A/N: Dear Readers, this is my second Kasanoda x Haruhi fanfic. I found that Kasanoda's a character worth exploring. I mean who wouldn't want to write something about this guy. We only saw him as a blundering third wheeler. In fact, he has a great personality depth in him that kept bugging me to write about him. There's more to him than meets the eye. This is a one-shot with a subjective ending. Post Ouran, slightly OOC, different scenario. I recommend readers to read my first Kasa/Haru fanfic titled, 'Her Protector.' If you read that piece of fanfic you'll be able to follow this story better. As always, thank you for reviewing and I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

Ritsu Kasanoda glanced at the beautiful, naked woman sleeping on the bed. He rose from the bed with not a stitch on his body. He stopped in front of the full-length mirror and stared at his reflection. His body, while muscular had scars, each scar had a story. The stories weren't good at all just as the scars on his body presented a grotesque image of a man with dark secrets, darker personality, and darkest profession that had tainted his soul. Had he even a soul? He would think not.

He glanced away from the image, his eyes settled on a robe on the floor with the other clothes, grabbing it and putting it on. He sat on a long stool over the mini bar overlooking the wide window, with a beer can in his hand. It was raining outside. The dark skies and occasional lightning cracking the skies and thunderous clapping made the woman on the bed groan and hands groping for a warm body. When she found none, she went under the fluffy, quilt. His eyes shifted back to the rainy and dark atmosphere outside.

It was just like his world. It was a bleak, grayish, and dark world. It was filled with danger, blood, death, and secrets, even sorrow. Once in it you could never get out. Especially when you were the lord and master of one of two powerful clans in the underworld society. You were out permanently when you were in a body bag. Downing the beer to the last drop, he remembered his late father's aide and still his mentor urging him to marry.

Marry… How could he possibly marry? The life he could offer his would be bride would be a life of uncertainty and emptiness. No doubt his would be bride would come from one of many 'families' allied to his. She would be taught the principles and norms of the underworld. She would be prepared for the role as wife of a crime lord. It wasn't an easy task and path for women born in these 'families.' They couldn't expect more from their husbands but must be the ones to give more and uphold the honour of the clan.

No matter the situation, they must be composed. They must be prepared for all casualties and know how to handle them. In a nutshell, they were women who could endure anything. But, through experience, it could lead to dissatisfaction and hatred as the years went by. Women were women. No matter where they were from, they would want something everlasting. It was only natural to yearn for love and to be loved. Yet, it was that very element that he couldn't give.

His reasons were based on his own childhood. His father was busy and most of the times spent outside of the main house. He had a string of mistresses to take care of his urges. He pretty much left his mother to herself. Frustration, depression and anger slowly ate his mother's sanity. As wife, it wasn't an option to leave. Her life was a living hell. She even saw Ritsu as her enemy. She would ignore or avoid him because he resembled his father, in looks and behaviour.

She didn't want to be reminded of the negative aspects in her hopeless life. His parents were cold towards each other. They never shouted or became violent and abusive. It was more of a silent cold war. The air would change every time they were in the same room. It would change to a blizzard. It was hard for anyone present to breathe. Those who weren't strong enough would faint. That was how powerful their resentment toward each other was. He didn't know why they hated each other.

He didn't know how this cold war came about. Neither was he interested to know about his parents. But, it was the effect of their thoughtless conduct he couldn't tolerate. He would normally let out his frustration and anger toward his parent through daily martial arts practices. He would end up beating everyone including the instructor to a pulp. Still, by beating people up he found no relieve in doing it. Having sex and lost his virginity to a beautiful, sexually perverted homeroom teacher at thirteen didn't help either.

He would normally be out of the house before sunrise and would only come back late at night. He spent his days at school when out of it he would crush rival school gangsters or bullies with his demonic look and terrible fighting style. He was tough, and he had trained a lot, but he was one person against so many. Though, he had defeated the opponents, he had suffered injuries to his body. He would crawl into the bushes and leaned against a tree in one of Ouran's secluded smaller gardens.

He didn't mind the pain. It helped him forget his problems at home. He would be good as new if he just slept under the tree for a little while. He felt cool and comfortable. He felt his face damp, and felt light daps on face with something soft. He opened his eyes only to find soft brown eyes peering closer. His eyes grew large in surprise to find Haru-chan, the charming host club member at his side gently wiping the dried blood on his face with her hanky. He knew of her secret and found her extremely attractive.

Not that she was Miss Universe but she radiated a warm and calming beauty born from a pure heart. He was unqualified to be around her. He didn't want to soil her with his tainted self. He tried to sit up, by doing so would put a little distance between him and her. She put a restraining hand on his chest. He was sure his heart was beating wildly at her touch. There was a small fountain where she would wet her hanky and cleaned his wounds on his chapped knuckles and callous hands.

"I'm alright," He assured her, "Really." He retracted his hand from hers.

She looked at him with doubt etched in her eyes. "You don't look it."

He gulped as she wiped the dried blood on his throat to his collarbone. It felt very intimate to him. He jerked his body away. She ceased nursing him.

"What would you like to do when you're alone?" She suddenly asked out of the blue.

