A/N: From this point onward, depression, self-harm and other sensitive issues might be shown, portrayed or discussed in this chapter and others to come. Reader discretion is advised for those who are sensitive to such matters.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE – THE SCUTTERING OF A RACCOON (YuKi)

The only sounds that prevailed in the classroom were the ambient tones of the school—the rustling of the trees outside, silent footsteps echoing through the corridors, doors from adjacent rooms opening and closing. They were punctuated by the occasional sigh from an exasperated student or the announcements that a proctor made about how many minutes remained for the class to answer their tests. Any student's hopes that the exams would be postponed after the fire that happened around two weeks ago were dashed when it was announced that everything would push through with little to no changes in schedules. Those whose classrooms were affected in some way by the fire were simply transferred to vacant rooms at other locations in the school.

Of course, Naoki wouldn't have it any other way. Delaying the exams would only increase the strain in leading up to them; as with anything related to the academic, he preferred to get things over with as soon as possible, something that put him occasionally at odds with Kenta and his belief that more time off from schoolwork is always good. Other students sided with Kenta, but none could deny that the bliss after the exams is always better than the proverbial calm before the storm.

Though that wasn't to say the study session that took place a couple of weeks ago wasn't enjoyable. Again, as he had told Yuri, Naoki preferred to study alone instead of being with an entire group—more time to think and less time to mess around—but the experience had been a surprisingly dynamic and refreshing one. Apart from the quality time he spent with Yuri and his best buddies, he managed to meet some new people as well. Monika, of course, was already well-known among everyone, while Akihiro was becoming more familiar to the group by the week, but the ones that he had never talked to in person before—namely Sayori and Natsuki, whom he only heard frequently from Akihiro and Daisuke—also seemed to be an amiable lot. Sayori was every bit as friendly as Akihiro had said before, possibly even more so compared to when she was Naoki's classmate, while Natsuki was candid as well, though she also seemed to be a bit too serious at times.

Naoki sighed and shook his head. Thinking about the study session made him long for the get-together that the eight of them had agreed to after the exams were done. Knowing that distractions won't do at the moment, he bunkered down and focused on the remaining questions that lay before him.

Enumerate and expound on at least five major events that took place during the Edo Period.

Name the shogunates and their respective leaders that ruled Japan during the Medieval Period.

Which countries were annexed under Japan after the first Sino-Japanese War?

Looking at the questions, History seemed simple enough to Naoki, especially when compared to the more complicated questions found in the likes of Mathematics and Science on some occasions. He, like many others, were thankful that Mathematics had already been dealt with yesterday; it had been relatively noisier then as fingers tapped against scientific calculators, with some pressing the buttons with excessive ire as if to express their exasperation at the equations they were required to solve. When it was all over, though, the tension had eased, and everyone looked forward to finishing strongly for the next couple of days. After today, only Science and Moral Studies would be left, and after that is the time that many in school were waiting for.

Careful not to look as if he was cheating, Naoki shifted his gaze around the room, observing his classmates as he dwelt on what he would be writing down on his exam paper. Next to him, Kenta was tackling his paper more quietly for today; yesterday, it had taken every ounce of his self-control for him to refrain from swearing out loud as he solved equations.

To Naoki's right, meanwhile, Yuri was showing her nerves by occasionally sighing, shifting in her seat and twirling her hair with her finger idly. What worried him most, however, was the fact that she seemed keen on being alone for the past few days. After the study session they had over at her house and the one that took place at Monika's house, Yuri seemed to have bounced back well enough, but everything changed once exam week arrived. Naoki guessed that deep down, Yuri was still more anxious about the exams than she liked to admit. Looking back at the time when she spilled tea on his notes by accident, he imagined that she was also still dwelling on that incident in secret, and it was adding to her overall stress. The two of them had not mentioned what happened that day again so far, but Naoki was prepared to remind Yuri that what she did was just an accident. Hopefully, once the exams were over, she would also be back to her quiet but happy self.

Fifteen minutes later, the professor presiding over them spoke up. "Last five minutes, everyone."

