mug of tea from the table and went and knelt before the picture. She didn't say anything more. Haruhi was not really a superstitious person and had never been one to spare much consideration for the afterlife. She did like to think that in some way, and some where, her mother still existed, but that was about as far as it went. It wasn't often she spoke to her mother's picture, and rarely out-loud. Instead, she found herself wondering about the woman in the photograph.

She remembered her mother, of course, but only a little. Besides, they were child's memories, and mostly consisted of the waist downward, or a hand over hers. People who had known Kotoko Fujioka often commented that Haruhi was like her, but Haruhi couldn't help but doubt that. After all, she remembered her mother being very tender and gentle, hugging her and encouraging her. Haruhi couldn't imagine being like that herself, not even in the future. Also, she remembered her mother's laugh.

Haruhi was extremely realistic. She knew she didn't laugh all that much. Not that it seemed to be a problem.

Still, she supposed she must be a little like her mother. It was a simple matter of genetics, after all, and in order to be a successful lawyer her mother must have been quite organised and straight-forward too, and she was probably responsible if she managed to look after her husband. Haruhi sometimes wondered if that was how Kotoko had pictured her life. Her father had told that her mother had wanted to be a lawyer ever since she was a little girl, but Haruhi often thought Ranka was far from anyone's ideal man and probably not who her mother had imagined she'd fall in love with. Oh, Haruhi did not doubt that her parents had been in love, but she did wonder how exactly Kotoko had ended up with such a person. Probably in much the same way as she'd fallen in with the Host Club, more than likely, but Haruhi sincerely hoped that did not mean she'd end up spending her entire life with one of-

She cut the train of thought off before it crashed or entered unbidden into dangerous territory, and reversed back to thinking about her parents. What had they been imagining on that day when they got married? What had they actually wanted?

Haruhi began to toy with the idea of if they had wanted more children. Truth be told, she doubted it. Her dad fully admitted that his reaction when he found out his wife had conceived her was 'How?! What do we do?!'. He had then hastily assured her that while having a child had not exactly been planned, neither of them had ever regretted it. Still, Haruhi supposed, that meant they would not have wanted any more children.

Personally, she wasn't sure what to think. Sometimes, yes, it was lonely in this empty house. Sometimes, when her dad was escorted home having drank an ocean of beer, and she had to drag herself out of bed to sober him up, she wished there was someone to pass the duty on to. Sometimes, after the noise and fun of the Host Club, the house seemed depressingly quiet; and sometimes, she wished she had someone to vent about the day to. She knew that when she was frustrated her fellow hosts had proven to be surprisingly good listeners- though their advice was rarely up to much- but when they quite frequently were the ones to frustrate her… Even so, she had found that she had got used to, had even begun enjoying the company at school and missed it when she was at home.

Which, surely, only proved she was certifiably insane. Haruhi groaned aloud. It really came to something, when she found she felt lonely without those idiots she'd somehow ended up calling 'friends'…

And then, her phone rang. She jumped, startled, and to her surprise saw it was almost two in the morning. She didn't stop to ponder where the time had gone- merely came to the drab conclusion that nobody would call at this hour if something wasn't wrong. She hurried across the flat to her room, where the cheery tone was coming from, and unearthed the thing. It was surprising the batteries hadn't run out, given how little attention she paid the gift from the twins, but their constant nagging when she didn't answer it had made her check it occasionally. She thought something was seriously wrong, and so didn't stop to note the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Haruhi?"

She sighed when she heard Hikaru's voice, and moved back into the living room, to reoccupy the warm spot she'd been sitting in before. It was totally like the twins to call her at this hour. Then again, Kaoru hadn't interjected yet, and there was a catch to Hikaru's voice she hadn't heard before as he asked if he'd woken her. She wondered vaguely what sort of question that was to ask at two am, but then her ever-logical brain pointed out that he actually hadn't. So she said so.

"No, I was awake." She said, her thoughts now turning to how weird it was for Hikaru to ask such a thing. He didn't usually take others into consideration all that much.

"Oh, good…" He seemed a little sheepish. Uncertain. Very un-Hikaru-like. "So, how are you?"

"Hikaru." She said, wearily, the time and emotional drain of thinking of her mother again suddenly soaking in. She rubbed her face. "Did you phone me to make small talk?"

"No." He said, suddenly surly and reluctant. Then he finally spat out what was bothering him. "My mom's pregnant."

"Oh." Haruhi replied, and then added, "Women are conceiving left right and centre today, aren't they?"

"…Not helping?"

"Why? Is it not a good thing?" She shot back.

"I don't know." Hikaru answered, frustrated. "It's just… weird. It's always been just the four of us, you know? Just me and Kaoru. I don't want some baby butting in."

Haruhi swallowed back comments on how ungrateful and possessive he was, restrained herself for the most part, but still spoke somewhat impatiently. "Well, what does Kaoru think of it?"

Hikaru, sitting in his bedroom's en suite bathroom and resting his head against the bathtub, legs spread over the floor, suddenly felt a rush of gratitude. She was the only one who would not assume they always had the same opinion, even though ninety-nine times out of a hundred they did. It didn't make him feel too much better though, and he sighed roughly. "He's excited about it, though he's trying to hide it."

