A/N: Hello hello! Welcome to Irrelevant Information, the killer one-shot. Well, it was written as a one-shot. It has been split in two for two good reasons; the first being that no-one in their right minds would thirty-seven pages as one chapter. XD The second reason is that more-or-less half way through the mood changes entirely from angst-ridden to humour and light-hearted romance. Therefore, I've ended this chapter in such a place that it will read perfectly fine alone for all those people out there who like angst and don't want my humour ruining it. XD Summary for part two is at the bottom, anyway.
Disclaimer: Evidently, I don't own.
Irrelevant Information
Part One
An ordinary day, for certain, apart from the fact Kyouya could almost relax. The club was in full swing, but he had no designators, and was sitting quite contentedly letting the club go on around him. The others had to behave themselves when the ladies were around, that much was sure, and couldn't do anything too disastrous when he was in the same room to intervene. Of course, he couldn't quite relax, because he had to work. Tapping away at the mysterious documents that no-one else knew the contents of, he almost didn't notice her approach.
"Kyouya-senpai…" A soft, whispering voice came. He looked up at her, showing none of his annoyance at the interruption, and smiled elegantly.
"Hello, there. Are you here to designate?"
She smirked at him. It was a cold smirk, almost amused. She tilted her head sideways. "What do you think I'm here for?"
Kyouya frowned slightly, but then smoothed his face over. "Alright… is it my attention you desire, or one of the others?"
"You'll do." She answered, sitting down in the seat opposite him. "After all, you're limited edition, right?"
"Excuse me?"
"Well, you won't be around very much longer, will you?"
"I assure you, I'll always be here… at least until graduation, of course."
She closed her eyes, laughing softly. "You don't realise, do you, Ootori Kyouya? You really don't get it…"
"I'm afraid not." Kyouya admitted, playing along.
"Heh. You will." She stood up and grinned at him again. "You're dreaming, Kyouya. And you're not going to wake up." She moved over to him, putting a hand on his face, moving it down his side to his hip. "Yes…" She muttered. "I think you'll be here a long time…" She giggled to herself, and left abruptly. Kyouya, unfazed, merely thought what an odd girl she was and continued with his work.
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Tamaki ran, pounding through the corridors, the only reason to retain his speed so he could read the numbers on doors as he zoomed past them. This was absurd. Impossible. Yet… he ran. On and on.
"Tamaki-senpai!" Haruhi's voice came from behind him somewhere. "Not so fast!" She was running too, they all were, but her shorter legs could not keep up with his panicked strides. He grabbed her hand and pulled her along, not slowing down for anything. Then, he stopped. The door was before them. He threw it open.
Glistening eyes looked up at them, all of them, huddled in the doorway. His sister.
"Tamaki-kun…" She mumbled, not sure what to say.
"Is he…?"
"I'm not sure. They say he's 'comfortable'. I don't know what that even means, really…"
"Kyou-chan…" Honey sniffled miserably from somewhere atop Mori's shoulders, as the whole lot of them peered over each other's shoulders at the figure in the bed. This was ridiculous. Unthinkable. It couldn't be Kyouya in that bed, beneath all the wires, a mask on his face, machines attached to his chest; face so pale beneath the dark hair, eyes closed. Kyouya did not have accidents. It was that simple. Yet…
They shuffled into the room a little further. It was a tight fit, with six members of the host club, Kyouya's parents, his brothers and his sister. Luckily, numbers were about to deplete.
"We have to go to work." His father said, abruptly, leaving the room. His wife and sons followed. Only Fuyumi remained, and she looked after her family, biting her lip, before gazing back at the floor. There wasn't, she supposed, much else they could do. She turned to the guests, doing her best to smile.
"And this must be the rest of the Host Club!" She said, bravely. "I'm sorry we couldn't meet… under more pleasant of circumstances… Thanks for coming."
Haruhi was about to answer that they'd been hardly likely to stay away after that call Tamaki had received just before school, but couldn't quite bring herself to. Somewhere inside, some small, weaker part of her was wishing she hadn't come. This wasn't right. She didn't want to see Kyouya like this, or anyone else. He never relied on anyone for anything… how could she take it now he was relying on a mask, some wires, a screen that beeped just to survive? It was just… wrong.
Tamaki swallowed. "What's the damage?" He asked, eventually. "Where was he hurt?"
"All over. But… the worst damage was down his right side. He's smashed his hip to pieces, the silly boy. And… one of his ribs broke. It collapsed his lung. They think they've fixed it now, though."
Tamaki nodded. No-one else said anything. Haruhi had to admit, she was amazed that he was dealing with it so well. She'd expected blind panic, tears, something. Not this… lack of response. He seemed so scared.
"You've done it this time, Kyouya." He said to his unresponsive friend, forcing laughter. "Making everyone worry like this…"
Hikaru snorted and spoke at last. "If it was Haruhi, he'd add to her debt everyday she missed hosting." The comment raised a few smiles, but they were fleeting, and didn't really last.
"Ootori-san…" Kaoru said, afterward. "None of us are doctors. All those… things. He's going to recover, right?"
"Of course." She said, smiling. "It is Kyouya, after all."
