XXx Aya xXX

It's been a little over a week since Élise left, and we're beginning to transition into autumn. The trees outside my windows are turning nice rich shades of red and orange, and it's almost time to start breaking out the thick sweaters that I have sleeping in the back of my closet. Akimi has switched over my blankets already, and although getting up for school was already hard before, it's even worse now that I've made a habit of cocooning myself in tons of thick crocheted blankets every night.

Usako is pressed up against my face, effectively working together with my somewhat impressive pillow fort to block out the sunlight that is trying to wake me up early on a Sunday. It still has a bit of the summer heat kick, and that coupled from the warmth I get from the blankets is enough to encourage me to stay in bed all day.

I roll over to burry my face in a mountain of pillows, still too groggy to really feel the damage being dealt to my neck. But I can stand it for at least another few hours.

I'm just drifting off again when my door opens rather loudly and my lights are flipped on.

"Time to wake up."

Groaning, I pile pillows on top of my head in attempt to shut out the extra light. But instead of taking the hint and leaving, I feel a dip in my mattress as Mama takes a seat on the edge of my bed and begins taking armfuls of pillows and begins tossing them over her shoulders. They hit the floor with muffled thuds, and I already know that I won't be winning this argument. But that doesn't mean I can't try…

"Nooooooo…" I whine loudly as I lash out with my suddenly de-cocooned feet.

I feel them make contact with Mama's side and she lets out a grunt of frustration followed by a not at all muffled swear when I feel my foot hit its target again and connect with her ribs.

"Wake up!" she commands as she smacks the back of my now exposed head. "You're so young. You should not be this tired!"

I groan as I raise my head just enough to glare at her over my shoulder. Based on the scowl that awaits me when I look up, I'd say that either I don't look as intimidating as I think I do, or she's unimpressed with my bedhead. Knowing me I'd say it's probably both.

"I'm stocking up on sleep," I grumble defensively as I flip myself over with a display of exaggerated effort. "We have exams coming up in October, which starts like…two days from now or something?"

"All the more reason you should be up," she replies as she tosses my layers of blankets back, exposing my legs to the chill of the AC. "You should be studying a little harder."

"I'm getting married after I graduate," I snap as I bring my knees into my chest. "What is there to study for? Or are you suggesting I might actually have a life outside the Clan despite being a new wife?"

"Do you have a list of excuses lined up for use?" Mama asks as she gets up off my bed and brushes the wrinkles out of her dress. "Or do you just make these up as you go along?"

"I'd like to believe that I am witty and spontaneous."

"I see your vocabulary is improving."

"Yeah, I love you too Mama."

"The office room in ten minutes," she orders as she walks over to the door. "This is important."

"Fine."

She leaves me without another word, and I automatically waste about half of my time just trying to convince myself to get out of bed. I'm just so…comfy…

Eventually the threat of Mama getting mad at me gets me to move, though it's only at about a fraction of my regular speed. As I step into the bathroom, I realize she just said I needed to be downstairs, but didn't specify the conditions I needed to present myself in. So I just ball my hair up in a bun and brush my teeth before I pull on a pair of fuzzy socks that don't at all match my oversized sweater. Not that it really matters.

I stop at the door to slip in to a pair of fur lined boots before I reluctantly leave the sanctity of my room. Except well, it's not really sacred anymore, is it? People seem to have developed a habit of just walking in whenever they please. I really should fix that.

When I yank open the door of the office room, one look inside has shot my insides full of ice. Everyone is gathered in here, well minus Chika. Honey glances up from his seat across from a man in a spotless white lab coat, and one look in that direction has my heart pounding a mile a minute. And for the first time in a while it's got nothing to do with Honey.

"Come on in," Mama beckons with a slight wave of her hand.

My legs are made out of jelly. Or is it lead? Maybe it's jellied lead. Who knows? I mean I sure as hell don't.

"What's going on?" I ask warily, not really wanting to know the answer at all.

I mean, the guy's in a lab coat. This can't be good. And to confirm my suspicions, the man stands up and gives me a slight dip of the head.

"My name is Doctor Yamada; I'm here to conduct the premarital blood test."

I can feel all blood leave my face in a mere five seconds. Doctor. Here. Ready to stick me with needles.