"Like you're hiding what you think of it?" Haruhi pointed out, as coldly logical as ever. As usual, she got straight to the point. "Look, it's alright if you disagree occasionally."

"That's not the problem." Hikaru muttered. "It's this kid… I mean, Kaoru will be fine. He's more patient then me."

"Hikaru." She answered, sounding a little exasperated. "Please tell me you are not seriously worried you'll be replaced by a baby."

"No!" He shot back, fiercely. The feeling had crossed his mind, certainly, but he knew it was stupid and irrational and didn't need her to tell him that. He had a different primary concern. "But it'll be different with me, won't it? The kid will probably hate me within a month."

"At a month old, it'll hardly be in a state to hate anyone."

"Haruhi…"

"Fine, fine. But it'll be okay, won't it? I mean, you and Kaoru are really close." She said. There was an odd catch to her voice. It sounded muffled. He suspected she was holding the phone with her shoulder and doing something else with her hands. After all, what other explanation was there?

"Haruhi!" He protested. "This is different! I never asked to be an older brother, you know! I don't want to be!"

"You're not the father. Calm down."

"Well, how am I supposed to know if I'll be any good? I don't even know if I want to try…"

"You won't know." She said, bluntly. Then, so quietly he barely heard it: "But you'll get chance to find out…"

Hikaru made some sort of noise of acknowledgement, and sighed again. "This is screwing up my head. Why does it have to be so complicated?" He complained. "I was happy with things as they were. Life can be really unfair sometimes."

Haruhi gave a weird laugh. "Yeah, it can, can't it?"

There it was again, that odd catch to her voice. Hikaru began to feel a little wary.

"Haruhi? You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Hikaru was stumped by this, and responded with slight irritation. "I don't know! You sound weird!" He accused.

"I'm fine!" She snapped back. "Look, it's late… just go and try to get some sleep. Don't worry about this baby thing. You've got nine months to work it out."

"She's almost three months gone!"

"Six months, then! But right now it's two am and we both have school later! So…"

"Yeah, I guess…"

"Goodnight, Hikaru."

"Goodnight, Haruhi…" He answered, somewhat confused. Yet, he was speaking to a dial tone. He shrugged. It seemed Haruhi got cranky when she was tired after all. Still, at least he felt a tiny bit better…

Meanwhile, Haruhi was reprimanding herself for being so silly, stubbornly wiping her damp eyes dry, appalled she'd started going watery-eyed to begin with. She rarely thought about such things and she supposed it was only ironic that when she was being ungrateful about how small her family was someone else was being ungrateful about theirs getting larger. She hardly ever allowed herself to think in such a way, because it only ever lead to feeling like she did now. Life was unfair, yes, but in it's very nature of always being that way, it almost became fair again; because it was natural and to be expected. She sternly told herself to stop being so selfish and self-pitying. Throwing the thoughts aside, hoping they would not trouble her again, and telling herself off for playing the 'What if' game to begin with, she went to the kitchen and made another cup of tea, hoping it would get her into a frame of mind for sleep. It did, and as she drank, she sank lower and lower to the floor.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Hikaru and Haruhi may not have been getting much sleep, but they were probably better off then Honey. He had been awoken.

He did not like being awoken.

Needless to say, until that point his evening had at least had the pretence of being pleasant. There had been plenty of cake involved, and not an awful amount of homework. He had trained in the house's dojo until his brother had appeared. Then he had fought Chika as tradition demanded and hastily left.

That was what had made the evening slightly less perfect.

Honey couldn't deny it- he envied Takashi and Satoshi, who seemed to understand each other and have a close relationship. He didn't understand his brother at all, and Chika didn't really understand him. And it was very hard to build on that when they had to fight every time they passed one another.

Still, that didn't mean much. Honey had seen the way his father and uncles fought, and it seemed like they had fun doing it, like a game. That was the way it was meant to be, he was certain. The tradition of challenges between family members was to make their bonds and skills stronger, not to use them as a fuelling for resentment and misunderstanding. But between him and Chika, it seemed it couldn't be helped. Honey had gone to bed pondering these things, but, as usual, accepted that there was no real conclusion to be had and quickly slipped into sleep.

Until he had been so rudely woken up by the sound of what could almost have been a window being forced open. Honey was never happy about being woken up, in fact, he was now in a rather foul mood as he wrenched his head out of his pillow and headed into the now silent hallway. He caught a glimpse of something black disappearing around the corner, and blinked the last bleary traces of sleep from his eyes. There was nothing childish in his demeanour now as he carefully crept down the corridor without a sound.

Oh, a normal person would have called security by now. But this was the Haninozuka family, and this burglar probably didn't know what he was letting himself in for. Besides, he had been good enough to get past all the outside alarms and guards, so what use would the security guards be?

Smiling slightly, exhilarated by the chase, and then frowning as he fumed over his disturbed rest, Honey watched as the man slipped down the stairs, tip-toeing down the edge by the wall to prevent creaking. He stopped at the bottom and seemed to be considering taking a painting that hung opposite the foot of the stairs.

Honey proceeded by sliding down the banister and booting the man in the back of the head. Cursing, the would-be thief struggled to his feet again, face hidden by a mask before he bolted into the depths of the house. Honey pursued him, only to find he was not alone on the chase. Chika had obviously been woken to, and, stealthily, was now crouched in a doorway. Honey joined him as the man continued to run.

