The following morning I awoke with a start, pulled from my sleep by loud bouts of laughter from outside. Thinking for a moment that I was somehow back inside the frat house, I hastily rubbed my eyes to clear them of sleep. I breathed a sigh of relief to see that I was, most definitely, in my own house. I crawled to the window and drew back the curtains, seeing the culprits of the noise that so startled me to be a group of students led, like the prissy princess that she was, by the snobby brown haired girl I had met just the day before. As I watched them heading off toward the main body of the school, I noted how often she ruffled a hand through her hair and flicked it away, so it swung gracefully through the air - the two boys accompanying the gaggle of girls seemed very distracted by it, making her somewhat simpering smile become more of a smirk. Attention seeker, I thought to myself as I stood up and turned to get dressed.

I paused while brushing my hair and looked at myself. I looked very battered after a very late night; there were dark circles under my eyes, and for some reason my glasses looked more askew than ever - no doubt because the twins had found much enjoyment in pulling them from my face and ramming them onto their noses to impersonate me whenever they got the opportunity. The idiots had probably bent them out of shape completely. I sighed, thinking I'd just have to secure one side with tape or something.

Once dressed, I went downstairs and scoured the kitchen drawers for tape. I found a small roll of clear tape and did my best to patch up my glasses with it. The effect was to have a bulbous mound of sticky plastic secured just above my left lens. Checking out my handiwork in the back of a spoon, I resolved that it perhaps would have been better to stick with lopsided glasses.

"Oh, well…" I muttered, tapping the spoon against my knuckles as I waited for the kettle to boil. As the button clicked to signal the boil, I ducked down to retrieve a teabag from a lower cupboard. As I fumbled to open the new box, I caught sight of what was lurking just behind it. The bottle of wine sent by the Host Club, glinting dully from the shadows. I grimaced to think of what they were doing now - Tamaki had no doubt called the police, thinking I'd been kidnapped or something. God knows what the rest of them would think - Kyoya, no doubt, would have it figured out. And Takashi… would he keep his promise?

He will, I told myself firmly. Now all I have to do is face them at two o'clock…

"Haruhi!" Tamaki all but screamed as I reluctantly entered Music Room 3. If my financial situation didn't force me to stay, I would have done an about-face and instantly slammed the door on him. As it was, I had to endure the floods of tears and many exclamations of woe and worry as he seized me in a bone-crushing hug. The pure strength of his rosy cologne on its own could have suffocated me, let alone the embrace he now didn't seem capable of relinquishing. I recognised it as the same perfume that was on the card from the gift basket. Typical, I thought, that he'd use his perfume for things like that.

"And just where were you this morning?" a much colder, snappier voice asked. I pulled my eyes away from the revoltingly sentimental Tamaki to stare into the genuinely frightening black pits of death that were Kyoya's eyes. "Why weren't you in the house?"

"I was up early," I said evasively.

"Mmhmm…" Kyoya said sceptically, flipping open his black book and beginning t scribble. "And just what did you do when you were 'up early'?"

"I…went out," I replied, not breaking my eye contact with him; I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me intimidated by what he was trying to do. Besides, what I was saying - while cryptic - was entirely true. I was up early - granted that I hadn't actually gotten to sleep in the first place - and I had simply gone out, though I couldn't exactly proclaim directly to all of them that I hated the house and didn't so much as want to spend another night there. For one thing, Honey would probably burst into tears - let alone Tamaki, who might just die of sorrow; for another, I knew none of them would listen to me, anyway.

"Why did you go out?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"How early were you up?"

"Uh…quite early…"

I caught sight of the tall black haired boy as he stood a few feet behind Kyoya, and my eyes momentarily flicked toward him. He wore the tiniest of smiles, watching me with a kind of amusement. I knew from that split second of looking at him that he hadn't said a word, for Kyoya heaved an irritated sigh and snapped his book shut.

"For one usually so articulate, you really are very vague, Fujioka," he said sternly, pushing his glasses up his thin nose with a similarly thin finger. It was then that he seemed to notice mine. "What have you done to your glasses? You look positively slovenly."

"Oh - uh - I - "

"Never mind," he cut across me, straightening his tie and turning away. "Just rectify it at the soonest opportunity - I believe there's an optician's just down the road, you can go and buy a new pair after school."

"You really think I can afford new glasses, just like that?" I asked, incredulous, as I finally managed to throw Tamaki off me. I made as if to follow Kyoya, but the twins chose that moment to slide past, crossing their legs in front of mine and causing me to trip. I tried my best not to fall, but succeeded only in propelling myself forward and head first onto one of the lush red sofas that dotted the room.

