That's right, she was here sleeping that day. She just loves making everybody worry about her, doesn't she. Kyoya thought sarcastically. He let out a slight chuckle as he stepped onto the rooftop garden of the school, recalling her half-asleep careless stare when he woke her up, completely oblivious to the host club's freak out session. This time will be just like the last; she'll be fine. She said she's always fine, he seemed to reassure himself. He didn't like her carelessness. He hated like her obliviousness. And, the mysterious vibe that surrounded her sometimes, especially at those times she would smoke her cigarette silently looking straight ahead at something inexpiable, made him feel uneasy. It was obvious that the host club, despite their time together, had little solid knowledge about her. After all, they were from completely different worlds. For her to leave already would be too soon… too under-entertaining. He sighed, watching the sun set as the winter wind blew past him, causing his chilly hands to bury themselves inside his trouser pockets.
"Shit… Where are you," Hikaru murmured. His footsteps had a restless rhythm as they paced through the classrooms of the campus, leading his body to various doors for his arms to urgently slam open.
Janitorial Closet. He felt as if he opened every door that the campus had to possibly offer to his search. "I'll give it a try I guess," he told himself, sulking at the small possibility the painting would be there. He turned the rusted metal doorknob without any hope. Light from the outside immediately filled the dark closet as he opened the door. Nothing seemed to catch his eye; he proceeded to close the door, until he noticed a scrap of what seemed like canvas near the mop inside the closet. Eyes widening, he picked up the piece of canvas which was colored with various shades of autumn. Another scrap. He rushed over to the second piece, which was much bigger than the first. His fists clenched the scrap involuntarily. He recognized the piece. His eyes widened and he felt his jaw clench with an unusual sort of sorrow, standing in the janitorial closet with nothing but ripped pieces of Yuubi's art. An item in the corner seemed to faintly shift. Alarmed, he quickly reached inside his pocket for his cell phone and pointed the blue tinted light in the direction of the sound.
A student in male attire curled up in the corner and buried her face deep inside her arms that were hugging her knees close to her chest. "Stupid," he muttered as he took a seat next to her, staring at the ground. She looked up at him, guilty that she was caught with wetness on her face.
Her hands quickly wiped down the salty tears as she feigned a smile, "Hikaru, what are you doing here silly?" He didn't answer.
" – That time," he grasped the scrap in his hand. He bit his lip; the scrap was a piece the painting she was making when Kaoru and him snuck up behind her and scared her that one morning. The red marks were covered up by new layers of paint. It finally hit him that they were the reason why she had to start over. "…Why are you in here? Get up."
She laughed a little. Inexplicable tears began to stream down her face. He watched, though he secretly wished to wipe those running tears away for her, but her hands beat his to it. "I don't know why I do such foolish things," she sniffled, quickly rubbing her tears away and attempting to hide them with a smile.
"What happened… ?" His voice seemed to tremble, as he took two steps closer to her. "Why is your painting ripped up," he asked slowly, almost unwilling to her the answer. He kneeled down to try to get on eye level with her and placed a hand on her shoulder, as if he was encouraging her to speak.
She paused, feeling the unexpected gentle warmth radiated from his hand. Still rubbing her tears dry, she answered with an almost inaudible "I don't know".
His eyes widened, "What do you mean… You don't know? You didn't rip it up out of frustration or something," he firmly asked as his grip on her shoulder tightened.
A weak laugh slipped her mouth. "No… Why would I ever do that?" Her eyes quickly shifted from the pieces on floor to his face and back.
He felt a stabbing pain in his chest, as if an arrow had struck him. Who could've done such a thing? His eyes trembled at the sight of her, curled up hopelessly. His arms seemed to reach for her and pull her wet face straight into his chest.
She didn't know how to react at this sudden embrace, "Hikaru…," she asked uneasily. "I didn't think you would worry so much. I'm – "
" – Idiot," he mumbled. His teeth clenched as a slight anger rose within. "Do you even…" He released to face her; his eyes almost seemed to glisten in the closet. "Do you know what it means if you fail?!" There was a pause as he stared angrily at the floor, afraid to face her, afraid to expose himself to her. "It means that you're gone! Everything that you worked for," he cried.
The emotionless female face stared weakly at pieces of her work on the floor, and slowly tried to match them up together, only to realize that many of the pieces were missing, damaged, or wet. The once optimistic scholarship student had met her dead end, already, during her first year at Ouran. She felt a lump of disappointment in her throat; however, the outcome did not surprise her. The entire situation felt nostalgic, almost habitual. It seemed that all good things had a tendency of running from her, and life had its own cruel way of taunting her. The orange haired boy's piercing hazel eyes shifted towards her, impatiently pressing for an answer, praying she had a solution. He figured commoners had quite a talent for fighting through tough situations, but her dark eyes gave no light. As she choked, "well. What am I supposed to do?... Even if I tell him, it's my fault for not keeping it in a safe place..."
His hands became dead weight, as they dropped to his side in disbelief. "Are you giving up now…" he asked anxiously. He stared once again at the pieces assembled on the floor: some missing, some crumpled, some dirtied. And it was true; Ouran's policies were extremely strict, especially towards commoners. Only three commoners attended the school in total, including Haruhi and Yuubi; that was less than 1% of the school. His mind ran rapidly, trying to figure a solution, only to bump into various dead ends. He felt a fire of frustration, as he felt his face burn, staring discouraged at the problem before him. The click of the door broke their air of silence, as light seemed to enter the dark room.