A/N: Here's chapter 1, as promised. I don't have much to say, so on with the story!


Chapter 1: Feeding the Urge

'Pain... I need to feel pain. I need to suffer.'

Yuri let her long legs carry her. She kept to a sprinting pace. Her muscles were aching, tearing, screaming for her to stop, but she completely ignored the feeling. Each breath burned her dry throat. She was running out of breath, and her throat felt as though it was closing more and more tightly with each shallow breath she took. She had to stop.

But she didn't.

She slowed down, yes, but she didn't stop. She started coughing. Her brain wasn't receiving enough oxygen, but she didn't stop. She slowed down to walking pace, but she didn't stop. No, she didn't stop until she reached her house. She went inside and slammed the door behind her before pressing her back against it and slumping to the floor. She couldn't hold the tears in any longer. She felt her heart pound as she desperately struggled for air, each shallow breath barely reaching her lungs while she choked on her own tears. Her head felt like it was going to explode at any moment.

'Water...'

She forced herself to get up, her legs nearly giving out as she stumbled her way into the kitchen. Her mouth was filled with thick mucous because of the sudden exertion, yet she did not bother to spit it out before drinking directly from the faucet. She didn't care that some of her hair was getting wet in the sink. The slimy mucous slithered down her throat as she drank, but no matter how much water she consumed, it never seemed to be enough. Still, she had to stop in order to breathe.

She nearly collapsed on the ground; her back resting on one of the kitchen cupboards for support. She stared ahead of her with soulless eyes, thinking back on the past few moments.

'What a disgusting human being I am.'

She coughed once more between her panting. Fatigue suddenly consumed her, so she outstretched her warm body on the cold tiles, making her arms into a makeshift pillow. Soon, she fell into the loving embrace of sweet sleep.

A vibration from her blazer pocket disturbed her light slumber. Her eyes shot open, only to shut themselves again after the first few orange rays of the setting sun forced their way into Yuri's puffy eyes. She forced her eyes to open, despite how furiously they burned. She slowly reached into her pocket to check the notification.

Monika: Hey Yuri, could you please give me your address? You left your bag at the clubroom.

She nearly gasped as she remembered: they were writing an important physics test in the next two days. She immediately responded and smiled at the thought that someone was considerate enough to think about her. Another notification popped up almost immediately.

Monika: Thanks! You'll get your bag at around 7 PM. Hope you're okay.

'Hope you're...okay? Why would she-'

She dropped her phone. For a moment, she had forgotten what she had done a mere hour earlier, but soon her smile faded as the memories flooded into her mind. Her phone lay on the floor, completely forgotten. Her cold legs caused her to shiver. She let out a sigh, her vile breath seemingly bursting through her lips.

'What a disgusting human being I am.'

She suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

'I guess it's a good thing I didn't eat anything today. Wasting food would've only made this worse.'

Despite her thoughts, Yuri didn't know what to feel. Disappointment, perhaps?

She had always felt some sort of a disconnection from her emotions. If what she was feeling at any given time wasn't extreme, she simply wouldn't know how she felt. Often times she'd have to guess what she was feeling by examining her reactions to whatever happened to her. Earlier that day, she remembered feeling disappointment in herself. She remembered sitting in her room that morning, holding the dull edge of her favourite knife to her left arm.

'Three weeks,' she thought to herself, 'for three weeks, I've been able to suppress the urge,'

She remembered putting the knife back in her drawer, undeterred by the fact that she really wanted to reopen those wounds.

'Maybe if I had given in, I would've been able to control myself today.'

Her head sank into her arms. She should have been proud of herself for resisting the sweet temptation, but instead, she regretted it. Defeated, she slowly took off her shoes. The long-haired girl tried getting up, but her legs buckled under the sudden sharp pain. She let out a groan as she grabbed hold of the counter for support, finally standing up. Her muscles ached, but she didn't let that stop her from making her way to the bathroom. She deserved to feel the pain in her legs, for it was the same pain she inflicted on her friend.

'Friend...'

