Broken Promises

What good are friends, anyways? I thought that they liked me for who I am, but it turns out that that was a lie. I didn't tell them the truth about myself because I was afraid that they would hate me. I knew that I had to keep my identity as the son of Satan a secret, Yukio and Mephisto told me so. Intuitively, I knew that they were right. I know all this, yet I had to show them anyways.

It hurt, hearing the three from Kyoto gasp in shock, freeze with alarm, stare in confusion. It burned, the flames on my skin. It ripped, my heart when I understood that things would never again be the same between our group. I had thought that we were friends, but I was wrong. I can see that now. Why would anyone want to be my friend? All I can do is hurt people, and I proved it that night, more than before.

This sapphire curse in my genes, I can't escape it. It's programmed into me and I have no choice but to follow it. It is part of what makes me me, and I think that's what hurts the most.

A sapphire is a precious stone. It is blue and beautiful. Blue is a colour associated with happiness, with royalty, with power. Royalty, I have, technically, whether I want it or not. Power, yeah, I'm strong. Happiness? Sadly, I can't make anyone happy, no matter how hard I try. This flame of mine is just like a sapphire. It is all of those things, but it is fragile, it can break, and it is deceptive. No matter how nice it looks, it will always reflect what is just out of reach. For some, it's money. For others, it's an image. For me, when I pull out my flames, I can see the faces of my friends, scarred and burning at the edge of my vision. The friends that I thought I could have, and the friends that now will never be.

Why did Amaimon have to take Shiemi? Why did he have to provoke me? Why was I stupid enough to let out my flames? I should have listened to Yukio, I should have tried harder, why didn't I just fight him off with my fists like I have in the past? Because of that one mistake, I'm now here, soaking in the bath and feeling sorry for myself and no hopes of ever feeling better.

Why did I ever think it was possible for me to have what others take for granted? I know that I'm a hated and unwanted being, so why did I even try? I guess my human half can't give up hope or something stupid like that. I wish I wasn't like this, like I am, I hate it and I hate myself.

Whatever way you look at me, there are two, and neither half is compatible with the other. I'm a twin, the other is Yukio. I have two halves, human and demon. I live two lives, high school student and exwire. I work for the church, but I don't believe in God. I work to help, but I only ever harm. I try to love, but am always hated for it. I act tough, while I'm dying inside. I will talk and joke with anyone, but I am always lonely and afraid. I am alive, I exist, but I'm not so sure that I want to.

What's the point in living if I'm always going to be alone? If it hurts this much, then why do I stay alive? Well, I have two answers. The first is hope that it will some day get better. I suppose that that is probably true, but I'm not really the patient type. The second is that it didn't hurt like this before.

Before what? Before I was betrayed by all of those people that I trusted. Bon, Konekomaru, Shima, Izumo, and Shiemi. All of them broke my heart. The first time in a long time that I let my heart show, and it just gets trampled. I thought that it might be different now that I'm older, now that I've shown them who I can be, let them know me a little before my heritage was revealed, but it didn't matter in the end. In the end, they couldn't be trusted. Too bad I fell for it.

They promised me that they'd be my friends. They promised me that I didn't have to be alone. They promised me that I didn't have to do things on my own anymore, that I could believe in them, trust them, and let them help me when I needed it. How bullshit is that?

As soon as they found out that I was different, they shunned me. Just because my biological father is Satan, they hate me. I didn't even do anything to them this time, I'm just despised on principle. They liked me, or so I thought, until my appearance happened to change. Are people really so shallow? I guess my answer is yes.

I can feel the tears on my face, but for some reason, they don't feel quite real, like this isn't me. I know that I'm crying, but I can't be. For some reason, the hurt feels so distant, like it's behind an imaginary wall.

I wish that this were a nightmare, but if it is, I can't wake up. After their kindness, their acceptance, they all turned and left me alone with harsh words and negativity to keep me company. They showed me their true feelings, so maybe I should show them mine. I know that it's not possible for me to hurt them as much as they've hurt me, but maybe that's not the point. I just want all of this to stop. That's how I truly feel.

It won't take much, it would only take a jump from a high place, a rope and a chair, or even just a small slash to an artery of a vein in a pool of water.

They said they would be my friends, they were, and then they took that away. They left me alone and they are no longer my friends. They broke their promise, and that is what is going to kill me.

I always have my sword with me because the old man told me to never let it go, to never let it out of my sight lest someone take it and release my powers. I'm sorry old man, but that's already happened and it's going to happen just one more time.

It won't be difficult. I reach over the edge of the tub and remove the sword from the cloth case. As I pull the sword from its scabbard, I can see the flames dance along my skin, making me shine like a sapphire in the sun. My ears grow longer, I can feel the horns on my head appear, my tail grows hotter as the flames focus on the end, and I see my nails sharpen into points as sharp as a knife.

I test it with the pad of my pointer finger on my right hand. Blood wells up on the tip and I know what needs to happen next. I stand up and walk over a few feet from the edge of the water. From here, I just crouch and move my finger across the tiles. The red stains the white floor like a pen on paper, the harsh tiles preventing the small nick from closing and keeping the blood from stopping. It really looks quite lovely.

With my pattern complete, I walk back to the water and slide in gently. I can't have it splash all over my design, especially after the thought I put into it. Still glowing with the cold azure light, I place my right hand across my left wrist and savour the anticipation. With a jerk, I slash my nails across the white underside of my arms and watch the water slowly turn red around it. Before it's too late, I make sure to do the same to the other arm. It barely hurts, meaning it's probably not enough. I cross my arms and dig the nails into the skin beneath both elbows. I feel the pinch as the nails dig in deep, then quickly uncross my arms and pull the skin apart.

The red blossoms in the water look very pretty. The stains unfold like flowers as I begin to feel dizzy and heavy. The thoughts in my head run thick and slow as I feel my head slip downwards. The strength leaves my body and I can't even lift my limbs anymore. My head lolls downward, and I submerge completely. The pretty red patterns are all around me now, almost like a blanket trying to comfort me. Why didn't I try that before? Maybe a blanket would have made me feel a little bit better. It's warm and soft, and I guess it would have been comforting while I was alone.

Too late now. I hope they like my note.

Friends only exist to break promises and break hearts.