"You mean to say you can't?" the two redheads mused, fixing their sly green eyes on me, sprawled across the lavishly pillowed seat. "Commoners…"

"Poor Haru-chan…" I heard Honey mumble as I picked myself up, rubbing my head uncomfortably. I looked over to him only to see him turning and walking away; my eyes turned up and momentarily connected with Takashi's, before he too turned and followed the tiny blonde boy. I heard Kyoya clap his hands twice.

"Now, our guests will be here shortly - Haruhi, do get up, it's not your place to be lounging around!"

I got irritably to my feet, scowling from him to the twins, who sniggered.

"As I was saying - after our meeting yesterday, kindly interrupted by Haruhi, today is our first real hosting session of the new year. Enjoy yourselves, everyone!" This was met by scattered applause - somewhat sarcastic from the twins, and overly exuberant from Honey and Tamaki. I felt Kyoya's hand suddenly grasp my shoulder - I was surprised to feel actual warmth in his touch, and not the icy hand of death itself. "You, Haruhi, will limit yourself to only mild enjoyment. Don't get carried away - the ladies come for entertainment, not pantomime."

"Perfect…" I grumbled, feeling very much that whatever enjoyment I could ever get out of this practice would be lucky to get anywhere near 'mild'. From what I'd experienced already, I was about to have as much fun as dog chained to a fence.

"Your job," Kyoya continued, spinning me about so I looked up at him, "is to make and serve tea, and to draw little to no attention to yourself and your… sloppy appearance." He tutted, pulling a loose thread from my baggy red jumper. "You couldn't have chosen something less…cheap-looking?"

It's cheap-looking because it is cheap, you pretentious rich -

"Good afternoon, ladies!" Kyoya called suddenly, shoving me quickly behind him and smiling graciously. I peered round him to see that a group of roughly thirty tittering girls had appeared out of nowhere in the doorway, at the front of which - much to my annoyance - was the pretty girl with brown hair. "Welcome to the - "

"Welcome, my princesses, to the Ouran Host Club!" Tamaki cried energetically, appearing just as suddenly as the girls had done. He thrust out his arms like a peacock displaying its tail, and I noticed he had a white rose in his manicured right hand, which he promptly offered to the closest girl to him - which just so happened to be the girl with brown hair. She smiled in a simpering manner, and immediately began following him when he moved away, clutching the rose tightly as though to make sure that none of the other girls could snatch it from her grasp.

There was something oddly possessive about her, about the way that - no matter where Tamaki went throughout the hour and a half of the session - her eyes, if not her whole being, would follow him incessantly. She'd laugh girlishly whenever he said anything, complimenting him tirelessly, asking questions the moment he paid attention to another girl so his focus was back on her. In fact, she was so fascinatingly possessive of him that I spent more time spying on her than actually serving tea - much to the annoyance of Kyoya, who kept having to herd me back over to the kettle.

Finally, as the hosting session drew to an end, I came over to clear away all the teacups that had been left around the table. All of Tamaki's other guests had gone, but still she remained - imploring him for more and more time with question after question. As I approached the table she cast a distasteful look at me, but then looked again as she saw who I was. It was obvious she recognised me - who wouldn't, in a place like Ouran? - and as I bent down to retrieve her cup I thought I saw the glimmer of a smile on her lips.

A moment later she had stamped down, hard, on my foot beneath the table - it wasn't until then that I noticed she had been wearing high heels. I cried out in shock and pain, tripping over as I tried to pull away, falling onto the table and spilling tea over her. She cried out as tea spattered her skirt, leaping to her feet and hurrying out of the way.

"Haruhi!" Tamaki said quickly, helping me up; I didn't see the way her face suddenly formed a scowl that he paid attention to me, first. "Are you alright?"

"I'm - "

"Oh, and this was new as well!" the girl whined, and everyone looked at her. Already she'd begun to cry, clutching her lacy white skirt with distraught hands. "Daddy got it for me before he went away to Paris! And now it's ruined!" She looked at me, her eyes blazing. "He ruined it!"

"It was just an accident, I'm sure you don't blame Haruhi for - "

"I do blame him!" she shrieked, pointing an enraged finger at me. Tamaki fell silent, looking about awkwardly as though waiting for one of the other Hosts to cut in and help. "What, are you just going to excuse him, Tamaki? Clearly he's not fit to be working for you, if he can't even pick up teacups!"

"It wasn't my fault!" I piped up, furious that she was making such a show to humiliate me.