But Haruhi knew those smiles. Some of her earliest memories were of those smiles. From doctors, from her father, even from her mother. Each one assuring her she'd be fine. The doubt was there, but she said nothing. If there was anyone in the room who hadn't noticed, let them keep their hope.
And, after all, it was Kyouya.
No-one said very much after that. No-one really had much to say. But they stayed, and they waited, and they were there as the hours wore on.
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"Kyouya-senpai." That voice again. The girl was in front of him, and leant over the desk, resting her head in her hand. She pouted. "Have you still not worked it out? I'm disappointed…"
"I didn't realise there was a puzzle." Kyouya answered, not looking up from what he was doing. This girl made him uncomfortable, and he hoped that this way she'd get the message. She didn't, coming and sliding into his line of view.
"Don't you remember, Kyouya? I told you, you're dreaming. Aren't you even going to try waking up? I thought you'd be more fun to play with…"
"If I truly am asleep," Kyouya responded, going for the Tamaki approach. "Why would I want to wake up, my princess?"
She smirked again. "My, my. Fine words, but are they really true…?" She suddenly crouched by his side, whispering in his ear. "Tell me, Kyouya, how long have you been here? In this room? Do you even know…?"
He said nothing.
"Yes… I can taste it on the edges of your mind…" She laughed lightly. "The doubts…Hours and minutes without name… Doesn't it seem odd that no-one besides me has spoken to you yet? Do you really want to stay here…?"
He shuddered. How unlike him.
She smiled all the wider. "You're hurt, Kyouya…" She said, jeeringly.
He forced himself to smile. "Now, you really must be mistaken. I do not get hurt. That is far more Tamaki's area."
"No pain? That's good. That's the drugs… Though…" She looked him up and down, and then put a hand to his neck again. She winked once, then drew it slowly down his side. As her hand passed his chest, he felt as though it were on fire, just for a second, a flame jolting through his body. He had some relief, just for a second, then she reached his hip, and he was left gasping for a breath that wouldn't come. It really did hurt, and he couldn't tell her to get off him. He was doubled over, and when he straightened up, pain mysteriously gone, so had she.
He frowned. What on Earth…?
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They stayed there all day. Perhaps it was simply because nobody wanted to be the first to leave, or perhaps it was just because this was the one small thing they could do. This whole situation was so strange, so unreal- they hadn't even considered going to school that day. Time had rolled together into a squashed pulp, a mess, like it to had been dropped from a great height, and the darkness outside surprised them. Cars were called for. Haruhi was preparing to walk in the cold, crisp starlight- but, somehow, didn't want to leave Tamaki waiting on his own. Honey and Mori had each other, and Hikaru had Kaoru, and Kaoru had Hikaru and Kyouya had a team of doctors with the will to save a life. Tamaki was the only one alone. She was the second one alone, actually.
"You can go if you like." He said, as the twins' car pulled off. "It's okay."
"I'll wait."
He smiled at her. It wasn't his usual happy smile, but one of understanding. "Fine, but if you wait you have to have a ride home. Actually, I'd prefer if you did- it's dangerous out alone at night. I'm sure your dad is worried about you."
"He'll probably be at work, and probably won't be sober." Haruhi dismissed; and they waited in silence, neither saying anything else nor anything relevant. The car rolled up, crushing the hospital's gravel car park beneath it's merciless wheels. Haruhi had certainly never ridden in a car this posh. Still, the way she felt uncomfortable in it was nothing on how she had been feeling inside that stifling, all but silent, room.
They got in and sat there together and didn't say anything for a long time.
"He was… my first friend." Tamaki mumbled eventually. "When I came to Japan. Just in general, actually… In France, I didn't really get out much… So he really was…"
"Tamaki-senpai, you're using the past tense." Haruhi scolded, in as light a tone as she could. Inwardly, her heart was sinking. "Don't… pre-empt anything."
"That's right." He gave a shaky smile. "It is Kyouya, after all."
"Yes. It's Kyouya-senpai." She smiled weakly back. "He'll be outraged when he wakes up that we didn't do club today."
"He'll be taking his quiet revenge for weeks." Tamaki agreed, and Haruhi felt a little surprised that Tamaki even saw that side of Kyouya. He seemed hasty to defend his friend. "But Kyouya's not a bad person."
"No." Haruhi agreed, gently. "No, he isn't. Though… he is a little scary until you realise he's quite…"
"Gentle." Tamaki finished, and though that wasn't a word Haruhi generally associated with Kyouya, she thought about it and the more she did the more it seemed appropriate. For all his harsh words and threats and, indeed, sometimes cruel actions; his roughness, he always seemed calm and cool, and, somehow, in some way that could not be identified…
"Yeah, I guess that's the word I'm looking for." Haruhi said, and realised that the car had come to a stop outside the small apartment block. "Oh… I'll see you tomorrow, then, I guess? At school?"
"Yes." Tamaki nodded, but then said "I'll take you to your door."
"Um, Senpai… What with my dad… That's maybe not too great an idea." Haruhi said, sheepishly. Tamaki seemed taken aback, but then nodded.
"Alright… good night, then…"
He seemed so dejected that for a moment Haruhi couldn't quite stand to leave him. But she did, bidding him goodbye and slipping out of the door the driver was holding open for her. She went up the steps to her front door, relieved. The truth was, her father would be at work by now, but she had just wanted to get away from Tamaki; because she couldn't bear to see him so down, so lonely… She unlocked her door, thinking what a strange day it had been and what retribution they'd all get for skipping. Then she found she didn't care all that much.