Naoki glossed over his paper one more time, double-checking his answers on the parts with multiple choices and making sure that he did not leave anything out in the essays. Other students did so as well, sitting up straighter in their seats and finalizing what they had written. When the time was up, they were instructed to pass their papers in orderly fashion, and just like that, it was as if a veil had been lifted from the classroom as everyone began to stir and speak once again, discussing and comparing their answers while voicing their concerns over the ones they were unsure of.

Kenta stretched in his seat. "Well, that went better than I expected," he said, grinning. "Better than damn Math yesterday, that's for sure. Didja do well, Naoki? Ah, what am I saying? Of course you did!"

"We won't know for sure until the papers come back checked and graded, Kenta," said Naoki, smiling.

"Ah, cut that out. You always get better grades than me or Daisuke," said Kenta, waving his hand dismissively. "Anyway, it's good that it's just gonna be Science for tomorrow, and we'll be home free."

"Science and Moral Studies, Kenta," Naoki reminded him.

"Bah! Moral Studies is a pushover anyway," Kenta guffawed. "Science is a bit more important, but only 'cuz it's a tougher nut to crack."

Before Naoki could reply to Kenta's statement, however, he saw something to the side that caught his eye: Yuri, her head bowed and her hands pressed against her chest, hurrying out of the classroom door. His brow furrowed at the sight, bringing his worry back in full force.

Kenta, who seemed to have noticed the change on his expression, looked around towards where he was glancing. "What is it?"

"Nothing," replied Naoki quietly. "It's just Yuri."

Kenta looked at him. "Is something wrong or were you just looking at your girl like you always do?" he asked, grinning amusedly.

"I just hope she's alright. She hasn't been herself for a while now," said Naoki, looking at the closed door after her.

"Well, the exams always get to people. One day you're doing alright reviewing and all that, but once you're staring at the actual exam, you just feel completely out of the loop," said Kenta. "Maybe after this, she'll do better."

Naoki sighed. "Yes, maybe."

Gingerly, Yuri unfurled the bandage on her left forearm, careful not to make a sound from within the cubicle. The bandage's fibers stuck to her scars, which were still wet with droplets of blood, causing pain to pierce through her arm. She allowed a deep, trembling sigh to escape from her nostrils as she savored the sensation, which seemed to merge almost harmoniously with the rising beat of her heart inside her chest. Her knees shook a little, causing her to feel grateful for the stability that the toilet on which she sat offered. In ten minutes, their last exam for the day would start. Yuri knew that she needed to wrap things up—literally, she imagined as she looked at her forearm—and get back to the classroom by then. If it was up to her, however, she would rather stay locked inside the cubicle and wait until the school was devoid of people before coming back out. Somehow, it was the only way that she would feel secure right now.

It was one thing to review for the exams, to pore over notes and books and nail down whatever needs nailing in order to take them head on, and it was a whole other thing to actually be there in a chair scrutinizing one question after another, skipping the questions that proved too tough to answer and quickly picking off the easiest ones. During times like these, memories of exams past often come drifting back, reminding students of the euphoria of acing a test as it goes, and the despair of sitting through an agonizing hour trying to salvage another and scrape a measly passing grade in the process. Yuri had seen her fair shares of both experiences, but the nerve-wracking sensation that the latter scenario brought was always too much for her. Even though she never admitted it publicly, she always strived for a standard that she sets for herself; any scenario where she would fizzle and fail made her feel so embarrassed, so feeble. It reminded her of laughter in the corridors, of fingers pointing towards her, of shaking heads and derisive eyes.

And then, and then . . . the scars, like Ariadne's thread, would always help her find a way out, help grant her the respite that she looked for.

While she was reviewing alone in her room during the past few days, Yuri always had certain preparations made to ensure that her studying would be as optimal and comfortable as possible: an essential oil of her choice suffusing the atmosphere with its aroma, a pot full of oolong tea with an empty cup standing ready next to it, a scented candle whose light and smell will provide extra comfort. However, instead of doing their job as Yuri had wanted to, her preparations only served to remind her of that disastrous study session she had with Naoki.

