Author's Note/Warnings: Okay, let's start off with the basics here. This is a death fic. I won't mislead any of you. The whole thing is about death and contains a lot of angst-ridden undertones. If you chose not to read this, I understand. I know that death fic's are often looked down upon, however I wanted to write one. With that said, this is a piece that I've worked long and hard on. For those of you that start this story, I hope that you can make it all the way to the end. As always reviews are loved. This story does imply feelings of incest and boy x boy love as well.

Disclaimer: I don't own Ouran Host Club. I make no money from this.

Solitary Double

One-shot

No Beta

Written by: Crimson2006

"I'm twenty-six years old, and I'm all alone." These are the words I never imagined myself saying. Even now as they flow from my lips, they seem surreal. In retrospective it feels like a lifetime has passed since I last smiled, but looking back on the calendar, it's only been three [i]long[/i] days. No. Long isn't justifiable. Painful, tormenting, hellish… those are all slightly more acceptable. But in all honesty, no words will ever be powerful enough to express the way I feel; how I'm going to feel for the rest of my life. Hikaru died. He left me alone. He broke his promise that we'd always be together, and now I don't know what to do.

I attended his funeral this morning. It was a beautiful service and all of our friends were there. They cried, shared warm words, offered sympathy and reminisced on fond memories.

I felt as it were all a ploy.

Perhaps some part of me was always this way, or maybe it was his death that changed things, but I've come to the realization that I'm no longer capable of grasping the ideals that I once had before. Everything certainly won't be alright and there is no such thing as a happily ever after. It's because of this –in a sick way– I've come to discover that just thinking about the good times won't make them real, not anymore. Without Hikaru there's a void encasing me; the shallow recollection of what we used to share and what it's now become: a lonely abyss of nothingness.

The reality of it is, that I'll never be able to look into his eyes again. We won't be able to split a bowl of strawberry ice cream in the summer or a blanket in the winter—our bodies curl up in front of the fireplace, heads leaning against one another as we share our special secrets. I can't steal his CD's and he can't borrow my favorite shirt –the one he'd already stained twice and continued to borrow despite my loud and belligerent protests. We can't argue over the remote or sneak outside to smoke a joint. There won't be any more laughing, smiling, dancing, singing, hugging, holding, loving –none of those things. Only tears, and solitude, churning in an emptiness that will never go away. That is what awaits me—a damned fate which I can not escape. To be honest, without Hikaru, I don't know who I am. What my place in this world is, or if I even belong here anymore. We were so close and now we're so far apart. It just isn't fair.

I want my brother back.

Everybody tries to understand, but they won't ever truly comprehend what we had. To them –our family and friends– he was just a person of flesh and bones. But to me, he was my life. We were a balance. The sun and moon, the land and sky—when one becomes obsolete, the other withers away as well. It's no different for Hikaru and myself. I know that it's only a matter of time for me…until I meet the same fate that he did.

Standing outside of his bedroom I shutter. He never slept in here, he was always with me. Regardless of this; his personal possessions reside beyond this door, and mother has left me to take care of them. I hate how she's pushed herself into the darkness. She even refused to attend the service this morning. All day long –ever since the accident– I can hear her crying. I know that she loved Hikaru most of all. That I am, and always will be, second in her heart. Things like that used to bother me a lot, but now days I don't even give it a courtesy glance. I don't care about who has her heart, because Hikaru died with mine.

We…we were never lovers. A lot of people thought we might have fancied each other that way, but it wasn't like that. I mean, if I'm being honest, I'd thought about it before. The thing was, Hikaru always seemed to be interested in girls so I didn't want to say anything. It probably would have torn us apart… But maybe, he wouldn't have been driving that night. Maybe he would still be alive now if I wasn't such a coward; if I had confessed my feelings…

But look at me. I guess I'm being selfish. When I really think about it, Haruhi is the one who has it bad. After all, he'd been on his way to see her when it happened. Hikaru had finally decided to pop the big question. The two of them had been dating for a solid five years, so it was only natural that he wanted to settle down. That night, he was going to take her to a little French restaurant on the West front and ask her to be his wife… too bad he didn't even make it to her house.