She went into the quiet hall, but it didn't stay quiet for long. Suddenly, she found herself engulfed, swept up in her father's arms. And she realised she didn't want him to let go, seeking comfort like a child. At that moment, she didn't care to ask why he wasn't in work.
"Haruhi!" Her dad sounded almost angry. "Where have you been? Daddy's been so worried! The school called and said you weren't in, said none of the club were in, and none of their parents had been contactable or knew where they were, and I've been looking everywhere and… and…" He trailed off, realising that Haruhi had yet to push away his rebukes. "Haruhi? Haru-chan? What's wrong…? What's happened…?"
She finally unfolded herself from his arms. "We've been at the hospital all day, dad." She swallowed and answered his unspoken question. "Kyouya-senpai…" She gave a kind of strangled laugh as she realised how ludicrous the next half of her sentence would sound. "Fell off a roof."
She left Ranka mouthing in shock, and went to her room. She didn't have any homework, being scrupulous enough to do any on the night it was set; but today she had not been to school. She had sat all day next to a bed, listening to the plaintive ostinato of a heart monitor. As she lay on her own bed, she wondered if the monotony was a good thing- at least his heart was still beating, and steadily, not slowing, always, the same, slow, steady, beating, rhythm, not, breaking… down… at…all…
Haruhi did not cry for him that night. She did not believe in crying prematurely, she did not believe in wasting tears. She did not lie awake and worry as she had feared, but to her shame, fell asleep straight away, not even changing. She did not even dream of him, but instead she dreamt of a holiday she'd taken when she was thirteen, to a cliff top town. Her and her father's first holiday since her mother… But in her dream, she was sixteen, and could see it all again, as clear as sent. Worn old cobbles, and market stalls clinging to a steep hill, a coach station, the blue sky, a swarm of birds and tourists all streaming for the ocean, an endless strip of blue and yellow that stretched endlessly before her…
The dream, and the memory, was comforting; but even there, even there, it seemed she could not quite forget. Because the sixteen year old Haruhi knew that Kyouya was hurt, and that Tamaki was hurting just as much, but in a different way. And although the sun beat down on her mind all through that night it could not warm her heart.
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Kyouya was still working at his laptop, but the doubts had been planted now, at the edge of his mind. He was working.
What else would he have been doing?
Yes, he was tapping away and slowly getting through… through…
What was he working on?
The club's finances, that was it. Of course that was it. What else would it have been? But, then came the strange realisation that he couldn't remember exactly what he had actually done. Kyouya pushed this doubt aside again- it was simply that the routine was now so mundane he did it without thinking, his mind could wonder.
Then again…
Kyouya gave himself a shake. He had let the girl's words unnerve him, and that was a silly thing to do. ' I told you, you're dreaming. Aren't you even going to try waking up?'? It meant nothing. Not a thing. And the reason that no-one besides her had spoken to him was simple- they knew better. Still…
If only to restore his focus, to ally his strange, dream-like doubts, Kyouya approached Tamaki.
"Tamaki."
"Kyouya! Mon ami!"
Kyouya frowned a little at this. Tamaki had not called his 'Mon ami' since they were fourteen and the blond had first infected Japan.
"I'm so happy you're here! It's not healthy for you to be skulking alone in a corner! And think of the children- they need a mother!"
That was better. Yet, as the face grinned up at him, so very… real, something in the back of Kyouya's mind was calmly pointing out that this was what his mind would expect Tamaki to say, and the only way to find out would be to do something that his mind would never do.
But it was very hard to trick one's own mind.
Then, Kyouya thought, he did not need to trick himself, he just needed to put Tamaki into a situation Kyouya could not imagine Tamaki in. And one thing slipped to mind. He could think of no alternative, and it was so awful Kyouya almost hoped he was asleep or crazy after all.
"Tamaki." He said, perfectly calmly, showing no signs of his internal struggle beyond a momentary pause. "…I love you." He stated, matter-of-factly.
Tamaki grinned, leapt up, and hugged him. "Yes, Kyouya! You are my best friend! I'm so glad we can be open with our emotions at last! It can only strengthen the bonds of friendship so that they will always endure!"
"No." Kyouya pulled away, and suddenly found he was almost losing his nerve. "I… don't mean as a friend. I mean it." Tamaki looked blank, and, sighing, he vomited the words out again. "I love you."
He only said them because they were, frankly, the least likely thing he was ever going to say.
Ever.
And as Tamaki continued to look blank, the same mantra was running through Kyouya's mind.
Please be a dream, please be a dream, please be a dream…!
"What did you say?" Tamaki asked, head cocked to one-side. Then he suddenly grabbed Kyouya's wrist and started dragging him across the street. "Never mind, the coach is here! Yay, Japanese coach ride! Come on, come on!"
Kyouya followed his friend slightly numbly. What did he say? He found himself distracted by a girl standing on the street, smirking at him.
"Sleep well!" She called.
Kyouya frowned. What was that meant to mean? Was she mocking his inability to get up in the mornings? He'd have her know that was normal behaviour for any mentally stable fourteen year old…
Something struck him as odd about that thought, but he didn't know what it was. After all, most fourteen year olds slept in, least of all him.
