Stitch a smile for me

AN: When you're bored… you write depressing-ish stuff. An evidence is this (Sorry AUF, you gotta wait). AU.

EDITED: 04-15-16

Summary: Hello. I am Hiyori Iki. After a tragedy befell our family, I never thought I could smile again… well not until he took my hand into his sweaty ones that is. AU

Disclaimer: I do not own Noragami and that wonderful quote of Virginia Woolf

Hiyori- 15 years old

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Chapter 0: The Flashback

When you consider things like the stars, our affairs don't seem to matter much, do they?

I thought, holding a dull kitchen knife in my hands. Weighing the thing on my pale hands. Can I do it today? Could I? Will I? Sweat was trickling down my face and each breath I took was heavy. Just a little push and I would finally be free. Just a little more and I wouldn't have to remember anything about everything. Again, the questions pass my head. It's going to be easy, I just have to stab myself on the head and, Hiyori goes bye-bye. Can I? Will I? It was hard when memories rush to my head and remind me why I still need to stay. It makes it even harder when there are thousands of melancholic thoughts attached with the objects in this room. Like that dreamcatcher, the snow globe, my pink scarf. They were all bought for me by my parents… and yet I had the gall to betray them. I curse and forced myself to grip on the handle roughly, positioning it right above the heart. I bite my lip, and slowly inch the dull blade forward. My skin tingled the second the cold metal touched it, sending yet another wave of painful memories. I can do this, I will do it. This is the day where Hiyori will finally close the curtains. No more doubts. I gripped at the handle and carefully thrust it in. A whimper escaped my lips, I used my other hand to support my weight on the floor. I could taste a metallic liquid, it slowly dripped down my lip, staining my white shirt. Ugh, why did I decide to wear a white shirt anyway? My clothes could've been used by other people. Like maybe that little girl I met at the slums. What was her name again? Hanami? Hanabi? Looking back I wasn't even that much good at remembering names, even that great ice cream parlor near the grocery shop. Wait, I clutch my head, momentarily letting go of the knife, why am I even thinking about these random things. Pull yourself together, let your last thoughts be noble at least. But I knew I wasn't noble, so naturally, my thoughts would be shitty. Shitty life, shitty personality, shitty Hiyori. I scoffed, well, after this none of that'll even matter anymore. Maybe it will, if the circumstances were different. I laughed bitterly and picked my knife up again… Anyway, I exhaled. Good bye stinking world and hello to hell! I thought, positioning the knife once again. I'm ready! I pull my hand back, to gain momentum and...

CRASH!

I yelped and dropped the knife on the floor. Now, who could've dropped those- I stopped. Of course, it was mom… How could I forget that she was here when she was one of the reasons I wanted to leave… or stay. I sat there for a moment. Remembering her disheveled and wrecked state. The thought, once again, bringing doubts in my head. I bite my lip and furrow my brows. Do I really want this? I stare at a photo of my family back when everything was still rainbows and sunshine. Can I leave her? No, I couldn't. But that wasn't the real question now is it? It's…

Does she want me to stay?

Will she still want me when I…. I clutch my chest, my eyes on the brink of tears. It pains me to remember what I did. It's unforgivable. If mom knew what really happened, she would despise me more. She'd be more broken than how she is now. She loved me then… She loved me and father and yet, the dumb me comes waltzing in and ruins the whole picture. I glared at the floor and realized I was already crying. The wooden floor was already stained by my teardrops and blood. I sniff and wipe the liquid from my eyes. Damn these tears. I should die for inflicting pain on everybody. I should die for being so careless. I should die for being the one who murdered my own father….

Yes, I'm the reason why my father's dead. I'm a murderer. And… I should pay for it. The dam then broke, I couldn't stop the torrent of awful thoughts that flooded my mind nor could I stop my tears, my shoulders won't stop shaking. If only I was stronger.

"Aaaah!" I bit my fist to prevent my screams from getting any louder.

"Murderer. Murderer. Murderer. I'm a murderer" For a second, I felt like I was insane. Maybe I was on the brink of sanity. Here I was, hugging myself on the floor, rocking back and forth, a knife on my side. If anybody could see me now, they'd be shaking their heads and ask what I too needed an answer in.

What happened?

I murdered my father, that's what. It felt like I was drowning, my lungs gasping for air. I needed the escape and ending myself is the answer. In fact it's the answer to everything. With this I can pay the price for killing a loved one. I needed someone to hold me again, I needed my parents, my FATHER! But he's dead and it's all because of me. And now that I'm trying to make everything alright again by ridding of myself, I couldn't because I remember my mom. Some being must be watching and preventing me from doing this… well go away! Why can't you just let me die in peace?! Is that also too much to ask for? I pound on the floor, tears continuing to spill from my eyes. My shoulders shake and my nails create wounds on my arms. Maybe there's an invisible force laughing at how pathetic I was, even at committing suicide!

"Please… please." I didn't know what I was begging for at this point, there's just so much wrong in my life. "Please..." In the middle of my fit, I started to hum a song, it was the song mom used to sing for me, especially when I had nightmares. I wish the song still had its magic, to make everything all better after a bad dream.

So as I continued to hum to myself, tears cascading down my cheeks, I find myself succumbing into a dreamless sleep. Hoping that when I wake up, everything'll be better.

:::

I woke up to puffy eyes and dark surroundings. Ugh, what was I doing again? I look around me and my eyes land on the blood stains. Oh, that's right, I tried to kill myself. I ran my hands through my hair, my shoulders slightly relaxing at the gesture. Even after that sleep everything still wasn't ok. I stood up and grabbed at the nearest furniture for support. My eyes stray to my reflection in the mirror. Pale and lifeless… I turned away, focusing instead on the door. My hands shakily open it, afraid of what I might see. I gulp and glance at the knife along with the dried blood on the floor. Remembering, again, my failed attempt at suicide. Guess today's not the day. I sigh and whisper,

"Tomorrow, maybe tomorrow."