The walls all looked the same no matter where he went. It was disgusting and horrible, but he observed each one regardless. Surely there would be a difference eventually. Not every wall can be the exact same when made out of wood and leaves. He sometimes imagined blood splattered on these walls, or he would envision pinning the dead bodies of those damned twins.
It all remained in his head as he felt his face grow gaunt despite the regular baths and meals. His face never had the strength to shift in disgust when he would be taken to a place that resembled a cult's worship ground. He felt nothing pressing despite the horror of blood flowing free from the hunter's arms as they chanted what sounded like a prayer.
He learned to call them hunters instead of barbarians. It wasn't that he felt guilt for them, but he felt slightly empathetic when they would worship the albino twins in such a way. He felt sorry when those glances of jealousy were pointed toward him. After all, why would a domesticated pet need to worship its masters?
During these worshipping days at the altar, the twins never took their hands off of him. Not even once. Whether he was perched on one of their laps or being caressed, the scorching burn of their skin engraving his was always present.
His days had blurred together just as his mind had begun to confuse his disgust for gratefulness. He hated himself most when he caught himself thinking about how 'wonderful' and 'gracious' the twins were for taking him in.
He hated himself even more when he thought that on the nights they wanted to play with him. On those nights he would stay up after the devilish twins had fallen asleep in their comfort. On those nights he would barely manage to crawl out of bed and find the sharp metal he left at the foot of the bed.
Tsuna couldn't afford to be gentle. He couldn't let himself feel the faux comfort that was being waved in front of his face enticingly. It took about ten little cuts to his arms and thighs to remind himself of that. He realized the fifth time that the him from before would have found horror in what he was doing.
It wasn't much compared to the torture he once faced in that cell. It was nothing compared to the nights he was played with by the twins. It was more comfort rather than anything painful. It was his own comfort that the twins never knew how to question.
It was one of those nights when he noticed the leaves through the window. There was a chill through the air as he grabbed hold of one of the leaves flying close. It was brittle and crumbled with ease under his touch. He narrowed his eyebrows, scrunching his nose, and showing the most emotion on his face in...
How long had he been there? How long had it been since his voices left? How long had the leaves been withering?
The questions racked his mind as he felt the stress accumulate. He found himself craving either home or death, looking out through the window longingly. He could jump. End it all. Be done with surviving, but what if life hated him enough to make him live through it? It wasn't like he cared about the pain that would follow. Pain felt like the nothingness in the brittle leaves at that point. He was much more concerned about being punished again.
He decided against jumping or falling out of the window. He decided against the punishment that would happen depending on whether or not he died. Perhaps he could have tried appealing to those twins, but that idea in itself revulsed him.
As he trudged his way back to the bed, he felt his emotions shut down once more. He was slowly getting used to the on and off of his feelings on the matter. He had to in order to survive. That word felt so bitter on his tongue now.
The morning after came and there was a light dusting of snow outside. He watched while on some sort of cushion that was in between the twins's lavish chairs. The two sat and watched in amusement as they made their worshippers fight in the snow. Frostbite seemed to eat at the feet and hands of the hunters as they hit each other violently.
Tsuna was pleasantly bundled in warm clothing that matched the twins's own clothes. He wondered briefly underneath the hum of static where they acquired their materials. He wondered if there were gatherers as well as the hunters who search for things like metal and the type of cloth like that rag.
He wondered if there were survivors on the island who managed to escape them, and the hunters would steal from them instead of finding their own.
There was a piece of fruit in front of his face as he lazily trailed his eyes to the woman who sat in the chair on his left. He opened his mouth obediently, letting her feed him as more static questions were made. What were the chairs made of?
As he ate the fruit given to him, the man in the other chair ran a hand through Tsuna's hair. They both said something to him in a questioning tone only to get no response. It wasn't like they expected one. Tsuna had a feeling they only asked questions to seem more appealing.
It felt pointless, but it contributed to his doubts nonetheless. He hated himself.
There was blood scattered across the snow, reaching close to where Tsuna was.
The woman stood suddenly, contorting her pink lips into a hideous scowl. She yelled something angrily as her twin quickly gathered Tsuna onto his lap in a false sense of security.
Tsuna turned away from the hunter's being dragged away. He tried to ignore the blood-curdling screams that echoed through Tsuna's hollow body. He felt a hand on his back drifting down until, like a switch, it all went black.
He woke up to the cold feel of something around his neck and the twins fawning over him as they played with a chain. His hand drafted up and found something heavy fastened tightly around his neck. A shackle.
