All characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi, I only wrote the fanfic. Heavy mentions of abuse, self-harm, and blood. You are warned. Reviews are greatly appreciated.

It's dark.

Now why is it dark?

Where… Where am I? I-I thought I was at the school…

Dark… I'm scared of the dark… Why can't I see anything?!

I gasp loudly and sit up, my arms moving out in front of me to shield me from what I thought was there. But there wasn't. Nothing was.

I glance around my room and feel the sweat drip drip drip down my back like I had been running a mile. I bring my knees up to my chest and hug them, a hard sob escaping my body.

Thank god it was only a dream. That can't happen again…

I shudder and pull the blankets over my head and try to collect my thoughts. The concert did happen, I remember that, and so did talking with Naraku afterwards. But then I left right after, and immediately went to bed. And then the dream. That horrid dream where… where that almost happened and…

I throw the sheets off me and scramble over to the bathroom door, throwing it open and almost falling on my face in the process. A quick glance at the mirror indicates that I looked like a right mess as I yank the drawer with the razor in it open.

A few more added to the collection shouldn't hurt.

Anything, anything, to get rid of that dream will suffice. I feel myself began to cry all over again as I cut myself, the pain I wished I could feel never reaching me. Why do I have such a high tolerance for pain, for christs sake.

"Why…?" I whisper to nothing, sliding down to the floor, propping my head up against the wall. The trickle of blood brings me back from my thoughts and I casually gaze down at it; the river of blood cascading down my hand, painting it the brightest red you'll ever see.

What a nice way to start the day.

Inuyasha meets me at the foot of the staircase in the front of the school, the look on his face saying everything for me as I approached him.

"Kikyo." He said sternly. He said nothing more and I understood almost right away. I swallow hesitantly and lift my sleeves for him to see.

He cringed slightly and sighed, lifting his hands to cup my own.

"Kikyo… Why? You promised me."

"I know, Inuyasha, I know…" I mutter, gritting my teeth slightly. "I had to, you wouldn't understand."

"Of course I would. We've been friends for, what, almost a year now? I know more than any of your other friends did and you know it."

That was true.

"Alright, just, please tone it down. I don't want anyone else knowing about what I do, okay?"

He nodded and pulled me off to the side more, away from everyone else. He sat down next to me on the grass and pulled me into a side hug, rubbing my arm slowly as he listened to me.

"It started from yesterday. I went to the concert, talked with Professor Naraku after, and left. But- but the dream… Oh the dream was horrible. H-he was in it, tried to… to… and I wanted to scream so badly but it felt like I was choking."

"Did he-?"

"No, no, thank god… It was only a dream, and nothing happened. I'm glad nothing happened. It just spooked me and… I went a little overboard this morning."

Inuyasha said nothing more and pulled me even closer to him, kissing the side of my head.

"If anything like that ever happens, you tell me, alright? I'll put anyone in their graves faster than you can dial my number." He gave my arm a squeeze, and I knew I could count on him.

I laugh softly and pull myself up from the grass. "Thank you, really. I don't know what I'd do without you."

His eyes are on me again. Oh what I would give to tell him off in front of the class and embarrass him. I sat down and pull out my essay that was due and presented it to him as he walked around to collect it.

Our eyes met and I blinked, then narrowed them as I thought back to the dream. Why I let the dream haunt me and deface the man who complimented me on my violin skills is beyond me.

He explains the test we have to take and then the speech later as I tune him out for what seems like the billionth time. I hate this class, simple as that. And Naraku isn't doing justice for it at all. I dig my nails into the surface of the desk and stare out the window, biting my tongue.

Why, why, do I admire a man such as yourself?

She seems upset.

Everyone could see that.

What do you think made her upset? Us, perhaps?

I doubt it was us. For one, we did nothing at all to her. Second, we haven't seen her since yesterday evening and she seemed pretty happy. Anything could've happened.

Hn. She didn't bring her violin with her today. Is she not going to play for us like we planned?

Oh, I suppose not. I hadn't even noticed.

As the students were filing out of the classroom, I can feel Naraku's presence near and I sit up straight, grabbing my bag from the floor. I dozed off a bit and wasn't even aware class had ended. Oops.

