Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ What If She'd Been God ❯ One-Shot
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: strangewolfgal 
Is it a deathfic too? Well someone might be dead......
He forgot then he rememebered. A song he can't hear but we can that asks him so much; the moon smiles at him and he cries for the first time.
Anime/Manga: Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama / Angst | Type: Songfic | Uploaded On: 08.19.2009 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 752 | Status: Completed
Is it a deathfic too? Well someone might be dead......
He forgot then he rememebered. A song he can't hear but we can that asks him so much; the moon smiles at him and he cries for the first time.
Anime/Manga: Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama / Angst | Type: Songfic | Uploaded On: 08.19.2009 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 752 | Status: Completed
It was late at night but no one at the party seemed to notice. Among the thralls of family friends, enemies, influential people and servants only there to serve everyone else, the boy stood alone. He should have been happy, that was the feeling he knew he ought to have felt, but as he gave a forced smile to reasonless persons who in turn commented to how amazing he was, how smart he was, how great it was he had gained his right to lead the family, he could only wonder why he was there. How he got there, who had been sacrificed, why he felt so alone. Besides the friendships he had forfeited, hurting the boy with the purple eyes, the child-like genius, the silent but ever-kind elder, the mischevious twins, the commoner who was ever confusing, besides them, who else had been lost; though he tried to remember he couldn't quite get it.
If God had a name
What would it be
And would you call it to his face
If you were faced with him
In all his glory
What would you ask if you had just one question?
"Young master, oh there you are!" he turned and looked at yet another person willing to become close to him just for his new position; once upon a time he remembered being like that too, getting close to people he didn't care about at all, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to care anymore.
Still he once more forced a smile and pushed his glasses up though he rather not see them, "ah hello, Madame."
They spoke so uselessly together till finally she left him alone; he felt like he could no longer take it so bid everyone good night and left his own party. Let them celebrate alone, he thought to himself as he rushed down the silent hallway that led from the ballroom to his room, pulling his tie off as he went; what do I care?
He never could believe that last thought; he didn't care? He didn't want to flaunt his victory over his older brothers? He knew something was terribly wrong with him but couldn't guess what. He'd finally proven he was the best, greater still than his near perfect brothers; so why was it he felt so horrible? Who was it whose voice he kept hearing, laughing like bells in his head, making his great mind think of nothing else? Why?
And yeah, yeah
God he is great
Yeah, yeah
God he is good
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
What if God was one of us?
Just a slob like one of us?
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make his way home
He walked into his room; it was bigger than before and quiet as a grave. He felt a bit more at peace then; he took off his tie completely and removed his jacket, unsure why he felt so hot. He felt he needed to blame the voice that was now so gently speaking his name; it made his mind spin and his heart hurt, like a hand was around it and squeezing real hard.
He unbuttoned his white shirt, feeling his own pale skin under his fingertips but swearing it was someone elses fingers touching him; he almost remembered the name but it disappeared and he was left with nothing. Still with his shirt on but unbuttoned, he moved almost ghost-like towards his balcony, opening glass doors and feeling the cool breeze on him. What exactly had he forgotten that was eating his mind so much? He had to wonder; he closed his eyes and this time saw a face. He knew it though, no confusion; she'd been so precious to him before. But her name, that alone escaped his mind.
If God had a face
What would it look like
And would you wanna see
If seeing meant that you would have to believe
In things like heaven and in Jesus and the saints
And all the prophets
He leaned against the railing, head tilted back just enough to stare up at the moon, the beautiful pale moon that shone so unaccusingly down upon him and everyone and everything. It seemed to know what he was thinking but told him nothing of what he saw in his mind; it knew, he knew it did, but never told.
He remembered her voice whispering his name again, softly into his ear, and envisioned her standing there beside him, her arms around his waist, her lips centimeters from his ear, wearing a long white gown; his heart raced again and he tried to hard to remember her name. Then he might remember why he'd forgotten, why she no longer was there, teasing him with her breath, speaking his name and singing soft songs; where had she gone, the girl he knew would have told him all his reasons for ever wanting to be at that party and overtaking his brothers, the girl who once made his heartbeat skip at her very touch? Why wasn't she there? It made him hurt to try and remember, to force it; he almost cried really because something told him it was all his fault.
