Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club.

Everyone always expected it to be Tamaki. Truthfully, Tamaki always expected it to be Tamaki.

With his secretive looks and his oh-so-cute blushes, he was a sure bet. He was everything she could ever possibly want.

Kindhearted. Sensitive. Understanding. Filthy Rich.

He was their lord, their king. What Tamaki wanted, Tamaki got, and she wasn't going to be the exception.

However, he crashed and burned like nothing else every time, and no matter how hard he tried, she was always immune to his charms.

Kaoru suspected it was Hikaru. He knew that his brother was fascinated by her, completely entranced.

If he was being really honest with himself, he could even admit that he was as well. Yet, his attraction was more on the ascetic level, the same way someone admired the sun. It was beautiful, yes, but no one really wanted to touch it.

Still, he was always curious. He pondered why she allowed them to touch her, to practically manhandle her all over the place. Perhaps it was simply her way, her show of support for them and their often abrasive personalities. Maybe it was something more.

Either way, did it really matter in the end? She had already fulfilled her purpose. She had shown Hikaru that he was his own person, that he could be different than his twin without the world coming to an end.

Kyouya didn't really care who it was. Well, that's not entirely true. He did care. But at the same time, he truly did not.

He didn't desire her for himself. She was a good person, an interesting person, but he could never really picture himself with her. She cared too little for the world of the rich to ever bother truly entering it, and he knew too little of the commoner's realm to ever be comfortable there.

So she simply remained an acquaintance… perhaps even a friend.

Honey always wondered if it was someone else, if it was no one else. Perhaps she truly did have no interest at all. Maybe she merely wanted to get through school, survive the walking disaster, the catastrophe that was their Host Club.

Yet, he couldn't help but speculate. He might be small; he might be cute, but that didn't mean he was an idiot. He saw what no one else even noticed.

The shy glances. The hidden smiles. The faint blushes.

He could have been reading too much into it, but he didn't think so. And honestly, he couldn't have been happier. They were practically made for each other.

Mori, on the other hand, didn't expect. He didn't suspect. He didn't wonder. He didn't ponder. He didn't speculate. He never had to.

Mori already knew.

The others never even had a chance; they had lost before they even realized there was something to lose.

Besides, Haruhi always had favored the quiet type.

Ever Hopeful,