Well, this is a new idea I was inspired to write the other day.
Warning: I'm still working on most of the plot, so don't freak out if updates aren't frequent.
Description: Someone has passed, find out who and why in this fic.
Disclaimer: I own no Ouran... But if I did... Ohho... If I did...
The day was dull, clouds shrouded the sun that was supposed to be beating down on the redheads skin. Instead, the air was cold, and thick. One breath, and your eyes would fill with tears. But then again, they would fill regardless of the air today. Because today, wasn't like all the other days. Today was a day to mourn, mourn the passing of a soul. No one in the community, both rich or poor, never saw this coming. It was an event dreaded despite the person it was for, everyone who was anyone was there today. And they all cried. Not a single man nor women in the backyard had a dry eye.
Awnings that were dressed in black, with flowered lace hanging from the sides, are just another effort to contain the dryness. They prepared for every single thing that could have gone wrong. Too many people showed up? They had extra chairs, that were also robed in black fabrics. If it began to rain? Their awnings were the best money could buy, and custom made for such an occasion. If one stared at them long enough, one would be able to see the blue tint every shade of black bore. He always liked blue.
Tears were inevitable. When the rain came, it was as if the rain was a symbol of god crying over the lost sole.
"Sweetheart... Honey, the sermon is going to start soon," they told him. They wanted him to stop crying for at least three seconds, so that the other people could hear the expensive preacher preach about the life he had never even been apart of. The life that left his eyes within those three seconds. The life that left his body, like a spirit flying away. The orb that left through his forehead, and slowly floated up. He remembers, because he couldn't take his eyes off of it. It was paranormal, and scarring. Every second that followed were just a reminder of the last. Would the image ever leave his head? Did he actually want it to? He didn't know.
The preacher talked for the longest time, taking very dramatic pauses. Each one seemed at least a second longer them the last. "And in the end, he will be remembered not for what he has done," the preachers voice rose with every other syllable. "But who he has touched, who he has effected. Hikaru Hitachiin was a beautiful young man, full of manners and smiles wherever he went-"
"STOP IT." Screamed a voice which cracked on the 'I'. The young man stood up from his folding chair, fists clenched, face red, and eyes full of tears. "You don't know anything about him! How can you stand there and tell us all lies about him?" He was panting, and being urged to sit back down by his mother. Who to him, didn't seem to be as sad about his brothers passing as he was. Within an instant he was running at the plump japanese man, fighting the tears that almost rendered him sightless. When he reached his destination, he flew punches at the poor man. Tackling him to the ground, and bruising his fairly expensive face.
His relatives were in shock, but surprisingly a little amount. His friends ran to him, scooping him up with their tear stained hands, and pulling him off of the man. "Kaoru, Kaoru you have to stop! This won't bring-"
"Don't you dare say it!" He bellowed. Shoving them off of him, and stumbling backwards himself before he hit the floor. He sat there, continuing to weep, and weep, until his blonde senpai grabbed him, and held him in his arms. Others in the watching crowd began to cry as well. But in Kaoru's mind, no one would ever be as heartbroken as him. He has lost something he's always needed to survive. So, how is he expected to go on?