And yeah yeah
God he is great
Yeah yeah
God he is good
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
What if God was one of us?
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make his way home
And then it came back to him, his reasons, her name, and his heart cried because it really was his fault; he'd hurt her so harshly.
Trying to make his way home
Back up to heaven all alone
Nobody calling on the phone
except the Pope maybe in Rome
(Instrumental)"Sabrina, I'm sorry." he looked up and behind him back into the room to see two phantoms, shadows of himself and the girl from his memory. She was wearing that flowing white gown and as his shadow self moved towards her, she pulled away, looking down and looking so hurt.
The shadow him stopped after a while, pulling his hands back, "Sabrina, please, say something, anything."
"what do you want me to say, Kyoya?" her voice was like the wind, blowing through him.
"say anything, say you'll forgive me, say you understand...... Say you still love me."
She looked up at the shadow him so painfully then shook her head, "I can't do that; I don't understand so I can't forgive. But I will always love you, really I will, but....."
She turned away from him and the real him could only hold his chest so tight he always broke the skin; he had to turn away as she left and the phantoms disappeared. He looked out over the balcony as all went silent again.
And yeah yeah
God he is great
Yeah yeah
God he is good
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
What if God was one of us?
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make his way home
It looked so far down into his garden below yet it seemed to be calling to him. I hurt her, I deserve to die, I hurt her, what would it matter if I jumped or fell? He had everything but gave up everything else; his best friends, his close friends, his true freedom, his true love.
He took a deep breath, leaning against the railing with closed eyes. A simple movement, a simple swing, a breeze and he'd fall; that's all it would take and for a moment it was all he could think of. That simplicity and ease, almost too easy; he couldn't believe it. He opened his eyes again, stared up at the moon again, and could swear she was saying his name again; he smiled softly.....
Then fell over the edge.
Just trying to make his way home
Like a holy rolling stone
Back up to heaven all alone
Just trying to make his way home
Sabrina Nightshade sat in the Ohtori family's garden, the third son's head on her lap. His glasses were broken and crooked, his usually neat hair a mess and matted slightly with blood; he'd almost seem asleep if not for the blood slowly coming out of his mouth. One of his hands was folded so silently upon Still she stroked his hair and watched over him, knowing that even if she cried out everyone was busy at the party, the party for him. They never noticed his pain before, had they? Noticed how he'd changed, stopped caring, stopped wanting it so much? She could only stroke his hair and sing him gentle songs as she watched him fade;
"Nobody calling on the phone
except the Pope maybe in Rome...."
If God had a name
What would it be
And would you call it to his face
If you were faced with him
In all his glory
What would you ask if you had just one question?
"Young master, oh there you are!" he turned and looked at yet another person willing to become close to him just for his new position; once upon a time he remembered being like that too, getting close to people he didn't care about at all, but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to care anymore.
Still he once more forced a smile and pushed his glasses up though he rather not see them, "ah hello, Madame."
They spoke so uselessly together till finally she left him alone; he felt like he could no longer take it so bid everyone good night and left his own party. Let them celebrate alone, he thought to himself as he rushed down the silent hallway that led from the ballroom to his room, pulling his tie off as he went; what do I care?
He never could believe that last thought; he didn't care? He didn't want to flaunt his victory over his older brothers? He knew something was terribly wrong with him but couldn't guess what. He'd finally proven he was the best, greater still than his near perfect brothers; so why was it he felt so horrible? Who was it whose voice he kept hearing, laughing like bells in his head, making his great mind think of nothing else? Why?
And yeah, yeah
God he is great
Yeah, yeah
God he is good
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
What if God was one of us?
Just a slob like one of us?
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make his way home
He walked into his room; it was bigger than before and quiet as a grave. He felt a bit more at peace then; he took off his tie completely and removed his jacket, unsure why he felt so hot. He felt he needed to blame the voice that was now so gently speaking his name; it made his mind spin and his heart hurt, like a hand was around it and squeezing real hard.
