The Grey Truth

The Grey Truth: Chapter Eight

"I don't know how we'll be able to help her, Will, the girl almost looks to be too far gone. Even you and I hadn't gotten that bad," Grell said as he and Will were meeting in the kitchen of William's apartment. Josephine was in her room, likely reading or sketching in a book William had gotten for her as a gift just after she had moved in with him.

"I know, you weren't that bad, though remember, we don't know how long she's been going for, you'd only been at it for a few months, who knows how long it's been for Josephine?" William reminded his crimson-haired subordinate, who nodded a bit grimly.

Both reapers sighed, once again, a feeling of defeat washed over them, as with many of the little meetings. They could never think of a way to approach Josephine to try to help her. They had tried being subtle about it for some time, but they soon found that Josephine was much smarter than to fall for it, for she always picked up on their intentions. The pair had tried talking with Josephine on how she was feeling about now living with William, and if thing were going alright otherwise, though the subject never came up.

"Well, you should be heading home, Sutcliff, I'm going to go and try to talk to Josephine," William said, and Grell nodded, getting up.

Once the long-haired reaper had left, William walked down the hall and knocked upon Josephine's bedroom door. There was no answer from inside, all William heard was a soft, pained hiss from across the hall in the bathroom. He sighed to himself, and opened the door. The girl was at the sink, blood running from her arm to the white porcelain. William shook his head a bit and walked over. The man attempted to pull the thin arm away from the blade, though he was unnoticed until it was too late. A sharp pain sliced through his hand, causing him to yell out a bit and pull away quickly. There was a cut straight through the black glove that covered his hand, and between the pieces of fabric, was a red strip. When he had reached to pull the girl's wrist away, she hadn't noticed, and had cut him instead of herself.

Grell hadn't yet left the apartment, and rushed to see what had happened when he heard the yell of his superior and a metallic clatter. The man gasped at the sight, the two people he cared about were both hurt. Josephine seemed alright, other than the fact that she had another cut in her arm, which she was now wrapping in bandages. William had taken off his glove and was now inspecting a decent wound that ran across his hand.

"William, darling!" Grell shouted in a concerned tone.

"I'm fine, Sutcliff, it was an accident. I should have given some warning that I was entering and behind Josephine and didn't. I'll be fine, I just need to wrap it," William replied, taking the bandage wrap from Josephine after she was finished with her own cut and began to wrap his hand.

"I-I didn't mean to-," Josephine started, though she was cut off by a reassurance from Will that he would be alright. After this, the girl left the room, going to her own and closing and locking the door behind her.

After things settled down, Grell left and went home. William began to clean up the bathroom when he noticed that Josephine had left a folding pocket knife on the floor near the sink, having dropped it in shock at finding that she had cut her instructor and not herself. He picked it up and cleaned off the blade. Other than a small spot of dried blood from an old cut at the tip of the blade, the knife was in very good condition. William folded the blade into the handle, upon hearing the soft metallic click, he stashed the knife in his pocket, and finished cleaning.

In his room, William took the knife from his pocket and hid it in a small box in his closet where he kept some things from his days at the academy, intending on giving the knife to Grell the next day at work for safe-keeping. The darkly dressed man sighed as he looked at what the box contained. It held his old training scythe, still in its sheathe from the last time it was used, as well as his recruit glasses, the top edge of the lenses scratched from when things had gotten out of hand during his final exam. Buried at the bottom of the box, under the recruit handbook (which Will had memorized and still remembered clearly all these years later), old report cards, and yearbook (which William set aside to look at later), was a small, black-handled knife, the blade protected by a black leather sheathe.