The hot water stings his bruises for a brief, tortuous moment and then he feels it working its way into the sore muscles, loosening the tension, soothing the pale battered skin, and the steam goes to his head and makes his lungs contract. He hurts, all over. Shigure is staring at him suspiciously from across the dinner table and Yuki's hand goes to his bruised cheek - he whispers the rehearsed explanation, not daring to look anyone in the eye. He can't let them see the rest of him, thank heavens his shirt has long sleeves, has a collar. Kakeru looks at him strangely during student council. Does he suspect? He can't know, he can't find out. Yuki sinks deeper into the bath, blinking. There's a dull pain in his stomach and he wonders how big that bruise is going to be. It's his soul that hurts the most, though, this darkness slowly consuming him - he refuses to be broken again - but he is tired, so tired, his trust has been shattered one time too many. He coughs, high and breathlessly, and can't stop crying, can't tell whether the salty wetness on his lips is bathwater or tears or something else. Kakeru slips an arm around him, voice full of concern, and again Yuki recites his excuses but his friend's eyes narrow in disbelief and then Yuki vomits, streaks of red smearing onto the floor, and someone, Kimi maybe, is screaming as he convulses on the floor retching up blood. Kakeru is fumbling with a cell phone, shouting at him to stay awake, a siren sounds outside and vaguely Yuki wishes they would just let him die.