But you know, now that I think about it… Fuck it all and fuck that bitch. She's the reason he isn't here now. It's all her fault that I don't have my brother anymore. She can go on with her life. Haruhi has plenty of years to find another person to love. But damn it, Hikaru was all I had!

Standing there crying, I know that what I'm thinking is wrong. Haruhi is my friend too, but resentment it a bitch. I feel so gypped. There were so many things that I wanted to tell him; so many years that we had yet to spend together. It's my fault though, and I shouldn't hate Haruhi, because I know Hikaru would be ashamed of me. Even in death, I don't want to disappoint my older brother.

Turning the door handle, I wipe away the tears with my freehand and enter the cold room slowly. Hikaru's things are scattered about in a haphazard matter. Clothes are flung about the floor and furniture. All the dresser drawers are cracked open –papers, books, magazines and what appears to be some of my clothes are protruding out from them. Dust adorns his entertainment center and in the middle of the room is a perfectly made bed. In that moment I can't help but force a smile. Hikaru never slept in that bed, not once in all the years he'd owned it. And he was such a messy person…so untidy that it was ridiculous. I was always having to clean up after him; take care of him, look after him. Even though he was older then me, I sometimes felt that I was more responsible—in another sense altogether though, I was twice as immature.

It's all these thoughts and many more like them that make me cry all over again.

After six hours of shifting through my brother's stuff, I finally decide to take a break. Walking around the bed I dip down towards the mini fridge and pull out an ice cold beer. We use to store our 'stash' in his room, not just alcohol –even though we were both legal– but pot as well, since most people stirred clear of the place. The maids used to say the area was an occupational hazard, and mother, she didn't care. She let Hikaru do whatever he wanted. He was the lucky one in that sense; he always got off scot-free. Well, almost… The night of the accident, he hadn't been so lucky.

Letting that terrible thought slip from my mind, I tip the glass bottle back and savor the sweetness of the golden ale we used to constantly indulge ourselves in. God, if I wasn't so strong I'd probably drink myself to the grave. I miss him so much. It's like someone has cast a spell over my mind. This whole world seems so damn surreal. Another wave of tears falls from my eyes. It's just not fair; I want to see him again. I want to open my eyes and find out that this is all a bad dream. I want his eyes –our eyes– to fade into one another. I need his smile to lift my soul, his pout to make me laugh and his arms to hold me close. But I can't have that now, can I?

I'll never have any of it; not ever again.

Wanting to shake those memories away, I lean down and plant my ass on the floor, the boards beneath me moaning in protest. Flinging my head back I chug the rest of the beer in a few deep swigs. I stare at Hikaru's room for a while, and then reach into the icebox to grab another. I said I was stronger then this; that I had will power, that I wouldn't drink myself into a state that I didn't need to be. It was all a lie though. If he isn't here, then I have no reason to be either. I need to escape this reality.

I don't know how long I sit there drinking. But when I lean over to confiscate my eighth beer, my eyes catch a glint off to my side. Normally I wouldn't think very much of it, but the said thread of light came from the top shelf of Hikaru's closet. Although many would still find such a thing to be usual, for me it's not. Hikaru only kept junk on that shelf; stuff from when we were kids, photo albums and x-rated movies. There shouldn't have been anything shiny up there. And yet there was.

Standing up the thought of another beer is completely lost; merging into a dire need to cure my curiosity. Carefully making my way around a few dozen boxes, more clothes and various other personal items belonging to my now deceased brother, I enter the closet with trepidation. I don't know why, but I suddenly feel as though I'm not alone and for a moment I lose myself; calling out Hikaru's name.

