Hello. Before you read this story, I have to warn you that this is a huge trigger warning. The story is potentially extremely triggering so please do NOT read it if you don't think it's a good plan.

-Kate


A screech. Smashing. "Look out!" "Ahh!"

That was the last thing Kaoru had witnessed. It had all gone black for a few seconds after that- then nothing. Or, at least, that's what Hikaru imagined happened to his younger twin when the left side of the car they were riding in had been crushed.

The remaining twin stood under a gray, heavy sky in front of a gravestone that had been there for less than two weeks.

"Kaoru Hitachiin
1987-2004
Beloved son, grandson, and brother
R.I.P."

That was all the stone said. It didn't do Kaoru's short life justice. He had been so much more than a, "beloved son, grandson, and brother." He had been Hikaru's whole world since they were born.

But now, that world was gone. It had been brought to life along with Hikaru and it had been through absolutely everything with him. And then just like that, it had vanished into thin air. Like it had never been there in the first place.

Hikaru knew it had though. Knew he had been there. Knew he had been alive and, more than that, happy.

The young male sat down on the wet grass, ignoring the dampness that seeped through his trousers. His back hunched and he sighed as he laid the daisies he had brought in front of the black marble that introduced the grave's occupant. Orange hair covered his glistening eyes as his body trembled.

How was he supposed to survive in such a huge, intimidating world without his other half? Kaoru had been as much a part of him as he was a part of Kaoru. On the bright side, now people wouldn't have trouble telling them apart. Though, maybe that wasn't so much of a bright side as it was a less-dark-than-everything-else side.

People hadn't confused him once with his deceased twin at said twin's funeral. Amongst a mass of people and murmured "I'm so sorry for your loss"s, Hikaru had not once been called Kaoru. He may have been happy about that, if it had not been Kaoru's funeral he was attending.

That funeral was hell for him. He didn't cry at all. He couldn't. There was nothing he could do but stand there numbly, the black hole in his chest aching unignorably. Friends, family, people he knew, and people he did not know gave him their condolences and apologies as he watched their feet and heard nothing they said. He couldn't believe that it had happened. His greatest fear had come true; he had to live in a world alone- without his brother.

A single word kept repeating itself in Hikaru's mind: Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. This couldn't be true. He couldn't do this without Kaoru.

The teenager shook his head, sending a few tears running down his cheeks and neck. He couldn't think of that. Not now. Chapped white hands pushed him up from the soggy ground and brushed off his warm clothes. He sauntered to the black car waiting for him and climbed in the back seat, feeling numb and cold.

Apathetically, he watched nothing through the window on the ride back home, if he could even call it that anymore. Without Kaoru, it was so empty, gray, and hard. Hikaru could not think at all anymore. He just felt the darkness inside his chest pull him in. It felt like he was slowly withering into himself.

Upon his arrival at the front doors of the Hitachiin estate, he pushed them open as quietly as he could manage, dropping his coat on the floor carelessly and making his way upstairs. Hikaru collapsed onto his large bed when he reached it. He looked to his left. Nothing interesting. He looked to his right. Just his bathroom.

Just his bathroom. Though, maybe that wasn't just a bathroom. It could be used for many other things besides just bathing. However, that was what he intended to use it for soon. The redhead sat up and stripped his clothes off haphazardly, walking to the bathroom and turning the hot water knob to fill the bathtub.

The male scrutinized himself in the mirror. He hated doing that now. His reflection belonged to Kaoru too and now that he wasn't there, it just wasn't right to let that reflection exist. Hikaru continued to glare at himself in the mirror. Suddenly, he drew his fist back and swung it into the glass, effectively shattering it and slicing his skin badly. It didn't matter. He stepped over the broken glass, bending down to grab a fairly large one on the way over to the, now filled, bathtub.

Hikaru turned the hot water off and sunk into the steamy liquid slowly. He gazed dully at his wrists for a full three minutes. One hand still grasped the shard of glass gently.

The boy nodded to himself silently, closed his eyes, pressed the shard to the skin of his wrists, and bled out.


I am so sorry.