Hinata staggered on his journey back home occasionally stopping to catch his breath and then walking quickly again afraid that Aoi would come back to torture him more. He would flinch at every noise he heard and his breathing would pick up each time he passed a dark corner or spot, as if his tormentor was waiting there in the shadows for the moment hinata would lower his guard so he could attack him again.
The young boy knew all too well than to think about the pain unless he wanted to give up the control he had over his feet where he would collapse and his mind would shatter into a million pieces. He hadn't even noticed that he had arrived at his house until his key was turning in the lock and he opened the door to find the house quiet and completely dark. He slumped against the doorframe relief flooding his body. He was home, he was finally home.
He quietly walked inside locking the door behind him; it must have been around 1 in the morning when he arrived at his house. There was no 'Welcome home' from his sweet gentle mother or any pitter patter of small feet running around from his adorably obnoxious little sister, and honestly he was glad. Had they seen him right now in this state they would already know that something bad must have happened to him based on his tattered clothes and his pained face. He didn't want them to see him like this. They didn't need to know about anything that happened to him that night. He would keep it to himself, he didn't want to concern his mom, and his little sister was far too young to even understand the situation he had been through. So he will shut his lips tight, not uttering a word to anyone about this, he will continue living his days acting as if nothing had happened. He will try his hardest to get back to normal, to return to the time before he was forcefully taken.
He nodded slowly to himself, calmer now that he had a plan, a goal. His mother, his sister or any of his friends would never need to know of this. They could stay like they are now, happy, safe and innocent. Even though he himself was flawed, stained and unworthy of their trust. And everything would be fine, he would make it fine.
He took a shaky uneven step into the room, and quickly turned back to make sure he had locked the door. The lock seemed so much flimsy than it had ever seemed in the past. He wondered if it could actually hold up to an intruder that really wanted to come in. He fought the urge to barricade the door and decided that the lock would be enough.
He took in a deep breath as he observed the quite room; he was so familiar with the living room seeing as he's been here every day in his life. He should feel like home, should feel safe, but instead he felt like an outsider. Like a foreign contaminant that was a danger in polluting the warm place of his home.
He felt dirty, so dirty. His skin itched.
First he had to get up those stairs. Each step was done gingerly, but quietly without even the slight whimper of pain. The black dots danced behind his vision, blooming briefly then disappearing just as quickly with each pause to rest. He forced his legs to move him up until finally he had reached the last step. Hinata stumbled blindly towards the bathroom where had stood earlier that morning, getting ready for school without a care in the world. Soon he was inside and locked the door behind him with shaky hands.
He stood in the middle of his bathroom, his back turned towards the mirror as he was afraid of looking at himself and to see the mess he had become. He pulled the shower curtains to the side and reached down to turn the knob, setting the water at an extremely hot temperature. He stood back up again looking down at his clothes which were stained and dirtied.
He started with his shirt, clasping the bottom on both sides and slowly pulling up and getting it over his head. He threw the shirt across the small bathroom and watched as it slid down the wall. He then kicked off his shoes and removed his socks throwing them where he had thrown the shirt. All that was left were his shorts and with shaky hands he pulled them down, letting them drop to his ankles. He stepped out of them feeling disgusted and kicked it away from him.
Clean, he thought. He just wanted to be cleaned.
At this point the bathroom had somewhat fogged up due to the hot water still running. He jumped into the shower and flinched as the boiling hot water rained on him, his skin turning a bright red. He reached out for the bar of soap and clutched it hard as he started to harshly scrub at his skin until his legs gave out. He fell down with a 'thump' and just laid there in a fetal position, the water still pouring down at him.
He thought about how filthy he was and no matter how many times he washes himself he'll always be stained. He felt disgusted, worthless and dirty. He bit down on his bottom lip as a sob was threatening to come out, his tears mixing in with the water.
He grabbed the bar of soap again and it slipped away but he really needed it badly, so despite the sharp spark of fire that nipped at his lower torso he chased it desperately with grasping fingers. Hinata rubbed his skin raw; raking his dull fingernails from his arms to his chest until he arrived at the place where he wanted to ignore. He wanted to pretend it wasn't there, but the urge to clean was much more stronger than the urge to forget so he slowly and cautiously reached back, wincing in pain as he came in contact with the torn up skin. He quickly retracted his fingers and stared at it, there was a pinkish mixture that washed away under the spray of water before he realized what it was. It was blood and cum.
He was bleeding down there and although it shouldn't have been a surprise it still shocked him. He sat there unmoving as the now cold water fell on him; he stared at the drain and watched as the blood was washed away into the pipes. Hinata wished he could have peeled off his own skin and let it drain down there too.
Hinata's eyes began to feel heavy and he had trouble focusing on the task at hand. He couldn't sleep yet, he still felt dirty, and he still felt disgusting! As much as he wanted to stay in the shower overnight cleaning himself over and over again he knew he couldn't, his mother would know that something was wrong and would question him. He shut off the water, struggling to keep his eyes opened and stepped out into the cold air of his bathroom. He dried his brutalized body with shaky hands and tried his hardest to ignore the pain with each movement he made. He wrapped his towel securely over his body and opened the door, peering down the dark hallway as to make sure no one was there waiting to attack him.
