{These characters are not property of me, except for that of Ryuuji. I would never attempt to claim them as my own. This story may not be used without my permission, and may not be used to make money in any way, shape or form. Characters and certain situations were created by Rumiko Takahashi, so don't try any funny stuff!}
by Lara Bartram
"Can I talk to you?"
Ryuuji looked at his mother, saw the look in her eyes. He dreaded that look. He shrank back into his room.
"You come out here now. I have something to say to you." She never raised her voice, she never needed to. The fact that she was his mother was all that mattered.
Ryuuji stepped out into the hall, his heart hammering away in his chest. He took two tentative steps towards his nother, his hands clammy. "Please..."
"None of that. Come in here where I can talk to you in private." She had stepped back into her room, commanding him, beckoning him. He could not refuse.
He whimpered, not understanding why his mother had to do this. He clutched tightly to his clothes, the fear evident on his face. Still, he could not disobey her summons. He entered her room and immediately stood against the wall, it providing some comfort to him.
She closed the door and stood in front of him, her eyes still holding that look. If anyone else had known what the look meant, they would be just as frightened, if not more so, than Ryuuji. She put her finger to his chin and smiled when he flinched. "You know..." She stepped closer, their bodies only an inch apart. "You look just like your father."
They were words he hated to hear, especially from his mother. Ryuuji tried to step back further, to pass through the wall. He was covered in sweat, his whole body hot, except where his mother was touching him. That felt like ice. "Why?" He managed to squeak out.
"Your father's been gone for so long... And you're so sweet." She stepped closer, pressing her body fully against his. Her other hand rested on his chest. "Just do this for me. Do this for your mother..."
Ryuuji wanted to cry out, to run away. He wanted to push his mother away and leave the house forever, but he couldn't. "No," he said in a very small voice. "Please not any more."
Anger showed on her face. "Don't talk to me that way! You will do what you are told!" She stepped back, which relieved Ryuuji for a moment. "Now take off your shirt."
His blood turned to ice. He hesitated one moment too long. She slapped him, marking his cheek. "I said _take off your shirt_!"
He slipped off his shirt, holding back the tears of guilt and shame. Silently he wished that his father had never died. For even at the age of 17, he was too weak to resist Nabiki Tendo.