But What Did You Do To My Heart? {ON HIATUS}

I Don't Really Care

Kazuichi's POV

Kazuichi sat against his door, a bottle in one hand, a blade in the other. He'd been through this before, it wasn't new. With an abusive father, a dead mom, and siblings who didn't care about him, the guilt and hatred for himself tended to pile up. But that wasn't why he was in this position. No, he was here because of himself.

The voices get louder and louder, telling him to do it, to catch them when they're weak. Nobody would ever suspect Kazuichi Souda, the weird pervert stalker who didn't care about anything but Miss Sonia. In fact, they'd think it was anyone but him.

The voices have told him more than once to take her when they were alone. She was a smaller woman, making the take down much simpler. And of course they would never think it's him, because he loved her too much. But he doesn't listen to them. Because that's not how it's supposed to go.

He does want to kill, yes. But not for his sake. He wants to kill to end the game. To end the sick, twisted killing game they were dropped into. And after seeing everyone else's punishments, Kazuichi thought this way of going out was rather...tame.

He looked right in front of him, where a full body mirror stood propped up against the door to his closet. He'd never put it up because he hated looking at himself. But for some reason, he did now.

His pink hair was greasy, and it was pulled into a ponytail at the back of his head, off centered. His jumpsuit was slid down his body, only the pants on him. A white tank top was underneath it. His knees were bent so he could prop each arm on top of them. His shoes were dirty and crusty, a large difference from his siblings. They got new shoes every other week. He'd had these since 7th grade. Not that he was complaining, he was grateful for having any at all.

His eyes traveled back up to his face. There were bags underneath his eyes, a dark purple colour. His face was pale and gaunt, and his lips were chapped and cracked. In short, he looked like hell itself. Well, he wasn't trying to impress anyone. It's not like anyone would be anyway.

He lifted the bottle back to his lips, taking a big gulp. He guessed Monokuma figured they were rule breakers, so he put an aisle in the grocery store for alcohol. And boy was he glad it was there now. That was the last time anyone had seen him.

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Three days ago, when he left to grab himself some booze. Ibuki, Hiyoko, and Mikan were inside, and Hiyoko and Mikan were being oddly civil with each other. The day before, Akane had been executed for the murder of Nekomaru Nidai. His best friend, killed because of her mentor's last wish. He had just wanted something to numb it, to get him buzzed. He grabbed two six packs of beer and left, not even saying hello to the three girls. They thought nothing of it, however, just going back to pursuing the candy aisle while Mikan told them off for it. Fuyuhiko and Hajime had been outside the store when he exited, and the boys found it slightly weirder that he hadn't said hello. Fuyuhiko was Kazuichi's best friend, besides Akane. Hajime was his friend, but they didn't have the same bond.

He'd practically run back to his cottage so he wouldn't meet anyone else. About five minutes after he'd gotten back, someone was persistently banging on his door. He had wearily gotten up and opened the door to see Fuyuhiko outside. No words were spoken between the two, just Fuyuhiko grabbing him and pulling into a hug he could hardly forget.

It was full of concern, comfort, and the love of a relationship that they both knew wouldn't work again. After a few minutes of their hug, Fuyuhiko let go, whispering "be safe, okay? Please." And with a parting look, he left. Kazuichi was left on his own doorstep, more confused and lost and hurt than before. Did Fuyuhiko know his plan? Was that his goodbye to him? If so, shouldn't he have made it a little more...extravagant? Despite his thoughts, he went inside his cottage and locked the door.

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And now here he was, three days later. The only thing he'd eaten was half a grilled cheese somebody had managed to put next to his door in a baggie with a note, asking if he was okay. No, of course he wasn't okay. But he wasn't about to let them know that. There'd been more than a few knocks at his door, some people shouting into the door for him to come out. Nobody had resorted to kicking the door down, however. Odd. If Nekomaru were there still, it'd be their first line of thinking.

He snapped himself out of his thoughts just as another knock came through the door. It was persistent, but not loud. So he let it be. But then someone spoke through the door.

"M-mortal Shark, are you still in there?" Kazuichi put his head against the door. He really wanted to open that door, to just jump into his arms and forget everything, even for half a second. "Shark mortal, the others have been pursuing your existence for the past three days." Kazuichi thought for a moment before deciding hell with it and spoke back through the door. If they really wanted it, he would make sure they knew he was still alive, for now.

"I'm still alive, Gundham, if that's what you're asking." He felt out of breath just by that one tiny sentence. He was exhausted now, and he hadn't spoken more than ten words to this man. A sigh of relief came from the other man. "Would you like to come outside for the rest of the mortals?"

He shrugged. "Not particularly, no. Thank you for checking one, Gundham. Tell the others I'm okay, alright?" He made sure to say it as dismissing as possible, and Gundham got the hint. His footsteps could be heard going down the dock-like path leading from the cottages.

Kazuichi looked at the mirror once more. A single tear fell down his face, landing on the blade of the knife. He made up his mind then. With a quick breath in, he pushed the knife down onto his skin.