worn out.

Q For Quelling

He couldn't see. And he smiles lightly at that fact. Maybe they'll forget and he'll loose enough blood. Maybe he won't wake up. Perhaps this time he can remain in the nothing that has stuck by him since her death.

His eyes roll to the back of his head painfully and his breathing disappears into light inhales and wheezed exhales.

Kanashi walks in with footsteps of snow, they aren't there, that means they're done. At least it would any other day; not that she knew the consequences of her actions.

She touches his shoulder and he subconsciously whimpers in response to the contact; it burns. There is a large gash there. There are large gashes everywhere, his body is no longer paper white, it is blood red, covered in crimson. He feels cold, it's too cold. He feels like ice on fire. He tries to cough, there is something in his throat.

He spits out a lump of something acerbic.

Carmine. He is dyed red.

_

Karma waits outside the tall house, his golden orbs are closed and his lips are twisted into a large grin that would look menacing to anyone, but it's softer than it usual is. The doorbell is sticking out, he has the urge to ring it again. To put pressure on the little button, to speed up the time needed for them to come. He decides to wait, counting down sixty seconds in his head.

Three. Two. One.

Just as he is about to ring the doorbell again the pristine white door opens.

"And who might you be?" It's a woman's voice, gentle and calm. He looks at her, at her bright blue eyes and mud brown hair, and smiles. She smiles back, her pale skin stretching backwards. It's awkward and fake, Karma gulps.

His mouth is full of plastic.

"Honey, who is it?" A deep voice calls from down the dim hallway. It is daunting, but he does not waver.

"Hey, is this Atsu's house?" She chuckles and nods. Her hands scratch at the back of her neck, if she faked being nervous well enough, the boy might be compelled to leave.

"Yes, I'm Akari, and that's my husband, Luka. You know our boy then?"

"Yes, I'm his classmate, Akabane Karma, pleasure to meet you." He bows respectfully, his smile is as fake as theirs. "I'm here to give him something, our teacher gave this to us today,"

He holds out the red book to them and they smile and take it, he waves goodbye and they go back in.

He leaves, his eyes darken and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his oddly dry mouth, disappointment fills him to his head and he doesn't know why. He kicks a pebble in the otherwise clean road, it skids across the perfect asphalt. A growl sticks from his throat and he angrily stomps home.

"Dammit!"

_

Kanashi cries quietly. He can hear it even in his unconscious form, she's crying. The whimpering echoes through his head and he opens his eyes slowly; as if they were taped together.

"—id we tell you that you could!?" Someone shouts. It's loud and deep and terrifying-- no it's not scary, he's not scared.

And then he looses his hearing and his ears yell into his brain. His ears go blind and his mouth tastes of old pennies and salt. He sighs out, but it is wet and full of pain, he cannot feel his arms, they are a burning sort of numb. There is so much pain that he can't feel them anymore. He can't see; everything looks like static. Black and white dots. That's all there is.

_

Something is wrapped around his arm and he frowns at the feeling of bandages. Kanashi shouldn't be taking care of him— not that he cares. He doesn't. If she takes care of him then she can only blame herself if there is a punishment.

It's her fault. Only she can be blamed.

No it's his fault; if only he wasn't so goddamn useless, if only he could swim better. If only he was a little older.

He opens his eyes for a split second before passing out. The only things he can't make out are the bloodstained wall and her long black hair being cut by a knife.

That's a reminder. He really needs a haircut, his hair is beginning to make his throat itch and if he scratches people will see the marks and it will disrupt the schedule he's made in his head.

What a shame it would be should his routine ruin itself.

_

"Hey Atsu, why didn't you tell me," She said in a meek voice. Her nimble fingers lifting up his skinny yet muscular arm.

He looked at her with wide, dead eyes, his lips bruised and his arms and legs covered in bandages. "Tell you what?"

Her charcoal eyes have a spark in them, her tan lips- she really was a replica of their father, wasn't she? -and she wraps his left forearm meticulously. Her fingers ghost his skin; and he has a clench in his gut.

The bandages feel like pillows against his burning skin. The ointment helps, he needs to know how Kanashi got it.

"You have a friend, Atsu."

She gives a sad sort of smile, her black orbs are glossy against the light. Like fish eyes.

There is silence for a fleeting moment. It is so thick Kanashi cannot breath and Atsu asphyxiates, but then they can breath and he replies to her statement. His voice twists with confusion as he speaks in a cracked and erratic manner.

"I don't have friends, Kanashi. You know that."

Her eyebrows furrow and her black eyes scatter to the thick, hardcover, red textbook in the corner of the room. Then they come back to his blank expression.

"Yes, of course."

And she goes back to wrapped his bandages like he had done for her so many times before.

Q is for Quelling;

My skin is meltingーー-

꒐꓄ ꃳ꒤ꋪꋊꇙ。

/dןǝɐsǝ sɐʌǝ 🄰🅃 🄻🄴🄰🅂🅃 ⱧɆⱤ」

ʂԋҽ ∂єѕєяνєѕ ᎿᎾ 𝐛𝐞 𝓼𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓭. ・・

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