"But that's not…" I gape. "I mean, I thought this wasn't necessary anymore…"

I glance over at Mama, taking extra special care to make sure she notices my terror. But she doesn't even have the decency to say anything to comfort me. In fact, the answer I get almost makes me want to hit her.

"It's a necessary precaution," she says calmly, doing anything she can to avoid looking directly at me. "You know, to make sure none of your children are born with health problems."

I think I might actually start crying.

XXx Aiko xXX

"Why such a long face?" Oka-san asks as she does some last minute adjustments to some decorative hairpieces in my elaborate yet outdated hairstyle.

"I've already told you why," I respond as I try to respectfully maintain my distance from her. "I'm going to be the only one showing up like this."

I gesture down to my pink and white kimono, praying to whatever god that is listening that she will see what she's done to me and turn this car around. But like always, she doesn't care about my pride and just pats my paler than normal cheek and tries to fix the paint on my lips.

"Nonsense, you look lovely," she insists as the car glides to a stop in front of a large banquet hall.

"That's not the point," I argue feebly. "I bet hardly anyone in there will want a wife that's this stuck in the past."

"Well then this will make your choice easier," she replies as she motions for me to get out. "And it will mean you've gotten a real gentleman."

I scowl at the floor as I get out of the car, not having the courage to actually direct it at her. The kimono trials after me, picking up dirty sidewalk stuff on the hand embroidered hem. I take a deep breath as I enter the banquet hall, feeling my cheeks flushing in shame before anyone inside has even laid eyes on me. All I can really hope for is that someone will actually gossip about how ridiculous I look, and that Oka-san will realize no one will want to marry me so long as I continue looking like this.

Every step takes huge amounts of effort, as if my mind can't comprehend basic motor functions while trying to prepare itself for the impending humiliation.

Try to make this into something positive.

This continues like a mantra inside my head as my feet drag slowly over the floor. I call up a mask of calm arrogance as I come to a stop outside the appointed banquet room.

Let them talk. They can get away with it as long as it brings Oka-san out of her medieval methods.

The pessimist inside me automatically knows that nothing will change her mind. She's way too set in her ways, and the only person who would willingly marry someone like me would be someone raised like Masaru. And I'll pitch myself off the top of this banquet hall before I marry anyone even remotely like my little brother.

Taking a deep breath, I walk past the sign that might as well just declare the room beyond a singles cruise. But without the whole cruise bit, so there is no way I can just go hide in a lifeboat somewhere and wait for this all to pass.

First glance tells me that my hunch was right. Everyone in this room looks like they've stepped off of a foreign runway, and the only other person wearing a kimono is a mousy haired girl nestled away in a dark corner, casting bitter and heartbroken glances at the large group of people mingling over in the center of the room.

I recognize a few people from school, but I keep my head down and hope to go unnoticed as much as possible. I just want to make my way across the room to the other kimono girl so we can sit together in a miserable but understanding silence until this is all over. And it almost works, until my walk is brought to a jarring halt by someone stepping on my ungodly long train.

I do stumble a few steps, but managed to keep from completely falling flat on my face. Against my better judgment, I take a small glance over my shoulder to see a girl trying to unhook the heel of her stiletto from the hem of my kimono. Some boy I recognize from my class is holding her shoulders to keep her from falling and splattering his designer suit with her drink.

The girl, who must be from a lower class since I don't recognize her, finally gets her heel free. She shoots me an annoyed look as she smooths the skirts of her dress.

"Tch…watch it," she scoffs with a roll of her eyes. "I'm walking here. Try to be more considerate of others."

She kicks the train of my kimono away from her and bevels her foot innocently, as if I'm the only one at fault. I might be in the excessively long kimono, but it's a two way street. She could watch where she's walking.

I keep up the mask of indifference, raising my chin for the look of arrogance that will hopefully get her to back off. Instead she just ignores the cue to stop talking and gives me a quick once over.

"You know, it's a little sad," she says as her eyes linger on my face. "You would be really pretty if you dressed more like this."

She does a lighthearted twirl that makes me sick to my stomach. The skirts of her lime green mini dress float lightly around her; creating an effect so lovely I feel a pang of jealousy and longing. She doesn't need to tell me what I already know.

