Work Text:
Akito stares blankly at the wall of his room before himself, as if waiting for something to change, for something to make him feel real again.
The cutting doesn't work, it never has, it never will. And he feels pathetic. No matter how hard he grasped the blade, no matter how many times it dug into his skin. No matter how deep it went. It was never going to be enough.
Akito clutches the fabric of his sleeve, with an emotion that could only be described as desperation. He feels an aching feeling in his gut, but what for, he wasn't sure.
He curls into himself, as if shielding his body from the remnants of something harmful, even despite that he is his own worst enemy.
Ah, he wants to disappear, more so than anything ever before.
I should do it again.
No, I shouldn't, I did it last night.
Oh, whatever, it wouldn't hurt to do more.
And so, Akito grabs the blade. He rolls up his sleeve, quite horribly slow.
He puts it to his skin, moving it along quickly.
A deep, red gash.
That soon turned into dozens, upon dozens. His blood spilling out more, more, more. It was certainly a satisfying sight to see.
I feel better. I needed that.
..Fuck's sake, I'm bleeding a lot.
This won't be fun to clean.
He would be fine, wouldn't he? This wasn't the first time. Far from it, actually.
But it hurt, more than he'd ever admit. A lot more than he would admit..
He had lost himself to the feeling. He went deeper than usual, that was the major issue. He let himself go too far, so much so, he'd lost track of time.
..What time was it? It couldn't be later than ten o'clock, right?
Oh, whatever. He could check later. It didn't matter now, there was a bigger issue on hand.
The blood dripped onto the floor.
drip.
drip.
drip.
drip.
drip.
Goddammit. Just when it couldn't get any worse.. Why did blood spill so easily? He hated it, in a way.
But the satisfaction from seeing the blood further outweighed the hassle of cleaning up. Something about the red liquid was satisfying to see, especially when he was the one bleeding.
Or maybe he was just a weirdo. But who wasn't, especially these days?
Ah... who was he kidding? He wasn't exactly the most normal person. Using a fake personality with acquaintances surely wasn't normal, nor was the way he could so easily drop it when talking to a friend. His hesitance to fully trust a person, but becoming quite literally attached to them once he truly did..
..Yeah, he was weird as shit.
Anyone with a brain could see that much.
But it was funny. People easily saw past that, which only ever served to confuse him.
How could anyone love or care for a useless person such as himself? Why care for such a fucking idiot? Why love someone with cuts and scars all over their body?
He created new cuts, quite frequently so, yet they somehow always went unnoticed. He found that it made no sense. After all, he didn't necessarily put all that much effort into hiding them.
Akito sighed, the sound quiet, awfully melancholic.
That was it for now. All he had to do was put the blade away and clean up. But strangely enough, he felt somewhat compelled to do more.
It's not enough.
It's never going to be enough.
He craved the burning sensation more than he could breathe, more than life, more than death. He longed to forever feel it, to not live without it.
But that was just a thought of intrusivity. Something he would likely never do. Only in the sense that he's too afraid to do the irrational action of hurting himself every damn day.
Now, where was he?
Ah. Right. Torn between continuing and cleaning.
Well, for starters, he had unfinished business.
He assumed it was late enough, so doing more, going further wouldn't hurt.
Or would it?
.
.
.
Abruptly, a knock at Akito's bedroom door could be heard. The sound was what brought him back to reality. It was also what brought him to the realization that he was ultimately dead.
From the other side of the door, Ena's voice could be heard.
"Akito?"
Fuck. Ena? Why Ena. Anyone else but Ena. She shouldn't have to see me like this.
All Akito could do was merely sit, frozen in place. Why? Why wasn't he doing anything? Was he accepting that nothing could be done?
How unlike him. He always found some sort of way to do something differently, to push past things, even if it took advice. With his so characteristically stubborn personality, it should be like him to refuse to quit, to refuse to give up.
But this was different. It wasn't like music. It wasn't a competition, it wasn't a loss, it wasn't a win. It was only his sister.
Ena spoke again,
"Can I borrow your phone charger?"
Oh, the world was cruel. She was actually being nice for once too? Akito felt like he could cry, perhaps at the sheer absurdity of his current situation, at how pathetic he was.
And of course, the only thing Akito could do was sit there. Sit with his back pressed up against the side of his bed. Sit there staring hopelessly at his bedroom door, ultimately staying silent in hopes Ena would think he'd gone to the bathroom or something.
He found himself subconsciously slipping the blade underneath his bed in a temporary hiding spot, as if that would do anything to hide the cuts, the blood, on his fucked up arm. As if that would hide the painfully evident fact that he was hurting himself just moments ago.
Damn it.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, Ena spoke again. The words that made Akito feel as though his heart were about to come to an ever-painful stop.
"Akito? I'm coming in."
The door slowly creaked open, Ena's eyes scanning the room for Akito, in the so dimly lit room that only the light coming in from the hall illuminated.
It was dumb, and Akito would usually make fun of her for it, tell her to just turn on the light of the bedroom. But, for once, he was so grateful she hadn't. Not yet, at least.
Ena spotted Akito's silhouette on the floor by his bed, sitting there. Finally, she turned the light on, her eyes now properly able to see the ginger.
"Seriously? What are you doing on the floor—"
And then she saw it. Saw them. saw his arm, saw the cuts. The blood. Ena's eyes widened at the sight, immediately doing what her mind subconsciously had told her; run.
And so she ran, toward Akito—no. Her brother. She ran toward her brother and knelt down, although it was more like collapsed, onto her knees beside him.
Not a word was said, not that Ena would have cared what Akito had to say about this situation for right now. All she did was hug him. She hugged him, tightly.
And that hug broke Akito. It absolutely shattered his being. His heart, his soul. The realization fully settled in, and it hurt. It hurt so bad. This was his sister. This was Ena, his older sister.