"Don't come near me now!" Chika hissed urgently.

"Why not?"

"Because we'll have to fight! You know the rule!"

Honey smiled back at him rather sweetly. "But, Chika-chan, it never said we have to fight each other, ne?"

"Huh…?"

Honey said nothing, just grinned again and resumed the chase. Chika was beside him, and, just as they'd been taught, they swiftly and silently pressed forward until they caught up with the man. He didn't pose much of a challenge. Honey kicked him in the back of the head again as Chika circled round and got him in the stomach, and the man was unconscious. It was quite pathetic, really.

Chika went to alert the appropriate people with barely a word. Honey, for his part, went back to bed; and as he quickly went back into sleep wondered if he and his brothers could be friends now.

The answer proved to be a no as, the next day, they breakfasted and went to school separately, the same as always.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Ranka found Haruhi a few hours after she'd fallen asleep when he got back from work. Normally, she'd just be waking up and they'd have breakfast together before she'd get ready for school and he'd go to bed. Today, it didn't look like Haruhi had made it as far as her room. She was sleeping on the floor in front of her mother's picture, a half-drunk mug of tea on one side of her and her phone on the other. Ranka picked it up. Had he thought about it, he may perhaps have thought to look at who had last called. But he didn't, because he knew exactly who to speak to.

"Yes?" Kyouya was not exactly bright and cheery at this time in the morning. He'd only been up a few minutes and had yet to shake the bad mood.

"Kyouya-kun…" Ranka growled, not a trace of a womanly tone disguising his voice today. "What have you lot done to my Haruhi?!"

"What?" Kyouya answered, then decided to be a little more polite. "Well, nothing, as far as I'm aware…"

"Then why has she fallen asleep on the living room floor?! Something must have happened at school to have worried her! Think!"

Kyouya thought. Certainly, he knew why he had taken a little longer than normal to sleep, but he doubted it would affect Haruhi all that much, if at all. He couldn't think of any reason for Haruhi to have fallen asleep on the floor of all places, but it seemed to suggest she'd been unable to sleep and had stayed up late. "I honestly have no idea." He admitted.

"Well, find out!" Ranka bellowed at him. "I'm trusting you, Kyouya-kun, and I hope you realise the second you let her down I'll have her straight in the girl's uniform and bugger your stupid club!"

Kyouya was trying to think of a polite answer to this when he heard Haruhi's muffled and bleary tone. Bleary because she had presumably just woken up, and muffled because of her distance from the phone. He didn't manage to catch the words but assumed, knowing Haruhi, something along the lines to demand what Ranka was shouting about at this time in the morning. The man hung up.

Kyouya, meanwhile, adjusted his glasses. This was an interesting direction for things to take, to be sure. He didn't like being threatened all that much. In addition, he could not imagine what had possessed Haruhi to have fallen asleep in such a place- he knew from experience that floor was not awfully comfortable to sit on. He wondered if something was bothering her after all- his interest based on the worry it would interfere with the club activities, of course.

Naturally.

That aside, he did not want Ranka to make good his threat if this trend continued. So, during the club the following day- having missed it the morning of the phone call for that meal- he managed to get a quiet moment with her. He was uncomfortable to begin with, and the atmosphere in the room made it worse. It was odd, but Hikaru, Honey and Haruhi all seemed to be in a bad mood, as though they were tired. Mori was his normal self- as far as anyone could tell, at least- but even Tamaki seemed more subdued while Kaoru kept sneaking worried glances at Hikaru. He couldn't imagine what was wrong with them all, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know- but if it would make the club undesirable…

The task for the moment, however, was to ask Haruhi if she was alright. Yet, somehow… it felt awkward, when she was standing there and looking so expectant, and yet quite pale and tired, with a frayed temper. He felt himself at a loss for words, but managed to cope quite well.

"Haruhi. It's been drawn to my attention by sources which I will not make explicit for fear of his safety, though, on the other hand, I'm sure we're both well aware that you know the source to which I refer; and not one of a river as I'm sure you'll agree; that you have behaved, how shall we say, just slightly away from the centre that is your normal habits and patterns in so far that I've been made aware of them, although the reliability of the source is somewhat dubious as it could have been in any state of mind at the time and could perhaps have been, shall we say, not illuminated to certain habits, although they are not hidden, just… unnoticed; but in that unnoticed nature we really couldn't say one way or the other whether they exist or not; in addition to, ah, not to put too fine a point on it, the influence of certain substances which may or may not have been present or merely lingering, but, I have a duty to ask, according to the nature of my role here, or, at least, investigate the possibility that, under certain circumstances, with all influences being taken into account, that things may be somewhat less than habitual."

Most people would have been reduced to blinking, and throwing out some vague and neutral comment, not knowing that buried somewhere within there was a question. Kyouya was counting on this trick, as always, to avoid embarrassment.

Unfortunately, Haruhi saw right through it and answered with a small smile. "Ah, I was acting weird, wasn't I? I'm sorry- but really, Kyouya-senpai, everything's fine. Thanks for asking."

"That's fine." Kyouya muttered back, embarrassed at being caught in his apparent concern and at trying to hide it, which made it seem more like it was his concern and not her father's to begin with. To cover up a little, he added: "If nothing's wrong don't act like it. Any designators you upset will add to your debt."

