Chapter Text
All Rui knew is that something was wrong. There was a strange pressure in his head and chest. It was some kind of emotion but he couldn’t quite tell what it was. Was he...sad? That felt somewhat close, but other than the horrid rhythm of school, there wasn’t much to be sad about. He had parents who loved him dearly, a friend who understood his ways, and generally a good life.
Yes, people could be unkind, but he was used to it.
People were people, and Rui was Rui. This feeling, whatever it might be, was draining his energy. Typically he’d come home from school and invent, or write, or perhaps watch television. If Nene were available, they’d enjoy each other’s company, even if they didn’t speak. But lately he’d get home and sleep, still in that evil-textured uniform, wasting the rest of the day.
The night always made him feel suffocated. Without really knowing why, he’d sob until the tears stopped coming, then lay awake as an empty shell past midnight.
Time had stopped really meaning anything. He remembered waking up today. He remembered being told off for working ahead in Biology. Now he was walking home.
If anything meaningful had happened during the lost time, he wouldn’t know. Technically, he knew there were likely words to describe all this, but he was scared of what that would mean, and really it wasn’t so bad right now.
So, he looked away.
The purple haired boy counted how many steps in each square of sidewalk.
1,2. 1,2,3. 1,2. 1,2,3,4. 1, if you jump slightly. 1,2.
Rui liked numbers because he liked knowns. They were useful for engineering, too.
Kamishiro Rui was 12 years old. He was less than half into his 1st year of junior high. He had 1 friend and was glad for her. Usually, the numbers of his academic performance were full marks, straight A, 100. For the first time in his life, though, his grades were slipping down.
That didn’t feel quite right. Another something that was wrong. He’d fix it. He really would fix it.
When he arrived home, his mother was waiting for him. He leaned his head against her shoulder, wishing he hadn’t grown so tall so quickly.
“How was school?” The question was routine. Both of them knew the answer was not, as he said, “Fine.”
She didn’t press. She understood. School was a difficult place for the strange.
“Do you want me to get you a snack?” He shook his head.
“I’m not hungry.”
He might have been but wasn’t able to tell. The boy didn’t feel like thinking about it. He hadn’t felt like eating lately either.
What had he felt like doing?
Sleeping.
He burrowed his head into the couch cushions and fell dead asleep.
Peace.
Waking up didn’t feel refreshing, not really. His hand was numb from leaning on it strangely, his hair was a mess, his clothes folded and pulled in strange ways, and he was still tired. His mouth tasted awful.
He hadn’t eaten lunch today. The bell rang after a half hour of staring down at it, and he threw it away.
Rui just didn’t feel like eating, that was all. (There was something more to it than that recently, a voice in the back of his head hissing insults and numbers.) Tonight, he’d have to. He smelled the food cooking.
Not long ago, that would have been reassuring.
He wanted his water bottle, to wash out the taste of his saliva and breath, so he headed to his room. The taste of water marinating in a metal water bottle was rather refreshing. There were so many stuffed animals on his bed. His platypus collection was a source of pride. Yes, Rui owned eleven platypus plush toys, including three of Perry the Platypus.
When he was younger, when everything was less confusing, he used to talk to these toys at night, narrating his process of inventing or writing to them, and they always listened. At times, he’d imagine them talking back as well.
Stuffed animals couldn’t talk of course. A peer years ago had made that quite clear to him when he was caught muttering to a purple cat he’d brought to school in order to comfort himself.
It wasn’t safe to bring them anywhere. He’d learned that lesson well last year. Putting down his water bottle, he picked up Bloom, one of his favorites. Poor thing... She was sewn up, the worst of the writing scrubbed away, but she would never be the same. He kissed her cloth bill and hugged her to his chest, rocking back and forth over and over until he could breathe deeply.
He got changed into clothes that didn’t bite and stayed in his room reading a play until dinner.
Rui loved theater, he’d loved theater so much it had driven nearly every other child away with his ideas, too daring, dangerous. It was the thing that set his heart afire, he knew as much as he’d been able to learn for years and years of loving it too hard, so he should be happy while reading a play.
