A/N: Because I got a couple of requests (from Razorblade Mistress and XxJigoku-no-HanaxX) for a continuation, I present to you Chapter 2! (Since I'm too lazy to actually come up with a name for it.) Forewarning goes here that this is not a "happy" chapter - she's a Zoldyck, none of their lives are happy. However, I hope you enjoy.
And btw, I did a little rewrite on C1 because as I reread it I noticed I suddenly went from 3rd person POV to 1st person POV (I'm not even sure how).
Disclaimer: I don't own the name "Zoldyck" but all the characters belong to Razor since this is still her story, and I will now shut up so you can read ^^
Sitting on the tiles of the mansion's roof, Tsutae curled her legs up to her chest and rested her chin a top them. She had changed out of her jeans into a pair of navy colored pajama pants, though she still wore the same black tank top. Tsutae's hair was wet from the bath she had taken and it dripped cold water down her back to soak her shirt. The bitter winter wind picked up and the powdery snow flew in every direction.
Tsutae closed her eyes as a draft blew some into her eyes, but she didn't move. She had been sitting out there for over an hour, doing nothing of importance. Tsutae opened her green eyes and looked down at her toes, which were bare, and tapped them to see how much feeling still remained in them.
Totally numb, just like how the rest of Tsutae's body felt. The numbness was not because of the cold though. Before she had finished her shooting practice, her mother had found her again. Tsutae flinched as she remembered her mother's face as she threw open the large double doors that guarded the stairway from the rest of the second floor. The doors had been a part of the original design, though they were generally kept open. If you were not fast enough to react to a stray projectile, you were not worthy of claiming the name Zoldyck.
"Tsutae!" Her mother shouted just as the doors banged against the stone walls, bringing an abrupt silence as the gunshots paused. Tsutae raised herself from the floor, where she had previously just finished a shoulder roll. Replacing the safeties on the guns, Tsutae approached her mother while every muscle protested.
"Yes mother?" Tsutae asked when she stopped five feet from the obviously furious woman. Her mother's pipe had remained behind in her haste to track down her daughter once she had finished doting on her beloved son, who had inherited the famed silver hair of the Zoldyck heir. Regardless that the main branch had already produced a suitable heir, Vanessa Zoldyck was determined to see her son succeed the family line.
Closing the distance Vanessa struck her daughter across the face with an open palm, the force powerful enough to leave a red mark but nothing more.
"How could you let Illumi finish a target that was your right?!" Without waiting for an answer Tsutae felt her mother's aura become darker and resigned herself to whatever punishment Vanessa was set on meeting out.
Without a word spoken between the two women (for something like this was only too common an occurrence in Tsutae's life) they made their way to the third floor. Tsutae mentally braced herself as she stood like a statue on the once clean stones. After years of abuse, the stones were flecked with dried blood patches and Tsutae could tell you exactly whose blood it was. Much of it belonged to her.
Of course it did, why would her perfect little brother who was 'oh so much better' than her need the extended hours of torture training Tsutae herself had to endure?
As Vanessa moved closer to the wall where thick chains hung down from the ceiling, Tsutae shed her shirt. The inevitable wounds Tsutae was about to receive would be easier to clean if there were not bits of fabric inside them. Tsutae was a self-taught medical expert, but even she was powerless to completely clean wounds made in the center of her back. And Tsutae would make it to Hell and back before she asked her brother for his assistance again.
Tears pricked the corners of the young girl's eyes as she witnessed the true state of her now bloody back. For the past three hours Tsutae's mother had tortured her daughter with different methods, her favourite being the whip as was apparent by the three or four dozen diagonal cuts which were the deepest injuries. They cut not only into her skin, but were intersecting so the wound appeared to be only one single injury as opposed to multiple.
The only five year old Tsutae fortified her mind as she held in her left hand a bottle of rubbing alcohol. She breathed out through her clenched teeth before holding the remaining little breath in. Without wasting another second, Tsutae poured the entire bottle's contents down her back.
Her jaw tightened more as the little girl prevented herself from screaming as the alcohol did its work and slowly seeped into every wound, cleaning it. Tsutae's left hand, which was clutching the bathroom counter, tightened until the skin was a pure, sickly white.
Black swam in front of Tsutae's vision as she refused to close her eyes to the pain and stared stoically at her reflection.
Taking in slow, shallow breaths as the pain began to fade, Tsutae was now left with a decision. Should she wrap her wounds? Or leave them exposed as she slept?
Thinking the better course was the tightly wrap them, Tsutae reached for the sports bandages she had already prepared on the counter. With a little wincing, she managed to grab one and position the end against the middle of her small chest. However, when she began to twist her body so she could wrap the wounds, the pain finally became too much for her young body to bear.
With a muffled whimper, Tsutae's knees gave out and with nothing to support her she collapsed to the floor. Tsutae's legs were tucked beneath her body as she hunched over, feeling the pull of the skin on her back and silently let the tears fall as more pain racked her.
She repeatedly clenched and unclenched her fists as the tears fell and her sobbing became louder. The louder she sobbed, the more pain spasmed down her back, which lead to more pain and more sobbing. It was a never ending cycle for Tsutae. Pain seemed to be her only companion.
"Tae-chan?" Tsutae's eyes open and she tried to stop sobbing as she saw her, also five year old, brother walk into the large bathroom. He rubbed absently at his blue eyes, and gave off a yawn too. Tsutae's sobs must have woken them up. They shared the large bedroom, as it was their mother's way of trying to force them to become closer. If they could not work in synchronization, they were not allowed to call themselves Zoldycks.
