Ichigo slowly lifted his head back up, sighing as he got out of his seat; Kon's deep red eyes gazed up with a quirked brow. "Can I have your lunch?"
"Whatever," he grumbled, pushing the tray over to the golden haired boy with his right hand, the twelve year old looking teen took it and smiled brightly, "I'm going to the dorm..."
That was directed to Hichigo, who stood as well, his chair's legs screeching on the ground. Nodding, he turned and began to walk off, yet Hisagi stood, grabbing his collar from the back, receiving a surprised yelp. Veering over his shoulder, he blinked those golden-black eyes, noticing that Renji and Ichigo were talking, a nod coming from Ichigo as both walked off towards their room.
"What the hell?! Lemme go!" he shouted, gnawing on his lower lip once the dark haired teenager frowned at him, jabbing his thumb towards the leaving forms.
"Go with them," he spoke in a cold tone, which was demanding.
"Damn bastard," the albino muttered once he ran to catch up with the walking forms.
Catching up, he panted, shoving his hands into his pockets, frowning deeply as they walked up the stairs, traveling slowly towards the newcomers' room. The redhead looked over at the white haired Shirosaki, harsh reddish-brown eyes glistening in the bright lights hanging over their heads.
"What're you guys in for?"
Both looked at him with different expressions. The young Shirosaki's was annoyed, the bright haired Kurosaki's was simply blank, eyes hazed over, reminding himself for why he was truly here.
"Cuttin'," the albino frowned, sounding like he had been poked a zillion times and he was ready to chop the owner's finger off, "but 'ey...my family's fucked up, that's a good enough reason,"
"How 'bout you?" the tattooed figure asked, turning his head to Ichigo's direction, seeing that he shoved his hands into his back pockets, fingers wrapping around the knife, pondering on whether it would be able to slice through flesh since it wasn't at all that sharp.
A few moments later, he shrugged. "Same thing...but my father brought me here to keep my sisters from seeing me go 'insane'."
He sucked in air through clenched teeth, parted pale lips, feeling that his middle finger was slightly punctured, a small droplet of blood slithering down his limb. His cheeks slightly flushed, pleasure creeping up his spine as the red haired Abarai turned his attention forward, stopping once they finally reached the two boys' room.
"I'll tell you your schedules tomorrow, and..." he spoke, tuning and walking away until he was five feet away, looking over his shoulder, "try not to do what wound you up here, otherwise you'll end up in the infirmary and even worse...where the real loonies are. These are the minors, and once you go in, you'll never come out."
Both nodded, the orange haired teen swallowing a lump in his throat as Hichigo released held air he never realized he was holding.
Walking into their room, Hichigo shut the large metal door with his foot, no window to peer through whatsoever. Walking over to his bunk, the white haired fifteen year old grabbed the ledge of his bed, yanking himself up with a huff. Swinging a leg over the ledge and hoisting himself up. It was like a regular room, closet, two boxes by the window, nametags taped on the lid. The one to the right was Ichigo's and the left was his.
The vibrant haired teen slowly sat down, reaching into his back pocket, pulling out the plastic knife. Almost purring at the thought of the pain he began to love. Yet, what he loved most was the blood he lapped up as it rose from the wounded epidermis.
Hearing the rustling below him, Hichigo slid the sunglasses off, placing them once again on the pillow, sneaking over to the right of himself, at the foot of the top bunk, lowering his head so he could see what his roommate was up to.
Seeing a plastic replica of silverware, he watched with curious eyes as the orange haired teen drowned out the world, slicing his flesh. Grinning once he saw a red, tiny, thin line of thick red blood suffice. Lowering his head, his pink tongue slid out, lapping up the blood, the sweet taste he was addicted to overriding his senses and making him moan out in pleasure in a low tone.
Hearing this made an arousing shudder bolt up the young Shirosaki's spine.
Lowering his hand and raising his head, Ichigo licked his lips, tinting them in a red, luscious, color. Deepening his lust for the taste ever more. But then he plopped himself onto his back, shutting his eyes as his left hand released the blade, cradling his right wrist to his chest.
It's too addicting...too fascinating...
Hichigo licked his dry lips, eyeing the blood. Grinning as he lifted his head and turned, crawling to the head of the bed, picking up the black sunglasses, placing them on a ledge that was super-glued there. Placing his head on the pillow, facing the wall as a sick smirk spread across his handsome features, closing his golden-black eyes as he listened to the orange haired teen's panting.
But we'll get caught eventually, The white haired boy smirked each and every single time he hovered the blade over his forearm, his step-mother gone off on some sort of business she never bothered to mention. Pressing it ever so harshly against his skin, slitting the cold skin, warm steaming blood oozing out as he giggled in a boyish, childish way, like he did not know that this was wrong. That he shouldn't be doing this. All he knew was that he felt so alive when he did it. It was occasional when he felt so dead, then became more frequent, until it became a habit. But one night while he was cutting his flesh, his step-mother walked in with her usual cheery hello, only to be greeted by silence, then began to search until the site of a bleeding little child in the bathroom tub appeared before her eyes. Confused and shocked, seeing the blade on the ground as the pure white skin turned almost a very dull gray, death creeping ever closer. If only she hadn't arrived.
The color crimson was never a problem, the only problem was was that he adored the color of crimson, relishing in the deep red shade. Dark and yet so beautiful.
Golden-black eyes cracked open, seeing the moonlight peer through the open blinds. Lifting his head, he turned to see his roommate sitting on his box, duffel bag and backpack put away and his right elbow resting on the ledge to the window sill, barred up because of suicide-attempters that were staying in the facility.
The cut from earlier was a very dim color of peach, yet could easily pass as if he was very itchy and needed to scratch that site badly.
Almost leaping off his bunk, the snow white haired boy walked over to the orange haired figure, sitting down across from him as those brown eyes stared out the window, staring out at the starless sky.
"Have a nightmare?"
Hichigo blinked, eyes wide as they drifted towards the speaker, seeing that Ichigo was looking at him with a concerned expression, but not too concerned, just curious.
"Nah...just a memory I wanted to forget," he frowned, looking down on the ground to see the guy everyone called 'Hat-and-Clogs' walk towards his car, "She shouldn't have come home so early..." he muttered.
But why did she? he thought while chewing on his upper lip. Was it just a coincidence?