So what could be wrong with that thought?
"Kyouya…Rapidement! Hâte! Hurry!" Tamaki whined, and Kyouya shouldered his backpack, going to join his newly self-proclaimed 'friend', who he had been somehow lumbered with since the tourist had arrived from France. Now they had to do the whole 'tourist' thing, going to see the sights… though why he wanted to do it on a commoner coach, and to such a cheap place, Kyouya could not fathom…
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"Tamaki-kun…"
Tamaki looked up to see a group of girls gathering around his desk, and smiled, and vague, half-formed compliments about angels flitting idly through his brain and falling to earth before reaching his lips; so he just kept the smile on his face.
"Um, we wanted to ask…"
"Where's Kyouya-kun?"
The question hung stark in the air. Tamaki was surprised no-one had heard yet. Then again, he supposed no-one had told the students. So he did.
"Kyouya had an accident… he's in the hospital."
There was a collective gasp, and he was immediately bombarded with questions, and it seemed to Tamaki as they seemed to overwhelm him, that he only had one answer-
"I don't know."
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"This is bad." At the impromptu meeting of an incomplete host club that lunch time, everyone having somehow ended up at the same table, Kaoru had drawn his brother aside.
"Yeah." Hikaru agreed, downcast. "But what can we do? Everyone's worried…"
They looked down the length of the table again. Tamaki and Honey were attempting to engage in conversation, and yet it was halting, kept failing them and slipping away, and the tone was always a little too light to be true. Neither of them looked as if they'd had much sleep, and even Mori was somehow putting out a troubled demeanour. Haruhi was sitting with them too, for once not even putting up a fight as they'd dragged her from a peaceful classroom. She wasn't eating too much. And neither, Hikaru realised, were they. He couldn't quite stomach it. It had taken a lot for anyone to be let into their world, and he wasn't ready to let anyone go yet. It wasn't just Kyouya. He'd never seen Tono or Haruhi like this, and Honey-senpai's smile kept fading…
"Kaoru…"
"Yeah. I know."
The twins made their excuses and left, drawing together in a crisis as they always had. They found a deserted hallway, and Kaoru pulled out his mobile phone. The two pulled together and crammed the phone between them.
"We're… calling to inquire about Ootori Kyouya…" Kaoru said, suddenly irrationally frightened of what they might hear. But the words came back as expected, as they always would, everyday, from then on.
"No change". And there never was.
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"I'm sorry… still no change."
"What?" Kyouya asked.
"No change." Tamaki repeated, stuffing his wallet back into his rucksack. "You paid for my ice-cream last week, remember? I need to pay you back, but I only have notes…"
"Forget it." Kyouya answered, oddly light headed. He wondered if the mountain air disagreed with him. His hip hurt, ached. No, more then ached. It was painful. It hurt, a lot. Like it was crumbling away…
"Kyouya!" Tamaki crowed in delight. "So generous! Mon ami!"
Kyouya pushed him away, before the boy could strain against the cheap commoner coach tour seat belts and hug him in such an undignified way. He felt the pressure remain on his hand and went to swat him off, but Tamaki wasn't touching him.
He frowned at his hand, but it felt totally normal again.
"I'm tired." Tamaki announced. "I'm going to dream."
"Pardon?"
"Is that the right word?" Tamaki mused. "Ahh, no, sorry, I mean 'sleep', don't I? Yes, I'm going to sleep… Bon nuit!"
"Tamaki…" Kyouya said, hesitantly. "Does anything seem strange to you…?"
Tamaki blinked at him for a moment, suddenly serious. "I thought it was just me…" He said, slowly.
"…"
"You've had a haircut!" Tamaki finished triumphantly. "I knew you looked different!"
"…Forget it." Kyouya shrugged, and pushed the strange thoughts aside. Sleep didn't sound like too bad an idea…
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"I'm sorry… Still no change." This had become Fuyumi's customary greeting for the last two weeks or more. She said the rest of Kyouya's family visited in the morning and later in the evening, but Haruhi wasn't sure she believed it. She hoped it was true. That day, it was just her and Tamaki. They'd all come as often as they could, after school, but the twins were due at some business dinner party their parents could not excuse them from, and, ironically, Honey and Mori were due at the same one. As the school's only commoner, Haruhi was naturally spared this pain and Tamaki's grandmother preferred him to be seen as little as possible.
"I see." Tamaki answered, as he always did, and sat down in one of the chairs by Kyouya's bed. "Well… perhaps tomorrow. And how are you, Fuyumi-san?"
Haruhi did not listen to the idle, polite, strained conversation. More then two weeks now, she had looked down on the pale face, covered by a mask, eyes closed beneath dark hair. It could have belonged to a stranger. But it didn't, it was Kyouya, and his glasses still lay folded on a side table, gathering dust. She was never sure what she was meant to do in this sort of situation; after all, she had never pictured herself comforting Kyouya. He wasn't one for intimacy or affection; but she missed his presence in a strange way. She took hold of his hand, just to remind herself that he was still there. He was still there, and he was still Kyouya.
