A/N: As I promised, here is another idea for Skyshipping. Be warned, however, that unlike my first one, this will not be a happy/funny story; in fact, it will pretty much veer in the opposite direction. Themes include angry!sex and dubious/no consent (borderline rape), so proceed at your own discretion. Timeline is again ambiguous; sometime down the road, but not too much.


Rainy days were never good. Perhaps it was all just a giant coincidence, or maybe he was over-thinking things, but to Yuma Tsukumo, when the weather turned gray, so did his mood. The day had already started out not promising when he arrived at school looking like he'd climbed out of a swimming pool, and late to boot. Things didn't improve after that, especially after getting a D on yet another test, and to top it off he had to spend the weekend working with Tori to finish a presentation on Heartland's history. So it would be quite accurate to say that by the time the final bell rang, he was more than ready to race out of the hallways and head on home, maybe even getting a duel or two in before hitting the books.

Or rather, that had been his plan until Tori came up with another one.

"You want to come over to my house after school? I was thinking, that way, we could maybe finish most of the assignment by tonight, and that leaves our weekend free to do something else." She had only been trying to help lighten his mood, after all, being best friends with him for nearly thirteen years meant you were somewhat in tune with your best friend's mood swings. She never minded working on assignments with him, but after seeing his temper flare more than usual during class, Tori was glad that she was his partner, rather than someone like Caswell. At least she could handle his outbursts. Still, she was slightly taken aback by Yuma's harsh tone, grumbling about 'not in the mood' for any more academics.

"Yuma, Tori was just making a suggestion—a reasonable one, I might add. Wouldn't you like to have your weekend free? That way, we could improve your dueling skills." Astral had materialized out of the key after hearing his partner's outburst. Yuma was usually cheerful and energetic, but for some reason he had been in an irritable mood since morning. He had wisely chosen to minimize chastising him after that.

"Shut up Astral, I'll deal with it later." Yuma mumbled. He and Tori were walking down the hallways by themselves today—Bronk had cleaning duty, and Cathy had apparently promised her parents to an early dinner. He slung his backpack over his shoulder, and, not even caring that it was pouring rain, walked resolutely out the doors, with Tori fumbling behind for an umbrella.

"Here Yuma, that way your hair won't get wet." Although, given the force of the wind, the umbrella was pretty much useless. As if the emphasize its point, a particularly strong gale blew past, soaking the teens even more and wrenching the umbrella from her hands. Not wanting to lose it, Tori hurriedly ran after it, only to be harshly yanked back. She was about to protest but the smoldering glare from Yuma's eyes stopped her voice from coming out.

"You idiot! Don't just run into the middle of the street like that! Remember what happened last time?" He glowered—the memory of Tori nearly getting run over by a truck, then meeting Kite and almost losing his soul—was still fresh in his mind. He hadn't meant to be so rough with her, but with his temper already close to the surface, this unwelcome memory only served to add fuel to the fire.

Tori winced slightly at his grip; she knew it had been a dumb thing to do, yet she could feel a part of her growing angry. Didn't Yuma trust her to be careful? And she had only been thinking of him when she'd suggested they go over to her house. Normally, she considered herself to be a patient person, but sometimes, there was only so much a person could take. "What's your problem, Yuma? For your information, yes, I know it was a street, but there weren't any cars coming! And I highly doubt Kite would be spending his days stalking you to and from school." She tried yanking her arm from his grip, but he only tightened it. "God, what are you so angry about? Is it because of that stupid project? Then why do you think I suggested working on it today?"

He couldn't answer her; couldn't tell her the truth about how, for whatever inexplicable reason, rainy days were always bad for him. They always made things more intense than they really were, and brought his worst memories to the surface. There was no way he'd ever tell her about his nightmares, about not saving her from that truck, or losing to Kite. Unconsciously, his grip tightened around her arm until she yelped in pain, and he let go, staring in shock at the red splotches on her arm after realizing what he'd been doing.

"Yuma...are you all right?" Tori was still agitated over his gruff behavior, but she was also worried. He seemed to be more distracted than usual, and her arm still hurt from where he'd grabbed her. For the first time in her life, she felt slightly threatened by his strange behavior, but her concern pushed through and she shoved the feeling into the back of her mind.

