I ground my teeth as I dug the knife into the flesh over my left shoulder. While I didn't like utilizing this area, it was my only option. Lately, I'd been adding more and more scars to my arms. It pissed me off that I couldn't figure out why, either. I pressed firmly on the blade before ripping it across my skin. Hissing through my teeth, I brought the knife back up, readjusting my grip on the handle. My forearms were a smattering of purple lines. My self harm having ramped up in severity over the last month or so.

It's been three months since Yukio shot me, three months since I started this demented habit. Months. I've realized that the deadline above my head was counting down, the numbers getting smaller and as the days passed. Yet, I was nowhere near completing the task that the Grigori had set forth for me. I knew it would be almost impossible when I'd started. But I feel as tho I'd procrastinated and now I was paying the price.

Shura hasn't mentioned the Grigori for a few weeks now. Which was surprising seeing as how she knew it was what drove me in my practices. However, I think she knew just as well as I did that I was going to fail.

I'd be executed.

While the idea of ending this pathetic life was entertaining, that didn't mean I didn't want to live. It was a precarious situation. And as I drove my knife into my skin again, I knew that it would be by my own hands that I'd make the final decision. The Grigori may have given me a deadline, but they wouldn't be the ones to kill me. I wouldn't give them that satisfaction. The tip of my knife trembled and it startled me. I realized my whole body was wracked in tremors and I lowered my weapon. I didn't want to die, but if I had to, it would be on my own terms.

I wanted to live. I wanted to wake up in the morning, begrudgingly, as Yukio ripped the blankets off of me. I wanted to go to school and laugh at the drama that was circling around campus. I wanted to go to cram school and laugh as the other students were tackled by demons in gym class. I wanted to sit next to Izumo and listen to her call me an idiot when I asked about her day. I wanted to become an Exorcist, just like my brother and Dad.

My life was finally starting to get better. Yukio and I were back on good terms. And the smiles he gave me blossomed so deep in my heart I swear there was a meadow growing inside of my ribcage. I was excelling in my classes, and not just in cram school, but in day classes, as well. Despite my depression, I'd somehow found the urge to do well in my academics. Maybe it was purely out of spite from being called lazy for so long. And Kamiki-chan. I realized that I had no shot with her, but that didn't mean I didn't want to try. The way she blushed when I complimented her made my stomach dance with butterflies. She would always return the praise back to me, and she wasn't the only one. Yukio, Shura, and most of the cram school students have offhandedly mentioned my hard earned success.

Yet, despite all of it, I still felt so worthless.

I knew my life was coming to an end, so why couldn't I just enjoy it up until then? Why did my emotions get so violent? With every praise, every accomplishment, my brain would clap back with some sort of negativity. I would never be good enough, I was never meant to be good, at all. I was the son of Satan, all I did was destroy; and that included myself.

It.

I grunted, bringing my knife back up to my shoulder and tearing a new injury. I was a hopeless, nameless, sonovabitch. I wasn't a being, I was an object, a weapon only referred to as an it. I was going to be used, examined, and disposed of when the Grigori pleased. The Vatican received a six month free subscription to a half demon hybrid, and they planned on cancelling it the day of the renewal period.

Sighing, I flipped the knife closed and shoved it into my pajama pocket. I grabbed my discarded hoodie and threw it on. My time was limited on this earth, and If I wasn't able to experience any happiness, I'd at least indulge in my addiction.

As I pushed open the bedroom door, Yukio turned to me, an inquisitive look on his face. I wasn't expecting him to be home so soon. "Where were you?" He questioned.

I chewed on my lip, flickering through my mind for a buyable excuse. "I was dusting," I finally settled on, and I watched his nose scrunch up slightly. It was his least favorite chore, so I knew he wouldn't press much further, not unless he wanted to risk me pawning it off on him next time.

I'd gambled successfully, as he shrugged and moved to the closet. He pulled his button up off, exposing the skin underneath. I admired his unharmed skin, a bit envious. That emotion died, quite brutally, when my consciousness snarled that my maimed flesh was my own doing in the first place.

"Question for you," my twin's voice broke me from my thoughts. I blinked a few times, realizing he'd changed into casual attire and I wondered how long I'd been zoned out. "You know that mission we have tomorrow?" I simply hummed in response. "We will have a bit of time before we go. I was wondering if you wanted to maybe make some sort of dessert so we could all munch before we go."

I quirked an eyebrow, "we've had tons of missions before, and we've never brought snacks to them. What's different this time?"

He shrugged, "I see how hard everyone is working, and I want to congratulate them. Maybe it's because it's my first year teaching, but I'm just proud of you guys and want to bring up the morale."

I scoffed at him, but it quickly turned into laughter. "Oh, so you want to congratulate us, but you're gonna have me do the baking?" I rolled my eyes, "what a treat!"

He tried to defend himself, but I heard the humor in his words. "Hey, now, I never said I wouldn't help. It's just, I know if I make them myself, I'd burn the dorm down."

"At least the fire would be orange."

He snorted, "good one."

