Sweet Revenge

By E.M. Megs

One-shot

"Haruhi Fujioka wasa vibrant woman. And by default, she always felt the need to help others even if she didn't couldn't help herself."

Someone - well, several someones - in the crowd sniffed. Tamaki hated funerals. He'd always felt that they lacked the emotion they should be given. Most people sat stiffly in their seats, trying not to cry, while he knew that most of the dead would hate to see their loved ones crying over them. Haruhi especially would have. He glanced over at his fellow Host Club members. Hunny was crying, pretty close to wailing he was sure. Mori sat by him, soothingly rubbing circles in the blonde's back. The twins weren't far, gripping each other's hands as though they were the only thing the other had left while holding back tears. Ranka was one of the few that was openly sobbing.

And then there was Kyoya. He sat, straight-backed as ever, his ringed left hand clenched in a fist being the only thing indicating the torture he was really going through. Tamaki couldn't possibly think of the agony his best friend was enduring. He, himself wasn't in tears, but his heart still ached with the knowledge that the brunette woman he'd once loved would never walk the earth again.

Never smile at him again.

Never scold him again.

Never huff at him in irritation again.

She would never be there. Ever again.

Her death had been written off as an accident after the impending investigation that had closed off the Ohtori mansion for nearly three weeks.

Kyoya had been accused as her murderer by multiple people before the end of the investigation. Her friend. Her husband. Her lover. The Host Club had stood by him faithfully through all the media's attempts to try and blame the whole ordeal on him. Tamaki's mouth turned down in a frown as he reached over and patted his best friend's shoulder. Kyoya looked over at him with a look of contempt. The blonde quickly withdrew his hand, sighing under his breath. He should have known the Ohtori would never accept pity or sympathy from anyone. Even him.

The funeral ended after a few testaments from her father, her husband that only members of the Host Club could tell killed him to give, and Tamaki himself.

Kyoya stood next to Ranka as everyone else in the funeral home filed out, giving their condolences to the widower and father of the deceased.

That was another thing Tamaki hated. Referring to his lively friend as deceased.

Haruhi's husband said little to anyone, even his friends. A mere, "Thank you," was given to every person who shook his hand and stated how very sorry they were for his loss. Tamaki hung around after the funeral when even other Hosts and Ranka had left, watching as Kyoya sat down in the front pew of the room and mourned silently with his hands in his lap. He walked over and sat next to him after giving him a few moments. The widower made no acknowledgment of him for several moments when he finally spoke.

"They won't leave me alone."

Tamaki looked at him questioningly, not quite understanding. "Who? The media?"

"No. The memories. Her voice. They won't leave me alone." His shoulders shook as the emotion he'd been holding back through the entire ceremony burst forward. "I don't understand why they can't just go away."

Tamaki remained silent for several moments, not knowing quite how to word what he wanted to say. "Kyoya... She just died. Of course you're going to mourn for awhile. And part of mourning is reliving memories with the person."

"This isn't just mourning," Kyoya spat, "It's fucking assault. They're assaulting my mind, dammit." He was silent while Tamaki processed the bitter words his friend was spewing. "And the fucking media isn't helping any. Some of those shitty stories actually make me believeI killed her."

All the swears were starting to freak Tamaki out. Kyoya rarely cussed. And when he did it was with good reason. "You didn't though..."

A glare was sent his way almost before the words had left his mouth. "I know that," he snapped angrily, both of his hands running through his hair and gripping hold of it like he was trying to get a grip on reality. The blonde stared at this broken shell that was his best friend, feeling his heart break for him. This shouldn't have happened. None of this should be happening to anyone like Kyoya. "I just want it to stop." A dry sob left the widower's mouth. Tamaki put a hand on his back. More sobs. "Why her? Why?" he muttered.

~o~

If he were being truthful with himself, Kyoya would say that it really was his fault that Haruhi had died. And he'd also mention that he wasn't just haunted by memories. He was literally being haunted by her. He saw her burned against his eyelids when he closed his eyes. He saw glimpses of her randomly. He dreamt of her. She literally haunted him. And he didn't quite understand why.

