Despite My Morals

Chapter 1

He didn't mean to do it. He glanced down at the now lifeless body on the ground, shocked at the horror he had just committed. His hands were wet and covered with blood that wasn't his own, and he felt such a unique feeling. A feeling of hopelessness, of despair, that he had never felt before. A million thoughts rushed through his mind. What exactly had happened?

One minute he was being backed into an alley by a much older man, and the next minute that man was dead on the ground, the blood now drenching Makoto's shoes. Although Makoto surely was in the right - the man threatened him. He had tried to kill him. He wanted to murder him and he wanted to murder him slowly and painfully. Makoto didn't know what had caused the stranger to want to attack him like this, but he knew that he had started to feel like a monster ever since he picked up the knife.

He remembered all of it, up until he grabbed the knife. That's when things became a blur. He didn't recall exactly when it slipped from the man's hand, or when he had picked it up in a fight or flight induced panic, or when he had started to stab, and stab, and stab. He just remembered stabbing aimlessly with his survival instinct doing the work.

He looked down at the man from where he was standing, and suddenly turned and vomited onto the bloody pavement, backing away from the puke and blood mixture, and walking backwards into a large rubbish bin presumably owned by a nearby shop or business. He wiped his mouth on his damp sleeve, nearly vomiting again purely from the aftertaste.

No matter how much he wanted to, he just couldn't look away from the body. There was blood. There was so much blood.

As if the corpse would suddenly jolt alive again, he slowly crept over, tip-toeing even. He bent down, and looked at the man's mutilated torso, covered in stab wounds. He reached a shakey hand out, unable to tear his eyes from the dark stain on his brown hoodie, no doubt a temporary reminder of the atrocitiy he had committed.

When he finally peeled his eyes away, his eyes focused on what his hand had grabbed admist his internal panic: the weapon. He dropped it again, a small clang greeting him. As the noise echoed through the alley, however small, he panicked and immediately darted his head around to the opposite end, where life was continuing as normal for those not involved in the ordeal. When roughly fifteen seconds, which felt like hours, passed with nobody coming to investigate the noise, he turned back to the body.

He slowly shuffled around, taking his small backpack off his shoulders and placing it on a dry patch of ground. He unzipped it and quickly made room for his hoodie, not folding it as he was in a hurry. He grabbed the knife as well, intending to place it in between his hoodie, for it to rest safely. Though, that's not what he did.

Firstly, he wiped the knife on the hoodie's sleeve, to get any remaining liquid off of it. Oddly enough, before he put it in the bag, he titled the blade so that he could see a small part of his reflection in it. He stared at it for a moment, and it felt as if time had slowed down. He didn't recognise the young man staring back at him.

He had left college this morning as Makoto Naegi, and will return a monster.

He let the thought simmer in his mind as he placed the knife where it belonged, safely in his bag. He also removed his shoes and decided to hold them in his hand. If any passerbys asked, he would give them the dumb excuse of having spilled something on them. Would he technically he wrong?

He then zipped the bag back up and put it on his shoulders. He had to steady himself as he stood up, still feeling uneasy from the man's attack on him. Once steady, he took one good look at the man and tried to convince him that he had it coming, that he deserved it.

It may seem that way in the eyes of the law, but to Makoto, he couldn't find any reason to justify a crime such as murder when it came from his own hands.

He turned and started to leave the crime scene at a slow walk, which turned to a jog as he got onto the street, which broke into a run as he let the true severity of his crime dawn on him. Yes, he was aware that he looked like a madman - you would too if you saw a man with no shoes on running through the street at the speed of light - but what else could he do?

He was running, running from what he had just done. Running from the person he was then, and trying to outrun the person he was destined to become.

He finally reached a bus stop after what seemed like forever, and he felt he was literally waiting forever for the bus he needed to take to finally arrive. He nearly missed it when he tried distracting himself by checking the timetable on his phone, though he managed to catch it. The bus driver gave him an odd look, no doubt Makoto's disturbed expression and lack of shoes on his feet being the cause. Makoto found it hard to care, and just paid what he owed and found a seat in the back corner.

He was left alone again, with his own thoughts. He pulled out his laptop and flicked through some of his assignments, most of them already more than half completed, with the completed ones having excellent feedback. He cared about school, or at least he used to. He didn't know if it was just the current sceanario, but he felt extremely opposed to doing any sort of assignment ever again.

Time passed as he did nothing but try to distract himself by playing games like Papa's Pizzeria and Fireboy and Watergirl, though he found the latter to be quite boring without a partner. He eventually gave up on the games and tried to be somewhat productive, though as he began to re-read his research paper, immediately figured that study will get you nowhere in prison and shut his laptop again.

He instead took out his phone and saw he had a message from a friend, Byakuya Togami. Usually, he's always up to chat with a friend, but he just stared at the notification for a while until his screen shut off automatically. He looked up, suddenly realising he needed to get off at the next stop. He put his stuff back into his bag, and when the next stop arrived, yelled a 'Thank you!' to the bus driver, and hopped off.

He walked around the block, arriving at his college campus, making zero pit stops and going straight to his dorm room. He shared a dorm with Togami, so knew he would probably get Hell raised for ignoring his message, but Makoto couldn't care less, because he didn't have intentions of staying there any longer.

He shoved his key into the lock and opened the door, shutting and relocking it immediately once inside, double checking it was locked.

"Byakuya?" Makoto called out, but to no response. Alas, Makoto decided to check the message, and discovered that Byakuya had toddled off to the library to study for an upcoming exam. Surprisingly.

He shrugged and walked into his shared room. You could instantly tell who's side belonged to who. The plain side, with no decorations at all except for a small photo of Makoto and Byakuya sitting on the bedside table, belonged to Byakuya. Makoto's side had a colourful duvet, pictures of his family and friends littered everywhere. He didn't want to look at any of them. He couldn't look at any of them.

He tossed his bag at the end of his bed, kicking it under with little force, but it did the job. He immediately climbed into bed, not bothering to get changed. He stared hard at the ceiling, trying to make sense of everything. The silence met back with silence.

He rolled over to face the wall and stayed that way for God knows how long. The one thing he does know, is that he fell asleep at some point, because he awoke the next morning with guilt wallowing inside him yet again.

The murder charge may or may not disappear, but the guilty conscious never will.