YAY! It's our tenth chapter! Upon repeatedly listening to the Ouran High School Host Club opening, I finally got the incentive to actually write something. And siiigh, this is the chapter where the TamaHaru starts falling apart. ;~; I love TamaHaru, too… /sob/
Anyway, as a celebration for the tenth chapter, I put up a quote! WHEEEE!
Also, warning, there's some profanity in this chapter.
"If ever your will starts crashing down
Whenever your will starts crashing down
If ever your will starts crashing down
That's when you'll find me
Lost 'till you're found
Swim 'till you drown
Know that we all fall down
Love 'till you hate
Jump 'til you break
Know that we all fall down"
- "All Fall Down", OneRepublic
"Haruhi…? Sweetie? Let Daddy come in."
"Go away, Dad. I don't want to talk." The tenseness at the base of Haruhi's throat grew tight and solid, and she felt as though the inside of her nasal cavity was slowly expanding, it stung slightly as she felt her eyes tear up.
"Come on, dear." Ranka mumbled timidly through the door."N-no!" Haruhi wailed suddenly, her face buried in her pillow. "G-go away, Dad!"
"…Haruhi…"
"GO AWAY!" Haruhi screeched, immediately feeling the repercussions on her vocal chords as tears streamed down her face, splashing onto the pillow clutched tightly to her chest.
She heard a loud sigh and then what sounded like a quiet mumble and feet dragging as he moved away from the door, "… I'll go make some tea…"
After several minutes of hearing and being aware of nothing but her own sobs and the roughness of the fabric of the pillow against her face, Haruhi glanced up, her chest vibrating as she exhaled and held back her own tears, unsteadily reaching a foot off the bed and taking a couple of tentative steps forward. She unlocked her door and pressed her ear to it quietly, listening for her father, but there was no sound.
As inconspicuously as possible for the teenager, Haruhi pressed down on the handle and felt the thin fabric of her socks wear down slightly when she stepped onto the seemingly frigid tiles, stepping forward slowly and careful not to slide as she peeped around the corner. "D-dad?" She murmured softly. No doubt that her eyes were bloodshot and swollen.
She spotted Ranka, seated mutely on the couch, his legs folded underneath him as he held a cup of tea that was trembling even more than his hand was.
He looked over his shoulder after stared at Haruhi after a moment, and his eyes went wide.
Haruhi slid further into view, edging into the living room. "I, uh, sorry, Dad. I… Hikaru.. And… I… Tamaki has… I… Kyouya was…"
She felt atrocious. Why the hell was she a bitch to everyone? She'd been such an idiot to Hikaru. She hoped he wasn't in heaven and that's all he remembered. Whatever. She was going to Hell anyway.
"I'm such a BITCH!" Haruhi wailed suddenly, flinging her torso and head into her father's lap. "I'm sorry, dad." She mumbled tearfully. "I miss him so much right now." She said, her voice unsteady and strained as she held back tears. "All Tamaki's ever done for me is be… great. He's only ever been the prince charming I've ever wanted, and I've never been able to fucking appreciate it!" Haruhi howled, her entire body shaking as Ranka kissed the top of her head. "Shh." He murmured.
"And all you've- All you- All you've ever done is been a great dad and all I can do is yell at you, too!" Haruhi wailed, tears dripping from her face to the couch. "I told Hikaru he was an idiot! That's the last goddamn thing I said to the goddamn rich bastard!" She shrieked, sitting up.
"He's probably laughing at me right now! These goddamn rich bastards! I should have never met any of them!" Haruhi screamed, Ranka curling her closer to him."I hate them all…" She whimpered.
The cashier eyed him awkwardly as he scanned the bottle.
Kyouya narrowed his eyes at the man.
"May I see your ID, sir?""I'm the oldest Ootori son, do you not know who I am?" Kyouya growled, snatching the bottle of vodka, concealed in a brown paper bag. "I'm well over twenty-one." He hissed out his lie as he took a gargantuan swig of it, right in front of the guy. It stung. He felt his eyes begin to water.
The older guy, a messy mop of curly brown hair on him, seemed shocked. "Oh, my apologies, Ootori-sama."
"I thought so. You're just like that dumbass bitch friend of mine." Kyouya jammed a finger in the fat man's chest, and the man took a tentative step backwards. "Haruhi Fujioka." He hissed out. "I used to love that bitch. Now she just hates me. It's like she's afraid of me, y'know? You're just as stupid as her."
Up until that point, Kyouya had been taking quick, small, pissed off steps toward the man. "It really pisses me off. The goddamn poor peasant commoners! It's people like you," Kyouya spat. "That piss me off!"He watched a drop of sweat roll down the man's forehead."Heh." Kyouya chuckled, stepping back, resting the outward facing side of his wrist on his hip and taking another swig of vodka, this drink was much less painful than the first.
"Si- O-Ootori-sama, I think you've had a little much to drink."
"Pft, me? Nahhhh." Kyouya growled, narrowing his eyes and staring at the man, walking out the door with the bottle, still covered in the paper bag, to his lips and taking a satisfying gulp as he stumbled out of the automatic doors, the frigid wind stinging his face as he swaggered toward the limo, swinging into the back, and, with his head spinning, he mumbled, words slurred, "Drive."
"Kyouya-sa-"
"I said DRIVE, you DUMBASS! DRIVE!" Kyouya hissed in the driver's ear, who slammed his foot on the gas as Kyouya leaned back into the dark leather seat, sinking into the soft bliss even further as the lines blurred in front of him.
It'd be a nice time to lay down right now. He stretched himself out on the seat, yawning abruptly and settling into a darkness even blacker than the night itself.
Bus burn pus blust bust bias biased bland blazer blaze blace lace blaze bland blace blac… black!
Black
Rant ranka rim rent wrong romp rom… room!
Black room.
This. Is. A. black. room.
It. Is. dark.
Where. Am. I?
Words formed slowly in his mind, the string of words, like vague impressions on the memory, carbon copies, and trying to make out what they said, but it took a lot of guesses. But there was always more work to do. When he had a word, that was only part of a thought.
It was like trying to move through a thick, jell-o-like substance with some kind of odd force on his body, like it was slowly swirling around him in a pudding tornado that he was in the eye of.
Then he heard something. What did he hear?
What was hearing? There was something different about the room… What was he thinking of?
For some reason, it was like he couldn't control his thoughts any more.
Like someone else was saying something. But it sounded… distant. He couldn't make it out.
But then something else changed. It was like someone else was thinking a really long, constant, loud noise…
What was it? Why would he ever think such a thing?
Where was he again?
The last thing he heard was what he seemed to automatically identify as a gagging noise and then some kind of yelling outside.
Then it kind of faded away, and all he really cared about was seeping into this blissful thing that had taken control of him, falling into the thought, that constant thought, the loud thought, and everything else kind of faded away… He got a sudden image of pink flower petals floating in a breeze, cherry blossoms… How nice…
Maybe… He should be…. Like those flower petals… And lose himself… In that thought… The long… one… that just kept floating on… And he could bounce and move with it… So he could give up… and disappear… into… that long… peaceful… sleepy…..quiet… rest… bliss… and he…. Could… be…
Like…
Petals…
In…
The…
….wind.
Okay, now I'm REALLY TEMPTED to change the title to "Like Petals in the Wind" and I really wanna make a new fan fiction and name it "The Scarlet Kingsnake" for some reason. TT_TT
So should I change the title to "Like Petals in the Wind" or keep it "Strawberry Blonde"? Also, I'll be starting a new Invader Zim fic soon…
=D
-Rem