Random one-shots

My R- H (Haikyuu)

  As Kenna took his shoes off on the rooftop there he saw, a boy with hair black as can be. Wind blew through the boys dark unruly hair, and he looked about to jump from the roof. Kenna also planned to do that but despite himself he went and screamed:
"Hey, don't do it please"
  The boy turned around with a soft smile on his face, before sitting on the ledge and patting the spot beside him. Kenna sat down, there was something enticing about the boy, that drew Kenma towards him, even though he wanted to stay away.
"Why are you here?" The boy asked, almost unfazed by the situation. It almost scared him, the boys demeanor, it was like Kenma could do almost anything to the poor boy and he would just brush it off as if it never happened.
He understood that the boy was asking him why he was there to jump, willing to listen to his woes. "You've probably heard it all before."
The boy didn't look over, he just kept his eyes on the lowering sun. He nodded ever so slightly, beckoning him to continue.
"I really thought he might be the one, until he told me that he was done."

  The boys caring expression never changed, he spoke with no judgement, nor almost anything but care. He spoke softly, "Are you upset that you can't have what you wanted?"
The way the boy spoke was like a kind old lady speaking to a child, and it was oddly comforting. The tone was steady and forgiving, like you could say almost anything and that tone would never change.
"Your lucky that you've never gotten robbed of anything." Kenma thought about what the boy had said, and realized that he hadn't ever been robbed of anything.
"I've listened to you , will you listen to me now?"
"Huh, oh Sure." He didn't expect that question.
The boy let out a sigh before speaking
"I just want to stop the scars that grow"
He paused to brush is sleeve up to reveal lots of long thin scars placed far enough away from the wrist that you wouldn't notice them if his sleeve accidentally raised up. There were so many that Kenma was almost glad that that seemed to happen often, because if it did, his small wrists would be damaged beyond repair.
"Every time that I go home" He then brushed up his shaggy black hair to reveal blood caked just at his hairline, seeming to come from somewhere in that mop of hair.
"I'm-"
"No, you have no idea what any of this even is. So you can't truly apologize."
The boy looked into his eyes and he thought about how the boys eyes reminded him of the concept of sleep. At first it's nice, but the longer you're in them the deeper you realize they go, and soon you have no idea how deep it is and you don't want to be in it anymore. The reason he kept looking though, was because somehow, he wanted to find the bottom, he wanted to see just how deep they go.
He realized he had been staring at the boy and looked away.
"People like staring into my eyes, they say it makes them feel things."
It was almost like the boy wasn't talking to him, finally he realized what it was about the boys demeanor. He was disconnected, the enticement of it was the feeling of wanting to connect him, like connecting a old game to WiFi, there's no reason to do it, but you still try.
600 words

"... did... Feel"
"What?"
"What did you feel?"
"What do you mean?"
"Everybody feels something different when they look into my eyes, what did you feel?"
"I felt like..."
He explained what he thought and the boys asked him a question that he had already thought about.
"Why did you keep looking, even though you wanted to get away?"
"Because I wanted to see how deep they went, I don't know, I guess I just wanted to find the bottom."
"...never find it."
"Huh?"
"You'll never find it, there is no bottom."
Suddenly the meaning behind everything he had said previously got a lot heavier.
He wanted to know more about the boy, why he was so disconnected, why there was blood caked into his forehead.
"What's your-"
"No"
"Why not?"
"Because it will ruin the mood, right now I'm just someone who stopped you from killing yourself and your just someone who stopped me from killing myself"
Kenma nodded in understanding before speaking. "Well my name starts with a K."
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For actually thinking about what I said." He paused before responding to the new information, "My name starts with an H."

Bonus
  The boy grabbed his spray can and hopped on his bike, pedaling to his destination. He hopped off his bike and walked across the barren dirt, devoid of any plants, until he reached the slab he was looking for.
"You know, every time they clean my paint away, it feels like they're ripping a piece of both of us away." He shook the spray paint until he felt the colors were mixed enough and got to work, writing the letters/symbols for
'J
Y
U
G-'
His painting was cut off by a large impact to his head, and he fell over from his crouched position. He cried as he felt the blood run down, getting harsh waves of pain.
"That's what you get for vandalizing graves, You monster!" The man threw the shovel he was holding before continuing, "Who in the hell writes their stamp on another person's grave? You know I have to clean this up every week, and I'm getting sick and tired of you disrespecting the dead!"
The thing was, 'Jyug-' wasn't his name, it was the bodies. His name was Ꮒ-_-=Ꮧ.

*System error*

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