The bell had rung, and Akashi was starting to feel light-headed.
His arm was aching more than it ever had, and even with constant pressure, the bleeding hadn't completely stopped. He hurriedly strode into the school toilet, locking the door. He pulled off his jumper, bracing for the ripping sensation of the congealed blood being torn off his skin. A warm, thick trickle had resumed and Akashi pulled an identical black jumper from his bag.
He couldn't bear to look at his arm.
It was so ugly.
But it was fascinating.
His eyes travelled from his unmarred hand down to forearm. Cheese-cutter like scabs lined his wrist, and the closer to his elbow he scrutinised, the more grotesque his arm looked. The tiny glass particles had trapped some black lint from his jumper. His arm was matted with blood; pink and raw flesh evident.
Tears formed at the corner of his eyes. Why?
I am so… ugly. I'm crazy.
Salty tears fell on his arm and he bit his lip harshly, the salt burning him to the core. He closed his eyes and leant his head against the door, thinking about his mother, Kuroko, his friends, his life.
STOP.
His thoughts were sluggish, but unanimous. He didn't deserve to think about them. His heart was beating unnaturally fast. He could hear the erratic thumping of his pulse echoing through his skull. Body shaking, he slipped his new jumper over his head and as it made contact with his arm, it instantly became blood-soaked.
Everything was a haze; he didn't even remember walking to the car.
Breathing ragged and deathly pale, he stepped out of the car. He walked in his room, in quick steps. The world was ringing around him, and he couldn't hear a thing. He was vaguely aware of someone calling his name but his only goal was his room, and he got in, slamming the door shut with a loud 'bang'.
Weaker than ever, he slid to the ground.
He was vaguely aware of sounds coming from somewhere near him, but the voices sounded like a thousand mice screeching.
He crawled to his bed.
I'm dying, he realised.
He began to lose feeling in his arms and legs. Collapsing into the softness on the bed sheets, his breathing slowed and laboured, he shut his eyes. Everything around him was black anyway.
"Seijuro!"
He heard an unrecognisable shout, and his world went black.
Akashi's Father:
Akashi's father was in a particularly bad mood. His potential business deal had gone rather sour, and needed a further meeting.
He was sitting in his dining room as he heard a car drive into the estate.
Seijuro must be home.
His butler had told him about Seijuro, who apparently had lost a significant amount of weight. Whatever the reason, he was ready to give him a good scolding - to tell him to stop being irresponsible by not taking care of his health.
As he heard heavy and unsteady footsteps echoing from the foyer, he shouted, "Seijuro, please come in the dining room."
There was no response, only more loud steps and an echoing bang, indicating Seijuro had just slammed the door to his room.
Akashi's father was furious. This stupid boy, disrespectful, stupid boy. He patiently waited for Seijuro's childish anger to pass and come out of his room to apologise, but half a minute later, there was still no Seijuro.
Blood boiling, he walked towards Seijuro's room. Then -
He stopped dead in his tracks, noticing large red bloodstains streaking the wall towards Seijuro's room.
His heart jolted.
Suddenly panicking, he sprinted into his son's room, swinging the door open.
The world seemed to slow down around him.
He saw his son, frail body face-up on his bed.
The white bed sheets were splotched red around him, the red - the blood - his life was draining from his body, and he looked paler than a ghost.
The image of his wife's deathly pallor flashed before him.
NO.
His son couldn't be dead.
His whole body surged forward and he screamed -
"Seijuro!"
He reached for his son; his skin was colder than ice. There was no steady rise and fall of his chest. Panic set in "No, Seijuro! You will not!" His shaking hands felt a weak pulse of his neck.
The butler had heard his boss' screaming and had come running. Now, he stood at the doorway, stunned, and took in the scene before him. His boss - a man who had never expressed affection for his son - was holding the limp body of said son in his arms, sobbing - "Call the ambulance!"
Everything was a blur, and as he got in the ambulance with the paramedics, Akashi's jumper was ripped off completely, revealing the source of the blood.
His heart sank - there were layers of cuts littered all over his son's arm.
"Is he going to be alright? What is happening? Tell me, please!" He was borderline hysterical, staring at the paramedics work without saying a word to him.
As the ambulance stopped at the Kyoto Regional Hospital, they pulled him out in the stretcher and rushed him into the operating theatre where Masaomi was stopped by medical officers.
"I'm sorry sir, you cannot enter."
"That's my son -THAT'S MY SON. Let me pass!" Masaomi yelled furiously, trying desperately to push past the newly-arrived security before he slid to the ground and sobbed, defeated,
"He's my…family."
Author's Notes:
Hello again. I actually wrote this chapter (along with a bit more) in 2018 (ik, its crazy). For all of you who are still here, OMG and thank you so much. I don't think I deserve the kindness that you are all showing me. It was truly irresponsible to leave everyone hanging.
On a brighter note (not really considering the content of this chapter), I hope you like this chapter! I will be posting again sometime this weekend.
Like always, please comment on anything and everything you want, it makes me so so so happy when I read your comments:)
P.S. I don't think this was edited fully so I may be editing it slightly as I go along pls don't kill me ILY3