Author's Note: the third in Love series. Thank you all for reading/coimmenting/reviewing Golden Horizon and the other stories. I appreciate it greatly! So, review please? Thanks! (^.^)

Warnings: mentions of self-mutilation. hurt!Kyoya, withdrawn!Tamaki.

Rated: T for ideologically sensitive material.

Diversion: an activity that diverts, amuses or stimulates.


"Kyoya, I-!"

The raven haired boy looked up, the other's footsteps had became distant. Tamaki had left.

Tamaki stopped talking to him.

He stopped looking at him.

Tamaki had given up on Kyoya. It had been three days since the unforgivable act on Kyoya's part. But why would Tamaki feel any sympathy?

He had lied to him. He had thought he had such a great hold on it all- the erratic turn of his emotions grabbed hold of him. He wept silently to himself. What he did wasn't right and he knew it. He just couldn't stop.

His arm throbbed in pain, blood creating beautiful rivers down his arm. He didn't care anymore. He just wanted to leave the world. The one person he thought he could always turn to was gone. Tamaki didn't care any longer. He avoided the vice president at every angle. Tamaki showed complete disregard for Kyoya's wellbeing.

He didn't care any longer.

And that hurt. It hurt worst then his father's lecturing, worst than his sister's absence and more than his heart breaking reminding just of the deceit he had done.

Kyoya was sorry… so very sorry. He couldn't face Tamaki, he didn't go to the club right after school. He went home. They wouldn't need him anyway.

He wanted to go up to the blonde and just explain. He just wanted forgiveness. It would be no use on account of his stupid emotions. It could not be help that his eyes filled with tears, the familiar burning reached a high when he look in the direction of his friend.

There was nothing else he could do.

Sitting in the porcelain tub, Kyoya watched as even more blood pooled away from him and down the drain. The blood stained the sides of the tub- he felt bad for the maids that would soon have to clean that. It didn't help matters that not any of the Host club members came to him. No one seemed to care for his absence; his blatant disregard for anything seemed to have slipped their eye.

Well, that was okay.

He had his razor and that was all he needed.

It wasn't like he needed him.

He didn't need love.

He didn't need friends.

He was doing just fine without them.

The raven haired boy wasn't stupid. He knew his body's limits; he wouldn't go overboard no matter how much every one would want him to.

He wasn't giving in to anyone. Unshielded hurt warped into unadulterated anger. Jumping out of the tub at a speed he later would have no memory of, Kyoya ran into his room.

His room was neat and clean, nothing out of place and everything conveniently placed in his dressers. Tamaki wanted to betray him? Make him out to be some lunatic that he wasn't?

Kyoya could play that game.

The boy came across the blondes left over clothes. He ripped them from the seams, gaining satisfaction out of the tears and wholes of the traitor's clothes. Tamaki deserved it, after all how else could a traitor wear his clothes?

He let out a malicious bark. Drops of blood poured onto the blonde's clothing, tainting it. Kyoya laughed even harder. Let the bastard walk around in torn and bloodied clothing.

He had an even better plan.

Walking up to his laptop Kyoya opened the folder that held all the host club's finances. Everything, dating back to the very beginning was still there.

He pressed delete. He watched as the club both boys had built so diligently be torn to shreds in a blink of an eye.

It was gone, the folder empty.

The aching guilt hadn't yet set in.

The rest of the Host Club had no one to blame but themselves.

Ooh! A cliffhanger! Hadn't had one of those in a while!