Author's Note: This one's a bit darker than most of what we've seen so far. It takes place when Mitsuko's going through a bit of a rough time.
Mitsuko x Setsuko
Prompt: My character has caused yours to scream out for some reason.
It was the third time this week that Mitsuko had found herself in this position, and though she knew she shouldn't, she kept coming back.
She was leaning against the kitchen counter, turning the sharp knife over in her hands. She'd spent far too much time wondering what the blade might feel like as it bit into her flesh, how the blood would look running down her arm. Would it be enough of a distraction?
She knew that most people used razors for this sort of thing, but there was something appealing to her about a knife. It was symbolic, almost, for a reason she wasn't quite certain of.
Mitsuko had no intention of actually cutting herself. She knew she'd be put through hell when certain people found out, and though she loathed herself for it, she knew she didn't have the courage. She was no masochist.
Still, she pressed the edge of the blade at an angle against her wrist, feeling the cool metal against her skin and wondering, just wondering.
She didn't hear the quiet footsteps approaching her, but she certainly heard the scream that followed.
Mitsuko jerked violently at the sudden noise, her hand slipping and allowing the knife to make a shallow cut on her wrist before falling to the floor with a clatter. She let out a small cry, her whole arm stinging. Then she looked up slowly to meet Setsuko's horrified eyes.
"You promised you wouldn't," Setsuko whispered, seemingly unable to move.
Mitsuko's heart was in her throat. "I wasn't going to," she said desperately. "I wasn't. I was just holding it… and you came in, and… it slipped," she finished feebly, her face burning with shame.
Setsuko stared at her for a moment longer, and then she seemed to thaw out of her frozen state. She walked over to Mitsuko and wrapped her arms around her. "I'm hiding the knives, you hear? We'll live on soup for as long as we have to."
Mitsuko knew better than to argue. "Okay," she whispered, just grateful that she wasn't being yelled at.
She squeezed her eyes shut and hugged Setsuko tightly, willing herself not to cry.