Until one night when she appeared in his bedroom when he was looking through old photos. He thought he was seriously going insane. And then she spoke. "We were happy then. You remember right?"

He was silent, staring at their wedding photo from 7 years earlier. "Christ, I knew it. I've gone crazy."

She... floated over to him, murmuring, "You aren't crazy, Kyoya. You're guilty." She paused and moved closer to his face. "Let me show you." A film started playing in his head as she spoke like her words were triggering it. "We were happy when we got married." Their wedding flashed through his mind. Her gorgeous form in a white dress, his own in a tux. Tamaki standing by as the best man. Her father crying tears of joy. 'Maybe she's here to put my mind at ease...' he thought, closing his eyes in pain.

"You were a good husband, always showing me care and love." The time when she had been so sick that her doctor hadn't thought she was going to survive. He sat by her bedside for nearly a week on end, caring for her until she completely recovered.

"But... something in you started to change a few years ago when that doctor told us I was infertile." Kyoya opened his eyes and looked up at her, his mind running through that day. The day they told him he'd never have a son of his own. Haruhi sat next to him, looking at him with sad eyes. "I... I started wishing that I hadn't married you after all, Kyoya. You weren't the man that I married after that. You ignored me. Came home late. Wouldn't talk to me. You wouldn't love me anymore. It was like you married me just so that I could give you an heir."

"I didn't," he whispered, heart aching the more he talked to her like this.

"We fought. We fought for three years."

"Why didn't you leave?"

"I wanted to work out our problems. I didn't want a divorce, Kyoya!" She drew in a deep breath out of habit. After all, she didn't actually need to breathe. "But you... We kept fighting. Sometimes physically." He winced as those particular memories of her bruised body attacked his mind. He'd always hated that time in their marriage. He'd always hated that he'd actually hit her.

More flashes. "Stop it," he muttered, burying his face in his hands.

"You pushed me."

"No, it was an accident."

"You pushed me down the stairs, Kyoya! You killed me!"

"No, I didn't! You fell! You fell down the stairs and cracked your head open on the floor! It was an accident!"

When he looked up at her again, she was gone. A maid stood in the doorway, looking uncertain about what exactly she should do. "Err. Sir?" Great, she thought he was crazy. Hell, he thought he was crazy. Seeing his dead wife's ghost blaming her death on him.

He took a few deep breaths and stood, turning to the maid completely composed once more. "What is it?"

"I just came to tell you dinner's ready... Do you need any help?" He shook his head quickly. The last thing he needed was anyone finding out he was going insane. Or that he was being haunted by Haruhi's ghost.

~o~

She came back every night when he was alone in his bedroom. By the fifth night he was at breaking point. He'd barely slept for five nights straight. "What do you want from me?" he moaned, holding his head in a manner that he also was practically tearing out his hair. "What do you want from me, Haruhi? Take it and leave already. Please."

"I want my life back," she said softly. A momentous occasion occurred then. Kyoya Ohtori cried. She seemed slightly startled when his shoulders started shaking and he looked up at her with tears rolling down his face. She stared at him.

"Is this what you want?" he asked her scathingly, "To see me crying and mourning over you? To watch me go insane with my memory of you? I can't give you your life back. I tried to save you. I tried to stop the bleeding and make you live. I tried to make you happy. I tried to stop being such a prick. I tried everything to make you live, but you wouldn't. You died, Haruhi, and now you're here haunting me and I can't think of anything I can do to make it stop."

"You didn't try to make me happy, you liar."

"I loved you!" he was almost yelling now, startling her once again. "Dammit, Haruhi, I loved you!"

There was silence. He looked up, thinking she had left him again. But she was still there, staring at him with those amber eyes that had always stared straight into his soul. "I don't believe you," she whispered as she faded away.

