Today was truly testing my patience, and it was barely lunchtime. Maybe it was because I was tired. Lately, that's all I felt was fatigue. I could put up a facade with the others, maybe mention that I didn't sleep well. However, I wasn't a complete idiot. By replacing cutting with vomiting, I've given myself even worse side effects. It could be a myriad of things; dehydration, electrolyte imbalance, malnutrition. I couldn't be certain of the exact cause of my exhaustion, but I knew it was rooted in my habit.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when the teacher scolded the room again. I tuned back into my surroundings, realizing that nothing had changed. It was getting closer to the end of the year and it'd become typical for my classmates to chatter and dawdle when they were supposed to be paying attention. My eyes flickered over the desks, seeing several faces positioned away from the blackboard. I moved my eyes to the front where our teacher stood. After a few brief moments, she realized she'd been ignored and relented to continuing the lesson for those of us who actually cared.

Scanning the blackboard, I noticed I'd spaced out for a good portion of the class and missed several minutes of note-taking. Grabbing my pencil, I poised it above my notebook and began furiously scribbling down as much information as I could in order to catch up. Unfortunately, when I turned the page, I saw I'd reached the end of the notebook. I inwardly groaned. We were so close to ending the school year and I had to open a fresh one. With a sigh, I turned to grab my bag and set it on my lap. After rifling through its contents, I thankfully found a spare notebook. I pulled it out, but the spiral caught on the fabric for a moment before breaking free. My elbow knocked into the textbook atop my desk, subsequently throwing it to the floor.

There was a loud yelp beside me and I rushed to grab my fallen book, whispering my apology. I'd barely spoken a word when the teacher's voice boomed above the rest of the noise. "That's enough! Everyone pull out some paper. For the remainder of class, I want complete silence as you write me an essay on the importance of a quiet classroom!" The idle chitchat in the room dissolved as my peers realized how screwed we were. A muffled groan sounded beside me and my eyes flickered over to my desk mate. He had been the one to yelp when my textbook fell, and when our eyes met, his narrowed.

He pointed down to his shoe, keeping his voice low as he spoke. "You scuffed the leather, don't you have any idea how much these loafers cost?" I was about the mouth out an apology, but someone behind the boy snickered.

"Dude, he'd probably pass out if he knew." His tone was condescending and another kid, along with my desk mate all laughed.

"Who's laughing?!" The teacher barked from her desk. The entire classroom visibly flinched and I ducked my head down closer to my notebook. I began writing out the beginning paragraph of my paper before I felt a nudge on my shin. I looked down and spotted the scuffed shoe of my neighbor before trailing my gaze back up to its host.

He scowled at me, "this is all your fault, dumbass." He whispered. "If you hadn't thrown that book at me, we wouldn't have to do this." I had half a mind to tell him to fuck off. First of all, I didn't throw shit, it'd been an accident. Secondly, he was just a part of the problem as the rest of the class. I'd noticed earlier that he'd been chatting with his friends, his feet kicked out into the aisle so he could turn and socialize with his friends. Had he been sitting properly and paying attention, my textbook wouldn't have hit him.

However, I knew better than to start an argument when we were already on the teacher's shit list. I simply rolled my eyes in response, but had to bite my tongue when I felt pain rattle up my shin from his kick. This fucker was riding on my last nerve. I gave him a glare, which he returned. "Dumbass," he muttered, "go see if sucking off the Headmaster can get you more than a scholarship." I blinked in shock, was he talking about Mephisto?

"Dude, chill," one of his friends chuckled, "he might carve your name into his wrist if you don't." The fuckface next to me muffled a snort before holding his fist out behind him. The two bumped knuckles as I vehemently tried to keep myself seated. The plastic of my mechanical pencil cracked slightly in my grip and I set my eyes downward to my notebook. I could feel my anger rising, the slightest aura flickering above my fingertips. I took all of my energy to keep me from rocking this kid's jaw. Placing my free hand on my thigh, I dug my fingertips down hard enough to sting. The slight pain kept me seated, and I spent the remainder of class hovering over my papers without a single word written for my essay.

When the bell rang, I shoved myself up from the desk. In a flash, I forced my supplies into my bag before racing out of the room. The hallways began erupting with bodies and I found myself elbowing my way around the corridors. Vaguely, I could hear my peers idly talking about the lunch menu, but there was a buzzing inside my ears so loud that I couldn't focus. After a minute or so of maneuvering, I quickly entered and exited the main entrance of the academy.

The brick below me seemed to pulsate as I traversed, my blood pressure so high I could feel it in my palms. We had an hour for lunch, but I would only need ten minutes to calm myself down. I didn't even realize I'd broken out into a jog until I was in front of the dormitory, panting and grasping at my chest. Throwing open the door, I made a beeline for the kitchen. The heavy metal doors slammed behind me and I was thankful Yukio wasn't here to question my behavior.

In a rush, I walked up to the countertops. My eyes zeroed in on the knife block that sat next to the oven. I moved without a second thought, my fingers grazing against the handle of a paring knife before grasping the hilt and drawing the blade from its wooden sheath. It came as second nature, the way my academy jacket slipped off my shoulder. My left forearm rested against the granite, my skin feeling clammy against its surface. I poised the knife, feeling the adrenaline sweep through my body from anticipation. The only sounds I could hear were my labored breaths and pounding heartbeat.

