Trigger Warning.


Panic struck Hiro as he scrambled to the bathroom. Three cracks of blood were etched into the skin under his palm. But he rushed to stop the blood immediately. He'd heard of people doing this to end their lives, but that was never his intention. He pulled a small length of toilet paper off the roll and balled it up against his wrist. Shaking, he sunk to the floor in front of the sink and held his throbbing arm.

"Way to go, knucklehead," he could almost hear Tadashi say.

"Go away," he whispered to himself. Yet, he could feel the disappointment spread through him. He knew Tadashi wouldn't approve of his seclusive actions. "But he's gone..." he spoke softly to the air, holding back tears. Again, panic began to take over as he pulled his knees to his chest. It started to really sink in. Tadashi was gone. There wouldn't be anymore late night conversations, no more scary movie nights, no brotherly advice on any matter Hiro could come up with. Nothing. Hiro bit his lip, determined not to break down again.

Holding his arm in front of him, Hiro studied the three crimson lines. All of them were parallel to each other, perfectly straight. He tilted his head as if in wonder. It's just blood, he thought. Nothing special. But this was different. Cuts were supposed to hurt and stung. These didn't. They ached in a different way. Like pulling something from his gut out. He closed his eyes and stood. He didn't know it yet, but that was the thought that opened the next chapter of his life.

Hiro opened the cabinet above the sink and pulled out the first aid kit. He wrapped his arm in a cotton bandage. If Aunt Cass saw the other cuts, Hiro had no idea what she'd say. Things like that you can't just show Aunt Cass. She has enough to deal with, he told himself. She doesn't need another mess up in her life. The thought was a sinking one. It sunk right into his gut as he finished wrapping his wrist and forearm. Again and again it played through his mind. I'm just another mess-up she doesn't need...

With that in his head, he slowly climbed the stairs to his room. He was drained. He flopped onto his bed with what little energy he had left and stared at the ceiling. Tempting thoughts raced through his mind again and again. What if I had with my parents? He wondered. Would it make a difference? What if Tadashi lived and I had died? Would Tadashi miss me? Hiro shuddered, terrified what the answers to his questions were.


So I was definitely listening to some old angsty music from my teen years when this story came to my mind. Again, sorry it's so short. Also, anyone dealing with anything Hiro is dealing with in this fiction, please know I love you. It gets better. I promise. Much love!