"I'm...fine. Sorry. It's just...it's been a long day." He sighed and ran a hand through his wet locks. "Look, why don't we just head over to your place and finish that stupid presentation." As those words left his mouth, he suddenly had a feeling that this was a bad idea. He wanted to just go home, take a shower and forget about everything, but he felt guilty for shooting Tori down when he knew she was just trying to help. Yet there was something in the back of his mind, whispering that he wasn't quite himself, that he should get away before things got worse.

'No, no, don't think about that. You're just pissed off because it's been a crappy day and you have homework over the weekend. Get a grip, Yuma.'

"Well, okay. Let's try and finish it up by tonight so we can do something fun tomorrow." Tori had only meant to brush his sodden bangs out of his face, but the second she touched his face, his hand flew up and grabbed her wrist tightly, earning a gasp from the girl. Yuma couldn't explain what happened; he only knew, that as soon as she touched him, something like electricity shot through him, and the raging beast inside roared free, if only for a second. Vaguely he knew that he was doing something wrong, that he was probably either scaring Tori or making her mad, but he couldn't pull himself away; the surge of adrenaline that came from his control over her was overwhelming, like a rush. For a one terrible second, he was seized with the desire to do something to her, to hurt her and control her and punish her for everything bad that had happened.

"Yu-Yuma? Are you sure you're okay?" Tori was starting to get a little frightened by his strange behavior; she wondered for a second if it was a Number causing it, but she didn't see anything, and in any case, Yuma had proved so far to be immune to their effects. His grip wasn't as strong as before, but the look in his eyes was something she'd never seen before. It was as if he was caught in some kind of internal torment with himself, teetering between rage and sorrow.

He snapped out of his thoughts suddenly and let go, scared that he had again lost control of his own actions. Maybe he really should just go home...but to change his mind again would only make Tori more suspicious. "Y-yeah. Let's go." Abruptly he lead the way, not caring that his clothes were soaked and Tori no longer had an umbrella. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner he could get out of this slump.


"Wait here, I'll get a towel for you." The house was quiet and dark, given that all the shades were drawn. Mrs. Meadows was still at work and wouldn't be due for another couple of hours, at least. Not that it really mattered to Yuma, the darkness in the room seemed to perfectly match his own mood. He groaned and rubbed his temples. What was wrong with him? Sure, he and Tori had their spats practically all the time, but that didn't excuse him for hurting her. They hadn't run into any Number troubles recently and yesterday had been perfectly fine, so why was he feeling so antsy? He wanted to move, pace, get around and do something; his blood was boiling, and he couldn't figure out why.

"Yuma, are you feeling all right?" Astral's voice quietly echoed beside him. "You seem rather...restless today. Are you worried about something?"

"I don't know, Astral. I...I just don't like it when it rains, okay?"

"The weather? I suppose I can see why it makes humans feel...uneasy." Still, Astral was reluctant to accept that answer; rain may have made things a little more difficult, but it surely couldn't be the reason why Yuma was so irritable, why he had lashed out at Tori. Furthermore, he could have sworn he felt traces of that familiar black aura that surrounded duelists when they were possessed by Numbers...but when he focused on Yuma, there was nothing. A quick check inside the key showed all the Numbers (even Black Mist) to be dormant, waiting inside the structure. 'Maybe it's just my imagination, but in any case, I should keep a closer eye on him...'

"Ah, Yuma, sorry to keep you waiting. Here." Yuma caught the towel just in time; it was pink and fluffy, and smelled vaguely like some typical, girly shampoo that Tori probably used all the time. He slowly started to mop up his hair and wipe his face off, but when he caught a whiff of the shampoo scent again, something pulsed through him and he felt his agitation rise. He quickly wiped his arms off, while trying to see if Tori noticed his grimace. Luckily, she seemed to be more preoccupied with drying the floor, but it hadn't escaped Astral's sharp eyes. The alien said nothing, however; he wouldn't make any accusations until he was sure something was wrong.

