Warning: This fan fiction contains a serious subject. That being child abuse. If that isn't your thing, feel free to click that little left facing triangle or arrow or what have you.

Disclaimer: As much as I want to, I won't ever own this show. I know that. You know that, but apparently I have to say it so I don't get sued or something. I DO, on the other hand, own this story…so we've got something going for us…


The Possible Benefits

Kyouya awoke on his hardwood flooring, a mixture of confusing and fatigue crossing his features. He didn't relish the idea that he couldn't recall as to how he had ended up at this point, spread eagle on his floor, but remembering didn't hold much promise for him, and seemed non to appealing. His skills of recollection went unappreciated as he found himself spiraling into the memory.

[Earlier that day]

"Kyouya. When you arrive home, meet me in the study. Immediately" His father's voice darkened the longer he spoke. His anger was evident.

"Yes father. May I inquire as to why?" Kyouya asked hesitantly, looking at the backs of the Host Club. Tamaki was spewing some nonsense about how his precious 'daughter' shouldn't be so reluctant to hug her 'daddy'. All of them were far too preoccupied with closing that no one realized Kyouya's worry. He wouldn't want them to see this anyway.

"I believe that you know why. If I have to tell you, then I'm afraid this will make matters worse." His father's cold voice spat with slight disgust.

Kyouya knew full well why his father wanted to 'speak' with him. No. More talking AT him than talking WITH him. Kyouya was still in the Host Club. His father had clearly professed his dislike for his choice in clubs at the festival when he expressed his anger with his hand meeting his youngest sons' face. The sound had reverberated so loud throughout the large room that everyone couldn't help but stop and rubber-neck to see what had happened.

Kyouya wasn't surprised.

This wasn't the first time that his father had struck him. Hell, it wasn't the twelfth, or fiftieth. This was routine for the third son of the Ootori's. This wasn't something that he couldn't handle though. Surely his father was simply testing his resolve. Something similar to a P.O.W. type of training. His father is trying to strengthen him mentally so that if something were to have happened, if the situation were to present itself in which Kyouya could potentially leak a secret about his family's company, his mind would be too strong to succumb to it.

At least that's what he told himself.

It's the most logical reasoning Kyouya could come up with. The only thing that could benefit his father in the long run. Knowing that his son won't leak secret, even if he is physically abu- no physically harmed, must give him some peace at mind. Right?

"Kyouya!" His father's shouting voice snapped him out of his reverie.

"Yes father. I apologize." Kyouya said almost a little too hastily, gaining a few glances from various members of the Host Club.

"You will be there." He state flatly. This wasn't an option. It was a command.

His tone caused Kyouya to swallow a little harder.

"Yes father. I will." He tried to voice nonchalantly, mentally wincing when he heard him voice crack slightly. He opened his mouth a final time to redeem his mishap, only to be met with a dial tone. He quickly closed his mouth and snapped his phone shut with equal swiftness. He ran a shaky hand through his hair and removed his glasses, lightly pinching the bridge of his nose. He reopened his eyes to meet the concerned child-like orbs of Haninozuka-sempai.

"Kyou-chan?" Hunni-senpai approached, Usa-chan in tow.

"Are you alright? Would you like to hold Usa-chan?" His senpai offered, holding the child's toy out to Kyouya as an offering.

"No thank you Huni-senpai. I'm just fine." Kyouya smiled a false smile as he waved the toy away. He looked up and saw the rest of the host club staring at him with concerned eyes. With Haruhi and Tamaki at the front.

"Are you sure, Kyouya-senpai?" Haruhi's large brown eyes stared at him.

Please just stop

"Kyouya. You know you can come to Daddy if you need help." Tamaki looked at him with serious eyes, so very unlike the words he just said.

Please help me

"I'm just fine. Just an unhappy customer ruffling my feathers." Kyouya dismissed with the wave of his hand as he stood and reached for his stuff.

"You don't seem fine. And since when has someone's words ruffled you?" Kaoru and Hikaru spoke in unison.

I'm not. Something is wrong. I can't find an actual reason as to how hitting me could benefit anyone!

