"What luck for the rulers that men do not think" –Adolf Hitler
Someone shook Gokudera awake roughly and he let out a small grunt as his back ended its short painless vacation to come back in full throttle. Gokudera opened his eyes irritably, momentarily forgetting about the last few days' events. He didn't appreciate the interruption of his peace. He struggled to prop himself up on his elbows, the pain shooting down his back not helping, as his eyes adjusted to being awake.
When he blinked the last bit of sleep out of his eyes, Gokudera's eyes met nearly identical ones. The only difference was that these were blazing in barely controllable anger.
Gokudera groaned. He really didn't want to deal with his father right now. But he didn't have much of a choice because, as he had been distracted with the act of opening his eyes so he could actually see, his father had him yanked up by the collar. Gokudera squinted as his father started hissing in his face. He felt his temper start to rise as spit flew into his face.
"Here you are, you little fucker. Do you know how much humiliation you caused me with that little act? Not only was my big plan on money and getting you out of the way ruined, but now the whole fucking country knows that the head of Kouzoyo's son is a shitless fag!" By the end, no, from the beginning of this little speech Gokudera could feel himself shaking with rage. How dare he say that! He had ignored Gokudera for most of the silver-haired Italian's life and now he expected him to act like a good little boy just to suit his father's needs? Bullshit. Gokudera was living life his way.
"You selfish bastard," Gokudera growled as he smacked his father's arm off him. "The only thing you've ever cared about is you and that stupid company! Why should you care who I love anyway? I think I did you a favor! You can finally get the respect you've deserved since the day you were born!"
Gokudera spat at his father's feet.
"Kouzoyo's going out of business, anyway."
Gokudera wasn't even aware of what happened next. Suddenly he was being shoved roughly to the ground; the steps of whoever's house this was digging into his back. He bit on his lip to hold back a cry of pain, his back still smarting from yesterday's encounter with Hibari, to the point of drawing blood.
At first, Gokudera wasn't conscious of the fact that his father was on top of him.
He was, however, aware of someone unzipping his pants.
He stared down sharply, his breath hitching in shock and yes; fear. His father was leaning over him, pulling off Gokudera's and his own pants. Gokudera's heart thundered in his chest as the clothes were deposited into the yard and adrenaline suddenly pumped through his veins. He struggled wildly, but his father's arms had him pinned down.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Gokudera screeched. He wondered, even though it was still dark out, if there was anyone he could shout to for help. Shit, if only he wasn't pinned down! He felt his father smirk near his ear; hot breath shooting into his ear canal. Gokudera flinched. This technique was one Hibari used a lot.
"Teaching you the meaning of being a fag."
Gokudera was crying silently when his father finally finished and stepped back to pull his pants back on.
He felt violated. He was violated. That horrible feeling of his father inside of him, the ugly noises that he had pulled out of Gokudera, the fact that it had happened at all…
Gokudera had hated his father plenty of times, but he'd never been afraid of him like he was now. He had never considered his father as someone who could do… this. The thought had never even crossed his mind.
That a father could rape his own son.
He didn't even try to conceal the cries of pain that escaped him as his father yanked him into a standing position. He wondered if his back would ever heal, after all the abuse it had gone through. He just stayed lifeless as his father forcefully pulled on Gokudera's pants and shoved him into the backseat of a car. That was the least painful way of doing things. He slumped against the window, and apparently spoke what was on his mind because his father answered.
"We're going to the house of the head of the only company who is still our ally after what you did, you little shit," his father growled as he floored the gas pedal.
Gokudera wanted to ask why he was coming along, but he couldn't even organize his thoughts at the moment. His father probably had AIDS, or some stupid STD from all of the women he'd brought home. He crossed his arms over his hips, as if protecting himself from further harm, and stared out the window as the world flashed by.
Yamamoto nearly fell dead.
He'd been living in Miharu's parents' house for the past couple of days, getting used to living with Miharu while their soon-to-be house was being built. Kenta had insisted on building them their own house, even though the couple had insisted that they were fine with an already made house. But Kenta was stubborn and refused to budge. Miharu had just rolled her eyes and shrugged at Yamamoto.
Yamamoto had even gotten used to kissing Miharu, at least in front of her parents. The two had a silent agreement to only act lovey-dovey when there was a parent nearby since they both still loved someone else. Yamamoto had a feeling that Miharu's lover was that girl in the picture, but he said nothing.
Sometimes they cuddled on the couch together involuntary, just some little things like his hand on her calf and her head on his chest which could be considered as a deep friendship as well. However, the couple was going to let Miharu's over-enthusiastic parents think what they wanted.
