Disclaimer: Sukisho is in no way mine.

Friend

Sitting on the wide bathroom counter, the pink haired young man swung his legs lightly. He remained there, hands by his side, tightly gripping the edge of the counter between his fingers. Next to him lay a beautiful, tiny object just out of his range of vision. His head looked up, staring at the wall, refusing to even acknowledge his company. But whether he dared to embrace it with his soft pink eyes, the object was there by his side.

His body felt the gentle call. His limbs ached with the need to desperately reach out and claim his friend. His skin itched angrily with the desire to feel the kiss the object would bring along his flesh.

He took a single second to look down upon the object. It danced with the light on its body, promising a pleasure he could find no where else. It held a delicious edge that would slice away his pain in a swift, straight fashion. All he had to do was allow his fingers to take the blade.

Gingerly, Sunao released the counter from his firm grip. Stretching out the fingers in his right hand he slowly obtained the small razor next to him. Hands shaking, he brought the tool to his face, still mesmerized by its beauty.

His eyes stung with unwant for his desire. How long had he been doing this? He could remember the first bite of the blade as he sat cold and alone in the torture of the lab he had been left in. Back then he only had a piece of shredded wire. The ugly dull metal had called to him and he had followed its lead. When the dull edge first settled in his skin, a sort of shock vibrated down his spine, through his body. A gasp left his parted lips. Taking deep unsure breaths, he attempted to calm his fastly beating heart within his chest. With tears burning down his pale checks, he brought his right hand back to bring another blissful cut down his already bruised and damaged flesh. Blood flowed down to the palm of his hand, caking around the start of his fingers. For the first time since he had been abounded, he felt comfort. He didn't feel so alone.

But now, away from the horrors of the lab, away from the torture of abandonment, and away from the obsession of revenge, Sunao didn't really need his old friend. Outside this bathroom door, a few feet away were new friends. Nanami was out in the kitchen, no doubt cooking up a tasty feast for dinner, ever the perfect little housewife. And Shinichirou was there, forgiving even though he still had the bandages covering wounds that Sunao had burdened him with. But most importantly Hashiba was there. He was there, waiting since Sunao had told him words of an excuse to the bathroom. He was finally there again, after all these years of longing. Even after what he had done to the blue haired boy. He should have been shunned after such a crime. Yet Hashiba had taken him in his arms and given him smiles and promises that were so strong and so real. He was there. Just outside the bathroom door. And would continue to be there for him.

So this old friend of his, why would he need it?

Dropping the blade, the wide, pink eyed boy slid of the counter. His feet rested on the floor as he faintly made the decision to reject his past needs. He no longer needed, nor wanted this. Stepping towards the door, he glanced back slightly.

'I don't need you,' he silently told the unhearing object. Instead it just watched him almost mockingly, challengingly. Shouts almost fell from his lips as though he was required to explain himself to the tiny object. And still it stared back at him. It stared back until his hands twitched again. It watched as tears began to brim the corner of his eyes. Surely it enjoyed the sight of him desperately reaching out to it as though it was his only lifeline.

And when he felt the cool blade between his fingers he knew there was nothing he could do. Falling down to the ground, in one swift motion, he had his left pant leg pulled up to his knee. Scars hummed against his leg. Long white lines, some deeper than others, some rawer, pinker, and newer then others decorated his cream flesh, tarnishing the skin from his knee all the way down his ankle of his inner lower leg. So many marks made up the cure, the sin, the beauty that he had needed throughout his past. Lifting his hand just a few inches from the easily concealable flesh, he slashed the sharp blade against his exposed skin. With tears spilling from his red and swollen eyes, Sunao allowed the blade to repeat its actions against his body. A couple of more times and beautiful rivers of red were making their way down his leg, nearly reaching his shoes. Running his hand in the trails, he prevented any of the precious red blood from making any stains to his footwear. Instead the blood began to pool between his fingers, onto the white tile floor. He soaked in the sweet bitter bliss that filled his veins at the pain that the blade had brought. A dull throbbing started to sink all around the violated flesh of his leg.

It was so perfect. He was freed with the edge of the blade. Everything, everything was fixed. No more hurt. Had there been hurt before? There wasn't now. He knew no aches of yesterday, no fears of tomorrow. All he knew was that he wasn't alone. With this he was loved and would never have to suffer by himself again. This was his friend, his lover, his home.

Resting his back against the bathroom door, Sunao cried. He let his tears wash away everything just as the blade had. He allowed his tears to drown him just as his misery would. Because he no longer knew which way was up or down or backwards. He wanted this; he hated this. He couldn't understand anything. He was going to move on from this; he could only ever trust this. He couldn't understand anything.

But as he slumped against the bathroom wall he knew one thing.

It never mattered how many times he thought of stopping. Of just walking out without the blades kiss. Because no matter how hard he tried, he wasn't strong enough.

He belonged to the blade that had fallen to the floor by his side.

~Fin~

Sorry about any grammar errors! I've reread it to make sure there are none but I've been known to miss a few!

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