Disclaimer: I do not own HP or KnB.

Trigger Warnings. Toxic thinking, intrusive thoughts, self harm, abuse, injuries, and mental illness. Out of the first ten chapters, this is definitely the darkest. If you don't want to read it for fear that it will harm you in some way, contact me and I will summarize if for you.

If you'd like me to add any trigger warnings, feel free to leave a comment on here or AO3 or message me on my tumblr, snowlikestardust. For that matter, if you'd like to talk to me at all, you can do that too! I'm way more friendly than my writing might lead you to believe.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," Katsa admitted.

"That's okay," Sora said. "I'm here to teach you."

Katsa examined her face carefully in the mirror, the first time she had done that in years. She had to admit, she didn't like what she saw.

"Makeup is practice, plain and simple. You'll get better at it with time," he told her.

"And it is going to be a long, bumpy road to get there."

"It'll be worth it though. I am going to have you dressing stylishly and having makeup skills that'll make the whole room jealous."

Katsa was looking forward to that. Meeting society's expectations of young girls was one step closer to being perfect.

(Meeting society's expectations shouldn't have mattered. Makeup was for girls' own enjoyment, and other people's opinions shouldn't matter. Whether a girl wore makeup or not was up to her, not anyone else. Katsa did not have to meet anyone's expectations, not even her own. Life wasn't about making the cut. It was about living.)

"Ugh," Katsa said. "My face looks even worse than usual."

"I don't like the insinuation that your face is normally bad."

Katsa rolled her eyes and focused on her eyeliner. When she set it down, she had to try five times to set it down with all sides hitting the table at once. Every time it didn't work, her breath quickened. She counted (onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten) ten times.

She felt exhausted. Physically, because she was running on fumes and had been practicing in a very intense manner. Mentally, because she had been putting great focus into her studies, both magical and muggle. Emotionally, because people in general were exhausting and she had had a lot of people interaction lately.

She just wanted to take a cue from Sleeping Beauty and sleep for a hundred years. If only she had a curse to put her under instead of having to lie awake for hours before getting only a couple minutes of sleep.

Katsa didn't particularly enjoy makeup or dressing up, but she could tell that it made Sora happy to teach her. So, she put up with it.

In the future, Katsa would only wear makeup or put effort into her clothes when there was a special occasion. In those moments, she'd forget all of her skills anyway and have to ask either Sora or Sirius for help. Katsa didn't think about the future though, because she had a hard-enough time thinking about the present. It was weird to think about her future when she didn't want one.

It was a strange parallel. Sora taught Katsa basketball, he helped her with her homework, he braided her hair. Now he was teaching her about the things society taught young girls they needed to know.

Katsa was really lucky to have Sora. In her mind, she didn't deserve him. If she hadn't met him… she probably would have broken down a long time ago.

It was snowing in the fall, and Katsa couldn't feel a thing.

She was sitting down on a bench at an outside basketball court. She had promised Aomine that she would meet up with him to play a one-on-one.

Her clothes were soaked. She had arrived an hour early, and the snow had long since soaked into her basketball shorts and athletic shirt.

She didn't feel cold. She just felt numb. Not the kind of numb that came from being out in the cold, but the kind of numb that had permeated her body for weeks.

Loki sat by her side, his head in her lap. Katsa absently played with his ears. The snow wasn't sticking, but she was sure if it did Loki would blend right in.

Katsa had slowed down in her drills, so Coach punished Kise. Katsa didn't see what happened, but she knew that Kise had shied away from touch lately. She hated herself for making it worse.

She hadn't been able to successfully cast the summoning charm yesterday. She had tried and tried but she hadn't been able to. Sirius said not to worry about it, that it was a hard charm. Didn't make her feel any better.

Katsa held up her hand and looked at it carefully. Her fingers were a little blue. That was weird. She didn't' feel particularly chilly. She tapped her fingers against her thumb, starting at the pinky and moving inward, then back again. She tried to get a rhythm going, but she kept doing uneven taps on each finger when she tried to go too fast.

Katsa dropped her hand, then immediately raised it again to run a hand through her hair. It had been a bad week. A bad month, really.

"Katsa?" a concerned voice shouted. She identified it as Aomine. "What are you doing?"

He came into view. He wasn't dressed for basketball, Katsa noticed. He had jeans and a jacket on. "I was waiting for you? Why aren't you dressed to play? Do you not want to anymore?"

