A Slow Recovery - Sanegiyuu

3 - Routine

3rd person pov:

Giyuu staggered into his estate, clutching his abdomen as he made his way through the empty and cold building. There were no servants present in the house, every one of them quitted and refused to work under giyuu, complaining that giyuu was arrogant and too boring. Giyuu limped into the bathroom, his head hurts, he was thinking too much. He needed something to silent his head. He tore off his haori and threw it on the ground. He pulled open a cabinet and searched for an item. The brunette took out a razor and rolled up his sleeve, he dragged the blade across his pale skin.

1 cut..2 cuts...3 cuts.. 6... 9.. 13.. 20 cuts..

He moved onto his left arm.

1 cut...5 cuts...14.. 19...22..25 cuts..

His arm was a bloody mess, crimson red blood was oozing out of the cuts, staining his uniform and the wooden floor.

Giyuu's pov:

I sighed, lazily wrapping my arm. I wiped the blood on the floor, cursing under my breath when I saw permanent red stains on the wooden floor. I walked out of the toilet and gingerly hung my haori. I unrolled the mouldy futon and layed on it.

Why.. why was I hated so much? What did I do wrong? Did I make a mistake by being born? Why. Why do I have to deal with this shit? What am I so weak? Why am I such a shitty person? I regretted everything, I shouldn't have joined the demon slayer corps, I should have became the demon, not my sister. My stomach growled interrupting my train of thoughts. I flipped to the side, trying to ignore the growing pain in my stomach from the lack of food. My stomach growled again, I lost my patience and slammed my fist into my stomach.

"Just shut up will you? Your fat, you don't need to eat!" I shouted, flinging my pillow across the room. I broke down, why am I such a horrible person? Why couldn't I be strong? The other hashiras have it worse than me, and they can still deal with it. Why can't I? Why, why do I have to be so weak??

3rd person pov:

Giyuu sobbed, the sounds of his cries echoed throughout the empty house. He had no one, no one comforted giyuu, no one offered giyuu their shoulder. He was alone, he wanted to die, but he didn't want to disappoint oyakata-sama again, so he tried to push the suicidal thoughts away, he tried to smile and look forward to the future, he tried his best to live on. Giyuu picked up his pillow and organised his room. He went to the forest to go for a short walk and try to enjoy life. When he returned home, he tried to make dinner which consisted of piece of toast, some vegetables and half an egg. Giyuu had to force himself to eat the food and was barely able to resist the urge to dig out the food. He did his paper work, read a book and reviewed the fights he had with demons. When he was officially bored of reading, giyuu layed in his futon and slept.

...

Giyuu's pov:

I couldn't sleep at all. I woke up the next morning, more tired than usual. I managed to sleep for around 4 hours but it consisted of me momentarily sleeping before waking up and staring at the celling for a period of time. I got up and washed my face, the cold water felt refreshing. I stared at myself in the mirror, the dark circles under my eyes became darker and more evident. I look haggard, my skin was a little paler and my hair was  messy. The sleeves of my yukata had small dots of red. I rolled up my sleeve and saw the banages soaked in blood. I unwrapped the bandages and opened the drawer, trying to find some clean supplies to treat my arm. Something glistened under the light and I turned my attention to it. It was the blade which was stained with blood. I was tempted to cut. I looked away, trying to divert my attention from the blade but my efforts were futile. I grabbed the razor and dragged the blade across my arm, the sharp edge of the razor dug into my flesh, pulling my flesh apart. I sighed when I finished, I washed the blood off my arm and wrapped it up.

...

A week has passed, and I got my sword back. Oyakata-sama had allowed me continue training but insisted that I should take things slowly. I woke up early and started training. Swinging a sword never felt so good, it was exhilarating, slashing and cutting bamboos was relaxing. I continued my daily routine, waking up early in the morning to train till the afternoon, then going to the kitchen to get a fruit to snack on and started on my paper work. After im finished with the paper work, I would read a book after my evening training, get washed and head to sleep. The routine was simple but it brought me a sense of peace, I felt alive again.