She didn't answer, still seeing right through him. Normally, the threat of adding to her debt would blind her- the only thing that would hide his tricks from her. Yet, even now, she seemed to be seeing right through his mask…

No, she couldn't be, simply because there wasn't anything to see. Just because Haruhi was probably thinking he was worried about her didn't mean he actually was. Kyouya had to carefully remind himself of this. Haruhi, meanwhile, went back to serving guests. There were a few minutes of calm in which Kyouya had relative peace- apart from receiving an E-mail on his laptop from his sister asking about baby names which he attempted to ignore- and then there was somewhat a ruckus as Hikaru suddenly stormed out of the room and Kaoru followed.

Everyone else sort of stared for a moment. Then, quite calmly, Haruhi sighed and stood.

"Excuse us a minute." She stated, emptily, and followed at a more sedate pace.

Kyouya raised an eyebrow slightly, but then continued with what he was doing. He had no particular desire to be involved, and it seemed Tamaki was, for once, handling things.

Naturally, that did not mean that Kyouya wasn't curious about the nature of his underclassmen's disappearance, and he kept an ear open as the girls the twins had left behind fretted.

"I didn't mean to upset him…" One said, sounding rather upset herself.

"I wonder what's bothering him?" Another added. "Kaoru-kun seemed alright…"

"What were you talking about?" One of Haruhi's abandoned designators, who also had a soft spot for the twins, demanded.

"Nothing, really… We just got onto the subject of names and what our favourites were, what we would call our children one day…"

Kyouya felt like slamming his head on the keyboard. He had no desire to hear any more talk about babies, between his mother waxing and waning between happiness and distress at the idea of being a grandmother and mourning how fast all her children had grown up, and Fuyumi suddenly getting very 'into' the idea of being a mother. Yet, he had to wonder why it was a sore spot for the twins.

He could only really think of one thing about children being expected that would freak anyone out… and he quickly discarded it as being high unlikely.

He hoped.

He felt inclined to slam his head off the keyboard again. Really, his imagination was becoming as bad as Tamaki's…

A moment later, Haruhi entered as calmly as she had left, and the twins were just behind her; immediately into a twin-cest act to 'explain' their mysterious disappearance. The real reason would undoubtedly be teased out of them by Tamaki once the guests had left. In the meantime, Kyouya was impressed despite himself- it was very hard, once Hikaru had decided to do something, to convince him to do something different. He moved towards Haruhi.

"What did you say to him?"

"That he was being ridiculous." She answered, simply.

"And he accepted it?"

"No." She shrugged. "So I told him if he didn't come back fairly soon Tamaki-senpai would take drastic, panicky and fussy measures and he'd be in your bad books. That worked much better… Though it was Kaoru that convinced him in the end."

"I see…" Kyouya allowed himself a rare smile. He found he quite liked being the object of fear.

"Don't look so happy." Haruhi warned, feeling surprisingly brazen today. "You may be feared, but you're scared of the prospect of your sister having a baby."

"Don't make such ludicrous statements." He answered, not saying anymore because she had convinced the twins back in and so had earnt a little grace. Of course he wasn't frightened over all the things that could go wrong during or after the birth, or for the rest of that's child's life when it would have a mother who would undoubtedly be loving but would be fairly useless practically. Kyouya remembered the days when she had got enthusiastic about being engaged, and decided she needed to learn to be a proper housewife even though there would be servants; and how this whim seemed to entail his drawers constantly being emptied out. He could see how this was going to go and had absolutely normal human concern, that was all, for a child who had got rather bad luck.

But he wasn't scared, and certainly not for Fuyumi. She was a responsible adult after all.

Or, at least, an adult.

So no, he wasn't frightened. At all.

It really was a ludicrous suggestion.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

It seemed to be a day for drama. Outside the school that day, Honey and Chika happened to bump into each other while searching out the Haninozuka drivers. People immediately started to back away. No innocent bystander had been hurt in the brother's bouts before, but you never knew what could happen when the two of them got started. Today, Chika did not just launch himself at his older brother. He scowled.

"Nii-san, now we're going to have to fight again!" He complained, readying his stance. Honey did nothing, merely smiled.

"Fight? Ne, Chika-chan, I guess you're right… but can we be quick? Usa-chan and I want to go home and eat cake."

His fan-girls mixed in with the onlookers squealed. Chika got more irritated.

"Stop that! Why can't you just be… be more normal?! The only time you're normal is when we fight!"

"Do you like fighting, Chika-chan?"

He hesitated. "Look, last night was an exception. We have to, it's tradition! So stop gabbling and let's just get this over with."

"No." Honey said, simply.

"What? You have to…"

"No."

"Why not?" Chika demanded, frustrated. "The only time you're normal is when you fight, and besides, we have to, so let's just-"

"You enjoy it when we fight." Honey interrupted, beginning to walk away. "You like the challenge, and how I'm 'normal' when we do. You want me to be normal all the time and not enjoy bunnies and flowers and cakes and rainbows and sweets and toys and-"

"Shut up and fight me already!"

"No."

"Why not?!"

Honey simply asked again. "You enjoy it, don't you?" He seemed to think a minute, and added: "I'm sorry, Chika-chan, I guess it is selfish of me to stop you doing something you enjoy… but there's no time now!" He walked away, stating how now was the time to go home and eat some sort of dessert. He seemed to be listing all the different types he would have.