But there isn't an answer. And why would there be…

Moving random things around, I try to locate the shiny object again; finally finding it half-way buried between a bunch of old porno's and our high school year books. It seems almost impossible that I could have seen it shine –as only a three inch strip of it is visible– however I did, and here I am, shaking it free from all of the debris. Throwing the aforementioned items to the ground, I pull the sliver box completely from its hiding place. It's no bigger then 8x10 inches, and a strange tribal design is printed across the lid; wrapped all around the sides are thick, horizontal lines. I find myself frowning because I've never seen it before.

Making my way back to the bed, I flop down on the silk comforter, flipping open the lid to reveal what's inside. Neatly tucked in-between the red lined interior is a single envelope. For a moment my hands freeze, my breath grows still and I can't come to terms with what's neatly written across the white little square.

'For my beloved brother Kaoru'

Hikaru had wrote this for me… but why? Out of our twenty-six years we'd shared everything. Well, except for Haruhi, but things like that didn't count. He'd always told me what was on his mind, even if it was something really stupid or lame. So what was in the letter? What were the words that he'd been unable to say to my face? Suddenly my heart constricts and I have to know.

Reaching down I snatch the fragile paper, opening it up rather heedlessly. Inside there are three more sheets, each neatly folded into squares. The first one looks like it's about ready to fall apart; the edges are torn and its once white shade now favors more of a yellow hue. It also appears to have been read countless times, the creases and folds adorning it are a clear indication of this. The second letter is in better condition; but there are still a lot of folds –giving away to the fact that, it too, just like the first letter, has been read on various occasions. The texture of this paper is a lot stronger though, as it doesn't hold such a withered look and its tint is that of an eggshell white. The third and last paper is like new. It looks as of it's only been open a dozen times or so, making the paper still appear crisp.

Deciding to open the oldest one first, I set the other two down with great care and unfold the remaining letter in my hand. Just gazing at the font, the sloppily drawn lines and misspelled words, I can tell that Hikaru wrote this when we were in kindergarten; maybe first grade at the latest.

Kaoru,

Yur the most important person in the whole wide world. I love you, and I'm so happie that u r my brother.

The words sting me. I miss him so much. Surprisingly I'm not crying though, I'm laughing. Yur? Happie? Hikaru was never good at spelling, even when we were little. I can remember all the times I'd made fun of him for it. I can't help but wonder if that's why he didn't give it to me. Was he afraid that I'd taunt him? No. That didn't seem right. He'd given me homemade cards all the time. In fact, I still have quite a few of them hanging on a cork-board in my closet. There mingled amid various picture of our friends and family. I'm sort of sentimental that way.

"So why didn't you give me this one," I found myself questioning out loud. It looked as if he'd reopened it so many times over the years…re-reading the words that were no different then the ones we'd verbalized our whole life. So why was this letter so special?

Figuring that I might find the answer in one of the two remaining letters, I set the first one down. Pulling open the second oldest letter, I take notice that this one is much longer. And judging by the handwriting it was written by Hikaru when we were in high school. Biting down softly on my bottom lip, I begin reading the more formal letter.

wo years. I never thought that we'd be in a club with Tamaki! Or that we'd meet someone like Haruhi –she understands

My dear sweet Kaoru,

I'm writing you this letter because you need to know something. I'm too ashamed to say this out loud, and to be honest, I don't know what your reaction would be if I told you to your face. We've been together out whole lives and during that time we've shared so many fond memories, but over those same years it's become obvious that we're grown. I mean, just look at the last t us so well. Still, I cherish the days when it was just you and me. I hold those memories so close to my heart—closer then I think you realize.

Haha, well, I guess I sound kind of stupid now; it's always been the two of us…and it'll stay that way forever. That's why I made that promise: That no matter what, we'll always be together.

But I suppose I'm just rambling now…and I'm sorry. It's just that this is so hard for me to say. I thought writing it would make it easier, but I'm not so sure now.

Okay…enough pussy-footing around.

Kaoru, I think I might be bi.