Aomine looked terrified. He quickly took his jacket off and put it around her shoulders. "It's freezing out. Why are you wearing that? Are you trying to kill yourself?"

That seemed like an odd series of sentences to Katsa. She didn't feel cold at all, she was wearing clothes appropriate for basketball, and she wasn't quite to the point of killing herself. She told Aomine the first two points.

A series of emotions flitted across Aomine's face, landing on concerned. "It's snowing out, Potter. It's cold."

Katsa didn't like making her friends worried. "I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong? I didn't mean to? Please don't be mad."

Aomine looked exasperated. He guided her hands into the arm holes of his jacket and zipped it up. "I'm not mad. I'm just worried."

Katsa didn't understand. She told Aomine so.

"Look," he said, dragging his hand down his face. "You can't sit out in the snow like that in those kinds of clothes. It's not safe."

"But I don't feel cold."

"Just because you don't feel cold doesn't mean it's not freezing. You have to look at your surroundings. If you're outside when it's snowing, you need to be wearing real pants and a jacket."

Katsa didn't understand, but she could see she was making Aomine stressed. "Okay."

"Okay," Aomine said. "Okay. How about we stop by magi burger, get something to eat? That way you can warm up."

Katsa didn't want to eat, and she didn't think she needed to warm up. But she was past her limit of protesting, so she simply nodded and grabbed Loki's leash.

She messed up again, and now her friend was worried. It was a bad day.

Watching Seijuro demolish his opponents was a lot more fun when she wasn't the one being demolished.

Case in point: Katsa had been watching Seijuro and Shintaro play shogi against each other for hours. Seijuro won every time. It was almost amusing enough to make her feel something.

They had both been furious when they found out about the snow incident (because of course Aomine told them). The whole team had insisted that someone walk her home every night so that she didn't decide to find a ditch and let herself freeze to death while lying in it.

She still didn't see what the big deal was. She was fine. For all the other's fussing, she came out perfectly fine (or as fine as she ever was nowadays).

She was just glad they didn't tell Sirius. If her friends had a problem with her actions, then there was a good chance Sirius would freak out about it too.

"It seems you have beat me again," Shintaro said, and the words echoed in her mind until she let her tongue move in the way it would if she said it.

"Indeed," Seijuro said. "But it was a good game."

Katsa tongued the words "good game" in her mouth several times.

"Do you want to play Katsa?" Shintaro asked, looking at her. She startled and tensed up.

"No thanks. I'm good."

Both looked worried. Katsa wondered why. "If you're sure," Seijuro said. Katsa nodded, and they reluctantly took their eyes off her. She let herself relax.

She zoned out, her eyes fixated on the wall across from her. She only came to when a hand touched her shoulder. She flinched, then blinked into focus.

"It's time to go, Katsa," Seijuro said. She nodded and stood up. Neither touched her as the moved out, but they hovered on either side of her. Katsa felt simultaneously claustrophobic and comforted.

It hurt to move. She had run for hours the day before under Coach's instruction. You would think that it would get easier to run for so long, but it didn't. Katsa figured it must be a sign that she wasn't strong enough, not yet.

She had to work harder. She would work harder. She'd be better. She wouldn't be a disappointment much longer.

(She wouldn't be much of anything much longer. At least, in her eyes. In reality, she was always something, she was always enough. That was one thing that would never go away.)

Japan's Junior High Basketball Nationals. A tournament where the country's best thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen-year-olds come together to fight for victory.

Last year, Teiko Junior High brought home gold with an all-first-year team, something that had never been done before.

Since then, Teiko had interchanged a few players, devised new playing strategies, and amped up the harshness of the punishments. There was one thing, however that hadn't changed.

Teiko was Ever Victorious. Losing wasn't an option.

The tournament was stretched out for a week with nonstop games. To win, a team had to play dozens of games in a row.

Katsa knew this was her chance. If she pushed herself, if she succeeded, maybe, just maybe, she could feel something. If she proved that she deserved it, it was possible her emotions would come back.

"I think you all understand what will happen if you lose," Coach told them. Katsa focused her eyes somewhere a little to the left of his head. It was right before the game, and the starters were huddled around the coach. "If you lose, everyone who played in the game is off the team."

Katsa closed her eyes, and felt someone brush against her shoulder.

"If you make any mistakes," Shirogane said. "You will be staying after practice for some one-on-one time."

Katsa heard someone exhale deeply.

"What are we?" Coach asked.