He wondered why. He wondered if he had done something wrong, but he only found adoration and amusement in the eyes of the devils. It was a collar more than a shackle, he assumed.
The man grabbed onto the chain and tugged at it, watching and laughing happily when Tsuna's body moved with it in one simple motion. He continued to tug and drag Tsuna around the room, seeming fine with the fact that there was no strength in Tsuna's legs to walk around.
Then again, Tsuna couldn't find it in himself to care that he was being dragged on the ground. He would care in the night. He would care in the solace of metal dragging through his flesh. He would care in the thoughts of death only to find grounding in the fear of survival.
There was truly nothing as convoluted as a pet- as a human's mind. He was human. He was alive. He would survive.
The twins brought him outside, dragging him against the floor and avoiding the snow dusting the ground just a little further beyond the wooden deck. It seemed to blanket what used to be lush green grass. They continued to drag him until they reached a few guards. One of them was a guard that Tsuna remembered biting when he was still—rebellious, angry—alive. That one stared down at the brunet smugly and seemed to be taunting him despite knowing Tsuna would not understand his words.
He must have crossed a line considering the female twin snapped and ordered something of the other two guards which resulted in the cocky man being removed from sight. She was still fuming when she crouched down and held Tsuna's face in her hands. She kissed his nose gently, and Tsuna, for the first time in a while, felt his anger boil back up above the static.
She moved away before he could do anything. She took the chain connected to his shackle to pull him just like before.
Tsuna's anger subsided below the static once again. Good, he thought to himself. It was better to keep it to himself. It was better not to think too much during the day. He could save that for the night. He wasn't a pet. He wasn't crawling. He was a human being dragged on the ground. He was being treated like a domesticated animal.
It all went black when a hand touched the nape of his neck.
It all came back in the dim of the night. There was moonlight streaming through the window along with the freezing wind. Tsuna sluggishly turned his head to look at the leaves that were blossoming strangely into crimson flowers. They seemed to embrace the cold and dark light of the moon.
He felt a weight settle across his body. It was a blanket. It was his blanket. Two figures hugged him tightly, muttering nonsensical words into his ears as they protected and guided him.
He could feel the warmth of home. He could feel the love and care of his mom's cooking. He could reach for them once again.
He could hear the playful insults and dumb movie nights that were always a must. He never wanted to leave, but then it was out of his reach before he could even think about a second more. He nearly cried out longingly for what escaped him. He nearly broke down and begged the phony God up above to just let him go home.
It wasn't fair that he had to be alone through this. Maybe he was selfish for wanting someone there with him, but it was the horrid truth and the honest emotion.
His eyes opened to the cold wind and moonlight. He found the leaves blooming those ruby red flowers. He wondered if Mammon would like them-
There was a weight on him once again. There was a weight so unsettling that Tsuna's whole body tensed as he turned his head to see the monster suffocating his body with pressure and lust.
There she was. On top of him again with her counterpart watching and caressing Tsuna's face. The moment her hands wandered, something snapped inside of Tsuna as he used all the strength in his body that he could muster. He couldn't take it anymore.
Since the start, he'd imagined killing them. All of them only to be given a harsh awakening. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't.
He toppled her over so that she was the one on her back and pressed his thumbs into her eyes, watching her squirm and scream in pain. He only pressed harder as he felt the other try and get him off of her. There was crimson blood escaping from the sockets he pressed his thumbs further and further into.
He wouldn't budge. When he finally ripped away his thumbs from her eyes, he could no longer see that red, piercing stare. He only saw crimson blood coat his thumbs before he began to scratch and tear at her face, ripping her apart.
When hands grabbed him again, he snapped his gaze toward the other albino twin, growling as he lunged like a wild animal. He used his teeth to rip into the male albino's throat aggressively as every ounce of rage he ever had poured and exuded from him.
His body shook as he watched his torturer die and gasp. He couldn't stop himself from digging open the wound he had inflicted.
He started to laugh and laugh and laugh until he could only sit up and gasp in the large bed, looking to his sides to see the twins very much alive and content. He only laid back down, feeling dirtied and angry about his own helplessness.
He wasn't even sure when he fell asleep. He felt so damned insane the longer he lived.
"Fuck," he rasped, allowing himself that momentary lapse in emotion before playing the role of their lifeless pet.
He waited briefly for sharp, honest responses to ground him. He waited for gentle truths to soothe him. He then had to remember that he cast them out in anger. He refused their grounding and soothing.
He was alone and it was all his fault.