Disclaimer: Plain and simple, I don't own Ouran.

So just a little note, this chapter is a brief overview of Sayuki Katsutoshi (aka, the killer) and the Host Club is referred to by the number the Katsutoshi assigned them to die so as a reminder:

1st= Kyouya

2nd= Hunni

3rd=Kaoru

4th=Haruhi

They're the only ones mentioned in this chapter so go on, read the chapter now!

His earliest memories were yelling. His father yelling at his mother, his mother yelling at him, his father yelling at him, both of them yelling at him.

Then his father had left one day, he remember because that was the first time his mother hit him. It was defiantly not the last. But it was the last time he saw his father.

By the time his first year of school was done, his mother had learned that teachers ask questions and to hit him where they couldn't see.

How are things at home Katsutoshi-kun? his first grade teacher asked.

He looked up from his book, of course he knew better by now than to tell the truth, Just fine Miyake-sensei.

She looked at him with scruntiny, "Are you sure?"

He gave her a smile, Yes Miyake-sensei.

She returned the smile, Okay, but you know you can talk to me course. He looked down at his book, wishing with all his heart that Miyake-sensei would find out the truth and save him and take him home and be his mother.

That didn't happen. He went on to the next grade and only saw his former teacher in the halls.

"Hey stupid." a classmate of his called at recess. He was a fourth grader by now, he was small for his age and his hair hung in front of his eyes because his mother didn't cut it. His classmate squatted down in front of him, "Why don't you have any friends stupid? Why don't you talk? Because you can't? Are you that stupid that you can't talk?"

He knew he wasn't stupid, he was just to scared to talk.

"Huh stupid?" he kid flicked him in the head, "Can you talk?"

"Yes." he mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Yes."

His classmate turned back to his group of friends, "The dummy can talk." they laughed at him. "Lets leave him alone, he doesn't deserve our attention." and they walked off.

He clenched his fists, one day he would prove that he wasn't stupid.

Time went by, he got big enough that his mother stopped hitting him, but showered him with verbal abuse. He was a freshman in high school when the thoughts started to grow. He wanted to hurt his mother, she was the cause of all his problems. He wanted to make sure she didn't wake up in the morning.

He started to form a plan for him to kill her by her killing herself.

It was quite simple really, his mother was unobservant when she was drinking so all he had to do was put a bottle of a common household cleaner, that was deadly when ingested, near her and she would think that it was alcohol.

Just one swig and she knew something was wrong. "Ugh! What is this?" she looked at the bottle, "I can't read it, what does it say stupid?" she shoved it in his face.

He clenched his fist, he was not stupid, "Alcohol."

She took another swig, "It doesn't taste like alcohol, maybe you really are stupid. It burns!" she suddenly yelled, clutching at her throat.

He knew that the bleach would cause damage to her body, and if it didn't kill her, she would wish she was. "Good-bye mother." he picked up the bag he had next to him.

"Where. . . going. . .leave. . .no. . ." talking was obviously a struggle for her so he left so she didn't have to talk anymore.

He spent the next twenty years going from job to job, town to town. No one really wanted to hire someone who had quit high school in the middle of his first year, but he managed along. But no matter what job he took, it was never as exhilarating as watching his mother die because of his plan. So once in a while he would find someone, set up a plan and they would die.

It was the most exciting thing he had ever done. Nothing could compare to that.

Twenty years after the first time he killed someone, he found himself working in a small shop in a shopping mall in Tokyo. It was a normal day, he worked as he thought of ways to kill people, but no one seemed worth it. A girl walked passed him, proclaiming to anyone who could hear her about some concept she had called 'moe.' He didn't pay much attention to her, until a magazine of some sort fell out of a bag she was carrying. Picking it up, he saw a group of six handsome men and one girl on the cover. He stuffed it under his shirt and waited until lunch to read it. These boys were lying to the whole school, telling them that this girl was a boy. That was wrong.

That's when it all began.

He started to collect everything he could on these high class boys, information, pictures, anything he could get his hands on. He studied them through what he collected and began to understand each one of them and why they should taste death. This would be his greatest achievement of all time. A chance to prove that he wasn't stupid at all.

It took three months of careful planning and obsessing. His plan was fool proof and now, all he needed was to add some touches just to show it off. 'This will show them.' he thought, 'I am not stupid.'

1st had been easy enough to kill, his one weakness was that he was too confident in his own plans. A loop to the security cameras had allowed him easy access to the Ootori household. 1st other weakness was his low blood pressure, so he wasn't so easy to wake up. It had been easy to pull him out of his bed, set him in the exact position he would fall in, put the gun in his hand and pull the trigger with his own hand. The gun had no serial number to be traced so it was plausible that 1st had gotten it himself.

Pure pleasure to him.

When the maid appeared she had rushed to the young Ootori's side to see if he was alive, and he and slipped out and into a different room to wait until he could easily leave the house.

He had thought that 2nd's death had been easy too, disguising himself as a kitchen helper and injecting the neurotoxin into the fish after it was cooked then disappearing.

But then a little trip to Kyoto and taught him differently. He had been buying some necessary things for the next few deaths when he was passing by a few gossiping old ladies.

"That mansion hasn't been used in two years, but it's suddenly being used again."

"Who owns it anyway?"

Some rich family with a little blonde boy and an older one with glasses. The younger one is quite cute, I saw him a few years ago.

He froze up in anger, they had fooled him? No, that was not possible. But upon looking in on it, he saw that it was true. They would pay for this grave mistake. So he changed tactics and called 3rd.

"Hello?" His voice was a little shaky.

"Do you want this to end?"

"Yes."

"Tokyo Bay Aqua-Line, six o'clock tomorrow morning, alone."

"What happens if I come?"

He smiled, "Your friends will be safe." and he hung up.

Early the next morning, with his face covered, he met 3rd at the bridge. "All you have to do is jump."

3rd looked over the edge, "That's all?"

"Everyone has to be here to see it."

3rd sighed, "Okay." he pulled himself up and sat on the edge of the railing looking out to Bay of Tokyo.

He leaned against the railing, inconspicuously spreading the lotion on the railings, there was no way he was getting down from here, "You really love your friends."

"I do. Why are you doing this?"

He went over to the other side, "I have my reasons. Stand up." 3rd stood up carefully and he finished putting the lotion around his feet. 3rd didn't even notice, "Well have fun." He had a train to Kyoto to catch.

He had to make everything up on the go, there was no well thought out plan for this. There were no cameras in the garden so that he hid out in there for a few hours, waiting to strike. He felt like a tiger, stalking his prey before he went in for the kill. Familiar voices caught his attention. 2nd and 4th were here, no doubt 4th was here for her own protection. He listened to their conversation about 1st being dead. Then 2nd said something that threw him totally off guard, ". . . they'll catch this guy with the hair they found and this will be all over." Pure rage filled his head, act now, think later. He hit the back of 2nd's head then 4th's, and dragged them away.

So in summary, he's an childhood abuse survivor with pshcopathic tendences and dillusions. I love/hated writing this chapter. But I hope you enjoyed. Thanks to these following people for replying!

jas-chanxouran

GodsLilBookWorm

WistyFroeverAndTruly

yumi-chan-likes-chainsaws

Charley Reede

DreamBloodTear

123Aqua123

Eileena Of Idreal

Meganes Ulitimate Fangirl

Then there's this person who didn't even give a name, but I thank you anyway!

Skulduggery Skellington

Yuuna Arashi

Itsukao

luckylyra827

Spider9x

Sorry it took a while longer than the others, the next chapter (might) take longer to get out because my free time has shrunk.

~Cloudy