I moved to strike my wrist but hesitated. A brief moment of clarity had me frozen in a stupor. If I hurt myself right now, would it be worth it? Yukio would inevitably find out. And then what? I hated his disappointment. And he'd undoubtedly put me further under surveillance. All because of some dumbass punk in my day classes? Could I really waste my one opportunity on something so trivial?

I could, I just had to make it worth my while. I had an hour to myself. And lately, Yukio has stated he's been spending lunchtime in the library. Unless I was the unluckiest bastard in the world, I'd be alone to maim myself in peace. The thought was reassuring and my resolve strengthened. Unfortunately this knife was a simple kitchen utensil and lacked an exorcists blessing. So, any wound I created would heal almost instantaneously. I had half a mind to snoop around the dorm to find my old knife, but I could always start now and look for it later. It's not like Yukio would find out immediately. I could have hours or days before he knew. That left me ample time to retrieve my weapon of choice. Just the thought of using it had me shivering.

I readjusted my grip on the paring knife, settling my gaze on the skin just below my elbow. The blade moved down an inch, aimed perfectly at my target...

I drew in a deep breath and held it, my eyes widening as I stared down at unharmed arm. My hand shook for a moment before I jerked the knife to the side, away from my bare flesh. There was clatter as the knife ricocheted off a nearby wall and bounced off the floor. My empty fist slammed against the granite countertop and I cussed.

I can't do it.

Despite my desperation, I couldn't live with the fallout if Yukio discovered my relapse. It was cowardly. I had the perfect opportunity to get my fix, but I was letting my emotions get the better of me. I grunted and shoved myself away from the counter and over to the sink. My fingers jammed into the back of my throat, a strangled gag echoing off the inside of the sink as I hunched over. It only took a few short seconds before my abdomen jerked violently and bile shot up my throat. It burned my esophagus and tears sprouted to my eyes. I spat into the sink and placed my fingers back into my mouth. Once again, my body lurched and I gasped for air as my empty stomach seemingly produced another round of bile. I repeated the process two more times, my body growing hot in the process. I coughed around the digits in my mouth, my fangs scraping against the skin of my knuckles as another convulsion took over my body.

Sputtering for breath, I gripped the edge of the sink to stop myself from swaying. My heart thundered in my chest and I felt lightheaded from the exertion and lack of oxygen. I wiped my nose against the back of my hand before turning on the faucet and washing away my sin. The smell of the soap wafted in the air and aided in my notion that I felt somehow cleaner by this demented habit. I sniffled once more as I dried my hands, gradually coming down from my small high. My eyes flickered over to the discarded knife and I moved to pick it off of the floor. It would be stupid to leave it here, especially with how observant Yukio has become with these kinds of things. With a sigh, I quickly washed the item and put it back where I found it before walking out of the kitchen and to the cafeteria doors.

When I opened said doors, I was startled by a voice. "Rin!" Kuro all but yelled. He quickly moved from his sitting position by the door and up to my feet. He stood on his back paws and placed his front on my shin. His expression was one of concern and I immediately felt like an idiot for forgetting his presence in the dorm. His ears twitched as he assessed me. "Did you throw up? I thought I heard something from upstairs so I came down to see. But the door was closed and I could hear you gagging." Earnest eyes stared deeply into mine and I felt a small pang of remorse. "Are you okay?"

I nodded and sunk down on one knee, grabbing my familiar and pulling him into a hug. He immediately relaxed at my answer and sighed. However, I knew I had to lie further. I needed to keep him far in the dark, especially considering how he was quick to betray me when Yukio had been searching for my knife.

"I'm okay," I mumbled, my voice a bit hoarse from the stomach acid. "I didn't pack a lunch so I came home to eat. But the yogurt I grabbed was super expired and the second I opened it I was hit with the worst rancid milk smell." My nose scrunched up and I saw my furry friend mirror my expression. "You would've hurled, too. It was like chemical warfare in there." A small, high-pitched laugh escaped him and I held back a sigh of relief. Instead, I smiled, playing into the light nature of his reaction. "I should've known better. I got those yogurts before Yukio stripped me of my cooking task. I should've known he wouldn't check the dates."

His whiskers moved as his lips curled upwards, his small teeth becoming exposed. "Should I be concerned about any meals going forward?" It was my turn to laugh and I reassured him that I'd go through the fridge later tonight to make sure. He visibly deflated and nuzzled into my chest.

We sat there for a few more minutes, idly chatting about our day thus far. I redacted the events that had truly caused my purging, choosing instead to fill the silence with a few conversations about homework and school gossip. When we both were filled in on the other's uneventful weekday, it quickly turned into the same routine as the morning. Kuro bumped his forehead against my chin, wishing me a productive day at school. I smiled and told him I couldn't promise anything about learning or productivity before we separated ways.

When I exited the dorm, the door latching quietly behind me, I slumped back, feeling the cold metal through my uniform. I was even more exhausted than before. Today was going to be rough.