Across the room, a sleeping Kuro began to stir. I turned to look over at him, his body stretching before he pushed himself into a sitting position. "Good morning," he yawned, rubbing a paw to his face.

I laughed, "good evening, Kuro."

My twin chuckled lightly, and I turned to face him, again. "So? Whatcha think?"

I feigned thought for several seconds, tapping my finger to my chin. "I don't know..."

"I'll buy your next manga volume."

Oh, now that sweetened the deal. I had planned on agreeing either way, but this was definitely a positive. "Deal, get your ass downstairs, you're the next star on British Bake-off." My teal-eyed twin shook has head at my weak joke, but headed for the door, nonetheless. Kuro jumped from his perch, as well, mentioning that he wanted to lick the bowl when we were done. I watched as they exited the room, waiting a few moments before walking toward my bed. I dropped to my knees and fished out my knife.

I knew my hiding spot was a bit obvious, but why fix it if it's not broken? No one seemed suspicious, so I didn't have to worry about moving it. Not to mention, under the mattress was such an obvious spot that it was almost genius. I knew, just as well as anyone else, that a teenage boy could hide several embarrassing items under the bed. Thankfully, I knew Yukio well enough to know he respected my privacy. I pushed the knife between the mattress and frame, nestling it into its usual spot.

"Rin, are you coming?" I froze, Kuro's voice coming from the doorway. My blood ran cold, and I turned to look at him, wondering if he saw the knife. "What are you doing?" He questioned, his head cocking to the side.

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, "uh, tucking my sheets in."

He blinked, confusion written on his face. He didn't push the subject, though. "Alright, are you almost done?" I nodded and pulled my hand from under the mattress, a bit of anxiety swirling inside of me at the thought of being caught. My familiar turned on his heels, trotting away from me as his tails wiggled around behind him. A gust of air left my lungs. Hopefully, Kuro didn't get any ideas.

.oOo.

"Hey, Nii-san?" I hummed in response, turning away from my knelt position in front of the oven. The cookies wouldn't be done for another ten minutes. But that didn't stop me from pressing my nose to the glass while I salivated. I was halfway through turning when I was suddenly thrown off balance. My ass hit the floor and a hand went up to my cheek.

My twin cackled endlessly, and I shot him a glare. I pulled my fingers from my cheek and noticed the flour that covered them. "Oh, we're doing this now?" I gave my brother a wild look, he should know better than to start a fight like this. He ignored the threat in my eyes, more preoccupied with his own laughter.

He gripped his stomach, his own flour covered hand leaving marks on his shirt. "Oh my god, the look on your face." He did his best to imitate said look, but failed miserably. I got to my feet and stomped up to him. I eyed the film of white powder on the counter, thankful we hadn't cleaned up yet. I ran my hand across it as I closed the gap between us, scooping up whatever I could. He caught wind of my actions, pointing a finger at me. "Don't even think about it."

I smirked, "you started it." He was just within reach and my hand shot upwards, lightly smacking him in the face. A puff of flour clouded the air momentarily, and I heard Kuro snicker into our discarded mixing bowl.

Chaos.

He snatched the nearby bag of flour, dumping half the contents onto the counter and grabbing a fistful. I'd barely grabbed my own share of ammunition before I was pelted in the face with the ingredient. I coughed as it entered my mouth and went up my nose, leaving behind a chalky taste. I growled and threw my own handful, but he dodged me and the flour landed on Kuro. "Aww, guys, leave me out of this!"

My brother cackled at his mewls and I grabbed another fistful, launching it at my attacker like a cannon. I felt a tinge if satisfaction as it stuck to the side of his face and blanketed part of his hair. A hand came into view and I ducked before he could grab onto my shirt. I ran to the other side of the kitchen, mocking him. But my laughter was short-lived. I watched as he pulled his glasses off, his fingers rubbing his eyes.

"I'm sorry!" I didn't think I'd gotten any in his eyes, but it's not like I had control over where the flour spread. I sighed and walked back over, feeling guilty. "Don't rub it, your fingers are covered in it, too." I pulled his hand from his face. His eyelashes were tinged white, but that may be due to his fingers being covered in flour. Most likely, his discomfort was caused by the dust cloud we'd created. I cooed and apologized once more.

"Dammit, you almost make me feel bad," my brother stated and I gave him a puzzled look. His mouth twitched at the corners, and I realized, too late, that I'd been fooled. Something impacted against my head, and a shower of flour fell as the bag exploded.

"Well played," I said sourly. "I should've known by now than to believe that little trick. You've used it for years." I blew the powder from my lips and squinted at him. I could feel the mountain of flour atop my skull and I shook my head, watching as it fell down to the floor - creating a plume of dust before settling. The floor was a mess and my eyes darted back up to my brothers. Victory was written across his features and I had the urge to wipe the smug look off his face. "Go grab the broom," I snarked, "I'll watch the cookies, you clean up the mess."

He gave me a smirk. Obviously, he didn't mind dusting if it meant he got to rub this in my face, literally. "No worries, I can handle both. You go up and shower. You're a little... crusty." Kuro cackled at his comment and I growled.

Little shits.