Author's Note:

I need to preface this chapter with a warning. If you become triggered by self-harm and/or attempted suicide, you need to skip this chapter. I'm debating whether it raises the rating of this story, and I hope you will let me know if you think it should. I will tag appropriately and throw a disclaimer in the synopsis.

I actually wrote this confrontation long before I wrote any of the previous chapters, and have since tweaked it. I feel really vulnerable writing it because of the kinds of themes it deals with. I certainly don't want people sending nasty messages about how it wouldn't happen like this or that I don't know how depression works (if you are one of those people, my prescription says otherwise so don't even). I tried my best to imagine what the character of Guzma as I understand him would do, nothing more or less. As an actual teacher, I try to imagine what it would be like to find out your student was abused and you didn't see the signs. What do you do when someone has a complete breakdown in front of you? Hopefully NONE of you dear readers would know from personal experience, but it happens. So please, I'll be open to discussion but no flames.

Have I freaked you out enough? Good, let's clear up that cliffhanger then.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

"You…" he said in a low, dangerous voice, trembling slightly with rage.

Hala spared Alondra the task of responding, promptly rising from his chair. "Guzma, what's got you so riled up? Calm down, boy!"

This was ignored; his focus remained on her and her alone. "You've been talking to everybody about me, haven't you?" he accused, taking a threatening step forward. There was a dangerous strain in his voice, like his ability to control himself was hanging on by a thread. "My mom was just gushing about how you two had such a nice talk when you came just to slip that note on my pillow, and the old man gave me an earful about never letting my friends show up to our house unannounced again. And who should randomly send a text but Molayne? Haven't seen him in years, and all of a sudden he 'heard' that I was back out training with Hala and wanted to catch up. I checked in with Nanu last week to make sure nobody was messing with the stuff in my room, and he admits only ONE person had been in there to check for somethin' and he made sure to keep an eye on 'em. And Plumeria? She flat out told me you'd been asking her questions! Now I catch you and the old man. Who the hell else did you interrogate about me?!"

In the heavy-hanging silence, Kukui raised his hand uncomfortably. "I told her leave it alone," he pointed out in self-defense.

Guzma's icy glare made him shudder. "And I suppose you didn't say a word!"

"Not really." He thought hard trying to recall exactly what had been said. "Okay, minimal." As if retaliating at her for Guzma's anger at him, he turned to address her. "Alondra, why didn't you listen to me?! He's right to be upset! You don't even know him and you've been digging into his personal business…"

She had been riding the line between terrified and indignant, and Kukui's last remark pushed her towards the latter. "I don't even know him? No, I don't, and that's what I was trying to fix! And the fact is, you don't know him either, do you Kukui? Heck, neither does his mother, or Molayne who traveled with him, or Nanu who kept watch over him, or even you, Hala, the one he calls his master! Plumeria's the only one out there who's got a clue!"

"Look, I know we are all upset and not thinking clearly, but you don't make those kinds of accusations unfounded," Hala rumbled, the closest to angry he had ever been. Alondra vaguely remembered the story one of the house workers had told her about Hau getting scared by his grandpa's wrath as a child, and she involuntarily shivered.

Now it was three against one, so what could she do? "You each see only your personal piece, but you never communicate and put those pieces together! You're missing the big picture!" She found the guts to look at the still-seething Guzma, whose gray eyes were now molten. Every instinct she had told her to turn away, but she refused to let him intimidate her. She'd worked too hard for that. There was no going back. "I used to think you were just a jerk who enjoyed power-tripping and stoking your ego. But that was wrong! It couldn't be further from the truth! There is so much more about you, Guzma, despite what you want us to think…"

The man towering before her felt a sudden flash of fear. Just how much did this girl know? As it always had since he was a boy, the fear fed the anger. "Doesn't matter! If I don't want it known, you haven't got the right to go prying where ya don't belong!"

"I told you, nothing was a secret. Everybody knew something, something they felt was common knowledge but wasn't. Yeah, it was nervy of me to gather those pieces, but someone had to care enough about you to do it! After all this time, shouldn't someone put 2 and 2 together?"

"You keep talking about the pieces and a big picture, but you have yet to say what you're getting at," Hala pointed out, unamused.