Who had been clumsy enough to put so much jasmine essential oil in the diffuser to the point where everyone's senses had been clouded? Who had been clumsy enough to spill a cup of oolong tea all over Naoki's notes? Who brought the tea up to her room anyway?

Who invited Naoki over for a study session in the first place?

Yuri fought hard to make up for the accident, even amid all of Naoki's assurances that it was nothing too bad to worry about. Determined to make a good first impression upon the other people who were present at the study session facilitated by Kenta and Monika Steinbeck of 3-A, she did her best to not seem too quiet or aloof, though she avoided speaking up first if she could help it in order to not draw too much attention to herself. Looking back, that was all Yuri had ever done in a great part of her life. At school, outside, even at home, she always strived to find a way to be under the radar and away from those judgmental gazes. After all, she can never know when a friendly face may change after she does something untoward.

It made her feel like some kind of monster. Then again, maybe she actually was one, considering this horrible . . . addiction she had.

Was it an addiction? Back then, ostracism, a punishment for failure, heartache—these were the causes of her taking a blade to task on her skin. Such things seemed distant now, but long after the judging eyes of her peers had looked away, long after her heart had decided to peek back out with the hope of never being broken, Yuri had suffered from the fear that it can happen all over again. That was one of the reasons why she kept going at it until one scar became two, and two became four, and so on. After all, why would someone care to count how many lashes a whip can make? Compared to feeling like the world was crumbling around you, bodily pain seemed like a better tradeoff.

Still, amidst all that, there were certain friends that she had, friends that she could rely on. There were her novels, offering her another means of escape from reality; and there were her poems, which allowed her to create lines of a different sort whenever things became too much. With these as well as a combination of luck and circumstances siding with her, she had managed to stay clean. The scars healed, and though they remained on her forearm, there was no reason for her to add any more for a very long time. Some experiences make her grip her arm multiple times, giving her pain, but that had always been enough to remind her not to pick up her knives for that dark task again.

Once things started happening for her anxiety to creep in like weeds in a garden, however, Yuri felt cornered. Normally, when it came to anxiety attacks, people would simply suggest doing something to distract from the worry—a perfect time for her to rely on her poetry and reading, in theory—but they never knew what it was like to feel anxious, to feel as if the entire world was against you. During moments like that, all thoughts about reading or writing would be thrown out of the window as her brain struggled to perceive what to do and who to approach. That was when the blades of her knives began to look like the friendliest things on earth, and the pain that came with it being cathartic, even enlightening to a certain degree.

That brought Yuri back down to earth about why she came to the girls' restroom in the first place. Carefully placing the bloodstained roll of bandages that she had just unfurled atop her knee, she took out the small bottle of alcohol she kept hidden in her skirt's pocket, poured a few drops onto her palm, and quickly braced her forearm in one swift movement. Instantly, pain seared through her entire being, causing her to let out an involuntary gasp as her eyes watered a little. It felt as if large needles were searing into her arm, piercing through her muscles and setting her nerves on fire. Still, the pain gave her solace. It gave her focus. It helped to ease her worries in a way that no essential oil or scented candle or cup of oolong tea ever could.

Just like that, she was done. She rerolled the bandages around her forearm, covered everything with the sleeve of her uniform's blazer, and left the restroom feeling more secure compared to before. Sometimes, it was remarkable how so much can be accomplished within so little time, even where knives were concerned.

When Yuri arrived home later that day, her grandmother was busy raking some fallen leaves in their garden. She looked up when she heard the gate open. "Ah, Granddaughter, how did today's exams go?" she asked her with a smile.

Yuri only had to look back at her little jaunt earlier at the girls' restroom to get a feel of how the exams went. "It w-went well, Grandmother," she replied. "If you need me, I'll be upstairs reviewing at my room, as always."

"Alright, I'll be preparing dinner shortly," said her grandmother. "Watch out for anyone that comes calling, okay? I won't be able to hear them from the kitchen."

