Wow! This is the longest piece of writing I've ever made before! Holy crap, you guys, I'm so proud of myself! XD

And, in case you're wondering why I chose "Wisteria" to be the title of this one-shot... well, it has a beautiful symbolism to it that I loved. And, it's kind of a play on Haruhi's last name, "Fujioka". The wisteria flower stands for things like Love, Grace, Memory, and Endurance. But it also means Releasing Burdens, Victory Over Hardship, and the Duality of Love. I thought it was very fitting for this.

And, also, just a little warning: this one-shot gets rather depressing towards the end, but I tried to make it a little more light-hearted, at the same time. And I'm sorry for any errors you might find in here. But, either way, I hope you enjoy!

~Fallen

~ Wisteria ~

It was well-known to the friends of Fujioka Haruhi that she, to be put bluntly, wasn't very skilled when it came to the topic of emotion.

She could be the top of every single one of her classes, all the way from primary, into high school. She could balance her schoolwork, housework, do the shopping, even have the occasional part-time or summer job, all while meeting and maintaining the standards of her scholarship. She rubbed elbows with some of the most famous, wealthy, and sought-out people in Japan – both men and women – and she was more than proud to say that six of these said people were her closest, most dearest of friends, who she knew would gladly lay down their entire fortunes if it were to make her happy in life. She had a father, who also did his best to try and be the mother Haruhi had never had the chance to have – at least, not to the full extent – ever since his beloved wife had passed away from an illness when the girl was only six years of age. She could easily make her mark in one of the top-class law schools that Japan had to offer, entirely on her own. She had friends and family she could rely on and turn to when it was needed. She could easily tackle any court case sent to her head-on, and turn out triumphant for her client in the end.

Need someone to keep you from a life-long sentence to a maximum-security prison? Fujioka was your woman.

Need some dating advice? Well... let's just say, one would be much better off consulting another type of professional for that.

Maybe that's what made her so... her. Honestly, her father, her coworkers, and her friends couldn't picture Haruhi without that rather trademarked apathy that seemed to drift around her like a soft, misty cloud. Not that this... detached personality was particularly a bad thing... it... just made any aspects outside of school, work, her father, or the former Ouran Host Club members rather difficult for her to connect with. Her indifference made her the level head in an otherwise panicked situation, the ray of light that guides one through the darkness of their uncertainty in stressful times...

The voice of reason that everyone tended to ignore when her fellow Ouran graduates hatched another haired-brained scheme involving some sort of misadventure in the world of "commoners".

Honestly, with entire companies and estates to run and maintain, one would think they had just a little less free-time in their lives.

Not that Haruhi didn't like spending time with the group of young men she'd come to see as brothers, but honestly. A four-day-long trip filled with nothing but browsing every last apparel store they saw? All to help fuel the Hitachiin twins' less-than-lacking muses for their newest clothing line? Not only did she know for a fact that Hikaru and Kaoru had the entire line planned out at this point (really, they'd even shown her pictures of the works-in-progress!), but she swore to every god that could hear her that if she heard one more shout of "mass production!" from the two devils, she'd smack them both upside the head so hard, their next "inspiration" would be the stars swirling in their vision!

But, to get back onto the topic at-hand, here...

Yes, Haruhi wasn't very good at conveying emotion – nor reading it in others, for that matter. It was amazing, really, how successful the young woman had become in her expertise, despite this little quirk, of sorts.

One could only imagine the shock, surprise, and excitement those around her held when she announced one day, that she and a young man she'd met in law school were courting. Well... that, mixed in with a little bit of jealousy – and some suspicion, even, on the former Hosts' parts.

His name was Saito Mamoru. He was rather handsome, with a fair complexion devoid of any blemishes, smooth, soft auburn tresses that Haruhi found rather entertaining to play with when she had nothing better to occupy her hands with, and bright, beautiful green eyes that had ensnared her and drawn her to him ever since they first laid eyes upon each other, several years ago.

Orphaned at a young age, he had been adopted into the wealthy Saito family, mostly as a cover-up scheme to hide some large scandal a few decades past, which obviously worked out well for the middle-aged married couple who had taken the poor, parent-less boy beneath their wing. And though they did grow to love and care for the child, he had confided to Haruhi that there had always been a wall, of sorts, between them. Something that kept them from being a true, loving family, like he and his biological parents should have been.

"I try not to think about it," Mamoru had once said to her, as he escorted her home after a dinner-date (walking, per the young lady's request) one night, gazing at the stars and absently rambling on about their childhood, "But... it really bothers me."

