I sighed deeply, allowing the hot shower to thrum against my tense muscles. It'd been a typical day, yet I was exhausted nonetheless. My tired mind didn't help my mood, which seemed to be in an ever persistent state of flatness lately. Turning around, I let the water wash over my head as I placed my palms against the shower wall. I watched as the droplets fell from my eyebrows down to the swirling drain below. After a few moments, my gaze flickered to my exposed forearms. The tops of my arms were misleading with how smooth and unharmed they appeared. Dropping my hands, I turned my palms toward me, my eyes trailing over the unhealed wounds.

Should I... should I talk to someone about this? The obvious answer was a resounding "yes." However, I knew I wouldn't speak a word to any soul about this issue. I'd made my own grave with my choices, I needed to live with them. A huff escaped my lips and I closed my eyes briefly. Living with this mistake would have consequences for the average person. Not me, though. I had a target on my back the way it was. I had a timer, so if I decided to self destruct in the meantime, did it truly matter? What were the consequences in this situation? Permanent scars and the possibility of suicide if I fucked up? I wouldn't have to deal with either in just a few short months, so the consequences were null. If anything, self harm was currently a positive.

The thought of my deadline started a slow crawling into the pit of my stomach. Despite my habits; I didn't really want to die. I know it seems backwards considering the state of my arms. Yet, it was only a means to ground myself with my whirling emotions lately. If I didn't have this damned deadline hovering above my every move, I'd feel the freedom I longingly ached for. This deadline that I knew, deep down, that I'd never actually surpass. My mine flickered to memories of my most recent training sessions with Shura. The reminiscent feeling of being knocked to my ass over and over clouded my brain. I know Shura kept saying to simply get up and keep trying, that eventually my work would pay off. However, every day that passed was another day closer to death and no closer to releasing me from my bonds.

"Rin?" Kuro's high-pitched voice echoed from behind the bathroom door, pulling me from my musings. I blinked, staring at my hands, which were balled into fists and trembling. Taking a deep breath, I let my arms fall to my side and answered my familiar. "You've been in there awhile, are you okay?"

"Yeah," I said neutrally. "I'll be out in a few minutes." Several moments passed and I didn't hear a reply, so I figured he'd moved on. Sighing, I reached to turn off the water, the methodical thrum of the droplets hitting the fiberglass ceased. The only sound was the last of the water cascading off my body, but the silence in the room seemed so much louder. Opening the shower, I grabbed my nearby towel and dried my hair before wrapping it around my hips. I took a few steps toward the sink, placing my palms on the counter and leveling with my reflection.

Pathetic.

I sneered at the raven-haired teen, feeling a hatred so deeply rooted against him that I'd never felt for anything else in my life. How many times have I stared at myself like this with such contempt? It was before the academy, before dad's death even. I'd always held some sort of unrest about the person that I was. However, at this point, I couldn't even call the thing in the mirror a person at all.

It.

My fingers dragged against the countertop, my nails failing to dig in to the hard surface. I held myself back from shattering the mirror, and the boy who stood inside. It'd only cause me more issues.

Blue eyes stared back at me with repulsion, his bare torso tightly wound with his tense muscles. I drew in a deep breath and closed my eyes before turning away from the mirror. I'd only succeed in pissing myself off I continued to stare at my reflection. Doing my best to bury my self-loathing, I dried off and got dressed without giving the teen a second glance.

"You were in there for awhile, are you sure you're okay?" Kuro spoke once I'd opened the bathroom door. My eyes flickered to where he sat on my desk and I shrugged.

"I've been a little stressed lately, needed a little self care I guess."

A small chuckle escaped the cat sidhe as I passed him by. I flopped down onto my mattress, pulling at my sleeves before throwing an arm over my eyes. My head felt cloudy, and my eyes tired. Maybe I should nap for a short while, that may clear my head. A light thudding sound entered my ears before a small weight pressed against my abdomen. Peering under my sleeve, I saw Kuro nestle himself into the concave of my stomach, kneading my body briefly before finding an appropriate spot.