~o~

He couldn't even remember what they had been fighting about before she'd died. She had screamed something about him working too much, never spending any time with her anymore. She'd told him she couldn't stand this anymore. It was driving her insane. They'd been standing at the top of the stairs, any servants that had previously been in earshot had cleared off to give them privacy. He'd said something about her having an affair.

"How could you say something like that? I've never and will never cheat on you."

He hadn't believed her, muttering about how she'd been sleeping with Tamaki.

"I never slept with Tamaki, you idiot!"

She was so obviously upset, and she was standing so close to the edge of the top step. And she had just, stepped a little farther back and started to fall. He had lurched forward, all thoughts of their fight gone as he just tried to grab hold of her and upright her again. Christ, he didn't want to lose her. He barely touched the fabric of her shirt as he reached for her, but it wasn't enough to stop her from falling.

"HARUHI!"

He'd run as fast as he could to the bottom of the stair, almost tripping once himself. She was unconscious, bleeding profusely from the head. His hands shaking, he took off his jacket quickly and pressed it to her head, trying to stop the red liquid from spilling from her any more.

"Tachibana, call an ambulance!"

He cradled her head in his lap as he pressed down on her cracked skull, waiting for the ambulance to arrive. By the time it had, she'd already bled so much that it was too late. Tamaki had come as soon as he could. The rest of the Hosts had trickled in from their various countries.

"You're remembering it aren't you?" His gaze shot up from his lap to where his wife's form stood.

He suppressed a moan. "I don't remember anything about me pushing you," he muttered, "I may have hit you a few times but I didn't push you down the stairs."

"Yes you did! I was righting myself again and you moved forward and pushed me!"

He stared at her. Could she, in her confusing fall, have misjudged what had happened? "No. I was trying to catch you. We may have been fighting, but I didn't want you dead. I never wanted you to die." She shook her head angrily, looking like she was about to start screaming at him. "I ran to the bottom of the stairs and tried to stop the bleeding. I held your head in my lap waiting for the ambulance that was too late, all the while hoping that you were going to be okay. Haruhi..."

She shook her head. "You pushed me. I'm sure you did."

"It was an accident." He was being driven insane by this dead woman.

"No it wasn't!"

"Yes it was. I loved you. I wouldn't have pushed you down the stairs."

"You keep telling yourself that but you killed me! You did it, Kyoya! You fought with me, you distracted me, even if you didn't push me it's your fault!" He was frozen in shock. She blamed him. And everything she said was true. He had distracted her. He'd made her upset.

It was his fault she was dead.

"How can you live with yourself right now?" she seethed.

"Who says I am?" he growled, "Obviously I'm being tortured by a ghost, so I'm not living with myself. I've felt guilty for your death since it happened and you aren't helping any. God, what do you even want? I obviously can't give you back your life and you know that. So what do you want?"

She stared at him with piercing, angry eyes. He never thought that her eyes could be that way. Cold, uninviting. Like his before he married her...

"I... I want my freedom, Kyoya Ohtori. And the only way to get that is to get my revenge on you." She disappeared.

"What did I do?" he called after her in anguish, "What the hell did I do?"

~o~

He didn't talk to her after that. She talked but he never answered, trying to block the assault on his mind she was creating with every word she spoke. It never completely worked. A lot of the words of blame she said still wound their way into his head.

It was his fault. He'd beat her. He'd made it feel like it was almost unsafe to live in her own home.

"It would have been better if you just left me!"

That single comment made him snap. "How many fucking times do I have to tell you that I loved you? I wouldn't leave you because I loved you."

"Is that past tense I sense from a time before we started fighting?"

He growled under his breath in frustration and turned over on his side. He wouldn't sleep. And she didn't need to, so he just laid there listening to her because he couldn't tune her out. 'She must really hate me. Must always have hated me,' he thought miserably.

And soon the true story that he'd had in his head of her death began to morph into the one she'd been repeating over and over again.

He'd pushed her.

