Work Text:
When Yusuke was 14, one of the older pupils gave him a pocket knife because they thought Yusuke would like the design on the handle, and hey a pocket knife could probably come in handy, right?
As Yusuke sits in the dark and turns over the knife in his hands, he knows this probably isn’t what they meant.
It had started as a little thing. The occasional thought whenever he picked up the knife that with something this sharp, it probably wouldn’t take much to cut himself. Maybe he should just press his palm to the blade and see.
Then, as months passed, they changed from cutting his palm a little to his shoulders or the back of his leg. Not the obvious spot, because despite it all Yusuke didn’t actually want to die.
Then he met the Phantom Thieves and made friends and there were things to drown out the voice. He didn’t think about the knife that he’d buried at the bottom of a box of old trinkets and shoved in the back of his closet unless he was alone. It was manageable.
Most of the time.
Because tonight, for whatever reason, the voice was unbearable. There was just so much going on. There was a bounty on their heads and they were dangling Ren as bait and Yusuke needed a way to release the tension so he returned to the dorm, and immediately dug the knife out of the closet and now he’s sitting on the floor and thinking about which spots will bleed the least.
He traces the pattern on the handle with his thumb and pulls out his phone.
What is the safest place to cut myself? , he types, because he still wants to protect his friends and save victims so he wants to be sure he doesn’t mess up and put himself out of commission. Because despite it all, Yusuke doesn’t actually want to die.
He just needs to release all this pressure that’s built up in the pit of his chest, and he’s been thinking about it for years. This will work. It has to.
Yusuke’s about to hit the first link when his phone starts ringing. It’s Futaba.
“What the fuck , Inari?” are the first words out of her mouth. She sounds like she’s crying.
Yusuke drops the knife and stands up. “Futaba, is something wrong?”
“Is something wrong? Is something- what’s wrong is you’re trying to-”
“Futaba. Futaba, calm down. I need you to breathe for me, alright?” Yusuke says. “If you hold on I’ll call Ren and-”
“The problem isn’t me, you idiot, you were planning on cutting yourself!”
Yusuke blinks. “How do you-”
“I set up your phones to ping me whenever you try to search stuff like that.” Futaba says.
“You can do that?” Yusuke says, and then adds “That’s a gross invasion of privacy.”
“I’m not looking at all your stuff.” Futaba says. “It’s just. Look I know how it feels and I got worried that if one of you started feeling the same way I did and I didn’t notice I wouldn’t forgive myself and-”
“Futaba, breathe. It’s fine. I’m fine I’m not thinking about things like that.” Yusuke says. “I’m not-” Yusuke sighs. It’s difficult to explain in a way that Futaba won’t blow out of proportion. “I’m not planning on doing any real damage, I’ll be fine” is what Yusuke settles on.
That, apparently, does not calm Futaba down. “I’m sending Ren over,” she says.
“You don’t have to do that.” Yusuke says. “Please Futaba, just because I’m bad at explaining it doesn’t mean you have to wake him up.”
“Yusuke, please I know how easy it is to make bad things sound convincing.” Futaba’s starting to sound calmer at least. “But it’s not worth it, it’ll just get worse.”
“You don’t know that.” Yusuke says. “I’m not like you were, I’ll be fine.”
“No. Yusuke, you won’t.”