Un Mauvais Reve, Ouran High School Host Club fanfic

larrythestapler

A/N: Writing getting lazier. References to Scrubs. I do not OWN the song "Guy Love." I also have no ownership towards Scrubs (American TV Show) or Ouran High School Host Club (Funimation).

The echoes of Kyouya's words resonated in her ears over and over again. Brain dead. She could not believe, that without contact for over five years, Tamaki went ahead and died.

She quietly rode in the car as Kyouya filled the empty silence with small talk. It failed to assuage any feeling of remorse and sadness. After a long car ride, they arrived at a hospital. Haruhi was surprised to see her old colleagues there; it seemed they were all different from years since she last saw them. The twins were more serious, dressed in business suits of remarkable difference. They stood near Tamaki's emotionless face, gently touching his hospital bed.

"Senpai, you were an idiot. But you were great. Without you, Hikaru and I would not have opened up or gotten to this point." Kaoru whispered, with a serious look filling his face. His flamboyant, unruly red hair now dropped on his head with a flatness, ungelled and unspiked. Hikaru danced his fingers on Tamaki's pale cheeks, and finished his brothers melancholic words with a simple:

"Goodbye, Tamaki."

****************

"Oh NO, HE DIDN'T. Did he just TOUCH MY FACE? HIS GREASY, DIRTY HANDS, TOUCHED MY FACE? IF I GET A ZIT, I'M SUING." Tamaki screamed with a distressed look on his face. He placed his pale fingers onto his perfect, unwrinkled forehead, as Haruhi jumped with shock.

"Senpai? You're supposed to be brain dead!" she screamed.

"Oh, please, girl, I'm so alive I'm burning up more than a preteen JBF."

"JBF?" Haruhi said, bemused. She stared at the figure next to her, and the one on the bed. Braindead Tamaki looked the same, but his eyes, his eyes were closed and closed the gates of liveliness. The young man next to her stared at her with brilliant sapphire-violet eyes. She merely gaped at him.

"Jonas. Brothers. Fan." Tamaki said discordantly, to sharpen his point. "You have pretty hair," he said, putting his fist to his chin with a dazzled glance.

"Shut up." Haruhi twirled her long, straight chestnut-colored hair as Tamaki started singing popular tunes from Moulin Rouge! He danced around her in circles, singing his heart out, and taunting the sanctity of her sanity. Still, even though he was brain dead, he was still annoying. Had she gone mad? She stared at the lifeless body in front of her.

"Yoo hoo, I'm over here," a dancing Tamaki exclaimed. "HARU-HEEEEEE. Why have you forsaken me again?" Tamaki cried as he entered a spiral near the corner of the waiting room.

"Who are you?" Tamaki immediately rose from his spiral and jumped upwards, swishing his golden hair back, with a complacent smirk on his face.

"I'm Tamaki. And you're Haruhi Fujioka."

"I don't understand." Haruhi Fujioka, was pygmied at last. She failed to comply to creativity and stayed with logic and fact.

"You're soooo narrow-minded."

"Whatever. Just leave, okay? You're not helping the fact that I just lost a really good friend." Haruhi mumbled. Law school. College. Those concepts stole humanity out of her. She became cold, meticulous, brainless, and least pleasantly, inhumane. She lost the courage of hope and the strength of sympathy. All she had were her ice cold facts, not making time for acquaintances or loved ones.

"A really good friend?" Mirage Tamaki's eyes softened.

"Yeah." Haruhi said quietly.

"Well, I'm not dead yet, I'm over here." Haruhi let out a long sigh, and pulled out her laptop. Summer assignments were in, and she decided to get a head start. Distracted, she found mirage Tamaki not there anymore, but instead saw Kyouya entering the dull gray room. The girl gave a sigh of relief.

"BOOGAH BOOGAH BOOGAH!!!" Haruhi screamed, and found Tamaki's presence next to her once more. "Scared you didn't I?" Tamaki smirked. Haruhi blushed angrily with a scowl on her face, as a wilting Tamaki apologized, tears in the shape of ramen streaming down his face. Haruhi smiled. assuaging his troubles. Still, it was quite a perturbance for her to smile.

"Please. For. Give. Me."

She honestly liked Tamaki. In high school, his pranks never extended so far to the point of offense. He always enjoyed helping other people, getting so absorbed that he would often risk his own reputation. He respected her, teased her, but she was aware of the tension between them.

People often gossiped about them hooking up, and Tamaki's face would flush red. The brunette knew him better, than that; his kindness often breached his impulses. Sure, Tamaki had charm and wits, but he knew his place and gave her no more than a slightly disturbing kiss on the forehead, overcompensating that it was a father's presentation of love.

"Why aren't you out there?" Tamaki whispered. "It's such a nice day! The trees are wavering, the sun is bright, and little birds are singing." He opened his arms toward the real Tamaki's room window with an idiotic, ecstatic sentiment pasted on his face.

"Oh my gosh. DID KYOUYA JUST HOLD MY HAND? MOMMY HAS FINALLY SHOWN ME LOVE." The blond screamed as his cheeks reddened with joy. "IT'S GUY LOVE, THAT'S ALL IT IS, IT'S GUY LOVEE MINE AND HIS. THERE'S NOTHING--"

Haruhi returned to her laptop with a sigh. This is going to be long.

She watched Kyouya leave the room with a solemn face and tear-stained cheek. The hand-holding, crying...these things, it was as if they had switched roles. Haruhi continued typing on her laptop, cold and withdrawn from the situation.

A/N: Meh, my writing got lazier, but I PROMISE, I will improve the next chapter where Haruhi finally accepts.

POLL: Kyouya is hotter with/without glasses?