"He is Kyouya, after all…" She whispered reassuringly to herself, as she always did, but she could never stop herself recalling sitting around another hospital bed, watching her father slowly fall asleep holding her mother's hand, and not knowing that the next time he woke she wouldn't…
"You seem tired, Fuyumi-san." Tamaki was saying. "You should get some sleep."
"I… alright." She said, eventually, seeming exhausted. She seemed to be constantly at the hospital. "Wake me up before you leave, okay?" Then she patted Kyouya's arm gently. He did not react. "I hope… I hope you're at least having sweet dreams in there, my little brother…"
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They stepped off the coach at long last, into salty air. Kyouya was relieved. He'd never known that automobiles could be so bumpy, nor roads so rickety. Although, he didn't remember all that much of the journey; perhaps he had fallen asleep despite the jolting and his usual reluctance to sleep in public.
"Ahhh, this is great!" Tamaki was marvelling, already running up and down the street to peer around at the small cliff-top town. "Look! An ice-cream parlour! Let's get one later, okay? Oh, and look! That shop paints shells! We'll have to get some, Kyouya- ah, I bet your sister would love one! Oh, oh, look! Regardé! A market! And all by the ocean!" He laughed in pure happiness and started to drag Kyouya up the sloping path towards the market place, full of locals and tourists out enjoying the sunshine. Tamaki stopped to marvel at some hand-carved wind chimes, and Kyouya took the time to examine their surroundings. More precisely, he was looking at the people- the curiosities that littered the stalls were of no value to him. His initial scan did not reveal anyone important, at least as far as he knew; but then his eye was drawn to a girl, probably a middle-schooler, brushing long brown hair back behind her ear with one hand, the movement what attracted his gaze. In the other hand, she was the blurb of a book she'd picked up from the stall, large, chocolate coloured eyes scanning over the words. Something seemed awfully familiar about her, but where had he met her…
"Ah, Kyouya, mon ami!" Tamaki interrupted, in an entirely infuriating tone. He had seen where Kyouya's gaze was pointed and jumped to conclusions. "Have you spotted a pretty girl?"
"Heh." Kyouya snorted. "I'm not the who's in denial. 'Fatherly feelings' indeed…"
Tamaki looked blank. "Pardon?"
"You-" Kyouya suddenly found he didn't have any idea what he had been about to say. He turned again and watched the girl as she walked away, having purchased the book, along side her father. Or her mother. The person was certainly dressed as a woman, but no; somehow, he knew, no matter how good the disguise, it was a man. But he couldn't know that. He didn't know the girl.
Frowning, he heard someone call.
"Kyouya."
He turned, and saw another girl smiling dangerously at him. He didn't know her either, he had never seen her before. But as soon as he looked, there was pain, all down his right side. His hand and arm, burning; every breath like sucking in razors of ice, and something pounding in his ears and head, a thin, mechanic bleeping…
"Who are you?" He gasped, as the pain passed.
"It doesn't matter." She smiled all the wider. "You'll get to recognise me in the end. After all, you're not going anywhere… not unless you remember…"
"Remember what?"
Tamaki was suddenly beside him again. "You promised!" he insisted, waving his arms in distress. And then Kyouya remembered. Yes, he had promised to spend some time on the beach today… so the two headed down for the sand.
"Although, on the subject of pretty girls…" Tamaki smiled. "I've had this brilliant idea…"
Then:
"Kyouya, let's start a club!"
And:
"…Talk dream-speak only in your sleep."
Kyouya shook his head in confusion- was he hearing things too, now? But he didn't think so. He didn't 'hear' them precisely, it was more like being hit by a hidden memory. A memory of a dream he hadn't, as far as he knew, ever dreamt.
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"You can't! You can't do this! He's still alive! He's still alive!"
"Is he?" The reply was quiet, in comparison to his harsh shouts. Hikaru, still on his feet, continued.
"He's still breathing! His heart's still beating! You… You… You can't just… You're going to kill him! That's murder! You may as well just cut his th-!"
"Hikaru." Surprisingly enough, it was Tamaki's cold voice that stopped the older twin's fiery temper. "Stop it. Just… That's… That's enough." His eyes closed for a long time, longer than needed. When they opened, tears flowed with them, unashamed. "…That's enough. For everyone. For Kyouya, too. My mother always said that sometimes… sometimes you have to know when to let go. And…" He swallowed painfully. "It's not our decision, Hikaru."
Hikaru just looked around at them all, the Host Club and Kyouya's family, and the man himself lying there oblivious. He stared, and then seemed to accept that perhaps there really was a time that all things had to end. He ran from the room, and Kaoru followed.
"We'll turn the machines off on Saturday afternoon." Kyouya's father said, stiffly. "So you can come and say your goodbyes."
"Thank you." Tamaki murmured, and gripped his best friend's arm briefly, his eyes dry again. "Then… I'll see you on Saturday, Kyouya." He turned to his friends. "Come on… Let's leave the family alone for a while…" He lead the remaining hosts out.
"Tama-chan…" Honey said, uncertainly. The King was looking at the floor.
"Honey-senpai. Mori-senpai." He said, flatly. "Please ensure Haruhi gets home safely."
Haruhi touched his hand, briefly. Normally, she'd object to this slight on her independence, but it did not feel right to argue just then; and she didn't want to be alone. It seemed, however, that Tamaki did, and they left him standing there.