"What does?" Haruhi had asked him, her large, brown eyes flicking over to meet with his own, stunning green. Just a moment's glance to them made her cheeks want to flush warmly, though she would always push the flutter-y feeling in her heart and the butterflies in her belly stubbornly away. She was a professional, grown woman! Not some silly schoolgirl with a crush!

Mamoru had shrugged, casting her a somber smile, before gazing up at what little starlight that could be spotted from behind the wispy clouds above. "Just... my parents. Wondering who they really were, what they looked like, how they acted." He had chuckled then, looking both sad and a little bit amused. "I don't really remember much about my life, before I was adopted. But, the one thing I do recall, is my mother's voice. I remember, every night, she used to sing me this sweet little lullaby... sometimes, I'd catch her humming it to herself when she was cleaning the house, or cooking. And I remember, that I'd always feel so loved, and safe..." They had stopped walking, and Mamoru's sharp, spring-green eyes had drifted shut. The hints of a smile pulled at the corners of his lips.

"But... I never really felt the same way about the parents I have now. Though I am extremely grateful for all they've done for me... there's always been this barrier between us, that keeps me from being their son. Not just biologically, but mentally, emotionally." He had turned back to her then, a large, beaming grin on his face. "One day, Haruhi, I'll have your hand for my own! And then, we can have our own children, to raise and love and care for. We can give them that childhood bond that I used to have, together!"

Haruhi had flustered at the mention of marriage and children – though at this point, they had dating for nearly a year, and were both only a semester's time away from earning their degrees. The heads of the Saito family seemed to approve of the girl, despite her lowly, commoner background. But, they seemed to have a certain respect for her hardworking, honest personality and upbringing that most wealthy folk didn't seem to have, and she admired them for that. So, as the smile tugged at her lips, and Mamoru's hand closed firmly over her own, she gave a rare giggle, looking up bashfully to reconnect her earthy-toned irises with his own forest-green.

"I like the sound of that," she had said, squeezing his own hand back, just as firmly. And, as the two had leaned in for a kiss beneath the moonlight, their future was sealed, and Haruhi knew she had found the man that she wanted to spend the rest of her days with.

Their betrothal came not long after that – with the blessing of the twenty-five-year-old's father, of course – and within another six-month span, the two were happily married in a lavish but quiet ceremony, consisting of family and friends from both sides, along a few close business partners on her newlywed husband's behalf. It was only polite, after all, to invite those closest to them in the trade, to observe and meet the joining of the heir, and the young bride who would now be entering the business of the Saito family. Even the most formal-toned, stiff-backed of the noblemen and women seemed to have been absolutely smitten with Haruhi's quiet, somewhat reserved, but not-at-all submissive mannerisms, and her industrious, determined mindset. This was a woman who had goals in life, and had every intention of meeting them before even a single strand of her now-shoulder-length, chestnut hair could gray. Despite her lacking of a "pedigree", so to speak, they could find a deep respect, and maybe even a fondness, growing towards her as time led on.

After Hikaru and Kaoru helped her style her hair, apply cosmetics to her smooth skin, and change into a custom-made wedding gown our their own, unique design, specifically for their dear friend on her wedding day...

"You look beautiful, Haru-chan," Kaoru Hitachiin had murmured to her, as he put the finishing touches to her makeup. He and his twin both looked about ready to shed a happy tear or two.

"Absolutely radiant," Hikaru had added smoothly in reply, not missing a beat as he took his brother's place, to carefully place the veil over her face. "Better be careful, Haruhi," he had teased with a wide smile, "You might blind someone with how much you're glowing right now."

She had only beamed more, and carefully embraced the two in a hug. The feeling of their arms draping over her shoulders in that loose, yet protective way of theirs reminding her of their Host Club days, when the Little Devils had called dibs on the female-disguised-as-male as their own, personal "toy".

Honestly, she kind of missed those days, even if she had to try and keep up the facade about her actual gender constantly. But, deep down, she was glad for those moments, cross-dressing and secret-keeping included. Hell, even after she revealed to the school on the night of their graduation her true sex, she had been otherwise accepted by many of her friends and regulars, and even kept in contact with a good amount of them. In fact, a few of them were currently seated outside, waiting for the blushing bride to make her appearance.

"Thanks, you two..." she murmured, trying to not tear up, through fear of ruining the Hitachiin Twins' hard work, "I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here to help me celebrate today..."

Their arms squeezed more firmly around her, and Haruhi could only smile.

After being walked down the aisle, and given away by Ranka to Tamaki's nimble fingers, as they played out a symbolic interpretation of the classic Here Comes the Bride, with a special Suou flare of the jovial blonde's creation...