"Ha-ha-hakk…" Tsutae tried to say but broke down sobbing once more as the pain returned to the forefront of her mind.
"Geez…" Hakka sighed as he saw his elder sister blubbering like a baby. He was disgusted to think that someone so weak was not only his blood relation, but that she was supposed to be older than him too. Why couldn't she take the pain like him? Was it because she was a girl? Hakka didn't know the answer, but if she kept on crying like this he would never be able to get back to sleep.
So taking it upon himself, Hakka made his way towards the sobbing mess and reached down to grab the bandages.
"Sit up, will ya." He ordered and brushed his sister's hair in front of her shoulders so the strand wouldn't interfere with what he was doing.
Tsutae rubbed at her eyes and straightened her back, trying not to squirm at the fresh pain. More salty tears made their way down her already red and swollen cheeks as Hakka began to wrap her torso for her. Tsutae held her hands on her head as her brother made sure the bandages wouldn't come loose.
Once he was finished, and Tsutae had calmed down a little, the boy stood up and walked back to his bed. Some of the heat had left his sheets while he was attending to his sister, but Hakka climbed in anyways and promptly curled up on his right side and fell into a dreamless sleep.
Tsutae was slower, because she took it upon herself to make sure the bathroom was clean before she sought her bed. If her mother, or any of the maids, saw the rubbing alcohol on the floor Tsutae would be punished. A Zoldyck was not to show weakness or pain no matter the degree, to show the enemy anything other than confidence and skill was an insult to the family name. Since the time of their first breath to their last, a Zoldyck was supposed to be strong and unmovable. They were a world-known family. Even if Tsutae was only the daughter of a branch family, she was still a Zoldyck. Nothing less was expected of her than to train and kill.
Once Tsutae was finished her grueling task in the bathroom, she turned off the light and padded on silent feet to her bed. However, she did not notice in the faint predawn light that her brother had already made his exit. He had gone to see their mother before breakfast, knowing she would only punish him too if he did not tell her about his sister's disgraceful act late last night.
She was a Zoldyck and Zoldyck's were not supposed to cry. Hakka never cried. At least, not where anyone could see him cry. The boy had long shut down his emotions. His soul wept, but he was too blocked off from himself to even know it.
The final crack of the whip brought Tsutae out of her head. Her body was facing the wall, her arms chained so the stretched above her head but her feet were planted firmly to the floor. Her legs were holding up her entire weight as her mother constantly whipped her.
It wasn't until time extended and Tsutae did not hear the tell-tale signs of her mother preparing to hit her again that she pulled her arms free of the chains and walked back towards her shirt, which was still discarded on the blood-flecked stone floor. Where the twenty-three year old had previously been standing was surrounded in fresh, slick bloodstains – which would be left to dry and add their rusty-brown flakes to the history of Tsutae's life.
Vanessa had already exited the third floor room without a word and made her way back to her beloved silk tapestry covered room. Her eldest son Hakka had already retired to his own quarters for the night and on the morrow he would be off to fulfill a contract himself, leaving Vanessa to her own devices in his absence.
Tsutae made her way to the en suite bathroom of her own room. Turning on the taps of the shower, she allowed the steam to permeate the air before she disrobed completely and allowed the hot water the rinse the blood from her back. Tsutae watched with a half-hooded gaze as the pinkish water swirled around and disappeared down the drain. The longer she stood there, the less sting from her wounds she felt and eventually, her entire body was simply left numb. However, that numbness would not last once she left the shower. But Tsutae was already prepared.
Within a hidden compartment of the bathroom vanity, was a dozen small paper packets which contained a powder Tsutae had discovered how to make long ago. It was a numbing agent that still allowed her to be clear of mind, and without side effects. It was simply to help her deal with the wounds and abuse her mother inflicted on her body whenever she was home.
Turning off the shower and forsaking a towel, since it would only get bloody and leave fibers in the open wounds, Tsutae opened the hidden compartment and swallowed dry two packets. The effects would last for twelve hours, since her body was fast building up a tolerance Tsutae needed to consume more and more if she wanted to last for the full time limit of the drug. And one day, Tsutae feared, the drug would be completely ineffective on her body.
Tsutae pulled on her navy blue pajama bottoms once she deemed herself dry enough and painfully replaced her shirt. She would have preferred not to wear a top for the time being, but going to sleep immediately was not an option. Her wounds were too fresh and Tsutae could only sleep comfortably on her back. Even if the medicine numbed her pain, the wounds still need to scab over before she could sleep. So for now, Tsutae was left to stay awake.
Stepping with silent feet, Tsutae made her way to her bedroom window and opened it. With some effort, as the medicine was slow to kick in, Tsutae forced her way onto the roof and there she sat amidst the snow and watched the stars.
With a sigh, now knowing that she had been up here long enough for the drugs to kick in and the constant pulling on her top allowed her back to begin scabbing over without fusing to the fabric, Tsutae stood up and made her way towards the edge so she could swing herself back down and through her open bedroom window.
She still would not be able to sleep for the next few hours, but if she remained out here any longer Tsutae's hair was likely to freeze solid.
Tsutae really disliked this season. Winter was the perfect season… to curse. For Tsutae, nothing good ever came of winter.
A/N: A flashback within a flashback, that's a new one. I've never tried doing something like that but I hope you liked it. Reviews and feedback are always appreciated and I will say this: I do not plan to continue this story (again).