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When Kisaki first drew a razor blade to his skin, hard enough to bleed, deep enough to scar, it felt a bit ridiculous.
He's only had the most confidence in his plans, but cutting himself felt so out of character for him, and seeing it in person made him wonder if Hina would even buy it. They've been dating since middle school, so she knows what he's like and she might even call his bluff. But Kisaki decided to trust himself, just like he always has, and left a couple more cuts, that way it'd seem like it hadn't just started.
It was a gamble, and a successful one. She saw them during movie night at his place, peeking out from under his shorts, red and bumpy and begging to be noticed.
Hina looked so cute when she saw them, her eyes growing large and glassy as her attention turned fully to him. He could tell she struggled to point them out, didn't want to be rude, but in the end she asked. And then she held his hand and cried and told him she loved him so many times, hugged her arms around his neck and kissed him and told him she'd always be there for him. It's the kind of treatment Kisaki had been craving from her, the way she acted when Kisaki and only Kisaki was on her mind.
It worked wonders. She hadn't mentioned wanting to hang out with her friends for a month. For a little while, Kisaki thought maybe he'd overestimated the issue and just a few scars were enough to trap her. But not long after, she told him that she wouldn't be able to go on a date with him, since she'd be hanging out with some middle school friends that weekend, friends Kisaki didn't even know.
In hindsight, Kisaki can see how his actions began out of jealousy and selfishness; he’d allow Hina to hang out with her friends or cancel on their usual plans only to see him again with more cuts on his thighs. Steadily, it wore her down, and that's when she began to hint at worse things. At needing space, or outright not even being in the mood to spend time with her own boyfriend.
It was around that time the scars started moving to his arms, where she could always see them and where they could always remind her of who she needed to be with.
To add to that, Kisaki would text her before bed, telling her how thankful he was to have someone like her in his life, how he wouldn't know what to do without her, how he isn't sure what he'd be like without her. Some of it was true, but most of it was to drill into her brain how much they needed each other. Make their future the last thing she'd imagine before bed.
There were easier ways to ensure she stays, but Kisaki would hate to resort to hurting anyone else. Hina might not forgive him if he did. His goal isn't to have her hate him.
These sorts of things occupy Kisaki’s mind all the time, until the moment Hina is smiling at him and everything feels right.
As he opens the door for her when she knocks, his worries seem to fade away as she enters, letting him help her out of her jacket and kiss her on the head.
“I missed you,” Kisaki tells her, even if it's not quite the truth. Having her is all that matters, whether she's physically beside him or not, and it’s what she does when he's not around that makes Kisaki anxious.
“It hasn't even been a day,” Hina giggles, giving him a kiss on the cheek in return.
“That's long enough,” Being sappy doesn't exactly come naturally to him, but it makes Hina smile. And Kisaki, admittedly, enjoys it, too.
If only she didn't insist on doing things her own way, everything would be perfect. Kisaki wouldn't have to harm himself to manipulate her and Hina wouldn't have to feel guilty every time she sees the scars he made for her.
They only make it about an hour into studying before Hina picks up her phone and smiles.
“Can't you even spend time with me for one night without texting someone else?”
“What?” Hina scoffs, to her own detriment.
“It better not be who I think it is,” Kisaki glares at her phone which is set face down.
Her expression contorts into an annoyed pout before she can reply, “I'm not cheating on you with Takemichi! You know that!”
It’s true, she wouldn't be able to hide something like that from Kisaki, but that’s hardly his point right now, when every moment alone with Hina is so fragile and precious, “Then why are you texting him?”
“Because he's my friend! And he's yours, too!”
“Can't we just have one night where it's just us two? I don't spend my time texting Hanma when I'm with you.”
“I wouldn't care if you did,” Hina retorts, starting to raise her voice.
But Kisaki makes sure that he remains louder, “You would if it was every time. That's not the point anyway,” He sighs, thumb grazing over his wrist just to see her eyes look down, to make sure he's got her attention, “I always put you first.”
Hina’s pouted lips begin to tremble and the anger in her eyes grows dim, “Tetta…”
“You're all I have, Hinata. I don't have lots of friends like you do. You know Takemichi only tolerates me and Hanma is… Hanma,” Kisaki runs his thumb over his bumpy scars, looking down at them instead of at Hina, “Don't you get how that feels for me? To see you always texting him even when you're with me?”
Hina’s face turns a splotchy sort of red that makes it clear she's close to crying, and yet she still has the strength to take a deep breath and give Kisaki a stern look, “You're being unfair,” she breathes out.
