Phighting oneshots (CLOSED PLS STOP REQUESTING IM BEGGINH)

Leap of faith // Shuribox angst (TW)

MAJOR TW.
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SUICIDE AND SELF HARM TALK. DO NOT READ IF UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THESE TOPICS.
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Shuriken rolled his eyes out of annoyance. He was in another lecture from his sister, Vinestaff.

She complained and complained, telling Shuriken that what he did was dangerous, not that he cared anyway. All her yelling was blurred out, the words morphing together to make a slosh of incoherent sentences. He stared at Vinestaff, eyes half lidded in a daze. Suddenly, Shuriken felt a grip on his forearm, snapping him out of his daydreaming.

"THIS. THIS IS THE RESULT OF YOUR REFUSAL TO TELL ME ANYTHING. THIS IS WHY YOUR BLOOD STAINS MY SCISSORS, MY HANDS." Vinestaff yells, gripping shurikens arm harder. He hisses, it burns. He stares at her, she knows the cuts are fresh. Shuriken is brought back to the reality he hates. Alas, she's still yelling at him.

The pain hits heavily on Shurikens arm, he snatches it back, beginning to hyperventilate. His breaths shorten yet quicken, heart racing a million times an hour. His head may be in the clouds but his body still feels the pain. It hurts. He knows it, and so does she.

"I need time," Vinestaff sighs, she's tired of yelling and yelling to no avail. She begins to walk away, not to anywhere specific but somewhere away from here. Trying to talk to Shuriken is like yelling at a brick wall, it doesn't budge. He's stubborn, it'll be the death of him. He's a trickster, he has ears like a dog. Yet his hearing is so selective.

Shuriken checks his arm, flipping his forearm around to see his wrist. The bleeding has started up again. He didn't care to clean it, he loved the pain anyway.

He was sick and tired of this.

Sick of the lectures, sick of the pain, sick of the guilt. Oh, the guilt. Guilty for hurting not himself; but his lover Boombox.

Boombox was perfect, no words could explain how much shuriken loved him. From his hair to his visor, he could name a thousand things that were beautiful about Boombox. But yet, he hated him so much.

Boombox knew of Shurikens problems, that was the worst part. Every slash of the skin was accompanied by pain and guilt. Guilt for his beloved. Boombox hated when he cut himself, or even spoke bad about himself. He would constantly remind Shuri that he "deserved better." Shuriken begged to differ.

Shurikens ears rang, feelings and thoughts, desires, flooding his mind. He grit his teeth and shut his eyes, bringing his hands to his head in frustration. He dug his fingernails in his temples and dragged down slowly. He needed these thoughts out.

Maybe the guilt would be gone if he died.

He couldn't, Boombox would hate him. But Shuriken couldn't care if he were dead.

It seemed very tempting. It could mean an end to the cuts, an end to the lectures, to the pain, to the guilt. All would be over.

The blood from earlier dripped down shurikens tattooed arm, the crimson red blood masking the green marks. In tribute of his sister, to which he now regretted. His sister didn't care, he was sure of it. If she really cared, she would have been more sympathetic to shurikens situation, not yell at him.

Shuriken already felt guilty enough for his lover, and now this? It was all too much.

He began to give in to his thoughts, believing it was the only way out. While impractical, it was easy.

Tomorrow it would be new years.

Shuriken would go to the top of his apartment, they don't have a fence.