I walk away slow enough to give the impression that her opinion means nothing, but her giggles tell me she sees right through me, or that she at least thinks she does. The boy joins in, and I can feel the shame traveling high into my cheeks and ears. My walk speeds up, and I make it over to the other kimono clad girl before I can give anyone else the opportunity to step all over me.

The girl looks up as I sit across from her. She gets no look of relief like I expected, but instead keeps a bitter, crushed face instead. I bite my lip nervously, probably staining my teeth with paint in the process. In a single minute the awkwardness becomes too much for me.

"Your mother forced you to wear a kimono too?" I ask softly.

"Keiji-kun didn't even notice me," the girl whimpers pathetically. "I thought I could impress him by wearing a kimono since he said he valued the beauty of this country's traditions. But there he is, chasing designer skirts like the rest of the boys. And after I've trained so hard to be a good bride..."

I don't quite know how to answer that, but it doesn't sound like she wanted me to anyways. She just keeps staring blankly at a boy with jet black hair and eyes to match, leaving me in silence again.

After an hour of sitting by watching the insufferable flirting, I decide to take my chances and leave. i managed to stuff my cellphone into the small drawstring purse Oka-san gave me. One of the girls should be able to bail me out.

On my way out, I attempt to hold my head high, hoping to appear as if the whole event is beneath me. I've only gotten halfway across the room when someone steps on the hem of my kimono again, and I glance over to see the same girl from earlier, flanked by a group of vaguely familiar faces.

"Oh, sorry," she says, keeping her foot on the hem. "Clumsy me."

Her group of friends laugh, and I can feel the shame rising in my face again. I give the kimono a quick tug, wrenching it from under her foot and causing her to stumble. Unfortunately, she doesn't take a spill, but it's enough to snap her out of her amusement. She glares at me as she steadies herself on the boy standing next to her.

"And by the way, the Feudal Era called," she says with a smirk. "They want their clothes back."

That's when I remember. This girl is the representative for the female students in class 1B. She's always so easy to overlook that I didn't even recognize her 'all dolled up.' Meeting her eyes with a mask of maximum boredom, I make a conscious effort of staring intently at the center of her face until I see her amusement crack and her brow furrow.

"Hey," I reply, pointing with all the disdain I can muster. "I love what you've done with your hair. How do you get it to come out of the nostrils like that?"

Her face goes a weird purplish color as she tries to sputter at me through her anger, and with that I spin on my heel and head for the doors as quickly as my kimono allows.

XXx Mori xXX

Personally, I've never had much interest in art.

Oka-san on the other hand, loves it. And since Oto-san is away on business today, she's taken the opportunity to get us all out of the house. That's how Satoshi and I ended up as the only teenagers in an art gallery auction that spans three floors.

Everyone else here is middle aged or older, and everyone seems to know everyone. They greet each other as they stop beside the various canvases mounted on the walls before engaging in a short discussion in the high and low points of the painting and moving on to engage in the same cycle again.

My eyes drift away from the painting in front of me.

While I'm not necessarily fascinated by art, I have respect for people that have the patience to sit for hours to create the smallest details to make me believe what I'm looking at is real, like sunlight bouncing off the surface of water or filtering through a canopy of trees. I guess I can just chalk it up to the same passion that I have for kendo and leave it at that.

Satoshi, surprisingly enough, seems to be enjoying himself. He's almost done a full lap of the floor, in between trips to the bottomless buffet of hors d'oeuvres. A quiet intensity has settled in his eyes as he drinks in the exhibition pieces with awe.

"Hey Taka-nii!" he calls out from a little ways over. "What do you think of this one?"

Oka-san has made it her mission to take home at least one piece, so she gave us the warning on the way in to snatch up anything we liked before someone else could. She's already lost her first three picks, so she's beginning to look a little strained. So when she sees the both of us crowd in front of the canvas she makes a beeline over from the other side of the gallery.

I glance over the painting. It's an almost completely greyscale landscape of some densely packed mountains capped off in heavy snow. The only color in the piece comes from the northern lights rippling up and around the mountain tops. The greens, blues, and purples come off especially vibrant in comparison to the rest of the color palette. Glancing down at the card mounted next to it on the wall, I'm surprised to see it hasn't been bought yet.

"It's lovely isn't it?"

