There was something so depressingly surreal about a dark room with no windows, Kyoya had come to realise. It was impossible to judge the time, whether it was day or night, and his sleep pattern was so twisted he just slept whenever he was on the verge of passing out. The thought of being unaware with the man around… It made him so utterly uncomfortable that he just couldn't even close his eyes for a minute.
Or… what might be a minute. He was really unsure at this point, everything either passing in a blur or dragging on for eons.
It might've been the cold concrete below him, as well. It was uncomfortable, and his skin was mottled with bruises from his hipbones, knees and elbows pressing into the hard surface. It certainly didn't help that, when he'd said to the man that his clothes were sweated through and filthy, he'd only been given a clean shirt and his other clothes were taken away.
Which led up until now, dull eyes staring into the darkness, curled up on the ground in that too big shirt and his dirty underwear. He only curled up tighter when his stomach gave a loud, painful growl, shoulders shaking but not crying. He was just cold. He wasn't scared, he never cried himself to sleep, and he wasn't going to die. They'd find him.
… Right?
He couldn't remember the last thing he'd eaten, not that he'd even know when that was anymore. He didn't know what had happened for the man to grab him, but he remembered feeling very dizzy and just plain odd, and so he didn't trust the food he was given. He felt like he was going to crack soon, but whenever the man would enter and give him his meagre portion of food, that uneasiness came back at full force, and he couldn't even bring himself to even pick up the plate.
The door opened, Kyoya wincing as the light hit him square in the eye, tearing up a little from the brightness after being in the dark for so long. The man's big, dark shadow loomed for a moment, before propping the door open, Kyoya's mind reeling sluggishly through the possibilities of that.
He was exhausted and sore.
In the man's hands was a bowl, as well as something else in his other hand that Kyoya couldn't see. Maybe it had been long enough that the man was going to actually try talking him into eating? He wouldn't, he couldn't; even if the hunger was still something at the forefront of his mind, he couldn't risk it. This wasn't a gamble he was used to, like the host club; this was playing Russian Roulette, and he was trying to get out of his turn without playing.
The man knelt down next to him, rough hands hauling him up and pushing his arms behind his back, a zip tie fastened around his wrists while his head was still spinning from the motion. His eyes were locked on the door behind the man's looming figure, hissing as a second zip tie was fastened around his thin ankles, the protruding bones knocking together painfully.
"C'mon, growing boys need to eat," The man coaxed, Kyoya's heart dropping at how lilting and cheerful that voice was, knowing that it could only mean bad things.
He clenched his jaw tightly, shaking his head. He glared at the man with all the menace a too-thin, lanky teenager with grease-slicked hair, wearing just an oversized shirt and underwear, possibly could. He wasn't going to play this game, he didn't want to feed into anything this sadistic sociopath wanted him to.
His resolve didn't matter, however. The man grabbed his jaw hard enough to leave bruises, fingers forcing themselves into his mouth and managing to pull his teeth apart. That was when he knew what the mystery object the man had was. The hard block was shoved between his back teeth, preventing him from closing his mouth. He tried to spit it out, but he couldn't get enough purchase on it to push it out of his mouth.
A distressed noise managed to make its way out, embarrassingly enough, and the man stroked the back of his hand down Kyoya's face, smirking. "Shush, baby boy," The man mockingly cooed, "Just relax. I know boys like you want to be pretty but starving yourself isn't going to work. Or do you just want some attention? Well, you're getting it now, don't worry."
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, a shiver running through him. Somehow, after hearing that, he felt even colder. His mind flashed to his mother, the feeling of her false nails raking gently through his hair as she told him that he was her baby boy, so handsome and cute. It wasn't like that now, it just made him feel nauseous, especially when he saw the man pick up the bowl.
The metal scraped against the china bowl all too harshly, and he wrinkled his nose at the thin looking substance he was obviously going to be fed. Rice porridge? That's what it reminded him of, but it was lumpy and congealed in places, watery in others; like it had been made with curdled milk or something. It smelled repulsive, he knew that much; how badly can you fuck up porridge?
He tried to turn his head away, tried to resist, but the man stopped him all to easily. The spoon was pushed to the back of his throat, Kyoya spluttering as the man almost choked him with it. His neck twisted painfully as the man tilted his head up by yanking on his hair with one hand, rubbing his throat with the other. It was reminiscent of something Tamaki had done when Antionette needed antibiotics, only a lot rougher than the blond would ever be towards his beloved dog.
Kyoya was basically forced to swallow, the clumps of porridge falling heavily in his stomach, as if he was swallowing lead weights. It was different from the emptiness that had been there for… however long it had been. Uncomfortable, even, and not just because the whole thing was far too invasive. His teeth grinded hard on the block between his jaws, his mouth sore from the grip, and he just felt like his stomach was doing summersaults.
Several spoonfuls in, as well as some blinked back tears, the man obviously lost his patience with doing it the slow way. He tutted, fingers shoved into the back of his mouth, hooking around his molars and wrenching hard on Kyoya's lower jaw to open his mouth further, the pain in his teeth almost unbearable as the rest of the disgusting porridge was poured unceremoniously into his mouth, and he had to swallow in order to avoid breathing the stuff in. It was hell on his throat, undercooked rice scraping against the sensitive skin, and the muscles doing more than they had in a while.
It was nothing like what he'd read about. It was like swallowing razorblades, and he could taste the blood flowing from his agonised teeth. He could feel hard, bone-like shards occasionally when he swallowed, which only stabbed into his abused oesophagus more. It hurt. It hurt so much, and he honestly just wanted this to end but the seconds dragged their feet, almost as if they were as tortured and exhausted as he felt.
He teared up, feeling himself gagging but just trying to swallow it down. He could feel the porridge spilling from the corners of his mouth, the oversized shirt suspiciously wet, but he managed to get the last of it down without puking everything up again, thank God. He didn't want to do that in fear of another bowl being brought down, that mocking voice lilting once more.
His breathing was heavy when the man took the bowl away from his lips, arms and legs feeling weak and every fibre of him was shaking. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he coughed, feeling utterly powerless and humiliated. Blood ran down his chin, mixing with the disgusting porridge, from his now broken back teeth.
The light from the doorway illuminated the shattered fragments of enamel that he spat from his mouth all too clearly, but it didn't seem like the man cared. Those calloused, bruising fingers ran through his hair, and everything tensed. He couldn't even breath.
"There. That wasn't so hard, was it baby boy?" The man chuckled, his footsteps fading and the room plunging back into total darkness once more. Kyoya just curled up once more, running his tongue along his sharp, broken, bloody teeth and crying. He didn't know how long it was until the tears dried up and he fell into an uneasy sleep.
After all, there was something so depressingly surreal about a dark room with no windows.
A/N: This is going to take some prompts from my Bad Things Happen Bingo card, so feel free to request something if you want to see it: post/177486419968/so-im-participating-in-bad-things-happen-bingo
My Ko-Fi: /J3J0FT23