A/N: Ay... Yeah I know, don't remind me. Sorry I took so long. I realize it's been over a year which is terrible and then I come back with this shit... but I had to give you guys content. You asked so nicely. Hopefully next update won't take as long.

Also, writing advice for you other writer's out there: if you are struggling to fully form an idea for a story or something and it just won't stick, just scarp it. Come at it from a different angle, like consider what other conflict you could create or build off of to advance your story or focus on another character and their problems. That's one of the reasons why I took so long to post this. The original idea was entirely different but I just couldn't write it and just decided "fuck it, what else can I do?" and bam. Hope this helped.


Failure

Shino had made this particular ritual a routine, and to be perfectly honest, she thought it was the worst idea she had ever come up with in her life.

Sitting rigidly on her bed, legs crossed, hands gripped tightly together in her lap, she stared across the room at the right-side drawer of her desk. Her dark eyes were still, never wavering no matter how much they wanted to. Shino didn't even have to open the drawer to know exactly what it looked like on the inside. She had really only seen it a handful of times, but just once was enough to be scarred for life.

For an eternity, she just sat there, feeling her insides freeze over. It wasn't until she realized the sun was going down outside that she finally steeled her nerve. Taking a deep breath, Shino pushed her feet to the floor and stood. Her legs were steady for now…

Feeling somewhat disconnected from her body, Shino watched herself walk forward, the desk getting closer to her. And then she was standing in front of it, eyes fixed on the top, right above that godforsaken drawer. She didn't want to make herself look at it as she reached, hand curling around the handle to open it.

The drawer opened slowly, like an old train clanking along the tracks. Inside were a handful of old fashion magazines and department store catalogues. Shino's eyes stared at the front of a Muji catalogue advertising a clothing sale, but she didn't see it as her hand reached toward the back. Her fingers brushed something hard and cool, and without giving herself time to really think about it, she grasped it and pulled it into view.

It was a 9mm handgun, a silver CZ 75. Well, it wasn't a real gun, but that wasn't important.

Shino took the replica in both hands, holding it in front of her, the muzzle pointing down like she was preparing to shoot. But she could only stare, unable to move.

It wasn't until she started hyperventilating that she realized she had been holding her breath, but it was too late to go back now. The air stabbed sharply into her lungs, but it was never enough to help her breathe. She couldn't stop herself from shaking, hands locked up and unable to just let go.

Then the red seeped into her eyes.

Next thing Shino knew, the gun had dropped to the floor with a clatter, her hands pressing to her mouth as she ran to the bathroom. She dropped to her knees on the floor, head thrown over the toilet as she threw up what little food she had eaten that day, the bile acrid in her throat. She heaved several times, coughing and sputtering out all the contents of her stomach, until she was just dry heaving, body wanting to expel something that wasn't there.

When it was finally, finally over, Shino sat back, still hunched pathetically over the toilet bowl. She just breathed, the air soothing but aggravating on her throat at the same time. Taking a piece of toilet paper to wipe her mouth, the girl slowly sat back, turning so that she could lean against the bathroom wall.

I'm pathetic, she thought bitterly, wiping at her mouth with a shaky swipe of her hand.

Nothing's changed. Nothing has ever changed, and she didn't know why she tried to fool herself into thinking things had even marginally improved. Things lately had just been so good… she had hoped… But no. If things were better, she would have immediately started appraising her weapon, going over every advantage and liability with professional precision, not feeling overwhelmed with fear just knowing that it existed. A stable person wouldn't have thrown up because they were holding a stupid toy. Why couldn't she just be Sinon in real life too?

With a small sigh, Shino pulled her knees to her chest, burying her head in her arms.

I thought I was improving, but I'm still just a failure.