Chapter Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Asami/Akihito

Spoilers: None. Takes place at some point post Pray in Abyss when they've better established a relationship.

Contains: violence, angst

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Yamane Ayano, not me.

Author's Note: You know those stories you make up in your own mind at night before you sleep, where you let yourself be over the top and super angsty and emotional and torture your characters so you can have lots of hurt/comfort and cathartic release and a happy ending after all? Yeah, this is one of those. Normally, I wouldn't share my guilty pleasure id-fic with the public, but ptw30 and I got to talking about it a couple of months ago and she convinced me to start writing it down, so I indulged her. This is all her fault. (That being said, my over-the-topness/angst comfort level is lower than most, so this fic actually doesn't get too traumatizing, haha. And, well, if my mind does occasionally go to Defcon 1 angst levels, I'm not admitting it, and I'm not writing that down. Some things are better left buried in the dark recesses of my subconscious. *g*)

P.S. I know there really are a lot of angsty fics out right now! There must be something in the air. ;) Mine wasn't sparked by the latest chapter of Pray in the Abyss, though. I started writing this a couple of months ago, and I have about half of it written so far. Now, I'm going to search for fluff. J

Akihito wasn't expecting to see Asami home at this time of day, nor was he expecting Kirishima and Suoh to be looking so grim, standing to either side of Asami and staring at Akihito with carefully blank expressions. His heart sped up.

"Did something happen? What's wrong?" His eyes raked over Asami, but the man appeared to be fine. He breathed a little easier, and moved closer. "Asami?"

"You evaded your surveillance today. Where were you?"

"What?" Akihito frowned. "You mean that guy you always have following me? I don't see why you're asking about it now. I do that all the time, don't I?"

"Yes," Asami said coldly. "You do."

"Yeah, then..." Akihito cocked his head, looking at Asami oddly. "You seem mad."

"Do I?"

"Yeah..."

"Then hadn't you better answer my question?"

Akihito scowled. "What is this? I don't know what crawled up your-"

A pained grunt escaped him as Asami shoved him against the nearest wall. He'd moved so fast, Akihito had been too shocked to react.

"Asami! What the hell!"

His eyes went wide as Asami reached for his throat, not squeezing, but holding him there firmly.

"I'll ask one more time. Where were you?" His cold gaze pinned Akihito in place.

His heart was going wild now, beating against his rib cage with painful intensity. "I-I was at a friend's studio, you asshole!"

"I see." Face impassive, Asami studied him. "And what were you doing there?"

Shit.

Akihito ducked his head, his cheeks flushing. "I don't have to tell you that."

Immediately, the fingers around his neck tightened a fraction. He looked back up at Asami in shock.

"You will tell me what I wish to know."

Akihito glared. "You're not my boss, bastard! I'll do whatever the hell I want, and I don't have to tell you anything!"

He was on the floor cupping one bruised cheekbone before he even knew what happened. Stunned, he looked up in disbelief. Even Kirishima and Suoh looked almost shaken. Asami's open hand was still raised, knuckles red from the force of the backhand he'd dealt. His face was utterly blank, though his eyes seemed to shimmer with some turbulent emotion.

It was silent for several seemingly long seconds, until Asami turned away, the hand going into the pocket of his slacks.

"You're right." Akihito stared almost uncomprehendingly at his back as he spoke. "I'm not your boss. I'm your owner. I possess you completely, and though I've been remiss in teaching you that, rest assured that from now I will thoroughly imprint that fact into every fiber of your mind, body, and soul." His chin jerked. "Take him to his new home."

Kirishima and Suoh loomed over Akihito, ignoring his struggles, his curses and pleas to Asami, as they captured his arms and began to lead him away. Asami never turned around.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine.

Turn.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve.

Turn.

One, two, three...

Akihito fell to his knees on the bare floor. Unmarked by any clock-his watch and phone had been taken from him along with the rest of his personal effects-the minutes passed, his shoulders gradually slumped, the minutes turning into hours, numbness and exhaustion subduing him.