A woman steps up next to us. She's tall and elegant looking, with hair the color of a rusted coin twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck. Her dress is plain black and other than a small strand of pearls around her neck, she is probably the most modest looking person here.

"Oh, Midori-san!" Oka-san interrupts as she steps up between us and the lady. "Congratulations. This gallery is even more amazing than last year."

"Have you seen anything you're interested in taking home?" the lady is quick to ask.

"I just can't decide," Oka-san responds as she folds her hands in front of her. "My first few choices were already taken."

"I believe your sons were just admiring this piece," she says as she places a delicate hand on the wall next to the painting.

"Your husband's work never ceases to amaze me," Oka-san says as her eyes trail over the piece.

"Actually…my daughter painted this one," Midori says with a hint of hesitation. "Ah! There she is! She can tell you more about it than I can. Orihime!"

A small figure detaches itself from a group of nearby art connoisseurs and turns back to us. Her face immediately freezes as she takes us in, but she gulps slightly before coming up to stand next to her mother. Shiori looks like a mini version of her mother, except for her eyes. While Midori's eyes are sharp and green, jumping for every chance to make a sale, Shiori's soft brown eyes express a little too loudly that she'd rather be anywhere but here.

"Why don't you explain a bit about this piece?" Midori says as she gives Shiori a rather forceful pat on the back.

The motion sends her reeling forward slightly, and she struggles to keep herself upright as she clears her throat. Her eyes dart around, looking for a place to stay focused on. Then she stiffens her shoulders and looks up, doing her best to meet my eyes while being over a foot shorter than me.

"I painted this while I spent summer break in Norway," she starts out nervously. "I've always loved looking at the Northern Lights, so seeing them in person was kind of a sensory overload…but it was just so beautiful that I went back every night after that to try and get it just perfect. Personally I love the combination of greyscale with choice elements in color, and I haven't done anything like that I a while so…it was really freeing to put this together."

Her eyes burn passionately for a moment and genuine joy breaks through her professional front. Color has returned to her face and rises high in her cheeks. She talks to me like she did the night on the ship, open and honest about how she feels about her craft. But this time I can see that no matter what she says, she really loves what she does. When it's on her own terms.

"Usually we don't display this kind of style…but, she was so adamant that it was her best work that we just couldn't say no."

As the words leave her mother's mouth, Shiori's shoulders droop visibly. Her eyes drop down to the floor, and she looks for a minute like she might cry.

"What do you mean you don't usually sell this?" Satoshi asks as he glances between the painting and Midori.

"We know the tastes of our regular collectors," Midori answers shamelessly. "It's a little dreary compared to what Orihime usually does. If you'd like, I can show you something from her previous collection, that one was a lot more-"

"I'll take it."

Shiori's head snaps up, disbelief written clearly on her face. Oka-san looks over at me curiously, and Satoshi tugs on my arm.

"No fair Taka-nii!" he complains with a knowing smile stretching across his face. "At least put it somewhere I can see it too! Like in the dojo!"

Shiori's face lights up, and she looks like she might cry again, but for a different reason.

"What charming boys," Midori comments as she tries to balance the shock that someone wanted the painting with the success of a sale. "Are they still at Ouran?"

"Yes," Oka-san says as she glances up at me curiously. "Satoshi is still in the middle school, but this is Takashi's last year in the high school."

"Oh!" Midori exclaims before glancing between Shiori and I. "So then you must be in the same class as Orihime then."

"Yes," Shiori cuts in. "But we've never really talked before now. Funny huh, Takashi-kun? I didn't know you were interested in art."

I glance down at her just in time to see her smile and press her index finger to her lips.

"Yeah."

XXx Hikaru xXX

I clutch the garment bags loosely as I step out of the limo, looking up at the manor house before me. Oka-san, as professional as she is, somehow managed to triple book today. She sent Kaoru and I out on the lesser of the two jobs. Because she is professional like that.

And it wouldn't do well for her reputation to cancel on anyone.

So she split us up to take care of it.

But as soon as I'm led inside, I begin to feel like I'd be willing to let the Hitachiin name take a bit of flack if it meant I could have avoided this particular appointment. Or if I could have just had the sense to look at the details before Kaoru and I went our separate ways. But it's way too late for ifs, ands, or buts. The best I can do now is try to not pretend that I would rather be literally anywhere else in the world.