"Um, did you want to borrow some of my clothes? I think you could probably wear one of my t-shirts..." Tori suddenly realized that a towel was probably insufficient to dry their clothes; she could change easily, but Yuma would prove to be more of a challenge.

"No thanks." A curt reply. She didn't notice that he wasn't meeting her eyes.

"Oh, well, if you're sure...give me a minute, I'll go change real quick." She collected both their towels and tossed them into the hamper, quickly rummaging through her closet for a top and skirt. Her back was turned, so she didn't notice Yuma silently entering her room until she was practically in her underwear. She gave a startled cry and grabbed her clothes to cover herself up, cheeks flaming in anger and embarrassment. "Yuma! What the hell, I'm changing! Wait outside, why don't you!"

He knew it had been wrong, but he couldn't take waiting around in the living room anymore; he had to move around, not sit still. Mumbling a quick "sorry", he averted his eyes and leaned against her doorframe, trying to get his breathing under control. Seeing his best friend like that, half-naked and wet, with hair dripping down her back...

...She was screaming and writhing under him, hair plastered all over her face as he thrust harshly into her, sobs morphing into moans of pleasure...

'No! Stop! Yuma, you sick fuck, what are you doing?' The sudden fantasy stirred something inside him, but it wasn't exactly pleasant. Why, why was he having such thoughts towards Tori? She was his best friend, and maybe more; why would he get pleasure from hurting her? He bit his lip until it drew blood, but he didn't care; he had to focus on something else, even the bitter taste of his own blood, rather than those perverted fantasies. He should leave; go before something else happened and he would be unable to control him—

"Yuma, you can come in now. You have your notes, right?" He jerked his head up at her voice and stoically sat his bag down, pulling out his datapad and tablet. Tori was already setting up a new presentation, clicking around and adding images to their notes. Yuma was surprised that she did not comment further on his intrusion earlier; there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between them that the sooner they got down to business, the better. He could feel his mind glazing over, settling into the dull numbness that overtook him whenever schoolwork seemed to be involved. Perhaps focusing on this presentation was a good thing—he could feel himself calming down slightly and actually getting work done. It was silent in the room for a while, only to be punctuated by the occasional "is this date correct" or "I don't think we should use that photo". Tori mostly took care of the layout and editing, while Yuma was content to to just provide notes and check for facts; he didn't consider himself to be particularly artistic, and Tori was just better with computers and programs anyway. The tension from earlier seemed to have died down, and Yuma was just beginning to think that they might actually finish this presentation early, and open up their weekend.

That is, until he made the mistake of opening his mouth.

He couldn't even remember what he said—something dumb like "can you make it look more organized" or "that's a wrong fact", but in any case, it was shocking how such a seemingly insignificant comment could quickly escalate into an all-out shouting match. Tori was never the type of girl to back down, and Yuma could feel his aggravation skyrocket, because really, why was she making such a big deal out of this anyway? All the frustration he'd felt since seeing the gray clouds this morning came roaring back with a vengeance, and the beast inside his chest strained, threatening to break free; he could literally feel himself shaking from trying to hold himself back.

"Oh my god Yuma, seriously, what the hell? I don't know what's eating at you today, but how about not taking it out on me? If you think you can do a better job, then you're more than welcome to take over!" Just because Yuma was having a bad day didn't mean Tori was going to let him push her around. They'd been friends long enough for her to know that he wouldn't back down, just as she'd never admit she was wrong. She may have cared for him greatly, even had a crush on on him, but she wasn't going to put up with his crap any longer. "You should be grateful I even bothered to take time out of my Friday afternoon to do this with you—"

"Well no one said you had to! This was your idea in the first place!" Yuma was practically breathing in her face, they were so close together. "I didn't even want to do it today!" Red eyes glared back into hazel ones, and he was struck with the desire to hurt again, this time coursing through his body stronger than ever. Yes, she should be punished; yelling at him for something that wasn't even his fault, didn't she understand how much pressure he was under right now? The rain, the Numbers, Astral, Kite, her...there was a pounding in his head and somewhere, in the back of his mind, it was ringing, ringing...

