Haruhi rubbed her eyes and stepped out of her room into the hallway. Low murmuring voices could be heard somewhere within the house, but Haruhi figured it must have been the television. It was only early morning, and the Fujioka family never had visitors except for-

Haruhi stopped dead in her tracks.

It could not be!

She ran into the kitchen and opened her mouth to scream "leave!" to the Host Club she knew would be chatting casually with her father, but instead she saw a strange man around her father's age. Haruhi hid herself behind the wall instinctively; the tense atmosphere in the small kitchen pushed her out like a magic barrier.

"As I told you, Haruka and I are divorcing," the stranger told Ranka. "Isan, my only daughter- and your blood neice!- is taking this terribly. Yesterday, Keko scolded us."

"Keko?" Ranka's head tilted to one side. Haruhi noticed he was wearing men's clothing.

"Isan's maid," the man said with a wave of his hand. "Apparently, Isan was very upset when Haruka and I were fighting. We want to protect her from that." The man, who Haruhi had deduced was her uncle, had a pained look about his face. He spoke with a quivering voice, as if someone had crushed his world.

Isan... would she be my cousin? Haruhi asked herself silently. The thought seemed absurd. She had never known other relatives, and to suddenly be told of an uncle, aunt, and cousin blew her mind.

Ranka took a sip of his tea and brushed away a loose strand of red hair. "It's funny, big brother. I thought we weren't on speaking terms. You said you didn't want your precious daughter influenced by my lifestyle." His voice held a touch of sugarcoated bitterness, like a dark chocolate bar dipped in sweet calpris.

Ranka's older brother frowned. "R-Ranka," he began, spitting the name out as if he had tasted the aforementioned mix of treats, "mother and father died long ago. Haruka's sister is still recovering after the accident that killed her husband and put her in the comatose state she's been in for over a year. Her brother is in Italy for his honeymoon and won't be back for a month. If Isan stays with us for another month, I'm afraid of what it'll do to her. All Haruka and I do now is fight. She won't even talk to us. If you let her stay for a month, then she can go with Kyo."

"Fine," Ranka sighed. "But I'm doing this for my niece, not my back-stabbing brother."

There was a silence with a meaning Haruhi could not quiet decipher. Then, the man stood and bowed deeply. Ranka seemed unphased by this deep sign of respect and simply waved him away.

As the man passed by Haruhi, she saw his face for the first time. It was pock-marked and wrinkled with the lines of a man who had shown much anxiety and sadness over his life.

"Oh!" her uncle exclaimed as he saw her. "Hello, Haruhi," he added slowly.

"Hi," was all she could think to say.

The stranger pushed his hand into his pockets and took out his wallet. He pulled a bill out of the billfold and held it out for her. "I've missed every birthday."

"Thank you, Gokai," Ranka sang. "You may go."

Uncle Gokai, if Haruhi could call him that, pushed the bill deep into her palm and rushed out of the door, stopping only to put on his shoes.

When he was out of the house, Ranka stood slowly. "Haruhi, please get dressed. You don't want to be late for school. When you get back, you will have a roommate. I'll tell you both the story then."

"Ok, Dad," Haruhi mumbled. She looked down into her open palm to see a hundred dollars, the first gift her uncle had given her.

--

"What? A cousin?" the twins sang in unison.

"Yeah, and an uncle, too. I didn't even know they existed." The bustle of lunchtime around the host-girl was muted to her ears. All she could think about was that day's encounter with her father's only brother- or so she suspected to be his only brother.

"Well, it only makes sense. If what you say is true, I mean," Hikaru began.

"If they don't agree on Ranka's life choice, it's not surprising they don't speak to each other," ended Kaoru.

Haruhi just looked down at her bento and gave a pensive, "hmm..."

--

"What?" Tamaki yelled. He had the ability to make anything seem as if it were the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. "Skipping club? But, Haruhi!"

"Yeah, I have to go home, so I can't stay. Sorry, Senpai." Haruhi stared into Tamaki's large, purple eyes and felt an overwhelming compulsion to punch a baby. He was never going to allow her to leave at this rate.

"Bu- bu- bu- bu- bu-!" the king stuttered on dumbly.

"Haruhi," Kyoya said from where he was typing at a desk, "I do believe an explanation is in order. You haven't forgotten your debt, have you?"

Haruhi frowned. "No, I haven't, Senpai." Fast as lightening, Haruhi recapped that morning's chaos. As she went over everything, including the conversation and the money, a small group crowded around her.

When she finished, the room was silent.

"Oh my. Poor girl," Kurakano mumbled in her usual empathetic way.

"Her parents are... getting divorced?" Tamaki asked to the air that sat still in the room. Kyoya's eyes darted to his best friend, who no longer placed keeping-Haruhi-at-the-host-club-today as his first priority.

"Yeah, so I gotta go!" Haruhi grumbled. She had noticed Tamaki's change of temperment and was taking this time to advance toward the huge double doors.

"You may go home, Haruhi," Kyoya permitted, knowing Tamaki would say nothing. The blond's thoughts were preoccupied with a lonely girl he had never met.

"Thank you," she grumbled in the same annoyed tone, and slipped out of the room. She jogged through the school and down the streets until she made it to her home. She walked up the wood steps to her door and placed her fingers on the door handle. There were muffled voices from the inside, and Haruhi knew that Isan, her cousin, must be inside.

She opened the door to her house, bracing herself to meet the cousin she never knew.