Kasuka had been gone. Out with mother, rehearsing for the lead role in a childrens' movie. Shizuo dreaded that day when Kasuka hopped into the back seat of the car and waved to him. He dreaded the look he saw his mother shoot to his father. It was a scary look, young Shizuo thought. It seemed to say 'Hurt him and I will find out.'

But Shizuo looked back into the cold, empty stare of his father, who in return looked back down at him with a twisted smirk.

"We're going to have fun, aren't we?"

The car turned and was gone, eaten up by the bend in the rode and the hill blocking the view. Shizuo knew that his strength could not conquer what was to come that night, and the nights after. A whole two weeks, to be exact.

And no more than two days later, Shizuo was at least a mile away from his house, down by a small little creek about two miles from the city. The 11 year old was still sore. He rubbed his arms gently, which were grazed in scratches and bruises. One hand traveled to his neck, which was equally covered in large, purple marks. They throbbed at the touch. His behind also groaned in protest at whatever little movement the brunette boy attempted.

He studied little snails under the surface of the murky water, clinging to rocks covered in algae. The stream was infested with algae. Shizuo guessed this was the stream city sewage led out into, and didn't dare step in, despite how much his wounds needed cleaning.

His heart felt twisted. He felt dirty. Most of all, he felt like a monster. Such things, he had heard his mother telling his father, were disgusting and inexcusable. Did that mean mother thought of him as disgusting and inexcusable? Was father punishing him? Or what his father the disgusting one?

His head hurt from all the thinking. He clutched his ears in an attempt to stop the ringing from inside his head. He heard his father's voice. The same from last night.

It was husky and rugged. It seemed sarcastic and mocking. Shizuo had been able to look over his shoulder as well, to see a cruel yet pleasured look on his father's face as he tortured his raw insides.

"This is your fault. You provoked me. Bitch. Bitch. You're disgusting, Shizuo. You're distorted." And Shizuo would be thunked on his head. He could recall his vision darkening, and figured he must have passed out. But he was still aware of the painful fucking at his lower half. He was still aware of the blood on the mattress beneath him and his father. His own father.

Shizuo started to weep. He pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face in them. He choked on loud, shaky sobs, his whole body convulsing and shivering. He didn't want to remember, but he could stop the picture of his father's face from returning into his mind. Or those words.

You're disgusting. Distorted.

"You are crying. Why?" A small voice rose from behind the brunette, who spun around and wiped his face furiously with his sleeve. A raven-haired boy with sparkling crimson eyes squatted down in front of him.

Shizuo suddenly felt a pang of jealousy. The boy in front of him looked so perfect. There was not a single bruise or scrape on his pale skin. His smile was wide, and his eyes were bright with happiness. Shizuo could not remember the last time he himself had looked like that.

"None of your business."

The boy across from him was not fazed. Shizuo wondered if he had even heard.

"My name is Izaya. What's yours?"

The friendliness of Izaya irritated the the brunette greatly. How dare he talk to him as if he knew him!

"Shizuo," he growled lowly. Izaya's annoying grin grew and he shoved his hand out to Shizuo, who only stared at it warily. "I will call you Shizu-chan! Do you like that name, Shizu-chan?"

Shizuo snapped as he studied those arms. So perfect. He wished he was untouched and perfect. It wasn't fair. Izaya didn't deserve all that happiness! If Shizuo couldn't, no one could!

Izaya yelped as his wrist was snatched into an iron grip. "Shizu-chan! That hurts!" He squirmed, his smile wavering. He clearly wasn't sure if Shizuo was serious or was playing.

The rage swelled inside of Shizuo, twisting his face into a scowl. Izaya continued to pry at the hand on his wrist, whining and complaining. How dare he! He didn't know real pain! Shizuo would show him what he had to go through!

Izaya let out a pained cry as he was shoved onto his back. He stared up, wide eyed, at Shizuo, who was then looming over him with an arm on each side. His gaze was dark and malevolent. His scowl frightened Izaya.

Shizuo hooked his fingers onto the hem of Izaya's pants and ripped them clean off, underwear and all. He ignored the startled cry that rose up from beneath him, and pried the legs apart and threw them on either side of him. His hands fumbled with his zipper and he pulled out his limp length, stroking it to life slowly. Izaya stared up at him in fear. He had no idea what had been going on, and feared if he even wanted to know.

His thoughts were cut short as Shizuo penetrated him roughly and without warning. He shrieked and thrashed about, only to be flipped over, his waist held firmly and Shizuo bucked up into him harder. His screams grew louder with each erratic thrust. Shizuo felt blood smear the front of his pelvis, and his own conscience screamed at him to stop.

You're too strong! You're hurting him!

But he didn''t. The screams of Izaya angered him further. He grabbing onto the raven locks and shoved Izaya's face into the dirt. The boy came up babbling and pleading, dirt smearing with the tears on his face.

Something isn't right Shizuo told himself. Father does this with such a normal expression. Father doesn't have to keep stroking himself to remain hard...

"Shizu-chan...!" Izaya pleaded, his voice worn out and raspy from all his screaming. It was then just above a whisper. "Why are you killing me? What did I do, Shizu-chan...?"

Shizuo grumbled out a reply through all his thrusting, not knowing the reason he was doing this either. He was not focused on the very small amount of pleasure he felt. He was too focused on Izaya's trembling body.

His terrified look. The sorrow. The tears and mud caked onto his face as his forehead pressed into the ground and his fingers dug into the dirt. Shizuo then wondered if that was how he looked when father had first done these things to him.

He wondered if this made him like Daddy, and Izaya was like him.

Izaya was now in Shizuo's shoes, feeling everything he felt. Shizuo reminded himself that he knew the pain Izaya was feeling. But it didn't feel as great as he wanted it to be to show Izaya these feelings. It only felt like he had destroyed something beautiful.

Like he had plucked all the petals from a glorious flower. And he himself was also a flower plucked of its petals. Daddy was the hand which tore away the innocence and beauty from Shizuo, and now Shizuo was tearing away the same petals he wished he still could possess.

With that thought, Shizuo stopped thrusting into that tight cavern and pulled away. Izaya pulled his knees to his chest and wept softly. Shizuo reached out, but couldn't bring himself to touch Izaya.

He feared to be pricked by the thorns.

"Izaya," Shizuo wept. The younger boy did not reply.

"Izaya, I'm so sorry..."

Shizuo gathered Izaya's torn pants and underwear and folded then neatly by his victim's head.

Still no response.

Shizuo brought his hands to his face and cried softly, guilt washing over him. He turned and ran back in the direction of his house, leaving the bloodied boy alone by the creek.

I am the hand who plucked the petals from a flower.

But I was pricked by it's thorns.


A/N: Well, this is the most depressing thing I've written. o-o But if you liked it, hated it, or felt it could have been better, please review and critique. It was hard to bring myself to write this, considering I'm one who usually writes humorous fics. But I am pretty proud of it, despite how hard it was to bring it to a powerful ending... Or at least, I hope it was a powerful ending. You tell me. ^_^