It will be good for us she says. Learn to take on the family business she says. Develop some independence she says. Take the opportunity to grow as artists she says.

My fingers itch to check my phone again. But it's been half an hour and Kaoru still hasn't called me. So I guess it's safe to assume things are going ok on his end. I wish the same could be said for me. I'm not enjoying myself. And neither is my client. But then again I've never seen her actually enjoy herself so that's not really saying much.

Setsuko looks angry enough to spontaneously combust. And for once I don't want to be the one pulling the pin on that grenade. I still am sporting a yellow patch in the middle of my stomach from her boney knees that still smarts when I stretch it the wrong way. I don't need a fresh one.

Her lips are pressed into a tight line as I give her black evening dress a once over. Her father is still trying on his suit, leaving the two of us alone in a strained silence.

"Turn," I command with a little more force than necessary.

She scowls at me but complies, keeping her footing no problem in her sky high heels that put her at eye level with me. The skirts flare out elegantly just above the knees to accentuate the shape of her hips. That, coupled with her long dark hair and pale skin, she looks a lot better than I want to admit. So I won't. I'll just chalk it up to Oka-san's design skills.

"How does it fit?"

The question is stiff. But she glances at herself in the trifold mirror and offers it an approving nod. Which is probably the best I'm going to get from her. Damn…I wish her father would show up. I cannot take this much longer.

I sigh heavily as she glances at herself from all angels in the mirror. She adjusts the deep sweetheart neckline, which is probably a questionable design choice for a fifteen year old, but I guess they want her to look older for this movie premier. And Kami knows she needs all the help she can get. So if having that cut go halfway to her navel gets the job done then so be it.

"I swear to god if you're staring at my-"

"Do yourself a favor and don't finish that accusation," I snap. "It's not like you have anything to look at anyways."

She glares at me through her reflection and I glare right back.

"I'm sorry, was I meant to be offended?" she retaliates as she places her skinny arms on her hips. "The only thing offending me is your face."

"Real mature."

"Well I am arguing with a child."

"It takes a child to know a child."

"I hate you."

"I've noticed. You aren't exactly subtle."

She fumes in silence for a moment before turning around to face me. Her eyes are blazing brightly and she covers the distance between us in four strides. We're almost nose to nose and she forces her next words though grit teeth.

"Why did it have to be you? Out of all the designers I could have had why you?"

"You're making it sound like I planned it like this."

"Well you have proved to have an exceptional talent for making people miserable so yeah…I wouldn't find it so far-fetched that you would."

"I'm obviously not happy about this either!" I retaliate. "What's your problem anyways? What did I ever do to you?!"

She recoils from me then. Something flashes across her face before she composes herself again. She bites down hard on her lower lip before locking her eyes on mine.

"Well I guess it would be unreasonable to expect you to remember every person you've ever crushed for your own amusement. I'm sure I wasn't special enough to be the only one you did that to."

"Did what?!" I growl.

"Forget it," she snaps as she pushes past me, ramming her shoulder into mine with all the force she can muster up. "It doesn't mean anything if I have to tell you. Remember it on your own assclown."

She pauses in the doorway of the fitting rooms. Glancing back over her shoulder, she gives me her coldest look yet. I meet her every step of the way, refusing to back down from her challenge. Her lips curl into a smirk that promises that there is no chance of hostility levels going town around either of us anytime soon.

"Don't strain your brain over it though pumpkin," she says condescendingly. "I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself.

She strides out, and I can hear her tell her father the dress fits fine before the sound of her heels on the tile floor fade away. When her father steps back inside, his face shows no sign of noticing anything about his daughter's current state of emotion. And I can't help but wonder for a moment if maybe I didn't do something as bad as she thinks and having big emotions is the only way Setsuko feels she can get people to know how she's feeling.

But then my mind conjures up the image of a smirk that drips malice with a purity I've never encountered before. And a shiver goes down my spine.

XXx Kaoru xXX

This is the most anxious I've been in a while. Hikaru and I still aren't used to being away from each other for long periods of time. But I have a nagging feeling that he's probably faring a little better than I am.

