NOTE: Hey, okay, the first chapter is fucking terrible, but I needed to start somewhere. Bear with me, it gets better, i promise. I'll upload weekly, but please PLEASe stop reading if this triggers you. Self harm, suicide, strong language, possible inject but I'm not sure if I want to yet, etc. Be safe, and try to enjoy it.

PROLOGUE: Hiro blankly stared at his bloodstained arm. He didn't care anymore. He didn't remember when the light went out in his eyes, but it had, and now there was a ladder of lacerations in his forearm, and he couldn't feel a thing.

The door swung open. Hiro could feel callused hands on his shoulders trying to shake him back to reality and a muffled voice screaming what sounded like his name, but his vision was blurred and he had long ago lost touch with his senses. Then it all went black.

CHAPTER 1: It had been an awful day for Hiro. Not only had he shredded his only copy of the blueprint for what would've been one of his best projects in Wasabi's laser-induced plasma, but he had also cut his thumb on one of Honey's graduated cylinders (that he had knocked over and broken). This gave way for potential infection, so he ran to one of the emergency kits that were scattered around the lab. In his haste, he caused Gogo to crash into the wall; less than a minute later he found himself cowering under her tremendous voice. Already agitated, he screamed back; the little fight ended with Tadashi breaking the two up, both with red faces and angry eyes.

Gogo screamed at Tadashi to make Hiro go home- an hour later Hiro was walking home, still shaking with anger.

Once upstairs and in his room, he was sulking on his bed and staring at the wall, fuming. He was fuming; Isn't he supposed to be the one who stands up for me? Hiro thought. Why would he send me away instead of telling Gogo to leave me alone? Hiro realized how self-centered he must have sounded, but at the time he was too focused on how out-of-character Tadashi's actions were.

Suddenly, the rage was replaced with twinges of hurt; did Tadashi not care enough to protect him anymore? Was he finally done dealing with Hiro's naive, conceited ways? He felt ashamed and guilty; but he wouldn't bother trying to win Tadashi back. He'd taken him for granted too many times already, and he knew he didn't deserve Tadashi's love. It wasn't like Tadashi had been doing a very good job lately, anyway. It had been going on for a while now.

Hiro walked sullenly over to his desk and pulled out the drawer underneath. Slowly and weakly, his fingers trailed along the scattered objects until he found a small brown box. He pried the lid off with little effort and selected a small, thin blade; ideal for minimal scarring and deep wounds. He shuffled past the door and made sure it was securely locked, then dragged his feet to the bathroom.

He crouched in the corner and rolled up his sleeve; old, pink scars and fresh, crimson slits of dermis. He pushed the corner of the little blade into his skin; not deep enough to lose too much blood, but just deep enough to draw more than necessary. He dragged it in jagged lines down his arm and dropped the bloodsoaked razor to the clean, white floor. He simply sat there, watching little red drops run down his arm. Once the blood was dry, with blank eyes, he stood up and turned on the tap. He scrubbed his arm clean and dried it carefully. By the time he had rolled down his sleeve, Tadashi had run up the stairs and jiggled the doorknob to their bedroom, startling Hiro.

"Hiro? Are you in there?" Tadashi called. "Come on, unlock the door."

Hiro's heart raced; his arm was still weak, the cuts could reopen at any moment if they desired. It wasn't safe with him around so soon. "Y-yeah! I'm here!" Hiro called out. "Well, open the door. Why is it even locked?" Tadashi replied with curiosity in his voice. Hiro swung open the door, startling Tadashi. He turned around and walked to his bed without saying a word. "...Thanks?" Tadashi said, confused as to why Hiro suddenly seemed so hostile.

Hiro crawled onto his bed and absentmindedly pulled his laptop onto his lap with no intention of searching things up. Tadashi dropped his bag where he stood and strode purposefully over to Hiro. He shut the laptop and Hiro let out a groan of frustration. "You weren't typing anyway." Hiro's brow furrowed as Tadashi placed his hands on both sides of Hiro. He stooped over him and tried to read his thoughts, but Hiro's eyes were like walls. "Hiro. There's something wrong. What can I do to help you?" Tadashi asked rather forcefully, and Hiro backed away. "There's nothing wrong. What are you doing?"

Tadashi narrowed his eyes at Hiro, causing Hiro to back away even more. A look of genuine concern spread across Tadashi's face, and he stood over Hiro for a few seconds more. He finally stood up, scratched his head and sighed. "Hiro, I know that you're probably not comfortable talking to me about things, but know that I'm always here to-"

"Tadashi. I. Am. Fine." Hiro interrupted. Tadashi sighed again and walked over to his bed.

Once behind the room divider, Tadashi started stripping off his shirt and grabbed a towel from his dresser. He walked over to their shared bathroom and opened the door. Hiro's heart skipped a beat- he forgot to clean up the blood on the floor. He prayed a collective prayer to every god that he knew of to keep Tadashi from seeing it. He watched with terrified eyes as Tadashi stepped into the bathroom and studied himself in the mirror. Tadashi closed the door and Hiro's heart was pounding uncontrollably. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease don't let him see, Hiro pleaded with whoever might be listening.

The door cracked open, and Tadashi looked at Hiro with worry in his eyes. Hiro knew he had seen it. "Hiro? Why is there blood on the floor?" Tadashi asked, concerned. Hiro stuttered for a few seconds before answering, but was cut off by Tadashi's realization: "Oh! That must be from where you cut your thumb earlier, right?" Hiro nodded profusely and Tadashi smiled. "Okay, well, take care of that thumb. I'll clean it up." Tadashi said. "Thanks…" Hiro sighed with relief as Tadashi closed the door and he heard the distant clang of the trash can closing.

Hiro waited until he heard the echo of Tadashi's footsteps in the porcelain tub to scramble into the bathroom. He opened the door as quietly as he could, tiptoed to his corner, still wet with the water Tadashi cleaned it with. He lifted up the bathroom mat where he had pushed the little blade under and picked it up by the rust-colored, bloody corner. He ran out of the bathroom quietly, carelessly placing heavy footsteps on his way out. Tadashi pulled back the curtain just quickly enough to see Hiro's hand and a glint of metal reflecting off of the cold bathroom light. He turned back, rinsed the rest of the shampoo out of his hair and turned off the water.