Title: To Ashes
Author: Yoko-cw
Summary: Abuse Can Push Even The Strongest Person To Their Limits.
POV: Kurama.
It's ridiculous. Ludicrous. Positively absurd, to think that such a thing would happen. That I allowed this to overcome my very being, that would be it. I'd lose it all.
But, it happened. No denial, no change. It's happened.
I don't recall how it began. You'd think it would be clear; the first time he screamed at me or struck me... All I know is it was shortly before my mother. I had to hide the bruises at the funeral. My stepfather should not have been allowed to lay a hand on me. I must have fought back at first...I must have. But eventually, I just broke. Shattered. Crash.
Pieces of me lie around somewhere. I'll never find them.
It all got very difficult to conceal, the black eyes, bruises along my neck and cheekbones and arms. "I fell," I would grin at my comrades. I never was one to be clumst. They just refused to let me be. Eventually, I lost my temper. "Drop it!" I glared daggers at the foolish Kuwabarra, who'd tried to pull my sleeve up. Fucking brilliant. I sighed, stirring my coffee for no reason, making no eye contact with the two humans who sat bewildered across from me. "Well fuck then," Yususke, eloquent as ever, "We're just saying that you've gotten weird. Fucking weird." His eyes focused on me and I felt rage swelling in me like blood to a wound.
Yusuke snorted, slouching against his chair with his arms crossed in his usual tough facade. "It's nothing. I told you." "Nothing?" He sneered. With no warning he lurched forward, grabbing my chin and pressing his thumb (too hard) into the black and green mark beneath my eye. "Ah!" Fuck it hurt. I jerked away, hissing through my teeth. "Yup," he said with hard eyes, "Sure looks like nothing to me." I couldn't look at him. I sat staring at my bangs (ugly and red), hand resting against my bruise as though I could just wipe it away. It wasn't made of paint, though. I could only hide what wasn't so obvious. "Please," I sighed, "Just...stop it..." "I can't," his eyes did not soften, "not when you can't even take care of yourself."
His hands were rough. We sat in his plain bedroom, fingers plucking at the tangles in my hair, pulling carelessly at the soft fabric of my shirt. My skin grew cold from the air. Feeling naked and ashamed and disgusting, I played uselessly at with my hair. He threw my shirt onto the floor (wrinkles) and he grew gentle. He stroked the dark blue that covered my ribcage and arms ((step) father's boot) and the criss crossing ache along my back ((step)fathers belt). "Why do you let him do this?" I couldn't answer. I didn't know.
"...He broke me..." A chill raised goosebumps along my arms. Yusuke sighed, wiped a hand down his face, exasperated. I was a such a disppointment. ("piece of shit" stepfather said). "...I have to go," I breathed, slowly pulling on my shirt and shoes, "I will call you later." I was lying. He tousled his hair, running a hand down the back of his neck. "Yeah. Sure 'Rama." Odd nickname.
I went to a cold home; still air and the stench of sake mixed with rage. (I smelled my own fear) 'Who am I?' He stole my identity. Whoever I used to be lay upon the floor with the dirty dishes and clothes and broken glass that sliced my skin. When bloodshot eyes held my own, I covered my face, trembling without control and wishing I could remember who I was before this. 'I want Yusuke...' My (step) father sneered, "Where have you been?" "...Out for a walk." (Step)faher was not satisified with that. A glass whizzed by my head and the wall weeped sake. ""Liar!" He grabbed my arm, a fist struck me, "Fucking liar." My lips bled and my teeth ached. He hit my face and I felt a tender spot in my cheek burst in pain. Pain...Pain...
(Step) Father was so angry. So damned angry. I screamed and felt my body shake as I fell (was thrown) against the wall. "What...what have I done?" He hated me so much. It hurt. It all hurt! Fists struck sore and new spots. '...I want mother...'
When he was done, I lay upon the floor, feeling utterly broken. And angry.
A whirlwind of emotion hit me and I was once again filled with the sour taste of rage. 'You will pay for what I have become...' I grit my teeth and my palms bled. I hid beneath my hair again.
'I will be avenged...!'
I leaned against the wall, my knee kicked in the wrong way. My breath came out in rasping pants. My teeth ached and I spat blood. How dare he! How dare I allow this? My demon screamed; Yoko wanted blood. The pain still registered.
When the fist came the last time from my left, it did not make its mark. A bundle of thorns and vines instead caught the pain for me. I grinned when he cried out, aware of the red staining my teeth. The pain he felt now...it was nothing compared to what he'd done to me. Nothing compared to what I was going to do to him.
Blood. The smell of blood filled my senses and I could feel it dripping from my fingertips (erotic). "What..." he rasps, "...What are you?" He was afraid; excellent. I wanted to be his nightmare. I refused to be the scared little Suichi he had come to know. I refused to be his punching bag. "My name is Kurama." Blood sprays across my face.
I buried him beneath my sycamore.