Alondra looked around at all the hostility in the room. "Do you really think now is the time, with everyone on edge like this? It would be better for me to just talk to Guzma alone…" Guzma was quickly getting the feeling that this would be a good idea. He couldn't predict just what she was going to say, and odds were good he didn't want the other two in the room to hear it.

"No. Alondra, you've gone too far and now you need to spit it out," Kukui growled.

"Well I'm with her!" Guzma countered. "I've already gotten so much of my privacy violated, I don't need you and Hala getting involved!"

Hala closed his eyes. "I'm with Kukui on this. Some heavy accusations have been made against us and I feel we all need to be illuminated on what it is we have 'missed' about you."

"Of course you're with Kukui!" Guzma snapped. "Isn't that always what it comes down to!"

"Guzma," Hala warned, holding his hands up to calm him.

"Fine, kid!" he spat venomously. Hala siding with Kukui had pushed him past the point of no return. "It seems my opinion doesn't matter even though this is about me, so go ahead and say what you wanna say."

And with that, the room went silent, with three pairs of expectant, hostile eyes resting on her. She looked and felt ready to vomit. Drawing a deep, shaky breath, she finally asked the question that had been plaguing her for weeks, drawing on all her strength to do so. "Guzma. When you were young…no, that's not right. Did you ever… I mean…"

"Hmph, haven't got the guts to say it, only to sneak around behind my back," he sneered. That was enough to push the momentum forward.

"DID YOUR DAD EVER HURT YOU?"

The words hung heavily in the air, reverberating in each person present. Alondra was out of breath, panting nervously from her bold question, but otherwise the only sound was each individual's pulse in their chest. Kukui looked mortified that she'd had the gall to even suggest such a thing, something he'd warned her not to do without evidence long before. Hala's face was unreadable.

"Excuse me?" Guzma finally spoke. Slowly. Evenly. Not the reaction she'd expected, so she tried again.

"Did he…well, maybe not physically. Maybe those golf clubs were just for show, but the bruises and…but maybe he just said things to you that were cruel. I just wondered if he hurt you so much that the pain doesn't go away, however he may have done it. I don't know, I just wondered if…" Finally, she paused her rambling when he choked laughter. It was bitter, like the bile she felt climbing in her throat. When she risked a look at him, she saw him straighten up to his full height, gritting his teeth together.

"Was poor Guzma just a victim? Maybe he's not really a bad guy, maybe somebody made him into this mess. Hell, maybe I could even forgive him if he had some kinda tragic backstory to explain why he's such a piece of shit human being. Is that whatcha wanna know?"

Well, in a way but… "That's NOT my question, Guzma!" she pleaded. "Don't twist it!"

"I'm big bad Guzma!" he replied, voice now mocking. "Destruction in human form! And how does one become destruction in human form? Ya learn from the best." As he flexed his hands, an outlet for the tension, she could hear his knuckles crack. The twisted golf clubs and shards of broken bottles danced before her eyes, which now widened in horror. "But if ya hafta hear it like this to be satisfied, the old man left me black and blue every time I disgraced him. And that was a lot."

Every nagging suspicion clicked into place with those words, and she never wished more in her life that she had been wrong. "Guzma…"

"…what's wrong with you!" he interjected, clenching his hands into fists, entire body shaking as he closed his eyes. "The slogan for my life, burned into my ears from the time I tried to do anything seriously. Nothing was ever good enough for him. It must be my fault, I'm a failure." His hands suddenly fisted themselves in his hair and he began the familiar routine of self-inflicted pain as he yanked hard, harder than she'd ever seen. "Guzma, you can't do anything right!"

"You know that's not true!"

"Shut up!" he yelled, eyes blazing, arms trembling in rage. "Ya come in here thinkin' you've got everything about me figured out. Like hell you do! And now, y'all are gonna sit here and look at me with that goddamn pity! Why do ya think I never let you find out? Don't look at me with those eyes!" After all these years, he'd carefully crafted his armor: Guzma the Boss, Guzma the Thug, Guzma who didn't give a Damn. He did it so no one would suspect what he really was, and now with his secret revealed he was left bare, defenseless under their scrutiny. He was just a sniveling little boy the same as the day his father first struck him, weak and helpless, and that was too much. He'd never wanted anyone to see that part of him, but it was too late. With a roar, he lunged at the cause of his current shame, both other men in the room stunned by the news and by the outburst and unable to react quickly enough.

