rebirth. [danganronpa oneshots] DISCONT.

saihoshi // similar.

{ og post date: october 17th, 2020. sfw. tw; s*lf h*rm, s*icide, scars. 1,747 words. }

~

the cuffs of his sleeves unbuttoned and rolled down to his elbow, shuichi stared at his reflection in the mirror. he had been in the bathroom for an unknown amount of time, his thoughts replaying the memories of each mark that were imprinted on his skin. he couldn't count how many were made, there just was too much to check or guess - he did not worry about this, anyway.
the scars were not only showcased on his wrist and forearm; they can be found kissed on his hips, below his hips, his inner thighs, and above his knees. all those years of wearing clothes that covered every inch of his body, all those years of insisting to keep the same outfit on during hot summer days... he didn't know if he regrets it or not.

he is ashamed, though, as this did cause his uncle and friends at the time to worry for him. he hates hurting others, indirectly or directly, unintentionally or intentionally. the attention he got whenever it was pointed out between the group of friends, or when his classmates or teachers gave judgemental stares at his way of dress, was not the goal for his self-inflicted harm.
rather, shuichi did this to remind himself of his mistakes. he had to teach himself a lesson whenever he wronged someone or something - the disappointment is too much to bear, and he had to learn to improve somehow. a terrible way to cope, he was aware; yet it was addicting, like getting hooked on a dangerous drug or the caffeine of bitter coffee.

shuichi closed his eyes as he stood there, reminding himself that he, to some extent, deserved the lines on his body. the lines compared to the paragraphs of a dark romanticism story or poem, which is ironic as his struggles do not compare to the characters in those types of works. and as he remained still in place, the chill of the bathroom rubbing all over him, he remembered the reason he was where he is now.
a killing game. a game where, if you kill and get away with it during a trial, you graduate. this is troubling for him - he was a detective, which means he'll be the reason he can connect all the evidence and target the culprit. inevitably, that would lead to the end of their life. it would be all his fault, and the overwhelming thought of that already is urging him to return to the act of slicing himself open like an apple. the progress of being clean for an entire year, soon to go down the drain.

the empty words in his head were all he could focus on, so much so he did not take notice of the door opening and footsteps approaching.
"shuichi, you there?" a deep voice pierced through his vivid thoughts, resulting in him breaking out of his zone-out session and turning towards the source of disturbance. he had to hang his head and lift his cap just a bit in order to properly catch sight of his classmate, ryoma, standing there. hands in pockets, beanie low on his face, stick in his mouth... he did not appear to be fazed by meeting him here without meaning to.
"ah, ryoma," started shuichi, after a few silent beats passed by. "sorry, am i in your way?"

"no, not at all." he shook his head and took the item between his lips out; "you were far out of reality, though." was he concerned? no, that couldn't be it - he just happened to walk in and talked to him out of interest, that's it. he wasn't openly looking for him, right?
"oh, you know... today has been long, is all. i suppose i am simply tired," chuckled shuichi, as he lifted his hands to dismiss any worries towards him. this did not help his case as it clicked in his head that his sleeves had not been fixed; causing him to quickly drop his arms to his sides and avert his gaze away from the shorter boy. idiot, he thought to himself and closed his eyes once more. he's going to mention it, for sure, he is going to ask about it then scoff in disgust at his attention-seeking actions.
despite his overthinking, this never came out of him. it was quiet between the two, and he could feel his stare on him - it resulted in his entire being to warm up, the chill prior disappearing.

ryoma did not speak for a moment, choosing not to as he knew this conversation can go two ways: shuichi will be let go and repress his issues, or shuichi will be open to talk through what is on his mind. risking it, he held the stick near his mouth once more and kept his eyes on it. "if you think i'll ridicule you for your skin, don't. that would be quite hypocritical of me." he started and waited to see if he'd warm up to the topic if he knew the two can relate to one another.
"what do you mean? if you don't mind me asking," responded shuichi, as he turned his focus back on the short boy. hypocritical... he must have a past with this, as well, which is a bit of a surprise to him. guess that means he shouldn't judge a person by their first impressions.

