Snow collected at her feet, goose bumps rising on her neck as the unforgiving winter storm rolled through the abandoned streets. She wrapped her arms around her tiny frame and prayed that wind would at least stop. Her movements were slow, frigid and it felt like hours passed as she willed herself to make it up the long hill to home. Dim streetlights illuminated the piles of snow on the ground, her shadow a faint reminder of her existence as Haruhi felt herself wanting to give up.

The sudden blizzard had wiped out most of the power in town, adding to her unrest. The buses had abruptly stopped running three hours ahead of schedule due to lack of clean streets, so the girl was forced to walk her way home from her five hour shift at the local cat café. Haruhi wore a thin camisole beneath her wool sweater and topped it with her favorite weathered jacket. Her short, now messy hair was neatly hidden beneath her tight cap that thankfully covered her exposed ears. She only wished she would have worn thicker pants instead of the tight denim jeans covering her long, toned legs.

Her cheeks were flushed with color; skin a sickly white as constant waves of chill chased after her. She pushed herself to keep walking, but being sleep deprived, frozen, and starving, the girl was finding it hard to brave the walk home.

Her schedule left little room for much else; between the piles of school work, studying, Host Club activities and work, there was barely even time for sleep. Dinner for her meant sneaking a turkey sandwich while hiding beneath the counter when business was slow. Sleep had become replaced with coffee and thirty minute naps during her lunch hour. Even still, she'd managed to find a comfortable rhythm in her schedule that left her feeling accomplished.

But her body was easily showing signs of fatigue: dark circles had formed beneath her eyes, her cheeks now appeared sharp and hollow, and her once form-fitting outfits now hung loosely from her shrinking body. Haruhi had learned to dodge and ignore the concerned looks she got, easily forcing a convincing smile each time one of her friends asked her about her well-being. Of course I'm fine! Just a little stressed is all.

It was just another part of her routine. Slowly, Tamaki and the twins had learned it was best not to ask questions. They had all seemingly grown used to her mechanic behaviors. And Kyoya didn't seem mind as long as her sales were still in top shape. In fact, her new worn out demeanor had became a part her host routine. The girls were always so full of concern, but Haruhi's determination to strive for excellence would leave them swooning with admiration.

Over time, she had learned how to fake the status of her health. She'd invested in learning a few make-up tricks to help cover up the fatigue written across her face. Every question and concern was met with the perfect explanation. She had become a master of hiding how exhausted she really felt. Besides, it was no one else's problem but her own, and she knew herself better than anyone else. It had felt strange at first, bundling up all her emotions from the world, but easily had grown used to the fake smiles and forced giggles. At some points in her spare minutes, she questioned the very state of her sanity. Her mind was constantly racing from one project to the next, like her brain had somehow shut down and then rebooted in to hyper drive. But she welcomed it with open arms. The quicker the better.

And things only got easier as she pushed herself further. The sleepiness would always pass. The burning hunger in her stomach seemed to die down to a slow simmer. Even the little twinge of guilt she felt for lying soon disappeared. She'd successfully learned how to control everything going on inside her. And it was much easier this way.

Half way up the hill, Haruhi silently knocked herself for not checking the weather before leaving her house that morning. Her boss had always offered to give her a ride home, but she had denied it as usual still thinking that she'd be able to catch the twenty-minute bus ride home without any hitches.

Her limbs felt like they were going numb, even beneath the layers of clothing. She sniffled quietly, pausing for a moment at the abandoned bus stop to adjust the bag slung over her shoulder. Haruhi took a moment to close her big brown eyes, a small sigh escaping from her trembling lips. Exhaustion loomed over her, silently waiting for its chance to pounce and consume her.

She shook the feeling off and opened her eyes, ready to continue her walk when she noticed a pair of headlights coming down the hill. Her instincts told her to lower her gaze in hopes of allowing the car to pass her by without even noticing her standing there like a lunatic in the middle of a snow storm. But for some reason, she let her eyes follow the car as slowly trudged through the snow in her direction as she was daring it stop.

To her surprise, it stopped only a few feet from her.

Haruhi's heart raced anxiously, her hands instinctively balling up into tight fists in her jacket pockets as she prepared herself for the worst possible outcome. It was a small, black car with tinted windows. She told herself quietly that she should be prepared to run. One of the back windows slowly began to open. The brunette could barely contain her shock when a familiar pale face popped its head out.

Kyoya.

His eyebrows were raised in amusement, a small condescending sneer on his lips. "It's a bit cold for a late night stroll don't you think, Fujioka?"

She sucked in a sharp breath as she resisted the urge to flip him off and keep walking. Instead, Haruhi brushed the comment off, "What are you doing out here?" This was not his part of town. Someone from the rank of him would never willingly come to such a middle class neighborhood.

"Your father called worried about you. He had a feeling you'd be too stubborn to call one of us for a ride."

Of course, she thought, her eye twitching in annoyance. She made a mental note to deal with her father when she got home. "Does that mean you're here to rescue me?" Sarcasm was evident in her voice, but Kyoya hardly seemed to care.

"Just get in, please. I'd rather not have your father trying to kill me because you decided to let yourself freeze to death." Before she even had a chance to respond, he disappeared, his window rolling up and ending their conversation. Haruhi allowed herself to huff angrily, but finally trudged to car with defeat hanging over her head. The car's warm air greeted her upon entering. A shiver spread over her as she sighed a silent breath of relief. Kyoya sat beside her, his body pressed against the opposite door as he scribbled hastily in his all-too-familiar little black book. He didn't even so much as glance up when she slammed the door behind her.

