A/N: I'm sorry for writing OOC, angsty, cheesy, inaccurate yuckiness *sad face* I originally planned to make the story very long, but time did not allow me to, so the tenses and logical sequence is pretty much dead in this story…Also, I'm not a medical expert, so I apologize if I'm posting inaccurate info about leukemia. The subject shall remain vague. Also, I haven't really developed their love, so yeah…I hope you find the story tolerable! From Spark to Flame and Miss Mary Sue enabled me to actually WORK ON THIS FANFIC. They also beta'd some of the story, so it's actually kind of good! GO READ THEIR FANFICS TOO!!!! So thank you!
Edit: I'm bsing it today, because my finals ARE OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Ouran High School Host Club. ________________________________________________________________
His Five Stages
By Larry The Stapler
Intro
In the moment the butterfly flaps its wings, everything can change.
The annoying spring air, caked with allergens, was in a way romantic to those who imagined so. Cherry blossoms fell to create a romantic, fangirl idealistic ambiance and love polluted the air in its vomit inducing ways. You know the rest.
Maybe the most romantic you can get in spring is to be in the lovely ambiance of Ouran High School. The school's vast area consisted of beautiful buildings, lush green grasses, and numerous blossom trees. In spring, the flowers fell magically and turned the school into a soft pink haven. And inside of the school, there was a certain music room that brought forth amusement and brought solace to the hearts of saddened ladies. This music room was the playroom of Ouran's High School Host Club.
Haruhi Fujioka did not hold any desires of finding true love or entering some dull, gushy relationship. She, unlike many teenage girls, had goals she wanted accomplished in her life. She grew up the high commander of her own life, through self sufficiency, somberness, and independence. No one in their right sense could tell her what to do, how to do it, or who she was.
She did not know of love, until unexpectedly, she met Tamaki Suoh and the host club by chance.
It occurred to her slowly when she fell in love. It began with a dull thought, and she found herself enjoying the idiot's presence more and more. The chain of love strapped her to the point that she could not escape anymore. It reached, to the point, where she felt insecure, and awkward around an oblivious Tamaki, ranting on about his familial relationship with Haruhi.
[Bottom line: WASTE YOUR TIME STUDYING AND PROCRASTINATING, NOT FALLING IN LOVE]
But then she was informed that she was dying of leukemia.
Anger
Our characters open the first stage of death, anger, in a very calm music room. [Oh, the IRONY!] Tamaki delicately held a teacup in his hand, drinking a favorite around the school, commoner's coffee. Kyouya sat in a chair next to him typing on his laptop at a very noticeable rate.
"Frick." Kyouya mumbled. A long beep was heard from his silver laptop, not the least weary from its use.
Tamaki let out a long sigh. "It's been a long finals week. I hope everyone's good on vacation."
"Hmm." Kyouya, never, NEVER hmmed. He came off as direct, concise, and decisive. But there was something wrong.
"Tamaki." Kyouya said in a brisk tone.
"What dear mommy?" Tamaki giggled.
"Haruhi. She has cancer." And there it was. Kyouya spilled the truth out with intense coldness and bitterness. There was no sympathy, no emotion. He looked at Tamaki coldly.
"What? Is this a joke? What the hell?" Tamaki began breathing heavily, and to his reaction…
"No. She's dying."
And at that moment, Tamaki took it all in at once. "Why didn't she tell anyone? What's going to happen to her?"
Heavy breathing.
Long sighs.
The teacup cracked and spilled on the clean floor.
Kyouya raised an eyebrow, but he was worried. He agreed with Tamaki at one point. What will happen?
Denial
Dr. Fuyumi was no ordinary doctor. In fact, Fuyumi positioned as Japan's most renowned physician, specializing in diagnostics and oncology. Obviously, she had no time to spare, as many prestige patients requested her aid. Fuyumi walked limped down one of the stairs of Ootori Teaching Medical Hospital to the annual International Medical Convention taking place. She passed the porch of the entrance without needed inspection; they knew her.
In the east wing of the hospital, Tamaki Suoh meandered with purpose; he attempted to find the oncologist who treated Haruhi. He confronted a smiling nurse checking in visitors.
"Ah, excuse me, but do you know how I can locate physician Fuyumi Sakuno?" Tamaki inquired, with out-of-character brevity and curtness in his tone. He straightened his clean dress shirt and tapped on the marble desk. Anxiety filled his mind, and he fought the urge to ignore the situation.
"I believe she's in the convention downstairs. Please wait for a while, the convention will end in two hours, and she'll be in room A202," she coolly responded. The smiling nurse returned to filing papers as Tamaki sat, feeling dejected.
For two hours he sat, staring at the calm robin blue wall facing him, and his face was oddly calm. His lips, however, were dry and his hand trembled slightly, otherwise his composure remained nonchalant.
An elderly doctor smiled at him as she passed by. She wore a white lab coat and a forest green dress beneath and walked with a noticeable speed. Tamaki checked his watch. Noon had arrived, and he knew the time had come.