"the scars. it might be for different reasons, but i still have similar details." he shoved the item he had in his hand into his pocket then began to undo his belt. shuichi blinked a bit before using the brim of his hat to hide his face; his face was turning red from embarrassment, not sure where he was going with this. when he felt a tug on his shirt, he gave in and went back to staring down at ryoma, a breath getting stuck in his throat. on ryoma's thigh, there was a long, defined scar, easy to tell it had been a deep hit - his other thigh had a symmetrical scar, as well. he didn't know what to say.
shortly after, ryoma shrugged off his leather jacket to reveal his own arms: covered with marks that shuichi could only assume was from the burning end of a cigarette. the worst part of it was some of them looked relatively new.

what was he supposed to say? how was he supposed to react? he knows he did this to expose their similarities, and perhaps not feel too awkward about it, but it hurt his heart to see this. because he felt the need to, and he'd feel bad if he didn't, shuichi mimicked the movement of sliding his pants down. he was nervous, there is no doubt about it - it was a strange approach to things, but finally showing someone who can understand his past was comforting, relieving even. the observing eyes on his body could easily be sensed, like he was trying to read between the lines and figure out a deeper meaning.
"how long have you been clean?" asked ryoma, as he kept the same distance from him.
"almost a year-"
"keep it that way."

shuichi raised his brows at what he stated, jaw ajar showing he wanted to reply but the words weren't present. who was he to tell him what to do? it isn't like they were friends or anything, what's the big deal? as if he read his mind, ryoma continued:
"i know, real demanding for a stranger to instruct you to do that, but listen- it isn't worth the pain. rich coming from a person who tried to end his life and smokes cigarettes is probably what you are thinking, too. just take my advice, shuichi; this mechanism will only make you feel worse." he didn't gesture, he didn't emote. he just talked. he was talking to him, giving him support as a person who's dealt with it. shuichi wanted to feel grateful, but there was a lingering weird feeling in his chest - what should he do instead of taking a blade to the canvas?

fortunately, ryoma seemed to figure out just from his expression that he knew what he was asking mentally, and began to further the conversation. advice on using other alternatives that will calm the impulses, finding important reasons to stay sober, that sort of thing. during this, shuichi sat down on his knees, now eye-level with the shorter student to make it easier. his voice was calming, smooth like a slow song; it put him at ease and rid of what was going on in his head beforehand.
he knew, in the past, his family and friends cared, but this felt genuine - hell, both were content with stripping articles of their clothes to draw attention where the mutilated areas were. he didn't even stop himself from pouring out the backstories for why he'd commit such an unhealthy performance once ryoma wrapped up what he wanted to get out.

then that was that. the duo spent the rest of their freetime in a drawn out chat, opening the bottled up feelings they've kept hidden from the world for the longest time until the nighttime announcement blared in the hallway. they learned more about each other, more than expected when they first introduced each other, but neither were complaining. due to the hours long exchange, shuichi made a serious promise to ryoma that he would refrain from relapsing as best as he could; ryoma accepting this and vowing he'd drop his own nasty habits at a slower pace.
it would be a challenge, they knew this very well, though they agreed to do weekly check-ups to stay on top of their promises. shuichi could thank him for forever, endlessly appreciating the help, but all ryoma wanted from him was to wind off the urges. he didn't need to have his ego stroked for being a good person - he simply did what he thought would benefit shuichi.

not that he would admit to it, ryoma was enlightened to know he has someone important in his life he can care for again. he is proud, his only fear was losing him, as most people would be scared about. this time, he won't let that get in his way; ryoma hoshi will ground himself near his side for as long as he can, ensuring he is safe and happy. this knowledge of shuichi being happy, personally, puts him in a happy mood, too.