When Kyoya opened his eyes, he saw the sky. It was orange. Most likely dawn. He began to get up.
"AAGHHH! Wh- what the hell? Why, does this hurt so much!"
When he looked down, he saw he is right hip exposed to the air. Not too much, but he saw bone nonetheless, and there was alot of blood. Too much blood, for Kyoya's taste. His skin looked like tattered, worn out clothing around the immense wound. It was half-way hanging off, some other parts just looked dead already. Kyoya couldn't even feel the pain he was in, it was already numbed from the blood loss. He extended his left hand to the floor to try and further push himself upward. The moment he put pressure on it he yelled in excruciating pain. His hand was also shot through, the blood loss was crucial. The thick red liquid was scatering down his arm at rapid speed now that he was moving around. The pattern looked like roads on a map. Kyoya layed back down, on top of the blood, glass, and rubble, to inspect his body to see if he had anymore wounds.
"Wow..th-that man was a terrible shot." Kyoya stuttered through his pain.
Kyoya scanned himself over from head to toe. His clothes were completely dirty from his blood, he was missing his phone and wallet, and he had severe bruising on his torso.
"Those bastards. Kicked me while I was u-unconscious? T-they're going to pay."
The extensive damage was mainly his hip and wrist. He was extremely lucky the clan assumed he was dead, otherwise he would have had hundreds of shots through his chest. Kyoya used his right hand to carry his weight while shimmying himself across the limo floor. The glass and debris were slowly tearing away at his good hip, making him wince in shear pain, but he knew he needed to start driving. He knew he needed to find his Tamaki. Kyoya quickly managed to open the door to the limo and fall out, tumbling pretty badly and scraping his exposed bone on the pavement. Kyoya had never screamed so hard in his entire life than in that second. His wrist was making a blood trail.
"FUCK. FUCK." Kyoya yelled, as he managed to open the door to the drivers seat and lift his weight up.
Kyoya took a second of silence for his dear limo driver.
"You died too young, my friend. I will make sure your family is taken care of.." Kyoya whispered.
He unwantingly pulled his driver's body out of the front seat and let him fall to the pavement. The smell of blood hit his nose like a ton of bricks and Kyoya nearly puked. He attempted to ignore it and kept on, forcing one leg inside of the limo. Once he painfully managed to sit on the seat, he forced his other leg inside. Kyoya took a second to rest from all the physical work.
"I'm never going to take my legs for granted again..." He whispered, releasing a few tears on the steering wheel he was resting on.
Kyoya then shut the door as hard as his feeble arm could allow him, then started the vehicle. He pressed a few buttons underneath the radio and another panel popped up on the center column.
"That's right fuckers...Kyoya does always have a few tricks up his sleeve." He muttered.
The panel was silver, almost robot looking. It had a qwerty keyboard along with a small green digital screen. He typed in his new password as of 3 days ago: 'Ootori-Suoh-8792' The screen said "acess granted", flashed a couple of times then stopped. An odd shaped compartment popped out of the car from underneath the drivers dash and on the side of the middle console. Inside was 300,000 yen, a shotgun, a passport with Kyoya's real name and one with an alias, and an untraceable cell phone.
"Always be prepared...always be prepared... That's what my father taught me. Always be prepared.." Kyoya chanted to himself, attempting to ignore the pain.
Kyoya snatched the cell phone and dialed his Father's number.
"Kyoya! It's so good to hear from you. How are you and Tamaki doing? You know, I must say..you haven't brought that boy around for me to meet him! I heard he's a hybrid, half french right? Those are lovers you know! I remember when I went down to France to-"
"Dad, Shutup." Kyoya said. His voice was so icy and broken.
"Son..is something wrong?"
Kyoya's Father knew he sounded differently. He had never heard his son sound like that before.
"Yes. E-everything. Dad.." Kyoya's last word broke with sadness.
"No one breaks down an Ootori like this. Do I need to have somebody killed?"
Kyoya sniffled a couple of times and tried to pull himself together. If not for him then atleast for Tamaki.
"S-South Market clan. They have Tamaki. They, they came and s-shot up the car. I was unconscious Dad. I was unconscious when they took Tamaki! I-I need help..I don't know what to do!" Kyoya had broken down again.
The voice on the other end of the line stayed silent for a while in an attempt to think. Finally, Kyoya could hear his Father giving angry orders to somebody in the background.
"Kyoya. Where are you right now?"
"Infront of the Italian restaurant you and Mom got married in." Kyoya sobbed.