The song was a classic, and some would argue that it was cliched. But to Haruhi, it was perfect. The wedding song Here Comes the Bride seemed only fitting for a wedding. As she hooked her arm loosely with that of her father's – who looked quite dashing in his suit, his hair straight, and face devoid of all but a little bit of powdered foundation when it came to his own makeup – Haruhi could still only find it in her to smile. The butterflies had increased tenfold, and though it didn't make her feel nauseous, as she had expected, it sent... thrills of excitement through her.

Today, she was getting married to the man of her dreams. In just a few moments, she'd be at the alter, exchanging words and rings, and legally joining the Saito family. Living on happily with Mamoru in "holy matrimony", as the term went. The rest of the room had risen to their feet, and Haruhi's eyes darted over to the excitable blonde Frenchman who sat at the head of a beautiful, ebony, ivory-keyed piano. Their gazes met, for only a split second, and Tamaki sent her a delighted grin, before turning back to his musical masterpiece, his fingers gliding effortlessly across the keys with that trance-like focus Tamaki seemed to have, reserved only for the moments like these.

Her eyes looked back up to the end of the aisle, just a few feet away, to where her soon-to-be husband stood. His smile was so wide, it almost looked painful, and the amount of love in his eyes almost made Haruhi's lungs hitch.

As her father gently squeezed her arm within her own, and Haruhi returned the pressure, her eyes were only set on Mamoru. She could hardly wait for those last few minutes to drift by. The last moments of being a Fujioka, and legally becoming a Saito.

And as the vows were said, the rings were exchange, and the veil was lifted, Haruhi knew for sure that this was the start of a new chapter in her life, filled with all the adventures she had yet to witness.

The beginning of her "happily ever after", with a prince all her own.

After the cutting of the cake, baked and beautifully decorated by Hani and Mori, themselves...

More cheering erupted as the newlywed couple placed the first slice evenly onto the cake's side, with Haruhi's hands over the handle, and her husband's placed firmly atop of them. She actually felt quite guilty for marring the surface of such a beautiful creation – Hani and Mori had really outdone themselves with this one!

It was a simple, yet elegant white cake with similarly colored frosting, smoothed to a marble-like perfection. With three tiers, it was somewhat large, but not excessively so. Each pillar was designed like an obelisk, with little vines of ivy crafted expertly over and around them in green frosting. There was an array of confectionery roses made from the stuff, as well, placed strategically along the ridges and surfaces of the cake. The colors consisted of a pristine white, luscious red, delicate purple, light blue, soft orange, sweet pink, and deep navy. A tribute, of sorts, to her Host Club days, and how the group of friends met. How Haruhi entered this world, and the moment that had practically destined Haruhi and Mamoru to meet. And yet, despite the array of colors, the tones were softened and placed around the tiers in such a way that didn't overwhelm the rest of the cake. And with a few, muted-green leaves and vines sprouting off of the rose piles here and there, the look was truly complete.

As the bride and groom took turns to playfully feed one another a forkful of the delicious, celebratory dessert, she sent the two cousins a look and a smile, silently thanking them with a gratitude that words could not speak for making this day all the more special.

Hani had beamed back, while Mori's own smile was much smaller, and more reserved. They both sent her a subtle "thumbs-up" motion, and she couldn't help but the give a soft laugh at the gesture.

After the toasts and short speech given by the best man, a title which Mamoru had more than happily gave to none other than Kyouya – to which, the Shadow King seemed unable to resist a little bit of playful jesting – even if it was rather out-of-character for him.

"Haruhi is a confident, strong, independent young woman," he had said, "God knows how long her new husband will be able to survive..." This sent some laughter through the crowd. The Shadow King adjusted the way his spectacles rested over the bridge of his nose, unable to resist the urge to toss in a genuine smile and send it their way.

Not a smirk, or a grin. A real, soft, heartfelt smile. Haruhi wasn't sure if she could handle such vivid, authentic emotion being so openly shown from the usually-manipulative man.

"But, in all seriousness... I'm sure I speak for us all, when I wish Haruhi and Mamoru good luck, and happiness in their new lives together." He raised his flute of champagne, just a little, and tipped it politely in their direction, before proposing a small toast in their honor.

The gentle tnking of glasses at their edges delicately tapped rang through the room like crystals, and it was absolute music to the bride's ears.

As Kyouya sat back down, she sent him a teasing grin, "What? No threats to raise any debts, Kyouya-sempai?" she chirped playfully, laughing quietly as the man rolled his eyes with mock-annoyance. "It seems as though you really do have a heart, somewhere in there."

