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Looking back on his day, Kenma realized it wasn't completely awful. True, he had felt too depressed to even bother going to school for the first half of the day, but it's not like he hadn't gone at all. He made it in time for the very end of lunch and the last of his classes that day.
He remembered waking up, and instead of standing up and putting on some clothes, he just lay in bed, letting sleep take over him. Unfortunately that sleep only lasted for about an hour which, in all honesty, wasn’t adequate. He’d hoped to at least sleep until 10:00, but some things just don’t work out quite like they should.
Memories of the night before also made their way into his mind. It wasn’t an eventful night, hardly even worth remembering. He’d gone out in the woods with Kuroo, took a few pictures of the forest, then headed back home and went to bed, skipping a healthy meal as usual. Right before Kuroo had arrived at his house he had taken a pocket knife to his hip, but that wasn’t all that eventful either. It hadn’t been a very exciting night.
Kenma’s thoughts were all out of order, which was maybe normal, or just a side affect of being constantly depressed, he wasn’t sure which. However, when they flitted back to that morning, an unsettling frown graced his face. It wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone that wasn’t close to him, which made him glad Kuroo wasn’t around.
He wished he had slept until 10:00 that morning like he’d planned. There probably wouldn’t be a purposeful cut on his wrist and an accidental one on his thumb. He’d only been testing the blade, or that’s what he wanted to believe. Maybe the cut on his wrist wasn’t just a “test” to see how sharp it was, but the one across the pad of his thumb truly was a mistake.
Shortly after waking up, he’d looked over at his desk, noticed a two sided pencil sharpener, and decided to take the blade off the side he didn’t use very often. That way, it wouldn’t be missed since it was hardly ever used. He kept the screw that had held it in place anyways. For all he knew, he might need that side of his sharpener one day, or at the very least he may need to put the blade back on if Kuroo came over sometime to study. These were just things he told himself, though. It was all for nothing, keeping the screw, because he knew deep down that there was no way he would be returning the blade to the sharpener.
The blade was filthy, seeing as he’d used the pencil sharpener a few time before, and Kenma wasn’t stupid. He didn’t want to risk getting any infections and having to tell someone how he got the cuts causing said infection, and so, to avoid any risks, he went straight to the bathroom, closed the door and locked it, and went to the sink to wash it up.
The water was really hot, nearly hot enough to burn his hands, but he didn’t bother turning the cold water up. He was pretty sure hot water did something to get rid of germs anyways, so he figured it couldn’t hurt. Unfortunately it did hurt. It hurt his thumb, that is. That’s how he ended up with a little cut across the pad of his thumb. The water had suddenly jumped a few degrees, causing him to flinch, accidentally cutting his thumb. It happened so quickly, and to anyone that wasn’t accustomed to the stinging sensation of a fresh cut they would have been confused and looked down to find the source of the pain, but Kenma knew what it was. The soap he’d been using to wash the blade had gotten in the wound, explaining why the sting was more noticeable than usual.
Of course it had peaked his curiosity when this happened. He was curious as to how sharp the blade really was, or maybe he just needed to do it, but he gently placed the sharp edge to the skin of his wrist and slid it across. He didn’t need to use even half the pressure as when he used his pocket knife, and he found it oddly satisfying, how easily it cut his skin. He wasn’t psychotic, just a little bit depressed, and this seemed to be something that finally went right for him. It was something dark, but it still was something that made him feel like the world was still on his side, at least just a little.
Ignoring the persistent urge to cut more, Kenma headed to his room to get ready for what was left of the day. He still had about three hours before he had to head to school, so he decided to get some homework done, some homework that was due at least a week before he even looked at it. He’d stopped caring about a month ago, but since there was time to spare he figured he may as well get something done.
He never got around to actually finishing any homework, but he didn’t give two shits. He was just glad the two hours had passed by without him adding more regretful marks to his skin.
____
When Kenma arrived at school he was greeted by Kuroo’s warm embrace and Lev’s questioning eyes. He’d been showing up to school late increasingly often in the last few months, and Lev never let him pass without giving him trouble about it. He meant it all as a joke, of course, but Kenma would be lying if he said it didn’t bother him.
That frown that visited his face earlier that day was back, and while Lev didn’t notice, Kuroo certainly did. Kenma loved that Kuroo was observant enough to notice the little things; it made him feel more appreciated and the slightest bit more loved. However, he also hated that about Kuroo because it wasn’t long before Kuroo spotted the fresh cut on his wrist. Before he could say anything, though, the bell rang and Lev was leaving with a loud farewell to go to his math class. Kuroo, on the other hand, stayed with him because he had his next class with Kenma.
On their way to class Kenma didn’t speak, and Kuroo only said one thing, “I love you.”
Kenma knew he said it for reassurance, and as a promise that he would listen when Kenma needed to vent. Kenma was grateful for it and simply replied with a whispered, “Thank you.”
They intertwined their fingers and made their way to class, splitting apart to go to their respective seats. Seeing as they sat all the way across the room from each other, they couldn’t really talk during class, but Kenma could see that Kuroo was itching to speak with him. He was afraid he might flood him with questions about his newly visible cut, but somewhere deep inside his heart he knew Kuroo would never do that. Kuroo never did anything to make Kenma uncomfortable and Kenma always made sure to express his gratitude in words and kisses.
Normally on a day like this, Kenma would want to talk to someone, to let everything out, but today, for some odd reason, all he wanted to do was to go home. So after school ended, he rushed out the door.
As soon as he got home, however, he felt the urge to talk to Kuroo. He texted Kuroo almost immediately, but Kuroo must have been busy because he didn’t reply for at least thirty minutes, if not forty-five, and by that time Kenma noticed a sudden numbness had washed over him. It was strange when this happened; it didn’t happen very often, but when it did he was always confused by it. He wasn’t happy, he knew that for a fact, but he wasn’t sad either. He was just numb.
Whenever Kenma started feeling this way he reflected back on the day to try and figure out what triggered this numb state. He never figure it out though, and was always left confused and annoyed. Rather than replying to the text he finally received from Kuroo, Kenma headed over to the desk where his new blade lay. Instead of shooting a text back to Kuroo, he drew a line across his hip with the silver blade. As he watched the beads of blood slowly surface, he was reminded of a quote he once read.
“I draw with silver and it turns red. Magic.”
He wished it was magic. Then he wouldn’t feel so guilty. Then he wouldn’t feel so selfish.
Kenma didn’t like crying, but he couldn’t control the tears as they rolled down his cheeks and dripped off his chin. The numbness was past and the sadness had returned. The self-hatred had returned. The self-pity had returned. Kenma didn’t like feeling so selfish, and he didn’t like bothering people, but he did what he knew was good for him and, picking up his phone, he scrolled through his contact list to a familiar name.
When Kuroo finally picked up, Kenma quietly muttered four words.
“I need to talk.”