But no, he wasn’t feeling anything at all. How curious, this was an activity he rather enjoyed. This was something that was for him, something that made him happy, yet...
The happiness wasn’t there, or at least it was suppressed.
Many things he thought and did would be considered abnormal, but this wasn’t very Rui-like of him. Not good,all he had was knowing exactly who he was, so if even that was slipping away, what would he have then?
The boy ate as little as possible during dinner.
"My apologies, I'm not hungry, "he said, which was only possibly true, and he was believed. This was too easy.
He just couldn’t bring himself to have any more. If he did, the voice in his brain would scream at him.
He didn’t know why.
So many people over the years had called him “genius.”
That was a complete hyperbole. It was more of a tradeoff, his mind. He understood robots, he understood theater and academic work and how to use long words, and other people knew how to not get bothered by school lights, and have conversations that didn’t end awkwardly, and to read faces.
People were people, and Rui was Rui, and Rui was a defective genius who couldn’t even keep his grades up.
In his room again, trying to continue his reading, he caught himself picking at his skin again. Circular pricks of pain, that even once he’d noticed he was making them, he didn’t really care to stop.
He counted.
17 on the left, 12, on the right.
He made both of his arms even.
They’d scar over soon. They always did. His intentions for the night were to stay up late to write, but he fell asleep again, into a dreamless place that led to another school day.
He had lunch on the rooftop that day. Well, he didn’t eat, but it was where he spent the lunch period.
The boy idly wondered if there was some sort of alert if somebody climbed the rooftop fence. No reason, of course. Just contemplation out of the boredom of the day. He spent the rest of the time writing and digging his nails into flesh.
This pain wasn’t going to be enough for much longer. The hunger was easier, because nobody could see it if he didn’t let them. And he wouldn’t.
Rui was smart. Rui was good at hiding if he wanted to.
He focused that day as well as one could without adequate food or sleep. Soon his grades would be where they should be, if he did his homework and looked like he was paying attention in class, and asked questions and was a normal, smart kid who didn’t cause problems.
See, school had become less a test of intelligence, but now your results depended on other factors, such as how well behaved you were, participation, how much meaningless, boring work students could do.
The workings of the world had been stack against him at birth, it seemed.
Still, he kept his mask in place, a perfect performance, if the boy did say so himself.
......
The days (weeks?) passed in a blur of time that kept slipping from his fingers. The school bell screeched day after day. His nails kept finding their way to the skin of his arms, over and over again, but it wasn’t enough to quell this suffocating pain growing deep inside him.
Rui pushed away the thoughts that had started swarming him while he handled his tools. Tools for metal, wire,materials for creation, nothing else. Nothing more.
At least his grades were high again, he’d given himself up to accomplish that.
No school today. Him and Nene were taking an aimless walk while they discussed theater things-well, it was mostly him doing the talking.
The boy breathed and talked and smiled around the feeling. He could hide from himself, and everyone else too.
“Did you sleep at all last night?” His companion asked, a touch of exasperation in her voice.
“I may have stayed up into the later hours...very inspiring, don’t you think?” True enough, the night was inspiring, but last night in particular he’d been crying, pulling at his hair, his thoughts echoing what is wrong with you what is wrong with you what is wrong with you.
This morning, the mirror had shown awful dark circles in his undereye area.
“Of course you did,” the girl said, then rolled her eyes and smiled. “Do you want to get a snack somewhere?” She looked around at the little shops and cafes.
Rui considered this. It was true, he was hungry, having not eaten breakfast, and barely anything for lunch. It was also true that he didn’t feel like having his mind guilt him and having to be hyperaware of the feel of food in his stomach. This had been getting worse lately, leaving him unable to focus if he ate too much. So, it was just easier not too.
But he didn’t want Nene to know, and besides, her request was more about the freedom of buying something yourself, enjoying it. The money was...their parents’ yes, but it was still exciting.
“Rui. I asked you a question.” He shook his head.
“Sorry, I zoned out. I would love to. Did you have somewhere in mind?”
Nene made a hmm sound and fidgeted with her hair. “I’m not sure. Let’s just keep walking.”
So they did. It was peaceful.
