A/N: This made me cry, so be warned.
A little tribute to the character Kyoya Ootori, because I think he is a very deep person indeed, and because I'm supposed to be doing my homework.
I don't own anything except the idea for the plot of this story.
A/N 2: We've changed nothing, because we thought this was absolute gold.
"YOU BASTARD!"
The cry echoes through the now silent music room, and girls and hosts alike stare at the blond who has just entered.
His cheeks are rosy, his hair is messy, and he looks for the entire world like he's just run from his home to Ouran Academy.
Except, he has.
And his violet eyes, normally so full of happiness and optimism, are dark with anger and hurt and pain. Tears stream unbidden down his cheeks as he launches himself at, of all people, Kyoya Ootori.
The dark haired boy hits the wall and slides down with a silent exhale, and makes no move to get up as his best friend glares at him with animosity.
"You bastard." Tamaki whispers, dropping to his knees, the tears falling thicker as he stares at him. "Tell me it isn't true."
His words are barely a whisper, and yet they can be heard throughout the room, and everyone is watching in fear, in anticipation.
"Tell me you're not…"
"Tell me you're not dying…"
Kyoya throws himself forward, ignoring the blood flowing freely from his lip thanks to Tamaki's punch, ignoring the clatter of his glasses on the wooden floor, ignoring the gasps and wails of those surrounding them, and grabs his closest friend in a tight hug, and together they cry, bared in front of shallow girls and terrified friends, the world they share shattering beneath them.
"Why didn't you tell me? That I could prepare myself, and make more memories and take pictures and just be with you? It would hurt less."
"Would it?" Kyoya speaks at last, drawing back and shaking Tamaki's shoulders under his hands. "Would it really? For you to hurt every time you see me, to hurt for longer? I didn't tell you because I want to remember the Tamaki I've grown to know and love, not the Tamaki who is all sympathy and pity; and I want you to remember me as a healthy, happy person."
Tamaki finally understands, in that moment, that Kyoya Ootori does believe in heaven. He's not so material, not so shallow as the blond once believed and now he's glad to have known the man who was his opposite in nearly every way.
But still.
"You promised me you'd be with me until the end."
"You promised me…"
Kyoya is silent again, and pulls the other man closer, allows him to cry into his shoulder, and not once does the thought cross his mind that it should be the other way round, that it should be Tamaki comforting him.
Because this is the way it has always been.
And later, when he has typed a letter to every one of his friends, apologising, telling them whatever crossed his mind, and he lies in his bed, clutching Fuyumi's hand on one side, and Tamaki's on the other, he asks them a final question.
"Was it worth it?"
And there is no need for elaboration, though it draws a chuckle from all who know him, because the question is just so Kyoya Ootori, so they all just reply with the answer that lies deep in their hearts.
And later still, while Tamaki sits beside his best friends lifeless body, he hears the question again, whispered in his ear by a voice he hopes he'll never forget.
Was it worth it? Going through the pain, just to know me? Was it worth it?
He looks at Kyoya, lying on his bed, and then he looks at Kyoya, silvery gold and standing next to him, ever faithful notebook in hand.
"Yes. It was worth it. Always."
Because it was.