Disclaimer: I don't own Junjou Romantica, but I wish I did.

-JR-JR-JR-

Misaki

So, of course, as things were finally beginning to die down and become peaceful, more problems had to make themselves known. The specific problem in particular that I'm talking about was currently sitting in the living room, calmly sipping on tea as though he wasn't being a nuisance.

This nuisance's name was Haruhiko. I sighed tiredly, entirely too exhausted with life's recent drama to get furious, although I could feel the anger simmering beneath my skin, waiting for the right prompting to show itself.

There was more than just anger there, though. In the back of my mind, there was a sense of nostalgia, of longing for the normalcy and peace the short relationship with the older Usami had brought me in Akihiko's place.

Slowly, in hopes of stalling the conversation that would inevitably come, I descended the stairs to the living room. Haruhiko wouldn't meet my eyes, the only sign of discomfort and unease visible on the brunette man.

I reached the bottom of the staircase and stopped, crossing my arms and staring at the man, waiting for him to meet my eyes. When finally, after several moments of tense silence, the man dragged his own gaze to mine, there was regret in his eyes. I scoffed to myself at that. Another trait of the Usami clan: They really can't let go of the past and let things be.

"Haruhiko," I began tonelessly. "What are you doing here?" It took more effort than I would care to admit to stop myself from yelling at the man. "I recall you telling me you never wanted to see me again."

I'm sure that, had the brunette man not been an Usami, he probably would have flinched. "I'm sorry. I regretted it right after I said it, but it was too late. You were already gone."

I gave a short, bitter laugh. "If you regretted it so much, then maybe you should have gone after me. Just a thought," I sneered sarcastically. The brunette man began to speak but I cut him off quickly with a glare. "And I know you would have, if you had actually cared about me or my feelings. I know well enough the persistence and stubbornness of the Usami clan."

The shame was practically radiating from Haruhiko, a very out of place emotion for the normally stoic businessman. He began to speak slowly, waiting to see if I would cut him off again. I didn't. "I'm so sorry for what I've done to you, Misaki. If I could have had anything to do with it, none of this would have happened to you. You deserve so much better than what you've been given in life. I would do anything to take what I've caused back, but I know I can't. I just want you to know that I'm sorry and I'm here for you if you ever need me. I only came here to tell you that, and that I never stopped loving you." Before I knew it, a gentle kiss was placed on my lips, and then Haruhiko slipped almost silently from the penthouse.

I wasn't sure how to feel about that. Conflicting emotions raged through me, creating a whirlwind of confusion in my mind. The damn Usami clan just couldn't fucking make up their minds. Both of them made me feel like I was useless and unloved, and then one day they just come sauntering back as if nothing happened, apologizing like that would fix everything and make all of the hurt of the past go away. And yet, at the same time, I wanted to run back into their arms each time they looked at me with those regret-filled, guilty eyes while they apologized with all of their hearts. I couldn't keep my own damn fucking heart straight.

I put my face in my hands, slumping down at the bottom of the staircase, and took a deep breath, attempting to make sense of my mind. None of it made sense. I was supposed to be over Akihiko and Haruhiko. I was supposed to have moved on from them and went on with my life. And yet, here I was, sitting in Akihiko's penthouse having an argument with myself over my feelings towards that very same man.

For a moment I wished with all I had that someone would show up and hold me, comfort me, help me figure myself out. And in that exact moment, the front door opened and Akihiko sauntered in as confidently as he ever had. I squashed that thought as quickly as it came, standing up and turning to the stairs, meaning to go up them and to my room. The author's voice stopped me.

"I saw Haruhiko leaving on my way up," he said. "Is it safe to assume he came up here to see you?"

"Don't talk to me as though we're dating," I snapped, agitated. "You're not my boyfriend. You don't have the right to get jealous of the people I talk to anymore." The man's purple eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly hid it away, along with the flash of annoyance that crossed his gaze.

"Just because you pretend not to care about me doesn't me you get to control my emotions. I love you, Misaki, and no matter what you want, no matter how much you tell me you can't be with me, I will always love you. I will be jealous of the people you talk to. I'll hate how you don't want to be with me, and there's nothing you can do to change how I feel about that, no matter what you want." Akihiko's passionate words, similar to what his brother said just minutes before, were too much to handle. I was out the door and in the elevator before another syllable could leave the author's mouth.

My breath was coming in harsh pants. It was becoming harder and harder to draw air into my lungs. It felt like my throat was closing up. Just when I thought I was going to pass out, the elevator doors opened with a ding and I stumbled out, through the lobby of the apartment complex, and out of the building. The fresh, cold air cleared my head marginally, but black spots still danced in front of my eyes.

