I slammed the door to the bedroom, my fingers finding their way to my hair and I ripped at the roots. My lungs burned as I gasped for air, and my vision blurred with tears. I began to pace the room, counting each of my steps in order to calm my frantic mind. But it was no use, the pressure inside me continued to grow and my stomach churned. My own brother had shot me, and he could've easily killed me. My mind flickered to Yukio's aim; he was well-trained, and the bullet's destination was right for my vitals. There was no doubt in my mind that the placement had been intentional. I pounded my fists against my skull, forcing the thought out of my head. I bit back a scream, turning to the side and taking my emotions out on Yukio's nightstand. I kicked at the wood, the bedside lamp along with a small leather bag falling off - its contents spilling onto the floor.

I sighed and plopped down to my knees, grasping the items and shoving them back into the bag. As I did, sobs tore past my throat, wracking my body. The bag had to be some of Yukio's gear. Holy water, extra clips of varied bullets, and medical herbs I'd learned about in his class. I shoved them all into the bag, placing it and the fallen lamp back onto the nightstand. I was about to stand, but something caught my eye. It was metallic, glinting in the dim light of the room. I hiccuped and reached down, pulling it from its place under Yukio's bed. I held it in my hands, assessing it. It was a foldable combat knife. A cross was etched into the dark stained wood of the handle. I wiped my watery eyes and flipped the blade open, noting its razor edge and the serrations at the hilt of the blade. I closed the knife and was about to toss it into the bag with the rest of its contents, but I stopped short when I spotted the blood that stained the handle. Puzzled, I passed it between my hands, staring at the still-bleeding wound in my palm. It didn't appear to be healing at all. I recalled the scar on my wrist, and how the wound had healed in an instant. I stole another glance at my bloody palm, realizing the common denominator. The bullet was blessed, so my healing was hindered.

I swallowed hard and leaned back on my heels. I raised my arm and wiped my tears onto my sleeve. My whole body ached, but the aching was outweighed by my emotions. My mind flickered back to how the scar on my wrist was formed, and how the pain of the knife had broken me from my sour thoughts. However, with a normal blade, the cut had healed, and subsequently, the pain didn't last long. Glancing down at the knife in my hand, I had a revelation.

"Rin?" My eyes snapped up at the sound of Kuro's voice. "Are you okay? You came storming into the building and it sounded like you were crying." The voice drew nearer, and I panicked. I shoved the knife into the pocket of my jacket just as Kuro rounded the corner. His eyes grew wide when he saw me and he sprinted forward. Coming to a stop in front of me, he stood on his back legs, his front paws leaning on my chest as he got close to my face. His own expression was swirling with intensity. "What happened, why are you crying?!" I shook my head, raising my hands to wipe my eyes again. A high-pitched gasp filled the room, "What happened to your hand?!"

I sighed, realizing he'd find out sooner or later. "Yukio shot me."

He flinched, and a strained sound escaped his lips as his eyes grew wide. "W-Why??"

"He thought I was gonna hurt someone," I said quietly. "Listen, I don't want to talk about it right now, I just want to be alone. Okay?" My familiar blinked several times before nodding, his shocked expression unwavering. "I'm going up to the roof to think and maybe practice my flames for a bit." With that, I pulled away from him, and I heard his front paws thud against the floor. I didn't bother to look at him before leaving the room, I was positive he would be shocked still for the next several minutes. I tried to shove away my thoughts as I made my way up the flights of stairs. Soon enough, I was pushing open the door to the roof. I slipped my hand into my pocket, my fingers running across the polished wood. I made sure to lock the door behind me, grateful for the extra security. The last thing I wanted was for Kuro to find me up here, not with what I planned on doing.

I sat down and leaned against the door, pulling the knife from my pocket and passing it between my hands. Was this really a smart idea? I knew this was wrong, that I could cause myself serious damage. If I wasn't careful, I might even end up killing myself.

With a humorless laugh, I realized I didn't care either way.

I sighed and rolled up my right sleeve, it was covered in blood anyway. I gritted my teeth and held the blade to my wrist. The action alone was sending my body into a panic. My heartbeat rose, and I felt my breathing begin to labor. I pressed down slightly and gasped as a hairline fissure was created on my skin. This thing was fucking sharp. I shivered as the metal left my flesh with a burning sensation. This wasn't enough, however, as my thoughts were still swimming inside my mind. I wanted to forget, even if only briefly, about today's events. I pushed the blade down with a bit more determination and felt a tinge of satisfaction as a bead of blood welled up around the knife's edge and began a steady drip down the other side of my wrist. I slowly slid the blade against my skin, gasping as white-hot agony flashed through my body. I waited for the pain to subside before lifting the knife and placing it on the unmarred flesh below the cut. I drew another line and relished in the pain, realizing the endorphins in my body made me a bit weightless. I took a deep breath, repeating the process once more before setting the weapon down beside me.

