Pick Up The Pieces

Whiplash

Numb. That's all that he could feel. Just numb, hollow.

The parchment laden with the last words that Izumo had ever written was gripped tightly in his hands, and he refused to let go, lest he misplace it and lose it. This explained very little. How did he die? How was Izumo beaten to the point of death? It didn't make sense at all, and it was something that had been permanently stuck in the recesses of his brain since he had woken up.

Kotetsu's eyes scanned over the letter again and again, waiting for some kind of explanation to jump out in front of him, but it didn't. Too late did he realise that rivers were once again pouring down his cheeks and he hurriedly wiped them away, only to have them replaced with a fresh bout of salty tears.

Disturbing Iruka about this was neither a wise nor possible option. He didn't want to disrupt the other chūnin's sleep but it was mainly due to the fact that an intrusive and rather uncomfortable instrument was still probing into his genitalia. He'll be happy to be rid of the cursed tool as soon as possible. All he had to do was wait until Sakura came around next and relieved him. Simply really; remain in a conscious state for a consecutive amount of hours and things would be begin to better.

'Tsch ' Kotetsu scoffed at himself.

'Begin to be better.' He whispered to no one, as he scooped up Izumo's ring and gazed at it sadly, which had sat unmoved on his bedside dresser since the day it was given to him; the day he had broken down, where the walls inside his head compressed his sanity to nothing but a minute iota, the day he mutilated himself...

Fear. Anger. Regret.

Everything seemed to be fighting for dominance inside himself and it was beginning to become too much of a burden to try and swallow them down. Restlessly, he pulled open the drawer to his dresser and rummaged about for his own piece of parchment and a small brush.

"Perhaps this will help." He thought haggardly to himself as he dipped the brush into a small inkwell.

"Maybe this might help me loosen up...I hope to god it does."

Slowly, shakily, Kotetsu flicked the brush out in small artistic strokes, his mind reeling and unsettled as he began to write.

"I want to believe that there's a heaven. I want to believe that you're up there looking over me and watching me down here. So if its true...I want you to see this.

What am I doing Iz? I don't understand how I'm meant to cope with everything suddenly crashing around me so heavily. When did everything just turn upside down without me realising it? When did reality suddenly decide that you needed to leave without letting me say goodbye? I don't blame you. I never could. It's just... I can't cope with this.

What am I meant to do Izumo? You were everything to me. You're still everything to me. I want to think that this is all a nightmare, and if I hurt myself enough I'll wake up and everything will be okay...

...Fuck, Iz! Who am I even trying to kid with this? I don't want to think about you never coming home. I don't want to think about how I'll never see you again. I want the monsters in my head to go away, but they won't! I need help...I need help...

I NEED HELP!

All I ever seem to do nowadays is bitch and cry. Everything sets me off...but everything reminds me of you. I can't look at myself anymore because I so stupidly fucked myself up and I'm scarred with you always.

But what am I saying? How can I ever think that being scarred with you is a bad thing?

...This is what I mean, Iz. I'm so fucked up in my head that I'm thinking that everything we did was a bad thing... I know in my heart it isn't, I just...