"Yes, Grandmother," replied Yuri dutifully.

After she had gotten dressed, she sat down at the foot of her bed with a sigh. Inside the privacy of her room, she was free to look at her scars. She had thrown away the bandages that she had used to wrap them up before, readying up a new roll to use for tomorrow. There was virtually no need for her to keep them wrapped up inside the house, since all Yuri had to do was to wear one of her long-sleeved shirts or sweaters to keep them discreet when she goes downstairs for dinner.

Glancing at each new scar one by one, Yuri's thoughts drifted back to the knives she had used for them. The first, of course, had been the leaf-shaped one that she used during her potentially disastrous study session with Naoki. The second one had been the hunting knife with the cream-colored handle, which had the privilege of easing her anxiety after a particularly stressful and seemingly pointless review session for Mathematics several days ago. The third and most recent one was the kunai-like blade, a tool she used to feel better about not being able to polish her answers for the last quiz they had for Science before exams came. So far, Yuri did not know why she was saving her favorite Damascus steel blade for last, and that brought her to the thought that she might be anticipating another time in the future where she will cut again.

Is this actually an addiction? And am I feeding it? In her mind, it no longer seemed like a matter of if, but rather of when. For a fleeting moment, she felt fear well up in her.

At that moment, a bell rang downstairs. Yuri recognized the tone; it was their house's old brass doorbell, which hung from a sconce next to the front door for people to ring on. Living in one of the city's older houses, her grandmother saw no reason to install an electronic doorbell, not when this one still worked perfectly well and did not rely on electricity or any kind of maintenance at all. Following her grandmother's wishes to listen and look out for any visitors while she was in the kitchen, Yuri went down the stairs to answer the door, imagining that it must be one of the traveling salesmen that often did their door-to-door rounds through town.

The bell rang a second time just as she reached the front door. "Can I help y—" she began as she opened the door a little, but she stopped short as soon as her eyes saw who exactly was ringing the bell.

Naoki stood there, still in his school things; it was evident that he had not gone home yet. He smiled apologetically. "Hello," he said.

"N-Naoki!" gasped Yuri. "What are you doing here?!"

"I just wanted to, you know . . . drop by before I went home."

Yuri looked over her shoulder, checking if her grandmother was coming out of the kitchen. In a way, she was very thankful that the long-sleeved white shirt and black shorts she wore weren't too casual to show in front of Naoki. "Well, w-why didn't you text me?" she asked in a flustered tone, looking back at him.

"I did," replied Naoki, looking a bit surprised. "You didn't reply to any of my messages at dismissal time, though. I'm sorry if, you know, it might've been too straightforward for me to just show up on your doorstep like this without waiting for your reply. . ."

At that, Yuri remembered that she had never looked at her cellphone even once for the entire day. "Oh, don't worry, it's not," she said. "I w-was just a bit preoccupied with a lot of things, so I didn't know you were texting me. Anyway, do you want to come in?"

She opened the door a bit wider, but Naoki shook his head. "No, I won't be staying for too long anyway. If it's alright with you, we can just talk out here."

Yuri looked at the outside of the house nervously, imagining how many people might overhear them talking. Moreover, she was not wearing any bandages for her forearm. Praying to the heavens that her scars had now truly dried out so that Naoki wouldn't notice anything, she replied, "Okay, if y-you insist."

She stepped out of the house, quietly closing the door behind her. Yuri wondered why she was even worried about letting her grandmother know that Naoki had showed up again at their place, but she felt like it was best to just let her be in the kitchen. She led Naoki through the garden and towards a small wooden bench that sat next to one of the house's windows, some distance away from the kitchen. Naoki followed her, and the two of them sat down in silence.

Naoki took off his backpack and placed it down on the garden's grassy floor. "So . . . how are you?" he asked.

Yuri looked at him. "Um, I'm doing fine. W-Why are you asking?"

Naoki sighed. "Well, I'm just worried. The past few days told me that you might not be doing too well. Are you . . . Are you anxious again about something?"

