AUTHOR NOTE: it's getting very complex and the beginning chapters are starting to be a little odd compared to the direction of the story. They will be re-edited at a later time to match the theme, but the plot will largely remain the same. Also - to those that are reading this afresh, this story started off as a feel-good fic intended to emulate chapters/episodes of Ouran, but quickly evolved into something darker, richer, and more complex. It used to be a no-pairing fluff piece, but since then has developed in to a Kyouya/OC fic (sorry). I started it 6 years ago and have since grown a lot!

TITLE: New Country, New School, New Identity

GENRE: Action/Adventure, Crime, Drama, Romance, Tragedy, with bits of fluff and comedy thrown in. The idea is to have it flow like a well-rounded movie/television series, with more complexity than pure fluff or pure romance.

PAIRING: Kyouya/Original character.

Hanami Fujioka had been living comfortably in America as an everyday citizen..Until her stepfather died and handed over a huge conglomerate in her care. She is confused as to why he had hidden his identity as a major businessman from her, but nevertheless travels to Japan to attend the presigious Ouran Academy (which is run by her stepfather's friend.) She discovered her biological cousin, Haruhi, and decided to join a strange, strange club in order to help her cousin. Her life seems to be gathering itself together when Hanami receives threats from an underling. Shell-shocked, Hanami is unaccustomed to the dirty business tactics but quickly resolves to toughen up. However, as an old childhood friend and a power-hungry underling turn up in Japan with no intention of returning to America without the company, Hanami's life is put into danger. As a series of violent attacks almost shut down the activities of the host club, they begin to realize that this business with Richard Price, Hanami's greedy second-in-command, extends beyond their generation and unlocks a dark part of their past. Kyouya is forced to remember the death of his mother, and the host club members begin to see just how involved their families are in this corporate game.

Which such close proximity to such a profitable, spunky, and attractive individual as Hanami, Kyouya begins to wonder why her matters concern him so much. Is it because she just may be his intellectual equal? But as events inflate and the threat becomes larger than any host could ever imagine, he must decide exactly what Hanami means to him as the events might just be the end of everything he knows.

A small shrine in the corner of Hanami Fujioka's modest 18-tatami LDK apartment was always the first thing she saw when she entered or left. Today, of course, was a special day - but not one unlike the others - and so, the greeting was customary.

"Bye, Dad!" Hanami cheerly called to the small framed photo, centered in the shrine's alcove. "I'm heading off for Ouran Academy!"

Maybe - if she was purposefully dishonest with herself - the photo of her late father had smiled back.

The apartment door whispered shut behind her before Hanami took a good look down at , as expected - still very flat. Her simple black slacks and white collared dress shirt did nothing to make her look more feminine, if not; she looked more like a boy than was usual. Perhaps it would have been a good idea to pick up her girl's uniform earlier on, rather than today? Hanami shook her head to get rid of these negative thoughts and began the walk to school.

Trudging along silently, Hanami was lost in her thoughts. The past few months had been difficult, to say the least. She had been born and raised in America, and lived 15 years of happiness. And now, she had been yanked out of her perfect world and forced to move to Japan. Just surviving her freshman year in high school had beenhard enough!

'Seriously,' she thought. 'Is it supposed to be this hard?' About two months ago it had been the 4th of February, Hanami's birthday. Looking back on it, Hanami decided that it was the worst one of her life. She had turned 15, and her beloved stepfather (the only father she had ever known) had his life taken in a car accident.

Two days later, the reading of his will took place. As it turned out, her modest and humble stepdad, Stephen Rosenthal, was not the owner of a small computer shop, but instead a multimillionaire and CEO of the Pineapple computer company. Hanami's world had been shattered when she received his Pineapple business. She had to learn the ways of marketing, economics, and computer engineering, and she had to leave her friends, her home, and her high school in order to move to Japan and enroll a rich-ass, elitist school called Ouran Academy.
And the worst part? Her mother, Amelia Kazami-Rosenthal, was staying in America to supervise the business until Hanami came of age to fully take charge.
But Hanami couldn't blame her mother. Amelia had lost two husbands now- Takahashi Fujioka (Hanami's biological father) and Stephen Rosenthal (the man who had raised Hanami as his own.)

Even so, it was hard to move to another country where you couldn't speak your primary language. Thankfully, Stephen had encouraged Hanami to practice her Japanese with her mother. That education had saved her multiple times over the past month as she slowly adjusted to her new environment.

It hurt, she decided, to think about him. She figured the lie of normalcy and secret of superdom that he'd kept secret for her entire life was forgivable, if only she could have him back.

However, it was his memory that empowered Hanami to move to Japan willingly. Certainly, no teenager in their right mind would immediately accept the full, terrifying responsibilities of a future heir of a technology megabusiness after the death of their father.

