Prompt: Imagine your OTP cuddling together when person A suddenly whispers something to Person B, trying to get their attention. Upon getting their attention, they show B their scars that they're insecure about. Bonus: Person B also exposes some scars. (credit to otpprompts . tumblr . com)

Summary: Yuto has a lot of scars. [Yuto/Yuzu, please read the warning.]

Pairing(s)/Character(s): established Yuto/Yuzu

Rating: T

Warning(s): Please note that this deals with self-harm (in such a way that it is not meant to be romanticized, because that shit ain't pretty alright), so read at your own risk.

Words: 975

A/N: Don't really have a lot to say on this one besides the fact that I've been dying to write for these two in ages and this... is really not what i was expecting from myself once i finally got to doing it haha. Fortunately I'm already working on a fluffier piece for them (bc honestly i think i've cried over these two enough as is), soooo I hope to get that out in the near future. But maybe I'm giving you all the wrong idea - in my mind this is a bit of a happy piece, actually (rather, it definitely fits into the hurt/comfort genre), as it's more about that whole acceptance thing i've been talking about lately than... the pain itself i guess. idk. take it as you will.

"Yuzu," Yuto whispers, one cold night when it's so quiet that one may fall under the impression that the entire world is asleep. Groggily, the girl nestled in his arms lifts her head, wearily trying to blink the sleep out of her own eyes as she looks to her boyfriend sleepily. Not even a half hour earlier, the two of them had been cuddling in front of a movie and by now Yuzu is all to eager to sleep, protected and warm in the shelter of Yuto's arms. But Yuto hardly says anything he doesn't need to, so Yuzu does what she can to banish the edges of sleep fighting to overcome her.

"What's up?" she asks, her thumb tracing small circles on the back of his hand as she studies her boyfriend's face.

There's the smallest beat of silence, and then, "Can I show you something?"

Yuzu doesn't even think to hesitate. "Of course."

The room is quiet once more as Yuto's arm lifts from where it's wrapped around Yuzu's waist in order to roll up the dark sleeve draped over the opposite wrist. Curiously, Yuzu watches his movements, her sleep-addled brain awed by the nimble and practiced grace of his actions. It's because of her admiration of his gestures that she doesn't quite register what she's supposed to be seeing, spending at least full ten seconds merely staring at his wrist.

And then she sees them.

Bile rises to the back of Yuzu's throat as she takes in the array of neat little blood red scratches stretched across Yuto's now-exposed skin, her hand freeing itself from his grip to gently brush her fingertips against the scars.

Yuto has a lot of scars. All along his back, there are faded wounds telling the stories of his struggles against Academia's goons - long, ugly gashes that Yuzu knows extend far beyond the surface of his skin. They are horrid reminders of what happened to him, Shun, and Ruri. And worst of all, they are reminders of what happened to Heartland.

But these scars are different.

They are small, practiced cuts that remind Yuzu of tally marks, cuts too precise to be inflicted on a chaotic battlefield. But Yuzu knows even before Yuto says anything that they are just as much a sign of war as the gashes along his back; a war against himself.

"After Ruri was taken," Yuto murmurs quietly, though not so quietly that Yuzu misses the crack in his voice. "I fell into a depression. I just felt so helpless. Shun, Ruri and I... We were supposed to look after each other, you know? But by letting Ruri be taken... I let them both down."

Gently, Yuzu replies, "I doubt either of them blamed you for that, Yuto."

"I know," he says, his voice wavering notably by this point. Yuzu quickly looks away from his wrist to study his face, fearing that he's started crying. Though his eyes are dry, the pain inflicted upon him is evident as his grey and steely gaze meets her own. "But I did."

Silently, Yuzu looks back to where her thumb carefully traces one of his scars. Now that she thinks about it, Yuto's always hiding his wrists - if he isn't wearing his typical arm bands, he's covered by long sleeves. 'He's ashamed of them.' Of course he is. Yuzu understands that feeling better than anyone, but Yuto doesn't need to be. No one has the right to judge him after all he's been through, and if she heard anyone bad-mouth him, she'd be at their throat in seconds.

Despite his shame, however, he's exposed himself to her.

Now it's Yuzu's voice that breaks as she finally admits, "I've also cut myself." Beneath her, she feels Yuto stiffen. "I'm, uh, not sure I can show you, though," she adds in a rush. "You see, I hated the idea of anyone knowing, so they're in a place I thought no one would see..."

There's another beat of silence, and then Yuto's free hand is wrapping around her waist again and drawing her closer to him. "I'm sorry. You've been through a lot."

"Oh God, no," Yuzu interjects incredulously, looking back to meet Yuto's gaze again. "I've been through nothing, compared to you. Mine just stemmed from silly teenage angst, and -"

"No," Yuto states flatly. "It's not silly if you hurt yourself over it."

Desperately, Yuzu whimpers, still holding Yuto's gaze, "But you -"

"Yuzu," Yuto says wearily, "There's no comparing our sadness. Your feelings are just as valid as my own." Again, Yuzu's gaze flicks down to her boyfriend's wrists. Despite herself, she finds herself comparing the scars marking the skin in front of her to the one's stretched along the inside of her thighs. Yuto's are shorter and a bit less messy in comparison to her own, but they are more or less the same.

"Alright," Yuzu murmurs reluctantly. "You deserved better though, Yuto."

A kind of clipped laugh escapes her boyfriend's lips as his grip on her waist tightens just slightly. "So did you." Silently, Yuzu tilts her head upward to press a soft and chaste kiss to the side of Yuto's lips. They don't say anymore then, merely mulling over their conversation in the comfort of one another's arms. She's blessed to have him, really. After the confession she had just made, many would brush her off or judge her for what she had done, many would compare her foolish feelings to those who are far less privileged than she. Yuto especially has every reason to look down on her for being so weak.

But he doesn't.

"Yuto," she finally whispers, though she's not quite sure if he's awake or not. "Thank you."

He doesn't say anything, instead simply taking her hand and giving it a small squeeze.

And that's enough.