"N-No!" Yuri lied, blurting out the word before she could stop herself. Her hand darted quickly to her forearm almost involuntarily, grasping it briefly and sending pain shooting through her for a moment. All of a sudden, it felt as if she was being cornered into confessing to doing something horrible. A short silence followed her outburst as she realized that, obviously, cornering her was never Naoki's intention. She coughed and looked down, feeling even more nervous now.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean t-to shout like that," she stammered as she let go of her arm. "T-To honestly answer your question . . . y-yes, I've been feeling a bit on edge."

"I see," said Naoki quietly. "It can't be helped. I mean, a lot of us have been on edge ever since exam week rolled in. I just feared that it might be too much on your end, after that one where . . . w-well . . . you know."

Yuri nodded, knowing that he was referring to her episode at their study session. "It's like you said. Things like this do happen. For me, it happened a lot sooner than I anticipated. I d-don't think I've ever felt this anxious about . . . everything."

"Don't worry, I've been through similar feelings and experiences," said Naoki in a comforting tone.

Yuri looked at him. "You have?"

"Yeah," replied Naoki. "I get that it's different between people, but I suppose what I've been through in the past is similar to what you're going through right now. When you've got good grades for a long time, people expect you to be consistent about them. It's never an easy task, but I try to do my best in order to make my parents proud. It doesn't always turn out good, because I end up worrying too much about my grades and stressing myself out over requirements."

"H-How do you cope with that?" asked Yuri.

Naoki shrugged. "I don't know, to be honest. Sometimes, the stress just passes me by, and everything goes back to normal. After that, I just reflect on what I can do in the future so that I wouldn't feel too stressed out if it happened again. I will say this, though; friends are a big help. I've learned that their company can provide a lot of help and relief. That's when I really appreciate Kenta's 'don't-sweat-it' approach to things, and Daisuke's laid-back humor."

Yuri knew exactly what Naoki meant. The get-together they had at Monika's house had been a testament to that. While it was a study session in essence, it had provided a nice way for them all to bust some stress simply by being in each other's company. "Yes, that's why I had a lot of fun as well when we studied with the others at Monika's. To be honest, I thought I'd be d-doing better after that day."

"Don't worry," said Naoki with a smile, "we don't have to wait too long anymore for another get-together like that. Once the exams are over—and that'll be tomorrow—we'll start planning where to go with everyone next. Isn't that nice?"

"It is," said Yuri, attempting to smile. Her anxiousness, however, seemed to outweigh her optimism. What she was anxious about at the moment apart from being in Naoki's presence, she didn't know. "I hope t-to get back on track by then."

Naoki looked at her intently, his smile fading a little. "Don't worry, you will. Just one more day, and we'll finally be done with exams, at least for another month and a half."

Wordlessly, Yuri nodded in reply. "So, how was History earlier? Did you do well?" Naoki asked her.

"I suppose so," said Yuri tentatively. It wasn't the questions that had bothered her so much as her own anxiety did. "I was unsure of some of the answers I wrote for some parts, but there's no point in worrying about them now, not when the exam is over. . ."

"Yeah, it can't be helped," said Naoki. "At least it went better than Math yesterday."

"I agree," Yuri mused. "I just know that I did horribly there. . ."

"Hey, don't say that," Naoki told her. "Maybe you actually did a lot better than you think. Exams tend to do that, you know? You feel like you messed up, but when the papers come back, you'll see that you actually got a good grade."

Yuri sighed. "But that's not always the case, r-right?"

"Well . . . no, it's not," Naoki admitted, sighing as well.

All around them, hues of red began creeping in as the sun started descending. Yuri looked around at her grandmother's well-tended garden, taking in the green grass, the pruned shrubs, and the single tree that stood over everything else, its leaves decreasing in number as autumn endured. On a better day, such imagery would have provided her inspiration for some poetry, but she was making lines of a different kind nowadays.

When the silence had stretched on for a bit too long, Naoki stood up. "Well, I have to go," he said. "We still have some last reviewing left to do, am I right?"