He stood there a long time, and, when he was sure he could, he began to leave, only to have a hand tighten on his arm. He turned to see Fuyumi there.
"I…I wanted to thank you." She said, haltingly, trying to smile. "I wanted to thank you, because you're the reason that Kyouya's bed has been surrounded by friends everyday."
"There's no need to thank me." Tamaki replied. "We're here because we want to be. And if we didn't… if we didn't have reason to like Kyouya, we wouldn't be. So really… really, it's down to him."
Her sobs escaped her and Fuyumi could not speak. But she hugged him, and held him close, and Tamaki had not been held like that since he had left his mother, comforting and being comforted. But eventually, they had to pull away. Because there was always a time to let go.
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Haruhi sat quietly on the bench, next to where Honey stared down at the floor and Mori dead ahead, unblinking. The twins were leaning on a railing not far away, Hikaru with his arms folded and his head resting on them, face buried. Kaoru was looking at the ground too, his head in one hand.
No-one said anything.
Haruhi was thinking about Kyouya. As all of them were. She'd never stopped to think before how much these strange boys actually meant to her. Well, not really. She had realised a little, of course, on the day that her debt was paid off and Tamaki was leaving. She had chased him then. They all had. Because…
She still didn't know why. Without Tamaki, though, there would be no Host Club; and without a host club, there would be none of her friends, no chance to meet up with them. And now it seemed another of them would be making an untimely departure. She stared up at the overcast evening sky and tried to imagine what it would be like without Kyouya. She'd never tried before, because it was inconceivable. There was just… no way to imagine. She hadn't realised how used to things she had become, or how much her friend actually meant to her. Haruhi was never one for sitting around and thinking about her feelings; really, she hadn't ever really thought 'Hey, these guys are actually my best friends now'. And with Kyouya, she had never thought 'Would I miss him if he was gone?'.
Still. Now she had. And the answer was a resounding, undoubted, yes. She didn't know why- Realistically, Kyouya was not the most easily likeable person, and that wasn't going to change now he was dead. Almost dead, she amended hastily. Yet, something about him, and his strange, twisted sense of humour that was almost unnoticeable and dry as a desert; and something about his arrogance and confidence, and the strange way he did, yes, want to look after his friends; even though he couldn't admit it… It wouldn't be the same without him.
She didn't want it to change. None of them did.
At length, Tamaki emerged, coming down the outside steps to the hospital. He almost didn't notice them sitting there, waiting for him.
"What are you doing here still?" He demanded. "I thought you'd all gone home."
"We waited." Hikaru offered, simply.
"We thought… we ought to try and stay together." Kaoru added.
No-one voiced the thought that flitted through their heads- That they couldn't stay together now, not really, no matter how much they wanted to.
"Poor Kyou-chan…" Honey said, eventually, and offered no more.
"They're doing it too soon…" Hikaru insisted, hands clenching into fists. "It's only been a month! I mean, I mean, people wake up, right? They usually leave it much longer! They're doing it too soon!"
"No, they're not." Tamaki said, quietly. "It's been thirty-nine days. Fuyumi-san told me… she said that he's in pain."
They all looked at him, surprised, horrified.
"What?" Haruhi blinked. "But he can't be. They're giving him painkillers, aren't they?"
"It's not enough." Tamaki shrugged a little. "I didn't really understand… but they are all doctors, and, somehow, they can tell. From the spikes." He gestured idly with his finger the patterns that sometimes appeared in Kyouya's brain monitor, suggesting dreams, or something worse. "So… if it's hurting him… It's not too soon."
"Of course it's too soon." Haruhi said, quietly. "He should be living to an old age. But there's really nothing they can do…"
"No change." Mori muttered.
They silently digested this and the sky grew all the darker. Still, they stayed there, together.
"This sucks." Kaoru complained, eventually, upset. It was the world's biggest understatement. "He's a bit of a jerk, isn't he? Making us all feel so terrible."
Haruhi managed to spew out a small giggle. "Ah, trust Kyouya to… to make sure he gets his way right too the end."
"It's probably all his master plan." Tamaki agreed. "If he's going to die, he may as well do it in such a dramatic way that the designators are all falling over themselves to come and console us."
They all laughed, and cried, together; but nothing was funny.
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Kyouya lay in the small hotel room they were staying in that night, and looked up at the dark ceiling above him. For some reason that day, it seemed very far away. Too far away for him to reach. He couldn't get back.
He blinked a little as the thought crossed his mind. 'He couldn't get back'? Wasn't he thinking about the ceiling?
He reached the idle conclusion that this new friend of his was far too much trouble and a bad influence, that he was becoming far too dramatic, even in his own imaginings. Speaking of which, why was it his mind kept creeping, slipping back to the girl they'd passed in the market place? There was something important about her, he was sure, and somehow she was important to the mystery that he knew was before him, though he did not know what it was. But something about this was just wrong, and he was certain that if he could just think where he had seen her before, it would all unravel. 'you're not going anywhere… not unless you remember'. Was this it? Did he have to remember who that girl in the market was?
A name drifted in and assaulted him from nowhere, wandering across his mind. He sat up with a jolt, 'Hitachiin' still echoing round his brain.