He wanted to slam hit fists into the table. Kick and lash out. Do SOMETHING.

"Look. I'm just fine. It's been a long day. I guess I've been called mother just one too many times today." Kyouya deadpanned, attempting at Tamaki starting enough drama to distract the members.

"I…I…Ruffle your feathers?!" Tamaki stuttered, eyes welling up with tears.

"Why didn't you say so? A father should never do that to the beloved mother of his family!" Tamaki shouted, spiraling into a depression as he ran to the corner to wallow in his sadness.

"Tono. Not again!" Hikaru and Kaoru said simultaneously, somehow finding a stick to poke their Tono with.

"Usa-chan will make you feel better Tama-Chan!" Hunni sprinted, holding Usa-chan above his head in a superhero pose. With his departure, the silent Mori reluctantly retreated, following his hyper-active cousin.

And then there was one.

Haruhi continued to stare at Kyouya. Brown, meaningful eyes staring deep into Kyouya's.

"Senpai I-"Haruhi started, but was cut off by the ringing of Kyouya's cell phone.

He had taken too long to leave the room and now his father would be even MORE angry with him.

He flipped open his phone, his staring match with Haruhi remaining in play. He didn't need to look at the I.D. to know that it was his father.

"Yes." He answered, having being met with the angry slur of his father's voice.

"Kyouya. You WILL get your ass home NOW." His voice was an eerily calm, but the anger and slur in his voice was still present. He was not only drunk, but pissed as well. Great combination.

"Yes." He stated simply, looking at the curiosity in his kouhai's eyes. Upon hearing the familiar dial tone, Kyouya snapped his phone shut again and placed it respectively into his book bag.

"I'm afraid something has come up and I need to leave early today. I trust you can manage to close without me and control Tamaki." He said, breaking eye contact to glance over at Tamaki, who seemed to still be in his corner while the twins poked and prodded and Hunni attempted to cure him with the 'magic' of Usa-chan.

With that having been said, Kyouya turned his back to leave. He placed his hand on the door of the Third Music Room with every intention of leaving.

"Kyouya-senpai." Haruhi said just loud enough for Kyouya's ears, causing him to leave his hand poised just above the handle to the door, his silence signifying Haruhi to continue.

"If you were in trouble, you would tell us. Right?" Haruhi asked. He could hear her taking another step toward him.

He needed to leave.

"Of course Haruhi. IF I were in any trouble, you guys would be the first people I would turn to." He said with just enough sarcastic inflection for Haruhi not to know weather or not he was serious. Before she could ask anything, he exited the room, sighing something between relief and unease.

I need help.


Kyouya couldn't help but hate how leaving somewhere seemed to take twice as long as the trip back. He found himself staring up the mansion, waiting for the driver to open his door.

Within moments, he found himself opening the door to his father's study. The air smelled thick of alcohol so pungent that Kyouya found himself inhaling sharply. He saw his father patiently waiting in his large chair.

"Father?" Kyouya hesitated, taking a step toward the desk and dropping his book bag by the door. His father remained unresponsive as Kyouya took another step closer.

"You called me, saying you wanted to-" He was cut off by the slamming of his father's prized alcohol against the wall, mere inches from where he had previously been standing when he entered.

"You will shut up. You will NOT tell anyone about this." His father said, standing up aggressively, stalking over to his son.

Kyouya knew the rules by now.

With no more words being said, his father struck him across the face. Much harder than he had at the festival. Kyouya's glasses flew off his face and landed somewhere in the room with a light sound.

Kyouya's head had snapped in the direction his father had hit, otherwise he remained completely still.

"Why do you do this to me?" The man slurred. Punching Kyouya in the gut and returning with an uppercut with the other hand as his son had leaned forward, clenching his stomach.

He watched as his son crumbled to the floor.

"Don't you understand what an embarrassment you are to this family?!" He raised his voice, delivering several swift kicks to his son, who remained silent on the floor.

"You keep doing this. You are MAKING me do this to you." He yells, stomping his son's back when he sees him attempting to stand.