"Miss Kikyo?" I hear him ask softly, leaning against his desk.

"Hm, yes, what?" I mumble, stifling a yawn as I shrugged on my backpack.

"Are you not playing the violin for us- I mean me- today?"

I must've been extremely tired, since I didn't catch the slip up.

"Oh, you know, not today. I forgot my violin at home and don't really feel up for it. Can we reschedule?" I rub my eyes, walking blindly to the door.

I stopped once I reached it and looked back at him, my eyes widening slightly. The look on his face terrified me, the way he was intently staring at the floor. It looked like he wanted to strangle something within five feet of him.

"Professor?"

And then he snapped out of it, just like that, and returned to normal. He shook his head and combed his fingers through his long, black, silky locks. I want to run my fingers through his hair sometime, just to know how it feels.

"I'm fine. Next week, same time. Don't forget, or I'll be upset."

I hesitate before taking my leave, his somewhat threat bearing down on my chest. Why did his mood change so drastically? It kind of freaked me out. And why am I letting it bother me so much?

Screaming sounds just dandy right about now.

I finally find Inuyasha hanging out with Kagome at one of the lunch tables and I go up behind him to hug him.

"Thank you for earlier, again. It helped me a lot." Which it did, otherwise I would've probably missed lunch and have been in the bathroom eating and crying my feelings.

Kagome eyed me dangerously and I roll my eyes before standing back up, Inuyasha not noticing the exchange between us. But Kagome probably hinted at it wrong and I won't blame her, since I would've acted the same if I didn't know what exactly happened.

"It's no problem, Kikyo. You're my friend and I'm here for you."

At least one person is.

They're upset, I can feel it. They're angry and at me more than likely and I want to punch something.

They found my razors.

And they're yelling. Oh god please stop the yelling. Please please please please please.

I shrink into myself on the couch; my father screaming threats at me and my mother shoving my sleeves back to take a gander at my wrists. And then she freaks out all over again.

I try to defend myself, starting to say that I need it to cope, when slap.

He.

He hit me.

I stumble back and my hand flies up to my cheek, the pain making it feel like my jaw had unhinged. With a hit like that, I wouldn't be surprised.

Oh, my nose is also bleeding. Nice going, dad.

He shouts again, We do everything in our power to keep you healthy and alive and you do this?! and hits me once more.

She doesn't help. The look of betrayal is written clear on her face.

He grabs my wrist, digging his thumb deep into it, into where the deepest cut is and I cry out in pain.

"Isn't this what you wanted? Huh? Pain, right? Well, I'll show you the true definition of pain."

I honestly don't feel anything after that. Maybe my body had shut down, maybe I passed out, or maybe I just didn't care enough to feel what he was giving to me.

Morning couldn't come fast enough.

I wake up sore and bruised all over. My legs did not want to move, my eyes not wanting to open, and my wrists.

Good god.

My wrists. Why do they feel like they've been cut off?

I force myself to crack my eyes open and I whimper at the bright light flooding my vision. Pain erupted everywhere, every limb I moved, and crying wouldn't stop it, so I paid no mind to the frog in my throat. I sit up, taking all of five minutes, and sighed in relief. The blankets weren't on me, and if they were, I knew for a fact that I would have never been able to take them off.

Bruises were scattered everywhere, dried blood on my legs. I lower my eyes to my wrists and wince outright, a strangled noise coming from my throat.

More cuts, more than I've ever put on my body, littered my arm. Dried blood everywhere, a lot more than my legs, and I let out a shaky breath. There were some shallow cuts and very deep cuts, deeper than I would've ever done, yet none of them touched an artery. Maybe he didn't want me dead after all.

When I try to push myself from my bed, excruciating pain enveloped me and I snatch my hand up from the bed. I don't even want to look, don't even know how I missed it, yet I look down anyways, tears filling my eyes.

My fingers all seemed broken, from what it looked like, but only on my right hand. Dark bruises lined where my fingers bend, and they were all bent oddly. He would do this, to make sure I wouldn't touch a razor ever again. Well.

The jokes on him.

Maybe I'll end this sooner than I had hoped.