As soon as she saw his muscles flex, she could have dodged. But she didn't want to dodge. From the bottom of her heart, she wanted to show him she believed he wasn't that bad of a man. So, she stood her ground, allowing his powerful hands to clamp around her forearms so strongly it would surely bruise. She did not flinch. She did not turn her gaze. They stood, eyes locked together, his wild with fear and pain like a wounded animal, hers leaking tears and studying his face for any and every reaction. Slowly, his eyes wandered down to her right hand which clenched something in her pocket. With a trembling hand, he slid down her arm and grasped around her wrist, pulling the hand from her pocket to see what she was holding. It was his Dawnstone.

His face crumpled in shame, releasing his hold on her as if she were scalding his skin. "Oh god, oh god, Guzma, what have you done? What's wrong with you, you monster… You're just like him…" With a howl, he suddenly turned and plowed his fist into the wall. All could hear a sickening crunch as bones surely shattered. "Useless waste of space, you don't deserve to live." His eyes frantically searched the room for something, and finally they settled on a vase that was resting on top of Hala's end table. Before anyone could figure out what he was doing, he grabbed it and smashed it against the wall, bending down to pick up a razor-sharp piece. It cut the inside of his hand from simply holding it. Alondra knew what he planned.

"Guzma, NOOOOO!" she screamed, scrambling to stop him from cutting himself. This time, Hala got there first. It was probably for the better, being that the large man had trained in sumo. Wrapping his arms around him in a bear-hug from behind, he pinned the tall young man's arms to his sides, causing him to drop the shard.

"Guzma, you need to calm down…" Hala spoke evenly, though his voice was pinched. Like he was holding back tears.

"Stop it, old man, lemme go! Why won't ya let me do it? You know everyone would be better off if I just…" He thrashed uselessly against Hala's hold, tears streaming down his face.

"NO, Guzma. Stop and think. Who will take care of Golisopod and the others? How will that make Plumeria feel? I know I've failed you as your master, but I couldn't live with the guilt if anything happened to you, boy!"

"I…I know…" he whimpered, ceasing his writhing and collapsing to his knees. Now, he openly sobbed. "I wish I could do it. I wish I could end it, but I can't! I'm just a broken piece of trash but nobody will let me do it!"

"I know I can't say anything that will help right now, Guzma, so I'm just going to sit here and hold you until the demon passes." To emphasize his point, the old Kahuna squeezed him tighter against his body, not so much as a restraint but as an embrace, rocking him to calm him. "I'm going to be here for you now even though I never was before when you needed me all those years ago. I'm so sorry for being blind, my boy. So sorry…"

"I don't want ya to be sorry for me, old man…"

"No, Guzma, I'm not sorry for you. I'm sorry for letting you down, that's all."

Meanwhile, Kukui remained standing motionless at the side of the room, left feeling completely hollow by what he had learned about his childhood friend. Part of him wanted to run in shame. After all, wasn't he the one always dismissing Guzma's actions as childish? Telling people he was being immature when he threw a fit after losing? He hadn't seen what was really at work even though he had called Guzma a friend. Yet, he didn't leave the room, precisely for that reason. He owed Guzma more than that, so he finally kneeled on the floor in front of him and wrapped his arms around him. "I know you'll never forgive me, and you don't have to."

That just left Alondra, on the verge of her own breakdown. "Oh God, what have I done?" she whispered, but no one heard. They were taking care of Guzma, keeping him from hurting himself, and that was exactly what they needed to do. She didn't belong there though. She caused this. She made him almost self-destruct. With tears pouring down her face but silent as she had always trained herself to be, she ran from the room.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Someone had sat with him for the last 24 hours at all times, whether he was awake or asleep. As soon as he seemed to gain some semblance of control, Hala and Kukui had insisted he go to the emergency room to have his hands examined while hastily trying to bandage up the one that was bleeding. Stitches on his left from the shard of pottery, a cast on the right from punching the wall. While Guzma had finally slept in pure exhaustion, Hala had a long talk with the doctor about getting his charge some medication to control the anxiety and depression, something he'd probably desperately needed long ago but never received. The doctor was hesitant to write a prescription without an examination, which could take months and a lot of yellow tape given Guzma's circumstances, but Hala held enough clout as the Kahuna that his word was taken seriously. It certainly wouldn't be enough to handle all the trauma, but it would be an important first step to managing it.