He felt the urge to grab her hand, like when they were children, but no, people would assume things. Rui had no care for that himself, but the girl was still scared of being perceived at times. He had no wish to cause her stress.
Nene stopped before he did. “There. Definitely there.” Now, what would make her display so much emotion...oh, some sort of special grapefruit drink was being sold in this cafe for a limited time, as told to him by a sign in the window.
They walked inside. It was a new-ish place, with smooth graphics on walls making it pop with color.
If only he was as excited as Nene about this...
“Um...can you order for me?” She looked at the floor, hands twisting over each other with anxiety.
“Of course. Now, I assume you’ll want that drink advertised, given that it contains your favorite food?” She nodded. “Alright, anything else?”
She hummed, looking over the menu and the items in the display case. “That pastry with the strawberry cream looks nice...yeah, I’ll have that too.”
The boy gave the order to the smiling teenager behind the counter, as well as his own. Coffee. Nothing in it.
He didn’t like black coffee, far too bitter for his taste, but his brain would stay quiet, and he could use the caffeine. Nene frowned. She knew that wasn’t his typical preference. He hoped she wouldn’t say anything, because then he might be tempted to tell her.
She’d just worry. That would be rather inefficient of him as a friend, causing her distress.
How much longer would Nene need him? Until somebody else, easier and just...better, came along?
Not long. Not long at all.
Due to the cafe not being all that busy, they received what they ordered quickly. Rui sipped his coffee and fought the urge to twitch. Black coffee was horrid. Nevertheless, he’d learn to like it. Living with discomfort seemed to be the norm now.
Nene was enjoying herself, for the most part. That was what was important. She kept glancing at him across the table, but didn’t say anything for quite a while.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything else?” The boy startled.
“Mhm?”
“You’re just kind of...staring at my stuff. And you don’t like coffee usually. Not unless it has a bunch of weird stuff in it. That’s all.”
He shrugged. “This is...cheaper.” A plausible explanation. Anyone would believe that, and besides, there were certain items he was saving for.
“I can give you money to buy something else if you really want it.” Rui wanted to give in so very badly but his mind didn’t want to let go of this control, he couldn’t or else...or else...
His traitorous mouth spoke for him.
“Well then, who am I to refuse such an offer?” She handed him money, and he stood up and ordered a small cake slice. That voice was shrieking now, there weren’t even any knowns he could track, control, because they didn’t list numbers here...estimate, he could estimate.
He resolved to just eat half of it, a resolve promptly broken when it was handed to him and he sat down. There was a guilt to even the fact that he was enjoying it, taking bites between responding to Nene’s enthralling ramble about different singing techniques. She kept asking, “Am I talking too much?” and every time he shook his head. Rui talked much more than her, it really wasn’t logical to worry.
The boy finished his cake and the girl her pastry and together they began to walk again, drinks in hand. Ah, this coffee wasn’t so bad with something sweet to contrast. Why did having food in his stomach make it hard to focus on the conversation despite increasing his physical ability to focus...how curious.
The tips of his fingernails fidgeted with the skin of his wrist. Just another sore prick of pain. If he lost one control for the day then he had to make up for it.
It felt as factual as anything else.
This fear, this guilt, was not supposed to exist stemming from the act of sustaining himself, yet it did. Maybe he’d do something about it one day, and everything else, but it didn’t matter for now; it was barely a problem. The boy was conversing and laughing and nobody knew about his thoughts and it would stay that way.
They stopped into a toy store on his request. “Such a whimsical place...it’s giving me ideas. Ideas and concepts, Nene!” She shook her head in fondness.
“Everything gives you ideas and concepts. That’s just...you being Rui.” Yes, he was Rui. Despite the nagging anxiety from the cake, despite the new raw skin on his wrist, he felt more like himself than he had in weeks.
“The world is a remarkable place, so the entirety of it...” he didn’t know how to finish the thought verbally, but she’d know what he meant. They’d known each other long enough. The girl was eyeing several mermaid themed items. She wasn’t exactly the precise collector he was with his platypuses, but owned an impressive amount of mermaid related objects, both mythological and, of course, The Little Mermaid.
The world was beautiful. Of that he was aware. He was in a privileged position to experience it as well, so this disconnect...this thing he had no clue how to elaborate upon had no reason to exist.