The simplest solution was to ask herself what her father would expect her to do. She knew in her heart, that, were he still alive, Stephen would be happy to see Hanami leading his company. Granted, he would have guided her through it until she reached a riper age, but life sometimes didn't afford you that sort of luck. When she was a child, he'd shared his passion for technology with her through books and countless hours hunched over a computer together - and so she knew it was right for her to eventually take his place. And, it wasn't that Hanami disliked business, it was just that she was only 15, and had yet to finish the ninth grade.

Hanami had boarded the Japan Airlines plane from the Los Angeles Airport, telling herself, "I'm doing it for Dad. I need to keep his memory and legacy alive." She owed so much to the man who had raised her as his own child, as he had chosen to live frugally and keep his wealth a secret in order to raise her as a modest, responsible child, rather than a rich and conceited heiress. He could have lived a glamorous life, but instead chose to marry Amelia and live in a small Southern California city, becoming a father to the then 3-year-old Hanami. He could have spent his time traveling and tipping back expensive wines, but he wanted to live like any other average father.

And now Hanami had come to the gilded gates of the prestigious Ouran Academy, the gold Japanese kanji lettering sparkling in the light after what seemed to be a vigorous (and daily) polishing. She stopped, fighting a sudden urge to run away, or to cry, and she stood there, staring. In America, it was only two months before Hanami's freshman year would be over, yet here she was, already starting her third to last year of high school. So much for academic closure.

"Why do they have to start school in April?" Hanami complained as she pushed open the gates and stepped through. "There. I'm in. Can I go back home now?" she said to nobody in particular. Taking a deep breath, Hanami hoisted her bookbag on her shoulder, stared down at the map on her PiPhone, and attempted to find the superintendent's office.

Tamaki Suou's eye caught small figure moving through the central square, bathed in soft spring sunlight. Peering closer out of the Third Music Room's window, he saw a boy trudging dejectedly towards the main administration building.

'That's weird," he noted. "Does that guy know the first day school's over?"

"Hmm?" Kyouya Ootori looked up from where he was typing on his Mac.

"That guy," Tamaki pointed. "Do you know him?" Usually Kyouya had some sort of a document on any new student.

"Actually, no," said Kyouya, surprised to discover a new student. "That's strange." He shrugged it off - but it was still odd that he hadn't any intel from the superintendent yet. Any sort of hush-hush newbie was bound to be someone woth noting.

Tamaki was a silent for a bit - but as always, not for long. "You know, he actually looks a bit like Haruhi!" Tamaki cried as the stranger disappeared behind gilded doors.

Kyouya smiled a little. Tamaki, since Haruhi had come into his life, had somehow become both more immature and mature. Shaking his head, Kyouya pondered what types of disasters could occur if the two actually started dating. Kyouya knew it would be coming sooner or later, but those two were painfully slow in discovering their feelings for each other. He figured he'd let it play out that way just for the pure entertainment of it.

"Senpai, don't you have to go to the superintendent's office about now?" Haruhi's glare told Kyouya that she knew he was thinking 'you're all idiots' thoughts again. He smiled slightly, before a certain blond interjected.

"WHA? KYOUYA! Why do you need to talk to my father?" Tamaki freaked out, gesturing wildly.

"I'm paying the club dues. I'm also the Second-Year's Student Body President - which you already knew." Kyouya said curtly. "Anyway, shouldn't this be the president's job?" The bespectacled boy threw a pointed look at his (loathe to say it) best friend, causing Tamaki to retreat to his traditional corner of woe. Exasperated, Kyouya snapped his portfolio shut and pushed open the door. Right before it closed, he heard Haruhi deadpan, "Nice one, senpai." He smiled a little, amused by this comment, and proceeded to make his way to the superintendent's office. Would the mystery student be revealed to him then?

Hanami stepped into Superintendent Yuzuru Suou's office, feeling a bit nervous to meet her stepfather's childhood friend. Not to mention, the man was supposedly one of the most elite education administrators in Tokyo, and that was scary enough already. The beaming grin he shot her, though, should have been a dead giveaway to have no fear.

"Good afternoon, child!" A bright and cheery voice filled the room. "I am Yuzuru Suou, the superintendent of this lovely school. It's a pleasure to meet you, Fujioka-san. I've been waiting for you. So, how is your stepfather? My gosh, it's been a while since I last talked to Stephen. Considering that I saw him last during the summer I went to France. At any rate, since he and I were such good friends, you may call me your oji-sama, alright? Say it with me, o-ji-sa-ma. Okay, give me your papers and then I'll give you a pass to the seamstress' office so you can get your uniform. Tell your father I said hello!"

