WARNING: Even though I have said it before I want to stress this now. This chapter and the next in particular contain a lot of graphic violence.
Between here and AO3 I am noticing a lot of people don't seem to care much for these flashback chapters. I just wanted to take a moment to say that these chapters were what I had first imagined for this fic and are 99% of the reason this fic exists. So there are a few more chapters like this and I just wanted my readers to be aware of that because I know they are graphic and probably hard for some people to read, hence why I keep posting warnings all over the place.
But there is a reason behind my madness. In my mind, I believe it would take a lot for Izaya to break. These chapters serve to show the process. Each one includes a major event that had a strong effect on him.
So once again I want to thank my readers. Especially if you are continuing to read this fic despite disliking the current chapters. I'm estimating about 3 more chapters of flashback, so hang in there.
I'm sorry this took so long!
I have been trying to juggle a lot of work lately but I will be quitting one of my jobs on January 1st so by then I will have evenings free to write again. I already feel relief even though I haven't actually left the job yet but it went smoothly and I might even be able to get the job back in the summer when my other job is off.
I'm going to post two chapters this time because this one is so short. I tried just combining this chapter and the next but I didn't like the flow of it so I decided to just post two at once instead.
...~Week Two~...
It kept getting worse.
Just when Izaya felt like he might not be able to take it anymore, it got that much worse.
He had no idea how long he had been here. He had no idea what time it was. He couldn't tell if he was getting enough or even too much sleep. All he knew was that he was exhausted.
Falling asleep felt strange every time. His mind kept telling him he shouldn't be sleeping. That danger was close by and he needed to remain alert.
Nightmares began to assault him while he slept. He would startle awake, relieved that it was a dream, only to be reminded that it wasn't when he felt the weight of the metal collar tug on his neck and the ropes around his limbs.
He had gotten used to the musky smell of this room. He had gotten used to the smell of blood and semen he was so often covered in.
He had almost gotten used to the constant pain...
However Jiro always seemed to be able to recognize this and would increase the amount of pain each time Izaya's reactions to it lessened.
A small rumble came from Izaya's stomach. He vaguely wondered when his master would return with food. Izaya had given up denying himself the feeling of food in his stomach. Even if the only thing he got to eat was plain rice porridge. Jiro had mentioned that he was adding a nutrient powder to the porridge, however Izaya speculated that it was also drugged considering he tended to feel unusually sleepy shortly after eating.
It was usually after a meal that he would get a bath. While he was too tired from whatever was in the food to fight back, his master would reach into his coat pocket and pull out a key. That key unlocked his collar as the chain was too short to reach the bathtub. His limbs would remain tied, of course, but the removal of the collar—even for a short while—was nice.
Izaya sighed into the empty room. I wonder if anyone has noticed that I'm gone… he thought. I wonder if anyone cares I'm gone…
"Meal time!" Jiro's voice rang out and the lights flickered on. Izaya hadn't even noticed the door open. He must be slipping if his brain was starting to omit sounds.
After he ate and drank, Izaya collapsed back on the bed, falling asleep instantly.
…~-~...
When Izaya woke again it was because Jiro was shaking him.
"You've been asleep for awhile, pet. Time to wake up!"
Shifting his shoulders and hips told him that he had been tied to the bed tighter than normal. Normally, he could move his limbs a little bit, but this time he was tied spread-eagle to the bed frame.
He didn't question it out loud, choosing instead to wait and see what on earth Jiro had planned for him this time. He was digging through that bag again. Izaya hated that bag. Everything that came out of it caused him immense pain and he was sure this time would be no different.
His silent question was given a horrifying response. The first thing that had been pulled out of the bag was a long, thin iron bar. While Izaya's imagination went wild with the terrifying possibilities, the next item proved it to be worse than he thought.
A small blow torch.
Adrenaline kicked in and all rational thought flew from his mind.
Izaya twisted and yanked hard on the ropes binding him down but they didn't budge. Panic was flooding his thoughts. He was going to be burned. How badly he didn't know. But the thought of hot metal against his skin was a sensation he didn't want to know.
Blood dripped from his wrists when the ropes began to cut into him. Jiro had put a glove on his right hand and was igniting the torch. The scent of burning gas from the torch told him it was too late.
He wasn't going to get out of this.
The tip of the iron bar was held in front of the torch. The flames licked at the metal, slowly heating it. Izaya couldn't hear anything anymore. The sound of his own blood rushing had drowned out all sound. Jiro was speaking but he couldn't hear what he said. His eyes widened in horror when he realized the metal was now just beginning to glow red.
What do I do? He won't listen to me. I can't stop him. If I could just get my arm free… or a leg… He tugged again, ignoring the pain as the ropes cut into his already bleeding skin. I can't do it… I can't… Oh god he's coming…
Izaya prayed. God, if you exist, please… help me… someone… anyone HELP!
Hopping onto the bed, Jiro placed himself so he was sitting on Izaya's legs, further immobilizing him.
"If you keep struggling like that, it will only hurt more," he said with a wild smile.
A searing, white-hot pain filled Izaya's senses. The tip of the hot iron pressed against the thin, sensitive skin between his hip and groin.
Izaya screamed.
The smell of burning flesh reached him making him sick. He couldn't get away. He couldn't make the pain stop. He could feel the hot tip of the iron drag across his hip, painfully burning the skin in its path.
When the iron lifted, Izaya took a deep shuddering breath. His eyes had closed at some point. Opening them revealed the painful truth that it wasn't over yet. Jiro was re-heating the metal with the torch.
The metal touched down again and the pain continued.
The moment Izaya knew he was going to pass out, the weight was lifted from him. The scalding pain remained, but it seemed to be over. Jiro had begun rinsing the metal in the sink.
He knew he shouldn't look, but he had to know what had been done to him.
Izaya's mouth dropped open slightly as he stared at the ruined flesh on his hip. It was messily done, but he recognized the shape of the burn as writing. Despite seeing it upside down, Izaya recognized the Kanji now branded onto his body.
"Slave," Jiro said, observing Izaya's look of horror with one of smug pride, "Because that's what you are now. That's who you are. My slave."
Nothing was said by Izaya who continued to stare at his hip, not quite believing it was still attached to his body. The pain was the only thing telling him it was really there. That the word "slave" was now branded onto his body. He felt sick.
"Don't worry, I'm going to clean it up for you. I want it to heal nicely after all."
Izaya remained speechless while Jiro cleaned and bandaged his hip. The rubbing alcohol stung harshly even after the bandage was applied.
"Remember the rules, Izaya? You are my property. I think that mark will get the message across well enough."