~o~

Kyoya stared at the calendar when he got up. He hadn't actually slept more than an house, kept up most of the night by Haruhi's tormenting voice. He looked at the calendar more, thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him. It wouldn't be three months already. Of course, since she haunted him it seemed almost like she hadn't actually died.

He heard her then, freezing up his entire body. She was singing in the same slight off-key voice that she always had when she was in the shower.

He couldn't take it anymore. The torment. He couldn't get away from her. She'd be in his office while he was working alone. She'd reenact her fall down the stairs when he walked down to breakfast. She was everywhere. Everywhere and no where at the same time. And he couldn't even reason with her. Or hold her. He couldn't touch her, because when he tried, he passed straight through her.

He called Tamaki in France for the first time since the funeral while he was at work. Haruhi was there, watching him as he spoke to his best friend in an unstable voice.

"She won't leave me alone, Tamaki," he cut through the blonde's blabber.

"Who?"

"Haruhi. She's haunting me because I pushed her."

"You... didn't."

"She thinks I did. And hell, now I can't help but think she's right. Everything moved so quickly, I could have pushed her. And if I think about it really hard, it makes sense. We were both angry. It would have been easy if I just pushed her down the stairs."

Tamaki was silent, thinking over his normally collected best friend's frantic words while also trying to comprehend them. He believed in ghosts. He knew they could exist, just not be seen by anyone. But, Haruhi thinking Kyoya had pushed her and coming back for revenge? That... wasn't quite right. It didn't down like Haruhi. "Kyoya. I think you need help. Psychiatric help. I'm going to come back to Japan as soon as I can, alright?"

"I'm not insane, Tamaki!" Kyoya snapped angrily.

"I know that, Kyoya," Tamaki soothed gently. "I know. But it also isn't normal to see your dead wife everywhere while clouded with guilt over her death. I'll come to Japan and then we'll find someone who can help."

God, if his father knew about this... If anyone knew about this... He may as well come to terms with living behind closed doors and never showing his face in public ever again.

~o~

Tamaki couldn't make it for a week. A week of Kyoya sitting in his office on one of the top levels of the 10 story office building on the edge of Tokyo, listening to Haruhi talk about his hand in her death.

She drove him to the absolute brink. He had to get rid of her. And if that meant doing the worst, then he'd do it.

"Where are you going?" Haruhi asked, for once actually sounding scared. He didn't answer her.

When his secretary asked the same question he bit out a quick answer, "Roof. Need air." He took the stairs two at a time up the last two levels of the building until he finally came out on the flat concrete roof. He looked around, only ever coming out here a few times to smoke back when he still had. Short gray concrete walls surrounded the edges of the roof, making it 'impossible' for anyone to fall. The gray floor stood hard against the sun that was beating down. Ventilation system stacks stood in random places, nearly as tall as him. His eyes turned back to the edge.

Haruhi's partially transparent form turned pale as she followed his eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Getting some air," he replied shortly, coldly. He walked quietly over to the edge and leaned a bit over the small concrete wall that only went to his knees, looking directly down. Haruhi watched, paralyzed as he stepped up onto the ledge. "And getting rid of you." She opened up her mouth to speak up but he cut her off. "I know it's my fault. I know I pushed you. Don't you dare say anything now. This is what you wanted. Your revenge." He sounded so defeated. So weighed down. Something in her cracked more and more the longer he spoke. "You wanted me dead like you. That was your revenge so you could be free."

"No," she whispered. It wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want him dead. She didn't want to hurt him even. She just wanted him to love her again. He was turning toward the open air. "No!" she yelled, her form shaking as tears of fear started coming down her face. "Stop it! Get down from there!"

"Why are you trying to stop me? You were the one that wanted this. You were the one that made sure it would happen." His voice was flat, his hands curled in fists at his sides. His left hand still gleamed from the gold wedding ring on his ring finger. He attention was drawn to it. The door to the roof opened with a bang. A frazzled looking blonde stared at the scene in front of him.