"And strawberry and chocolate and vanilla and banana and lemon and orange and fruit and double chocolate and triple chocolate and white chocolate and dark chocolate…"

Chika stared after him in disbelief, stared after his weird, unnatural, strange, strange, strange, older brother.

No way his earlier words could have been deliberate. Yet, still, all that night, they wouldn't get out of Chika's head.

I guess it is selfish of me to stop you doing something you enjoy…

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Almost seven months on, and the twins had run out of the club again. No-one went after them or stopped them this time; because when your driver turns up and politely requests that you travel to the hospital as your mother is currently half-way through giving birth, you go.

So the twins went. Of course, by the time they got there, it was practically all over. Their dad came out of the delivery room, looking a little pale but otherwise okay, just long enough to assure them that yes, their mother was fine; and to add that so was the baby, a tiny, newborn, baby girl.

Then there was simply waiting to be done, while the doctors cleaned up and moved mother and baby to one of the rooms. The wait was pretty much spent in silence, and Hikaru felt the same thoughts buzzing around his head that had been the last seven months. Normally he squashed them down and away, and he would have done today, but it was very hard not to think about the sibling he did not want and could not stop the coming of when she had already arrived.

He wasn't against the baby, as such. He just didn't want things to change, and he didn't want the responsibility. He knew it was supposed to be a happy thing, and he should be grateful and excited, ecstatic, elated.

But he wasn't. He felt utterly miserable.

Still. When they were beckoned into the room, and he saw his mother's tired but happy face mirrored in his father's as he held what appeared to be a bundle of blankets, Hikaru forced the corners of his lips to rise as his heart sank; leaving the obligatory statements and questions about how their mother felt to Kaoru.

"Hikaru." His dad smiled at him. "Here. Hold her."

Hikaru meant to back away. He had no interest in doing any such thing and besides, he'd probably only hurt it or drop it. He wasn't the sort to be looking after babies. But it was too late, it was in his arms, and he sat down on the edge of the bed, so if he dropped it at least it had a chance of landing on a soft mattress. Kaoru came and sat beside him, looking on in curiosity.

Hikaru looked too, at the tiny, soft, wrinkly little thing in his arms. Too small. He felt as if he would crush her if he pressed to hard. So small, and fragile, and delicate.

Much like a lot of precious things, he realised.

He sighed a little, and handed her over to Kaoru. As he did so, he quietly whispered his first words to her, welcoming her to his world.

"Do you have any idea how many headaches you've caused me?" He demanded.

She didn't answer.

"What's her name?" Kaoru asked, getting to the important stuff. They'd asked their parents before hand, of course, but the two had flatly refused to tell them, saying they had a few in mind but wouldn't know until they saw the child.

"We haven't had chance to talk about it yet…" Their father said, looking at their mother, who was still smiling.

"No." She agreed. "But I can't help but think-"

"That it will have to be-"

"Sumiko."

They grinned in childish delight that they had both known the same thing. Kaoru turned to the parcel in his arms, which seemed to be more blanket then baby.

"Ah, okay. Hello, Sumiko." He wasn't quite sure what one was meant to say in these sort of circumstances, when meeting a sibling for the first time.

The room fell into silence.

"Well, Hikaru…" Their mother said eventually, not as oblivious to the older twin's feelings as he would have hoped. "What do you think?"

"I think…" Hikaru hesitated, looking over at his sister. "That those hospital blankets are hideous. We'll bring a nicer one tomorrow."

Kaoru nodded his agreement. "Hey, does Kyouya-senpai's family run this hospital? We could get him to do something."

"Something needs doing."

"Really bad."

"You're completely right, of course." Their mom agreed. "Fancy welcoming a baby into the world with hospital blankets with such messy stitching…"

"Boys." Their dad interrupted. "I think she meant about Sumiko."

The twins looked at each other, and then shrugged.

"Guess we'll get used to it."

And so they did. In fact, in a matter of weeks, Haruhi would be teasing them for being so ridiculously proud and overprotective of their baby sister to the extent that she had almost upstaged Haruhi as their favourite 'toy'. But, as they explained, Sumiko was not a 'toy'.

Haruhi had to wonder what the criteria were to qualify to be a person and why she didn't have them. She also had to wonder what kind of person this innocent child would be moulded into with brothers like that. She couldn't quite decide if it was good that they were already planning to involve Sumiko in their tricks when she got older or if she would have been better off having the tricks played on her.

The twins, however, were delighted; and their, for the moment, blissfully unaware sister slept each night under a blanket they had made for her the day she was born.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Six hundred and fifty seven days of suffering through his sister's pregnancy and the first fifteen months or so of his nephew's life, Kyouya had one serious headache and a surprise he didn't quite know what to do with; courtesy of his older sister. Thankfully, Haruhi had just arrived to assist. He looked up as she was shown into the room.

"You're late." He accused.

"I got lost." She explained, not sounding too happy.

"I gave you sufficient directions to the house."

"I got lost inside the house. I had to ask for directions inside your house. You could fit ten of my flat in this place."

"Twelve, actually." Kyouya smirked at her. She came and sat beside him.

"That look doesn't have quite the same effect when you have a lap full of toddler." Haruhi brushed it off, waving at the wide-eyed child who seemed to have taken up permanent residence on Kyouya's lap.

