*Shoots self several times and lets readers and reveiwers take a turn for free* I. Am. A. HORRIBAL. Person. When was the last time I updated this? Five, SIX months ago? I am a failure at life and you have all premission to virtually shoot me down or beat me to death with a rubber duckie... My excuse? Well... There's quite a few excuses, but I know they're not reasonable ones at all... SHOOT ME! Oh well... I give you this crappy excuse for a chapter. Please at least try to enjoy.

The rain shot it's way down from the twisted skies above, dancing a dance of darkness and grife. Six cold black limo doors closed as each Host stormed towards the church, a grim expression on each of their faces. They hadn't talked since the inncident at school. It was a forbidden topic that had been silently promised to never be spoken of. They all walked inside, not taking notice of the other till they were all seated next to each other, preparing themselves for the hardest moment of all.

The Goodbye.

oOoOoOoOo

"Tamaki Souh. Words can't describe the way that boy acted, lived, and changed each and every life he came into contact with." Haruhi stopped as her breath hitched, wiping the tears that fell from her eyes. She looked down at the paper in her hands, just seeing words. But Tamaki, to her, meant more then to a few measly words. He deserved more then that, he deserved to be alive right now. She gripped the paper tighter in her hands, keeping her eyes closed. She couldn't stand to look at any of the people in front of her. Keeping her eyes down, she continued the flimsey speech, almost spitting vemon in her voice.

"He was an idiot, I can tell you that much. But... There was something special about him. Maybe it was the way he was able to touch people's hearts with simple words, or the way he could even make Mori laugh from time to time." Everyone let a dry giggle escape their lips. She looked up at the Host Club, staring into each set of eyes till she fell one set short. They were Tamaki's. His death had happened only days ago, and already they were preparing to bury him six feet under. It just didn't seem right to her. It also didn't seem right she was reading words she had to pratice to recite at her best friend's funeral.

"Funeral..." It rolled off her toung in a whisper, stinging it like poison. Tears stung at her eyes and she let go of the paper, watching it fall to the ground. She looked up at everyone, letting the words come freely. Like she knew he would've wanted.

"Tamaki. He was my best friend. Actually, he was more then that... He was my first love... He taught me something that I would've never learned if it weren't for that one day in the club room. He taught me that, even though rich people have the money to buy everything in the world, it doesn't mean they can get it... What I'm trying to say is... Tamaki was selfless enough to give up his happiness to leave his own mother, just so his grandmother wouldn't... It's better if I didn't get into the details of that. But even now, he had all the money in the world, but he couldn't spend a penny to get back to the one thing he wanted more than anything in this world." She took a small breath, before continuing.

"But the amazing thing is, he never complained about it. The longing to hear his mother voice, to have her hug him and tell him it's alright. It's something everyone wants, no matter how old. But he never bothered anyone with his problems. That's something I will forever admire about him. But the worst part is... He never got to say goodbye to her.."

Haruhi couldn't take it anymore. There wasn't a dry eye in the Church as she finished her speech. Tears flooded down her cheeks, splashing onto the piece of paper at her feet. She gave a quick glance at the coffin to the left of her, frowning at it. It was opened with pictures of the Host club scattered across it. White flowers cover the bottom, a red one in the middle. Six roses lay in a bouquet in his hands, each one the color of each Host's rose, laid in his hands. It truly amazed her how well the doctors had sewn him back up again. But they could never mend her broken heart.

She quietly took her seat in the front row between the twins. They both cast a quick glance at her then looked on as the preacher came up, wiping the tears from his eyes. He started to drone on about how he well be welcomed in heaven with opened arms and all that stuff, but not a single member was listening. They simply stared, the comfort that the minister was falsly giving completly ignored. There line of sight drifted everywhere, as if in a daze. Haruhi was the first to finally ease into the reality of life. That it actually happened. He was actually dead.

She knew the reason, she knew why. She had seen the notes. There they were, in plain sight, and her curiosity got the better of her. But the thing was, she thought nothing more of them, regarded them as a prank from the twins. Anyone. There was something about the notes, though, that frightened her greatly. The fragrence. It smelled so sickenly familiar, that she could just place-

"Haruhi... Haruhi!" The doe eyed brunette slithered her eyes into the line of vision that the raven haired teen was in. He stood in front of her, his glasses slightly falling down the bridge of his nose. It surprised her that he hadn't fixed them yet.