Normally, Kisaki would accept that, trek on through their date and then let her leave, let her find out herself another day just how dangerous her defiance is. But something about her expression makes him skip that part. He doesn't want to wait, he doesn't want to hide it from her. If she's going to blatantly ignore his pain, she can just watch it in person.
“I'm unfair? You seriously think that?” Kisaki questions her, finally looking up only for her to look away with no response. “Fine. Then I'm the unfair one,” he grumbles, storming away from the table and forcing her to follow, calling after him in desperation now that she's too late.
She's already in tears by the time they reach the bathroom, sobbing once he retrieves a razor blade from his drawer. It feels unnatural to take it out in front of her, to pretend like it's been anything but a tool to keep her in place.
“You want to see how it feels for me?” Kisaki asks, hand shaking in excitement, waving the razor before him, the idea of her watching him cut himself somehow appealing to him, “What it's like to always have people disregard me? Even the person closest to me?” Kisaki isn't too bothered by his childhood, the bullying or being misunderstood. But he knows Hina is.
“Tetta, please don't-” she sniffles, taking a wobbly step towards him, “We don't have to do this.”
Kisaki wishes that were true, and he wishes that people like Takemichi wouldn't keep getting in the way of his and Hina’s relationship. Or that Hina’s friends didn't talk badly about him. He wishes that it didn't feel like the world was against him any time things started to go his way.
Pressing the razor against his skin, tears pricking reflexively at his eyes and immediately the metal hits the floor, Hina’s arms frantically hugging him and wiping her tears and trying to find something to patch him up all at once.
—
Hina can't remember the last time things between her and Kisaki could be considered good — maybe back in middle school, when being boyfriend and girlfriend just meant going on short dates together and blushing while holding hands. But things have gotten much more complicated since then, as they always seem to with Kisaki. Hina will always care for him, but it's gotten to the point where his needs always take priority over hers. It's exhausting, even if she knows he can't help it.
She stares up at her ceiling as she lies in bed, pushing away every thought telling her that Kisaki is a burden, that she doesn't want to be with him anymore. She pushes them away because the thought of what would happen if she did leave him is much more haunting than any of her loveless thoughts.
Hina closes her eyes, wishing for sleep and wishing she didn't feel such dread at the thought of walking to school with her own boyfriend tomorrow morning.
—
In all honesty, Hanma never expected Kisaki and Hina to last this long. He thought Kisaki’s obsession would run its course and he'd get bored, that he'd find something else to engross himself in, some other way to prove himself and some other person to take advantage of.
But Kisaki is about to graduate high school now and they're still together, and Kisaki still seems happy in his own creepy way. Over the years, it's become less entertaining and more stressful for Hanma, watching his best friend destroy himself just so he won't lose some plain girl he fell for in elementary school.
Kisaki always insists that this isn't the case. Because he isn't depressed and he isn't suicidal and everything he does is to keep Hina under his thumb, to keep her from ruining her life with another man and fading into mediocrity, because no one else can see her worth like Kisaki can. It's an idea that almost makes Hanma a little excited until he sees the actual results of it.
Kisaki wears short sleeves in the comfort of his own home, away from the usual prying, judgmental eyes of people around him. The marks mean nothing to him and it makes Hanma feel sick. Kisaki is too proud to ever kill himself, but even Hanma isn't sure how far he'll take it. He isn't sure even Kisaki understands how hysterical he's acting, even if he claims it's all fake.
He's got cuts running all the way up his left arm now, a few of them old and most of them new, bandaged in one place but the rest being shown off like it's a genius plan, like they’re the fruit of his labor.
“Can you quit staring? You're making us lose,” Kisaki rolls his eyes and gestures to his TV, where Hanma’s mindless button-mashing is causing them to quickly be overrun by enemies.
Kisaki isn't much good at video games on his own. “Haven't you made your point already?” he grumbles, looking back at the screen to stop Kisaki's character from dying.
“Hinata isn't that simple,” Kisaki says, leaning forward now that he can get more into the game with Hanma’s help, “If I let her get comfortable then she’ll think it's not a big deal anymore.”
It's unnerving how matter-of-factly Kisaki talks about cutting himself. And Hanma never thought he'd get so attached to the guy that Kisaki would start to scare him as much as he amuses him.
“There's still other ways,” Hanma pouts, letting his hands move slowly so that he can watch Kisaki grit his teeth and struggle to fight by himself again, “Cutting yourself is stupid.”