"Ah, madam, do you know where room A202 is?" Tamaki inquired the elderly doctor with a gentle tap on the shoulder as she walked briskly. She turned with a friendly grin.
"It's right down the hall. Actually, I'm going there myself," the doctor said amicably.
"Are you, by any chance Fuyumi Sakuno?" Tamaki inquired.
"Well, I think I am," the elderly lady replied facetiously. They entered a small office with a vague lemongrass scent. The room presented a cordial, homely feeling, though it consisted of nothing more than a lonely picture frame of a dog in the corner, a small desk, and a broken clock that made it seem rather empty.
"You wanted to speak with me about something?" She gestured for Tamaki to sit down. They both sat down facing each other, youth against elder.
"Yeah," Tamaki replied uncomfortably. "These past days, you've had a patient named Haruhi Fujioka right? Middle class teenage girl with brownish, short hair?" He winced at the awkward description.
"I…" the woman replied vaguely. "I'm sorry, I can't tell you. Doctor-patient confidentiality." A professional tone of briskness replaced her affable personality, and she pretended to busy herself with paperwork.
Quite blatantly, she took her job with a great degree of seriousness. As a physician for over thirty years, she treated patients with proper detachment, understanding the legal importance of mental stability and patient rapports.
She remembered the asserted teenage girl confronting her clearly. Out of all her patients, this girl was emotionally stable, independent and assertive about her situation. Fuyumi was accustomed to observing her patients, having taken a psychology major, and she noticed the girl responding to the news almost oddly. Most patients seemed lost of all hope and faith. Fujioka took it quite rationally. She regressed to why she even specialized in oncology, and it occurred to her that she wanted to help people through the bump in the road, but this time it was on her. She did not know how this patient would go through.
"Well, I can't stop it now. There's nothing left to do but face it." The teenage girl had told her after taking a single breath to hold in the news brought to her.
"Please, please check the diagnosis again."
"I'm sorry." Fuyumi pushed her glasses up.
"What if it's wrong? What if she's not really sick?" There was a hint of whininess in his voice that almost made Fuyumi pity him.
What the hell is this kid doing…Was that girl his girlfriend or something?
"That's not possible. The blood count and symptoms all point to it." Fuyumi mumbled vaguely. "The technology here is also top notch, there could not have been a flaw…"
"Look…" Tamaki began.
"No, you look. Are you unwilling to face the truth? Are you just denying the fact that your friend is dying and there's nothing you can do? Talk to her. Don't avoid the situation with your angsty teenage hormonal crap." The cold, untouched truth shot at him and Tamaki uncomfortably stood towards the door. Fuyumi, as seemingly warm and tentative as she was, felt it right to tell the truth and nothing but the truth no matter how frigid the ringing of her tone became.
Tamaki gave her a long, cold glance after pulling himself back together. "Whatever your reason, I care about her. And even if it's doing something blatantly unlawful, I'll do it. I just want you to rediagnose her again, please. There's a slim possibility that it could be just severe anemia or simply the flu. Just check again if it's really leukemia."
This time he looked at her with weary, anxious eyes. Something else rested in his eyes. It was almost…almost despair.
"Fine, I'll do it. One condition. You will not repeat this conversation to anyone." The doctor's cordial eyes turned a mysterious stealthy and she gripped the empty table.
"Right. Thank you for your help doctor." Tamaki slowly replied. Fuyumi pursed her lips and picked up the phone. Tamaki walked out the office.
"Hello. Is this the Fujioka residence?"
Bargaining
"Suoh..."
Long silence. "Hello?"
"Listen, I called her, and we tested everything again. As much it pains me to say, she has leukemia. I've checked her blood counts, everything. It's definitely not the flu, and worse, it's already acute leukemia. We have to get her started on treatment immediately." There was a hint of regret and sorrow in the doctor's professional voice.
No reply.
And there came an odd moment when the oncologist pondered why she had contacted the teenager instead of the patient first. She definitely felt the tension upon their relationship.
"There's is a treatment, but it's still very experimental. Her insurance won't cover it, and there's a very slim chance that it will work at all. We've all ready started her on CT and radiation therapy... The experimental thing I'm talking about is called stem cell transplantation. The process is very costly, and I remain dubious about it. And the thing is, it's kind of hard to find a decent match.."
"Doctor... please do it." Tamaki replied at last, with great exasperation. His grip on his cell phone grew tighter by the moment.
"I'm sorry, but that's up to the patient to take the treatment. It's very expensive, and perhaps she does not want to take such a risk. Have a good day." She hung up after a nonchalant pause.
***
"Miss Fujioka, there's a possible treatment that I want to discuss with you. It's called a stem cell transplant, or a BMT. We have to find a donor with the same type of marrow as you though, so our first bet is a relative. If not, we can search for others. It'll be hard, but there's a good chance that you would make it. On the con side again, the treatment is extremely pricey and your insurance won't cover it."
"I'll consider it," Haruhi said with ambiguity lingering in her voice. She felt worried. Her father knew, but none of the host club members knew. [Or so she thought.] She didn't want to worry anyone.