"Are you saying it's my—" Tori never finished her sentence before she was roughly pushed backwards, landing hard on her bed. Before she could even lash out at Yuma, he was already above her, hands firmly planted on her shoulders to prevent her from moving. His face was nearly expressionless, but it was his eyes that sent a wave of cold fear running through her body; they almost seemed demonic, full of rage and hatred and something else that she couldn't quite identify.

She knew, then, before her mind even fully processed everything that had happened, that she was in trouble.

"You. Talk. Too. Much." A near-feral growl accompanied his words, and Tori couldn't help the shiver of panic. Yuma was never like this—even at their worst arguments, they never hit each other, let alone pin one person on the bed. She was seriously scared now; this was a whole other side of Yuma that never existed before, and she didn't know what to expect, except for the the worst. She tried to push him off, but he simply grabbed both her wrists in one hand and pinned them above her head, effectively rendering them useless. As if anticipating her moves, he sat on her legs, preventing her from kicking him; now she was really trapped. An urge to cry suddenly overwhelmed her, but Tori refused to give in; crying wasn't going to help her out of this situation, and she didn't want to appear weak. If she couldn't fight her way out, then maybe she could talk.

"Yuma, stop! What are you doing?" She struggled against his hold in vain, but she had spirit—he'd give her that much. Yuma wasn't sure what he was doing anymore, but he didn't really care—it was as if some part of him just switched off, and he was watching through a screen, seeing himself-but-not-himself doing things. Instead, he focused on her features, how her large eyes were damp yet she refused to cry, the soft skin that just begged to be touched, silky hair that was already coming undone...he shuddered and leaned down, breathing down her neck and taking in her scent. The action stunned her, for she stopped yelling and struggling, perhaps too afraid of what might happen next.

"Yuma! What's going on?" Astral finally intervened, having not been able to stand by and watch Yuma hurt one of his best friends. He did not quite understand what was going on, but it was clear from Tori's fear that Yuma had gone too far. "Stop it, Yuma, something's wrong with you!"

"Shut up. Why don't you go back inside your key for a while?" Yuma had never tried it, but he was the owner of the key, so...

"What are you—!" Unbelievably, Astral was being forced back inside the key, against his own will. To make matters worse, Yuma had somehow blocked him from leaving, meaning the alien was helpless to do anything other than watch his partner. Fear and disgust ran through him, knowing that whatever happened now, it wasn't going to be good. A low chuckle behind him brought him face-to-face with his evil doppelganger.

"Now now, why don't you just sit back and enjoy the show?" Black Mist curled a tendril around Astral's face, in a mock-loving fashion. Unconsciously, Astral stepped back; was he the cause of Yuma's behavior? Had Black Mist somehow taken over while he wasn't noticing?

"You. Whatever it is you are doing to Yuma, stop it right now." The Number simply laughed louder and all his tentacles waved rapidly.

"Me? What makes you think I'm the one causing all this?" A slow grin spread across his face.

"Yuma is never like this; I don't know what you're trying to accomplish by forcing him on Tori, but rest assured, I will stop you." Astral's gaze narrowed on the sickly black creature before him, who was once again an almost carbon-copy of himself.

This only caused Black Mist's grin to spread wider, giving him an even more psychotic expression. "Fine, go ahead, try it! But it won't matter what you do to me, the events will continue to unfold."

Astral felt a wave of horror run through him. "...What do you mean, it will continue?"

"Do I have to spell it out for you? What I mean is, has it ever occurred to you that maybe, this is all that brat's own doing? I'm just an innocent spectator, believe me! If I really were in control, do you think I'd be shooting the breeze with you right now?" At this, Black Mist propped himself up on his numerous appendages, as if to get a better view.

"But, Yuma has never...he wouldn't..."

Black Mist oozed over to Astral, an almost-pitying expression on his face. "My poor, naïve little Astral. You obviously haven't been around humans very long, have you? All it takes is just one little push, and even the nicest kid is capable of unspeakable atrocities."

