-1WARNING: Extreme and graphic scenes of the sexual nature are in this particular chapter. I will put in indicators/breakers where the lemon starts and ends, so you guys can skip that part if you're uncomfortable with it.

However, as per the rules in posting on this site, I have toned down the smut as much as I could.


Fragment Four : Canary


Yellow produces a warming effect, arouses cheerfulness, stimulates mental activity, and generates muscle energy. Yellow is often associated with food. When overused, yellow may have a disturbing effect; it is known that babies cry more in yellow rooms. Yellow is seen before other colors when placed against black; this combination is often used to issue a warning. In heraldry, yellow indicates honor and loyalty. Later the meaning of yellow was connected with cowardice.

Yellow is an unstable and spontaneous color, so avoid using yellow if you want to suggest stability and safety. Light yellow tends to disappear into white, so it usually needs a dark color to highlight it. Shades of yellow are visually unappealing because they loose cheerfulness and become dingy.

Dull (dingy) yellow represents caution, decay, sickness, and jealousy.

From Color Wheel Pro


"You belong to me and to me alone."

The words ring hollow in her ears. It is an incessant ringing that she wishes would stop.

She knows that she doesn't belong to anyone else. She is Mom's. Mom is hers. That is the only type of ownership that she can allow.

I can hurt Misuzu.

No, Misuzu is nice. Haruhi likes him. He is kind, and sweet, and loves Mom like a true friend. That's why she took in Haruhi when she had nobody else. She can see that she cares for her.

It makes Haruhi feel secure, warm, as if Mom is there. Maybe she was. Maybe Mom's spirit is in her.

So Haruhi loves Misuzu.

That's why she can't let that man--that dark man--take her, hurt her. It will be like Mom hurting all over again. It's not right. Mom needs to be safe.

And Haruhi agrees. Reluctantly to be sure, but she says yes.

She belongs to him.

It is a lie.

--you own my body, you don't own me--

Another fucking lie.


Kyoya stares down at the boy crumpled at his feet. The boy is breathing heavily, spent yet pleasured by Kyoya.

The boy smiles sleepily at him, reaching with small hands. Kyoya doesn't hold it, keeps his hands at his sides. The boy frowns, sitting up.

"Kyoya-san…" he begins but Kyoya beats him to it.

"Don't call me so familiarly," he snaps.

Kyoya doesn't know what's wrong. He had hired this boy at a new place. They said that he was just a beginner and he would be his first. That got Kyoya pleased. He liked new playthings.

So whywhwywhywhy can't he feel the same?

The same as when he touches that vile woman?

It's not right.

--I see your skin underneath my fingertips, your mouth against my own, your essence under my skin--

And the fact that this boy--small, fragile, brown--looked so much like her did not make his heart jump.

He is going mad.

That's all it was. The vile woman bewitched him.

It is all her fault.

He grabs the boy by the hair.

"Pleasure me."

The boy smiles, eager to take his turn.

"I thought you'd never ask."

That saucy smirk, those narrowed eyes.

They're not the fucking same.

When the boy touches him, all he feels is absolute disgust.

This is not my fault.


Misuzu is worried. She had called Haruhi's former school and they said that she had always been a well-behaved child. A bit antisocial, but that was only because she was always so focused on her studies.

Why, then, had Haruhi been picking fights at school?

It's not like her. Kotoko-chan would roll in her grave if she heard about this.

So Misuzu asks Haruhi.

"They made fun of Mom. They had to break, so I did it. They do not deserve the mercy."

The answer is flat, delivered monotonously. Yet the venom is there.

Misuzu felt herself shiver at that tone.

"But it's not right," Misuzu hedges, clearly at a loss of what to say. "Just don't listen to them, simple as that. Shrug it off or report it to the teachers."

Haruhi stares at spot but doesn't really look at her.

"It's their fault. I acted accordingly. I cannot forgive anything that insults Mom."

