Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis in anyway nor am I profiting from writing this piece.
Warning: Implied abuse/rape, very light non-graphic violence, light yaoi (male/male)
Pairings: Hiyoshi/Mukahi, implied Oshitari/Mukahi
Note: I wrote this really quickly and it's almost midnight so please excuse any silly mistakes. I have no idea why I wrote this and it probably could be a lot more emotional than it is. I might go back and re-write it one day, but I might not.
"There is a great streak of violence in every human being. If it is not channeled and understood, it will break out in war or in madness."
-Sam Peckinpah
Hiyoshi was sitting at his desk, starring out the window as the rain fell down. He tapped his pen on his notebook and sighed. He set his pen down and ran his fingers through his hair. Something didn't seem right. He stood up and walked over to his bed, grabbing his phone off of his nightstand. He sat down on the edge of his bed and waited for his phone to load.
0 new messages.
He bit his lip and opened up his contacts. He scrolled down a bit and hit the one he was looking for. He listened to the rings and when he got Mukahi's voice mail, he snapped his phone shut and shoved it into his pocket. He jumped off his bed and rushed downstairs and that's when the door bell rang. Hiyoshi pulled it open and let out a sigh of relief when he saw Mukahi standing there. Mukahi's head was hung low and his arms were covered in bruises, but he was still standing.
"Hiyoshi… I'm cold."
Hiyoshi moved out of the way for Mukahi to walk in, but the acrobat didn't move. Hiyoshi tilted his head and gently grabbed Mukahi's hand, silently helping him in. Mukahi stood at the doorway while Hiyoshi closed the door before the wind did.
"I'm going to get you a towel," Hiyoshi said softly, knowing what to do. He turned to go, but he felt Mukahi's hand pulling at the back of his t-shirt.
"Don't go," he pleaded. He lifted his head and Hiyoshi's heart almost broke in two. This had happened before. It happens after Mukahi and Oshitari lose any matches, official or practice, and it happens whenever Mukahi got a confession from a girl. Hiyoshi didn't know what had happened this time, but it must have been pretty bad because Mukahi's face had blood on it.
"Sempai," Hiyoshi said softly as Mukahi took a step forward and wrapped his arms around Hiyoshi, resting his head against that safe, broad chest.
"Please. Don't go."
Hiyoshi put his hands between them and gently moved Mukahi back. "You need to change," Hiyoshi said as he grabbed Mukahi's hand, lacing his fingers with his, and leading him towards the stairs. Mukahi's pants swished with each step up the stairs and his shirt rubbed uncomfortably against his skin.
Hiyoshi felt like he was leading a wet, sick dog down his hallway. Mukahi used to come by during a storm just to get him to dance in the rain with him. Now it seems like the only time he sees Mukahi smile is when Oshitari is around. Even with everything that man did to Mukahi, the little acrobat still loved him.
When they got to Hiyoshi's room, Hiyoshi helped Mukahi sit down on the bed, watching his sempai wince, and then went back to lock the door. He was home alone, but he knew it would make Mukahi feel safer that way. It always did.
Hiyoshi walked into his bathroom for a second and grabbed a small, white towel and a first aid kit from his medicine cabinet. He came back out and pulled a pair of sweatpants and one of his old Hyotei gym shirts before walking over to the bed. He made a dent in the sheets as he sat down next to Mukahi, placing everything he had picked up behind his sempai. He grabbed Mukahi's arms gently and pulled them over his head.
"Just stay still," Hiyoshi whispered as pulled Mukahi's shirt up over his head. Mukahi whimpered, but seemed relieved when he could put his arms down. Hiyoshi reached behind Mukahi, grabbed the towel, and gently ran it over his chest, back, and arms.
"Hiyoshi."
"Tell me if it hurts."
Hiyoshi set the towel down and grabbed the first aid kit. He opened it up and grabbed an ace bandage for Mukahi's wrist, it was swollen and limp. Mukahi winced as Hiyoshi set it back in place and wrapped it. Hiyoshi didn't even bother to ask if he wanted to go to a hospital, Mukahi always says, "No!" and then storms out whenever he asks. Hiyoshi figured it was better to be there and don't ask questions than to try and get him real help.
"Hiyoshi."
"Hm?" Hiyoshi pushed the hooks gently into place and grabbed a few Band-Aids out of the first aid kit. He turned Mukahi's head and saw that his neck was bright red. Just what the hell had Oshitari done this time? He opened one of the Band-Aids and gently pressed it against one of the cuts on Mukahi's face. The blood had dried; there was no reason to wipe it off now because he would just hurt Mukahi when he tried to dry it.
"Hiyoshi."
"Too hard?" Hiyoshi asked as he froze in place. He knew better than to touch Mukahi too hard when he's like this. He was like a broken porcelain doll that can't be picked up all at once because the pieces would fall out of his hands. He needed to do it piece by piece so it wouldn't fall to the ground when he picked it up again.
Mukahi gently shook his head. "Hiyoshi. I just feel like calling your name."
"Why my name? Why not his? Yuushi… Yuushi… Yuushi…" Hiyoshi hadn't even meant to say it, but he had. And the second he did Mukahi had grabbed his shirt and pushed him to the ground. He raised his hand, the one that wasn't wrapped, and raised it up high just to slam it back down into Hiyoshi's jaw.
"You don't know him! He loves me!" Mukahi yelled, tears beginning to blur his vision. "He loves me…"
Hiyoshi huffed. "Love? He rapes you."
Mukahi punched him again. "No, he doesn't. He just… I'm just…" Mukahi punched him for a third time. "I'm so stupid, I'm weak, and I can't do anything right…! I deserve it."
"No, you don't!"
Mukahi bit his lip and rested his head against Hiyoshi's chest. His back was arched so badly that it hurt. "Yes, I do. He says I do. Yuushi's always right. H-he loves me and just doesn't –"
"No! Stop it! You don't need him, he only hurts you."
Mukahi's eyes glazed over for a second. This happened all the time, almost as often as Oshitari hurting Mukahi. Mukahi would come over, Hiyoshi would help him, and Mukahi's fragile pieces would just be stepped on again and again until you couldn't even pick them up.
"Then why do you do this?" Mukahi mumbled into Hiyoshi's chest, gripping his shirt harder and harder. "Why do you help me every time even though you know I'll go straight back to him? Why do you do this when you know I love him?"
Hiyoshi grabbed Mukahi by the back of the neck, not caring if he broke this doll again or not. He slammed his lips against his so hard Mukahi couldn't think straight. The only things that mattered were his hands on Hiyoshi's chest, that tongue, and those strong hands pulling him closer. A tear rolled down Mukahi's cheek as he softened his grip on Hiyoshi's shirt. Hiyoshi pulled back and kissed Mukahi one more time. When Mukahi began letting his tears flow, Hiyoshi sat them both up and pulled Mukahi into his chest.
"I do this because you don't deserve him. I do this because you deserve better. I do this because I know you don't love him. I do this because I love you."
Mukahi closed his eyes. "Hiyoshi. Hiyoshi. Hiyoshi." He kept calling his name, even as his junior picked him up, put him back on the bed, and continued to treat him. He changed Mukahi and gently helped him lie down. But even though he had said his name a thousand times that night, the last thing on Mukahi's lips was "Yuushi" as he drifted into sleep with Hiyoshi's arms protecting him.
Hiyoshi could try to put this doll together a thousand different ways, but it was always going to stay broken.
A/N: I wrote some pretty bad things into "Love's Weird Like That" but I think this tops Atobe's father (if you know what I'm talking about). I feel a little odd posting this as angst/romance because it isn't really romantic... Whatever, I'm off to go get some sleep.