But none of these things were the reason for Yamamoto nearly having a heart attack and dying right there on the stairs.
Gokudera was there. In Miharu's house. Within three yards of where Yamamoto was standing. Yamamoto's breath hitched. But his eyes narrowed slightly. Something was off.
The silver-haired beauty was standing behind a very pissed-off looking man with his silver bangs covering half of his face. But as Yamamoto bent his head in a weird angle to look at his face, he realized that Gokudera's cheeks were tear-stained and his eyes hollow and lifeless. And, to Yamamoto's utter horror and concern, when Gokudera followed the angry man into the living room, he had a very noticeable limp. He was hugging his arms tightly around himself, as if protecting himself from something.
What in the world had this man done to himself?
Yamamoto felt himself start to move forward, but an arm stopped him. He looked down to see Miharu had blocked his path and she gave him a small shake of her head. She climbed a few stairs so she could whisper in his ear.
"Don't get involved. Hiroto Gokudera is not someone you want to mess with when he's angry." She smiled sympathetically at him. "Just sit at the table and try not to stare too hard, okay?"
Yamamoto swallowed and nodded, even though he wondered if he could even follow this request. Yamamoto almost tripped down the stairs as he followed Miharu into the kitchen where Hiroto was shouting at Kenta. Yamamoto's gaze was glued to Gokudera, even when he couldn't believe what was happening or that this man blowing his top was Gokudera's father.
Hiroto was pushing his son in front of him, either oblivious or uncaring at Gokudera's flinch in pain. It was obvious that he was hurting badly and the reason probably also had to do with why he was limping. Hiroto was spitting about some stupid and horrible things his son had did, but Yamamoto paid no attention to that. He didn't believe Gokudera was the man his father believed him to be. Yamamoto's heart twisted at the look in the Italian's eyes as Gokudera turned his head to look at him.
He looked scared.
Yamamoto had never seen Gokudera look scared; the man always held himself with a sort of indifference that Yamamoto admired. He always held his head up and his snappy attitude and proud ego was always portrayed in a flamboyant way.
But Yamamoto didn't see any trace of that now.
All he saw was a broken corpse.
Suddenly Gokudera was looking at him. Really looking at him. Not in the spaced out way that he had been just before. His attention was fully on Yamamoto now. Yamamoto swallowed and attempted a small smile even when the look Gokudera was giving him killed him.
It was full of longing. Love. Despair. Pain. Fear.
Yamamoto wanted to comfort Gokudera; tell him he was sorry for being so stupid and that he still loved him, no matter what. But just as he was finally convincing himself to move, no matter what Miharu had warned him about, a finger was being shoved in his face and Yamamoto was suddenly tuned into what was being said.
"… and it's all because of this asshole right here!"
Suddenly all eyes were turned to Yamamoto and he heard Miharu draw in a breath. Gokudera was looking at him with what seemed to be guilt. Now Yamamoto really wanted to know what he was being accused of.
"Takeshi…" Kenta started, in a tone that told Yamamoto he wasn't going to like how this sentence finished. "We've accepted you into this family with open arms and enjoyed every minute of it. But this… does this mean you've been lying to us? Have you been having an affair with this man?"
The air seemed to deprive itself of oxygen as Yamamoto suddenly couldn't breathe. His eyes darted from Miharu to Gokudera, both of them begging him to say no. But he'd lied to these kind people long enough, and the sudden despair he'd felt ever since he realized he'd have to give Gokudera up gave him a steely determination. He was going to confess in front of everybody; show the silver-haired Italian that he had been serious about him from the beginning.
But, just as Yamamoto opened his mouth to speak, a flash of pink stomped into the kitchen and stopped in front of Gokudera. When Yamamoto could focus, all he saw was way too short booty shorts.
"Airi!" Miharu squeaked, her face mirroring the horror in her tone.
And suddenly Yamamoto recognized the girl in the picture; Airi Kouzoki, Gokudera's ex-fiancée. How Miharu knew the girl, or if she was crazy if Yamamoto's suspicion was correct, Yamamoto didn't know. The room fell silent as Airi pouted in an angry stance right in front of Gokudera. The whole thing almost even felt normal when Gokudera developed a disgusted look on his face.
"Hayato Gokudera, I demand an apology!"
(A/N) Ever since that last chapter squeezed itself out of my brain, this has been a lot easier for me to write! I thank everyone who helped me get out of my funk and back into the mood of writing this story! :) And I never thought that I would use a quote from Hitler :P