"Clients laugh. Patients laugh. Your brothers have reported to me numerous times about how your childish antics are what's causing them to lose business!" He spat, grabbing Kyouya by his hair and tossing his across the room.

"Stand up!" He shouted to his youngest.

Kyouya made a movement to stand. His stomach ached so much. His ribs were probably broken. This was all his own fault. He had made his decision to join the Host Club.

Kyouya managed to get to his hands and knees before his father delivered another kick to his stomach, relishing in the gasp of pain that came out of Kyouya's mouth.

"I said 'stand up' you worthless piece of garbage!" He yelled. Stomping on his son's back another time.

Kyouya made a quicker movement to rise to his feet, finding it much harder then the last time. But he HAD to stand. He didn't want to look weak. Like he couldn't handle the onslaught of punches and kicks that he was receiving.

As he rose to his feet, he met his father's cold eyes.

"You are undeserving of the Ootori name. I am ashamed to call you my son." His father hissed, standing mere inches from his son's face. Kyouya didn't wince. He just stared through his father.

"Leave me. And so help me, if you speak a word of this to anyone, you'll get much worse than a couple of bumps and bruises." He said, spitting on his son's stoic face, but not before slapping him one more time across the face.

Kyouya remained still, finding himself in another staring contest, except he wasn't looking into the kind brown eyes of Haruhi, he was looking into the dead lifeless eyes of his father. He could feel the blood dripping down his chin and his cheek swelling.

He didn't turn around until he saw his father's retreating back. He snatched his glasses off of the floor and grabbed his book bag, making his exit hasty as he quietly shut the door behind him.

He somehow made it to his room, shortness of breath having made the task more difficult.

He walked to his washroom and looked at himself in the mirror. His shirt had blood on it. He lifted his shirt and looked at both the fading, evident, and forming bruises. He had three large, bleeding cuts covering his torso. His father must have had his rings and boots on. Prefect.

He felt a tightness in his chest and was compelled to cough, much to the protest of his most likely broken ribs. He covered his mouth and gave a painful hack. He looked at his hand out of reflex and say blood.

He managed to walk out of the bathroom to try and make it to his bed. This is one of those times when he regretted having such a large, luxurious room. Wearily walking toward his bed, he felt a light-headedness before his vision was clouded in a sea of dark.


[Back to current]

Kyouya slowly sat up, much to the protest of his body.

What time is it?

Kyouya wearily stood up, body screaming, and reached for his book bag. Finding it in the corner, he rummaged through it until he found his cell phone. He looked at the time and gave a rough grunt in frustration.

Apparently he had only and hour until school started.

He attempted to speed through his routine. He had yet to dress his wounds from last night and hope to God that his face wasn't as bad as it felt. Steadying himself against the wall, he made his was back into his washroom, quickly grabbing any gauze and bandages he could find and applying them with rubbing alcohol, the sting mocking him as he dabbed the tender area with a cloth.

He dressed his wounds carefully and slowly looked at his face.

At least there was some luck on his side.
His face looked relatively unscathed, with the only trace of last night being a cut above his eyebrow. Nothing his hair couldn't hide.

The whole process took him forty-five minutes, giving him fifteen minutes to change into his spare uniform and get to school.

Kyouya couldn't help but chuckle at this. His father would surely get angry with him for being late to school.


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A/N:

Hey there glorious reader. It's Efflorescent. For those of you that have read my Naruto fanfiction, I guess you have figured out that I wrote another story. You little genius you! Heh heh. Anyway, I can't help that I am drawn to Kyouya. He just seems like and interesting character that doesn't get enough attention in my opinion. I know it's a KyouyaXHaruhi pairing, and I intend to keep it that way. I am pro TamakiXHaruhi, but I also like Kyouya and Haruhi. Anyway, I would really appreciate a review, and as a test to see it you even read these or if I can simply omit them from chapters, it'd be great if you posted a slight acknowledgement...something like...Effie...or whatever makes it a lil' obvious. You don't have to if you don't want to, I just want to know if I'm wasting my time writing this unread authors note! Anyway...R&R, Flames are both welcomed and appreciated.