Truly, if somebody grabbed him by the shoulders now as he was staring into the eyes of a rocket ship kit he would have loved dearly a few years ago, and asked him what was wrong, he would have no answer.
I don’t know.
“Ready to go?” Nene’s tone was flat. Her “being out in public” energy must be spent. His was quite depleted as well.
“I am indeed.” They walked back together, her house first, where Nene’s mother, Nami, gave him a hug and asked if he wanted to stay, knowing his parents would have work.
He declined her offer and went home to his empty house, working on his latest robotics project until the thoughts grew overwhelming, and he had to stop. Without Nene, it felt...dark.
......
Sleep took him again soon after, and he didn’t wake up until the early hours of the next morning. Too early for anybody else to be awake, too late to go back to sleep. To prepare himself for the day ahead, he listened to his favorite songs, he paced his room back and forth, and he drank water. That’s right, Kamishiro Rui, hydrating properly, nothing short of a miracle.
School was a very lonely place, but some people still talked to him if the opportunity presented itself. The trouble was, they were already entangled with each other,leaving him once again an observer.
He could talk a bit about his interests to them, and a bit was enough to keep him going.
The sounds of the rest of the house waking began to permeate. Sitting on the floor, gently rocking, he listened to floorboards creak and the coffee machine turn on.
He hadn’t liked school for years, but the absolute dread was another new thing. It looked like a nice day,in regards to weather. Too bad he’d be stuck inside a freezing cold building with people who hated him and boring, pointless work, and he’d be sleeping once he got home.
Warm sun on a playground had once felt like it lasted forever, a beautiful warmth he hadn’t appreciated until it was too late. The same sun came shining through his window onto the boy’s face. If only he could stay in this moment forever. But alas, he had to change and half-brush his hair and walk to school, throwing out his breakfast on the way.
Having just arrived, he wanted to go home. That wasn’t an option. He spent most of the day zoned out, daydreaming. A show with bright toyshop aesthetics and visuals, yes, he could make that. Well, it might never be performed anywhere, but he could think about it.
Never.
The boy was startled by his own thought. No, he corrected himself. I’m going to be a director. Even if my work can’t be performed now, it will in the future. Until then, I have Nene.
Still, the idea nagged at him, that he wouldn’t really achieve his dream at all.
What business does a boy who can’t even make it through basic conversation without messing up have being a director? What business does someone who can’t even keep his school papers in order have providing leadership to an entire cast?
He’d figure it out, he would. One day.
“Oi! Kamishiro!” Rui startled, fearing the worst. Ah, it was just that boy and his group of friends, grouped up in a corner. These were the only people left who would associate with him, and some conversation was better than none. The teacher for this pointless health class hadn’t come in today, and they were the first to leave their seats upon realizing this. The boy gestured for him to come over.
He joined them, awkwardly hovering at the edge of the circle. The boy who called him over, the one with bangs that flopped over his eyes was...Matsui Reo, yes. The girl with heavy eye makeup that certainly was against the dress code was Sugiyama Yuiko, and the names of the other two eluded him.They were all third years. Most would consider them dangerous, but he found them safer than others. Likely, it was because he invoked fear as well.
Sugiyama leaned against the wall, blazer tied around her waist and sleeves rolled, red irritated lines showing up her inner forearm. She was probably the nicest, but how sensitive he was to stimuli made the scent of cigarette smoke she wore like a perfume a bit hard to bear. “Say something. I’m bored. You’re interesting.”
“Years ago, some people attempted to make a musical based upon Spiderman, but the songwriter didn’t like musical theater, and the director, Julie Taymor, didn’t like Spiderman. You can guess how that went...” Rui hoped they wouldn’t laugh at him, like they did sometimes.
“Wait, I think I heard about that. Didn’t a bunch of people get like, horribly injured?” One of the nameless ones-the one with their hair in a ponytail-said. The purple haired boy nodded.
