A/N: OKAY. Heeeere is some more story. Sorry if it sucks. I hope you like it, I'm trying to pull in some more characters and sho how the kidnapping (soon to be kidnappingS) affect them. Thank your lovely friends who PMed me until i got tired of disappointing you guys for this update. Hope it make syou happy-excited we're getting to the plot twist and the climax soon! ~Annie
One phone call and a few brief words spoken in a clipped, detached tone are the only orders needed to send the entirety of the Ootori's private police to the address Hikaru has given. The apartment is located in a sketchy part of town and when they arrive the place is bare save for a single twin bed and a nightstand in the tiny bedroom and a torn recliner out in the living room. They find a ripped shirt, and pair of boys running shorts folded neatly on the tattered chair with an envelope addressed to Hikaru Hitachiin.
Tamaki isn't pacing so much as wearing a nervous pathway through the carpet of one of the upstairs bedrooms in the Hitachiin house. The blond feels useless to the twins, like he's not doing everything he knows how to help find Kaoru and get him back home where he belongs. From the large bed at the other end of the room Kyoya sits up and fixes him with a tried look.
"Tamaki. It's 2am. Get back in bed." The black haired teen yawns out in a sleep-heavy voice. When the other doesn't move to listen to him he runs a hand down one side of his face with a sigh and tries again. "You being barely awake like a zombie isn't going to help anyone. If you want to help Hikaru you need to be well rested."
The blond nods despondently and shuffles back over the too big, too soft bed. He lays still, his mind still racing with thoughts of Kaoru and the man who kidnapped him for some sort of sick game. Tamaki wasn't awake for long though, his exhaustion coupled with the warmth flowing off of the body beside him lulled him into a dreamless sleep.
~I can't hear the Gamemaker anymore, not even the sound of his shoes scuffing the floor. I grit my teeth and wriggle into a sitting position to take a better look at my surroundings. The room is bigger than the last one, and this one has no windows. The walls are covered in fading pale blue flowered wallpaper and the floors look like hardwood or something of that variety. There's a woman's vanity just opposite the bed and in it I can see my reflection.
There are dark splotches of purple under my eyes from going days without sleep, an angry red cut that's scabbed over but still stands out against my sickly pale skin and finger shaped bruises around my mouth. I don't see myself in the mirror. I see a scrawny, redheaded boy who looks like he's been used for backstreet deals doing favors for money. I can't even meet my own eyes, afraid of the hope I might see there but mostly afraid not to see it.
There's another nightstand next to me, just like before in the other room but this one has a glass of water on it. I wonder, absentmindedly if the idiot left it there expecting if I woke up I would be able to get to it with my hands bound to the bedposts. In one corner of the room there is a wardrobe, wooden and old with some sort of ornate carvings around the top and on the handles. Something about this place sits wrong in my stomach. Its like a horrible sense of déjà vu.~
Honey kicks restlessly in his sleep. His feet kick and knock into Mori waking him with a painful jab in the stomach a little too close to the family jewels and he sits up, shaking his companion awake as well. The small bond jolts awake, eyes wide and frightened but his gaze settles on Mori and he blinks, tugging the pink rabbit in his arms closer to his chest. The stoic teen pulls the other close, letting him burrow against his sleepshirt and sniffle a few tears from watery eyes. The steady rhythm of the black haired boy's heartbeat echoes like a lullaby and the blond finds himself dead to the world, asleep on Mori's chest.
Hikaru wakes to a horrible stabbing pain in his arms. The redhead gasps awake pulling in breaths like a drowning man and unclenches his hands from around his forearms. He clicks the bedside lamp on and scowls at the bloody imprints left on his arms where he clawed at his skin during his sleep. Slowly he makes his way to the bathroom and washes the dark stains away without so much as a whimper and bandages his arms like he's done it many times before.
This isn't the first night he woke to find his skin, raw and bleeding with flesh underneath his own nails. He doesn't toss and turn in his nightmares. When he sleeps Hikaru gouges at his arms, ripping and clawing; his body hopes to pull him from the visions of his brother in agony at his own fault with pain. The pain dulls though, to a throbbing almost numbness. The teen slides back into bed, eyes dark and emotionless and tumbles back into the nightmares where his twin screams his name and pleads for mercy from an unseen assailant.