“Exactly,” Kisaki replies, voice strained as he tries not to die in-game, “It's all about attention-seeking, but nice people like Hinata don't understand that. That's why it- damn it! Hanma!” Kisaki groans and drops his controller in his lap, turning to glare at his friend, “That's why it works so well. Hurry up and revive me!”
“You suck at this,” Hanma mumbles, dropping the subject. It's not like arguing with Kisaki has ever gained him anything. It's no wonder Hina stays with him. Going against him is worse.
—
Hina gets home from work at around 5:30 in the evening every day, which is earlier than Kisaki by about thirty minutes. Normally, she’ll either cook them dinner, order them takeout, or go by the store so that she and Kisaki can cook together when he gets home. But it’s 6:15 p.m. now, and Kisaki is home and his girlfriend is not.
In fact, it's only thirty-two minutes later when Kisaki finally finds out where she is. Through a text message, no less. She doesn't even have the decency to call him. Kisaki picks up his phone to discover that she'd run into a friend during her walk home and decided to go out for a drink with them.
And that she’d be home in a couple hours.
If that's how she's going to be, Kisaki will just have a drink tonight, too.
Kisaki’s short responses to her text had definitely set off alarm bells, but Hina ignored them in favor of having a night to herself. She loves Kisaki, she loves their date nights, but being with him constantly is suffocating. He's so intelligent and self-assured, Hina doesn't think anyone would believe her if she told them how dependent on her he is.
For a while she thought it was normal — couples like them do everything together, right? But when she saw people like Emma and Draken, so head over heels in love, doing things on their own, spending time apart, slowly Hina became more fed up. Why can't she and Kisaki be like that?
Hina enters their apartment quietly, preparing herself for whatever storm is to come as she hears the television on low volume. The lights are off save for the main kitchen light, and she can hear the faint sloshing of liquid but she can't see Kisaki.
“Tetta?” she calls, setting her purse on the counter, “I'm home. Have you eaten yet?” Kisaki doesn't answer, and Hina tiptoes closer to their couch, as if being any louder could set him off.
When she looks over the back of the couch, Hina represses a sigh at the sight of her partner curled up, sitting on the floor with an empty bottle on the ground and another half full one in his hands. “Welcome back,” he grumbles, pressing the bottle to his lips but not sipping from it.
Hina pauses before walking around to crouch beside him. She lets out a deep sigh, her disappointment with him transparent. Usually she tries to hide it so as not to upset him, but she really is disappointed. He'd been doing better. “How much have you had to drink tonight?” she asks.
“What’s it matter to you?” Kisaki mumbles against the bottle, finally taking another drink and jerking it away as Hina tries to take it, “You don't have to act like you care.”
“You know I care,” Hina says as she has thousands of times before, sitting on her legs so she can talk to him properly.
“Yeah, right. I bet you wish I'd just go ahead and drink myself to death,” he accuses. His eyes are unfocused, too far gone to even attempt a rational conversation. Hina suspects he's had more than she can see, judging by how much he's slurring and his head that can't stop lolling to the side.
“That isn't true.”
Kisaki doesn't answer, dizzy eyes staring determinedly at the TV.
“Tetta, I'm worried about you. That's all.”
“Only ‘cause you feel obligated to,” Kisaki huffs, “I may as well just go ahead and kill myself, maybe then you'd actually love me again.”
He's like a child throwing a tantrum, but the stakes are much higher than with the kids Hina works with. She's heard the same threats so long that her heart no longer sinks and her eyes no longer well with tears.
Deep down, Hina knows he's not far from the truth. Sometimes she imagines how much easier her life would be if he were gone, if she didn't have to tend to every unreasonable emotion he pushes on her with the excuse that that's what partner’s do. She imagines that if Kisaki really were dead, she'd be able to remember all the things she loves about him instead of all the things she hates, the things that scare her.
“Tetta-”
“Shuddup,” Kisaki slurs, slowly and dizzily pushing himself up, “I know you don't want that. Who'd spend all their money on you if I died?” He lets out a bitter chuckle as he finally stands up, leaning heavily on the couch arm as he straightens his back. He takes a step forward and stumbles, every step shaky on his wobbly legs as he makes his way to the bathroom, Hina following closely behind him. The last thing he ever actually wants is for her to leave him alone.
“Tetta? Are you okay?” Hina asks as she hurries to his side where he nearly falls into the sink.
“Fuck, I'm fucking fine,” he groans, his face pale, head swaying back and forth.
Hina gently grabs his shoulders, “Here, sit down, okay?” she whispers, carefully guiding him down until he's on his knees in front of the toilet.
