Standard Disclaimers Apply.
The magenta haired tensai didn't flinch as the glinting silver drew the newest red line across his wrist. Marui Bunta didn't grimace as he pulled the wrist band over the slowly trickling trail of blood. His expression didn't change as he walked out the door.
No one ever asked. They all had no idea. Even Jackal Kuwahara, his close friend and doubles partner, he never suspected a thing. On the court he was the same hyperactive player as always. He still popped his apple-flavored gum and gave the same smug smirk.
That was his mask. His happy go lucky, not a care in the world mask. He was just so good at faking now.
It was a time to go down in record books; someone was fooling Niou Masaharu, the famed Trickster of Rikkai Daigaku Fuzoku. Marui would often scoff at the thought. The Tensai could play the Trickster.
If only they knew. They could help him out of his self inflicted hell. He knew he needed help but he couldn't stop himself. It had become an obsession. Watching the blood flow, the beautiful ruby color, somehow relieved all the stress of winning, grades, and life in general.
This depression that caught him just refused to let go.
They were his teammates, weren't they? They were supposed to be his closest friends. Why didn't they see it? Why didn't Jackal see it? His partner, who was supposed to know him like the back of his hand, couldn't tell that he was dying inside. The signs were there damn it! They fucking lost. They lost to Niou and Yagyuu. Marui and Jackal were Doubles 1 for a reason, because they didn't lose.
Jackal just shrugged the whole thing off and told him that everyone has an off day. An off day? That was the first time Niou and Yagyuu had ever beaten them, and he blamed it on an off-day? Marui thought Jackal should have slapped him upside the head and asked him what the hell was wrong.
"Don't worry Marui. Everyone has an off day," Jackal pats his back," we'll go back to our winning streak the next time."
Had it been Jackal's fault Marui would have shouted, "What the hell happened to the Iron Wall?"
Jackal had basically pretended that losing wasn't a problem. Winning was everything now; they had to secure their third consecutive championship. They had to be at their best. They had to win.
Marui walked in the gate to the tennis court. Jackal looked up as he neared, and Marui wondered briefly if he had seen his face just before he put up his mask.
"Oi! Is Kirihara last again? That boy will never learn," Marui grinned.
Marui saw his partner's eyes narrow slightly, but he turned and walked to the locker room pretending not to notice.
He heard the footsteps following him.
"Hey! Marui, you ok?" Jackal asked from behind him.
When he didn't respond Jackal reached out to grab his wrist, and Marui just kept walking. The band slipped off in Jackal's grasp. The tensai froze. He could already picture his friend's face in his mind, his gaze burned into his wrist.
Jackal blanched at the sight of angry red lines on his partner's arm. One was still dripping. How could he play tennis like this?
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
In the deathly silence Jackal could hear the blood hit the ground. He opened his mouth but no words came out. That was when Marui finally turned to face him.
The mask was gone. To Jackal it was like looking upon a stranger. Where were the sparkling eyes, the grin, and happy expression? They were gone. They were replaced with dead, dull eyes and a blank face.
Marui wonder why Jackal was silent. His friend should be saying something, doing something. He should be trying to help him! Didn't he care?
Jackal never said a word, he couldn't speak.
His best friend didn't even care. What was wrong with him? No one could help him now.
Marui never said a word, he just walked away.
Marui stared at the glinting silver blade. It made such a beautiful contrast against the shining ruby of his blood.
That was the night the tensai cut too deep.