Ouran High School Host Club Fan Fiction ❯ Angels in Shadows ❯ The music, the wings of the black haired angel ( Chapter 1 )

You didn't have to say goodbye
You could have said again
Those whispers of remorse and love
I'll never soon forget.



The hallways of Ouran were quiet for once, silent as a grave really. No girls were running down the halls, no commotion coming from one certain room, nothing. It was eerily and it was strange and it made the few people at the school at that time a bit nervous.
After all, the Host Club was /never/ quiet.
The room was in its original state, a music room of course, and none of the six "boys" were dressed up; written "boys" as one wasn't one, but actually a girl. Haruhi Fujioka, a commoner and female, sat in one of the numerous chairs studying, ignoring the worried ramblings of a certain blonde violet eyed "Host King". She of course wasn't the only one; in the corner sat the Hitachin twins Hikaru and Kaoru who were sitting side by side playing a video game seeming for once quite absorbed in it though they all knew it wouldn't last. Mitsukuni Haninozuka, Hunny, sat eating cake with his prized stuffed Bun-Bun on his lap, looking more six than eighteen; his cousin and loyal protector Takashi Morinozuka, Mori, standing beside him in ever stoic fashion. Meanwhile the King, Tamaki Suoh was having a crisis; after all there were actually seven members of the host club.

 

Kyoya Ohtori was the seventh member, the vice-president in charge of keeping everyone else in line. So why wasn't he there along with his rather unstable friends, sitting and writing strange unknown notes as Tamaki spoke and ranted about the next theme whatever it might be, his glasses showing only reflected light and not his gray eyes staring at his notes? Because he had felt something unusual, unusual to the point of nearly being unbelievable; he'd felt wanderlust, the urge to wander aimlessly to somewhere, anywhere. Kyoya Ohtori never did anything without aim, so once more this was unusual beyond compare.

He strode down the hallways, one hand in his pocket, his eyes once more hidden by that ever present reflected light. His other hand was running itself through his neat and tidy black hair, wondering exactly why he /was/ so suddenly stricken by wanderlust; he knew very well he probably should have been in the club room, knowing how much Tamaki would freak out by the non-presence of “Mother”. He could only sigh though, the only really good part of this he guessed was that he could avoid dealing with that insanity for now and he did trust Haruhi to be able to handle calming them all. If she actually felt like trying for once.

He'd gotten to the cafeteria, walking down the stairs to it when he noticed it; a soft sound like a bird crying, beautiful and angelic even as soft as it was. Kyoya turned around looking around, trying to find the source; the halls were empty though except for him and he found nowhere in sight was the source. But it still went on and he felt as if maybe that was why he'd felt so much need to wander around; to hear this wonderful sound and found the thing creating it. He continued his searching until he realized it was coming from above. The roof? He thought for a second before heading for the other stairs, the ones that led to the roof of the building. As he went the sound continued to play and actually got gradually louder as he moved towards it. He climbed the way up to the rooftop and opened the door to blinding sunlight of a beautiful day. He blinked, turned away to avoid the unexpected light but quickly looked back to see the source………

Was a girl. Long jet black hair that flowed behind her in the wind, like gossamer wings, skin that only slightly held a paleness to it, she wore the Ouran girls uniform and seemed comfortable in it and had a pair of oval glasses that lay just out of her eye line. She held a violin in her hands, and the music he had heard and was now hearing so clearly was coming from her and the instrument. Kyoya stood in awe for a second, a stranger feeling still than even the wanderlust he'd felt before, watching and listening as this girl, seeming unaware of his presence, of anything else really except her violin, her fingers and bow dancing on the strings, her music that filled the air with sorrow but also a strange hope, and the sun and sky that seemed to there just to make her happy. His heart, as clique and idiotic as it might sound especially in relation to someone like Kyoya who rarely if ever acted on his emotions, was touched by it and he couldn't help but close his eyes, “seeing” the music as it dancing behind his eyelids. It was wonderful.

But then it stopped.