He seemed quite happy with this, waving shyly back at Haruhi with one hand and gripping onto Kyouya's shirt with the other.

Kyouya was not so happy with this arrangement.

She laughed at his expression, but, as she always did, spoke straight to the little boy, a year and a quarter or so old.

"How do you do, Takano-chan? Has your mom left you in the Shadow King's clutches again?"

The boy giggled uncertainly, though he wasn't really old enough to understand and, thankfully, wasn't yet talking very much at all- it seemed he would be a quiet child, and totally unlike his mother. He did, however, reach out and cling onto Haruhi's t-shirt as well, linking the three of them together and meaning that the two students were almost uncomfortably close. Haruhi gently pulled away.

"I'm not baby-sitting for you, Kyouya." She said, bluntly, wondering if that was why she had been called in to assist.

"I don't know what to do with him." Kyouya huffed. "I don't understand why Fuyumi always leaves him with me when there are many fully-qualified and very capable members of staff that-"

"She trusts you, and so does Takano-chan, for some strange reason." Haruhi shrugged. "Women get very overprotective of their children."

"Trust me, I know." Kyouya said, unable to take it anymore and heaving Takano off his lap, dumping him onto the floor. "How many times must we go through this?" He said in disgust to the little boy. "My shirt is not to be drooled on. It is not the appropriate receptacle for any substance you secrete, at all."

Takano seemed to have lost interest and was looking around the room with an expression of surprise, as if he hadn't seen it before, or had suddenly noticed an interesting pattern on the wallpaper. Haruhi felt the same way. This was her first visit to the house, and the wealth was almost overwhelming. In addition, there was the problem that Takano would not amuse himself for long and would soon be demanding entertainment.

His favourite word seemed to be 'story'. Kyouya often wondered why his nephew liked them so much when he didn't know half the words.

He refused to read anymore 'stories'. None of the ones Takano enjoyed had a hint of plot or character development anyway.

The two of them sat without inspiration in a sofa so expensive Haruhi hardly dared recline into it. So she stood up.

"Let's take him out." She said, spontaneously.

Kyouya looked at her.

"Somewhere with a crèche."

He was beginning to seem like he could be won around. But something jarred with him, the idea of it being him, and Haruhi, and a young child. People would talk. "Just the three of us?"

"Not unless you want to invite the twins and Sumiko." She answered, easily.

"Point taken. Takano! Shall we go out?"

The little boy nodded solemnly, plodded across the room, and grabbed hold of Kyouya's hand. Kyouya had to restrain himself from pulling away again. He felt so ridiculous, and in front of Haruhi too, who was obviously trying not to laugh. Yet, then Takano grabbed hold of her hand too, and the three of them were once again a chain.

And if Takano were ever to slip away, perhaps Kyouya's hand would have found hers, held tightly and not let go, not pulling away.

Unfortunately, the kid clung on.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Really, Haruhi thought. This place is like an Ouran reunion. Almost twenty-two years old and I still can't say no to them…

But, despite her grumbling, she didn't really mind. The whole club was there, in the hall's large, excited audience and enjoying both each other's company and what was being played out below them.

"…and they hit each other with the sticks until someone falls over and screams and then he's out and the other guy wins." Sumiko, six and proud, was knowledgably explaining to Tamaki, who was nodding.

"Ah, I see…Well, I happen to know Mori is very good at this, so I'm sure you'll enjoy it." He smiled down at the little girl, who, seemingly delighted at the attention, continued. Haruhi saw the twins roll their eyes but knew they didn't mean it. They made sure to see their sister regularly, and this had overlapped with a day they had planned to take her out.

"…and the clothes are good 'cause there's no buttons or zips to dig in when they fall down and they're loose so the guy can jump around, but I think that they'd look much nicer if they were a brighter colour."

"Hmm, yes, perhaps we should ask about that…" Tamaki answered, smiling. Sumiko smiled back, then turned to her other side, tugging on her brother's sleeve. Hikaru looked down at her, and she knelt up on the seat to whisper in his ear.

"Hikaru-nii-san… You've brought your camera, right? Take lots of pictures of Tamaki-san for me, okay?"

Hikaru looked down on her in horror. Then he blinked, and relaxed just the smallest bit. "Sumi… Why don't you swap seats with Kaoru for a while, and talk to Takano-kun while we're waiting?"

"But I'm talking to Tamaki-san…"

Hikaru glared at the man in question who seemingly didn't know what expression to pull and looked away. Hikaru unceremoniously lifted his little sister up and out of harm's way.

Haruhi looked down the row a little, from where she was sitting between Kyouya and Honey. On Kyouya's other side was Takano, chatting happily to Sumiko- who was actually doing most of the talking, and which was what had drawn her attention to begin with. She wasn't quite sure what Takano was doing there, but she suspected Fuyumi had somehow twisted Kyouya's arm to take the boy to watch his first ever kendo championship. She wasn't sure, however, how much twisting had been necessary. Kyouya was surprisingly close to his nephew, almost like brothers, in his own strange way. She looked as Kyouya explained something on the programme to the two kids and couldn't help but smile. He turned and saw her smirking.

"And you," He said, firmly, putting a hand to her chin and turning her head to face the front. "Just watch the show."