Kyouya, again, adjusted his glasses, the light glinting from the lenses in a quick flash that partially concealed a fraction of his cool, grayish eyes. His smile was smug, though... caring, in its own, Otori way. He chuckled.

"Run into any priceless items here, and I suppose we'll see about that, won't we?"

Ah, yes... the wedding had been a dream come true.

Their honeymoon, like the reception, had also been fairly quiet, and in her husband's form of "simple". Simple being, a getaway trip to some sort of... private island, in the tropics, with a beautiful beach-side manor several meters away from the sandy shoreline, behind it a small courtyard, lined by tropic trees, and flowers growing freely just about anywhere their roots had managed to take hold. Sweetening the air around them with their floral perfume, and practically making the hardworking lawyer swoon as the boat – which Mamoru's parents had lent to them for the trip over – docked. The waters were clear and warm, the sand soft and powdery, and the breeze at a temperature that was just low enough to keep one cool, but still so warm as to keep them from becoming too cold.

They'd have an entire month here in this little paradise away from the hustle-and-bustle of their inner-city lives, with only the cleaning staff to enter their little sanctuary. Only, instead of keeping a residence on the island, as they had before to maintain the house and grounds, they would instead be there, only on the last day of the week, to clean and do... well, whatever it was that they did to keep things in order. And, even though it was their jobs to keep things spic-and-span, Haruhi still tried her best to make the job easier on them, which she could tell was appreciated when they came along that first Sunday afternoon.

But, one thing was somewhat... amiss, during that trip. Nearly two weeks in, their little vacation almost halfway through, Haruhi had continued to be a little... unresponsive, so to speak, to her new husband's... advances. From the first night they had spent alone, it was pretty obvious that Mamoru was dead set on starting up that big, happy family of theirs as soon as possible. But, despite his attempts to entice his bride into bed with him, Haruhi persisted. Though, she did feel rather guilty about it. She felt like she was ruining their perfect day!

But, Mamoru, ever the gentleman, had backed off before he stepped past his wife's boundaries. It was fine, he had soothed, instead settling for pulling the woman close to his chest, intent on cuddling her until sleep claimed them both. He was willing to wait as long as she needed for this.

And, it wasn't until they prepared to go to bed on their twelfth night away, that Haruhi confided her fears to him.

She was afraid that he'd be... disappointed. She wasn't exactly the most... "developed" of women her age. She was still rather short, having only grown about an inch or so since her days at Ouran Academy. Her figure had developed more womanly curves to it, they were still rather subtle, and not at all what she had pictured a "perfect woman" having. Though, she was rather pleased to say that her chest had grown a little bit – not by much, mind you, but she wasn't "washboard flat" anymore. It wasn't much, but it was enough to where she wasn't quite as easily mistaken for male instead of female.

And, well... though it was embarrassing to admit... she hadn't... exactly... "bloomed", so to speak? Well, she had, but... it was rather... late, and... wasn't as constant. Not that she had particularly minded that little detail – after all, it had only made things that much easier when she had to keep up the guise of being the opposite sex. And, after the cat was out of the bag, she didn't really think much on it.

Now, however...? Her flaws were something that she came to be very self-conscious about with her husband. What if she disappointed him, somehow? Or what if she wasn't what he had expected?

Mamoru had laughed at that, his fingers brushing through her short hair – she had grown rather attached to the look and easy management of her boyish hairdo – and trying to soothe her insecurities. Anything she was willing to share with him would be a blessing, he had said.

Before she could comprehend, Haruhi's lips had met with Mamoru's own, and she was swept into an endless night of love and euphoria. Compliments of her beauty and quiet declarations of his adoration and love for her were whispered from his lips the entire time, as the couple lost themselves in each other. And when Haruhi woke the next morning, still wrapped in his arms, she honestly could not fathom a time where she had felt more complete.

They had silently agreed with one another, that they would try for that family they had talked about so frequently in the days both before and after their engagement. No waiting, they were ready to start their new lives together as parents. And, in the six months following the day of their wedding, both were overjoyed to find that, through a routine check-up at the hospital, a little bundle of joy was on the way for the pair.

They had been ecstatic, and Haruhi had immediately set up a get-together with her close friends from high-school, and her father as well. Mamoru had delivered the news to his own family on a less... personal means, calling up his mother from their home (he had insisted upon buying a house separate from the Saito estate, for both matters of privacy, and for the comfort of simplicity that he knew his wife had always preferred in her life), and relaying the message that way.