"Every Victorious," the team echoed in unison. Katsa opened her eyes.

It was time to win.

Teiko won their first three days, and they were done for the day. Katsa was returning from where she changed in the bathroom.

People stared as she walked by. They recognized her Teiko jacket, and perhaps recognized her from the games as well. She played in all of them, some for longer than others.

"…see her? She's…"

"…Potter Katsa. She's the fastest on the team…"

"…horrible people, the lot of them. They…"

"…think it's okay to look down on us…"

"…monsters…"

"…Generation of Miracles…"

The whispers echoed in Katsa's head, leaving her brain cluttered and useless. Her breathing quickened.

Monster. They called her and her friends. Miracles.

They just wanted to play basketball. Why did everyone else have to make it out as something more? They were regular middle schoolers, having fun playing the sport they loved.

Katsa walked past the whispers, she ignored the heavy feeling in her heart. She joined her friends, her monsters, her miracles, and she gave them a smile as fake as the flavored candy Murasakibara gave her when he was in a good mood.

She returned home that night, and she kissed Sirius on the cheek. She had Sora over for dinner, and she took Loki on a walk. She sat up late into the night and thought about the razor in the shower. She took a shower in the morning, and turned the temperature up so hot that she could almost feel it.

She wondered if she was a monster. She didn't think she was. Being a monster would mean being something, and she was nothing at all.

(She didn't even consider if she was a miracle or not. The thought never even crossed her mind.)

She was burning.

She had played in every game. It was the fourth day, they were eleven games in.

"Are you doing all right, Katsa?" Shintaro asked. "Not that I care."

Katsa blinked, hard. "Yeah. I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"You're shaking," Kise said. Katsa turned to look at him. She hadn't realized the others were listening.

Katsa lifted her hand. She was shaking. "Huh," she said.

"Huh," Seijuro parroted. "Are you good to play this next game?"

"Of course. I've played just as much as you all have."

"And you've been having talks with Coach Shirogane twice as much as we all have. It's okay to take a break for one game. You can sit this one out."

Katsa straightened her back and forced a smile. "No need. I'm fine."

She wasn't fine. She was on fire. But she couldn't let it show.

Losing wasn't an option.

Coach came in before any of the others could protest, and everyone switched into game mode. Katsa allowed herself a compulsion (digging the creases of her fingers into the edge of the bench so that they fit perfectly) before standing with the others.

As she stood, a short wave of dizziness overtook her, but it was gone in a heartbeat. She shook it off and exited the locker room.

She could feel her heartbeat like it was someone banging a bass drum as loudly as they could right in her ear. Her breathing rattled in her chest, and sometimes she forgot how to exhale.

"The starters for first quarter are

(Katsa was pressed against the wall and Coach was coming closer. There was anger in his eyes and the promise of pain in his fists. Katsa tried to walk backward but there was nowhere to run. She felt his hands grab onto her hair, she was begging, she couldn't feel anything but pain—)

Potter, Midorima, Aomine, Murasakibara, and Kuroko."

Katsa went out to the court next to her miracles. The harsh gym lighting spiked a knife into her skull.

Murasakibara jumped for the ball. He batted it to Katsa, and she ran.

She felt the pounding of feet as everyone on court approached the net. Katsa dodged and weaved around her opponents.

"Potter, I'm

(She was alone in the house. Her wrists ached the same way her soul did when she didn't do her compulsions. Doing what it told her to do always made it better. Why not just try?)

open."

Katsa's eyes darted to Aomine, and she passed to him. The other team's attention shifted to him as he scored. Defense. Murasakibara had the inside covered, she just needed to focus on stealing back the ball.

"C'mon, let's get

(She took the knife and traced it over her skin. She tapped it, one, two, three, and rested the flat part of it so it lined up with her arm. She didn't press down, because that would only bring bad things. But she wanted to, so, so bad.)

on defense!"

Katsa waited for the right moment, then grabbed the ball from behind. She passed to Kuroko, who directed the ball to Shintaro, who made a three.

"Alright, nice pass Katsa."

Someone patted Katsa on the back as they passed by. The touch jolted her out of her thoughts, and she flinched. She hoped no one noticed.

The game was a blur from there. There was passing and shooting and picks and running. Katsa didn't realize the first quarter ended until someone pushed her down onto the bench.

"Katsa? Can

(She examined herself in the mirror. She eyed the dark bruises making a dark blob over her side. She looked at the rest of her body. She was so ugly.)

you hear me? Katsa?"

