Malevolent Reflection

Pairing: Yamazaki Sousuke/Tachibana Makoto

Rating: R (M)

Content Warning: Attempted Suicide

Partially inspired by the 'Insidious' franchise.

The light reflects off the knife's blade, giving the edge a notable gleaming appearance which only serves to attract Makoto even more. He watches the glistening dagger with a growing fascination, idly wondering if he could bear to sully such precious silver with his own blood. Not that his dear friends would ever let it happen, but if by chance he were to be left alone for long enough, the crimson liquid would surely corrode and damage what should be a fine piece of high quality cutlery.

He's standing in his small apartment bathroom, in front of a mirror that he hasn't even spared a single glance to since he walked in. The door is locked, although anyone who wants inside badly enough can easily break the old doorknob that's one forceful push away from falling off. Yes, some unfortunate soul will definitely find him before his blood has had enough time to permanently ruin the knife. He's sure of it.

This didn't happen to him overnight; it has taken several, long, excruciatingly painful months for Makoto to come to this point. The original idea, although a spur of the moment kind of thing, was quickly taken up and nurtured by the growing sickness in his mind. That little inkling of thought should have disappeared just as quickly as it had come into existence, but instead, it festered and grew within the deepest, darkest depths of Makoto's psyche, and soon mutated and clawed its way to the forefront of his mind, becoming an immediate and all-encompassing fixation.

This obsession which has now manifested itself into the ultimate 'life changing' decision terrifies Makoto. The uncertainty lingers like a dark shadow that constantly whispers to him, telling him it's not going to work, his love is gone, and he will never be reunited with him, even if he goes through with this.

His fear is omnipresent and unyielding; it all but screams at him to turn back, to seek help. He has friends after all, friends who would move Heaven and Earth if he so much as implied that he might need the slightest bit of help. But despite himself and the friends that are starting to fade away from his clouded mind, the desire, no, the simple, yet urgent and ineffable need to have the man he lost much too soon overwhelms and thoroughly abolishes everything else he has in this world. The decision consumes him, leaving him with nowhere else to go.

Makoto continues to watch the blade with a sense of morbid enchantment; it occurs to him that he does not know what he's waiting for. Certainly not for anyone to walk in on him-the last thing he wants is for someone to ruin this chance, to take his one shot at being happy again. Because he knows, if he's caught, it's over. He might be able to talk his friends and family out of sending him somewhere, but the freedom he has now would cease to exist. Twenty-four hour supervision and an existence akin to what he dramatically refers to as 'prison' would become his one and only way of life, a life that he clearly doesn't want anymore.

There is nothing left to think about, nothing left to decide or figure out. He's doing this; it's his one and only opportunity to be with his beloved once more. There isn't a trace of hesitancy in his fluent motions as he takes a hold of the dagger with his right hand and readily holds his left arm out in front of him, with his wrist clearly displayed.

Every voice that begs him to reconsider-they sound like his friends'-is suddenly overpowered by his desire, and coupled with the thought that he will soon be with him again, after all this time. He's done with waiting, and he's ready to end it all and await for death's sweet, merciful, embrace.

Makoto watches his actions with glossed-over and unseeing eyes; the blade now hovers mere centimeters above the ulnar artery in his wrist. He can't see it of course, but he's studied enough anatomy over the years to know exactly where to cut. With his mind made up and having nothing left to lose, he brings the knife down, ready to end it all.

"Stop!"

That voice, Makoto recognizes that voice, although he cannot remember the last time he's heard it. The tone is strong and commanding, it sends a frigid shiver down Makoto's spine, freezing him to the core, and leaving him with no other option but to listen. The blade stops just before its sharp tip is about to pierce his skin.

His gaze shifts upwards, forcing him to look at what should have been his very own reflection. However, a small, twisted shred of fate decides to smile down upon him that day, and Makoto sees the one man he had been so sure that he would never see in this life again.

"Sousuke." His voice is barely above a whisper, and even now he can't believe it to be real.

The entity in the mirror that has taken the place of his reflection, Sousuke, simply smiles back at Makoto. His aquamarine eyes are full of love and adoration, just as Makoto remembers.

"I'm here."

At that moment, every last ounce of tension in Makoto's body fades away. The knife falls to the floor, left to be forgotten.

To Be Continued...

Thank you for reading!