Depression
Amongst the crowd of the festival, Tamaki still singled out one person out of the myriad of students. Haruhi Fujioka.
For weeks, he could must the courage to talk to her. For weeks, she held him without touch and took control of his emotions without chains. Why couldn't this feeling go away? The truth ate at his soul, and became his sole weakness. He was losing her, and it was , in a literal sense, effortless.
She wore a simple, elegant white dress, and her hair was longer, though more stringy. Her eyes danced with a brownish fire, though her physical state was fragile, weak. Every step she took made her seem like a fragile porcelain doll, pale and easily breakable. The number of tests and therapies she was put to because of him turned her into this. Was it his fault? Had his pleads caused her more pain? But he was not the cause of her leukemia. Tamaki drowned into a series of internal conflicts.
In essence, it was blatantly clear their last dance brought forth more sadness than a solacing feeling of farewell.
She confronted him. And it was a whisper that she said: "Tamaki, I have leukemia."
"I know."
Oh.
"Haruhi Fujioka...I finally have you. Why do I still feel so... sad?" Tamaki rhetorically asked. There was no need for an answer. They both understood that fate was estranging them, nothing further. It seemed as if the world had vanished and it was only them. The simplicity was obvious. One boy. One girl. Two hearts so close together, but separated by pure cold truth.
But it was at this moment that Haruhi came to the unsettling realization that she, too was in a relationship. The relationship ranked beyond a mere platonic mutual relationship. No, it was indeed an unconditional feeling of love. Unfortunately for both of them, the feeling could not be unrequited.
They both began to wonder if love was merely a lie, a sickening lie used to fool people into doing the oddest things, and if it was worth the risk.
It was. For, even though it created cruelty, depression, and could not buy health or happiness, it allowed them, two very tired and weary lovers to be together at last, in any situation.
And with no words spoken throughout the last sad dance, she finally whispered a single comment.
"Thank you, Tamaki."
There was a match found.
Unfortunately, like many, Haruhi's condition caused her to fall into relapse.
The EKG line went flat.
The doctors did everything they could.
Acceptance
Every now and then, we all feel a ghostly nostalgic breeze creep up to us. It does not detain us from our goals or present. It reminds us of a happier time, but also allows recognition of our present happiness.
Tamaki was passed his teenage years. He was wiser, graver, but most importantly, he no longer missed her. He no longer wished for her, for he knew Haruhi was a part of him, a part of his soul, and their love was like the wind, invisible, but definitely discernable.
Tamaki, if anything, was just an ordinary man. He could not change the weather, bring back lives, or alter the truth and reality that he created.
It assuaged him to understand that Haruhi was set free from the cruelty of living a life not worth living. Suffering in life was inevitable, but not since she stepped beyond the veil dividing life and death.
Tamaki played a slightly nostalgic piece on the piano, and a smile stole his melancholy grim. The doves outside were chirping along with his song, and together, they sang the love story of the sadly ending love story. But it was long ago.
And it all ended with the arrival of the new hour sailing on the wings of an invisible monarch.
Tamaki finally accepted.
AE [Alternate Ending]
We come back to the story of our two lovers, and this time, the butterfly settled the opposite direction.
Haruhi headed towards the grand, intricate exit of Lobelia. The day was calm, and brought a gust of nostalgia and somberness with a light on the fair day. She remembered how she would wistfully gaze out at the clock of Ouran High. Perhaps she should have chosen Ouran; its flamboyance was charming, and it offered many credentials to her goal. She let out a long sigh.
She exited the gates, admitting the nice day. Her mother was in an office, working away. Her father was at home, writing his latest story or so. She missed all of that. Finals week really bummed her out. Growing up, her life has been hunky dory, but something felt empty.
And out of the blue..Haruhi heard a little tune. A lanky blonde boy walking opposite her path nonchalantly whistled and coolly left his hands hanging in his pockets. He looked at the ground while contemplating on who knows what. And there it was. A gust of nostalgia caught her. What was so familiar about this boy…? He looked up, and saw her scrutinizing him. He chuckled and left with a smile.
And on the floor, a single rose was placed.
Conclusion
Most of associate truth with great beauty and danger. While bereavement concludes to nothing more than a natural process, many cannot help but contemplate how things could have turned out. Many believe in fate, but the beauty and inevitable persona of the topic cause much pondering and contemplation. While destinies sometime cross without intersecting, it is better to have loved than to never love at all. Maybe the mystery of fate lies in the fact that it isn't a mystery at all, it sums up from our indirect and direct actions and thoughts. And maybe, both endings, although with appendages of melancholia, ended peacefully with the fate of the characters' actions.
It is painful then, to conclude the story. No matter how bitter all your memories are, there will be a day, with effort, where you can look back and laugh. No matter how painful, it is better to have loved, than never to love at all.
Fine.
A/N: Okay, so I posted, sorry if there were any holes. I didn't edit it because I am a lazy and bad writer. Also, in real life, someone named Stacey contradicts all of the crap in this story. Please read and review, and critique after reading *insert smiley here*