“Spiderman proved to be a hazardous role.” They laughed, clearly not at him, but it was still odd because he hadn’t been joking. “Julie Taymor was the first woman to win best direction of a musical, not for that. For her work on The Lion King’s Broadway adaptation. And her niece, Danya, won the same for the musical adaptation of The Out-”
“Who gives a fuck?” Matsui giggled through the question like it wasn’t ripping through the younger boy’s heart.
“Literally what do you even do all day to know that?” Another nameless one. He gave no answer, and let them all keep talking to each other. They had history, a dynamic, and he was there too.
“Yuiko, you can’t say that!” Rui had no idea what had sparked that remark, having trying to script out a way to join the conversation in his head.
“Oooh, you’re trying to silence women now?” Sugiyama smirked at her friend, who sputtered out,
“What? No? The hell are you talking about?”
“Kamishiro, Reo hates women, right?” The boy blinked.
“I wouldn’t know if he hates women...or not...” At his respone, she shook her head and whispered loud enough for the others to hear, “No, it’s a joke, just say yes.”
“Um. Alright.” He turned towards the older boy,altering his tone to be smug, comedic. “Allegedly, you are a misogynist.” The four kids erupted into laughter that was too loud, but at least he could be part of something. This performance entertained them all, and he wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to put on a show.
“See! See! Even the first year knows.”
“I mean, no I don’t like women romantically, but I think they should have rights! Shut up!” He punched her in the shoulder lightly. The other person he didn’t know the name of, a person with reddish hair and a staring death glare, snickered.
“Gay.” Ponytail girl drew out the word sing-song. Matsui flipped her off.
“You’re dating another woman!” The boy huffed, no malice in his tone.
Rui could survive on the outskirts of a lively group like this for now, but what would he do next year?
Now, they were all complaining about the uniform.
“So bland, you know? Like c’mon, who designed these things?” That was ponytail-girl, rubbing her skirt between her fingers.
Oh, he could participate here. This was a shared dislike.
“It feels wrong on my skin. Especially the seams of the blazer, you see.” Sugiyama shrugged.
“You could just like. Not wear the blazer.” He nodded.
“I...guess I never considered that.” Rui unbuttoned it and took it off, holding it in his other arm. He was colder now, but the texture was so much less unbearable.
“I’m a genius!” She pointed to her head, as if indicating much knowledge held within.
“Uh huh. Sure,” The person with staring eyes said sarcastically. After maybe fifteen minutes more of conversation, sometimes including the younger boy (usually not) the class ended.
Another lunch alone on the rooftop, another lunch he didn’t eat. The weather was
beautiful today, the kind of warmth that preceded rain, the sun that had been shining so
brightly in the morning glowing behind a thin mask of clouds.
Rui loved rain. There was a mystical wonder in it, like if you sat beneath the drops
enough, you’d hear something secret. The sky sometimes poured down, something wild and inevitable and unexpected, and it simply was. A storm is a storm, and whether people liked it or not, that was an indisputable fact.
And stage productions that caused it to rain on stage...that felt the only way to
capture that kind of glory. An awe beyond words had filled him the first time he’d seen such a show, an awe that filled him even when watching recordings. He’d have to try something like that when...when...
Never.
Was it true? Was he just a child who couldn’t let go of playing pretend?
The sky fulfilled its promise, and anyone else on the rooftop made a quick exit. The boy didn’t mind, even as it rained harder and harder. So what, he’d show up to class a bit damp, a bit cold. It was worth it.
He tilted his head up to the sky and let the wind blow through his hair, onto his closed eyes. This was living, or something like it, and he’d treasure this feeling, knowing it was going to fade.
.....
The boy stared, numb and panicked; at the singular shallow red line he’d drawn across his forearm.
Just a scratch. Not even bleeding. (Why did he wish it was?)
What had he done, what if someone saw...
Accident. It was an accident from working on a robot. That’s right.
It would scar over, disappear into his skin in no time, and he could forget all about this. But he couldn’t forget, because it had replaced the pain in his chest with another pain, one that was sharp and specific and easier to deal with.
What would it look like, feel like, if he went further, the boy wondered. Then he walked in circles, listening to music and letting it form pictures in his mind until he grew bored of it. Anything but his thoughts would do.
“Macavity’s a mystery cat.”
Rui had caused himself injury.
