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Shinoa Squad

Note: For all you confuzzled readers, Kimizuki = Shiho. They're the same person.

Yuu's POV:

Blinking blearily as I squinted in the poorly lit room, I focused upon the one source of light within my field of vision.

Who is that...? Two figures were sitting at a familiar kitchen table, a flickering candle illuminating their faces as they quietly conversed. Could it be...?

"Father? Mother?" I found myself kneeling on a hard, wooden floor.

The talking immediately ceased and the candle went out as they became merely dark silhouettes outlined against the dimly lit room. One of the silhouettes stood up from the kitchen table and began to walk towards me. As the figure drew closer and closer to me, bit by bit I could make out their features.

Father.

He froze in the doorway of the living room, hands behind his back as he made eye contact with me, pupils dilating as a sickly, fake smile made its way across his face.

"Hello Yuu," he cooed. "Can you do a favor for me?"

I shook my head in a silent no, but it was clear that it made no difference. Even with his eyes wide open and staring at me, his gaze was unfocused, blank. He gave another fake smile, and took on what he must have assumed was a comforting tone. His hands remained behind his back.

"Good. Close your eyes and count to five then, and then, you'll make daddy and mommy happier than you've ever seen them."

I continued shaking my head frantically and began to back away, but my father didn't stop counting, nor did he stop coming towards me.

"5...4...3...2...1...!" On 1, he whipped out a knife from behind his back, lunging at me viciously. I backed away quickly, the knife just barely missing me and shredding the front of my pajamas instead. He gave a tight smile and lunged again, this time burying the knife up to its hilt in my arm. Crimson blood spurted out of the deep wound, running in rivulets down my arm in and dripping rapidly onto the dark oak floor. Letting out a loud scream of pain as I clutched my wounded arm, I dropped to the floor as my father drew out the knife to stab me once more.

"Damn!"

I felt the knife speed past me, thunking into the floor beside me. Seeing my father begin to advance towards me once more, I started to scoot away. His once combed-down hair was now sticking out wildly in all directions, and crimson splatters of blood stained his pale blue sweater and hands.

"Aw, what's wrong Yuu? Don't you want to have your parents be happy?"

My father still maintained that sickening, comforting tone even as he struggled to pull the knife out from between the crack in the floorboards. As he failed for the fourth time to yank out the knife, his distant smile turned to one of pure hatred.

"WHY WON'T YOU JUST FUCKING DIE?!"

In a fit of pure madness, he began to rant at me, spittle flying from his mouth and hitting my face. I drew back in disgust, simultaneously wiping my face with my one good arm and backing away frantically. Seeking refuge, I huddled in the corner of the living room, cowering against the wall as my father stabbed me again and again, this time with his cold words. I almost wish it was the knife.

Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me. What bullshit...

"You're fucking demon spawn! A monster, a murderer! You should never have been born into this world! You're a failure to us, the son we never wanted, and a threat to the entire human race!"