soulmates ➸ j-mei-

prologue ♡

Natsuki screamed as a knife came centimeters from her neck, chopping some of her hair off. She frowned. She'd just have to tie her hair in a specific way as to not show the missing hair. She hesitantly tried to negotiate with the owner of the knife. "Papa–"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry. S-Sir, I h-have to go t-to school in 30 m-minutes. P-Please, don't hurt me. Y-You wouldn't want s-someone to s-suspect something, w-would you?" Natsuki stammered weakly.

Her father's fist connected with her arm. "I'd rather you wear long sleeves today, dear," he said menacingly. "And long pants."

With that, he kicked the petite girl's leg, forcing her to fall from the loss of balance. His shoe rested on her stomach. The dirt ruined the new dress that Sayori had bought only days before for the pink haired girl.

"I think this dress looks better with my mark on it," father said.

He added pressure to Natsuki's stomach, forcing her to whimper in pain. Her stomach already hurt from the lack of food, and the added pressure was excruciating. Father bent down and pressed his knee to her chest. He was kneeling on her with one leg. His hands closed around her neck.

She could already tell that she'd have bruises with his fingerprints. Suddenly, the pressure was lifted, and her breath returned to her. "Go change into something else."

She nodded meekly. She'd wanted to make a good first impression on her classmates. Since it was the first day, the students at her school didn't have to wear their uniforms for the first half of the day. So much for being cute.

"Make sure you look cute for your daddy," papa called.

He just makes me want to never be cute again, Natsuki fumed inside her head. I wish I could leave, but I still have hope inside that he'll change. I'm sure that one day, he'll look at me as his daughter instead of some pest. Maybe one day, he'll feed me right and care for me. It'll happen. I know it will.

She sighed as she looked through her drawers. She had nothing else but her uniform and a simple cat shirt with a pink skirt. She rolled my eyes and began to change into her uniform.

_

_

My third year of high school, Yuri thought. Her nerves were standing on edge, and she was visibly shaking with anxiety. Her ragged breathing is the only sound that filled the room.

Why don't you just cut? It'll make you feel better.

There goes that voice again. Somehow, it always found her. Like an angel, but she thought of it more like a demon. The voice was right, though. If she cut, maybe she would feel better. A couple of seconds later, she finished buttoning the blazer for her uniform. She cautiously looked around to make sure nobody was watching. Her whole life she had felt as if someone— or something, was watching her. A dark presence always radiated around her.

She tugged opened her sock drawer and pulled out her favorite knife. It did better and provided more relief than any other, in her opinion. She walked around to my bathroom and pulled up her sleeve. The cuts she had done the night before were already faded, leaving no scar. She sighed. Maybe, I just bounce back quickly.

She pressed the cold blade to her wrist and inhaled sharply. Her breathing calmed down as she felt the relief that came with the pain. The physical pain was nothing compared to her emotions. After doing two more cuts, she decided to stop, as she needed to get going. She carefully pressed a cold, wet cloth to her cuts to stop the bleeding.

She sucked in as much air as she could before exhaling softly. She gained my composure and began to walk. Her long, slender legs, carried her down the stairs in a light, graceful step.

She grabbed her bag and ran out to the bus stop, just in time. A pink haired girl was pleading the driver to take her without paying a fare. People do that a lot, from what I noticed, she thought.

But this girl was different. She had the same uniform as Yuri did, so she obviously needed to get to the same place.

Yuri was shy around people, but she did have a status. She hated to flaunt or use it against people, but her mother owns a large company, and everybody seemed to know her— at least everyone who owns a television or reads newspapers.

"Oh, Miss Yuri," the bus driver said, smiling. "Good morning."

"She's with me."

"Pardon?" the driver said, still confused.

"My friend here, the one you're refusing service to, is with me. She's got to get to school," Yuri said.

"I can't let anyone ride unless they pay," the driver said.

"I'll pay."

Yuri took Natsuki's arm and pulled her to the back of the bus.

Natsuki took a moment to stare at the taller girl. Yuri had long straight dark purple hair and light purple eyes, and she wore purple barrettes on both sides of her head, positioned upon long strands of hair close to her bangs. Natsuki laughed under her breath. You can tell her style is purple.

Her clothing was the standard uniform. It was a gray blazer with a brown sweater vest over a white collared shirt topped off with a red ribbon. She had a dark blue skirt, white knee socks, and white uwabaki slippers with sky-blue tips.

She walked gracefully, due to the slim long legs she had.

She was pretty. That's all Natsuki could have stuttered out for the matter. Pretty was an understatement. She was beautiful. Natsuki stared at her for a second too long, and Yuri looked away, blushing. Her fingers were twirling her hair.

"T-Thank you," Natsuki said gratefully.

"Y-You're welcome," Yuri answered quietly.

They sat together on the bus ride there, but they didn't talk.

After they got off the bus, the purple girl was gone. Natsuki shrugged and ran off to find Sayori. Sayori was her best friend. She was a year older than her, so she'd know her way around this place. Sayori spotted Natsuki, grabbing her arm and pulling her through the school.

"Wait, Sayori!" Natsuki gasped as they arrived at a door. "Why am I here?"

"This is my club room. I was kinda hoping you'd join...?" Sayori said, giggling.

"I dunno, Sayori. I'm still trying to figure things out at this school. I don't really think I should join a club just yet," Natsuki said, truly sorry to disappoint her friend.

The pink haired girl sniffed the air for a second. She smelled something really good. It smelled like beef, and she was starving! Literally. "I'm sorry, Sayori. I'll be right back."

"Wait!" Sayori grabbed Natsuki's arm. She pulled up the sleeve staring at something.

"For God sakes, please! Are you serious, I just can't believe that you'd hold me back like this. I'm hungry, and I'm sure there's a cooking club here," Natsuki begged.

"I didn't know it got that bad," Sayori whispered.

"Yeah, he still doesn't feed me. Nothing new. Can I go now?"

"It's that bad that you cut yourself?" she said with worry, holding up the petite girl's arm.

There were three cuts along Natsuki's wrist. They looked fresh. She didn't remember doing that. I don't cut myself, she thought, a worried expression on her face. At how bad it looked, it should've hurt. Surprisingly, it didn't. She didn't even feel it.

"I can't believe you never told me," Sayori said, tears in her eyes.

"I–"

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