Either way, the large group had gone out for dinner at some high-end restaurant (this, per Mamoru's request. It was an important announcement, so why spare the expense on something so exciting?). And, as desert was served to them, the young woman had gotten their attention, breaking the quiet chatter, before breaking the news.

She was pregnant. Only about four weeks along, but come spring, she and Mamoru would be parents – and, she had added teasingly, her father would finally have that grandchild he had always teased her about when she was little.

There had been laughter, some cheering, and many, many hugs from her friends. Even Kyouya and offered her a quick, one-armed embrace as she, in her excitement, had mindlessly gripped the usually unresponsive medical professional around his shoulders. Her father had even shed a couple of tears, and fret over his beloved daughter for the remainder of their time together that night.

Haruhi had been the happiest woman alive at that point. She had a loving husband by her side, and a son or daughter joining them come early spring. Her father was doting all over his little girl, and unborn grandchild, and she had no doubt that he would try to spoil the child rotten once he or she came into the world. Secretly, she hoped that it would be a girl. Ever since she was young, Haruhi had always wanted at least one daughter – and after her mother had passed away, Haruhi had promised herself to name to child Kotoko, in memory of her.

She could only smile – little Kotoko would have a great advantage to life that Haruhi had never quite known, herself. She would have a steady, secure upbringing, both emotionally and financially, a swooning grandfather to dote on and spoil her (well, as much as her mother would allow him to, that is), and six wonderful uncles to turn to when she needed – possibly with children of their own for Kotoko to play with in the near future. She'd heard Hani mention something about he and his high school sweetheart considering marriage, as well. And Kyouya had said something about an arranged engagement for himself... Honestly, she wasn't so sure how she felt about that part, but if he and his wife-to-be were fine with it... she supposed that she was, as well. So long as the twins didn't try anything stupid and get her baby into too much trouble when she was old enough.

Not a single worry clouded Haruhi's mind that day. She was certain that everything would end up with that "happily ever after" her parents had wished for her, since the day of her own birth.

Unfortunately... not everything works out like a fairytale.

The first trimester of her pregnancy had been going just fine, but soon after she stepped into her second, well...

It had started with bleeding. But, she had read in one of her many books on the subject of parenthood and pregnancy, that it was common to have in the first trimester, sometimes even in the very early stages of a woman's second. So, she wasn't overly concerned. She attributed the light back pain to either overworking herself, or just the sudden, ever-increasing weight that had began to grow within her body, though she did make sure to closely monitor herself. Making sure her diet was healthy, staying far away from anything that could potentially harm her unborn child. And, if anything seemed to go amiss, she promised both Mamoru and herself that she'd immediately contact the hospital and set up an appointment. Most likely through Kyouya, considering the older male had insisted upon her contacting him, if anything was needed for her or the baby.

It wasn't until the pains started, at about five to six months along, that Haruhi truly grew worried. Not just the ache in her lower back, but those that began to grow in her abdomen. Mamoru was out at the moment, needing to discuss something or other with his parents. And, true to her word, the moment they arose, she called up Kyouya, who had her drive down to an Otori-ran hospital at once.

It wouldn't have been a problem for them. Everything was going to be fine, she assured herself.

And that's when the pain grew worse. Not even a full thirty minutes after the phone call, right before she was about to head outside, get into her car, and drive her way to the hospital. Haruhi found herself collapsing to the ground in unspeakable pain as the muscles of her lower abdomen began to tense and shudder, against her will, no matter how much she tried to calm herself and make it stop. The cramping only increased as she writhed there on the floor in agony, a sheen of sweat lining her forehead.

She was panicking – against every last nerve in her body that told her to stay calm and think, she couldn't!

Oh, God, am I going into labor?!

She wasn't due to give birth for another three and half months!

She called the emergency number, and an ambulance was on its way within moments. But what only took about ten or so minutes, felt like an eternity to the short-haired brunette, and she vainly tried to coax both her body and her baby to calm, to wait just a little while longer. The pain was so unbearable, that she could see black spotting her vision.

The ambulance ride to the hospital was all a blur. And it wasn't until the doctor who would apparently be helping her suddenly ordered a nurse for heavy anesthetic, that Haruhi realized the gravity of her situation. She had started to cry a little then, although quietly, and begged them to not... to not... do that. Her daughter was just fine. There was no need for... that...

Anything but that...

She was put under by the powerful drug seconds later. And when she woke up... well...

Mamoru was there when she was given the news.

He would never be able to have that big, happily family he had dreamed of. At least...