Haruhi took no notice of Tamaki's arrival and Tamaki didn't see her. "You're... still wearing it. The ring."

Kyoya spun back around, making both Haruhi and Tamaki lurch forward just in case he were to fall. "Of course I'm still wearing it! Did you think that just because you died I was going to stop being married to you? Did you think that I would stop missing you? Did you think I'd stop loving you?"

Tamaki was trying to figure out who he was talking to. He couldn't see anyone, but he seemed to be staring at one place fixedly. Almost like he was talking to an imaginary friend. He didn't hear Haruhi when she replied, "I... I thought you hated me because I couldn't have children. I thought..."

The blonde didn't let his best friend reply to the invisible person. "Kyoya! Get down from there!" Kyoya's eyes shot to his best friend's, away from Haruhi.

"It's the only way to make her go away," Kyoya said softly, his voice strained. He felt tears build up in the back of his eyes. "She wanted revenge for me pushing her. This is the only way to free her."

Tamaki shook his head. "You're so focused on her. What about the rest of us?"

"I haven't slept for three months because she's always there speaking and haunting and making the guilt in my chest increase so much it hurts! I pushed her! And she won't let me forget that!" He looked over at Haruhi as a sob came from her direction. She was staring at him, but her eyes were back to the way they normally had been when she was alive. "I love you," he said quietly, sounding desperate to get her to understand.

"Kyoya... Get down," she replied softly, "If you love me than you won't do this. I didn't want this. I just... please." And then, she was right in front of him, trying to grasp his shirt and pull him down, but unable to because she went straight through him. Tamaki stared at her, seeing her now. Kyoya just shook his head, unable to deal with the guilt. "You didn't kill me. You didn't push me. Please, Kyoya..."

The blonde could only stand there astonished that Haruhi was actually standing in front of him. "Ha-Haruhi?"

Her chocolate gaze turned to him. "Tamaki... Stop him! Please! I can't..." She tried to pull on his shirt again, concentrating as if doing so hard enough would make her solid. He was turning away from her again. "Kyoya! Stop!" she screamed, choking off into more sobs. Tamaki didn't know what to do and stood there, lost. He was actually going to jump, the blonde realized then. Even with Haruhi now begging him to stop and get down. He was going to jump. "I forgive you!"

He turned slowly, hearing that and looked at her. "I forgive you for everything. For fighting with me. For hitting me. For everything. Please just get down." Kyoya seemed to realize where he was and what he was doing for the first time since he'd gotten to the roof. Like her words were the magic he'd been waiting to hear to forgive himself. He started to jump down from the ledge but didn't see the piece of ice clinging to the edge.

Tamaki rushed forward as his best friend slipped and fell, head first, over the edge. He grabbed at his jacket, barely touching the fabric with the tips of his fingers and in the end he watched his best friend fall 10 stories to the sidewalk below. The screams of people down on the ground echoed up to the top where Tamaki stood. Haruhi stared in shock. "He... still did it."

"No he didn't," Tamaki said sharply, "He was getting down and he slipped." Then realizing he was talking to a ghost he groaned. "Dammit, Haruhi. Why would you think he pushed you? He loved you for God's sake."

"I remember his hand reached out as I was falling. And he was angry... And... I just thought..."

"I was trying to catch you. To grab you so you wouldn't fall." Tamaki jumped at his best friend's voice and looked toward the door to see Kyoya's transparent ghost form shimmering. The blonde looked over the edge again, realizing that this meant that Kyoya was dead. "Tamaki, I was dead the second that I stepped up there. It was stupid. I shouldn't have done it." Tamaki stared at him, unable to speak as he walked toward him and Haruhi. "I don't want anyone to think that I jumped, alright?" He nodded mutely.

Haruhi still had tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I never meant to... I didn't want..."

