Akashi woke with a start.
His back was aching from the hard, cold marble floor. He clambered up to stand, using the door as support. He walked further into the bathroom, regarding the mirror as he assessed the damage.
His hair was a matted mop, edges sticking out like needles in a pincushion. His lips were bleeding from the unyielding biting Akashi hadn't even realized he'd done. But the worst were his eyes - they were swollen, red, and covered in bruises.
Stripping and stepping into the shower, he hit the knob, jerking as jets of hot water seemed to burn his skin; his soul. The instant the first drop of hot water touched him, he broke, cool tears streaming down his cheeks once again. His eyes stung; the salty tears caused his sensitive skin to hurt.
Why did he lose? How? The loss was shock enough, but his father's anger?
His thoughts rose like the hot, scorching steam from the shower, recalling his father's words -
"Weak."
"...rot…"
He tensed, remembering what his father had said.
"No more basketball."
Basketball was his one single joy. He loved it - the satisfaction in a well-planned attack, an iron defence, winning.
But he hadn't won.
He'd lost.
He was a failure. And now the thing he enjoyed most had been ripped from his grasp.
But there were no more feelings; the unexplainable balloon of emotions he felt last night had vanished, he felt nothing - empty.
He stepped out of the shower and looked at his reflection again. Angry red blotches peppered his skin from the heat of the water. In several areas, his skin was so raw that even the slightest provocation like wrapping a towel around him, left his skin stinging.
He liked the stinging, the constant pain. It made the world before him vanish for the few painful seconds. Then the pain subsided, and Akashi was once again left, empty.
His hand moved on its own, tracing the red splotches on his neck and dug in. He clenched his teeth, the pain was so blinding - so sharp - it felt amazing; almost sinful. His eyes closed he pressed deeper, escaping the world around him and concentrating on the pain.
His other hand moved without instruction, pressing, digging, rubbing his skin till it ripped. The satisfaction of the cut made him gasp and he searched for more skin to fall prey to his actions.
He was done, eyes open staring at the sight before him. Red dots and lines speckled his body. There was blood, prominently around his shoulders and neck that was making its way down his torso. He watched, entranced, as his blood rolled down his skin. But then he jerked his gaze away. It was as if he couldn't bear to see the near pathetic sight anymore as a streak of shame flashed through him. But all other feelings were overcome by the pain - the sweet, pleasurable pain.
He was in control again, and as long as he could control this pain, he would survive. It didn't matter if he was worthless, as long as he had control.
Authors Note:
Hey guys! Another short chapter (edited), I think I'll be able to update it at least 2 times a week. Maybe more. Please comment, share and like!