"Be quiet, Haruhi," Kyoya snapped, and I felt compelled to oblige - there was a deathly glare to the way the light reflected off his glasses. He bowed his head courteously to the girl before he addressed her. "I apologise whole-heartedly for the mistakes of our newest member - he's not suitable for our way of life, I understand, but certain circumstances have led him to our care."

"Hmph!" she scoffed.

"Needless to say, Haruhi shall work tirelessly from now on to become a proper gentleman, and to earn back enough money to purchase a replacement for your delightful skirt. How does that sound, Miss Ayanokoji?"

She cast a disdainful look over at me, which I returned. A small smirk played her lip.

"That sounds fine by me," she replied flatly. With another theatrical huff she flipped back her hair and stalked out of the room. The door closed behind her with a melodramatic slam. An awkward silence followed the resonating crash of the door, Ayanokoji's footsteps clicking away. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, my face flushing as I sat, crumpled and tea-stained, beside Tamaki.

"It wasn't my fault," I said again, seeing Kyoya open his mouth - no doubt to berate me. "She stamped on my foot, blame her!"

"As if one of our customers would do something like that," Kyoya tutted, surveying me with warning eyes. "Honestly, a weak excuse to cover up your own clumsiness - what, did she rip out the carpet beneath you when you smashed that vase, too?"

"No…" I conceded, feeling my cheeks growing hot.

"In future, I expect you to at least have the courtesy to realise your errors." Kyoya smirked and moved away, and I watched him go with a scowl. Out the corner of my eye I saw Tamaki looking at me, and when I turned my eyes on him there was something almost pitying in his expression.

"It's okay, Haruhi," he told me gently, "Everyone has accidents."

"But she really did - "

"Everyone has accidents," he repeated, getting to his feet. "As it is, you wouldn't mind clearing up, would you?"

Yes.

"No…"

He followed after Kyoya, as did the sniggering twins.

"See you back home, Haru-chan!" Honey chimed as he passed me. My stomach clenched at the idea that, even after the ordeal of a hosting session was over, I had to face them again. How long would it be before I actually managed to tell them I wasn't a guy? I figured that, with the way they were carrying on, the only way to convince them of my genuine femininity was to show them. Except I didn't exactly feel comfortable with the option of showing myself to a bunch of guys I both barely knew and generally disliked.

"See you," a deep voice said from the door. I looked up to see Takashi vanishing as the door closed.

"See you…" I replied, now alone in the enormous music room.

My foot had begun to throb dully, and I thought it best to rest it a bit - I didn't have any classes for about half an hour, so I had the time. I bent down and unlaced my boot, pulling my foot out and wincing a little as it brushed against my foot. I peeled back the fluffy grey sock to reveal a small, yet dark bruise just beneath my big toe where Ayanokoji's heel had hit. I winced, my breath hissing a little as I pressed the skin around it.

"I forgot my…" I looked up to see Takashi back in the doorway, staring at me with my bare foot resting upon the table, "…jacket." We stared at each other for a couple of seconds. "What are you doing?" he asked as the door closed behind him.

"Nothing," I answered, attempting to tug my sock back on.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

A moment later his enormous legs had propelled him over to me, and his enormous hands had clasped my ankle. His eyes narrowed fractionally as he saw the bruise.

"How did you get that?" he asked.

"I dropped something on my foot yesterday," I lied, wriggling my leg free so I could tug the sock on properly. "It's nothing." My foot was back in the boot before he had a chance to question any further. "Anyway, I've got things to clear away - here's your jacket." I scooped up the leather article and dropped it in his lap before hastily setting about gathering up the pieces of broken china on the floor.

"Haruhi - "

"You don't want to keep Honey-senpai waiting," I said brusquely, avoiding looking at him. For a moment it seemed he would say something else, but then he stood and slung his arms through the sleeves of his jacket and departed. I didn't notice him pause before closing the door, but he most certainly did notice the way I winced as I walked. He narrowed his eyes, and - after watching me a moment - swung the door shut.

Literally, I'm so sorry for the delay - it's been, what, 4 months? I have the usual excuses: illness, school, exams, writer's block, blah blah blah - but I also have a very exciting other reason. I have (for a while) been working with a fellow Ouran lover and fanfiction writer to create Ouran: the Musical, meaning she writes songs and I (along with a motley crew of other voice actors and singers) bring it to life. It's pretty damn time consuming, especially to edit, but it's gonna be so worth it.

In the mean time I have this and many other fics I'll do my best to continue (haha that's a lie, I'm going back to school tomorrow...)

No but really, I love writing and my stories need to get done one way or another - thanks for your patience, my darlings!