This chapter contains descriptions of violence, which may be triggering to some readers. Reader discretion is advised. If you or someone you know is being abused, contact law enforcement. It is not advisable to take matters, or the law, into your own hands.

"Yeah, too soon," Yoru mumbled, turning away from his reflection in the mirror. "You can't know that so fast."

Kei chuckled mildly. The sound of his breath whooshing into the speaker made Yoru's ear tingle. "I'm a good judge of character," he said. "I'm not saying I love you. I'm saying I think we'll get along just fine. That's the farthest we can come before such a rushed wedding, right?"

Somehow, that made Yoru feel as upset as it made him feel reassured. "Right," he responded. "Kei?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you a criminal?"

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. Yoru squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the angry tirade to begin. But nothing happened. Another whoosh sounded as Kei noisily released the breath he had drawn in. "Yes," he replied, calmly.

Yoru suddenly remembered his mother's opinion of Kei. "Will I grow to hate you?" he asked.

"I can't answer that for you, Yoru. I hope not."

"I'm sorry," Yoru sighed, folding into himself in exhaustion. "I got paranoid. Things have been going well lately, and I'm not used to it so -"

There was a huge bang, as if someone had kicked the door down. Yoru ran out, phone still pressed to his ear, and he hadn't even reached the foot of the stairs when his mother's scream ripped through the air.

Clearly, he'd spoken too soon and his words had been instantly cursed. His mother was being held by the throat by one of the debt collectors he knew all too well, while another one kept throwing doors open to look for the rest of the family.

"Mom!" Yoru yelled, running into the room. "Hey! Let her go!"

"Yoru!" Kei yelled through the phone. "Hey, what's happening? Talk to me!"

But Yoru wasn't listening. He was too busy dodging the fist that came flying at him. His attacker went stumbling into the coffee table; without stopping to look, Yoru launched himself at the man who was holding his mother. Miriko screamed again as Yoru clocked the man on his ear. He had used tha hand holding the phone, which cracked with the force of the blow. The man cursed in pain as blood spurted from his ear, but didn't go down - instead, he let go of Miriko and pounced on Yoru instead.

"Yoru, run!" His mother screamed, backing away from the second collector.

Yoru knew he wouldn't get five feet before he'd get caught. Dimly, he registered a screaming voice issuing from his phone. "It's my father you want," he said, holding his arms out defensively as the two men turned and began to advance on him. "Go find him."

One of the mean, a tall, gangly fellow with dyed blue hair Yoru knew as Mori, shook his head. "Keeping tabs on him is not our job," he told Yoru. "You know, I collect from a lot of hapless souls but you little shits are a whole new level of stupid. Did you think we wouldn't hear about your wedding?"

Yoru felt sick to his stomach. Unknown to him, the shouting in his phone stopped too. "We did not dupe you," he said carefully, understanding perfectly Mori's implication. "I'm not paying for most of the wedding," he admitted, face burning with humiliation. "We sold our things to pay for whatever little we paid for."

"Oh, so you had stuff to sell for a wedding, but you don't have anything to sell to pay us back?"

Yoru narrowed his eyes. "It is not my debt," he spat. "I've done enough, handing over paycheck after paycheck to my father so he can pay you back."

Mori laughed. "What the hell? Where are all these cheques? We didn't get a dime."

All of Yoru's fight left him. His knees gave way and he fell to the floor with a small groan, clutching his head in despair. All that money - over a million yen he had slaved away for since he graduated high school - his father had blown away on alcohol. Six years of working thirteen hours a day, tolerating Ito's harassment and putting his life on the line, had amounted to nothing. "Not a dime?" he whimpered at Mori, with one last shred of hope.

"Maybe once or twice, when we put a gun to his head." The sob Yoru released made even the toughened debt collectors flinch, but there was no getting around the situation. "You have to give us something," Mori said, while his companion shuffled uncomfortably. "Money's way overdue, boy. I won't be nice for much longer."