Then he dismissed it. What a ridiculous notion. He knew the Hitachiins, of course he did, they were those twins in the Middle School section. Their parents owned the clothing corporation, and that girl was nothing to do with them. Neither, for that matter, was Kyouya- he had no idea why that name had struck him.
Then, another, 'Haninozuka' this time. But no, he told himself sternly, that was a martial arts family; their son was in the year above. No, not Haninozuka- Morinozuka
He almost snorted. Morinozuka? Wasn't that the tall, blank looking guy that always followed Haninozuka around? The one that won karate? No, wait, kendo.
Kyouya scolded himself for letting his knowledge slip this much, but couldn't focus too much on that. He was wondering why, of all the names that could have sprung to mind, it was those ones; and it wasn't over yet. Casually, another name slipped into his brain. 'Fujioka', something whispered. This time he was sure of it. It seemed to fit. Fujioka was her name, he was sure, but why did he know? He could not think of a company owned by the Fujioka family, and he was sure he had never seen Haruhi before-
Haruhi? He frowned to himself. Where had that one come from? The name fit her, somehow, that face with long hair and large eyes; he was sure it belonged. But why? Who was Fujioka Haruhi?
And then he knew. Because Haruhi was in the Host Club, he knew it, somehow instinctively, though he did not remember. He began to be weirded out a little. 'Host Club'? His brain was just throwing out random words, but they seemed to make more sense then the things around him. Yes, Haruhi was in the host club, along with him and Tamaki and the Hitachiin brothers and Haninozuka and Morinozuka. But that couldn't be. There wasn't a Host Club. Not unless-
Not unless he'd simply…forgotten… And now he was…
Dreaming?
Pain. It shattered in front of his eyes, took over his whole body this time, searing in at his hip, shooting down his body; the worst yet, like bleeding, driving all the thoughts from his mind, he wasn't thinking of anything-
And it stopped. There was a girl peering at him in the gloom.
"Did you remember, Kyouya?"
"What…?" He said, blearily. "What…?"
"Kyouya! Kyouya! Are you alright?!"
"Tamaki…?" Kyouya looked up in confusion at his friend's worried face. "What's the matter?"
"You were crying out in your sleep." He replied. "Was it a bad dream?"
Kyouya considered. Already, whatever images had been tormenting his mind has slipped through his fingers like water. He tried to cling to it, just registered something about dreaming; and a face, a name, and something he wasn't supposed to forget…
"Are you alright?" Tamaki asked him again.
"Yes. I'm fine…"
"Goodbye then, Kyouya."
"What?"
"I said: Goodnight."
"Goodnight." He answered, slightly baffled. He lay back down. How he longed to close his eyes and escape this dull room. But he couldn't. Then again, he couldn't go back, and it was the middle of the night. There was no reason not to let his eyelids sag and just let himself slip softly away into that most forgiving sleep…
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Saturday. Kyouya's last day. The clouds and rain of the past few days had lifted at last, and it was sunny and bright; and wholly inappropriate for the situation, although not for June. Wind stirred the trees, and a bird sang, and for a moment Haruhi drank in it; wishing Kyouya could have seen these things just one last time.
Then again, she thought, wryly, Kyouya probably wasn't one for appreciating nature.
She felt a little jolt as she realised she didn't really know. In fact, she hadn't really known Kyouya at all. Oh, she was sure she knew him as a person, on some level, she knew all the important things; but what about the unimportant things? She didn't know anything about his likes or dislikes, what he liked to read or how he relaxed, or… or his favourite colour. It seemed odd. In comparison to the others, she'd known him a relatively short time; and it felt as if she didn't know him at all. She'd only really begun to consider the two of them 'close' after the culture fest, when they chased Tamaki, and she'd danced with them all, and when it was Kyouya's turn he had muttered in her ear that he was glad she had decided to stay in the Club even now her debt was gone. He had been glad, and she had been glad that he was glad; glad that they were friends. But now, now that she had been thinking about him so much, there was 'that' question, that question of 'just friendship' that hung in the air and perhaps, just perhaps, she would have explored it if she had been forced too; but now it was better that she didn't.
Although, if she was honest, even if everything had been fine, Haruhi doubted she would have been convinced to let her thoughts veer off down that route. She was quite happy keeping her thoughts where they were, thankyou.
They gathered silently around his bed, because it was almost time, and this time it was Kyouya's assembled family that left the room. They'd already said their goodbyes, and recognised the importance of letting the Host Club say theirs.
And yet, as they hovered awkwardly around the bed, no-one knew what to say. They had to say something, anything, but… what was there that could be said? 'Sorry you're dead'? Yeah, whatever.
Haruhi pressed her hand over her mouth, lifted it off, pressed down again; not thinking about what she was doing. The rest all just stood there, stiff and still and desperately searching for something to say.
"Remember, the first day of the club?" Kaoru said, suddenly. "And we-"
"Were totally anti-social." Hikaru completed. "We thought it had been-"
"A bad idea after all-"
"And then Kyouya said that we were in the Club now and there was no getting out of it-"
"And something about his Private Police-"
"He was so scary." They finished together.