It's just that, well…I know I like girls. But I sort of feel attracted to guys too. And it's really weird. Mom would freak out if I told her. And our friends…I'm not so sure they'd understand. Especially Tamaki. I sort of have a little crush on him. I'd die if anyone found out about it. I'm not even a 100 percent sure that I like guys. I mean, maybe this is just some sort of phase. Maybe I'm just being silly. People grow out of stuff like this all the time, I think? I just really want someone to talk to. I feel confused about so many things.

I love you so much Kaoru and I trust that you can keep this just between us.

Sincerely, Hikaru

My heart has stopped at least five times during the few minutes that it's taken me to read the second letter. Hikaru was bi? He had a crush on TAMAKI? I can feel my heart pounding to an irregular beat. "What the Hell Hikaru!" Suddenly it's all catching up to me, the words leaving my mouth while my mind is on auto-pilot. "If you trusted me so much, why the hell didn't you give me this letter? Did I really mean so little to you…?" I feel my chest tremble; the tears are falling without my consent. "Why didn't you tell me Hikaru, why aren't you here now? I want to cuss you out, you bastard. You suffered all that time. You had no one to talk to. And I was right here!" I finally stop shouting. He can't hear me. He's dead. I break down and cry, the tears falling heedlessly before coming to a stop; only to pick up once more. After a good twenty minutes I regain myself and open up the third and last letter. This one is dated. It was written a little over 3 months ago. For a minute I can't help but wonder what the hell this letters going to say. That he'd gotten together with Tamaki and found out that boys just weren't his thing. Or maybe he cross-dressed in Haruhi's clothes when she wasn't home. It's probably best that I just read the damn thing, and get it over with.

Dear Brother,

There have been three times in my life that I've written you something, having the full intension of giving it to you, but each time I've chickened out. The first was a letter that I wrote to you in Kindergarten. The second was one I wrote in high school. And the third is this one. I won't give you this letter, but I write it in the good faith that one day you'll find it. I hope that by the time you get to the end of this letter, you can understand why I've done this.

Kaoru, I'm not bi. For a long time I thought that I was; but then I came to realize that it wasn't that simple.

Perhaps I should explain…

Today I went out and bought an engagement ring. I've finally decided that I'm going to ask Haruhi to marry me. I doubt that I'll be able to pop the question right away though. I still have some concerns…I guess I'm writing this to you in hopes that you'll find it before I ask her. I want you to talk me out of it. Marrying Haruhi will be the second biggest mistake in my life. I mean, she a great girl; loving, kind and always thinking about other people –you know, at one point in my life, I even convinced myself that she was perfect– but I don't love Haruhi. In fact, the truth is, I don't even like girls.

You wanna know something bro, I don't really think I was as confused as I thought. That note I wrote you in kindergarten –the assignment was for us to write a letter to the person who we loved the most. Obviously it was you, but I couldn't give it to you. Every time I'd see your beautiful face looking at me, I'd lose my nerve. Kaoru, do you know just how beautiful you are? Haruhi could always tell us apart because she saw our differences. But she still couldn't see you like I did. In my eyes, we were never the same. You were always perfect. Your hair was always a little shinier then mine, your skin more vibrant, your laugh more colorful. Everything about you was charismatic…and I was dull and plain and ordinary, and for a while I was jealous, and I resented you for it. I couldn't see how much I loved you…that you were the only one I loved.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, that all this time I've been in love with you. I was just too afraid to say anything.

I suppose by the time you read this it'll be too late. When I started this letter, it was meant to be a confession…but I guess it might become a little more then that. In fact, when and if you ever read this, the chances of me still being alive are slim to none. I'm going to give this letter three months. I'm going to put it in my closet and bury it beneath all those stupid porno movies I've collected over the years. I know you're always shuffling through them…so maybe you'll find this. Maybe you'll save me.

But if you don't happen to read this letter during that time period, then fate was against me all along.

In exactly three months, I'm going to take the engagement ring and drive to Haruhi's house. But before I leave the mansion, I'm going to down every pain killer that I can find and top it off with a bottle of hard liquor. How far do you think I can get before I lose consciousness; before my heart stops beating. If there is a god he'll kill me Kaoru, to end my pain, suffering and lies. I can't go on pretending anymore…I can't go on living, with you simply being my brother.

