Scars Can Fade: A TsukkiKage Love Story

Prologue: A Simple Push

January 9th. On this day every year, the process was the same for Kei. A scheduled date: disastrous. Drinks: far too many to count. Designated driver: none.

Jobs to do: just one.

After skirting the edge of unconsciousness three times in the back of a lonely cab, Kei stumbled into his apartment and slammed the front door. Rubbing his feverish temple, he groaned in response to the throbbing pain that sieged his head and forcefully threw himself onto the nearby couch. He kicked his shoes off in annoyance and snuggled into a cushion as the air breathed a sigh of relief: only, it was a moment too soon. Fiercely ending his battle with the bliss of sleep, Kei rose statically, and made a sharp turn to the kitchen. It was like watching a wolf on the howl; scattered metal clattering and puffs of breath mirrored the off tune melody that played in Kei's heart. The floor steadily flooded with shattered glass as he threw random items around in his desperate treasure hunt for his gold.

Finally, he found what he was looking for.

A ray of light bounced off the edge of the sharp blade as its devilish aura took control of Kei. Almost lovingly, he traced the tip of his finger along the edge, revealing a thin stream of crimson liquid that steadily increased in volume. A weary smile teased his face, ignoring the caving of his knees as he collapsed breathlessly against the cool marble tile of the floor.

Three words was all Kei needed to convince himself. Two actions and the deed would be done. One push: was all he needed.

Staring vehemently down at the blade, Kei shuffled uncomfortably in his place before catching a fleeting glimpse of himself in the steel reflection. He blinked, only to be met by a pair of sombre, lifeless eyes waving back at him. Years of tirelessly accumulating tedium and monotony had embedded themselves in Kei's life; frankly, he felt nauseated coming to terms with this fact. For him, this repetitive, lackluster, adventure-lacking existence was worse than the undisclosed details of life after passing on. For him, this was more than enough to persuade him.

Sighing, he allowed the knife to slip through his clutches. He brushed his jeans before haggardly trudging into his bedroom to obtain a single, somewhat faded photograph of him and his older brother. Kei snickered uncontrollably, throwing his head back into a maniacal cackle as he reminisced with the past. It was hilarious to him that, a few years ago, Akiteru was the only one who kept him going. He ploughed through the snowfalls of problems only to please him. So he wouldn't be yet another nuisance in his life. 

Now, this reason was as measly as a coin in a sea of darkness. A sea of which Kei ruled as the rightful prince. Naturally, the coin sunk.

Finished with his loss of rational, Kei tenderly placed the frame back on the nightstand, before delicately latching the bedroom door shut. For the last time. A screech filled the air as the blade screamed at him, compelling him back to the kitchen with its forlorn cries. A deep breath. A brisk blink. A disturbing flash.

Job status: half complete.