"I have nothing," Yoru said in despair. "There's nothing."

"Then your jewelry will have to do."

The next second, Mori and his companion were on Yoru, pinning him to the floor and trying to wrench off his engagement ring. With a wild yell, Yoru began to struggle violently, thrashing and biting and kicking for all he was worth, his throbbing head be damned. In the most remote recesses of his mind, he wondered why his mother wasn't calling for help.

Unfortunately, fespite his best struggles, the ring came off. "GIVE IT BACK!" Yoru roared, horrified at seeing his one way out of this hellish life slipping out of his hands. Desperation and rage drove all fear out of his mind and he attacked them, hitting and scratching with all his strength. But a small omega was no match for the two burly Betas, and he was quickly hurled into the kitchen island.

By now, Yoru was utterly exhausted. Blinded with pain, he tried to sit up with a groan. "Wait," he called drunkenly, unable to tell exactly how upright he was. "My father's office...upstairs. Last door. Take everything."

"Are you crazy!" Miriko finally spoke up, stepping forward only to be blocked by the two men from reaching her son. "If he finds out, he'll -"

"All's lost anyway." Yoru was incredibly dizzy now and slumped against the wall. "His checkbook, laptop, maybe a few of my paychecks. I'm sure there's enough information in there to access his bank account."

"Well, why didn't you say so before?" Mori asked, dusting himself off and holding up the ring to the light to admire it. "Would've saved us all a lot of trouble."

"Because he's as bad as you are," Yoru responded scathingly. "Maybe even worse. Take whatever you want. Just give me my ring back."

"You must really love the guy, eh?" Mori commented, motioning for his companion to follow Yoru's instructions.

"No. He's simply my ticket out of here," Yoru replied frankly.

Much to everyone's surprise, Yoru was right - there was enough stuff in that office to reduce the debt by some two million yen. The debt collectors seemed to hit the lottery when they found, in a drawer full of loose cash, a notepad with their debtor's account PIN. Mori left his companion to guard Yoru and Miriko and stepped out with the PIN and a debit card he found - and came back very satisfied, his left pocket bulging with a thick wad of cash.

"You did well, my boy," he grinned at Yoru, showing off his prize to the other man. "It's not all the money, but here." With a small clink, Yoru's engagement ring landed next to the omega's foot. "Because I'm damn impressed by your guts and brains."

Mori left Yoru breathing unsteadily on the floor and Miriko crying hysterically. Once the door had shut behind them - more precisely, jammed awkwardly into its broken hinges - Yoru heaved himself into a lopsided sitting position and turned to face the indistinct blob that was his mother. "Leave," he told her. "It's going to get worse when dad gets home."

"I'm not going anywhere." With superhuman effort, Miriko swallowed her sobs and went up to her son, inspecting him for injuries. That was when she noticed Yoru's phone, screen cracked, body scratched, line still connected, lying at the foot of the couch. Somehow, during the struggle, it had been kicked from the foyer to the living room, managing to stay intact enough to keep the call going. And on the other end of the line was Kei, still listening in horrified silence.

"You'd been talking to that boy?" Miriko asked shortly, unable to keep the ice out of her voice.

"Yes," Yoru responded.

"...he's still here."

"Shit!"

Yoru surged forward, trying to grab his phone, but his head was hurting so badly he couldn't see. He faceplanted into the carpet, moaning in misery. "Give it to me," he begged. "Please."

Miriko was displeased, but complied so Yoru would stop trying to stand up. She helped him into a sitting position, handed the phone to him and guided his hand to his ear, scowling the entire time. "Kei," Yoru said.

"Yoru." Kei's voice shook with fear and shock. "I...I sent some boys over...doctor. I sent him too."

"I'll be fine," Yoru said, despite the tangible pain in his voice. "I'm just...winded."