I don't want you to be mad at me. I just need for you to understand that I'm a coward. I spent my whole life living a lie. And then when I realized the truth, when I sorted everything out, I didn't have the courage to tell you. I was afraid of losing the only thing that I was sure of. Death is an easy way out…and I'm sorry if I'm dead when you read this…

I love Kaoru. I love you, I love you, I love you. I'll never get tired of saying it. I'll never get tired of writing it. I'll love you even when I'm dead. Nothing will ever change that.

Please forgive me for loving you more than a brother should…

Forgive me for all the things I couldn't say and these feelings I can't fight any longer.

~Hikaru

Baka! My hands tremble as my chest heaves rapidly, eyes pouring out tears to the point that it's painful. "I loved you too, idiot." All this time I was afraid of telling, and all this time he was afraid of the same thing. It just wasn't right! And the accident…

Oh, god. I let the paper drop, my hands covering my mouth. It was never an accident; he'd meant to kill himself all along. Shaking violently my body automatically bucks over, the contents of my stomach falling out onto the floor. This entire thing is my fault! If I would have only found the box sooner, if I had read the letters and understood how he felt, Hikaru would still be here with me right now. That realization slams into by body like hells fury, it leaves me burning; tearing away my insides and manifesting scars that will never be mended. Suddenly, I want to die too.

Although the though has crossed my mind hundreds of times since mother received the phone call from the hospital; the sensation has never burned with the force like it is now. If Hikaru's dead, then I should be too. He killed himself, and now I have every reason to do the same. We can rot in the bowels of hell for all eternity together, because people like us aren't granted admission into heaven. I wouldn't want to go there anyway. Not if it meant that I'd never see him again.

Blinking, I find myself looking at my own reflection. I can't recall moving off the bed, or even opening the bathroom door and walking in. Yet here I am, looking at myself; at my reflection. No, that's wrong. The image I see –the honey golden orbs with wisps of green tucked in the corners –those aren't my eyes. I'm not whole without Hikaru. I'm not even real anymore. The image that's left is one that I loathe. I hate myself with an undying passion. I killed my brother. I need to die too.

I lean over and open the medicine cabinet; I don't know what I expect to find in there, maybe a razor or some left over pills –but what my eyes greet makes me gasp in horror. Five bottles; two of them are prescriptions and the remaining three are over the counter medication. I shake each one and find that they're all empty. He'd taken so many. His death had been sealed. I realized in that moment, mine was too.

"Forgive me as well," I whispers as I reach past a few smaller items and pluck away a razorblade that's sitting on the top shelf. Carefully I close the cabinet, wondering if the piece had been left there just for me. No. Hikaru wouldn't want me to kill myself. He'd want me to live on and be happy. I can't do that however. Not knowing what I do now. Not when there's nothing left in this rotting soul of mine but pain and regret.

Looking again at my reflection I stare back with a blank face. My eyes are clear this time, my mind at ease—and when I raise the razor to my writs there is no hesitation. I make the cut flawlessly, happily, with all my love.

"Forgive me because I love you too. I can't live without you."

Love—it's such a funny thing. So ironic in one sense and yet justifiable in another. Everyday in this world people find and lose that precious sentiment, and each time their stories are different; their emotions either leading them forward or making them collapsed in a unique rhythm that distinguishes them from the rest. Diverge, no one will ever know the true anecdote that Hikaru and I shared. How the love we held was forged by so much despair. They may read the letter, but they'll never understand the meaning of the words. Foolishly they'll see a suicide, and a brother who couldn't take the grief or maybe the shame of his older brother's sins. That's okay though, because the meaning of our deaths belongs only to us. We don't need to share it with anyone and we don't have to be scared anymore. In death we can be free.

I know this to be true. Because in this darkness, as I die, I can already see your smiling face looking back at me.

"I love you Hikaru…"

And then there's nothing more.