He could only stare incredulously at her. What was she up to now? She didn't have to extend her hosting attributes outside the third floor music room. Why would she do it now? He did nothing when he was alone. What could he possibly do? To beat anger, he had done a lot of damage to properties and injuring people (deserving ones). To beat frustration, he had sex. What did he do to beat loneliness? His mind went blank. He couldn't think of anything. How could she possibly know that?

He was indeed lonely and desperate for company. He went to the host club to relieve it. But, it was only for an hour. It was like visiting a shrink. The only difference was it was fun. Thinking of her question, what could he do when he was lonely? How should he deal with loneliness? He thought of green grass, green plants, and flowers. He always thought they calmed his frayed nerves. They made him happy. Once when he was around ten, he planted a seedling at the backyard. It grew healthily.

The gardener smiled, "You've green fingers, Waka-sama."

He looked at his fingers then glared at the gardener, "My fingers aren't green!" He didn't know what it meant at the time because before the gardener could explain to him what it was, he had already stomped out of the yard, miffed at the gardener.

"I see you've found something that you can do when you're alone." She smiled and stood up while brushing the dirt and dried leaves from her black Ouran pants. "May I know what it is?"

He snapped from his reverie and gazed at her through swollen lids, "Gardening."

She nodded and slipped both hands into her pants pockets. "I think you're alright now." She walked towards the cobbled path to Ouran's second block, heading towards the school's library.

He sighed at the cherished memory of a bosom buddy named Haru-chan. He took up gardening and was good at it. He even had a little plot at the main house dedicated to Haru-chan. The title of his plot was sappy – 'Sweetheart'. It wasn't manly. But he didn't care. She was everything that he ever wanted in a woman. She was the only woman for him. She read him like an open book. The only one to know what was in his heart and first to make him realise what was in his heart.

She didn't need to go into specifics. All she needed to do was urge him to make good of what was in his heart into reality. He wanted her for himself. Only her. How could he possibly marry anyone? When she was all that he could think of. He couldn't give anyone his heart. His heart belonged to her. He loved her but at the thought of ending up like his parents or the fact that they lived in separate worlds made him look at things rationally. It was for the best.

Ding Dong!

He glanced at the wall clock for the time. It was 7am. Who in hell was that? He frowned as he slowly approached the door. He grabbed a .44 Magnum that was on the dressing table, he called from a far, "Who is it?"

"I'm sorry, sir." Came an apologetic reply, "I'm the front desk senior assistant. There's a package from UPS."

He switched the gun from his right hand to his left and opened the doorknob with his right. The senior assistant looked shocked at this frightening occupant's unkempt condition and scary face. His eyes grew as round as saucers in fear. The senior assistant's hands holding the package trembled as he gave the medium sized square box to this monster standing in front of him. No wonder he's the top two crime bosses in Japan. But, why was he receiving it alone? There should be a posse of his henchmen around. Where were they?

"Anything else?" Countered someone behind him.

He blanched, turning around he saw a burly, mean looking man in black suit with a hand on shining katana. By his side were five more men with guns at hand. The senior assistant's yelped in panicked fear and quickly ran away from their intimidating stances.

"It might be a bomb inside that package, waka-sama." The burly man looked concern. His apprehension apparent by the way he gritted his teeth.

Kasanoda shook his head, "No, it's not." He gestured them to enter his domain.

The penthouse was one of two on top of the hotel, which he partly owned. The other owner was someone he knew as a shrewd business genius. The other owner had the other penthouse. Currently, it was empty. The woman was in the master bedroom, which was away from where they were. He set the box on the glass table in the living room. A small dagger was given to him and he slashed the brown industrial tape that was sealing the box. He opened the box's lids and peered inside. He gasped in surprise.

The others peered as well and didn't gasp. They were confused at their master's reaction. It was nothing more than a plant. A Bonsai tree to be exact and was a beautiful specimen of delicate artistry on a plant. There wasn't anything for the master to be surprised about. It was a rare thing to see him this taken aback by something so ordinary. It was more rare to see his features softened even for a moment. It was truly a magnificent sight.

Kasanoda despite what people might say about his terrifying face was actually quite good looking. It was the profession and responsibility toward the profession that made him look unbecoming. Not only that, the constant 'familial' disputes he had to deal, and settle made him into the what he was. It made them wonder, though his face was expressionless yet his eyes held a sort of quiet merriment and gentleness of someone worthy in the eyes of the Bonsai tree sender.

"Leave me," Kasanoda commanded softly. His men nodded and quietly left him as he lifted the tree out the box and placed it on the glass table, a card fell out.

He picked it up from the table. It was a brown card again. He flipped it open and smiled to himself. "I thought you might like to take care of this. I didn't buy it. I found it surviving and thriving all alone on a small hill by the sea and it made me think of you. Mori-senpai helped me since he was familiar with the terrain. But, I spotted it. So, Happy Birthday, Kasa-kun!"

Only she would remember his birthday. Even he had forgotten that today was his birthday. How she knew? She had her ways. But he suspected that it would likely be of a certain shrewd business genius that he and she knew. Indeed his heart belonged only to her and no one else.