"No! I heard what you said about your father coming home. I won't-"

As if on cue, police sirens began to sound in the background. "Send them back," Yoru ordered, motioning for his mother to deal with the cops. "The police is here. There's nothing you can do."

"Of course there is! You were attacked, I can ask my boys to pretend to be witnesses - something, anything -"

"We're in the wrong. My dad borrowed from loan sharks and couldn't pay the money back." Yoru gave an unhinged chuckle. "If the cops get involved, all our debt will come out into the open. We'll have to declare bankruptcy."

"No, you won't! I will help pay it back-"

"Stop right there," Yoru snapped, suddenly sounding a lot stronger. "I was sold to Ito as payment of this debt. I refuse to have you treat me like a purchase too."

"Yoru, be practical," Kei pleaded. "You know it isn't like that -"

"It is exactly like that! Don't you see? It isn't me you'd be letting off the hook - it's my father! it's his debt!"

"It's your life!"

"I'd die a million times over if that's what it took to make my father pay up," Yoru growled fiercely. "Send your boys back, Kei. This is my problem. I will deal with it my way."

"Just let them hang around there and keep watch. They won't do anything unless those men or your father try to hurt you."

"I'd rather they didn't. I've taken worse. He won't kill me, you know. I'm his only bargaining chip."

"Are you kidding me?" Kei exploded, making Yoru jump. "You have a crack in your skull! You've been tossed around like a ragdoll! You know what? Fuck this nonsense, I'm coming over right now-"

"No! Don't, please-"

"Just shut up and stay put! Nakamura? Nakamura! Get the car out - never mind my arm -"

Kei cut the call. Panic exploded within Yoru's body like steam from a geyser and he began to hyperventilate. Miriko, who'd just managed to send off the policemen after hiding the broken hinges and wood behind her own body, rushed over and tried to calm him, but to no avail. Yoru was gone, unable to think of anything except his father's violence and the impending altercation with Kei.

Murphy's law held strong that night. Everything that could go wrong, did: a monstrous cloudburst began mere minutes after Kei cut the call, severely disrupting traffic. Even with the Tsunoda group's doctor, a car full of Kei's men and Kei all rushing to Yoru's aid, Yoru'a father managed to reach home first.

Yoru had just managed to crawl onto the couch when his father walked in. "What happened to the door?" he demanded.

Miriko flinched, but didn't respond. "The collectors came," Yoru replied in her stead. "They took all your money."

Yoru was too disoriented to see the look of disbelief that appeared on his father's face. It would have been hilarious if it weren't the prologue to a much nastier consequence. Resigned to his fate, Yoru remained seated on the couch as his father hobbled up the stairs and almost instantly released a furious roar. "Mom, I suggest you run now," Yoru said.

She didn't. As her husband came barreling down the stairs with murder in his eyes, she threw herself off the couch and blocked off his path. "He's already hurt," she pleaded. "Please. He's getting married soon, please don't hit him-"

One right hook and Miriko flew into the banister. The crash jolted Yoru into motion and he stood up too, shouting at his father to stop. But the old man didn't: apopletic with rage, he ruthlessly kicked and hit his wife, who didn't utter a single sound of protest. "Stop, you monster, you'll kill her!" Yoru yelled, stumbling towards his parents.

He knew he couldn't fight his father in his weakened condition. Picking up the lamp from a side table, he drove it into his father's back before throwing himself down over his mother. As his father danced manically in pain and anger, he curled himself protectively around his mother - a split second before blows began to rain down on him.

Miriko couldn't stop screaming. Try as she might, she couldn't get Yoru to release his death grip on her. All she could do was watch, terror-struck, as Yoru's groaning and convulsing grew weaker and weaker.

And then they stopped altogether.
***
Note: Yoru's reluctance to give up his father is a very real phenomenon. Domestic violence victims, especially those who are abused by a family member, are often afraid to report their abuser for fear of greater retribution. Never try to take matters upon yourself - you never know what the abuser is capable of. Contact law enforcement, a lawyer or some other legal service.