“He’s called the hidden paw.”
And he had liked it, or at least it had worked to rid himself of this feeling. Oh, he didn’t feel like listening to his song.
“If it’s true what they say...if there’s nothing to be done...”
Orpheus’ loss of innocence in Hadestown shifting to an anger at the whole world and the broken system. There was something there, there was something there.
That musical was a story of love.
But all Rui could think of was that Orpheus still looked back; Eurydice stays dead, and the story repeats. Nothing changed for the better. It continued in a cycle of pain.
“Is this how the world is!?”
Why did they sing it again?
He was being nonsensical, disregarding the meaning of a work he’d analyzed quite a lot. Rachel Chavkin’s methods of staging a story were creative and innovative, her style clear...
What sort of a director would he be?
Never.
When he woke up the next morning, the wound itched. There was only pain if he pressed, but the itching was worse. There was already dread filling him at the thought of going to school...
What was one more?
Another bite of pain.
Not enough, just one more time. Then he’d never do it again, his tools would be for creation of machines and not destruction of his skin once again.
But the boy is a liar and he knows it.
The next one bled. It was fascinating, more than anything else.. He pressed his fingers against it until it stopped, then washed his hands. Blood washed easily from his fingertips. Skin picking had gone too far for him to count anymore, but it was clear that there were three cuts on his forearm. There wouldn’t be any more.
At school, he found his gaze drifting to Sugiyama’s scarred arms. Had she once told herself, just once, just one time?
There was no shame in the way she carried herself. She too, was a target of whispers, someone eyes stared at, but there was no flinch to her, like he had at times.
He had grown rather attached to her, more than the others in her group. Not a crush of any sort, no. Come to think of it, Rui hadn’t ever had one of those.
Sugiyama was in pain too, but she presented herself with a style, a grace, a charisma. Rui had grown from an overexcited child who couldn't stop talking to a boy who was awkward and always cringing.
“Dude. Did we like...did we even do this?” She flopped herself over their math worksheet in a dramatic manner. Definitely worthy of a stage.
“We did. You were asleep when it was taught.” Hopefully he didn’t sound judgmental. Tone was difficult when he wasn’t acting, so it was easier to think of it as a script. This made short exchanges difficult. “Would you like me to explain the concept?” Numbers were easy.
“Please. You’re the least bad first year in this damn place, Kamishiro.” The purple haired boy giggled. It was a running joke for every second and third year that they all despised first years. Coming from Sugiyama and her friends, it never felt sharp. Helping her with math felt useful. A way to become closer...friends? Acquaintances? The lines were so fuzzy; he could never keep track.
Afterwards, there was plenty of time left to kill.
“So, Sugiyama, what has-” She interrupted him.
“You can call me Yuiko, you know. If you want.”
So...they were friends, then.
“So, Yuiko, had anything fascinated you lately?” The girl perked up, pushing her messy blue-black hair behind her ears. It was frazzled from the streaks of blond, clearly dyed herself. That was something else he found oddly admirable. If she wanted something like that to change, even her hair, she’d go and do it.
“Ok, this might sound dumb when I say it out loud, but I have been friends with a lot of stray cats lately. You know, the cats are out late, I’m out late, I see them, cats are cute, I pet them, I feed them if I can.” Rui smiled despite himself. Cats were always a reason to smile.
Shame he didn’t have a cat, then he’d have an even easier excuse.
“So, I’ve been giving them names.” The girl covertly pulled out her phone and opened to a picture of a cat, small and wiry. It was mostly black, with white patches around its face. Some people might consider it a rather ugly cat, really.
He thought it was utterly enchanting. “Ah, so this one...?”
“That would be Toast.” The younger boy tilted his head.
“As in the breakfast food?” As in the breakfast food that had been pushed into his hand this morning and thrown into the first trash can he had encountered.
“Yeah. He just gave a vibe, and I named him. I would take him home, but...my mom...” Yuiko trailed off and sighed. Rui didn’t know all the details, but from bits and pieces acquired through her group’s discussions, he’d deduced that home wasn’t a very good place for her to be. Despite his lack of knowledge, his heart still ached for her, and everything else so unfair in the world. “Anyways, what about you? What’s...fascinating or whatever?”
