4/23/10

A|N: Sooooooooooo I wrote it about 2 years ago. Being the perv that I am, I had to make it sexual. No offense to anyone who is sensitive to abuse and child sexual abuse. Just a musing on why Kyoya feels so much pressure to be perfect.

"I'm-I'm sorry f-father," the young black-haired boy sobbed, kneeling in front of his parent.

"Useless fuck," his father growled. "What the hell is this?" He waved the boy's report card in his face. "Satisfactory in behavior and poor in participation? At this rate, you're going to be the biggest failure of the Otori." He raised his hand and brought it down with a crash against the boy's face.

The boy tipped to the side, ears ringing and sobs heaving from his chest.

"Get up," his father ordered. He yanked the boy back onto his knees and delivered a swift backhand, knocking the boy over to the other side. He pulled him to his knees again. He repeated this several more times until the boy lay on the floor blubbering in a pool of his own blood that streamed from his nose.

"Don't disgrace the family name," his father said sternly. "Your brothers were at the top of their classes. You should do the same and even more if you want to impress me." He turned to walk out of the room but paused before he closed the door. Without turning back to look at the boy, he added, "Worthless."

The boy groped the cold tile floor of his father's office, searching for his glasses. When he finally spotted a glint a few feet away and started crawling towards it, he was suddenly blocked by a dark form. In his concentration, he did not realize that his father had returned.

His father grabbed the boy's face with one hand and turned it from side to side, observing him intently.

"F-father?" the boy asked apprehensively, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Just checking your face."

The boy sniffled. Blood had begun to clot in his nostrils, making his nose congested.

"Making sure I didn't damage it," his father continued, trailing off. "You are my best-looking son."

The boy didn't answer. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the ringing that still remained in his ears. Instead, he heard the clanking of a metal belt buckle coming undone.

The boy opened his eyes in fear. Is he using the belt again?

His father tilted his chin up, forcing the two to make eye contact. "You've made me very disappointed today, Kyoya."

The young boy closed his eyes again, expecting to hear the sound of the belt pulling out of its loops, whipping through the air, hitting his back, shredding his clothes, bruising his flesh…

A zip and a rustle. The metal buckle hit the floor with a metallic ring.

The boy shot his eyes open at the feeling of a rounded knob against his lips. He looked up at his father in confusion.

"Do it," his father ordered.

The boy swallowed then blindly took his father into his mouth.

A pair of twisted glasses lay on the tile in the dimly-lit room amidst sounds of labored breathing.

Kindergarten was the first and last time Kyoya had received anything below "excellent" on his report card.