A/N: :D Hello everyone. I'm alive. -coughunfortunatelycough- And yeah...well... I've had time today and I just wanted to say something and present some kind of deep moral in here, so just hear me, out, okay? :p

anyways, just enjoy it. I applaud you if you stay to read the author's note at the end, if not, it's fine. :D

BEFORE YOU READ THE STORY, UNDERSTAND THAT: It's not focused on any pairing and the time frame has been set when they all graduate from high school but are still Host Club. :P (as a side job of course, they all have their own lives and jobs. But occasionally as you will see in the story, they meet up for certain things.)

Disclaimer: don't own anything.


Her skin is cold, her beat was dead

And one by one, they kiss her head

Two, three, four, five…

Tears are sliding from their eyes

Six, seven, eight, nine…

Roses laid in a line

Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen

Relatives stand at the scene

They listen as the priest said his last words

The coffin closes shut, their sight is blurred

The girl, who's loved them, is no longer there

But it's not like the Host Club ever cared.


It was a thick and grim atmosphere, but as long as they shed tears, it was fine. A smile, a warm shake of the hand, and soft comforting words was all they had to do in order to fit into the solemn mood. People cluttered around the church courtyard, speaking to one another in hushed whispers of how unfortunate and distressing it was to waste such a young life.

She was a very beautiful and intelligent girl, they have said. She had a long life ahead of her and she had a bright future. What a tragedy it was for sickness to befall on her, and what a greater horror it was for her to pass away.

They only stood together, in a cluster with appropriate funeral wear, having talked to all the family relatives about the girl that once graced their club during their high school days.

It was the first time in a lot of times that they have come to a funeral of someone that had attended the very school that they had went to. One looked to another, brown eyes looking up to blue; slight traces of sorrow was evident, and he spoke in a quiet whisper— "Why did this happen…?"

"I don't know…" the man said, eyes lay on the glazed wood of the coffin. The dying sun's glow shone off it and he blinked from his stare. Everyone kept blank faces, occasionally slipping on sympathetic looks for those with swelled eyes.

Alas after some time and the sun has gone down considerably, a man spoke up, reaching up to scratch himself in the back of his neck. "Kyouya, where to next…?" The other, an identical image to the one next to him, spoke his brother's name in a chiding way, but he also wondered the same question.

All eyes were on the man that wrote small notes in a book, a hand came reaching up to run through his wind-torn hair. "We're done for the week…" he concluded, snapping the book shut. Relieved sighs barely passed through their mouths, the rigid facade could now be dropped. "Everything is done, our payment will be received soon. We can leave."

They've nodded, murmuring silent goodbyes, and they slowly scattered. The tall one followed, as always, the short one. The doppelgangers stalked off to their own limousine. The blonde man decided to visit the family once more to comfort them, for he was the one that was closest to her. And he—with the notebook, ready to leave—stayed behind.

"This is… rather dirty," she murmured, clenching and releasing her fists. The dark-haired man stood at a fair distance, listening. "It was the death of one of our friends… and yet we are here, taking advantage of the situation…" She breathed in deeply, turning to look at him in the eye. "I don't agree with what we are doing. Fake sadness…the tears…everything is only pretense."

"But in the club it was pretense as well," he calmly replied, pocketing the notebook. "they, who have idle time and wealth to spare, waste them on fantasy and deceit. We did not come here on our accord. Like a customer, we were requested."

"But she was …" the sentence died on her tongue, her gaze cast away. Kyouya chuckled softly, his arms folded neatly against his chest.

"We were requested, by family, to fulfill the last fantasy of everyone…" he interrupted, he shut his eyes, as a stray breeze blew through. "To give a touching farewell between the prince and the princess, as she falls into an eternal sleep forever and eternity…"

They fell into silence, as from afar, the birds aroused into the air, flying their last flight before their sleep. She looked at the coffin, which was now being picked up by four strong men and carried into a place to where it was buried.

Her and her company decided not to follow through with the funeral, seeing how it would suffocate them in the atmosphere even further. She watched them leave, and the groups of people slowly dispersed into their own ways.

The church bell tolled, just as loud as it had when the funeral began. It spread out in harmonious low chimes over the entire church field and all around.

In the end, it has been another funeral in which they have attended.

Her brown eyes looked towards the pink sky and the wind played through her hair. Her eyes started to glaze over, her lower lip trembled.

"The Host Club will remain the same as it has before she came."

'How cold…' she thought, holding the tears back. This man was not the one that she had known during high school; he was always calculating but never a man without a heart.

"She was just a passing stranger."

The next moment, she saw his back, and he left her alone in the grass fields. She clenched her hands and teeth and glared at the floor, bitterness swelling in her chest.

'…Haruhi… what great friends you have…'


A funeral attendance

For profit, for greed…

Not for heart.


For every bell that tolls for the deceased

There the Host Club, in formal wear, will be.


A/N: The problem with today's society is that people are starting to be affected by money. Some families are torn apart by the issues of money, fights arise because of it. People's morals are starting to disappear as the desire to acquire as much money as they can start to take over their purpose of life. People say that money is freedom, because of money, we are free. Are we really?

Today is Thanksgiving. I hope everyone will read this, maybe today, maybe tomorrow, maybe a few months or years down, and stop to think about what they have and what they don't have.

Yes, money can buy happiness, but it is always temporary. Don't let it blind you from seeing what is really important.

And I'm gonna throw in a little challenge. If you find all the points that I was trying to convey through this short fic, send me a pm about it. I'd like to hear if you got it or not. If you're just a reader for the sake of reading, then it's fine.

-shrugs- I don't care if I'm flamed or what, this is just conveying my own little opinions.

I'd like to hear your thoughts on this. Please review. :D