...not with Haruhi.

She left the hospital a few days later. Alone. Her home was empty. The office by the nursery was silent. Both her home and cellphone rang, but they ignored. Her footsteps were quiet and muffled as she walked slowly down a hallway leading of from the living room. Past the master bed and bath, the guest room, the office...

The white-painted door of the nursery was already opened, as if the welcome her inside.

The walls had been painted light pink, with a white trimming. Floral patterns, meant to resemble the sweeping fronds of a weeping wisteria tree, dotted the corners of each wall, and the border the door, and a scenic window that looked out into the backyard. There was a changing station, a rocking chair placed next to a small bookcase filled with small, children's stories and nursery rhymes. A small toy chest sat at the side of a white wardrobe. And, to pull it all together, was the unused crib that sat at the immediate left of the door, pressed into the corner of the wall.

So snug and safe.

So still and silent.

She walked almost lifelessly to the rocking chair, where she sat down, quietly. Eyes roaming absently over the furnishings that would never have use to her. The walls that would never wake to the sound of a child's laughter. The stories that would never be read, and the "I love yous" never whispered to a docile, sleeping face.

Only then, did the tears begin to form. Her chest tightened, her heart thumped against her ribs, her eyes burned and watered all at once, her throat aching and constricting in an attempt to keep in the sobs. One hand covered up her streaming eyes, fingers lacing into and tugging at her short hair. The other, wrapped around her lower abdomen... now missing a vital piece of who she was.

She didn't hear the knocking of the front door as it quickly turned into frantic pounding, nor the shouts of her name from behind the wooden barrier, coming from six different voices. She didn't hear the lock click open from a spare key set beneath the welcome mat out on the porch step, nor the slight creak of the hinges as six bodies made their way inside. She did not hear the way those footsteps faltered upon entry, at the sounds that emanated from the nursery at the back of the house.

All she could hear was the way her heart shattered, as the mournful, gut-wrenching sobs forced their way from her throat, and the way her lungs hitched and hiccuped for air through the grieving tears.

She didn't acknowledge them, or even make an attempt at stifling her cries as they slowly came to her, entering the room one-by-one. She could scarcely breathe, her posture broken and bent over, that one arm still gripping desperately at her abdomen.

It was well-known to the friends of Fujioka Haruhi that she, to be put bluntly, wasn't very skilled when it came to the topic of emotion.

But to see her broken and hurting like this, it was more than they could bear.

It was Tamaki who was at her side first. He stooped down with natural grace down onto his knees before her. A delicate, wary hand placed itself over the young woman's knee, and slowly, the sobs began to quiet down, little by little.

When they managed to die down to the occasional hiccup or sniffle, Tamaki offered her a tissue – from where he received it, she wasn't sure. But at the moment, she couldn't care less. She slowly took it in one hand, the arm over her waist still not moving. She couldn't get over the... the emptiness she felt there. Wiping her nose with one side, she sniffled before folding the tissue in half, and dabbing it beneath one wet, dull brown eye.

Tamaki couldn't stand to see such a look on his dear friend. His fingers tightened their grip ever-so-slightly over her knee. "Haruhi...?" he murmured, and her visible eye glanced down at him blankly. And though he knew it was a stupid question, the Suou had no other words for what he wanted to say to her. What they all wanted to say to her. She could see it in their eyes, as they gazed to her with such profound concern and sorrow that it almost made her choke up, and break down for a second time.

"Are you going to be alright...?"

Will you be okay, with time?

Will you forgive us, for not being here sooner?

Do you need us to be your shoulders to cry on?

Do you know that we'll always be here for you, even if you don't want us to be?

That we will never leave you, and we'll always be at your side?

That we want nothing more than for you to be happy again?

Even if it seems like it will never happen?

Even if your world is crashing down around you?

We will always be here for you, Haruhi, no matter what happens.

We're here for you.

She sniffled again, a hand clapping over her mouth and eyes squeezing shut. She shook her head stiffly, as a strangled whimper left her throat. And it was then, that Tamaki stood, gently guiding the girl up with him, before his long arms wrapped securely over her back and shoulders. Cradling her to his body like a fragile newborn child. Protecting her from the pieces of her shattering world that seemed to crash down around her.