Hanami couldn't even get a word in edgewise - not that she was capable of forming words after experiencing a force of personality like that. How could her stepfather befriend an insane person like that? How did the superintendent think Stephen was still alive? Why had the superintendent been in France? Why did the uniform require going to a seamstress? Hanami was so preoccupied in her thoughts that she collided with a tall body who was heading towards the superintendent's. Her bookbag dropped to the floor and fell open, papers flying everywhere.

She cried out her apologies before scurrying to scoop up the papers.

Kyouya scowled. Who was this fool? This klutzy boy wasn't wearing the school blazer, didn't have the proper bookbag, and had a very random assortment of papers. One such leaf of paper fluttered by Kyouya's feet, and just in case this kid was somehow rich and important,bent over to pick it up. He took a sharp breath when he swept his eyes over the page.

A scan of an American passport was printed before his eyes, and the blank look of a girl stared back at him from the identification picture.

The photograph indicated that the person scurrying around in front of him (presumeably, the owner of said passport) had once had medium-length jet-black hair. An interesting fact, but not relevant. It was the person's name that interested Kyouya the most.

This girl was in fact Hanami Fujioka, the unexpected heiress to the Pineapple throne. Now, that was something worth Kyouya's attention - he'd read about the grisly death of Pineapple's CEO and the rise of his stepdaughter in a newspaper. Her surname, of course, was particularly intriguing. He knew just another shorn-sheep Fujioka, himself.

"Here. I believe this is yours." Kyouya held out the sheet, tilting his head a little for politeness. The girl abruptly stood up and sank into a very deep, respectful bow.

"I'm sorry! My apologies!"

"It's fine….Fujioka-san."

Still bent over, the girl whipped up her head and searched Kyouya's face with narrowed eyes.

"Um. How do you know my name?"

Kyouya gently shook the paper he was extending to her. Hanami Fujioka's eyes widened and she angrily snatched the paper out of his hand. She stuffed the paper into her bookbag, glared at the boy in front of her, and marched off to get her uniform fitting. Kyouya followed her with his eyes, contemplating what this could mean. He hadn't expected the heiress to show up at Ouran - he figured she'd be shipped off to one of the Exeter high schools in Massachusetts, for close proximity to her dad's MIT alma mater.

"How rude." Hanami muttered under her breath. She shoved open the seamstress' door, using more force than necessary. Not looking where she was going, Hanami ran head-first into another body. Sputtering apologies (again), she saw that she had bumped into an extremely tall boy who had amazingly grey boy nodded his forgiveness as a small blonde boy peeked around him.

"Oh! Good afternoon, newcomer-san!" he exclaimed. "I'm Honey! Well, actually, my name is Mitsikuni Haninozuka, but Honey's much cuter. This is my cousin Takashi Morinozuka! We're third years. What about you?"

A blank stare was her first intelligent response. When she realized that no, this kid wasn't from the elementary school, and was wearing the high school uniform, she smiled politely.

"Um, I'm a first year picking up my uniform?" Hanami said with some uncertainty. There was no way this little boy was her senior. The taller one, she was completely convinced by - but this? Were he around the age of 11, he would be adorable. ! "Uh… Sorry, yeah, I just moved here from America, in response to personal name is Hanami."

"Takashi is getting his uniform too! He grew taller again, so he has to getrefitted." Honey chirped. "You're new here, we'll take you to meet our friends after you get your uniform - if you don't mind. Depending on what friends you make, this can be a difficult school to start off running in." "

It didn't sound like a bad idea to Hanami - after all, she figured a rich feeder school like Ouran would have had the same students since kindergarten. Making friends wasn't bad… But how would she know whether these two and their buddies weren't the ones she should be avoiding? She'd just check it out, she told herself. If they weren't the good guys, she'd just focus on studies instead. She was here to learn about business - not to get "in" with the right crowds.

A few minutes later, Hanami stepped out of the dressing room in a pale yellow dress. She...hated it. Pure silk be damned - luxurious fabrics didn't make up for the absurd amount of layers involved in the dress. She felt a gaze boring into her skin, and looked up to see Takashi's eyes on her. Thankfully, years of California sunshine gave her enough of a tan to hide any blushing - but still.

"Ah! You're a girl?" Honey exclaimed. "Wow, you're so cute!"

Again - Hanami wasn't sure what to feel. Yes, she was a girl, thank you very much - and slightly peeved that her gender had been mistaken, but similarly he was very kind (and impossibly precious). Well, in the least the kid had redeemed herself with a compliment of sorts, so Hanami resigned herself to a polite smile and "thank you!"

"No problem!" Honey beamed. Hanami smiled back again - before starting to laugh. It was all so ridiculous - a tiny high school senior with a heart of gold? A talk, athletic hottie as his companion? A poofy yellow dress and gold decorations on campus? This wasn't the reality of her father's death - it didn't feel like reality at all. But maybe, just maybe… It wasn't reality that Hanami really needed.