It's been sooo long since I last updated this story, sorry guys! But here ya go, fourth chapter! Luv you guys! Muah! -3-

I shook out my wrist and inspected the split knuckles as my opponent lay on the ground touching his lip. His friends had run away scared, and it was now just me and him, and the circle of people around us. They had gathered soon after we'd started our brawl, but they'd stayed where they were, apparently too frightened to attempt to stop us.

"Dude, you punch hard!" I looked down at the teen in surprise. His voice wasn't bitter, in fact, it was excited. He grinned up at me devilishly. "You've had experience, haven't you?" He asked, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. I stared, open mouthed, as he held out his hand expectantly. Dumbstruck, I took hold of it and helped him to his feet. This was the first time someone hadn't badmouthed me right after I beat the hell out of them, so I was interested.

He brushed off his pants and shirt and ran a hand through his hair. He took a look around at the crowd and waved dismissively at them.

"Go away, show's over!" He shouted with a glare. Almost instantly, they rushed away, too scared to oppose him. He sighed and gestured down an alleyway with his thumb. "C'mon, someone's probably called the police. If you wanna get caught, by all means, stay here. But, there are better options." He said, walking away into the shadows of the alley. After a moments hesitation, I followed him.

He led me through a tangle of back streets and alleys to an old, decrepit building that looked like it was a mix between a bar and an apartment building. He opened the door-which squeaked loudly-and stepped inside. I followed him hesitantly. I didn't trust this guy, but I didn't want to get caught by the police. So my best chance was to stay here until the danger had passed.

I looked at my surroundings. It seemed like this guy kept the place as clean as he could, but it was still pathetic. It did seem to be a bar, and there was a stairway leading up to what I guessed was an apartment. And when he'd walked in, he'd switched the lights on, so that meant he owned the place or something. How the hell did he own a building though!? Or, maybe he just owned this part? Ah, whatever.

"So, you didn't answer my question earlier, kid. You get in fights often?" He snickered and hoisted himself up onto the counter top. I stayed where I was, but somehow I felt a little bit more relaxed.

"Y-yeah... well, that was my first, ah, street fight in a while." I looked away and clenched and un-clenched my fist. I had gotten rid of the anger that had built up, thankfully, but that damn suffocating feeling still had an iron grip on me.

"You want something to drink?"

My eyes snapped back up to him, shocked and, I have to admit, with a bit of hope. I guess the desperation had shown, because he laughed.

"I'll take that as a 'yes' then." He said, getting off of the counter and walking to a small refrigerator in the corner of the small bar area. Well, how fitting. I forced myself to take a step back. I knew I should run, I knew the police weren't looking for a small nuisance such as our fight, and I knew that I couldn't get back into this. But I couldn't make myself leave. That one step was the only one I took. That one, pathetic, weak attempt to fight the urge.

"Here, catch." My hands raised before my mind could tell it to stop, and I caught the can. I stared at it for a minute, then looked at the kid who was now popping open another can.

"Where did you get these?" I asked warily. 'What the hell, Rin?! Tell him you don't want it!' The guy took a sip from the beer and leaned against the counter.

"My dad's a total alcoholic, and he doesn't mind letting me take some back here. He'll do anything to get me out of the house. Anything." He muttered. It might have just been my eyes playing tricks on me, but I thought I saw a flash of pain in his eyes when he said it. I stayed where I was for a moment, gazing at the can of cheap beer, then pulled the tab. The drink fizzed and I murmured a 'thank you' before taking a tentative sip. It tasted the same.

Disgusting and relieving.

But, before I knew it, I was drinking it down faster than I needed to. I pulled it away from my lips and gasped. I felt tears pricking at my eyes and I closed them to hold them back. I heard my acquaintance snicker and I walked forwards towards where he was. I pulled myself up onto the counter a little ways from him and looked at him.

"What's your name?" I asked, taking the last sip from the can and setting it down next to me. The kid looked up, his dirty blonde, dyed hair falling into his face on one side.

"Rouga. You?" He answered, looking away. I sighed.

"Rin." There was an awkward moment of silence between us before I asked him a question to break the ice. I'd also been wondering it, ever since he invited me to come with him. "Why are you being so... well, I guess, nice to me? I kicked your ass back there and you complimented me. Then reminded me that the police were probably going to come check it out." There was another quiet spell before he huffed.

"You have the same eyes as I do. You weren't fighting 'cause you really wanted to, but because you needed to get rid of anger. But you still... you looked like you needed something else. I was right, wasn't I?" He said, glancing at my empty can of beer. I felt my face heat up and I nodded. He went on. "So, tell me, who pissed you off?" He smirked. I looked down at the floor before answering him.

"Well, it was my brother, I guess. He's a teacher at the school I go to, and he was treating me like a little kid. He always does, it's fuckin' annoying, y'know?" I couldn't keep the words from falling out of my mouth. But this guy... he felt the same as I did.

"Yeah, I know that feeling, my dad does that."

.

.

.

"You want another one?" He asked quietly. My body moved on it's own and I shrugged.

"Sure."

As I was handed the beer, I knew that this was wrong. It was the wrong way to go, it was going to kill me... unless I killed myself first. Yeah, I was feeling that bad. Already. Two days and I'd already fallen to that point.

It was a sick cycle, get depressed, get happy, fall.

And I was stuck again.

