Disclaimer: Nothing's mine. I just like to borrow the characters to fulfill my own poor, little delusional fantasies. ;)

Rating: T for now… I'll probably change it to M later.

A/N: This is my first Ouran fic, so be nice! Reviews are always welcome but please, no flames—constructive criticism only. Also, I did a little bit of research on Japanese funerals… so if I got anything wrong, let me know!

Devoid

Chapter 1

The rain fell hard that day, yet she stood there with nothing protecting her from the elements. The black dress-suit she wore was getting soaked, but she couldn't feel the wetness on her skin, nor the cold wind blowing against her body. She couldn't feel anything. She couldn't cry, or smile, or laugh… she was emotionless. Her body was numb. She couldn't move—she could only watch as the rain hit the small grave that she hadn't been to in ages.

The small amount of people that stood around her were faceless. After the service, one would occasionally come up to her and pat her back, grip her shoulder, or give her a sympathetic hug. She reciprocated nothing. She stood there like a lifeless doll, as one by one each person paid their respects to her and the ashes that were now in the ground.

All she could do was stare at the characters carved on the tiny monument (if you could even call it that). The concept of time didn't matter to her. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight in front of her. The flowers that were left in front of the grave were already starting to wither from the pelting rain. She couldn't believe that this was happening.

Flashes from four days ago replayed in her memory like it was just yesterday.

It was a rainy night, and Haruhi sat in her small two bedroom apartment that she called home.

She was studying for final exams at the University. Since graduating from Ouran Academy, she had been accepted to one of the most prestigious Universities in Japan—with a hefty scholarship that fully paid for her tuition and books. She was now finishing up her second year at the University and getting ready to apply to law school.

It looked like her life was finally taking a step in the right direction.

The books scattered across her living room floor showed just how hard she was studying these days.

Besides deciding to take the accelerated program (she would be graduating next year) at the University, she also held down a part-time job at a small café close to her home. The money she earned from that job she would keep in little savings account, getting ready for her departure from the home she shared with her father and into her own place for law school.

She was happy. She was content.

And then there was a knock on her door.

She opened it to reveal two police officers standing there.

"Miss Fujioka," one of them greeted, his voice sounding low and official.

"May we come in?" the other asked.

Haruhi nodded and led them into the small, book-scattered living room. She quickly started stacking the books to make the place look presentable.

"Miss Fujioka… it's not necessary for you to do that. We just have some news… you may want to sit down."

She looked up at the officer who spoke. Her heart felt like it was about to drop to her stomach. No one ever said those words when there was anything but bad news.

So she sat down.

The officers had taken off their hats.

"We are sorry to inform you that your father was in an accident."

And her heart dropped to her stomach.

"Is he…?"

"He was walking home from his place of employment. A car lost control in the rain and skidded off the road, hitting him and pinning him to a telephone pole. He was dead on impact."

Now she felt sick.

"Th-thank you," she told the officers.

They stood there for a few seconds, observing her reaction. Then they both nodded and took their leave.

When the door shut behind them, Haruhi ran into the bathroom and became ill.

She stood there in the rain, replaying the scene in her head over and over again.

She hadn't shed a tear since everything started. She worked like a robot getting all the preparations done for the funeral and memorial service.

Her father looked after her, even in death. He had taken out a 200,000 yen life insurance policy in the event of his untimely death. It not only helped pay for his funeral, it would also spare her a few more months in their apartment. But that was it. She still had one more year at the University. She would have to dig into her savings to make up the difference for living expenses, and that would leave her with… not enough for law school.

For the first time in a very long time, she felt completely alone.

A hand on her shoulder interrupted her thoughts.

When she turned to see who it was, it was the last person she thought she'd ever see.

Standing there was Kyoya Ootori. Dressed in a black suit and holding an umbrella over himself, his face was expressionless as he said, "Haruhi, you're all wet. Let's get you someplace dry."

She didn't even bother fighting with him as he slipped his jacket over her shoulders and led her into a black limousine parked nearby. As she slid herself inside, he took the seat next to her. Haruhi purposefully kept her gaze away from his. She already had an idea about his presence at her father's funeral.

After a long, uncomfortable silence she said, "I know why you're here, Kyoya-senpai. You needn't worry about me not finishing University next year. You can let your father know that his compay made no mistake in giving me that scholarship."

She never moved her eyes from boring a hole into the floor of the limousine.

"I came to pay my respects to your father, Haruhi," he explained to her in his usual cool and calm demeanor. "Naturally, my father was worried when he found out you had your finals extended to a later date. When he found out why, he sent me here to pay my respects, and—for the lack of a better phrase, check up on you."

"I'm fine," she told him, her head still drooping down.

"I would have come anyway, you know," he said in response, his voice becoming just a little softer. Then he added, "If you would have told me yourself."

To be continued...