FukaFlower One-Shots

Bandages (Pt.2)

Same trigger warnings from before; suicide, self-harm, mentions of depression and anxiety

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"Uh, what?"

She tried so hard to fake a confused tone, though by the looks of his expression, it was obvious that she had failed. Even in the dimness of the hallway, it was clear that Fukase had his eyes trained on her, the red hues in them appearing darker than usual. Coupling that with his serious tone did not help Flower feel any better.

"Flower, give me your hand," He repeated the same sentence as before in the same monotonous tone, now holding his left hand, his bandaged hand up, for Flower to place hers in. Normally, she'd curtly reject such an otherwise flirtatious advance.

But under his piercing gaze that was strange and completely new to her, she realised that it was too difficult for her to say no.

I've been caught already. I might as well not rub salt on the wound.

Knowing that running away would only draw more suspicion to her, Flower steadily lifted her left hand for Fukase to see, the state of it clearer in his eyes now that it was in the light. It was just as he had thought it looked like; long white pieces of cloth hastily wrapped around her left wrist, forming a tall and relatively thick arm cover that extended up to her elbow. It wasn't thick enough to hide the fresh, scarlet red splotches of blood near the wrist region, however.

As the redhead inspected her hand, Flower was thrown into an internal panic. Curse her for being so careless and letting out that grunt of pain. Curse her for not turning off the light immediately after she left the bathroom. If she had been more careful in everything that she did, he wouldn't have noticed her reddened bandages so quickly. Heck, maybe he wouldn't have noticed her at all. Then she wouldn't have to mentally prepare herself for a dreadfully long lecture or freak-out session from the loud and usually chaotic prankster who'd probably ask her why she was-

"Head back to your room,"

Huh?

His words caught her by surprise, her violet eyes widening as they settled into her head. "What?" was all Flower could whisper as she lifted her gaze from the ground to the boy in front of her again. Despite him being slightly shorter than her by a few centimeters, the expression on his face made her suddenly feel smaller than him.

His eyes sparked a mixture of concern and sternness as the redhead continued. "Flower, just go back to your room and calm down. I'll help you change your bandages,"

Excuse me? To say that she was confused was an understatement. How... Why wasn't he...

He wasn't freaking out? About the red spots on her bandages? Why wasn't he freaking out??

Even though there were a billion things that she wanted to say to him, the white-haired teen eventually nodded in reply, her head hung low as she trudged her feet back to her room. As she sat down on her unmade and messy bed again and her fingers instinctively rubbed against her bloody bandages once more, she kept thinking of the possible reasons for what happened earlier.

She just couldn't get it out of her head; why in the world did Fukase not freak out when he saw her like that? Why didn't he say anything that resembled a worried question or a concerned comment? Flower had expected him to be angry at her. She expected him to be questioning her. She expected him to burst out in shock as soon as he realized that she was cutting. But he didn't...

Why?

"Flower, you in there?" A voice, his voice, coming from the other side of her bedroom door pulled her back to reality, startling her slightly. "Y-Yeah..." She uncharacteristically stuttered as the door swung open and Fukase stepped in, muttering a quiet 'excuse me' while clutching a white box in his left hand and closing the door with his right.