"You are saying that...Yuma...is acting...willingly?" A wave of despair and anger coursed through Astral. How could this be happening? Was it because Astral had been careless in their course of chasing down Numbers? Had he unknowingly done something to cause Yuma to snap like this? If only he could talk to Yuma, to try and understand why. He sank onto his knees, not even caring that Black Mist's tendrils were holding him up.

"Now, now, no need to be such a downer! If I were you, I'd just sit back and watch; after all, there really isn't anything you can do now, is there?"


Outside in the real space, Tori shuddered as her mind ran a million miles an hour, trying to figure the how/what/why of the situation. How did it even get to this? One minute they were finishing the presentation and the next she found herself thrown harshly onto the bed, and now she was trying her hardest to not panic and stop Yuma from r—

'Don't go there Tori, Yuma wouldn't, he...' She couldn't bring herself to think of what he might very well be capable of, even though the situation did not look promising. She had to hope, believe that if she could manage to calm him down, she would be able to get out of this relatively unscathed. "Yuma, wait—"

He cut her off with a rough kiss—their first, and nothing at all like what she'd imagined it to be. Instead of whispered sweet-nothings and gentle touches, it was harsh and demanding; she tried turning away but his arms stopped her from turning her head. She could feel his tongue gliding along her lips and demanding access inside, but she kept them tightly shut. Still, she needed air, and the second she opened her mouth to gulp in the oxygen, Yuma wasted no time in shoving his tongue in.

"Nngg...!" Yuma felt her cries vibrating through his mouth, which was strangely erotic. In fact, the whole situation was turning him on greatly, though he did not realize it. The sense of power and control over Tori, feeling her slowly submitting under him, was addicting; he wanted more, to feel her more, hear her cry, and taste her. Already he was aggressively exploring the inside of her mouth, battling her tongue for control. He couldn't help but moan slightly as he tasted her saliva; a mix of fruit and flower, sweet and innocent. After a few more seconds he reluctantly pulled away, needing air himself. Below him, Tori was panting, her lips slightly bruised from the rough treatment and her eyes shiny with tears.

"You taste good." He dipped his head down, this time tracing along her neck. "You smell good too," he mumbled, taking in her scent of that girly-shampoo and freesias. He could feel her pulse speeding up, and her breathing hitched as he lightly nibbled at her collarbone.

"Yu-Yuma, please, stop this..." Tori had told herself she wasn't going to cry, but this was just too much. Tears started dripping down her cheeks, partly from fear but also partly from shame; even though she knew this was wrong, a small part of her mind felt pleasure from the ministrations. She was confused and disgusted at herself for getting aroused by such treatment, but there wasn't much she could do to fight her traitorous body; already she could feel herself getting damp between her legs and surges of heat in her stomach. Even so, she prayed that he would snap out of it before it was too late—that is, until Yuma shifted against her body and she felt something rigid digging into her thigh. What little hope she had left quickly drained out of her, only to be replaced with a very real, cold, dread.

Yuma groaned as she bucked against him, feeling the softness of her flesh against his hard and throbbing length. He needed to do something about the pressure soon, but not right now. Sitting up, he proceeded to shove her blouse up, exposing her pale torso and polka-dot bra. She shrieked—either from embarrassment or fear, he couldn't tell—and half-begged, half-sobbed for him to not do this, but to no avail. He slowly traced a circle on her stomach, enjoying her smooth skin and warm body. The action seem to cause a renewed strength in her, for she suddenly started fighting against his grip with all her strength.

"No! Stop, Yuma, stop this right now! Please, don't—" Panic had kicked in full-force now, as her mind finally accepted his intentions. Still, she had never been super-athletic, and although she managed to shift her legs slightly, her arms were still firmly held at bay. 'Oh my god, this can't be happening, Yuma can't, he can't...' Tori cried out as her bra was shoved aside, exposing her breasts, already stiff from Yuma's previous actions. "NO! Yuma, please don't do this!" Tears were streaming down her face now, humiliated and ashamed that she had let him get this far with her. He wasn't even being particularly gentle, grazing her nipples with his teeth and kneading her breasts with his free hand. She let out a half-choked sob when he bit down, pain mixed with pleasure coursing through her veins.