"Rin?" My familiar pressed quietly, I met his gaze and he continued. "I know it's still cold out, but why do you always wear long sleeves indoors?" My neck stiffened, and it took some effort to not let the rest of my body become rigid as to not raise any suspicions. Kuro thankfully didn't seem to notice. "Even to bed, you wear hoodies or long sleeves. Which wouldn't normally be anything to ask about considering the time of year, but you sweat at night. Yet, you refuse to wear a normal shirt or go bare like you used to..."

After he finished speaking, he simply gazed at me while waiting for an answer. I searched his expression, wondering if his words had any hidden meaning, maybe an inclination as to exactly why my behavior had changed. Maybe I was inept, but his features were soft, unguarded, as if he was truly just curious as to my sudden change in clothing. I drew in a deep breath and tried to conjure an excuse. "I was shot, remember?" Kuro's eyes darkened and he nodded his head. My grip on my sleeves tightened and the skin underneath itched with the thought of exposure. "Since the bullet was blessed, I didn't heal right away. So I got used to seeing the bandage covering the wound. But now..." I raised my right hand and unfurled my grasp on the cotton sleeve, the fabric inching down slightly to expose my palm. "It's healed and fully exposed. I don't like seeing it. I guess the sleeves are just a way to mask it." It wasn't fully the truth, but it was heavily based on honesty. That scar hurt the most to look at.

Kuro reached a paw out and pushed my hand down to my stomach, his eyes trailing over the scar. Just like the lines that were etched into my skin, it was a garish purple color, but unlike the perfect slits on my forearms, the scar was angry, jagged, and healed in a way that forced me to grip things differently. His eyes traced the scarring, from where the bullet first scraped my palm under my pinky finger, tore its way across my palm, and drove slightly deeper before coming to a stop at my thumb. Even now, if I pressed hard enough on that section, I would feel a stinging pain radiate from the area.

The black feline pawed gently at the marred skin, careful not to let his nails scratch me. Then, he drew a deep sigh. His green eyes flickered back up to mine and I saw the unrest inside of him. "Do you... do you think Yukio was actually trying to... to, you know?"

"Kill me?" I spoke and he flinched, his ears twitching backward at the words. Nonetheless, he nodded. I readjusted my grasp on my sleeve, covering my wounded hand. Bringing my sleeved arm to my face, I chewed on my cuticles for a moment. "I don't know," I stated quietly. "After the gunshot, he was immediately by my side. He apologized so many times. It seems like he didn't really mean to fire at me. But," I closed my eyes, recalling the trajectory of the bullet. "He aimed right for my chest. Not my leg, not my shoulder, or anywhere non-lethal. It would've been a lung or heart shot..." The pressure on my stomach shifted as my familiar grew anguished with my words, his paws and tails fidgeting as I continued to speak. "So even if it were an accident. That accident being; firing the shot in the first place, or where he planned on shooting me. I can't forgive him for the actual situation. Kuro..." my eyes flickered down to his, "I basically had to hug that bullet when I caught it, it was so close to hitting me. No matter what Yukio was planning, if I hadn't acted when I did; I'd be dead. I can't forgive him for that."

"I don't think you should," my feline responded, his tone bitter. He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. "I don't think he meant for things to turn out this way. No, I can almost guarantee he didn't. While you two were growing up, I got to see the side of him while you weren't around." I raised an eyebrow at my familiar and he gave me a sad smile. "It was nothing major, trust me. But Yukio genuinely cares about you, never forget that. But he's just a teenager like you, and was just a child when he started fighting demons. I'm sure his judgement was clouded, and he made a hasty mistake that he regrets. I don't think you should forgive him, Rin. But I don't think you should shun him, either."

My face twisted with his last sentence. Shun him? I wasn't doing that. Sure, I wasn't friendly with Yukio at the moment, but goddammit, he shot me! I had every right to be upset with him. Every right not to want to speak or look at him. Did that equate to shunning? Even if it was, I believed my reaction was valid.

Kuro stood up, bringing me out of my thoughts. He twirled a few times before settling back down and laying his chin against one of my ribs. "I'm not telling you to make up with Yukio. I just want you to remember that he's just as torn up about the situation as you are."

I sighed, throwing my arms back over my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'll keep it noted."