Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters...sadly...sighs. But what kind of person would write fanfic about their own characters??

Soledad

It's a keeping for the lonely

Since the day that you were gone

Ootori Kyouya sat in his office poring over an insane amount of documents stacked on his table. His mind started to wander as his gaze shifted to the calendar. 21st April, the very same day he had confessed his love to Haruhi, and she accepted it.

Does she remember? Or has she forgotten me completely? He shook his head to clear it. No, now's not the time for this. I have more important things to do. He leafed through several files, signed some documents and made a few calls to clients before his thoughts wandered to Fujioka Haruhi once more.

She probably still hates me now. Kyouya thought, running his slender fingers through his jet-black hair. But I had to leave her. She doesn't have to see the darkness in the world I live in. She deserves better. Leaning back on his chair, he took a deep breath as memories of the past assaulted him.

He remembered their first kiss. He remembered the vacations they had together. He remembered the antics of the Host Club that they both joined. He remembered the day he had left. Biting his lip, he kicked that thought out of his mind.

That day had been the worse by far. He'd told her that he wanted to cancel the engagement, but not the reasons. Then he hopped on a plane to Spain. His father wanted Haruhi to be his bride because she would be a great lawyer, and it would have merits to have a lawyer in the family. His father wanted his merits. Kyouya wanted Haruhi to be happy. This world—his world—would throw all the injustice of it at her, showing its wealthy but cruel side of the 'rich bastards' as she called them.

If only you could see the tears in the world you left behind. Kyouya sighed and removed his glasses, closing his eyes for a moment. The image of Fujioka Haruhi floated into his mind subconsciously. Even when I close my eyes there's an image of your face. Once again, he came to realize she was a loss he could never replace.

His father had fixed him up with many girls before, none of which could understand him as well as Fujioka Haruhi did. None of them could really stand him at all, actually. His tongue had grown sharper after all these years, unwilling to let his guard down in front of anyone, unwilling to let anyone delve further into his life than Haruhi did. I had to let you go because I loved you. Yet she would never know that fact. Kyouya felt it easier for him to let go if she did not know the truth behind it. Cause I can't still the voice inside of me that is calling out your name…

Soledad. It was one of first few Spanish words he learnt after arriving there. He had gone into a restaurant for lunch, and the song had played. It meant solitude, what he had been feeling then, the feeling of being lost, the fear of being forgotten. He'd sat there for a long time, unable to force anything but coffee down his dry throat. For the first time, he had felt that whoever said that there was silver lining behind every black cloud was hallucinating. What's so good about this? Feeling what it's like to be back on square one? Feeling what's it's like to be alone again? Feeling like the world's an empty space I'm lost in?

Kyouya took a sip of his tea his secretary had brought in a while ago. It was cold, but he needed something to take his mind of Fujioka Haruhi. He was distracted, gaze always fluttering to the phone. It would be nice to have a meal with her…

There was a knock on the door. Shaking his head to clear it, Kyouya said, "Come in." It was his secretary, who wanted to remind him of the meeting he had to attend later on. "I've got it. You may leave." A voice in his mind was telling him to leave immediately to Fujioka Haruhi's side—he'd never felt like he wanted to see her so much before. Closing his eyes, he stood up, catching the attention of his secretary who was about to leave.

"Hang on," he said softly. "Cancel all my appointments for today. Tell them I'm sorry and that I have something important to do." His secretary was stunned for a moment—Kyouya never left his work unattended before. She watched quietly as Ootori Kyouya removed his coat from the coat rack. "Sorry to bother you." He had felt the gaze on him. "Inform my chauffeur not to pick me up later on. I'll get around on my own." He left the building.

He took a cab to Haruhi's workplace, an address he had memorized by heart but never dared to go to since that day. He entered the building slowly, taking in his surroundings. Things have changed around here. Kyouya took the lift to the sixth floor—the floor where Haruhi was at that moment. It's been two years since I came here last.

He had noted the different receptionist at the counter. Kyouya went up to her and murmured, "I'm looking for Fujioka Haruhi." She was stunned at his charming looks that had made girls faint years ago at the Ouran Academy when he was a host in the Host Club. It had been a long time past.

"She's in a meeting presently," she answered politely. "I'll inform her of your presence. May I have your name please?" Kyouya bit his lip and shook his head.

"She won't see me if you tell her I'm here. Tell her to come out instead," he replied quietly. "Sorry if I have caused you any inconvenience." She nodded and picked up the phone.

"Please have a seat while I contact her secretary," the blonde said, gesturing to the sofa set nearby. Kyouya settled down on the soft couch and waited patiently.

"We'll do our best, Mr. Kitachin. You'll be satisfied with our results surely," a familiar voice traveled to his ears. It was Haruhi showing a middle-aged man out the door. "Thank you for trusting us." The man did not say anything, but inclined his head and left. She has grown her hair out. She's more beautiful now…No, she's always been beautiful.

"Fujioka-san, you have a guest," the receptionist stood up and signaled to the dark-haired man waiting. Haruhi whipped around to see Ootori Kyouya. Her eyes widened and abruptly turned to her receptionist.

"Send him out immediately. I don't want to see him," she said sharply, turning to leave again. Does she hate me so much?

"I just thought it would be nice to have dinner with you today," Kyouya said softly. "You know, to talk about old stuff—"

"I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Ootori," she cut in, throwing the name at him as if it was an insult. "I believe we have nothing else to do with each other since two years ago." The girl at the counter was startled at the anger in her eyes, rarely seen due to her capability of keeping composure.

"Haruhi—"

"It's Ms. Fujioka to you," she snapped. "And I believe I've made myself clear enough for you to understand."

"I just wanted a meal with you," he said quietly. "For old times' sake. But if it poses an inconvenience to you, I'll come another day. I hope you'll agree to my request then." Haruhi glared at him. If looks could kill, Ootori Kyouya was dead meat.

"I never want to see you ever again, Mr. Ootori, if that spells it explicitly enough to enter your thick skull," she spat. He expects me to forgive him? After that? After so many nights of crying and being alone and confused? He expects me to forgive him?

"I'm sorry," he said. Haruhi was astonished at the sudden burst from him. Ootori Kyouya never apologized to anyone.