He quickly walked to his room, shutting the door quietly behind him and locking it. His eyes racked over his room, hit was clean, organized and dark. Very dark. Hinata blindly searched his wall for the light switch, a relieved sigh slipping past his lips as the room lit up. He walked over to his dresser and put on not one, not two, but three shirts, a sweater and two pairs of sweatpants, and turned the light off before he crawled into bed. He tried to take comfort in the warmth and softness oh his blankets, he tried to pretend he felt safe, but he didn't.
He didn't think he would ever feel safe again, and belatedly, he didn't think he'd be able to sleep peacefully again. The pain burned with an intense ache radiating from his insides, how could he possibly sleep like this?
But he did after that thought and he dreamt.
That same night he awoke from his nightmare his body feeling as though it was on fire, he was sweating and gasping for air as he clutched at his chest, his eyes roaming wildly across the dark room for any signs of an intruder. He forced himself to calm down once he realized that no one was in his room. It took him 5 minutes to regain his breathing at a steady pace and once he had he laid back down and stared up at the ceiling. His mind was blank and he didn't know how much time had passed from staying in this position. He turned his head to the left his eyes squinting at the brightly lit numbers of his clock on his bedside table.
6:37 A.M.
He sighed and sat back up he figured he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. Or maybe it wasn't that he couldn't, it was that he was too afraid to. He was scared of re-living that moment again in his dreams.
Hinata forced himself to his feet and stumbled towards the door, fumbling briefly with the lock. He walked as quietly and quickly as he could without limping towards the bathroom, causing him to stagger a bit from the intense pain he felt running up his back. Once the bathroom door was closed and locked behind him again he paused to breathe, leaning against the wood door. He began pulling off his many layers of sweat-dampened clothes and wondered how he got them on so easily. Once the pain subsided after a few minutes he considered taking the next step needed to get him under the heat of the shower when he made the biggest mistake of glancing at the mirror.
He quickly looked away, his stomach feeling uneasy again. He was lucky that there was no bruising on his face, that would have made it impossible for him to hide, but he could see the horrible splotches of blue-purple and black bruises littering his torso. Without thinking he ran a hand over them but recoiled just as quickly, imagining Aoi's own pressing hands on him again, his unforgiving foot slamming against him again and again.
Hinata sank to the floor, his eyes screwed shut and his hands reached up to cover his ears. Calm, he needed to remain calm. He took slow intakes of breaths, or at least tried to, but something was wedged down his throat and it was choking him, making it impossible to breathe.
His skin itched again. He needed a shower.
He crawled towards the shower, and almost jumped away had it not been the pain that was holding him there. Just about a foot away from his face was his clothes lying messily on the floor. He didn't want to touch it because it was dirty and he felt that touching it would make him even dirtier than he already was. But the practical thing to do was to dispose of it. He knew he couldn't leave it here, his mom would find it eventually and she would ask questions, so he reluctantly snatched it up and struggled to dump it beside the toilet, out of his sight for the mean time.
He turned on the shower again, making it go as hot as it could and spent the next several minutes clawing desperately at his skin before moving to grasp the bar of soap. He scrubbed himself raw at least four times but by the fifth time he still didn't feel clean. The bar of soap dissolved in his hands by his seventh washing.
He stared at his empty redden hands and tried to resist the urge to run out and turn the house upside down for more. So he tried focusing on disposing those soiled clothes without his mom or natsu suspecting anything.
He got out of the shower, dried himself as quickly as he could without looking too much at his repulsive body. He settled for wearing one shirt, a sweater and sweatpants so he wouldn't have his mother questioning him as to why he had on so many layers of clothing on.
He gathered the scattered bits of clothing that he no longer wanted to see and stood awkwardly at the door before opening it and running to his room. He closed the door with his foot and rushed towards his closet, opening it with one hand and throwing the disgusting clothes at the bottom of it. As he contemplated on putting more clothes on, he became aware of the steady throbbing pain emanating from his temples. He had been so worked up before he hadn't noticed his growing headache.
There was a bottle of aspirin in the kitchen, he remembered. That would help him rationalize this mess into something more…manageable. And it might lessen the other pains in his body as well.
He made his way quietly down the stairs and was surprised when he saw his mother already in the kitchen making her usual morning cup of coffee.
"Good morning, Sho-kun you're up early" his mother said, smiling at him with joy.
"Mm, yeah just getting some water" he said a fake smile plastered across his face.
His mother smiled again and then walked away saying something about taking natsu to the park later and having all sorts of stuff to do. His fake smile disappeared in an instant and he quickly snatched up the bottle of aspirin and retreated back to his room.
That weekend was a never ending cycle of waking up from nightmares and taking far too many showers than he needed to. He would cry and stay up all night afraid to fall asleep, and the times that he did he would only wake up gasping and crying as he re-lived the nightmare over and over again.
It never ended, and he thinks that maybe it never will.
Ahhh at last chp.2!
I hope you guys enjoyed it!