Only when I stopped and collapsed against a bench in some park did I realize I wasn't even sure where I'd run. I didn't have the time to look around for someone to ask, either, because only moments later, hands grabbed harshly at my clothes, jerking me up from the bench, and threw me into a car not far from where we were.

Had it not been for the fact that I was barely conscious, I would have fought back. My eyes darted around the dark vehicle, taking in the black, leather interior and tinted windows that hid all that happened inside from any curious eyes. The first person my eyes landed on was the last man in the world I wanted to see. The panic that gripped me was ten times worse than the panic I'd been experiencing not long before, this time fueled by fear and not confusion.

"Haitani," I gasped hoarsely. "I-I thought-"

"That I was still in jail?" he chuckled amusedly. "No, I got off on good behavior." That would have been hard to believe had I not known the connections the older man had. I knew better than to scoff at the absurdity of his statement. I stayed silent. I took the short moment of silence I was given to see how much the man had changed over the time we'd been apart. His hair was black, shaved almost to the scalp, and his skin was a deep bronze shade. There was a cruel glint in his mud brown eyes. I knew that, given the chance, he would make me suffer as much as possible.

"We were following you for quite a while there, you know?" the man stated, sounding both disappointed and entertained by the fact. "What were you so caught up with that you didn't' notice us following you?" I didn't respond, closing my eyes and clenching my teeth in quiet defiance of his command. For it wasn't a question of what I'd been thinking about, but a command. In response, one of the goons that had grabbed me and shoved me into the currently still car slapped me hard on the cheek. I gasped, vivid flashes of similar slaps from inside of prison in my mind, and decided keeping quiet wasn't worth it in the end. Not in the face of what I knew the man would most definitely do to get me to talk.

I spat blood out and wiped it from my split lip. I forced my voice to stay even as I spoke, and glared at the ex-convict. "I just thought of you shoving your disgusting prick into me and had to go for a run to get the horrifying thought out of my mind."

A cruel smirk painted Haitani's lips. "I recall you moaning on that 'disgusting prick' a few times before. Or am I wrong about that?"

I flinched away from the words and memories that accompanied them. "You're not," I admitted quietly, if only to appease the man in front of me. "What do you want with me?" I asked, quickly moving him away from the direction the conversation was going. It wasn't hard to guess, but I needed to hear it for myself.

Haitani flashed his teeth in an animalistic grin and I almost expected them to be sharpened like a demon's. "Oh, just reminding you who you belong to," the demon said lightheartedly. He motioned to his driver and the car began to move. My breath began to come in short pants again. "I'll return you to your dear Akihiko when we're done here."

Before I knew it we were in a nearly empty warehouse district. The goon driving the car pulled into a warehouse and stopped the car. I was dragged from the vehicle roughly and threw me to the ground, where Haitani pinned my down.

I clenched my eyes shut, expecting my clothes to be ripped off. Instead of the familiar ripping sound, I heard a knife being unsheathed. Haitani was straddling me, effectively pinning me from the waist down. I felt a gun being pressed to my temple, silently warning me not to move.

Haitani tapped the knife lightly, chidingly, on my cheek. "Oh, come now, Misaki, love. Don't hide your beautiful green eyes from me."

I knew better than to ignore his order. I slowly cracked open my eyes. I couldn't stop my tears from welling up. How many times had I been in the position before? How many times had he broken me down like this? I only barely kept the tears from falling.

The brunette man grabbed my right forearm in a bruising grip and held it to the concrete ground. I winced but kept my eyes open. When Haitani brought the knife to my arm, I knew with startling clarity what he was going to do.

"No!" I whispered hoarsely, unable to raise my voice any further. "Please…" A tear fell from my eye and slipped down my cheek.

The serrated knife ripped through the skin of my arm without mercy. I choked scream made it halfway out of my mouth, but a dirty rag caked with something I'd rather not know the identity of was shoved down my throat. I gagged and more tears escaped. When the pain finally stopped the edges of my vision were greying out and my head was light.

I dragged my blank gaze up to my mangled arm, and a muffled sob erupted from my mouth. Carved into the pale flesh of my right forearm was the word 'MINE'. There was no doubt that the word would scar horribly. It would be a permanent reminder of the man Haitani who caused me endless suffering.

Haitani's goon removed the barrel of the gun from my temple and took the disgusting gag from my mouth. The next moment a cloth was pressed against my mouth and nose and next thing I knew I was unconscious.

-PJO—PJO—PJO-

Merry Christmas guys! Consider this my Christmas present to you. It took a long time to grind this chapter out but I finally got it to you. Sorry for the long wait and I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as I possibly can.

Favourite, follow, review, and PM me with requests or ideas! Until next time . . .

~O'Malley out!