Misuzu gives up. She is harder to deal with than Mei!

"Okay, but you are grounded for two weeks," sighs Misuzu, defeated. "You go straight home after school, no TV, and you will help more than usual with the chores."

Haruhi shrugs. It's not a punishment at all if you do the same things you do everyday.

Misuzu sighs again.

"You can go back to your room. I'll call you when dinner is ready."

Haruhi gets up without another word and heads for her room. But in a way, she's sad. Misuzu is disappointed in her.

--Maybe Mom is disappointed in her, too--

Haruhi locks the door behind her and slumps down. The shiver that racks her body threatens to have the tears overflow at last.

They are wet against her cheeks. Salty, bitter, with a slight tang. Like blood.

The tears are real.

She wishes it were blood.


Kyoya is going insane.

He knows that, yet refuses to fully acknowledge it.


She's familiar, that's why. It isn't true desire.

She's disgusting. She's a woman.

Kyoya is walking to school today. Walking helps clear his head.

He spots her, just crossing the street. He waits in the alley.

He grabs her by the wrist, pulling her. Haruhi tries to stop him, surprised.

When she sees that it is him, she just sighs.

The lips press on her immediately, and she does not resist. It is bruising, it is biting.

As if he's got something to prove.

He slams her on the damp wall and Haruhi can feel a bruise swelling at the back of her head.

She groans in pain, which he mistakes for delight.

"Can't do it here," he rasps and pulls her again.

"Where are you taking me?" Haruhi takes the chance to speak. "We have school. I have class…Misuzu will be… What about your perfect record?"

"Shut up!" he roars.

He leads her to a building a few streets away from the school. It is inconspicuous, and quite uninteresting.

He opens the door, and Haruhi sees a hallway lined with doors.

He pulls out a key from his pocket and opens number 212.

The room is simply furnished. A bed in one corner, a desk, a small TV, a desktop, and a phone. A canary yellow curtain fails to block out most of the light pouring in from the closed window.

It looks well-kept and used.

"What the hell are we doing here?"

"This is mine," says Kyoya, throwing her on the bed. And Haruhi knows what he wants. She tries to struggle but he pins her on the bed. She can't move.

Tears well up in her eyes.

--I want blood. Break. Break under me--

Haruhi remembers the promise so Mom wouldn't hurt anymore. That she is his. And she needs to do this to please him.

He removes his jacket, loosens his tie. Kicks off his shoes, unbuckles his belt.

He tries to undress her but she flails, still wanting to protest till the very end.

His hand makes sharp contact against her cheek and she stops. She can taste the blood on her mouth. A bit of it drips on the corner and into the pristine white sheets.

--the same white they put on Mom. Ihatethiswhite--

"Why do you want me so much?" she whispers.

Kyoya bites into her smooth neck, then laves the mark with his tongue.

"Shut up. I don't want you. This is not want."

"Then what is it?"

She stares defiantly at his black orbs screaming lust, anger…and need.


He needs her.

Haruhi looks away, unable to bear the desire she saw. It's not right.

Nobody craves her. Nobody should yearn for her.

She'll start to need, too.

Kyoya licks at the glistening red liquid on her lips. Delicious. As sweet as he imagined. It makes his cock twitch for more.

Her blood is his drug.

He allows that it is her blood that he needs. Not her. Not really her.

He smiles as he removes her clothes hurriedly.

He can live with that.

-- (lemon starts)

Pale, creamy skin greets his eyes as the shirt is removed from the unresponsive girl beneath him. He has seen this before, but it still delights him in so many ways.

He wants to bite at every inch of it, mark her, finally own her. Make that ivory skin turn red from his attentions.

Her neck is so smooth. Not rough with stubble, unlike his many other conquests.

He sinks his teeth on it, unable to help himself. He can smell her fragrance.

Citrus. Some sort of fruit. And her own musk.

Kyoya likes the scent. It captivates him, sends his blood pumping through his veins faster and faster until he can't breathe.

