You're hands are splintered from the tool,

Bleeding, ragged, rough.

Your heart pounds with guilt and grief and rage,

And now you're four feet down.

I wanted to see him.

I mean, I really wanted to go and see him, and actually wanting to do something was a big deal in my current state.

But I knew that I couldn't just waltz into the hospital and see him, for two reasons.

One: If I walked into a building crawling with medical professionals, they'd realize the minute I even made one misstep that I was drunk... or, maybe even the second I walked up to the front desk.

And two...

I didn't deserve to go and see him.

I was the one who should have talked to him... I was the one who should have insisted that he get help, despite how much of a raging hypocrite it would have made me.

I took a sip from the bottle of sake that I had clutched in my hand. I had used it for cooking before, but I didn't use it much otherwise, so there was a lot left in the bottle.

I carefully set the glass bottle down on the floor next to my bed. I closed my blurry eyes and sighed. I tried to get myself to stop feeling like the room was a spinning top, but I only succeeded in finding out I had a particularly bad case of the hiccups. I would have rolled my eyes, but it would take too much energy that I couldn't spare to lose.

I exhaled slowly. Honestly, I didn't want to be drinking right now. I didn't want to be drunk. I wanted to stop, but I knew that I couldn't.

And it wasn't just that I couldn't stop because I felt the need to drink... it wasn't all that I just wanted to keep feeling numb, even though those were big parts of why I couldn't stop... but the major reason was because... because...

Because, dammit, my body wouldn't be able to handle my stopping.

I knew that if I stopped drinking, and I let the alcohol leave my system, I'd start withdrawing. I knew yesterday, when I stopped trying to fool myself that it was just a bad hangover. My shaking hands, my pale, sweaty face... I'd had that before, but mildly, when I first quit drinking...

And let me tell you, that was one of the hardest things I'd ever done.

I couldn't go through that again. It was worse this time, I knew it was, I was drinking now a lot more than I did back then.

I couldn't stop, it was too painful, too miserable... it wouldn't make my life any easier.

I opened my eyes and stared at the bottom of the bunk above me.

So, what was I going to do?

I knew, deep down, that I couldn't keep going like this for the rest of my life. Eventually, the healing that still worked would stop working. My liver would fail, my friends and family would eventually find out, they'd start to leave me, and where would that put me? Right back where I started, and that wasn't a nice place.

So my options?

Pretty much one.

It would cause the people I cared about the least amount of grief. In fact, it would make them feel better, safer. And they would be safer, without me to worry about. I would never have to worry about going crazy on them again. I didn't ever want to put them in danger, yet here I was, an already unstable... thing, making myself more unstable with drug use and a bad mental state.

So my option was to either keep doing this and put everyone in danger...

Or to drink for the rest of my life... which, I would make sure of, wouldn't be that much longer.

I clutched at the sheets I was laying on. What would their lives be like, if I killed myself? I mean, besides more stable and more safe?

Yukio would probably end up with some hot chick as a wife... there were so many girls after him. He would probably become Paladin, or some other high ranking exorcist, being the child prodigy he was. He'd get a nice house, not having to worry about my going berserk, not having to worry about demons, because god knows how good he was at killing those.

Shiemi... I shook my head. I wasn't really sure what I felt about her anymore. I felt totally betrayed, but I deserved it... I didn't blame her. She was strong, but even strong people get weak-kneed in the face of evil, don't they? She had every right to be afraid of me, I sometimes was afraid of me!

She'd probably take over the shop... meet someone special... get married, and blah blah blah... She wouldn't have to be afraid of me anymore. She wouldn't have to dance around the subject of my demon side, or sneak little side glances at me during class when she thought I couldn't see.

I still had a soft spot for her, but I didn't deserve someone that... pure.

I was a demon, right? Impure, devilish, sly, evil.

I clenched my teeth.

How did anyone ever put up with me!? How- why did Father Fujimoto bother to raise me!? He knew who I was, what I was, he should have just killed me, or left me for dead, and raised Yukio! Then Yukio could have grown up like a normal kid, not learning how to fight demons, not knowing that his brother was devil-spawn, not even knowing that he'd had a brother!

And I know it was selfish... but if he'd just killed me, I wouldn't have had to go through all this.

Growing up a delinquent... getting into fights, hurting people, getting hurt, hurting myself... learning I was a demon, hurting my friends... then starting to hurt myself again. My whole damn life was just a never ending carousel of hurt. Of pain. Of fighting, of one sort or another.

And what about Rouga?

What had I done for him?! I used him for alcohol, used him for quick escapes, and what did I give him in return?! Nothing! Hell, I knew he was getting worse, and I didn't do shit about it! I could have helped him, I could have talked to him, I could have convinced him to get help, but did I?! No! I was too caught up in my own damn selfish thoughts that I didn't even think to help him! This kid who actually had a life ahead of him!

"Nii-san! Are you awake?"

I sucked in a breath and scrambled to hide the bottle in my bag, before shoving it under the bed. I heard Yukio's steps on the stairs, and I quickly pulled the covers haphazardly up to my waist, before turning off my bedside light and rolling onto my side, closing my eyes just as I could hear Yukio outside the dorm room door.

I feigned sleep as Yukio entered the room, saw that I was 'sleeping', and began to put his work things away.

As I let the alcohol take over my mind, I breathed out, feeling some stress leave my body as I made up my mind.

'Sorry, Yukio.'

Sorry everyone, for the wait. Things have been rough, so... yeap. Anyways, sorry this chapter is a bit short. I still dunno how I'm gonna end it... so yup.

Thanks again for being with me through all of this! You guys are great people, and I'm so glad I make something that you all enjoy reading! :) 3

P.S. Special thing; I like to draw. If you guys have questions about this (ie what the hell is going on with this, lol) feel free to ask me, and I'll post responses on my DeviantArt account... Rouga will most likely be the one answering, because, you know, he ain't dead, obviously, haha.

So yeah.

Love you. Muah.