He unbuttoned his white shirt, feeling his own pale skin under his fingertips but swearing it was someone elses fingers touching him; he almost remembered the name but it disappeared and he was left with nothing. Still with his shirt on but unbuttoned, he moved almost ghost-like towards his balcony, opening glass doors and feeling the cool breeze on him. What exactly had he forgotten that was eating his mind so much? He had to wonder; he closed his eyes and this time saw a face. He knew it though, no confusion; she'd been so precious to him before. But her name, that alone escaped his mind.
If God had a face
What would it look like
And would you wanna see
If seeing meant that you would have to believe
In things like heaven and in Jesus and the saints
And all the prophets
He leaned against the railing, head tilted back just enough to stare up at the moon, the beautiful pale moon that shone so unaccusingly down upon him and everyone and everything. It seemed to know what he was thinking but told him nothing of what he saw in his mind; it knew, he knew it did, but never told.
He remembered her voice whispering his name again, softly into his ear, and envisioned her standing there beside him, her arms around his waist, her lips centimeters from his ear, wearing a long white gown; his heart raced again and he tried to hard to remember her name. Then he might remember why he'd forgotten, why she no longer was there, teasing him with her breath, speaking his name and singing soft songs; where had she gone, the girl he knew would have told him all his reasons for ever wanting to be at that party and overtaking his brothers, the girl who once made his heartbeat skip at her very touch? Why wasn't she there? It made him hurt to try and remember, to force it; he almost cried really because something told him it was all his fault.
And yeah yeah
God he is great
Yeah yeah
God he is good
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
What if God was one of us?
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make his way home
And then it came back to him, his reasons, her name, and his heart cried because it really was his fault; he'd hurt her so harshly.
Trying to make his way home
Back up to heaven all alone
Nobody calling on the phone
except the Pope maybe in Rome
(Instrumental)"Sabrina, I'm sorry." he looked up and behind him back into the room to see two phantoms, shadows of himself and the girl from his memory. She was wearing that flowing white gown and as his shadow self moved towards her, she pulled away, looking down and looking so hurt.
The shadow him stopped after a while, pulling his hands back, "Sabrina, please, say something, anything."
"what do you want me to say, Kyoya?" her voice was like the wind, blowing through him.
"say anything, say you'll forgive me, say you understand...... Say you still love me."
She looked up at the shadow him so painfully then shook her head, "I can't do that; I don't understand so I can't forgive. But I will always love you, really I will, but....."
She turned away from him and the real him could only hold his chest so tight he always broke the skin; he had to turn away as she left and the phantoms disappeared. He looked out over the balcony as all went silent again.
And yeah yeah
God he is great
Yeah yeah
God he is good
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
What if God was one of us?
Just a slob like one of us
Just a stranger on the bus
Trying to make his way home
It looked so far down into his garden below yet it seemed to be calling to him. I hurt her, I deserve to die, I hurt her, what would it matter if I jumped or fell? He had everything but gave up everything else; his best friends, his close friends, his true freedom, his true love.
He took a deep breath, leaning against the railing with closed eyes. A simple movement, a simple swing, a breeze and he'd fall; that's all it would take and for a moment it was all he could think of. That simplicity and ease, almost too easy; he couldn't believe it. He opened his eyes again, stared up at the moon again, and could swear she was saying his name again; he smiled softly.....
Then fell over the edge.
Just trying to make his way home
Like a holy rolling stone
Back up to heaven all alone
Just trying to make his way home
Sabrina Nightshade sat in the Ohtori family's garden, the third son's head on her lap. His glasses were broken and crooked, his usually neat hair a mess and matted slightly with blood; he'd almost seem asleep if not for the blood slowly coming out of his mouth. One of his hands was folded so silently upon Still she stroked his hair and watched over him, knowing that even if she cried out everyone was busy at the party, the party for him. They never noticed his pain before, had they? Noticed how he'd changed, stopped caring, stopped wanting it so much? She could only stroke his hair and sing him gentle songs as she watched him fade;
"Nobody calling on the phone
except the Pope maybe in Rome...."