He closes his mouth on hers, as if sucking the very essence of her.

Haruhi doesn't open her eyes, willing it all to be a dream.

She traps her lip between her teeth when he bites. They're painful, hard enough to draw more blood.

His kisses trail lower, his fingers probe and massage every inch of her, inciting the most arousing noises from her. High-pitched squeaks that should grate on his ears, but doesn't.

He wants more. Need her to scream his name in agony and ecstasy.

He removes the last scrape of clothing from her. His gaze travels all over her body.

So pale, so smooth.


And he attacks once more, and Haruhi gasps, the torture too much for her fraying nerves and blown senses.

And it is her that needs more now. Her that wants him everywhere.

She doesn't realize that she has said that out loud and he chuckles darkly.

"Undress me."

It is an order, which Haruhi complies dumbly. Her movements are slow, removing his tie, pulling at his shirt.

Alabaster skin, hard muscles appear before her. She trails a soft finger down, tracing the path of fine ebony hair down.

He shivers at her touch.

The button is undone and the pants are kicked away hurriedly.

Haruhi stares at the bulge underneath his boxers.

His fingers tighten their hold on her waist in agony as she lets her fingertips dance on the waistband.

She reaches up to him.

"What do you want? Tell me," she whispers against his ear, wanting to hear the raw need in his voice.

--control you like you control me--

"Shut up! I call the shots here!" he shouts suddenly. He pushes her back to the bed roughly. She stares at him with wide eyes.

He rips off his underwear, and before Haruhi can blink, he is inside her.

They groan--both in pain, and in pleasure.

He slid in so easily, he thinks dimly. No need for lube.

He is his first girl, and it's so much more different.

So tight, so wet, so sweet.

The sounds of violent sex fills the air with the combined musk of their arousal and need. It is thick, and they cannot breathe.

Haruhi feels the pain.

--so, so much pain; pleasurable pain--

Her insides stroke him, the muscles clutching him at every entrance, at every exit from that tight hole. He is unrelenting, ignoring her pained protests as he reaches further, deeper.

Her head moves from side to side, unable to bear it all.

She wants to burst. She fills so full.

A heated groan escapes her lips and he feels the last of his restraint snap. He growls, and releases.

The liquid hurts her, shooting out inside her.

He collapses on her tired body, sweat shining on their naked bodies.

It was the most violent Kyoya allowed himself to be.

And he loved every minute of it.

Yet he doesn't want to admit that it is because of her.

Fuck the denial.

He doesn't want to move out of her yet, comfortable in his position.

"Let me go," she complains. Her voice is hoarse from the screaming she did.


He reaches up for a kiss, and Haruhi can feel him growing inside her. Her eyes widen.

"We just can't, no…we just…"

His lips drown out her words.

-- (lemon ends)

Much, much later, when Haruhi has left, seemingly unable to walk, Kyoya stares at his bed sheets.

Covered in their liquid, particularly hers. He rips it out of the mattress, fingering the spots of red against the stark white.

Such a lovely contrast.

He folds the sheet carefully and stows it on the closet.

His new plaything is finally breaking.

He found a new favourite. He brings the alcohol to his lips.

He can't wait until he can posses her again.


To Be Continued


A/N: Like it? Hate it? Is it worthy enough to be confetti? Please do tell. It's my second lemon, but I'm still nervous about how I did. A reviewer told me that there are a lot of Kyoya-molests-Haruhi stories out there, and thinks it's gross, but what can I say? I love making new facets of Kyoya. One of my only joys, I'm afraid. So I made it hard-core (sort of) this time. Thanks a lot to my awesome readers and reviewers! You guys make this story happen! XD

One also asked me what the connection is between the colours indicated on the chapter title, so I'm going to put in a meaning of the colour used and you guys can work it out.

Disclaimer: When I tried to court Kyoya, he told me he was gay…so what the hell is he doing making out with Haruhi?