The very next thing Kukui insisted on was calling Plumeria. He'd gotten her number registered when she started her Island Challenge, and knew from past experience that she and Guzma worked very closely together. Alondra had said no one knew him better than her. She would want to know what happened. Fumbling in his mind for the right words he would need when she answered, he stepped into a vacant room and shut the door behind him. His dread was palpable.

It only took two rings. "Kukui, what's up? Is this about Hala? I've been looking for him for an hour but everybody's just been wringing their hands and saying he went down to the city for an emergency. I thought Alondra would know what was happening, but I can't find her anywhere."

"Well, yeah, this is about that. Listen, Plumeria, are you somewhere alone?" Kukui began tentatively.

There was a pause. "Shit. What happened? Is it Guzma?" She tried to play it calm, but it was evidently not working as her voice escalated.

"It is. We're…at the hospital right now. No life threatening injuries or anything, just some stitches and a broken hand."

"But that's not all, is it?"

"N-no. I'll ask again. Are you somewhere private?"

A deep breath on the other end. "I'm heading up the trail to the shrine. It's fine."

"So, umm, Plumeria, have you ever noticed anything off about Guzma's…mental state?"

There was a string of curses. "Did he hurt himself?"

"I'll take that as a yes." Kukui bit his lip and rested his forehead in his palm. "And yes, he did. Luckily, Hala and I were both there to stop him from doing anything more drastic."

"One of two things happened to cause this, and I can't decide which it would be." The girl seemed to pull herself together, trying to sort out the situation logically. "The first is that something happened with his dad last night after he called me."

"Did you know…I mean, did he ever tell you that his dad…"

"Beat him? Made him feel worthless with the things he said? Yeah. His dad should go die in a hole."

"So you did know. She was right then; none of us really knew him except you." Kukui deep down had hoped that everyone had been as in the dark about Guzma's past as he was, refusing to acknowledge that Plumeria might have been someone he trusted more than the other people in his life. Alondra had called it correctly to his dismay.

"Who?" Plumeria's voice suddenly became very suspicious, and twice as agitated. "Suspect number two? Did she start asking questions that pushed him over the edge?"

"Are you referring to Alondra?"

"Yes." There was tense silence as she waited for the verdict.

"Guzma overheard her talking to Hala and got confrontational. Hala and I pushed her and Guzma into a corner because she kept speaking in riddles and wouldn't answer us plainly. We gave her no choice and she asked Guzma if his dad had done anything to him. And that ended in about the worst way possible."

"I KNEW that bitch would hurt him!" With a furious roar, he could hear something snapping in the background.

"Plumeria?! Hey, you're not doing anything…"

"I'M MAKING SOME TWIGS, NOT BREAKING MY BONES, OKAY?!"

He breathed in relief. The last thing he needed was a second person in the hospital for self-injury. "Hey, I know you're upset with her, but she didn't want any of this to happen, I'm sure! She wanted to ask Guzma when they were alone but we didn't let her."

"She didn't have to do what you told her!"

"We goaded Guzma on so he demanded she talk. Please, I understand why you blame her. I told her long ago that she shouldn't be messing with his personal life and she didn't listen to me, but…she did it for the right reasons."

"I hate how naïve she is!" Plumeria's volume had gone back done, but her voice still quivered with fury. "I told her she'd hurt him just because of who she is, and I was right. I should have gotten out of bed and gone with her…"

"Look, Plumeria, I don't mean to cut you off, but right now we need to focus on making sure Guzma is okay. I know that he…trusts you more than anyone, and I was hoping you would come and talk to him when he wakes up."

Another deep breath. "I've had some experience talking him down before, though nothing this serious. I'll be over as soon as I can. Someone's with him now, right?"

"Hala is sitting with him. Nobody's letting him out of their sight."

"Good. I'll be there in a few minutes." Then, the call ended with a click. Well, that could have gone worse…