u guessed it, self harm
ooc
tomioka angst
fluff
obanai comforting tomioka
trans tomioka
smutt in the end, i wanted to make this just a fluff, but im to horny, ill just tell ya when it starts tho :)
The corridor outside Tomioka's room was eerily silent, the usual murmur of the bustling house replaced by an unsettling calm. Obanai, his curiosity piqued by the absence of the usual sounds of his friend's muffled laughter or the rustle of pages, approached the closed door with a gentle tap of his foot. The walls, painted a pale shade of blue, seemed to absorb the light from the flickering sconces, casting shadows that danced with every step he took.
Leaning in, Obanai pressed his ear to the wood, straining to catch any hint of what lay beyond. The quiet was absolute, save for the distant tick of a clock that echoed through the hallway. He paused for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob, feeling the cold metal beneath his fingertips. Slowly, he turned it, and the door creaked open, revealing the untouched space within.
The room was a picture of serenity, the bed neatly made and the curtains drawn to let in the soft glow of the setting sun. The scent of incense lingered in the air, hinting at the recent presence of its occupant. A book lay open on the desk, the pages fluttering slightly in the breeze from the open window. The room's emptiness was a stark contrast to the vibrant personality that
Tomioka usually brought to life within these four walls.
Taking a step inside, Obanai noticed a faint sound, a soft, rhythmic whisper that seemed to come from the bathroom. His heart quickened, and he felt a knot form in his stomach. He called out tentatively, "Tomioka?" but the room remained silent. The whisper grew louder, a beckoning that seemed to tug at his very soul. With a sense of unease, he approached the bathroom door, his hand trembling as he reached for the handle.
The door was unlocked, and it swung open to reveal a starkly different scene from the rest of the room. Blood spattered the pristine tiles, a crimson river that led to the tub where Tomioka sat, his legs drawn up to his chest. The water was a murky red, and his wrists and arms were a canvas of pain, with thin, jagged lines of red snaking up to his elbows. A razor blade, the culprit of the grisly sight, lay discarded beside him, its shiny surface stained with a dark crimson hue.
Tomioka's eyes, usually a vivid ocean blue, were clouded with despair, his gaze unfocused and distant. His breaths were shallow, and his voice was barely audible as he murmured, "I'm sorry, Obanai." The sight of his friend in such a state sent a shockwave through Obanai's body, his mind racing with questions and fear.
He rushed to Tomioka's side, kneeling beside the tub and taking in the extent of the damage. The water was warm to the touch, and the metallic scent of blood was overpowering. "What happened?" he managed to ask, his voice shaking. Tomioka looked up, and the sadness in his eyes was almost palpable. He spoke in a hushed tone, "It's just too much. I can't... I can't take it anymore." His words hung in the air, a confession of a burden too heavy to bear alone.
Obanai's instincts kicked in, and he reached for Tomioka's arms, applying gentle pressure to the wounds to stem the flow of blood. "You're going to be okay," he assured, though his own fear was a tumultuous storm. He knew he had to act fast, to save his friend from this dark abyss he had stumbled into. "We'll get help," he whispered, his voice filled with determination. "You're not alone." With every ounce of strength he could muster, he helped Tomioka to his feet, supporting him as they stumbled out of the blood-soaked bathroom and into the corridor, the cold floor a stark contrast to the warmth of the room they had just left behind. The story of their friendship was about to take a dark and urgent turn, one that would test the very fabric of their bond.