Quickly, he grabs onto the sides of the toilet, lips parted and breathing heavy. “Hinata,” he whines before the nausea finally hits him, his body lurching as he vomits. Hina rubs his back for him, numb to the sight of his violent gagging, him pausing only to complain about how much he hates drinking.
Hina sits with him the whole time, the ever loving girlfriend she is, rubbing his back and telling him it'll be okay while he sobs and throws up everything he had to drink that night.
When he's finally done, Kisaki lays his arm across the toilet seat, laying his head on top of his arm. He looks at Hina, exhausted, eyes red from crying, panting heavily from the effort, “I'm so sorry, baby,” he whimpers in a hoarse voice, “You think I'm awful, right? I know you wish I’d just die.”
Kisaki has always been a pathetic drunk. They say your true self comes out when you drink, and seeing him like this, Hina believes it. It's like he's still just an insecure little boy at heart, like all his confidence is just an act. But Hina knows Kisaki best, and she knows that's not quite the case. She knows his ego is huge and she knows that he's got every right to be confident with all he's accomplished. She's surprised he isn't more arrogant given it all.
Hina also knows that Kisaki has no idea how dependent he is. How every success is only as good as Hina makes it.
Hina doesn't think he's awful. He just does awful things. It's not like it's totally his fault, not when people used to treat him so cruelly and judge him too quick when they were young.
Holding his hand firmly in both of hers, Hina forces a smile when she looks at him, “I don't think those things, Tetta.”
Weakly, he squeezes her hand back, “Please don't leave me, okay? You won't, right? I couldn't handle it.” Kisaki usually says worse things when he's drunk, when he gets stressed and lets every intrusive thought come to light. Luckily, he seems clingy tonight.
“I won't.”
This time, a strained smile pulls at Kisaki’s face as he stares at her like she's the most wonderful person in the world. It used to be flattering. It still sort of is. “I love you, Hinata,” he hums.
The words are so hard to repeat on days like this, but Hina manages, “I love you, too. Let's get to bed, okay?”
Hina’s eyes flutter open and her nose twitches to the smell of coffee brewing, and she reaches out her arm to find that she’s alone in bed. It being the weekend, she takes her time rolling out of bed, stretching out her arms before she brushes her hair and changes out of her shirt, then out of her pants, opting for clothes just as comfy as her pajamas.
When she finally wanders into their kitchen, she finds Kisaki standing tall as he finishes making them
both a large cup of coffee, the dark bags under his eyes the only sign of a hangover.
“Are you feeling okay?” Hina asks, concerned he may be pushing himself.
Kisaki looks up and gives her a smile, “I'm fine, I took something for it an hour ago,” he says, handing her her coffee mug and sipping on his own, “I was thinking, why don't we go out today?”
Hina doesn't quite understand how Kisaki can act so pleasant in the morning — he hates getting out of bed and the sleepiness is always so apparent in his voice. “Go out? Where to?” Hina doesn't much feel like going out after last night, but this is always Kisaki’s solution to their issues, and Kisaki’s way goes.
“Maybe a day trip to the beach? It’s cool out so it should feel good today. If we leave in two hours we could be back by the time it's dark. And I'll take you shopping — you haven't bought any outfits for work in a while, right? We could go to the aquarium there, too, like we did when we were in high school,” Kisaki sounds like he's already planned the whole day for them, which usually means it's already been decided.
Hina feels a twinge of guilt at the thought. Perhaps this is just Kisaki’s way of making things up to her. He loves planning dates that he's sure she'll enjoy.
“Okay, that sounds nice,” Hina replies, “Are you sure you're feeling up to it?”
This time, Kisaki leans forward to kiss Hina’s forehead, then wraps his free arm behind her neck to pull her into a hug, “Of course I am. It's impossible to feel bad when I'm with you.”
Hina isn't sure whether to feel guilty or angry. In the end, it's easier to feel nothing, to do nothing, because that's what seems to keep Kisaki happy.
“I'm sorry for how I acted last night,” he continues, a sad smile forming on his lips, his hand gliding down to grab hers, “It must be hard to love me sometimes, right? I'll do better, and I'll keep trying to make it up to you.”
Unsure what to say, Hina stares up at him with damp eyes, her grip on his hands tightening and her chest getting tight, “You're not hard to love, Tetta,” she finally says, "I’m… I'll keep trying to do better, too, okay?”
Kisaki's shoulders lose their tension and he lifts her hand to kiss. He would be lost without her.
Just like when they were children, she was the only one to understand him, to ever try.
What kind of person would she be to take that from him again?