Naegami Oneshots (Discontinued)

Never Succeed

*Thank you @-echantedspells for this idea!*

*This chapter takes place where they live at the school but they're not in the killing game. My friend was confused when she read through it so just clearing this up.*

WARNING: SELF HARM, VERBAL ABUSE, DEPRESSING AND SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, MENTION OF PARENTAL ABUSE

BYAKUYA POV

I sat alone in my room, staring at my arms. The scars covering them were so frequent you could barely see my actual complexion under them. I set out a sigh. I'd done this to myself over the course of several months, almost a year now. I let a tear roll down my cheek as I continued to think aimlessly of my past actions. I'd practically killed all of my siblings for my own success, but I had to. I had no choice, right? I squeezed my eyes closed and dug my nails into my arms. I gasped as a shock went through my damaged skin. I smiled slightly as the pain coursed through them. 

I deserve this. I deserve pain. I deserve the discomfort of a blade piercing my skin for a near year. I'm worthless. I'm a failure. I'm an overprivileged, petty, worthless failure. My nails dug deeper into my arms. I slowly moved them up my arms from my wrists to the creases of my elbows, tearing a couple scabbed over cuts and drawing a bit of blood. I felt my entire body twitch, though I was used to this by now. 

I don't deserve the title of Ultimate. Yes, I fought and put in effort, but I did it only for myself. If I didn't care for my reputation, maybe I'd be a nicer person. I want to open up, but the only person I can do that for is Makoto Naegi. I love my boyfriend, but he doesn't know all my secrets yet. He doesn't know my history, my past, the fact that I've been hurting myself. I want to tell him, but he wouldn't care. He'd laugh and leave me. He'd think I was a petty loser who doesn't appreciate his privilege. I'd think the same thing if I were him, in fact I do. I am a loser. I am incompetent. I am nothing. 

I laid down in my bed, removing my fingers from my stinging skin and rolled my sleeves down. I looked around at my dorm, expensive things that served no purpose lining the walls and desks. I closed my eyes and drifted in a restless sleep. 

THE NEXT DAY

I walked out of my dorm and headed to class, putting on my confident persona. I passed Makoto in the halls on my way and kissed him on the cheek as I passed. He smiled at me as I continued toward the classroom. He ran up to me and we walked together. It felt nice to have him there for me, but I felt I didn't deserve it. I don't deserve any comfort. I don't deserve anything. 

I sat down at my desk and class started. I was only half paying attention though. I had spent the time staring at the floor, wishing I was a better person. I just wanted to be good enough. I'll never be good enough. 

I smiled as I pressed down on my arms. It was nice knowing justice was being served. I had hurt others, so I deserve to be hurt in turn.

The teacher passed out tests, but I was too distracted to pay enough attention to it, so I just scribbled in random answers. It hurt to write, but I deserved the pain. I wanted to die. I just wanted to fucking die. Dark thoughts kept appearing in my head. I thought of what I could do to myself if I wanted. I could sneak to the kitchen and take a knife down on my wrist. I could watch as I bled out through my arms. Or I could hang myself or jump off the roof, both classics. I could stab myself in the stomach with a quill of some sort for a more creative death. The more I thought about hurting myself, the more I wanted to. I wanted to hurt myself so badly. It was an urge I couldn't resist. I looked at my desk, then a thought occurred to me. I sneakily ripped off the edge of my test and brought my hands under my desk. I rolled up the smallest bit of my sleeve and repeatedly tried to give myself a paper cut. Unfortunately, it wasn't working as great as I wished. I couldn't position it correctly to make an incision. I sighed and threw the small scrap to the ground in frustration. A wave of anger and sadness flushed over me and I almost couldn't hold back a scream. I quickly grabbed my pen off the desk and raised it slightly above my leg, not enough for anyone to notice. I was about to thrust the surprisingly sharp ballpoint into my leg when the bell rang. God fucking damn it! Just let me hurt myself!