Yeah, another Angst-y Kai fic. I have to do a project about self-mutitaion and all that, and I sorta came up with this.

*ducks as Rabid Kai fans come towards her wielding pitchforks* Don't Kill Me!! I didn't mean to! It wouldn;t get out of my head!!

Disclaimer: If I by shares with Hasbro, can I say I own beyblade _Then_?

Review!! Review I tell you!! (hey, that ryhmes! ^^)

Standing in the bathroom, a towel around his waist, the garnet-eyed teen stared down at the scars running across his lower arms. He'd almost forgotten they existed; they'd been covered up so long.

Suddenly ignorant to where he was, Kai ran a finger over the marks. He remembered how each of them had occurred.

Most of them were from his grandfather's lessons; most of them had been intended to make him stronger, immune to pain.

A few of them, however...

A few of them were simply an attempt to escape the pain. Not the pain the wounds inflicted, no, he could deal with that pain.

But the pain in his heart, the eternal throbbing inside of him could not be so easily dealt with. Causing physical pain could numb the inner, however, blocking it out.

But it always came back.

That's why he'd kept doing it...

~*~*~*~*~*~

The first time had been innocent enough. He'd been eight. Leaning on the wall, wrapping bandages around one of his bloodied arms.

Focusing on the pain, he'd rhythmically wrapped the arm, trying to block out the misery and self-pity that threatened to overflow. It wasn't like he wanted this. He just wanted to be a normal kid, be allowed to do normal things. Have a normal life where the only pain he had to worry about was scraping his knees and such.

But he couldn't seem to block out the thoughts that filled his head, threatening to burst out of him in a torrent of self-pitying tears.

An old nail had been sticking out of the wall, and his arm had caught on it, tearing the flesh a few centimeters before coming out of his arm.

It had stung, and Kai had bit back a cry- more of surprise than anything else- before examining the wound. It was small, a flesh wound, harmless.

But it still hurt. It made Kai curious, how such a small wound could hurt so much. It made Kai forget about the pain inside.

Pulling out the nail, Kai had examined it. It hadn't been anything special, just an old, bent nail. It wasn't even rusty.

But it seemed to give his so much relief.

He hadn't even really realized what he was doing the first time he'd done it deliberately. The next week, he felt as if his mind would explode from all the pressure on it. And then he'd remembered how much the cut- now a scab on his arm- had helped.

He'd taken a knife- a dagger with a dark stone set in the handle- and run it down his arm, a much neater cut than those his grandfather had given him. And it had helped, so much. It was as if the sticky trail of blood running down his arm, dripping of his elbow, were all the thoughts and feelings, escaping through a simple cut.

Kai ran the blade down his arm again...

Release.

~*~*~*~*~*~

With a shake of his head, Kai forcefully pulled himself out of his memories. That had been a long time ago. He'd stopped cutting years ago, though it had been hard, he'd been so used to escaping the hurt that way...

He stopped because he didn't want to end up like Voltaire; the man that he- and inwardly, Kai shuddered at this- had called his grandfather for so long.

By hurting people that way, even himself, how different was he? That was the thought, the question, which had driven Kai to stop.

Instead, he started burying himself away. He'd blocked all emotions off, what he couldn't feel could hurt him. Right?

Kai changed into a clean set of clothes, pulling the gauntlets back out, hiding the scars he bore, mere symbols of his inner scars.

He was beginning to feel again, Kai knew it. He was beginning to feel the hurt inside him again, pounding in his head, screaming for an escape.

Something about being with the BladeBreakers, the way they continuously tried to get him to come out of his emotionless shell, was beginning to crack his impassive armor. They just kept at it, and, over a long period of time, they were chipping away at his defenses, little by little.

But once a crack had been made, the thoughts and emotions dripped though, making the hole larger, thus more emotions could get through, making it larger again.

A cycle, and he was trapped, unable to stop it.

Kai left the bathroom, walking into the room he shared with Ray. The tiger was lying, still asleep in his bed. Just like the others were. Just like every other morning, they slept until Kai woke them, to train.

Kai scowled slightly, couldn't they even wake up in time?

And there it was again, that little voice in the back of his head, the voice he thought he'd gotten rid of.

/You just wish you were like them. Without a care in the world apart from when the next meal it./ Kai glared at thin air as he walked towards his beside table, intending to take Dranzer and practice for a while before he woke the others.

And the voice just kept talking, telling him what a cold bastard he was.

How he had turned out just like Voltaire.

It made Kai want to scream. But that wasn't what he wanted. No, what he really wanted was release.

Kai stopped short, suddenly, staring at something, lying on the bedside table, which made him freeze, his blood run ice cold.

He loathed the sight, and at the same time, he savored it.

Lying on the table, next to his beyblade, was a knife- a dagger with a dark stone set in the handle. The dagger looked just the same as it always had.

Except this time, the blade was stained red with blood.