His throat was raw from yelling, his hands bruised from the pounding of his fists against the door, the walls, the window. If anyone had heard they hadn't come. The door was locked from the outside, and the one window wouldn't open at all. He'd even tried to break it with the only thing in the apartment that had seemed strong enough for the job-a small square coffee table that was the only piece of furniture other than a tiny sofa. He'd only succeeding in breaking the table, it lay in pieces beneath the apparently shatter-proof window.

If he had managed to break it, he wasn't sure what he would have done anyway. There was no manageable way down. He was on the high floor of some building of some neighborhood, God only knew where. Suoh had blindfolded him and tied his wrists behind him before they had gotten in the car, and he had sat in silence once he had realized that they both would ignore anything he had to say, or even shout. Only the sound of Kirishima coughing occasionally as they drove broke the heavy silence.

His initial panic and hurt and fear had been overridden by his shock, but then the gut-wrenching emotions had begun seeping through again. Despite himself, despite his wounded pride and anger, his blindfold had grown wet. He'd turned toward the window, holding his breath to keep in the sobs that wanted to force their way out of his chest. A litany of denial and questions had filled his thoughts. How could Asami have hit him? Why? There must be some misunderstanding. Asami would show up and explain and then everything would be all right again.

"Kirishima," he had whispered. "Kirishima, I don't understand."

He had felt the man stiffen beside him. He had heard an inhale as if Kirishima was going to speak, but there had been only the rustle of the man shifting position and then stillness and silence again.

Blindly, he'd been led to this room, Suoh's hand around his bicep. He hadn't tried to run. It was only when they'd removed the blindfold and he'd realized that they were going to leave him there, lock him up in that barren space that amounted to one small room and a tiny kitchenette in one corner had he started fighting again.

"You can't! You can't just leave me here!" he'd shouted. "Please, just tell me what I did! Let me talk to Asami!" He'd clung to Kirishima's sleeve while Suoh's bulk had blocked the door. "Please, Kirishima...tell me why. How long are you going to keep me here?"

He had thought Kirishima would ignore him again. He hadn't turned to face him, but Akihito had seen him glance out of the corner of his eye. "That's not for me to say."

"Please."

"Takaba-kun..." Kirishima had exhaled, Suoh a silent sentry by the door, then his face had turned fully away. "There is food in the kitchen. It is for you, and it is your responsibility to clean up after yourself. You will find a clothes hamper in the bathroom. Once a week, your food will be restocked and your laundry taken to be cleaned. This apartment is sound-proofed. Asami-sama owns the building. There is no one else on this floor nor the one beneath you. Please do not think you have any chance of escape. I'm sure you understand that other security precautions have been put in place. Behave."

"Once-once a week?" Akihito had gasped. "What does that mean? You can't keep me here that long! I have a job! I have a life! My friends...my parents...they'll come looking for me. I...I-"

"Takaba-kun," Kirishima's measured voice had overridden his panicked words. "You need to understand. All that you have now is what Asami-sama allows you. For the foreseeable future, that is existence in this room. The sooner you come to accept this, the better."

"What? What are you saying? No!" Akihito had run toward the door, his fists batting ineffectually at Suoh. "I'll never accept it! Let me go!" He hadn't stopped screaming as Kirishima slipped from sight, Suoh's impassive face staring down at him as he'd reeled back from the firm but mild push Suoh had dealt him.

"Let me go!" He had flown forward again, beating at the door, calling their names in desperate pleas. They hadn't come back, but Akihito had rampaged around the tiny room, unable to accept-to process-all that had occurred.

Even when his fight had dimmed, he hadn't been able to stop pacing, his thoughts cycling over and over. And now, he was reduced to this pitiful, useless thing.

Get up, his spirit urged. Find some way out. But his body rebelled, his mind dulled by pain and exhaustion.

He slumped further. Doubled over, his forehead rested on the floor and he finally slept, his unconscious body curling into a fetal position as dreams plagued him.