"I must admit, I didn't expect it to end like this…" Tamaki said, quietly, running a hand through his hair again. The action had been practised to perfection over the last month or more. "I never even imagined he would…"
"You never think the ones you love can die." Haruhi said quietly, and the memories were rearing up again, of her father clinging to her mother's hand, and falling asleep, because he didn't know, couldn't know… and how neither of them got to say goodbye. She couldn't let it happen again. She would not live with anymore regrets. "We have to say goodbye. Properly." She tried to convey the massive importance of this single act to the others, but couldn't explain. "We have to, or, we'll always…"
Tamaki placed a hand on her shoulder. "Yeah. Alright, then. Let's… let's all do it together." He wondered if he should grab Kyouya's arm, or his wrist, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't feel the warmth still in his friend's body and know that it would soon ebb away. Besides, he doubted Kyouya would want some huge display of emotion or affection. He never did. He relayed this to his club members, who seemed to agree that really, all in all, there was only one thing to say, and they all said it together:
"Goodbye."
"See you then, Senpai." Haruhi added, afterwards, not registering even now that she wouldn't.
"Bye, Kyou-chan…"
"Kyouya." Mori said, affirming both his friend's presence and his continuing importance simply by saying his name.
"We'll burn that clown costume you hated." The twins promised.
"…Goodbye." Tamaki said again.
And it was time.
Kyouya's family re-entered. So did the doctors. Tamaki suddenly wrapped his arms around Haruhi, and she realised she was crying, probably had been for some time; but he was crying too; and Honey, and the twins and Mori were so pale and stiff… Then, Kyouya's family. Haruhi could not see his mother's face, or his second brother's. The mother wept for her son into the shoulder of another of her boys, who was looking anywhere but at his sibling in the bed. That surprised Haruhi a little- she wondered how much time Kyouya had spent with is mother, and if she regretted how little it was. Fuyumi knelt by the bed, clinging onto her baby brother's hand for just a little longer. His oldest brother and his father stood side by side, awkward, unnatural, stiff and stoic. The doctors seemed a little off-put- perhaps they had never had to do this sort of thing in front of so many people before.
But Haruhi knew that they had to be here. It was only right that they were.
"I'm afraid it's time." One of the doctors said gently, and stepped forward, but Kyouya's father held up a hand to stop him. For an instant, there was a flutter of hope that quickly died down as the man spoke.
"I'll do it." He said, quietly. He had qualified as a doctor, long ago, this was his hospital; and turning off the machines was the only thing they could do to ease suffering now. It was his son, and he wanted to do it. "I'll do it." He repeated. "Kyouya… earnt everything he had. He never accepted anything for free. This… this one thing, I can give my son."
Tamaki watched as he moved towards the bed, as Fuyumi stepped aside. This all still seemed so unreal. Another dagger was pushing through his heart right then, as he realised what he and Kyouya had never considered- that his father regretted. Regretted never telling Kyouya he was proud, never apologising for pushing so hard, never, ever relenting…
"You are my son." He whispered, gently lifting his youngest child's head slightly, fingers caught in fine and wiry hair. He undid the strap and took the mask away from Kyouya's mouth. He had one, last look at his son's living face, and turned the life support machines off one by one. Then he stepped back, and together, the room waited.
They couldn't watch. The only person in the room who did not look away was Haruhi, because someone she cared about had left her before, and she had looked away too soon then; and now she could only remember her face from photographs. So she looked and stared at his features, and in her mind, whispered one final goodbye.
They fell silent, none looking, but all listening, as the heart monitor still bleeped valiantly away for another few seconds, knowing it would fall into a long and continuous drone. The beat slowed. His pulse dropped. It slowed a little more.
Some minutes later, Tamaki spoke, looking up and over at Kyouya's family, breaking the atmosphere previously dominated only by the slow and steady ostinato of the heart monitor. "Is it… meant to take this long?" He whispered, wishing it was all over.
"No." Fuyumi said, just as quietly. "No, it isn't." She raised red eyes to her family, who were all exchanging glances, looks.
"What does it mean?" Haruhi asked, fearing the worst, because a drawn out death would be even more painful then a quick one.
"It means… that he's doing okay." Fuyumi was saying, in disbelief. "It means that he's holding his own… It means he isn't ready to die just yet!"
They stared.
His father dithered for a moment, as the doctors stood in amazement. "I always knew he was stubborn." He said, eventually. "Well then… get that machine back on, quickly! Fuyumi, put his mask back on, we don't want the poor boy to suffocate after all this! My son is still alive!"
The Club members looked at each other in incomprehension, then disbelief, and then the Twins laughed, and soon they all were. Although nothing was funny.
"He's still in there." Tamaki was saying over and over. "He's still in there, somewhere, and determined as ever…"
"We should have known." Kaoru shook his head.
"It is Kyouya, after all." Haruhi finished, and beside her, the heart monitor continued to bleat out it's steady rhythm.
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A/N: And there it is. The end of the imaginatively titled 'Part One'. I have to say, Part Two is my favourite; but it really won't appeal to everyone so there's really no obligation to read it. Anyway. In Part Two, Kyouya's woken up, but there is what he calls a 'minor complication'. At least, he calls it a minor complication at first. He has no memories of the previous year, and consequently no memories of Haruhi. At least, he doesn't at first. Then he starts to remember things. Highly suspicious things, like pinning her to a bed at his beach house. Then, things really get messy…
Obviously, part two is just poking a bit of fun. But never mind that. Thanks for reading this far, chaps:D