"W-what? That's all the way in Hokkaido, what are you doing there?"
Kyoya began crying a bit more. His bloody sleeve wiping away the tears he didn't want to come down.
"I-I was g-going to a-ask him t-to m-marry me -D-Dad, now he's g-gone!" Kyoya whimpered. "And it's a-all my f-fault."
"Kyoya. Don't be ridiculous this isn't your fault. Now, Tamaki needs you and you're crying like a baby. I understand this is hard, but you have to man up and think of affirmative action! You're going to have to be strong Kyoya. Don't worry, i've already got the police chief heading to their lair right now, as well as my men. If they so much as sneeze we'll know. I promise, I won't let them hurt Tamaki. You have my word, Son."
Kyoya seemed to feel a huge weight lifted off his shoulders.
"Dad..T-thank you. I l-love you." Kyoya muttered, sniffling in the process.
"I love you too son. Son, are you hurt?"
"My bone is showing and, and my wrist is bleeding..." Kyoya slurred, he was beginning to feel woozy.
"YOUR WRIST? KYOYA, EVEN A SLIGHT CUT TO THE WRIST CAN KILL YOU! HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN BLEEDING? KYOYA, KYOYA?"
Kyoya tried to hold the phone to his ear. His fingers simply weren't strong enough, and the cell phone slipped to the ground. Kyoya's head began spinning, and his whole world was like a dry desert. His head, hands, mouth,feet; they all were dry. He couldn't feel life flowing through them anymore. He had lost way too much blood, and he passed out right there.
*beep,beep,beep,beep,beep*
"I'm sorry sir. But, I don't think he's going to make it."
An angry father slammed his hand down hard on a metal table.
"YES HE WILL MAKE IT!" He screamed, a cigar in one hand and ten of his men behind him. "IF MY SON KYOYA OOTORI DOESN'T MAKE IT, IT WILL RAIN BLOOD IN THE STREETS OF JAPAN! THIS WILL BE THE DAY THAT EVERYBODY WILL COME TO MOURN! EVERYBODY WILL LOSE THEIR FIRST BORN SON! SOUTH MARKET CLAN, WILL BE COMPLETELY DESTROYED, AND WE WILL MAKE SURE THAT THEIR WIVES HANG BY THEIR VERY OWN INTESTINES WRAPPED AROUND THEIR THROATS!"
"S-Sato san. P-please." The home doctor begged.
Sato ran up to him and pulled his face downward by the tie. He angrily pushed him against the wall, causing needles to fall off a table.
"No Hisashi, today you call me Ootori-san. Because if my SON dies, you will no longer be my friend..."
Hisashi just stood there, motionless.
"Oh-oh kay... Let me, let me operate some more." Hisashi muttered, fumbling with his glasses and trying to avoid death.
Kyoya was on an operating table. Wires were hanging off of him like party streamers, and blood was getting pumped into him at a very fast rate. His heart rate could barely make it past a beat per minute.
"Would you be willing to donate more blood sir?" Hisashi asked.
"Yes! Just fix my damn son!
It was dark and the walls were cold. That's all that Tamaki knew. The last thing he remembered was Kyoya being shot; his body on the ground, being stomped to death by five angry men. Tamaki didn't move, he just existed. He was sitting, tears rolling down his eyes,shaking in petrification, he was mortified by what he was thinking about. Death.
"Alright get up vehemon. I can't even stand to look at you. All you are is Kyoya's sloppy seconds." The large man said, spitting some sort of tobacco on the ground.
Tamaki's face twisted into some sort of..thing. He didn't know which emotion to display. Sadness? No, he's to scared. Scared? No, he's too disgusted. Disgust? No he's to sad.
"You..you didn't even know the man you killed. He was a son, a lover...a hero. To almost all of the people in Japan. But, you wouldn't know that, because you're the trash he'd step on beneath his feet." Tamaki exclaimed quietly, brushing the stranded pieces of hair and tears away from his face.
The thug leaned over Tamaki and smacked him in the face. The sound resonating off the walls.
"If i'm trash what does that make you?" He asked, snarling with his hand balled into a fist ready to strike.
Tamaki had to think about that for a minute. What did that make him? He had the perfect answer.
"A Prince, being held hostage by trash, wishing his king could rescue him."
Tamaki put his head back down in his hands. Crying and thinking about his one true love.
"OH K-kyoya...I Love you. I-I m-miss you.."
He cried Kyoya's name out for hours upon end.