“I’ve been reading a lot of plays that are widely considered as classics, and-” She was laughing. Why was she laughing?
“Sorry, I’m not-that was just such a you answer, Rui. Of course you’d say that. Anyway! Continue.”
Huh. She was calling him Rui now.
“The writing style is quite different in some of those plays. To try to expand my horizons and make sure my English skills remain in order, I read one that’s considered an American literary classic. To properly understand it, I had to research a lot of context. It was worth it. It’s called A Raisin in the Sun. Its themes regarding prejudice and such could be applied to many things, as well as their relevance in their time and place...”
He’d read the second act wide-eyed; his passion returned to him. New things, new things kept an artificial happiness glowing within him. Rui could endure like this. Live, thrive? No. Endure. That was all he could manage.
To his surprise, Yuiko seemed interested. They spent the rest of the class period quietly talking. When it was just her, and not the whole group, the wall of separation was gone.
But class had to end, and he was to be alone again.
Once the light left, it felt like it had never been at all. Something was wrong, something was wrong and he still couldn’t tell what. Something was wrong and it had scraped itself into his skin and emptied his stomach and there was nothing, nothing he could do about any of this.
His hunger hated the way he’d been drawing it out. Rui forced himself to enjoy it, the voice in his mind telling him, someone like you deserves it.
The school day was far too long and far too short for his taste.
Nobody was home when he arrived. Maybe he’d go over to Nene’s, he wasn’t too tired for that today.
His stomach very much wanted him to get a snack first. Well, Rui didn’t want that, or at least it wasn’t worth feeling awful about. He should stay like this, yes. That was the best for everyone, but he was very hungry.What exactly did he want? It was hard to tell with how foggy his brain was.
Maybe a bit of a snack wouldn’t hurt.
That had been the intention, a bit of a snack. Nothing truly significant. But the hunger seemed to take over all instincts of his mind, the new voice, his thoughts, logic, everything, it was gone. A revenge for the past weeks, reminding him he truly had no control at all.
When the boy came back to himself, his mouth tasted of salt and sugar and far too many things at once. His stomach hurt still, but reversed from before ,stretched out instead of empty, and acid came up in the back of his throat.
Self hatred followed the observations immediately.
Fix it, His mind whispered.
Unfortunately, he was too much of a coward to follow that particular suggestion.
Nene wouldn’t be seeing him today. Actually, Rui did not want to be percieved by any human eyes at all right now.
He’d known the “never again” was a lie, but he didn’t expect to want it again so soon, but he had to make up for this.
He had to.
Three more lines, against the pale skin of his stomach this time.
His headphones went on, and he listened to music without hearing it.
Unlike earlier in the year, he didn’t cry so much in the night. The boy barely cried at anything anymore. He missed the tears.
Ah. His release was iron now, instead of salt.
.....
Being constantly on the outside of others made a person quite an accurate observer. Rui had forgotten that that held true for Nene as well. The two of them sat in her room, him on the floor and her at her desk, not really engaged with the other, when out of the blue, she turned to him.
“Are you okay?” He looked up from the robot design he’d been sketching. At the moment, he didn’t know the proper answer to the question, but he didn’t feel like he was being suffocated by unknown feelings, so he opted for positivity.
“At the moment, I am fine, thank you.” The girl shook her head.
“You’ve been acting...weird. Not Rui-weird. I don’t know, you just...” She stood up from her chair to sit beside him. No touching, that wasn’t her way, but closer.
“Hm. I guess I’m very tired lately. The transition to junior high from elementary hasn’t been very good to me.” The words were all true. He prayed she wouldn’t look in the spaces between.
A part of him did want to tell her, but he didn’t know how. And the things he’d done, that he couldn’t stop doing, wouldn't that repulse her?
“Oh. That makes sense. Do you want to um...talk about it?” The girl had a piece of her own hair in her mouth and was chewing on it unconsciously. Rui didn’t bring this to her attention. She’d notice on her own.
“It’s to be expected, I suppose. The work is different. It’s easy for me, yes, but the structure of the teaching is changed, so it feels harder. And people...well, you know I’m not the best with others.” She nodded sympathetically.