Honey saw the contact and teased lightly. "Ahh, Kyou-chan, are you going to kiss her?"

"Oja-san! No!" Takano protested.

"But it's romantic…" Sumiko protested, and the loud voices alerted the rest of the row. The twins turned.

"Ah, are Haruhi and Kyouya-senpai finally making out up there?" They asked, wryly.

"What?" Tamaki's voice came from the other end of the row. "I'm very happy for you both, but please, not in front of the children!"

"I'm not that little." Sumiko said indignantly. "I'm almost seven!"

"Ah, not you, Sumi-chan… I meant, ah, there are probably other kids in the audience and… ah…"

"Just kill me now." Kyouya groaned into his hands. He could see Haruhi looking at him through the gaps in his fingers, and see her red face.

"Ah, don't worry about it…" She said, and then added, very quietly: "Perhaps later."

Kyouya looked up sharply, wondering if he'd heard correctly. However, before he could press that matter, Honey was speaking.

"Ah, here we go!" He said cheerily, as if he was perfectly innocent. The argument between the twins and Tamaki about who had corrupted Sumiko the most ceased as they turned to watch the national kendo finals.

"This is an exciting match folks!" The commentator said. "Junior champion from the age of twelve and now reigning national champion for six years, Morinozuka Takashi-sama seems like he may well do it again this year; but we mustn't rule out his opponent. Only nineteen years old and this is his first time in the finals, he's putting up a good fight…"

Down on ground level, they leapt around the dojo. Mori may have been extremely tall, so big, but he was still very fast. The staffs clashed again and again in the air, each of them leaping and swinging and dodging and flinching, landing blows and absorbing them. The match wore on and on with an impressive array of skill, an intricate dance indeed, but there would always have to be a winner, and eventually one of them fell to the floor.

"Yes! Amazing!" The commentator crowed as the victor shook hands with the runner-up. "That's it! It's all over! Morinozuka-san is the winner!"

The two had removed their masks, and they smiled at each other.

"Good match," Mori said, eventually. "Satoshi."

"You too, Nii-san." Satoshi replied, with a weak smile that suggested he was quite unable to believe the cries coming from the sound system. "…First time I've ever won and it's here…"

"You did well."

And the commentator continued to marvel at Morinozuka Satoshi's marvelous win, and the name was repeated over and over as Satoshi was given his awards and congratulated by everyone, his friends and his brother's friends and his parents and, perhaps most importantly of all, that one amazing girl who he had met at the start of college, who threw her arms around him in delight and it felt better to him than winning the title had.

Then, they went out for a meal in celebration, the Morinozuka family and their x-nd cousins. And Honey and Chika sat side by side, and the younger marvelled and was a little repulsed about how easily his brother still packed away sweets, though it was duly and gratefully noted it was far less than he had once got through; that the boy had grown into a man.

When Honey and Chika fought nowadays, it was just a friendly competition. Just two brothers doing something they enjoyed with one another.

Even if Chika didn't quite understand why Usa-chan now kept constant and silent vigil on a shelf high up on the walls of the dojo in Honey's house, and Honey couldn't quite comprehend what was wrong with that.

All in all, Mori was satisfied with how things had turned out. He was proud of Satoshi for stealing his title- although he would, of course, reclaim it the following year- and he was glad his brother had got over his one-time crush on Haruhi. He was glad everyone else had too, apart from one, and now Kyouya and Haruhi could draw closer and closer. He was glad Haruhi never had a chance to be lonely anymore, and that Kyouya had learnt to care about people thanks to the gentle nudgings of his sister, and that the twins had let Sumiko into their circle and that Honey and Chika could sit together without resentment.

Yes, Mori was satisfied. But not entirely. They were all pretty sorted people now, Tamaki, perhaps, most of all. He had managed to be named successor to the Suoh assets after all, worked happily and productively with his father ready for when he would take over fully in another few years. He was always smiling, often laughing, really very happy in his life and with what he had.

But even when his grandmother had died, Tamaki had not gone back to find his mother.

At least, not yet.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Tamaki woke up one morning and realised it had been a decade since he had left France. He blinked a little, because it was an odd thought, but he realised that yes, it was correct, he had left ten years ago to the day.

Ten years since he had seen his mother.

He frowned, and got up. He had often considered going to find her, particularly after his grandmother had passed away a few years ago. He hadn't thought about it at the funeral, or the first few weeks afterwards, and he tried to grieve for her. After all, however she treated him, she was the one who had rescued his mother's failing finances, reunited him with his father, set him up to inherit a multi-national company and brought him to a country where he met his best friends.

Of course, she had also enforced a communication black hole between mother and son, taken him away from his home, practically blackmailed them both.

Tamaki didn't like to disrespect the dead. He didn't want to think that his mother wouldn't remember him, or that he wouldn't be recognised. He didn't want to break his promise, their bargain. But as he got dressed that morning, he realised, quite suddenly, he didn't care anymore.

He picked up the phone in his room and arranged a flight to France later that day. There were some advantages to being rich.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

By the age of ten, Faith had realised there were some advantages to being rich. She had also realised that she and her fellow students at a school for rich people were wealthier than the average person. What she hadn't yet come to face was the epiphany most children of wealthy families suffered through between the ages of sixteen and thirty- that they had been born into wealth, had not earnt it, and without their parents support they would not have it.