Katsa startled back to reality. Seijuro kneeled in front of her.

"Y-yeah," Katsa gasped. "Sorry, just zoned out."

"Are you okay to keep playing?" Aomine asked. Coach spoke before she could reply.

"Of course, she's okay to play. Potter, you're staying in. Akashi, you're switching with Kuroko. The rest of you stay in."

Katsa took a deep breath. She tapped her fingers (left pinky, left ring, left middle, left pointer, left thumb, right thumb, right pointer, right middle, right ring, right thumb, back across) and scrunched her toes (one, two, three). She stood up, and the second quarter began.

"Potter," Coach called. Katsa hung back while the other four players went to court. "You can zone out all you like as long as you don't mess up. If you make a mistake because your head is in the clouds, then you're off the team. Do you understand?"

("Don't tell anyone," he told her. "If anyone sees them, you got these bruises playing streetball. Do you understand?")

"I understand," Katsa said.

The other team started with the ball. Katsa was suddenly struck with the thought that she had no idea who they were playing.

The minutes counted down. Katsa couldn't feel the passage of time. The only way she knew they were moving forward at all was the scoreboard.

"Katsa, pass

(She was in the shower, and the water was searing hot. She had a knife in her hand, and an expanse of open skin just waiting to be marked. She put the knife to her skin and she pushed and there was blood and—)

it over here."

She could feel the sweat dripping down her back. She passed the ball.

She exhaled out, and let her eyes close for the briefest moment. Then she opened them, and she was back in the game.

The sound washed over her. It was simultaneously too loud and barely hearable.

The ball was in her hands. The basket was in front of her. She jumped up, and the ball left her hand. She watched the ball approach the basket, but then she was landing and there was something wrong and she was falling and—

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Katsa? Katsa can

("Don't tell anyone. You hear me? You don't tell anyone.")

you hear me? Katsa?"

She was in pain, Katsa realized. This was what pain felt like. Katsa didn't like it as much as she had thought she would.

She realized her eyes were closed, and she opened them. She was facing the ceiling. That was weird. When did she get on her back?

There were faces above her. They blurred together until there was just colorful blobs.

"Kid, I need you to

(Kise was sitting on her bed. There was a makeup container in between them. "You do it like this," he said, demonstrating. "It hides the bruises perfectly.")

tell me where it hurts."

Someone was screaming. Katsa wished they would stop.

"Can you take a

(They were stumbling home. They were supporting each other because if they didn't they would fall down. Katsa felt safe beneath her bruised and torn open skin. She knew, in that moment, she'd do anything to stay with her friends.)

deep breath for me? You need to breathe."

Oh. Was she not breathing? Katsa tried to take a deep breath in, but she choked on her own voice. Was she the one screaming?

"We're going to move you

(Katsa looked at her wall of pictures. Her fingers ghosted over the photographs of the people she loved. She clenched her fist. She wouldn't be a disappointment much longer. She'd cut away the imperfections.)

onto the stretcher now."

Katsa felt herself be lifted into the air for a moment before she was laid back onto something solid.

"An ambulance is on

(She watched the blood drip down the drain. She scrubbed away all signs of what she did from the shower. She bandaged up her arms, and knew that she wouldn't be able to wear short sleeves anytime soon.)

the way. They'll meet us at the entrance."

Katsa looked up at the changing scenery above her. She tried to focus on what she saw, but the pain overtook her senses.

She hadn't ever felt like this. She hadn't felt in general in a long time. Now, she just felt…

Pain.

That was the only thing accompanying her. She was all alone, with nothing but pain to guide her.

Was this what she had prayed for? A way out, a friend to guide the way?

This wasn't what she wanted.

This wasn't what she wanted at all.

It ended.

This chapter took forever to write. Not only is it the longest, but it's also very heavy. I'm emotionally exhausted after writing this.

So, yeah, the Bad Thing™ happened. More about Katsa's injury will be revealed in the next chapter. I'm actually curious to see if any of you readers can guess what happened (and no, that does not mean you, dear beta readers). So, if you'd like to guess, leave a comment and I'll say if it's right or not.

Also, this chapter revealed two major things: Katsa's abuse and self-harm. At this point, she doesn't really see what's wrong with either of those things. That will change soon though, I promise.

Thank you to everyone who's favorited, followed/subscribed, and reviewed. It means a lot to me.

Thank you MG and Anna! You guys are superstars.

Updates on Sundays.