I propped my arm up on my knee and watched as my blood dripped down, beading together and plopping down to the concrete below. The pace was slow but methodical, and I found myself entranced at the sight. Eventually, I let my eyes close and my head fell back against the door. The pain lingered, and I focused everything I had on it. After several minutes, I opened my eyes and gazed at my still-bleeding wrist. I came to the realization that these actions brought me close to the meditative state I had when practicing my flames. Who would have thought something so destructive could be so... peaceful? I hummed and grasped my sleeve, pulling it down to cover my injuries. I grabbed the knife beside me and slipped it back into my pocket, deciding I'd hold onto it for now. I'm sure Yukio had so much gear he wouldn't even know it was missing.

I unlocked the door and made my way back down to the bedroom. My thoughts were oddly quiet, and I wondered if I was in shock or if this was a typical reaction to my newfound vice. I peered inside our bedroom, my lips forming a thin line when I couldn't spot Kuro. Maybe he went for a walk. I realized that was a much healthier option than what I had just done, but I'll be damned if I was going to say it didn't work. I sighed and made my way into the bathroom. Once the door was latched, I pulled out the first aid kit from under the sink. I stripped off my academy jacket and dress shirt, tossing them to the side and holding my tie in my hands. I rolled it up and shoved it between my teeth before uncapping the bottle of isopropyl alcohol. I hesitated momentarily before pouring the liquid over my wounds. My strangled grunt was muffled, but still loud enough to cause concern if heard from the bedroom. I took a deep breath a let the tie fall from my teeth. Reaching over, I grabbed a fistful of Kleenex and dabbed at the leftover alcohol and blood. I spread antibiotic ointment over my wrist and palm and then tried my best to wrap gauze over the wounds. Although it was a bit haphazard, it would have to suffice.

I had to congratulate my quick thinking. While I had to fumble using my non-dominant hand. Had I harmed my left wrist, I would have had to bandage both arms. If people questioned the dressing, I could pass it off on the bullet wound. Although, I would have to come up with an excuse to give my daytime classmates.

I cleaned up the medical supplies and grabbed my dirty laundry from the floor. I carried them into the bedroom, digging the knife out of my jacket before tossing the garments next to my bed. I'd be able to salvage the jacket. Since it was black, it didn't show the stains, but the button-up was done for. I knelt down and slipped my hand and the knife between my mattress and bedframe. It wasn't the best hiding spot, but as long as no one got suspicious, they had no reason to look there.

Drawing in a deep breath, I turned to the closet. I stripped off my pants and tossed on a hoodie and pajama bottoms. Once I was modest, I sat down on my bed, a yawn appearing out of nowhere. I guess I shouldn't be surprised at my exhaustion. It's been an eventful day, and crying was both physically and emotionally draining. I rubbed my tired eyes and I heard Kuro enter the room. I glanced over at him, and his eyes seemed to linger on my bloody clothes on the floor. He looked up at me after several moments and I saw his own weariness on his face. I patted the mattress, "Naptime?" I questioned, a small smile pulling at my lips. His expression mirrored mine and he trotted forward, hopping up onto the bed. I flopped backward, my head plopping onto the pillow. Turning onto my side, I let Kuro get comfortable. He got in his usual position - curled up against my stomach - and I hummed, pulling the blankets over us. He let out a long sigh, and I connected with that breath on a spiritual level. I echoed his action and closed my eyes, hoping that my dreams would be nothing but blackness, but I knew evading my nightmares was impossible.

.oOo.

"Nii-san... It's time to get up." I groaned and flipped the blankets off of myself. I'd only recently fallen back to sleep, and I knew I would be irritated the whole day. Stretching, I pulled the covers fully off of me, surprised when Kuro wasn't underneath. I glanced around and spotted him sitting on the desk, his tails flickering behind him, and his eyes were piercing into Yukio. I suppose he had every right to be wary of him. I simply got out of bed and wandered toward the bathroom. "Good morning, Nii-san." Yukio's voice didn't hold the usual cheer it did in the mornings. I paused momentarily, my upper lip twitching at the sound of the title.

"Good morning, Okumura-sensei." The air was silent as I continued my way into the bathroom.

"...Rin?"

I sighed, turning to the side and meeting his concerned eyes. "Yes, Yukio?"

He blinked several times, his concern slowly melting away into melancholy. "Uh... Nothing." He bit his lip and turned away from me, leaving the doorway. I watched Kuro momentarily as he shot daggers at the teen.

I turned my attention to my right hand, curious how the dressing faired throughout the night. My brows furrowed immediately, and I threw a sideways glace at Kuro to make sure he wasn't looking before peaking under my sleeve. My bandage had been changed, and my wrist was uncovered. Dread struck my heart.

This was Yukio's doing, he had to of changed it. He knows... But why didn't he say anything?