Disclaimer- I own nothing!
When would Kyouya learn that things were never going to change? This new group was nothing bunch of close knit jerks, to put it nicely. Three of them worried only about themselves. They would cut class, focus only on what they wanted with no worry about what was best for everyone. At least he was with his friends. That was the only thing that made the class better. Thanks to this switch though he was becoming closer to his friends, they talked more, stayed together more. Conversations were still awkward but since he had been partnered with his one friend they got together more. They talked deeply; Kyouya poured his heart out to him one day without realizing it until he was done. Realizing, he felt terrible for doing so before his friend told him that if he ever needed to get away to just call him and they would get together. It was a nice gesture and one he greatly appreciated. Maybe together they could help each other. His friend was doing things that worried him; maybe if they talked more he would stop as well. Maybe from this he would feel like he belonged better.
After going over what they had to for class they parted for the day, Kyouya going back to his room figuring he would be alone even if Chris was back from class or not. Standing at the subway waiting for the next one uptown Kyouya stepped back, closer to the wall, there it was again. That vision, him seeing himself at the edge of the platform, him stepping off as the train came into the station. What was happening to him? He didn't want to die, did he? No, why would he, he was becoming closer to a friend. Feeling a hole in his chest he ran back up the stairs from the subway deciding to walk back. He was more than forty blocks away but he needed to move. This feeling, this desire had to end but how?
Making it back to the dorm he was barely walking, his feet hurt, his heart hurt, his chest hurt, he was tired. Using his key card to get into the building and room he collapsed on the bed before kicking his shoes off. Shutting his eyes his mind slipped away before he realized what was happening. Rolling over he saw Chris at his computer, had he been there the entire time? What time was it? Seven thirty already? He slept much longer than he usually did, he got back around five. Feeling hungry he slipped on his shoes and key card to go to the convenient store behind the building. He would just get something quick for dinner, not in the mood to make anything and not really having the money for anything else. Grabbing a can of iced tea and microwavable burgers he walked around seeing if there was anything else he wanted while he was here like he usually did. As he looked around he could feel the emptiness in his chest still there from before. What was this? Why would it not go away? What was happening to him? How could he make this go away?
Going to bed he plugged his headphones into his iPod and let it play hoping that would help. His body tossed and turned as the negative emotions swirled around his mind. He was a failure, a loser, no one would miss him. He could vanish and no one would realize he was missing. He was away from home, his family didn't miss him, it would take them days to realize something was going on here. He was nothing but a ghost floating by day after day. Nothing but a phantom haunting all those he met in this life. The reason no one wanted him around was because he was a loser, a nobody, a freak. He wasn't like the others, he wasn't pretty, outspoken, wasn't a partygoer, wasn't a risk taker. Why was he put on this Earth if his life meant nothing? The resources he used could go to someone else, someone more deserving. Sitting up in bed he made his way to the bathroom. Carefully turning the light on and trying to not disturb Chris he closed the door and stood in front of the sink. Running the water he waited for it to become cold before letting his hands under and splashing his face with it. Coming up he saw his face in the mirror. Bags under his eyes, a permanent scowl on his face from dealing with a rough patch during his teenage years, people always thinking he was mad or bored or whatever. Feeling tears well up under his eyes he cried over the sink, over the running water. The hole in his chest tearing open further, consuming his heart, his lungs, leaving nothing behind. He couldn't go on anymore, he didn't want to. He was never going to be anything else than the loser he was. He was never going to find love, find friends, find happiness; he was doomed to be this way forever. After all why settle for him when there was much better out there?
Leaving the bathroom quietly he went to his desk looking for something, something that would help him manage this pain. Opening the center draw felt around until he came across scissors, hair trimming scissors. He never used them for that but that was not what mattered. Clutching them in his hand he felt his grip not wanting to let go of them. His mind pulled him back to the bathroom, closed the door, turned the light on, rolled his pajama sleeve up and slit his wrist. As the blood flowed to the surface of his skin his mind calmed, his eyes saw what he did, his heart slowed. There wasn't much blood at all, just a narrow cut just under his wrist. Rinsing it off he felt it start to sting as he wiped the blade, closed it, hit the light off, and left the room. Grabbing a band-aid from his desk he put it on before climbing back into bed and falling asleep for the night.
Waking up the next morning he tried to hide his band-aid from Chris just in case he noticed and got dressed, got breakfast, and headed to class. Arriving first he dropped his backpack and kept his light jacket on. He really didn't have many long sleeved shirts in the room but he had plenty of jackets. He would keep in on until his cut healed. He didn't want anyone to see what he did. He wasn't overly proud of it, he had a moment of weakness last night. And if someone saw it would they say something? What would he say if they did? He wasn't holding anyone to see it though. He didn't mean enough for them to notice anything out of place. Feeling his chest rip open his mind cursed that he left the scissors in the room. The relief he felt last night his body wanted to feel again. It was something that could help get him through this eleven hour school day. Taking his seat in the corner he barely smiled as people started to enter the classroom. He didn't want to speak, he had nothing to say, he had nothing they wanted to hear. It was better for everyone if he kept his mouth shut, stayed out of the way.
"Hey Kyouya." Seeing the friend he hung out with yesterday enter there was no mention of what they talked about, or even that they hung out. Nodding a "hello" Kyouya went back to his iPod, looking for a different song, a song that fit his mood better.
This story is back. I am sorry for the delay; many things (including other stories) have gotten in the way. Not to mention this story, being based of what I went through, can be very hard to write at times. I hope those that have started to read this continue and continue to enjoy it. I hope to work on 5 very soon. Much Love.