The others carefully gathered closer. Hikaru and Kaoru each placed a palm on either one of her shoulders. Hani quietly slipped his Usa-chan into her otherwise limp, unresponsive arms, before managing to loop his own over her waist, his face burying into her arm. She gripped the stuffed pink rabbit with a mixture of desperation and gratitude. Mori came up beside her for a moment, and Haruhi half expected him to ruffle her hair, like he usually did when she was troubled. But, instead, his long fingers laced their way delicately through her hair, petting through the boyishly-short strands in a soothing manner. Kyouya, even though he was not much for the emotional, physical contact, came up, and laced his fingers with her own, giving her something other than a pink, plush bunny to hold on to.

She shuddered visibly, breath coming in short, catching gasps as she fought back another round of tears.

"H-He..." she choked out, voice trembling like a leaf caught in a midsummer storm, "H-H-He wa-wants... to g-get a... a div-vorce..." She could feel the outrage growing in them at her words. "I-I... I lost her... I l-lost my baby... a-and I can't... I can't...!" Her legs threatened to give way.

"I... I feel so ashamed," Haruhi confessed in a whisper, "Th-The one thing... the o-one thing any spouse could ever want from me, and I-I can't give them that anymore! I can't... I'll ne-never have... my-my own children..."

That comment made chills run down the spines of all present. Yes, they'd known that Haruhi had... lost the baby, but... they had no idea that she'd also lost her... her...

Someone, she wasn't sure who, mentioned adoption. "It... It isn't the same," she choked, a sob managing to escape her. Then, she became angry. How could they possibly understand what she was going through? She pushed her arms against Tamaki's chest until he released her – a motion that was signal for the others to step away, as well. Haruhi still held Usa-chan tightly against her chest, glaring tearful daggers down at the floor, bangs partially shielding away her eyes. "How can you all possibly understand this?!" she hissed quietly, "You rich jerks have all lived a privileged life practically since the day you were born! You'll all be married off to wealthy, beautiful wives who are perfect in every way. You won't have to deal with something like this. A stillborn child, a divorce, or losing the ability to bear your own children!" Her voice steadily rose into a yell the longer she spoke.

Then, seeing the hurt and shock that arose in the gazes of a few of the former Hosts, the guilt set in, and Haruhi's anger visibly crumbled once more, into a sheet of grief. She buried her face into Usa-chan's head, strength wavering as she fell to her knees, making them start in a mixture of surprise and immense worry.

"What did I do wrong...?" she wept quietly, her tears absorbing into the fabric of the plush animal in her arms. "Why did she have to... before she was even here? I must be a terrible person to deserve something like this..." Pain filled her heart as she whispered, "I don't deserve to be a mother..."

"Don't you dare say that!" Tamaki snapped, his voice rising with irritation of his own. Haruhi looked up to him, wide-eyed and shocked. She blinked, a string of moisture curving down her cheek, as she took in the young man's stance:

His legs set slightly apart, almost as if braced for some sort of impact, his shoulders still and spine rigid and straight. His arms were tense, hands clenched into fists and shaking at his sides. His violet-blue gaze burned with an intensity and seriousness Haruhi could not recall having ever seem from him before. "Haruhi, I know you're hurting, but God, dammit, don't let me ever hear you saying words like that ever again!" She swallowed, actually feeling a bit of anxiety rise in her chest as she stared up at him. "So what, if you and that jerk are splitting up? Yeah, I'm sure it's hard, and you loved him, but if he's willing to leave you over something as trivial as having a kid, then he isn't worth the time or the pain you're putting up with at his expense!"

Haruhi's brows furrowed. "Well, what the hell would you know? As far as I've seen, you're nothing but a narcissistic playboy half the time! Hell, you spent more time in your high-school years flirting with some random girl than actually doing anything that could be considered work! And as much time as you spent around them, you're not a girl! You can't possibly understand what it's like to be told that the very thing that makes you who you are was just unwillingly carved out of you without your knowledge of it! I just lost my daughter before she spent even a second in this world, and now-!"

Her voice cracked, and she fell silent, the tears still streaming silently down her face. She looked away from them, that same guilt and shame once more building up in her chest. She sniffled quietly. There was a long stretch of silence and tension, before she mumbled a sad "I'm sorry" to him.

She felt his presence draw closer, and again, Tamaki was on his knees before her. He didn't move to embrace her a second time, instead leaving Haruhi to choose is she wanted him nearby or not. She silently leaned forward, and pressed her forehead to the bend of his shoulder and neck. "I know nothing we do or say can possibly help you feel any better, Haruhi... but just know, that no matter what, we'll always be here for you when you need us. You just have to... try and let us in. Let us know what you're thinking, how you're feeling."

