[The first couple times Tamaki had seen it, there had been attempts to discuss it. Attempts Kyouya had quickly cut off. Because discipline was a private matter, and it was humiliating enough that his father had decided their guest either didn't matter enough to show discretion around or was important enough that he could be allowed to see and understand. Kyouya had learned long ago how to stand firmly in place, how to time the slap to move his head a bit to take off some of the pain, and how not to make even the slightest sound when it happened.
At the fair... was another story entirely.
But the fact remained that he did, in fact, know of no other way to discipline a child. If anything, he considered himself tenfold or beyond more patient than his father. He'd attempted to explain. He'd given the boy an opportunity to apologize and change his behavior. He'd refused, so he'd done what was necessary.
He was flexing his hand a bit, his palm still bright red, far more unused to giving the punishment than receiving it, when he heard Tamaki say his name. He looked up, wondering for a moment if... But he'd glanced around, he thought. Made sure there wasn't anyone else to see. ...Was it to save Link or himself the witnesses? Maybe both.]
no subject
At the fair... was another story entirely.
But the fact remained that he did, in fact, know of no other way to discipline a child. If anything, he considered himself tenfold or beyond more patient than his father. He'd attempted to explain. He'd given the boy an opportunity to apologize and change his behavior. He'd refused, so he'd done what was necessary.
He was flexing his hand a bit, his palm still bright red, far more unused to giving the punishment than receiving it, when he heard Tamaki say his name. He looked up, wondering for a moment if... But he'd glanced around, he thought. Made sure there wasn't anyone else to see. ...Was it to save Link or himself the witnesses? Maybe both.]
Tamaki.
How are you feeling?