"It" Can't Be Helped (Revised) | ✔️ | Blue Exorcist

38

My eyelids cracked open, and I peered through my eyelashes at the sunlight that filtered through the bedroom window. I yawned, stretching and taking satisfaction in moving my previously sedentary muscles. Kuro stirred beside me and I turned onto my side, hugging the feline close. "Good morning, Kuro," I murmured and he purred in response. I took a few moments to shake off my sleepiness before pushing myself out of bed. A few groans escaped my familiar and he murmured a few things about meeting me downstairs. However, I highly doubted I'd see him any time soon, not with the way he curled into a ball and immediately fell unconscious. I chuckled and turned to the closet, flipping through my clothes before settling on an outfit. Walking to the bathroom, I flipped on the light and moved to the shower. I went through my usual routine, showering and drying off several minutes later.

My reflection stared back at me, the boy in the mirror was a completely different person than the one I'd known when I first started the academy. My eyes raked across my exposed flesh, comparing my memories to the present. I'd grown used to the scars that littered my skin, but that didn't mean I liked them there. They were a permanent reminder of my depraved psyche. No amount of skincare would remove them, and my demon abilities only cared about survival, not aesthetics. I shifted, turning to the side and watching as my skin moved over my ribs. I'd known that my eating habits had cost me several pounds, but denial was one hell of a drug. I rarely used to look at myself in the mirror, partially because I didn't like the person who stared back, but also because I'd been afraid to face my problems. However, I know now that I had issues; major issues. Part of realizing that was seeing the damage that I had caused.

Bones were more prominent, with my spine showing, and stomach slightly concaved. I'd previously started fastening my belt a few loops tighter but failed to acknowledge what that implied. Even my fingers were thinner, something Bon had pointed out to me the other day. Thankfully, I had a major case of a baby face, because my expression hadn't changed much. Had my face changed like the rest of my body, I would've been exposed a lot sooner. I was still warring with myself if that was positive or not.

Sighing, I dressed and exited the bathroom. Kuro was still asleep, snoring lightly as I passed him. Treading down the stairs, I opened the cafeteria, not surprised when I heard clattering inside the kitchen. I walked inside, smiling when a flustered Yukio entered my sight. He was frantically moving between a chopping board and the pan on the stovetop. Shaking my head, I moved forward, taking the knife from his hands and continuing to cut the mushrooms he'd laid out. He was silent for a few moments and I cast a glance toward him. "It's gonna burn if you don't keep stirring." He scoffed, but moved over to the pan anyway. I felt his eyes on me a few times over the course of several minutes. Finally, I sighed and addressed his behavior. "I'm being supervised, Yukio. I'm not gonna use a chef's knife to butcher my arms."

"That's... not..." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Okay, yeah. I'm worried." That was painfully obvious, and I started to berate him. However, he cut in before I could finish. "I know, alright? You're in therapy and you're learning new coping skills, but you still relapse. I have every right to be worried." I stared at the chopping board, my knife hovering over the diced vegetables for a few moments. Finally, I sighed and set the utensil down. I moved toward my twin and gestured for him to give me the wooden spoon he was wielding. His eyes flashed up to mine and I saw him turn apologetic. "No, it's okay. You're being supervised. I didn't mean for you to stop."

"Bullshit," I stated, pulling the spoon from his grasp and taking his place in front of the stove. He sighed and moved to where I previously stood. "You'd much rather be holding the knife. It's obvious you're uncomfortable with me doing it. I just wanted to help, so it doesn't matter who does what." I stirred the contents of the pan, a bit more aggressively than need be. "Stop treating me like a child, please."