“Yeah. I wish I was going to your school next year, because I don’t know if I’ll be able to...” He caught the implication of her words. Neither of them were very good at people, with some reasons that overlapped and some that didn’t.
“You’ll be alright. Once you warm up, you’re a wonderful friend. I really should be used to junior high by now, with the year halfway through already.” The girl shrugged.
“It’s a lot of change, you don’t really...like that.” She knew him, she knew him so well. Why couldn’t he just tell her that something was wrong?
Maybe she’d be able to figure out what exactly “something” was, if he attempted to articulate, explain.
She’ll hate you she’ll be scared of you it’s disgusting you’re disgusting.
The boy simply couldn’t. He leaned against her. She accepted this small touch without pulling away. The warmth emanating from her was welcome. They were both okay. He was okay. It wasn’t so suffocating right now.
After a while of silence, Nene spoke again, tone brighter than before. “I’ve been looking theater troupes that have um, divisions for kids and stuff. Once I turn twelve, we could apply for one together. I know you want to direct but...”
Rui nodded. “Either way, doing theater in an organized way would be a good step in the right direction. I’d just have to hope the way I am wouldn’t clash with anyone else.” The boy’s face twisted for a second. “When I think about it, it might not really be the best idea...” The girl tilted her head.
“What do you mean? If we all had the same goal, then-” Nene understood Rui, but not entirely the situations he kept finding himself in. She couldn’t understand.
“I tried to ask kids at my school to do shows, earlier in the year. Kids I know like theater. I’m still too much for them. They...I suppose everyone always tires of my ideas eventually...maybe I wouldn’t do well in a group.” The green-haired girl eyes narrowed, staring at her childhood friend with annoyance.
“Well, I’m not tired of your ideas, and nobody who actually wants to make a good show would be either, so why are you.... you’ve been acting so weird, and I feel like you were lying before!”
The boy flinched away. “I...” He closed his eyes tight for a moment longer than a blink. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“There’s something you’re not telling me. I don’t know what it would be, but...” She shook her head, as if she could clear out her brain and find the proper words. “I want to know what’s going on.”
This was a precarious situation. He had multiple options here.
1. Tell her everything, and probably cry in the process. (No, she’d think he was insane and make him tell his parents.)
2. Tell Nene that everything was fine, and she was seeing things that weren’t there. (No, she already knew that wasn’t true.)
3. Run out of her house without taking his sketchbook with him and never come out again. Ever. (Rejected for obvious reasons.)
4.Say something that sounded vulnerable but barely scratched the surface.
Well. Number 4 seemed the most viable.
“No, I haven’t felt like myself lately. Probably as a result of what I said before. I’m tired and school is hard. It’s not as important as you’re making it out to be.”
Her eyes widened, and she inhaled sharply. “Rui...”
“I...I’m sorry...” His tone surprised him too. He hadn’t meant to be angry. “I didn’t mean to sound so...it’s really okay though. Or it will be. So, you don’t need to worry about me, alright?” She nodded.
Maybe she was scared of him now. Like everyone else. Everyone always got tired and left.
“It does suck that you feel like that though.” She patted him on the shoulder, and he smiled. They were back in their normal rhythm.
“Indeed. I’m certain it will work itself out.” The boy was certain of no such thing. The only thing he could keep certain anymore was pain. He stretched himself out on the floor like a cat, careful to make sure his shirt didn’t ride up.
“Hopefully. Just...tell me if it doesn’t.” Nene really believed he’d tell her. He wanted to be who she thought he was.
However, Kamishiro Rui was a liar and a coward.
He spent another hour at the Kusanagi’s, the time blissful and suspended once again, provided he didn’t think about...all of the things that were wrong and unravelling.
Sometimes, if he was with Nene and her family, or his parents, he could forget. But nights always made him honest again. The blades were always waiting.
Kamishiro Rui was 12 years old. Nearly every night, when he was lying in bed he wished to never see another day, let alone 13.
Was this all that awaited him for the rest of any life he lived?
Never. Felt like the truth. Existing, if this was what it felt like, wasn’t worth it.
If only he could disappear without a trace.