The weekend came and went, and the school week passed as if nothing had happened. I half expected my classmates to treat me differently, like a abandoned dog on the freeway. Yet, it was like I dreamed the whole scenario. No one brought it up, no one gave me any side glances, and when they spoke to me, it was with the same tone they used with each other. The only things that reminded me that the events had actually transpired, was when I would go back to the dorm. Yukio had made due on his promise to take care of our meals. However, he wasn't the greatest in the kitchen, and most of our dinners came in take-out containers. He'd been apologetic, but I'd waved him off. Food was food, it didn't matter how he got it. He also made sure that I followed any other rules. Even after a week, I was still uncomfortable without my sleeves. I was thankful that my t-shirts covered the upper half of my arms, but most of the damage had been caused to my forearms. Every once in awhile, I'd catch Yukio's eyes lingering on them. Due to this, I've begun a habit of covering my arms with my hands, my fingers picking at my skin from my anxiety.

I sighed, pushing open the door to Tsubaki-sensei's class. Yet another uneventful school day had passed, and while I was grateful for that, it meant that my itch to self harm would start to ramp up again. One full week without it, something I'd never considered before. But goddamn if it wasn't more difficult than expected. I wanted the blood, the high, and the pain. Yet, that was taken from me, and I was expected to adhere with societal norms. I shook my head of my thoughts and entered the locker room. Suguro-san was here already, but I didn't pay him any mind. Instead, I opened my locker and retrieved my gym clothes, walking toward the bathroom and locking myself in a stall. After I had changed, I returned to my locker, putting my school uniform inside. When I turned away, I caught sight of Bon's expression. "What's wrong?"

He sighed and closed his locker, as well. "I just can't believe I never noticed how odd your behavior was. You've been changing in the bathroom for months." I shrugged, it could've been waved off as a self-esteem issue, I wouldn't say that my behavior was odd. "And you wear those long sleeves, even though it's hotter than hell in that room." Okay, yeah, that one would've been a bit harder to explain. "The fact that the shirt is black is fucked up too, we'd never know if you were bleeding underneath it. It's just so obvious now that something was up."

"It's not your fault. I got really good at hiding it."

He was quiet for a few moments, "are you sorry that you did it?"

My brows furrowed, "I'll need you to clarify that."

"Are you sorry that you lied to us?" I nodded my head. Of course, it was never my intention to hurt anyone. Unfortunately, that seems to be all I'm doing lately. My classmate hummed, "are you sorry that you hurt yourself?" Silence hung in the air between us, and I wasn't sure how I should respond. I was saved from doing so when the door opened, Koneko and Shima were chatting with each other as they walked in. It only took a few moments, but they realized that they had interrupted, and from the solemn look on Bon's face, I guess they knew it was a serious conversation. I dropped my gaze to the floor, deciding to ignore his question. I made my way out of the locker room, my skin prickling as their eyes followed me out. 

.oOo.

It was the last class of the day, and Yukio was just reviewing our last few lessons. He told us to study for an upcoming quiz and my peers began to talk quietly about what they had planned for the night. It was a Friday evening, and most people would be going into town or heading home for the weekend. Not me, I'd be sitting in the dorm, looking for something to do while I impatiently waited for school to start on Monday. After a few minutes, a phone rang and my eyes shifted toward the front of the room. Yukio pulled out his phone, his mouth forming a thin line as he read the message. Eventually, he sighed and leaned on the podium. "I've been called on an emergency mission, so I'll end class early today. I'm sure you are all capable of reviewing the material on your own, anyway." He pocketed his phone and straightened his papers before packing them inside of his bag. I turned my gaze downwards, back to the pharmaceutical book before me. "Suguro-san, may I have a word with you?" Curiosity gnawed at me, wondering what my brother's conversation might entail, but I forced myself to focus, deciding that I'd find out later.

The classroom returned to and idle chatter, most of my peers doing the same as me and using the last few minutes of class to catch up. I stared at my homework, unable to find the required answer. I chewed on my lip, feeling a bit impatient. Normally, around this time I'd be going up to the roof of the dorm, knife in hand. I was bittersweet about my current dilemma, and I found myself craving the bite of a blade. I tapped my pencil on the table to a nonexistent beat, letting my nervous energy out by fidgeting.

"Rin, can you cut it out? You're driving me insane over here." Izumo snapped from the desk beside me. I sighed, dropping my pencil and leaning back in my chair. I ran my hands through my hair, feeling a bit of my own irritation showing on my face. "What's wrong?" I felt her presence beside me and I looked up at her small form. I turned my gaze back to my homework, feeling a blush crawl onto my face as I recalled Kuro's words. No matter the feelings I may have toward her, I couldn't let them show. My kind wasn't compatible with her. And I had a death sentence, it would be selfish to voice my feelings.

"Uh, I just don't know the answer to number nine. I looked everywhere in the textbook, and I know we covered it, but I'm at a loss."

She huffed and leaned down, my eyes widening as I faintly smelled her body wash. The sweet but earthy scent, with a hint of vanilla. I wondered if the vanilla part was what she showered with, or if that was just part of who she was. "I'm assuming by everywhere in the textbook, you meant the last half?" Her voice broke me from my musing and I felt my blush worsen. "This particular question goes back to section two. I think its around page fifty, or somewhere around that."