Yet, perhaps Faith was a little better equipped to deal with it then most, because she was well aware of how easily money could be lost. Mama had told her all the stories of her older brother, and, not so long ago, had finally told her the truth of why he left France, how he went to Japan in exchange for money. Faith wasn't quite sure what she was meant to feel. It was obviously a big confession for her mother, and she supposed she was grateful to her mysterious brother, but it really didn't make too much of a difference. Ever since she was tiny Faith had heard tales of him, but really, he may as well have been a character from a fairy tale. The only real difference it made was that she didn't mind the stares and the whispered words, the scandal mama had caused by having a child out of a wedlock and the father running off- again. She didn't mind because she knew mama would have been lonely without her girl- or her son, Faith supposed, but he was always an afterthought.

So when she arrived home from school she was hardly expecting to see him sitting on a settee in the living room with mama, who'd she'd been running in to tell about how Georges had told her she was pretty and wanted to kiss her. He looked up as she entered, violet eyes peering out from under blond hair. She recognised him, even though she had never met him, she knew him. She remained silent, wondering if she was supposed to recognise him or if it was a secret.

"Hello." She said, eventually.

"Hello, Faith." Her- no, their-mother smiled forcibly. "Did you have a good day?"

"Yeah."

She tried, but she couldn't stop staring at the man, trying to relate him to the guy she knew from the stories. Physically he fit the bill, but… it was all wrong, like a unicorn riding a dragon had suddenly pranced across the garden. He wasn't meant to be here.

Was he?

Perhaps her mother knew she knew. Perhaps her brother knew, or perhaps mama had been going to tell her straight away all along. Either way, mama said, slowly:

"Faith, this is Tamaki. Your brother. He's come to visit for a while."

"Half brother." Faith muttered, absently, then allowed herself to stare openly at him. He seemed as nervous as she did, but smiled a little, that charming smile. Mama hadn't been exaggerating.

"Faith… it's nice to meet you." He said, and his French sounded all funny, like he couldn't decide what accent to have.

"Hello." She answered, looking at this elegant creature who had come into her and mama's home. Who's home it had been first.

They stood in an awkward silence for quite some time. Then, eventually, she excused herself and left. She went to her favourite room in the house, and played, and tried to let the notes swirl round in her head rather than all those troublesome thoughts of what she thought of suddenly having a brother and wondering what he was going to do now he was here.

At that moment, he was going to enter the music room. He had waited till she had finished her piece to come in; like he knew how annoying it was to have to stop half way through. But she couldn't draw the final note out any longer. She had to lower the violin, and her escape, down, and face him.

"Very nice." He commented, entering further into the room. "Very impressive, too. Most of the great virtuosos had very large hands, you know, which was how they could reach so many notes on a piano- or on a violin, I guess. It's great that you can play that well when you just have normal-sized hands."

She looked at him, wondering what he was talking about and what she was meant to say. She didn't want to be rude but she simply couldn't think of anything to say in reply. He seemed awkward, and she supposed that was why he started talking about large hands. There were more important things to be said- problem was, she couldn't identify what they were.

He had moved to the piano. She knew, of course, that he played; mama had said so. That was why they had kept the instrument, Faith supposed, because she couldn't make head nor tail or it and mama rarely played. When she did she often cried.

Or maybe they were just rich enough to keep it.

To Faith, music was alive, each melody was formed of the relationships between the personalities of the notes and the moods they were in at the time. She loved how she could coax entire worlds out of her violin. Music had a heart beat and a pulse, and that meant it was alive. But the piano she had always considered dead, a relic, silent as the grave.

Now she knew that it was simply dormant, waiting for the right person to play it, waiting for the right hands to come and navigate over black and white and dance with the notes. And dance his fingers did, bringing out another world.

One she knew. Her favourite.

She wondered if mama had told him, if he liked it too, or if he had just known. But then she picked up her violin and played with him, and the world became more vivid and more real and more silencing to her thoughts then ever before. The piece finished, and this time she started another, and he joined in.

And those thoughts seemed more irrelevant then ever.

There was ten years between them, or fourteen if you did it by age. But in the music, they were never so much as a beat apart. The music played on, and finally, after the fifth piece, Faith lowered her violin, and her guard.

"Tell me about Japan."

Tamaki smiled at her.

One of the many benefits of being rich was that they could afford foreign holidays, and over the school summer break that year Faith went to Japan. She got to know Tamaki better and he even arranged it so he could meet all those high school friends of his. She'd asked if Kyouya and Haruhi were a couple, but they'd just sort of blushed and flustered.

She took that as a yes.

All in all, Faith was glad that she had met her brother, and Tamaki was glad to have her in his life; and the twins doted on their little sister; and Mori's brother was also one of his best friends; and Honey and Chika had developed a tolerance for each other even if they still did not quite understand each other. Kyouya still complained about his family, his sister and his nephew and his brother and parents, but everyone knew he just liked not liking them; and Haruhi had met them all now and found them to be perfectly pleasant. She certainly didn't wish she'd had brothers and sisters now she'd seen how exhausting they could be.

Back in their Host Club days, Tamaki had constantly been assigning family roles to them all. An odd game, but one that worked. Haruhi had always considered that so-called family dysfunctional, but looking at these real life ones…

All things considered, being an only child was probably a good thing.

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