Work Text:
Fuck
What's going on with him, his recent shows have been going so wrong. Even with the others, he doesn't belong. He stands out so much with the rest. His lazy excuses of singing fall flat beside the others.
Even in solo shows, his performance quality keeps getting worse. What the hell is going on with him. It's not like he has stopped trying, he has been working harder even. Fuck what the hell what the hell
23:00
Akito isn't asleep yet, he can't sleep. He feels so exhausted but to the point he can't sleep.
He needs to keep going. To improve further. Something weird is going on. He wants to get better like the rest but something is holding him back. He wants to surpass RAD WEEKEND but. That fire in his chest is fading. That spark he has always had for singing is getting smaller and smaller.
Why now. He needs to be better, he can't get better when he is losing motivation to try. He can't afford to rest, he needs to continue. He needs to move foward. Fuck
These thoughts take a toll on Akito. His head is aching more as that numbness takes over his body again. His mind begging for him to keep going as all his motion grinds to a halt. How should he keep going on like this.
He isnt like Ena. He doesn't want to be like Ena.
Ena explodes. When upset or frustrated, her anger makes her lash out to anything and anyone nearby. She damages everything outside of her in order to relieve herself.
Akito implodes. When upset or frustrated, his feelings combine inside him into a mix of nothing and everything. He can't bother to cry and scream out his pains. He can only mull around and think while his feelings sit inside, disrupting him at every moment. He damages himself, in order to understand and move foward.
Fuck he doesn't want to sit still. The numbness is eating him alive. His limbs feel stiff and his hands are shaking. He needs to get up. He needs to do more and more. He needs to start soon.
He hugs his pillow in an attempt to end this aching. It serves him temporary warmth. Thoughts of surpassing the limits and getting better race through his mind. He can't fucking do shit now. He feels paralysed, stuck in stone. He needs to continue on, he must
He holds onto his pillow more. He feels even worse. His own body is now just sabotaging him at this point. He needs to end this feeling of nothingness. He needs to start
Akito lets go and frantically grabs the cutter on his bedstand, hidden behind the picture frame. This is the only way
The cutter opens and pierces into his skin
Akito winces a bit as red drips out from his wrist. It stings so bad but. The numbness is leaving. That's good
Another mark, more red. He can't see the blood coming out. All that matters is he feels something. He just needs to feel anything else. Anything but that numbness hindering him from moving.
Another mark. He can't stop now, motivation pumps through his veins. He feels so ready. It's addicting. He doesn't care about anything else right now. That sharp feeling of pain is so much better than the emptiness. That aching reminder that he is human. After all, something is better than nothing, right?
Another mark. Fuck.
Sudden pain rushes out
Akito winces again as he drops the cutter. This one is different than the previous ones.
He turns on his bed lamp. Oh. This cut looks especially deep. The blood from this one was particularly bad, leaving a trail while staining his bedsheets and clothes. Fuck he really needs to clean this up now.
Akito feels nothing looking at the cuts. He has done this too many times already. He is used to being cut and scratched, whether by Ena or himself. No one ever thinks that hard when they see the scars the next day. Just some unfortunate accident, they think to themselves.
This is just the price Akito has to pay, the only way he can keep going. His path to the future, his show of determination for music, built of scars carved by metal.
He gets up then scrubs his bedsheets with wetwipes. Changing his clothes and cleaning up his blood again like the usual. Its routine. He doesn't want to sneak off to the bathroom this late at night, his sister will catch him with how late she stays up. Just need to get this routine over with so he can go back to sleep again and keep on doing music like always.
With all the steps done, he sighs of relief. He feels better now. Ready to pursue music and move foward again. This process is just a small side mission he has to do from time to time anyways. He hides the cutter away, turns off his bedside lamp and drifts of into an empty dream.