That brought Yuri crashing back down to earth. Somehow, the short minutes she spent with Naoki helped provide a distraction from her worries, something she didn't immediately notice. "T-Thank you for coming over, Naoki. I appreciate your company—and your concern too," she said, standing up as well.

"It was nothing," said Naoki, grinning. "Just tell me w—"

The smile on his face suddenly vanished as his brow furrowed. "What's that?" he asked, pointing at her arm.

Yuri looked down, wondering what he was looking at. Her eyes widened in shock, however, when she saw that there were faint bloodstains in the shape of lines on the fabric of her sleeve. They weren't that many to begin with, but given that her shirt was pure white, their dark red color stood out glaringly.

"I-It's nothing!" Yuri cried out, quickly covering the stains with her right hand. "They're just stains f-from some ink that I have upstairs!"

Naoki frowned. "I see," he said. But before he could say anything else, Yuri cut across him.

"I-I have to go!" she blurted out, her face burning up as she bowed her head.

Without waiting for a reply, she went full-tilt back inside the house, closing the door hastily behind her. Instead of immediately going up to her room, though, Yuri pressed her back against the front door, as if Naoki would come in at any moment to break it down and ask her again about what he saw. She cursed her involuntary reaction earlier—surely it was the way she grabbed at her forearm so suddenly that caused her scars to split open and leak a little blood onto her sleeve. She had done so before many times, but of course, that was when she had no fresh scars to worry about.

Carefully, as if any move she made might alert anyone to her presence, Yuri peered over her shoulder, breathing shallowly. Naoki could still be outside for all she knew, and there would be no doubt that he found the stains he saw odd, even with the feeble excuse she gave in an effort to cover them up. It was all in vain. No matter what, from now on, Naoki would definitely have an idea as to what exactly she was up to—or at the very least, he would sense that something was up. His perception of her was bound to be affected.

It had to be him. It just had to be him. What am I going to do now? Yuri's heart felt as if it would tear free from her chest at any moment. She panted, her breath growing shorter with every passing second. Pressing a hand against her heart, she began to feel utterly dizzy. In her agitated state, as best as she could manage, she made her way back to her room upstairs. Wringing her hands together to the point where her fingers felt as if they would break, she hastily closed the door and sat down on her bed, looking at the bloodstains on her arm once again. She didn't dare to look at her phone or outside the window, sensing that Naoki might not have left yet. This time, no impending exam or quiz held any more fear for her; Naoki's changed perception of her was what made her anxiety skyrocket now.

Yuri stood up and walked towards the drawer where her collection was. It was an optimal time for her Damascus steel knife to begin its work. As dirty as she felt, there was no other way.

Naoki closed the door of his room in silence. Setting aside his backpack on a nearby chair, he took off his eyeglasses and rubbed his eyes wearily. He knew that there was still work to be done indeed for tonight. A quick dinner, and then it would be crunch time for the last day of the exams.

Or that was the original plan anyway, before what he saw at Yuri's place made him think.

Ink stains. Naoki mused on that thought, but he couldn't just settle for it as simple as that. For one thing, Yuri's reaction had been extremely sudden and eccentric, even as Naoki knew that she can be rather abrupt in certain situations whenever she speaks her mind or overly worries about what she might have said or done. For another, the stains themselves looked remarkably like blood; both from experience—with rough sports games or little accidents at home—and from some of the rougher fights Kenta had gotten into at middle school with him and Daisuke as witnesses, Naoki knew what blood looked like against fabric.

Perhaps Yuri had indeed been using red ink and got some accidentally on her sleeve. Perhaps she had an accident with one of the knives from her collection while she was cleaning them. Perhaps those were different stains altogether—essential oils, possibly. But through it all, Naoki kept sensing that something was just off. Yuri was definitely the type of person that would get agitated when asked about certain things, but her agitation for the past few days was different, even for her, and it had taken a huge leap after he noticed those curious little red stains. Inwardly, he felt bad that he might have worsened Yuri's day after all by coming over, and he couldn't help but be worried.