Yuma said nothing despite her teary protests; he had long since stopped caring about the consequences of his actions. Besides, he could hear the slight moans that she was trying to hold back in her voice, which meant that to some extent, it was pleasurable to her too, so why should he stop? He quickly leaned down and captured her mouth with his again to muffle her cries, lest the screams started drawing the attention of neighbors. His arm was starting to tire slightly from having to hold her wrists together, but the ability to ravish her at his pleasure more than made up for the discomfort. Unable to hold his needs in for much longer, he quickly worked to unbuckle his belt and flipped up her skirt, revealing white panties with a pink ribbon trim. White. The color of innocence, much like Tori herself; except at this moment, she had been reduced to a teary, screaming mess, her struggles getting weaker with each second. Yuma was unsure if this was due to her slowly giving in, or if she was simply getting tired. Regardless, he pulled her panties down just enough to give him access, and unceremoniously shoved himself inside in one hard thrust.

"Ah!" Tori couldn't help the scream that escaped her mouth, although it was more from shock than pain. Still, she wouldn't deny that it hurt; Yuma had broken through her barrier all too fast, not even bothering to give her time to adjust. He didn't seem too concerned with her well-being, as he immediately set forth a fairly quick pace. Her hoarse sobs mingled with his moans, having all but given up trying to fight his actions. Nearly all her strength had been depleted, and at this point she just wanted the whole thing to be over as soon as possible, even if it meant cooperating with him. Despite this being her first time, her body seemed to know instinctively what to do, hips thrusting forward clumsily to meet his. A knot of fire seemed to be building inside her, dampening the pain and increasing her pleasure with each thrust. "Yuma, no..." Her cries were futile at this point, especially since she could no longer stop the moans that kept escaping her mouth. The pain was all but gone, replaced by a burning need to satiate the tightness inside her. It was a feeling she had never experienced before, but her animalistic instinct toward release grew stronger and stronger. She whimpered as Yuma pushed her particularly hard against the pillows.

Hot. It was so unbelievably hot and tight inside her. His eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head from entering her alone, but that soon proved to be insufficient. Still locking her wrists above her head, Yuma planted his remaining elbow on the side of her face, watching her closely for her reactions. When he first entered her, Tori had screamed in pain, but soon enough he noticed that she had stopped fighting him, and was instead meeting his hips with every thrust, increasing the pleasure. Her protests had also stopped, instead she was panting and moaning along with him, almost in sync. He kissed her again, and this time, much to his surprise, she responded back just as fervently. The pace was reaching its feverish peak, and the faster he drove into her, the tighter she squeezed him. Before he knew what was happening, her entire body stiffened and she let out a loud moan as she clamped down on him tightly, causing him to come hard inside her. He was gripping her so tightly that it left bruises, but that was the last thing on his mind as a white-hot pleasure overtook him, leaving him exhausted. He finally let go of her arms and collapsed, struggling to control his thoughts as the entirety of the situation started to come into focus.

Tori wasn't sure what to do—she could kick and scream and throw Yuma off, now that she was finally able to move, but the orgasm had left her weak and hazy. Furthermore, she wasn't even sure what was going to happen; did he even realize what he had been doing? Gradually, the reality of the situation hit her full force, and she started to cry, not even caring that Yuma was still on top of her. Here she was, not even in high school, and already her virginity was forcefully taken by her best friend. She tried to say something, to make a noise, but all she could do was sob pitifully.

Slowly, Yuma pushed himself off, his face strangely blank. What could he say—'sorry I raped you when I was in a bad mood'? The horror of what he had done was creeping up on him, slow like a freight train, but unstoppable. He shook uncontrollably as he stared down at his best friend, her clothes dirty and torn, tear tracks staining her cheeks, blood and other fluids dripping down her legs and soiling the sheets below them. Hot tears flowed from eyes, but he didn't even notice, not when he was so desperately trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. It had all seemed like a blur when he looked back, as if he had been on some sort of autopilot. He felt like he was going to be sick. Without another word, he bolted into the bathroom and threw up into the toilet, leaving Tori to shakily gather up her bloody sheets to wash; there was no way she'd ever tell her mother what had happened.