"Haruhi.. It's over..." She took hold of his pale hand and allowed him to guide her to the back of the herse. Kyouya slowly stopped, noticing the black vechical was nowhere to be seen. Taking this opportunity of solitude for grantite, he turns and falls to his knees so he's eye level with the young girl.

But yet, his voice makes no effort to produce a sound. Kyouya takes hold of her hands, giving them a little squeeze. Haruhi stares intently into his eyes, making him finally grab the strenth to talk.

"Be careful and watch yourself... My police force are working on finding out what bastard did this... If you need anything, just call." He slowly pushes himself up and walks towards his limo, dragging the dazed girl along with him. Once in, they begin to drive to the graveyard.

"Ok... I will..." She finally answers him after what seems like an eternity. He gives a quick nod before heading out into the rain once more. But as she steps out, something catches her eye. A pumpkin field. It's on the other side of the road, across from the graveyard. Then something Kaoru had said once trespasses into her mind.

"Then one day it'll all turn back into a pumpkin." That's exactly what happened. The family Tamaki created was the pumpkin transformed into a carrige. Now that he's...dead, it turned back into the same crumy pumpkin.

The rain seems to pour down harder on this realization. It's dance picked up once more, only this time, more fierce. She runs the rest of the way up, catching up with Kyouya, then standing still once more, the burial has begun. They all fall into a line, watching as the men each grab a shovel. Once the they break the shovel into the the already dug up dirt, the rain breaks into another dance of despair.

"Why... God why?" His father breaks down as the dirt begins to cover his son's slim prison. The older man tries so hard to control himself, before running off somewhere to be alone. The dance calms itself.

"Mori Senpai... Was there a special reason you were down in the basement the time of Tamaki's death?" It was a innocent question asked by the small girl, but fatel to the rest. Little did she know, word that Mori was last spotted at the scene of Tamaki's death was not released to the public. It hadn't been released to anyone.

As gasps and whispers of shock make their way through the crowd, so do the former Host Club members. They push themselves through, leaving Haruhi behind. It was unlike them, but they knew Haruhi wouldn't move even if they tried to bring her.

"What was that, Ms. Fujioka?" A tall man with broad shoulders bends himself over, giving Haruhi a stern look. She moves herself so nothing but the backs of the retreating teens are in her sight. She just continues to stare, the questioning adults being drowned out by the deftening silence that took over her senses. She starts to walk away, dodging the hands reaching for her. She starts in a slow pace after them, but she gradually turns it into a sprint as she tries to search for the retreating backs.

oOo Hours later: Nightfall oOo

The street lights glow a sickly yellow, casting shadows on all objects that adorned the streets. Including a certain brunette that walked them. The rain still poured, taking up a small waltz around her. Each drop was gentle against her exsposed skin, the coat she once wore abandoned a few blocks back.

"It can't be... He can't be dead... It's not possible..." She stared up at the sky, leaning against one of the jet black poles, catching her breath. Her soaked hair framed her face, matting itself to her cheeks. The black dress she had worn for the funeral stuck to her legs, making it very uncomfortable to move. Not that she cared; nothing mattered anymore. But... Something in the back of her mind was telling her that Tamaki wouldn't want to see you like this. Her doe like orbs glance downwards at herself, examining the damage she's done. Tamaki deffiantly wouldn't want to see me like this.

"There has to be something... Anything... That'll give away who sent those notes." A determinded look crosses her features, the once defeated look now long gone. She tries to focus on that smell; the smell of Tamaki's killer. It was so familiar... So... No... It can't be...

"NonononoNO! Not... Not...No-" It was Mori that interupted her, stepping into the ghostly yellow circle of light she was encased in. But he didn't get a chance to say anything, due to the fact that a shirikun peirced his shoulder and a bag covered Haruhi's head, silencing them both.

oOoOoOo

The rain danced it's silent dance, mixing with the blood that was shed from both bodies. But sadly, neither were dead. But maybe, just maybe, it would be better if both were dead. One's faith would be worse, the other's, much worse.

Disclaimer: Ouran is not mine, is it was, Mori would've wore a dress in episode ten, and Kyouya would have a coffe spiking war with Mori.