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09 December 2008 @ 11:50 pm
Masquerade Ends [Haruhi]  
Title: Masquerade Ends
Character: Haruhi
Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club
Genre: General, Introspection
Rating: G
Word Count: 500

A/N: Sort of sequel here: Was So


Masquerade Ends

A month before graduation, Tamaki asks her what she thinks of a masquerade. For old times’ sake, for the memories and trifles bound to fade when they leave. And for him and for all of them (and a slight—the tiniest shred—bit for herself) she agrees.

The drinks drain and the food decays.

The masquerade trembles from being touched. On a high, clear note, Haruhi prepares to clasp shut the casket (it’s curtain call).


On days like these, with the sun shining so bitter and darkly and making lurid circles darken under her eyes, she likes to walk.

And hum and think by—for—herself as her feet make impact on the imported pebbles (these people never did anything by the halves). Haruhi pauses and imagines a clever response. And when she turns around, the Twins look forward eagerly.

“I’m sorry.”

They nod, knowing it is so. So—

So-so and so what. So what that things are changing that they are leaving.


In the game of politics…Kyouya once remarked.

She has his words memorized verbatim. She hangs onto them, gestures of hope and reliance and maybe there is some stability still left. And knows she is fishing in air.

They will be different. They are moving on, without her.

Too young, twice shy and all of that. That which makes them distinct and separate (Haruhi stands for the closing ceremony).


For the masquerade, they dress her beautifully (to say goodbye, she understands). Stuffed with sweetness and girliness and correctness, she can hardly protest.

Tamaki asks her to dance. Haruhi agrees and pretends she is a princess and the floor will break if she steps brutally.

She is not graceful but does not fall either. Tamaki is an excellent partner, she notes.


“Your debt has been paid,” Kyouya says.

She widens her eyes. Oh? “Thanks.”

“You’re free to go.”

And Haruhi quickly leaves (but turns around one last time, catches him shuffling papers repetitively—delaying). Haruhi smiles.

He does not.


The seniors graduate, Mori and Hunni, and there is a sharp void trying to claw its way out of her shirt (stop that). It relents for a moment to see Hunni make the valedictorian speech and sendfurtive glances towards Kyouya.

Hunni puts it down flat and blunt: what will happen now?

Kyouya shrugs (Tamaki is exclaiming and tearing and taken-in-the-moment by his childlike heart). They all let out tragic sighs, even Kyouya is lost for words.

Indecision, he would have said, is stupid.


Freedom is absurd, she concludes.

(The world is absurd.)


Reverberating from behind glass panes, Tamaki plays a sonata. Ode to a Finale, Ode to Beginning is Ending is Reliving.

He calls it the suicide room, the corner to approach when the arts age and die.

Haruhi doesn’t understand: she’s too pragmatic.


Freedom is not about choice—that she gets.

(The world is choiceless.)


They depart in long-stretched, sinewy limousines, black and ominous like an eclipse. Haruhi waves them goodbye and grins when Mori and Hunni poke small faces out of shimmery windows.

No more fantasies and facades.


ceriene: Soramine - starrysky◦°○ceriene on December 10th, 2008 12:22 pm (UTC)
Gorgeously written. ;-;
nami ❥☆ [real name: denise]dollypie on December 10th, 2008 04:11 pm (UTC)
aww lovely!! <3
Miyu, Vampire Princessdarkflame_dragn on December 10th, 2008 06:04 pm (UTC)
An enjoyable read. Nicely written. Thanks for sharing. ^^
elisabell_angel: Sadelisabell_angel on December 11th, 2008 12:25 am (UTC)
Beautiful I love the idea... Love this ^^ *sorry for not being very coherent*
Nobody's laughing now: O - bunny enticelavinialavender on December 15th, 2008 08:03 am (UTC)
Sigh, very sad. But gorgeously written.
treeflamingo: Utenatreeflamingo on December 15th, 2008 09:08 pm (UTC)
You do the most amazing things with the simplest of plots. *shakes head* This is delectable, in the sort of way that 75% cacao dark chocolate is delectable. It's not that one necessarily enjoys the bite in the cheeks and the underpowering sweet, but rather it is the texture and the savory patience with which it melts on the tongue and the just slightly masochistic sophistication that one enjoys.

Let me tell you something. I had to read this phrase: and sendfurtive glances four or five times before I realized that "sendfurtive" is not some shiny expensive new adjective you were teaching me, and that you had simply forgotten to put the space in between. I find that hilarious.

Oh, also, out of curiosity. "In the game of politics..." Is that actually the start of some line of Kyouya's that I'm failing to remember? Or are you just being subtle?
Y U no auto-translate?lye_tea on December 15th, 2008 11:07 pm (UTC)
Lol! Sorry about that and thanks for catching it. I'm gonna fix it now :)

Yes it's Kyouya's "stream of consciousness".
ex_courages on January 1st, 2009 11:23 pm (UTC)
I love the way you describe seemingly normal events or objects, and turn them into something amazing. I adored the description of the long-stretched, sinewy limousines.