His arms once again came around her, his hands pressing lightly against her shoulder blades, holding her loosely to his chest. Haruhi rested her chin over his shoulder, arms still squeezing Usa-chan with all of their might. "I know you don't like worrying us, but keeping all of this hurt inside is what causes it," he continued, "So you have to try and trust us, okay? Don't let all of that emotion stay bottled up inside of you."

Haruhi only nodded into the crook of his neck, shivering as she tried to stifle her crying.

She heard the sadly-fond chuckle of Kaoru sound from in front of her. "C'mon, Haruhi, what did Tono just say?" he mumbled, crouching down behind the blonde, to meet Haruhi's sad brown eyes with his own off-green gaze. "Don't bottle it up, yeah?" His twin squatted down beside him, gently grabbing her shoulder as Tamaki slowly scooted out of the way. Hikaru insistantly tugged her towards them as the two plopped down onto their rears, and Haruhi was partially dragged into their laps – Haruhi's upper half in Hikaru's, and her lower in Kaoru's. She couldn't help the smallest of smiles that turned up her lips as both embraced her best they could, with Kaoru squeezing her firmly, but carefully, around her waist, and his brother holding her by her shoulders and upper torso.

Hani, deciding that Haruhi looked comfortable, came over, and rested his head just below her chest, to which she was still hugging his stuffed bunny. He looked up at her, and batted those large, light brown eyes at her with such a playful, caring innocence, that her smile grew just a little bit wider.

Mori, always the silent rock in a situation, decided to sit down cross-legged at Hikaru's right, getting the girl to wriggle upwards until he could place her head in his lap. His fingers continued their activity from earlier, absently brushing through the chestnut tresses of her hair. Instinctively, her eyes lidded partway, and her breathing evened out slightly. Tamaki perched himself between the twins, his arms draping nonchalantly over their shoulders. "Kyouya, mon ami, come join us!" he cheered with a large, dopey grin, eyes shining. "It looks lonely, standing over there all by yourself!"

The bespectacled former-Host only smirked, crossing his arms. "I think you all look snug enough there without me," he offered lamely, though he did walk a little closer.

Seizing the opportunity, the blonde suddenly lurched forward, making the twins grunt with the sudden bending and pressure put on their spines, as Tamaki gripped Kyouya by the wrist, and dragged him down to their level. With a surprised shout – something Haruhi couldn't recall hearing before from the raven-haired man, in all her years of knowing him – the Otori heir plopped down onto the pile of bodies, his head landing right on Haruhi's shoulder. Hani then gripped the Shadow King in a bear-hug, and Mori draped an arm over his side. The twins looked ready to snatch him if he tried any sudden moves to get up.

Haruhi was actually fairly concerned the proud man would snap and become angered, but she sighed in relief as his face only showed mild irritation. His voice, however, was light and surprisingly gentle when he spoke.

"Idiots."

And she couldn't help herself. Despite the pain, the sorrow, the uncertainty, and the things that she knew would never be, haunting her mind... hovering around her...

Haruhi began to laugh.

It started as a gentle shake of her shoulders, which soon began to tremble across the rest of her body, and the young men around her both feared and were relieved, thinking that she was beginning to cry again. To let all of that hurt and emotion out. But then, the sounds escaping her throat began to increase from stifled snickering, into quiet giggles, before bursting out into full-blown laughter. So intense, that it made her lungs and stomach ache.

And, the high-school friends smiled, before they, too began to laugh, their holds tightening over the female member of their little "family", as Tamaki had once referred to them as. Even the reserved Kyouya and Mori joined in, though their own voices were much more subdued, compared to their counterparts.

They all knew... that even though she was laughing along with the group, Haruhi was still in tremendous pain. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. And that the strong, confident, blunt young woman would need them, from here on out. Maybe not as much in the future as she did now, but in a way, she would still need them to be that shoulder to cry on when she needed one. To be the ones to help her back to her feet when she fell, and to be the lights that helped guide her way in the darkness.

It was well-known to the friends of Fujioka Haruhi that she, to be put bluntly, wasn't very skilled when it came to the topic of emotion.

But, they all knew, that with her friends by her side, she could get through this. They all could.

And Haruhi knew, from someplace deep in her heart, that with time... everything would be alright.

Yes, Mamoru Saito is an OC. No, I do not plan on using him again. It was simply for plot purposes, as I really don't see any of the Hosts as being the kind of people to divorce their wife just because she couldn't have kids. But, hey, I think he had some pretty good character traits/development, despite the fact that I'll never be using him again (most likely) XD

Please, please, PLEASE tell me what you think of this? I'm eager for criticism and feedback! Preferably the constructive kind!

Reviews are love, reviews are life. *hearts*