One shot. Two. Three.
"Tamaki!"
His eyes widen, and he sinks to the floor an inch at a time, his legs collapsing. He tries, it seems, to not to let out any sound, but a panicked half-sob escapes him.
There's blood.
He might die.
The twins are loyal to the end, despite their perpetual good-natured animosity towards him. They run at the shooter, overwhelming him.
He's probably sorry for what he did- I recognize him: a high-schooler who caved under the stress of high expectations, his hand shaking from writing and studying twenty-four-seven, trembling too much to even be able to shoot straight. I know what that's like- feeling like you need to take your anger out on others. But that doesn't mean that I'll forgive him.
They knock him against the wall, his head hitting with a smack against the plaster. He falls heavily to the ground, unconscious, alone and forgotten as the two vengeful devils run towards us. Hikaru looks like he's going to cry, holding back a scream as his chest heaves. Kaoru's emotions, it seems, are more in check than are Hikaru's, but his hands are shaking.
Mori- well, he's calmer. But hardly. I've never seen that sort of look in his eyes before- that degree of fear. He keeps shaking his head, looking down, disbelief in his eyes as he calls the authorities, informing them of what has happened here today. That should have been my job, but…
Honey clutches his Usa-chan close to his heart. He backs away slowly, shaking his head over and over again. Then he runs away. But he'll be back, I know. He's getting Kuma-chan for Tamaki.
Haruhi's face is white. She's on her knees, beside his broken body. She can't do anything but try to stop the bleeding, her trembling hands pressing her school blazer against his shoulder.
"Senpai, S-s-senpai…"
That's all that she can say, it seems, as large tears roll down her face. She doesn't seem embarrassed by this show of emotion. So different from her usual state. Normally, I'd be intrigued, but right now…
Right now, I'm holding him in my arms.
He needs physical comfort, and no one gives it to him. Least of all me, the third son of the Ootori family, who never received such love, and never desired it.
He is different- to him, the power of touch is healing, and, as I attempt to staunch the flow of blood from his abdomen, I go against my true nature, holding him tightly, securely, so that he won't slip away.
His eyes dart from side to side in a panic, then close softly. Then they open again, and the cycle repeats. He wants to make sure that everyone is alright.
"Tamaki, you idiot." I can't say anything more than that, but he can read my face.
"I… I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I… didn't mean to make you upset… Kyoya."
Then his eyes flutter open again. "Haruhi…?"
"Right here, Senpai…" Haruhi whispers. She takes his hand.
Tamaki visibly relaxes as she strokes his knuckles. "I-I'm so glad you're..."
He starts coughing. Horrible, wracking coughs. Blood flecks his lips, and Haruhi chokes back a sob.
"I… I might die, Kyoya."
"They're coming for you, Tamaki. Mori-senpai has called the police and the ambulance. You'll be perfectly fine."
I sound as matter-of-fact as always- or, at least, I hope that I do.
He nods weakly, sending a timid smile up towards Haruhi and I. His face is growing whiter every second.
Then, his eyes stare into mine- past mine, it seems, and he says, very distinctly-
"Maman."
He shudders, and, suddenly, goes very still.
My eyes meet Haruhi's, and we both stop breathing.
Just like him.
Thank you for reading! This is my first Ouran story- I've only gotten into the series recently. There is a sad dearth of Tamaki tragedy/angst/hurt/comfort out there, and I'm hoping to mend that. There will be three chapters in this story, from the POVs of Kyoya, Hikaru, and Haruhi, respectively. No pairings are intended, other than a little TamaHaru(which I can't resist putting in). Reviews and concrit are greatly appreciated. Thanks again!
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