The word caused the lump in her throat to rise once more. She just had to go and ruin one of the few friendships that made it past her social anxiety. She knew that the short girl had an abusive father, and she just had to lose control and hurt her. How was she meant to face Natsuki at the next club meeting?

'What a disgusting human being I am.'

Perhaps taking a bath would make her feel less repugnant. As she reached the bathroom, she stared at herself long and hard in the mirror, taking in each and every detail of her creased uniform, her dishevelled hair, her swollen eyes. She felt the pit in her stomach grow to an immeasurable size, consuming even the faintest ideas of hunger. It wasn't long before she found herself in the hot bath, tracing her fingers across the multiple scars on her arms.

'Why did you have to remind me?'

The tinge of anger that rose up was immediately consumed by the eternal void, and she blankly stared ahead of her for an unknown period of time. It wasn't long before she found herself sitting on her bed, dressed in her leggings and sweater. She glanced up at the clock on her wall.

'6 PM. I have a whole hour before she gets here.'

Her eyes wandered to her drawer. She had even gone as far as to put a raccoon sticker on the wood; a reminder of a poem she had written earlier in the week to suppress the urge.

'I thought I only had enough bread for myself,'

The sound of the drawer opening shattered the silence. Yuri didn't even realise how violently she shoved it open. Undeterred, she slowly reached into the compartment.

'Pain is the only feeling I have control over,'

She reassured herself that this was the right thing to do; the only way she could cope with her emotions; the only way to process the emotions that she wasn't even aware she was feeling. She considered going out for a quick run before the sun sank below the horizon, but she figured that she'd rather be able to move the next day. Plus, she found comfort in routine.

'It's been far too long,'

She gently took out the knife. She rolled up her left sleeve.

'Three weeks, I've been able to suppress the urge,'

She traced the dull edge of the blade over her scars.

'I've reached my limit,'

She turned the blade over.

'I realise now that this is not an urge to suppress,'

The sharp end of the blade felt welcoming on her tender skin.

'It's an urge that I need to embrace,'

A sudden knock on the door downstairs caused her to jolt, sending the knife deeper into her forearm than she had intended.

'Shit.'

She put the knife back in its usual spot before she drew blood, shutting the drawer almost as quickly as she opened it. Her irritation soared through the roof. She glared at the clock only to find that not even two minutes had passed.

'Who the hell could be rocking up here at sunset?'

It couldn't be her parents since they were off on a weeklong second honeymoon. Having turned 18 the previous month, Yuri was left in charge of the house. She rushed to the bathroom and poured cold water over the cut to wash the blood away. Afterwards, she applied petroleum jelly in an attempt to suppress the bleeding. Not the best solution, but she was not in the mood to answer questions.

Yuri grabbed some toilet paper and put it over the cut before carefully rolling her sleeve back down. As she made her way downstairs, the person knocked on the door once more. She tried to ignore the pain in her legs.

'Maybe it's Monika. If it is, why couldn't she just come over when she said she'd come over? What an inconvenience...'

She paused for a moment. Her expression softened and she suddenly felt remorse at her previous irritation. How could she react like that to someone who was just looking out for her?

'Maybe I have a problem...'

She reached the front door and lightly turned the knob. A sigh escaped her as she closed her eyes in mental preparation of this brief social interaction. Hopefully Monika wouldn't ask her about what happened. She stopped dead in her tracks.

'What does she think of me now? How will I cope tomorrow? I can't face anyone, let alone Natsuki.'

Dejected, she slowly opened the door the rest of the way, her eyes fixated on the floor. She held out her hand, hoping to take the bag and get this over with as soon as possible. Monika would understand. She had to.

A moment passed, and Yuri clutched the strap of the bag that was handed to her.

"Thank you," she uttered.

"So are you gonna look at me or what?"

The cheeky voice caused the purple-haired girl to look up, mortified. In front of her, bathed in orange light, stood a short girl with a signature pose that complemented her tone.

"N-Natsuki?!"


A/N: As you've probably noticed, I'm not really holding back with any of the details. So far I've really been enjoying writing this story and I hope you find similar enjoyment in reading it, even if the subject matter isn't exactly light-hearted. Constructive criticism is welcome. Anyway, see you next week with chapter 2!