A/N - I think this is my best angst work yet, don't you?

Chapter Two:  Pearly Skin

After an endless dream, in this miserable world
That's right, maybe not using common sense isn't so bad after all
Even with these awkward wings, dyed with images that seem to stay
I'm sure we can fly, on my love

~Translated from Butter-Fly

            Takato's parents knew all too well of their son's transformation from a happy boy to cold, cynical one.  Like every parent, they wished they could do something, anything, to help.  But they couldn't.  Only Takato could help himself, and it was clear to see that he couldn't…or wouldn't. 

            That very day, at breakfast, Takato silently came down.  His parents couldn't help but stare at him.  His skin was so pale, it could pass for milk.  The dark clothes he was wearing accented his skin even more.  Exactly how his hair had paled like it had, his parents were mystified.  It was so light, it was practically white.  His eyes were not bright with the life that should be flowing through.  They were dull. 

            Takato's mother was particularly affected by all of this.  It hurt deeply to see her son behaving like this.  As she watched him silently seat himself, her mind wandered to the many ways Takato was changed.  He kept himself cooped up in his room, and he never went places with his friends anymore.  He was doing wonderfully in school, but he never seemed to enjoy it, and she wasn't even sure if he actually went to school.  

            And then, all of the other strange things.  He seemed to disappear for hours at a time, returning only in the late hours.  He hardly ate a thing, quite a difference from his huge appetite from before.  He was sickly, and always seemed to be weak or sick.  And then, she had been noticing strange wounds on him. 

            Takato was sitting at the table, seemingly without interest in the food his father was cooking.  He was idly playing with his chopsticks, lost in his own world.  Then, his mother saw.  The cuts on his arm.  Takato's mother knew enough to know those weren't accidental cuts.  Nor were they inflicted by someone else.  They were created by Takato, perhaps in suicidal attempts. 

            A quick glance at her husband told her he had seen them too.  "Takato!!!  How did you get those cuts on your arm?"  That seemed to snap him out of his daze, and he stared blankly at his mother.  "Takato!" 

            "Do you really want to know?"  Takato's sudden words surprised her.  Lately, he hadn't even been saying anything, and now, he was asking her something.  If the situation hadn't been so tense, she would've been happy.  She dumbly nodded.  "Okay.  I'll show you."  And he picked up a knife from where it was lying on the table, and in one fluid motion, cut his arm.

            "Takato!"  And suddenly, she slapped him across the face.  In Takato's weak state, she managed to knock him unconscious.  He fell out of his chair and on to the floor.  Her husband gently scooped him up.

            "Gosh, he's light.  Shouldn't he weigh more than fifty pounds?"  Seeing the distressed look in his wife's eyes, he reassured her, "We'll take him to a hospital.  They'll be able to help him."  Takato's mother moved, as in slow motion, for the phone. 

            At the hospital, the doctors were shocked at Takato's state.  He was dangerously underweight, and due to this, his internal organs were very weak.  Seeing the many wounds he had, the doctors were able to quickly conclude Takato was very suicidal.  But it was his pale features that really shocked them.  Never had they seen anyone with skin so pale, nor hair so light. 

            "--I swear, I don't hurt him!  He's been hurting himself!"  Takato's mother cried as she heard the news.  "I want to stop him, but I can't." 

            "That's understandable.  Takato will be fine after a few weeks in intensive care.  But something besides his health bothers me."  The doctor fidgeted for a little while.  How could he break this news gently to the worried two in front of him?  "Well, we have a doctor here quite talented in psychology.  He was studying Takato--he was awake for a little while--and he noted some strange things about Takato." 

            Mrs. Matsuda grabbed the doctor's hand.  "Please, please tell me what's wrong with him?  I'd do anything to help him!" 

            The doctor sighed.  "Alright.  Takato's behavior was very odd when he was with the doctors.  He was jumpy, he didn't seem to trust any of them, and he seemed to be afraid.  And he didn't even flinch when they began giving him injections and such.  The doctor managed to get him alone for a little while, and, well, he concluded… Well, I'll just give it to you straight.  Some traumatic experience in Takato's life has affected him in a bad way.  We're guessing it involved a lot of pain, and that's why Takato can stand much of the pain of the shots.  It also mentally affected Takato greatly… We have no idea how much damage that could've caused.  That could be why he's suicidal." 

            For a few seconds, neither of the Matsuda's were able to speak.  Finally, Mr. Matsuda found his voice.  "So you mean, Takato is, well, psychologically unstable?"  The doctor nodded.  "Is there any way to help him?" 

            And then, the fatal word came.  "No."