I sighed and walked slowly through the dark streets of the town. I was almost back to True Cross town, but I'd stopped and taken a rest a few minutes back. I had too, I almost fell asleep, so I leaned against the wall for a little bit. Thankfully, no one saw me.

I felt the world tip a little bit and I placed my hand on a sign post to steady myself. I wasn't that drunk, I'd only had five beers, but it had been a few years since I was last drinking.

My breath hitched and I covered my mouth. I was near the guards post, and I couldn't draw attention to myself. I might not have been stumbling all over the place, but it would be easy to see that I'd been drinking.

But... I couldn't help it. It was pitiful. I don't know how I managed to stop drinking the last time, I was too focused on becoming a normal person again that I didn't remember, but I do remember the feeling of elation, the feeling of having accomplished something. And since almost no one else knew, it was like I'd earned an invisible medal.

And that medal was stripped away from me in less than two minutes.

I sobbed and crumpled against the sign. I leaned my back against it and hid my face from the world with my hands. I ran my fingers through my hair and grabbed at the raven locks, pulling until my eyes watered even more with the pain. I deserved it. I totally deserved it. I deserved to feel the pain. I'd stooped to that level again, that level below the darkness people associate with depression. It was pain, that's what depression was, pain, not darkness. Depression is when the sun gets so bright it burns your eyes.

So you take matters into your own hands and inflict the pain yourself.

Depression doesn't make you submit to the world.

It makes you submit to yourself.

Another muffled wail ripped through the calm, cool night air, and I slammed my head against the metal post, causing a headache. I took a deep breath in, and tried to calm down, but I couldn't. That's the bad thing about alcohol, it does this thing to me. When I've reached my limit, and I'm wasted, I'm happy. I feel euphoric, like I could be that way forever and do anything I set my mind to. But at this level, I just feel worse than I was before.

And now, it had added a great new feature!

It made me remember every single part of the last time I was like this.

Like that time when I was high on one of Shiro's meds and I cut myself. It started to bleed a lot, and I thought I was going to die.

Or that time when I got into a fight when I was drunk and I came home, bloody, bruised, and staggering. The others had believed that I'd taken a blow to the head and I was off balance, but god were they wrong.

And then that time... that time when I was so desperate for release that I stole Shiro's sake from the kitchen cupboards when he was in the room. It was a close call, I was nearly caught, but I managed to get out of the house before he noticed it-or I-was gone. I think that was the night I passed out on a bench at the playground. I had woken up with a splitting headache and a horrible stomach ache. Thankfully, no one had found me and I got rid of the sake bottle before anyone got there.

I laughed mirthlessly and shook my head. God, I was so pathetic. Not as smart, strong, likable, attractive, or focused as my brother. Not respectable, not needed for anything but a weapon against Satan. Damn it.

I stood up on shaky legs and started walking again. I had to make it home, and hopefully Yukio either wasn't there, or was asleep. It was pretty late, wasn't it?

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and tried to check the time, but my vision was too blurry to see it, and the harsh, un-natural light hurt my eyes. I put it away and sped up a little. I could feel my eyes closing, I had to get back to the dorm as soon as possible.

The rest of the walk seemed like a blur. Nothing was in focus, like I was already half asleep, and before I knew it, I was in front of the door. I grabbed the handle and pulled. I lost my balance and fell. I landed on the base of my tail, which cause me to arch my back and cry out, but I got up again and managed to get inside without any further complications.

Yukio had left the lights on, probably for me, but I couldn't remember where the switch was, so I gave up and took hold of the railing and made my way up the stairs on unsteady feet. I walked as quietly as I could down the hallway to our room and opened the door a crack. The light was still on, and I heard Yukio turn around from where he was probably sitting at his desk. I took a deep breath, straightened up, and tried to look as sober as possible. I entered the room and looked at Yukio head on.

He looked tired. He stood up and crossed his arms. He just stood there, glaring at me. I turned away and pushed my anger down. He was going to try and lecture me, I just knew it.

"Look, Yukio, 'm sorry I yelled in class earlier... I was... stressed out 'nd I... I kinda just snapped." Shit. I was slurring. Not too much though, I could probably pass it off as being tired.

I flinched as I felt my brother's hand on my shoulder and I tensed up. If he got close enough, he could probably smell the alcohol on my breath.

"Nii-san, there is something wrong, and you're going to tell me what it is... now." He said firmly. My breaths sped up, and I closed my mouth. No. No, I couldn't tell him.

"There's nothin' wrong, Yukio, I told ya, 'm just stressed and tired."

"There's something wrong. I know it, Nii-san, and I know when you're lying."

I felt that anger and suffocation come back and I turned around. I stared him right in the eye. "Do you really? Did this magical super-power just happen in the past year, or have you actually always had it?" I said sarcastically. He knew nothing. He knew nothing of when I was depressed the last time. He didn't know I was cutting. He didn't know I was drinking. He didn't know that I used to get high. Right?

We stood there, staring at each other for what seemed like eternity before I turned around and collapsed on my bed. I kicked my shoes off and heard them hit the floor. I grabbed the covers, pulled them up to my neck, and turned away from Yukio, not bothering to tell him to go to sleep, or to go to hell. I'd have rather said the latter, but I didn't have the energy. In fact, I was already fading off to sleep the moment I touched the bed.

One memory haunted my mind though.

One thing that Rouga had offered before I left.

"If you need anything... drinks, drugs... come here. I know the feeling of needing them. You're welcome to come here for 'em."

The scary thing was...

I was close to accepting it.