『あなたのための出血 — Bleeding For You』
After his defeat in the battle royale, Suoh had seemed to come to his senses. To everyone, he seemed mentally stable. He had mended his friendship with Fubuki and all seemed well. And yet, something still disturbed Suoh. It pestered him in the back of his mind. It was like a nagging voice, berating him for everything that has come to pass. From the day he met Fubuki and gave him advice, they seemed inseparable. They were best friends; always helping each other, training together, celebrating together. But somewhere along their time together, he felt threatened by his friend's progress.
Upon obtaining Hell Salamander, something inside him seemed to change. It was like soft pink sakura petals had fallen and wilted, blossoming back into a deep red rage. His golden eyes were fixated on the goal of proving his strength above Fubuki... above Lui... above everyone. To surpass and conquer. But anyone who knew Suoh prior to his possession of Hell Salamander, would know that he'd never dream of damaging Fubuki's pride. And now that he was supposedly free of the possession, everyone felt less on edge. Well, everyone except Suoh himself.
Sitting in front of a group of flower pots, he adjusted them to an aesthetic view. Skillfully wielding sharp-bladed scissors to cut away any wilted blossoms and discolored stems. His golden gaze was trained on the scissor blades as a dying crimson rose came into view.*SNIP!* The fading flower had fallen to the wooden flooring, crumbling reddish petals scattering among the surface. The snowy-haired Blader glanced down at the dismantled flower's dispersed petals. Somehow the dim red of the dried and curling petals seemed beautiful. It was oddly aesthetic to look at. His gaze trailed over to his pale, exposed arms. His subtly raised veins, barely visible beneath his skin, looked strangely like incorrectly pigmented vines. They were vines that could be sliced to make him a perfected personification of an ikebana arrangement. Of course, he had better taste than to stain the pristine wooden floor with his blood. Slowly rising to a stand, he quietly shuffled to his personal bathroom, scissors in hand.
Opening the door he looked at himself in the mirror. This action seemed to invite the nagging voices back to haunt his mind again.
[Make sure there's enough to represent every moment you regret.]
His eyes had fluttered closed, in the presence of his reflection. Despite that fact, he could see everything so clearly. Separating the blades of the scissors, he held the sharp metal to his right wrist; he wouldn't dare damage his dominant arm.
[You'll be more beautiful after taking this punishment. Just think of the red as flowers blooming forth from within you~]
No matter how ridiculous the words being produced were, the scissors remained in place. Grasping one sink handle, he turned it to run water from the faucet. After letting the transparent liquid flow for another moment, he held the chosen arm over the edge of the sink. Finally willing himself to press the blade further into his skin, he dragged it across his wrist. A fresh wound had been made and blood surfaced to his arm. Small tears stung at his eyes, but he managed to keep his emotions in-check.
It stung at first, but then the area just felt numb. He moved the scissor blade a bit higher and repeated the action. Another cut made, more blood spilled. A third slice and he was laughing. Nothing was funny about this. But somehow, he found himself laughing uncontrollably. This had gone on for a while, laughter unceasing until the scissors reach the crease of his arm. His entire forearm was covered in blood. He wiped the lingering tears of hilarity from his eyes, opening them to appreciate the outcome of his masterpiece. He carefully ran his left index finger over the bloody scars, collecting the scarlet droplets together. Then he pressed that same blood-coated finger to the surface of the mirror. In the most elegant of manners, he spelled out his best friend's name on the reflective surface.
~FUBUKI SUMIE~
The boy whom he treasured for so long.
Eventually, he rinsed away the blood from his scissors and skin, medicating the wounds. Wrapping his entire forearm in sanitary bandages, he made a mental note to wear a matching right gauntlet to casually cover the aftermath of this punishment. After making sure no blood decorated any area of the bathroom, he left the bathroom and stored away his scissors. Carefully sliding on his coat and two gauntlets, he left the house for a stroll... and an ominous smile present across his lips.
"Don't worry, darling. Everything may not be alright now, but I'll fix it... Even if it means bleeding for you."