There seems to be just some sort of inherent wrongness about being away from each other. But we both sucked it up, knowing full well without saying it aloud that the sooner we finish this the sooner we can be back at home.

The back lot is packed, and finding the correct sound stage is more difficult than I anticipated. As my luck would have it, it's the very last one that I approach, and I'm almost late for the appointment.

A security guard waves me in once I check in at the door and I find out the inside of the sound stage slopes down to a large dance floor ringed by rows of chairs. At the bottom of the slope are a group of five people. An older man talks sternly to a group of four students that are around my age. And one of them just happens to be Akina.

I was more surprised than I want to admit. And I guess she was the only one who seemed to pick up on my presence, a feat I credit to the chair I ran into more than any skill on her part. And if I thought I was surprised, my reaction was nothing compared to hers. She goes completely ashen at the sight of me, and her eyes immediately dart around, looking for Hikaru I assume, and any reason I could possibly have for being here. When her eyes finally land on the garment bags in my hands her body goes from its ridged state to a full on visible tremble.

I stop and take a moment to just watch her as she tries to tear her eyes away from me and pay attention to the lecture. What the actual hell is wrong with her?

The man lecturing the group seems to finally take notice of her reaction and turns to see me standing in the aisle way. He adjusts his glasses and looks like he's trying to recognize me, so I step forward and hold out the garment bags for him to see, and realization dawns in his small stupid eyes.

"I was expecting Yuzuha," he says, implying an explanation I find myself not really wanting to give.

"She's starting to give us a taste of the business," I lie as I make my way to the level floor. "So who's first?"

"Me!"

The volunteer is a tall brunette with a forgettable face. And the boy standing next to her, who I assume is her dance partner, is equally bland looking. The man shoos off Akina and the other boy, giving them instructions to run their number again while they wait their turn. They give stiff nods and walk back to the center of the floor.

I set to work handing out the first two costumes, and I can't help but make a certain observation as the two of them make their way through the steps of their dance. Akina is no longer trembling, and her focus is zeroed in on the map of footwork in her head. The amount of bodily contact seems to have none of the usual effect on her. She's more calm and collected than I've ever seen her.

Frustration washes over me as the other girl twirls into my line of sight and in her new small beaded dress.

"Well?" she asks expectantly.

She seems displeased as I do a quick walk around and find nothing wrong with the way the garment fits. I move on immediately to her partner, and am grateful everything checks out with him too. They get dismissed to practice in costume as Akina and her partner finish up, and she's back to shaking like a leaf as she takes her garment bag from me. Irritation rises up inside me again.

What is this about? What about us is just so horrible that she acts like we're going to use her as a sacrifice in a murder ritual?

She comes back decked out in a dark dress that makes stark contrast with her pale face. Her chest is still heaving from her practice. Strands of dark hair stick to the back of her neck and the sides of her cheeks, and she makes no moves to brush them back. I can feel my fingers itch with the halfhearted desire to brush them back for her. I know I'd be doing more harm than good, even if my intentions were innocent.

More of her hair falls over her face as she averts her gaze from me as I give her dress the once over. Because Akina's dress in a floor length ball gown, there's more things to check for, and even with that I find myself drawing out the process. I can practically feel her heart rate spike as I get down on my knees and mess with the hemline. Her fingers shake against the gathered material and she flinches every time my hands go anywhere near hers.

This is getting ridiculous.

Glancing up, I can see under the shadow cast by her bangs to her glowing green eyes. They look at her toes, never wavering.

"Turn," I command.

Her head jerks and she does as I said. The skirt billows around her nicely, but I can't help but feel something about the overall look could be better. I ponder on it silently as her arms drop back down to her sides. When her corpse pale hands fall next to the black gossamer, everything clicks inside my head.

"I'm going to admit," I sigh, not expecting the words that begin tumbling past my lips. "Pinks and champagnes do suit you better."

Her eyes flash up to meet mine. And for a second, they hold an insecure intensity that makes me forget where I am and what I'm doing.

XXx Author's Notes xXX

*ahem...* well that took waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay longer than it needed to. i got stuck on this one guys. there i said it. that and work has been crazy so, at least i'm getting work and bills are being paid and wifi is still available to me. i'm hoping i wont need months for the next update...see you guys later!

thanks for being so patient though guys, really

lotsa love, krystal