Honey wasn't sure how to approach Tamaki about this. He couldn't get the words out of his mouth to say. Aside from Kyouya, they were all staying in Tamaki's home. He had insisted. The Suoh home was empty, he had said. "It was empty now." Honey was glad that he had agreed. The news reporters were bothering him now. Unceasingly, they rapped on the door, asking how the school would function, asking if Tamaki was going to step down from his position. Hikaru and Kaoru were good at keeping them away. They had no qualms against being rude. It was no different, seeing them this way when Honey knew that they cuddled each other in the night, crying. But he had no right to speak of such things; he did the same with Mori when he retired to bed.
Tamaki had yet to notice that they were in the same room. "I'm sorry," Honey said, and tears filled his eyes without warning. He sniffed. "I wish that I could have done something."
The whole house was quiet now. No boasting father spinning tales of Tamaki's mother—no maids, no help; the estate was dismissed for the week.
"I don't have anything left," Tamaki said. He seemed to have ignored Honey's statement. "…have the press gone away yet?"
"For today," Honey answered. He wished that there was something that he could do. Cake and stuffed animals couldn't make this better.
Tamaki held his head in his hands, his nails visibly racking his scalp. "They'll be back tomorrow."
"And that's not true," Honey replied, ignoring Tamaki's most recent statement. "You have her."
Tamaki simply shook his head.