And she was seeing him so vulnerable, so broken down, so... horrible. And the first thing she did was hug him. Not even speak. They usually yelled, bickered at each other. This was a first.
But Ena couldn't even say anything, even if she so desperately wanted to. She wanted to scream, shout, cry. But she couldn't. Physically couldn't. She couldn't muster up a single word.
And maybe what hurt the most was the absolutely deafening silence. The fact that Ena had been rendered utterly speechless.
It created a deep, uncomfortable silence, and all Akito could hear was his ears ringing. His breathing. His sister's quiet sobs.
I failed as a sister.
He's been doing this for God knows how long.
He looks so dead. His spark, his fire, it's all gone.
And I didn't even notice.
What kind of sister am I?
Her little brother, the one she was supposed to protect, even if it were at the expense of her own life..
He wasn't okay.
And she had been so oblivious to that fact.
"I'm sorry."
Was all that Ena managed to say. It was all she could physically say without her voice breaking, without her heart completely bursting, as if it were crying with her.
"Why are you the one apologizing?"
Is what Akito wanted to say, but he couldn't bring himself to. He couldn't even form a word to speak to his scared, weeping sister.
He was such a complete moron. This only proved further just how useless, how foolish, how incompetent he was.
There was more long, suffocating silence. But it lasted for far more time than the first. It was worse this time, because now, Ena only seemed to sob harder.
Akito swallowed, the action a subconscious, anxious habit.
He knew Ena was going to talk to him eventually. He knew Ena would scold him. And he didn't want her to. He didn't want her to say one word about it, to just forget what she saw.
But he knew that wasn't going to happen. She had to talk to him about it.
After what seemed to be twenty minutes, Ena finally spoke again.
"Why..? Why did you..?"
Her voice wasn't full of irritation. It wasn't angry. It wasn't teasing. It was raw, honest. It carried a deep sense of worry and sadness.
There was a pause before Akito said anything. Because what could he possibly say? He hadn't a reason in the first place.
He couldn't blame it on some sort of spiral, even if it was fully known amongst the Shinonome household that Akito had issues. The reason he did this? It was.. different. How could he possibly—
"Akito. Tell me why. Be honest,"
A pause. Ena's voice softened, trying her best to not start crying again.
"Please. I'm your sister. You.. You trust me, right?"
Akito felt as though his throat physically tightened as Ena spoke the final part. That was true.. But this was far more difficult to admit than anything else. To explain the reason he hurt to someone, and a family member, at that?
It was too much.
It was too much for him to handle.
It was too much for him to handle. It was too much, so much to the point he began to feel tears forming, stinging at his eyes.
"..Of course I trust you."
Akito's voice trembled as those five words were finally spoken.
Pathetic.
Dead.
He sounded ultimately defeated. It was as though his heart could stop at any given moment, even though he knew it wouldn't.
"Then talk to me.. Talk to me, Akito."
How was he even meant to do that? It was far, far easier said than done. Surely Ena understood that much?
A small, "Fine." could faintly be heard from Akito, his voice uncharacteristically weak.
He sounded almost like a child. And he even more felt like one.
It was like his entire being was shattered. It reminded Ena of herself years ago, and even somewhat recently.
His voice carried a weight to it, yet it was still so very empty.
"I feel.. lost."
Well, that was certainly some start to a conversation about mental health.
Everyone has their own struggles. People feel lost all the time. Akito wasn't special. He was just the average teenager. He felt an emotion everyone feels at one point in their life.
Ena wanted to yell at him, to ask him why he resorted to this of all things. But she knew that wouldn't get this conversation anywhere. It was already difficult enough to get such a stubborn idiot like Akito to open up anyway. She was grateful he was actually telling her anything at all.
Akito continued,
"It's dumb, it doesn't make sense, I know."
His tone seemed to stiffen a little. It was as though he were trying to keep his voice from trembling, even if it were somewhat evident he seemed to be on the verge of just crying his eyes out, like the loser he really was.
"I'm tired, Ena. But I'm not.. I'm not going to.. just kill myself because of that."
Those words clawed at Ena's heart. Hearing Akito so blunt about literally taking his damn life. The words were meant to be reassuring, but she knew that meant he thought about doing it, at least once before. And that scared her. The thought of ever losing her brother didn't just scare her, no, it terrified her.
And then she did something irrational, without even thinking, she spoke. But her voice wasn't soft, truly, it was far from it. It was raw, carrying a sorrowful undertone.
"So that means you thought about it? You thought- you thought about commiting suicide?! Akito, you know I can't afford to—"
"Lose me? Well you're not going to. You're thinking the worst. I said I wouldn't, did I not?"
Silence, again. Akito had a point, yet Ena couldn't help but worry. And maybe she was worrying because it reminded her of the someone she was, the someone she is.
How alike they were. It unsettled Ena deeply. Akito shouldn't have to think so similarly as to someone like herself.
Ena visibly softened after a moment, the tone of her voice less painful to hear now.
"Can I.. Help you clean this up?"
The question lingered in the air for a moment, but the air seemed less suffocating for now.
Now, Akito didn't respond verbally. But he gave a small nod, and that was enough of a response, wasn't it?
And so she helped.
It stung, horribly so. But maybe that wasn't so bad of a thing.
The hurt from cleaning the wounds would never hurt as much as someone finding out like Ena did that night.
The only thing that sucked was the bandages. The material felt so irritating.
"..Try to quit doing that. I know it's easier said than done. But take your anger out on something else. You can talk to me instead if you need to, you know?"
The siblings hugged once more, properly this time. And it wasn't so much out of a terrified action anymore. It was more out of comfort, a reassurance that everything would turn out to be okay in the end.
And thus, it marked the end of that night.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