"Aww, over already? And I was so enjoying it..." Black Mist sighed and lowered himself to the floor, while Astral stood shell-shocked, still trying to process what he had just witnessed. He didn't understand many human functions, but even he could see that Yuma had clearly violated Tori against her will. Sadness and confusion flooded him, but he willed himself to remain calm; Yuma would most likely be confused and ashamed, and he would need all the support he could get to resolve this mess. Tentatively, he reached out, and discovered he could exit the key again.

"Yuma...are...are you all right?" The boy didn't even meet his gaze, only leaning over the toilet again and emptying what little was left in his stomach. Astral winced inwardly. He had never seen Yuma like this, so full of anguish and pain; clearly, he deeply regretted what he had done to Tori.

A sudden door slam made everyone jump. Apparently, Mrs. Meadows had come home earlier than anticipated. Yuma's eyes grew wide, realizing the situation. Stumbling to his feet, he quickly flushed the toilet and washed his face so the worst of the redness was faded, and made a beeline for the door, avoiding Mrs. Meadow's eyes.

"Oh, Yuma! I didn't realize you were over. Are you going home now? Would you like a ride? It's still pouring out there." Yuma shook his head vigorously, mumbled a "no, thank you" and was out the door before his shoes were even fully on. The rain mixed with the wind chilled him thoroughly, but Yuma felt like he deserved it; punishment, after all for his sins. Astral could only keep by him silently, unsure of what to say.

Mrs. Meadows sighed as she put her umbrella away. What a dreary day it had been—the rain had not let up at all, even for a minute! Interestingly, her daughter seemed to be in the shower—she hadn't even bothered accompanying Yuma out, which was a bit unusual, given their bond. Still, she gave it little thought, and started to prepare dinner. "Tori, dear, when you're done showering, there's dinner!"

"Y-yeah mom, I'll be right there!" She fought to keep her voice from quivering as the cold water ran over her. Normally, she liked it warm-hot, but somehow she needed the coldness to keep her from going completely crazy. Her nether regions stung every time the water washed over it, and it took all her willpower to not breakdown completely and start full-out crying in the shower. Still, a few tears escaped as she gingerly washed the blood off her thighs. Unable to withstand it much longer, she curled into a ball as the water beat down on her back, muffling her sobs.


"Yuma, you're soaking wet! What happened to your umbrella?" Kari chastised her brother as he entered the front door, dripping water. Without so much as a glance, however, he hightailed it to the bathroom and slammed the door shut, leaving Kari in a daze. "Geeze, what's his problem," she grumbled and mopped up the puddles, deciding to question his behavior at dinner later.

He turned the water to hot, scalding hot, so much that the bathroom instantly filled with steam. His skin screamed in pain as the water almost burned him, but he didn't seem to feel it at all; he clawed at his own arms until they were nearly bloody, as if trying to frantically wash all traces of his crime from his body. No matter what, it would never be enough; he would always be stained, always dirty.

"Yuma...it will be all right. I promise." Astral couldn't bear to see Yuma hurting himself any longer. Even if he had done a despicable act, punishing himself would not make it any better.

"No Astral, you don't understand. It'll never be better." For the first time since leaving, he spoke, his voice wavering as tears started flowing unchecked. He slammed his hand against the wall in anger, not caring if Kari or his grandma heard. He'd just violated Tori in the worst way possible, broken their trust and everything their relationship had been made of. Outside, a flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed by a bellow of thunder.

Somehow, rainy days were always bad.


A/N: Well, shit, I think I'm going to hell for writing this. Um, really, I like both Yuma and Tori a lot, it's just that I wondered how it would be if Yuma really lost control and just sort of went all-out. The whole 'Yuma doesn't like rainy days' was just sort of a thing I made up, considering that he seems to have a lot of those types of 'moments' when it rains (getting run over by a truck, crying, etc.). There will actually be an alternative plot to this theme of angry!sex, which will be the next chapter, so it will basically be another version with the same plot only with a less-depressing ending. Yeah.