"Thanks," she mumbled beneath her breath, slightly hoping he wouldn't bother to respond.

To her dismay, he did. "Well, I'll accept, though it really wasn't in my particular interest to come searching for you in the middle of the night." Haruhi opened her mouth to respond, bitchy comment on the tip of her tongue, but was quickly interrupted. "Besides, you shouldn't thank me quite yet. We still have yet to make it safely to your home. If we somehow died in the next half hour, I don't think you'd still be so thankful."

This is a real test of patience, she thought bitterly, but forced the smallest of smiles onto her face. "You have such a great sense of humor, senpai." Most of their conversations were like this. Sarcastic, forward, and undeniably bitter—they had no real connection outside of the club. Haruhi found his personality too complex and guarded to be worth trying to figure out. He kept to himself just as much as she kept to hers. They closest the two had ever come to a "connection" was during their last trip to beach in which he had decided to try and teach her a lesson about asking for help. It hadn't worked, but the question of his true intentions sometimes wiggled its way into her thoughts late at night before she crossed into her dream world.

Kyoya shrugged away her comment and continued to scribble away in his book in silence. Haruhi leaned her head against the door, feeling secure and warm, eyes drifting closed as the gentle hum of the car rocked her to sleep.

Kyoya noticed she was asleep almost immediately by the way her breathing had slowed and her body was loosely rocking along with the car. A tiny whimper escaped her lips. His dark eyes wandered over to her face. His lips slipped into a small scowl. Exhaustion was written across her face. She had grown slim, skin as pale as a ghost's, and her movements and responses had become programmed and zombie-like. She had changed, too. She rarely interacted with anyone outside of club hours.

Concern among the group was unanimous. They had a meeting several days prior discussing Haruhi's current state. That was before the storm had settled over them, a day when the sky was a murky gray and the sun remained hidden behind thick clouds.

Tamaki was the one who had called them together.

"We have to do something!" he'd exclaimed. "Our little princess is working herself to death!" He was pacing the music room floor back and forth while the rest of them sat quietly on couches, all nodding their heads in agreement. Kyoya sat quietly in the corner on his laptop, taking notes of the club's current sales and half-listening to Tamaki's little speech. "Hikaru, Kaoru—does she even eat anymore? You guys said you'd hadn't seen her at lunch in weeks!"

Kaoru shook his head. "If she's eating, she isn't eating during lunch anymore," he answered in a small voice, hand instinctively moving to grab Hikaru's. Hikaru crossed his arms.

"Every time I've asked her what's going on, she says the same thing. 'Oh I'm fine! Just a bit stressed! I promised I already ate a big breakfast!'" he grumbled, mimicking Haruhi's voice as he spoke. "It's getting really scary. I mean, look at her!"

Mori just nodded his head in agreement, offering up a grunt. Hunny toyed with Usa-chan's ears. "Maybe she doesn't want help, Tamaki-kun! Maybe she doesn't even realize how bad it is."

The blonde prince continued to rant about getting her help, the others offering up small ideas here and there on how to approach her without getting dismissed. Kyoya allowed them to continue their petty banter for a few minutes before he closed his laptop, clearing his throat to get their attention. They all fell silent, looking up at him with glints of hope sparkling in their eyes. "I hate to say it, but there is really nothing any of us can do. Whatever it is that's bothering her she wants to keep to herself. Haruhi is fully capable of managing her needs and wants. If she truly needed the help, she'd have asked for it by now." He could see immediately that they all wanted for him to be wrong, but no one spoke up after that. It seemed they all had silently agreed with Kyoya, and would have to leave her be until she was ready to ask for help.

But as Kyoya began to stare more intently at her features, he wished to himself that someone would be stupid enough to ask her what was going on. It was obvious that she was overwhelmed and working herself to the bone. The shadows of her face made him wonder when the last time Haruhi had even had a proper night's sleep, or at least a decent meal.

The driver knocked against the partition. Haruhi awoke with a start. "What? Are we here already? Oh man. I can't believe I slept the whole way here!"

Kyoya managed to make his face as stoic as usual. "Don't worry. We've only just arrived."

Haruhi's blank eyes fell on him. His heart felt a strange twinge—those were not the eyes he'd grown fond of seeing. These were expressionless, uncaring. Cold.

"Sorry, senpai, but I guess you do have to accept my thanks now, huh?" A weak, forced smile ghosted over features. He cringed at the sight. This was not the same Haruhi he had come to know. "Thanks again, Kyoya-senpai. I'll see you tomorrow."

She started out of the door, but the boy felt his composure cracking. "Fujioka." She glanced back expectantly/ He took a second to choose his words carefully before speaking. "Try not to work too hard. Get some sleep." Kyoya wanted to end there, to show he at least somewhat cared, but as usual he felt exposed and quickly shut down the part of him that felt sympathy. "You've been slacking with your customers."

He wondered if Haruhi would see past his lie, as she seemed to slowly process his words. Then, as a robot would, she stiffly nodded and shut the door. Kyoya let out the breath of air he didn't realize he was holding. He could see her defenses and how'd they been built up. She had become impenetrable. She was simply going through the motions—his words had meant nothing.