A/N: Sad fanfiction. Involves Grell and William. I don't know why I wrote this, but Grell seems like the type to think like this. Tell me what you think. Slight OOC?

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING.

"Why do I always feel invisible, invisible?

Everyday I try and look my best,

Even though inside I'm such a mess.

Why do I always feel invisible, invisible?"

He lifted a single slender hand and gently brushed his crimson bangs out of yellow-green, cat-like eyes. He touched the bandages on his cheek gingerly, wincing slightly at the throbbing from beneath it. He bared his shark-like teeth slightly at his reflection, before frowning at himself. His eyes darted over his swollen, bruised face as he leaned closer to the large mirror, the light above him bright enough to hurt his eyes.

This is what he gets for disobeying orders.

He touched the bandage again before gently pulling it away from his pale cheek, watching as the skin underneath reddened from the removal of the tape, and how the scabbed over wound was turning a yellowy blue at the edges. He turned the tapes on, on cold of course, gripping the wash cloth from the ring beside his sink.

He ran it under the water, shivering slightly at the cold against his skin before raising it slightly, patting at the wound. He stopped, peering closer.

It would heal without a scar, probably.

He sighed loudly and dropped the cloth in the still running sink, gently taking off his white nightshirt. The smooth material slipped over his head easily, and he prodded at his firm flesh, feeling the throbbing of the muscles beneath the bruises.

All this would heal, with time.

He ran his fingers through his long hair slightly, frowning at his marred skin. He supposed it was all his fault, but William hadn't had to land on his head…

Perhaps he hadn't even seen the red-haired man?

He clenched at the sink, biting his sore lip as tears prickled his eyes. He shuddered and turned his head away from his reflection, his eyes closed tightly. He took a deep shaky breath, opening his eyes slowly to look at his reflection once more.


His fist throbbed, the glass embedded between his knuckles like a searing hot fire to his nerves. He cried out quietly as he cradled the hand to his slender chest, blood pumping out from the wound; soaking him.

"Damn…it." He murmured quietly, raising to his feet.

He needed a medical Shinigami.

He turned away from the mirror in disgust, stomping out of his room.

No one looked at him, despite his half-naked form. He kept his eyes on the ground, the chain of his glasses clinking slightly as he stumbled into the wall. He panted slightly, the front of his chest covered in sticky blood.


He sat down heavily, his eyes drifting closed slowly.

He heard people run by, but no one stopped to help him.

Am I invisible? He wondered calmly, his body trembling. Does not even one person care if I bleed to death here? He bit his lip as tears spilled from his eyes. He saw a pair of black shoes stop in front of him, and he froze.

The air around him was heavy as he held his breath, staring at those shoes.

"Sutcliff?" William asked, concern in his voice.

He smiled slightly, falling onto his side.

One person was enough. Just…one.


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