As the evening continued on, Naoki found himself focusing on too many things at once. He ate his dinner with a distracted gaze, often missing the food that he was putting into his mouth. His mother, who seemed to have noticed this, set down her chopsticks and looked at him concernedly from across the table.

"Is something bothering you, Naoki?" she asked.

Naoki looked up, sighing. "Just the exams tomorrow, Mom," he lied.

"Oh, that explains it," said his mother. "Are you straining yourself again?"

"Not really," replied Naoki. "It's just one of those days, you know?"

His mother scoffed a little. "It's why I keep telling you to go out and have some fun every once in a while. I know that you're working hard for that high school diploma and, eventually, for college. Still, it's not a crime to take a break from school, you know? Besides, your grades have always been fine."

Naoki shook his head, laughing a little. "Sometimes, you just remind me of my buddies, Mom. Don't worry, I know that. There are just some things that I can't stop thinking about sometimes."

"Like that classmate you've told us about before?" asked his mother, raising her eyebrows. "That Hoshino girl?"

"You could at least say her name, Mom," said Naoki. "It's Yuri."

"If memory serves me correctly, she's the one who gave you some of those books in your room, right?" she asked.

"Yes, Mom," said Naoki, sighing as he knew what was coming.

His mother shrugged. "Right, well, it's a bit of a surprise, isn't it? I mean, you don't even go out that much, even with your friends, and suddenly you have a girlfriend who—"

"Mom, I'll tell you what I told Kenta and Daisuke before—she's not my girlfriend, okay?" said Naoki. Even as he said those words, though, he imagined the profoundly intimate relationship he had with Yuri. "At least, I wouldn't call it that. I mean, we did go out a few times before, but—"

"In this day and age, 'going out a few times' can translate into already having a girlfriend or boyfriend," his mother stated. "Very different from the time when your father and I were young, let me tell you. There's nothing wrong with that, though. On the contrary, I'm happy that you've found a girl that you wish to date and all that."

Naoki shook his head. "Whatever you say, Mom," he said amusedly.

Later that night, rifling through the pages of his notes and comparing them to some paragraphs in his school books, Naoki still could not get the worry out of his head. Granted, he was doing well enough at blocking it out for now so he can focus to the task at hand, but it lingered still at the back of his mind. Obviously, texting Yuri to check on her was out of the question—she might also be reviewing, or perhaps she did not want to be disturbed, not after what happened earlier. Compounding this, Naoki also began pondering on what would follow once the exams were over. Would Yuri start feeling better? Would today's events affect the approaching get-together that Monika and Kenta were planning for everyone? Would they force Yuri to back out from coming along?

Running his hand through his hair, Naoki let out a resigned sigh, knowing that he would just have to wait and see.

As she watched the blood trickle down from her arm to mar the smooth porcelain surface of the bathroom's sink, Yuri felt much better. After all, wasn't it always like that? A quick cut, breathe, another swipe, breathe, rinse and repeat. It seemed systematic now, as if she was doing something as routine as brushing her teeth or washing her face. The steel was always a shock at first because of how cold it was, but when the pain started searing and drowned out that metallic chill, no sensation seemed to match the relief it gave. To Yuri, it felt as if she was doing things right, keeping them under control.

Dinner passed by without much incident. Yuri had done her best to bandage her arm tightly to prevent a rehash of what happened earlier with Naoki, even if she knew that her grandmother's eyesight was no longer good enough for her to spot a hint of her scars. Instead of eating quite a bit, she had focused on drinking water instead, as her stomach felt like it would not be able to keep any eaten food down for too long.

When the time for reviewing came, Yuri did her best to focus, to direct her worry towards her books and notebooks. No more oolong tea or diffused aromas for tonight; after Naoki's visit earlier, they only reminded her of things that she did not want to think about. Still, no matter how hard she tried, the anxiety never left. It lingered, like a dog scratching against a house's door, or like leftover malaise from a fever.

Now, here she was. Yuri took a deep breath, staring at her forearm. The lines glistened under the bathroom's light. Definitely not the first ones, and definitely not the last.

No other way.