She straightened and returned to her seat. I hide my face as I spoke, "thank you."

She sighed, "now stop tapping your pencil."

A small smile pulled at my lips and I returned my gaze to my homework. I flipped through my textbook, not surprised when I found the answer on page forty-seven. I wasn't paying attention when the door opened, but I heard Suguro-san walk back to his seat. I glanced up at the wall clock, realizing that we were mere seconds from the bell ringing. "Oi, Okumura-san." Bon said from behind me. I closed my book and shoved it into my bag, glancing up at him.

"Stop calling me that, just call me Rin."

He ignored my quip, "you're coming with me." I quirked an eyebrow, grabbing my bag and throwing it onto my shoulder.

"What now?" I pushed the desk chair in and Bon shrugged.

"You're under supervision, remember? Since your brother will be gone most of the night, you get to stay by my side."

Great. Not only was I being watched like a hawk by my twin, but now he was going as far as to get me a babysitter? The bell rang and we all started to filter out of the room. The two of us exited the cram school and I turned to him as we entered the courtyard. "So, uh, where are we going?"

"Your dorm, technically you are being housed away from everyone else for a reason. So let's stay at your place. My dorm hasn't been Rin-proofed, anyway."

I gawked, he made me seem like an unruly toddler. It's not like I was going to break anything. However, as I thought about it, I realized that the dorm had been searched for my safety, so how am I any different from a child?

I waited outside of Bon's dorm as he went up and got a change of clothes and any necessary toiletries. Scratching the back of my neck, I thought about my previous routine, and how I so dearly wanted it back. When he returned, Suguro gave me a concerned glance. "You good?" I dropped my hand and shrugged. The air was tense between us as we walked back to my dorm. I'm sure he felt just as awkward as I did. From an outside perspective, I would assume we just looked like two classmates, getting ready to spend the weekend together. And while that much was true, the intentions behind it were morbid.

I ran on auto-pilot as we entered the dorm, walking our way up to our bedroom. My eyes wandered over to my bed. My knife wouldn't be under it. I sighed and sat down on the mattress. "You sure you're okay?" I simply nodded and sighed. "I'm gonna shower quick. I'll be out in a few minutes."

I barely noticed his departure, my mind preoccupied with my own thoughts. I knew stopping my self harm wouldn't be easy, but I didn't expect to crave it this badly. The cliché I could stop if I really wanted to rang in my mind. The thing was, I didn't want to stop. Why should I? I groaned and got up momentarily to change out of my uniform. I plopped back down on my bed afterward, staring at my bare arms. I rubbed my scars, feeling the bumps and divots as they trailed up to my elbow. They were memories, and every one of them had a reason to be there. I gritted my teeth, my nails digging into my skin. I needed to do something, anything to get rid of this itch. My nails dug further into my flesh and I groaned in frustration. Even this wasn't enough. There wasn't enough blood, I wanted to see it flow from my wrists. Aggravated, I bit down harshly on my lip, tasting the iron the spread across my tongue as my fang punctured the thin skin.

Bite yourself.

I blinked in surprise. It wasn't a horrible idea. The wounds wouldn't last like they did when I cut myself, but my teeth could go deep enough to satisfy this urge. It was a crazy, however, and I knew that by doing it, I'd only dig myself a deeper grave.

Why even question it?

I brought my arm to my mouth, letting my fangs sink into my right wrist. Pain flared in the joint, but it was exactly what I needed. I pulled my arm away and watched as the small marks wept. This was the perfect solution. I returned my wrist in between my jaw, chomping down at my flesh. I bit down harder, feeling a wave of euphoria when endorphins flooded my system.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Abruptly, my hair was yanked back, my arm ripping from my teeth. I groaned, both in pain and satisfaction, tasting the pool of blood in my mouth. My eyes flickered up to meet Bon's horrified expression, and a smirk pulled at my lips.

"Oops."

His eyes widened, "Oops?! You've been fucking desecrating your wrist and that's all you have to say?" He dropped his hold on my hair, letting my head fall forward. I eyed my wounds, watching the small marks ooze. It wasn't enough and I craved more bloodshed. I flinched, however, when he flicked me on the forehead. "Aht! Don't you dare..." I grunted, grabbing my short sleeve and wiping my mouth on it. I heard him take a few steps away, and I considered adding another bite or two, but squashed the thought. He was already pissed, I should just take what I can get. After a few moments, he returned, a washcloth in one hand and a first-aid kit in the other. "Are you done mutilating yourself?" He growled, reaching out and grabbing my maimed wrist. He assessed the damage and sighed, opening the kit and searching its contents. "Fucking ridiculous."

A bit of remorse tingled inside of me, realizing just how manic I'd become. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have seen that."

He laughed humorlessly, pulling out some gauze and giving me a level look. "Sorry usually means a mistake has been made, or so a friend has told me. You meant to hurt yourself, that was no mistake. You aren't sorry, you just feel guilty."

Ah, son of a bitch. It sucks to have your own words thrown back into your face.