"I know," Kyoya replied quietly, cupping her cheek in his hand and savoring the fact that he actually could. "I think the worst part about being haunted by you wasn't the words. But the idea that I couldn't touch you." He paused, drawing in a deep breath that he didn't actually need. "I'm sorry that I ignored you and hit you." He choked up on the word hit, wondering how he'd even had the ability to do it. Tamaki just quietly listened as Kyoya stroked her cheek and pulled her close, never having known they'd been having problems with their marriage. She gripped the front of his shirt like she hadn't been able to before.

And then they kissed, like none of the bad stuff had ever happened, and faded away together while Tamaki stood there in shock. A policeman came through the door to the roof and saw him. "Hey! You! Do you know what happened here?"

Tamaki looked at him with eyes that had seen ghosts and murmured, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

~o~

Tamaki looked toward his friends in the front row of the room with Fuyumi. All five looked heartbroken and he didn't blame them. They were attending a second funeral in three months. Of a friend and a family member. Tamaki would have been heartbroken too if it weren't for the fact that he knew the two friends were happy together. Kyoya's father was absent, having believed that his son had dishonored him by committing suicide. Tamaki drew in a shuddering breath and looked down at the paper he held in his hand.

"Kyoya-" he broke off, swallowed once and continued, "Kyoya was born to Yoshio and Mayumi Ohtori on November 22nd 33 years ago, but I didn't meet him until our last year of middle school when we were 15. He was calm and collected and very kind even though he didn't want to show it. He helped me found the Ouran High School Host Club when we started high school, a decision that he never regretted since it brought him the lifetime friendships of the members and it's where he met his wife, Haruhi.

"Haruhi, ironically, fell for Kyoya while she was dating me, which I was actually okay with. He was the only person that I ever would have given her up to willingly. He was the only person I would give anything to make happy besides my own family and fellow Hosts. Haruhi and Kyoya were married after tons of prodding from me, Hikaru, Kaoru, Hunny, Mori and Fuyumi 7 years ago. Kyoya was 26, Haruhi 25. Not many people realized it, but when they found out Haruhi was infertile 4 years into their marriage, they started having problems. Kyoya became overwhelmed by work while his wife thought he hated her for not being able to give him children. They fought a lot in the last three years, arguments that not even I found out about until a week ago."

The four other Hosts looked up at him with questioning looks but he kept going. "Kyoya regretted those fights, especially the ones where he... hit Haruhi." The twins eyes flashed angrily at the mention, all evidence of any grief immediately gone. "They loved each other, but they were both just... stressed. When Haruhi died three months ago, Kyoya wasn't the same. He acted like everything was fine, but inside he was tearing himself inside out with guilt over her death." Tamaki had to stop and gather himself together before he could give the last part of his speech. "Kyoya did not jump off that building, no matter what the rumors have been saying. I was there, and he didn't jump, he slipped. He was too proud and goal-oriented to kill himself like that.

"Some of you may ask why he was up there and to that I can only say that he needed air. A week before his death, Kyoya called me in an uncharacteristic frenzy. He'd been seeing Haruhi everywhere. She was haunting him. And as crazy as that seems, she was. Haruhi thought that he pushed her down the stairs, which was a grave misunderstanding. She drove him to the brink of insanity without actually knowing what she wanted from him. At first, she said she wanted her life. Then revenge. But in the end, she left after she forgave him on the roof. But I think that what she really wanted was to be with him. And him with her. They both had so much to apologize for, but in the end, it was all forgiven and they were together once more."

Tamaki looked up from his paper, feeling tears of grief pool in the back of his eyes as he gazed at his friends and then toward the back of the funeral home where he thought he could see the silhouettes of two people holding hands before they disappeared again.

~o~

A/N: Yeah... Kinda depressing. Kinda happy. Written because I needed another one-shot to make 20 stories even and because I got a random idea from the song Sweet Revenge by Barlowgirl. I suggest listening to the song to get the full meaning behind the story. Errrr. Anyway. I'm gonna go work on my summer homework more and then try to finish the next chapter of LD before school starts. Greaaaat.

Unedited/beta'd. Slightly OOC. Not my best work. But unedited and 5,000 words. Awesome.