I know it's been written before, but I'VE never written it. So here's my version of the 'Haruhi Gets Attacked By Someone's Angry Boyfriend' theme. It's actually darker than originally intended, but it still gives off the vibe I wanted if you can understand the end.
Haruhi's mind flashed briefly to when she was punched at Nekozawa's private beach.
Of course this hurt about ten times more, she decided.
As the offending fist made contact with her cheek once more her head snapped back into a wall.
Ouch.
Haruhi's eyes closed as the punches and kicks continued, hitting her in the chest, stomach, and once she had fallen to her knees, her back.
"Don't even look at Hitomi again. Unless, that is, you want to bleed even more than you are. And if you tell anyone who did this to you I promise to make next time an extended hospital stay." Haruhi could only listen as the boy's footsteps faded away to her left.
With a loud grunt Haruhi pulled herself to her hands and knees, trying to position her back against the wall.
I'll move again when I can breathe properly.
Haruhi's vision began to refocus as a few seconds went by, and she wiped carefully at her lip with her index finger.
Blood. More than she could hide.
"Haruhi?" Upon seeing Mori walking up the hallway Haruhi made a desperate attempt to stand up, failing when her ankle gave way. Mori watched, and practically flew to her side upon seeing the blood from her lip.
"Tell me what happened." He kneeled down next to her and examined her face like only a caretaker could. He took a mental tally of every injury he could find.
"I can't." Takashi looked up from studying Haruhi's ankle to search her eyes, which turned away from his own.
"You cannot, or you will not?"
Crimson trailed through her hair in torrents. It leaked onto the collar of her jacket.
"Both."
Mori returned to his usually silent self as he grabbed her unharmed hand and helped her to her feet.
"Where are you going to take me?" Haruhi asked as Mori wrapped her arm around his waist and did the same to her, leaning her into his side so she didn't walk on her damaged ankle.
"Kyoya." He said simply.
She stopped him from moving by pulling away and standing on her hurt ankle.
"He'll add it to my debt. He'll add everything." She slumped down against the wall, leaving a trail of blood where her head slid against it. Takashi inwardly cringed at the sight.
"You need a doctor."
"I agree. Just not one of Kyoya's doctors."
"Kyoya's doctors do the best job." Takashi couldn't stop talking. He was too worried about her to keep silent. If she fell asleep she might not wake up.
The blood dripped down the wall at an agonizingly slow pace. Takashi removed his tie and wrapped it around her head, her blood soaking the silken material.
"Would it hurt if I picked you up?"
Blood. Takashi couldn't stand the sight of her blood. It was his fault her blood was exposed.
It ran down the side of her jaw and down her neck.
He felt guilty. More guilty than he had ever felt in his entire life.
Without a response he picked her up and flipped her onto his back, leaving her to curl her arms around his neck when she had the energy.
His worry kept him from walking entirely straight, and he stumbled over his feet and into doors several times before making it all the way to Kyoya in the third music room.
"Kyoya, doctor."
Her blood was pooling on his shoulder, the small current from her lip gradually slowing.
It hurt him to see her blood. Guilt stabbed at his heart from all directions.
By the time the doctor had arrived Hunny had returned from his own search for Haruhi and been filled in on what happened.
Blood was on the chair where he had placed her.
"It's not your fault." Hunny said. He was about to jump onto Mori's shoulders when Haruhi's blob of crimson stain met his eyes.
Blood was on his clothes.
Mori made his way down the hall to where they were treating Haruhi in the nurses office, following the trail of crimson only he could see.
Blood was on the walls and floors.
They had wrapped her up like a mummy, and Mori had never left. He had stayed at the school by her side well into the evening, trying to wash her blood off of his hands.
Blood was on his hands.
"It's not your fault, Mori-senpai."
Blood was in his vision.
"If I had been a minute earlier-
"It's not your fault, Takashi."
The blood was gone.
Yeah. So that one was probably the darkest I've ever written, and I exaggerated Mori's pessimism to the point where it's almost psychosis. I hope you all get the metaphor. I thought it was wonderful.
