When he saw the sliver of yellowy light leaking from the crack in the doorway he froze, heart jumping into his throat and toes digging uneasily into the thick hallway carpet. There were no windows and the hall was dark save for that one yellow band, stretched across his pathway like an electric fence he dare not try pass. Kyoya felt as if his feet were planted to the ground; he bit the inside of his cheek painfully, a steady stream of thought willing himself onward. His bedroom was just around the corner and he could practically hear his bed beckoning to the exhaustion in his joints- the only thing between him and sleep was this one cracked doorway, and Kyoya Ootori was not some child who built up crazy scenarios in his head just to frighten himself.

The dark haired teen straightened and adjusted his glasses a moment before continuing on his path, walking past the doorway as if it didn't bother him at all- even if he was extremely cautiously walking light on his feet. Just as he was past the light and his shoulders began to relax, a rough voice called from inside the room

"Kyoya."

He froze for a moment, fists clenching so tight his nails dug into his skin, and cursed under his breath before turning to approach the cracked door once again. He took a moment to compose himself, hand resting on the doorknob before pushing it open and entering the room. This was his father's study, although the bookshelves lining the walls and tall bay windows Kyoya knew all too well were all hidden in the blackness of the unlit room. There was just one small lamp lit atop an end table, it's dim yellow light just enough to reveal his father, sitting with his back to the door in an armchair. Kyoya stood just inside the doorway, eyeing the back of his father's head a moment before answering

"Yes father?"

He heard the clink of ice before he saw his father lift a glass to his mouth and take a long gulp; the bottle on the end table was half empty, the lamp plunging golden light into the already amber liquid and making its shadow dance lazily on the rug.

"Why are you up so late?"

Kyoya shifted only a moment before replying

"I was working on homework."

His father stood and turned to look at him, eyes narrow behind his reading glasses; the man's eyes burned as they took in every inch of him and Kyoya avoided them, staring down at the liquor's reflection swaying on the carpet instead. Silence stretched on before Mr Ootori began to approach him, slowly, casually.

"It's one in the morning, Kyoya."

Kyoya stared fixedly at the rug, resisting the urge to back away as his father approached. He came to a stop uncomfortably close in front of his son, leaning down to try and catch the teen's eye, the smell of liquor burning in his breath.

"Answer me when I speak to you, Kyoya," he said louder now, the teen bracing for what he knew was to come, "do you hear me? It's one in the morning!"

Kyoya had nothing to say because he had done nothing wrong but he needed to say something.

"Yes sir."

A hand cracked across his face almost before he had even finished the short reply and Kyoya swayed slightly, not daring to put a hand to his cheek and admit that it hurt but instead biting the inside of his cheek until it bled, bitterness churning in the pit of his stomach. It didn't matter what he said or didn't say, the routine was the same and he knew this was coming from the moment he was called into the room.

"It takes you that long to finish your daily work? Either you're a liar or an idiot and I don't need either of those living in my house! Can't you go just one day without making me feel ashamed of you, you worthless child?"

He turned and began to slink back to his seat, snatching up the glass and downing its contents.

"What did I ever do to deserve such a disgrace for a son…"

He said to himself, pointedly loudly. Kyoya stood stiffly in place, working to keep his breathing steady, willing himself not to wince at his still stinging cheek. After several moments Mr. Ootori lifted his gaze to spot his son and drew his lips back from his teeth to seeth

"You're still here?"

Before Kyoya even knew what was happening his father threw back his arm and flung the glass across the room at his son, bellowing

"GET OUT!"

The glass hit the wall behind Kyoya and shattered, making the teenager jump before spinning on his heel and stalking out of the room. He walked at a quick pace down the hall and around the corner, heart racing, the sound of shattering glass and his father's words replaying over and over in his head. When he saw his bedroom door he picked up his pace, practically flinging his door open and locking it behind him. He crossed to his bed, kicking off socks and pulling off his clothes as he went, his pillows practically yelling his name louder than his father's voice in his head. But just before he could finally sink onto his mattress Kyoya froze at the foot of his bed, lifting his gaze slightly to stare at his bathroom door across the room.

His momentum lost, the slew of emotions he had pushed down inside him began to stir, churning his stomach and prickling his skin. Slowly, with air caught in his throat, he lifted a hand to his stinging cheek.

'worthless child!'

Kyoya gulped. He knew he shouldn't have been up so late reading; it was chapters he hadn't even been assigned yet but he wanted to get a head start, knowing the next few weeks of Host Club were probably going to be busier than usual as the hosts began preparations for whatever they had planned for his birthday. It was his own fault for losing track of time. He hated the way his father treated him but he knew he was right.

'disgrace of a son!'

…he knew he was right…

Kyoya stared at the back of the bathroom door, heart picking up speed a little as he began to deliberate whether he was going to do it. His pillows were calling his name, but in the top drawer of his bathroom sink a little metal razor was calling his name, too.

After a long moment Kyoya decided the exhaustion was too much and turned back to his bed, throwing back the covers and crawling inside, laying his head down on the pillows with a deep sigh. He ripped his glasses off and tossed them on the nightstand before clicking the light off, letting the actions serve as definitive confirmation that he would not be cutting before bed tonight. He was still in control: he had been in control when he had decided to read ahead, and he received the discipline from his father he deserved.

It was only moments before Kyoya was asleep, dreaming all night of dancing amber, shattered-glass rain, and a pair of wide brown eyes staring right through him.

~K~

I received too many PMs and reviews to ignore this piece any longer, although I did not really plan to return to this story. I have a lot of conflicting feelings towards this story because I started it when I was a very different person and my view on the subject matter- namely abuse and self harm- is very different now than it was when I started, leading me to dislike how I originally planned to end this story. However, after receiving so many messages begging for an ending I began to feel as if I may never escape this story I've always kind of regretted unless I finish it. The next chapter is the last one and it may take a while but I guess its coming.

Ps. To the reviewer who urged me to 'compose myself' and finish the story so I won't have 'wasted their time' with 'only four chapters,' maybe you don't realize what you said was rude but it was. Please do not speak to authors as if their work is easy or that they owe their readers anything because neither of these things are true.