I was looking through my documents and found this gem still uncompleted. From last July. XD That's me, KNO the Procrastinator.

Anyway, I've finally finished this. :)

Beware: This contains Mature content in the area of self-mutilation. I really want to advise that if you are (or have ever been a cutter) you refrain from reading this. I certainly don't want this to implant inside anyone a desire to cut or hurt themselves. PLEASE heed my warning.

Disclaimer: Masashi Kishimoto owns Hinata and Neji. Everything else is mine, mine, mine.

Cutter.

Her insides made her crawl.

Her skin was itchy and too tight.

Hinata swallowed; her mouth was dry.

With precise care, she lifted the blade to her skin.

She paused as the chill filled her veins.

You could stop now, stop all of this nonsense.

Hinata ignored that voice in her head.

The blade slipped.

—

The feeling that came with the cutting was a mixture of relief and release.

She was numb to the disappointment of her father, of the clan.

She couldn't feel the inferiority that came when she stood next to her cousin or her sister.

Cutting made her feel safe.

It eased her breathing.

It helped her live.

—

The wounds, if not properly cared for, became irritated and splotchy red.

Hinata hid them in her sleeves.

Her teammates did not ask why she wore such heavy clothing, even during summer.

It was just a part of her, an extension of herself, like her Hyuga eyes.

Neji, her cousin, was more suspicious.

She flinched under his scrutinizing gaze.

It was his role to be her protector, but did he realize that even he could not protect her from herself?

—

A slice through that pale flesh.

Hinata bit her lip as she saw the blood free itself from its papery skinned bondage.

She watched the red ribbon wind down her wrist, into the sink.

She breathed deeply.

Around, the air felt lighter than usual, tinged with that smell of spilt blood.

The door to the bathroom banged open.

Hinata clutched her recently severed wrist, anxious to hide her wound.

It was Neji.

Hinata silently cursed herself for not locking the door.

Neji's sharp eyes, sharper than her own, flitted to the drain where the blood had yet not vanished.

Piercing, he stared at his cousin, looking furious.

Hinata flinched.

She had never been able to bear the weight of his oppressive glare.

Silently livid, Neji shut the door behind him, sliding the bolt in place.

Hinata's pale eyes were wide in fear and apprehension.

What would he do?

Wordlessly, Neji wrested his cousin's arm from her possession, staring at the wounds.

Lines were drawn on her skin, wrist-length scars that could only come from a thin blade.

The line most recently opened was still bleeding.

Neji's mouth was firm and grim.

He avoided Hinata's gaze as he turned on the sink and ran a cloth under the cool water.

The wet cloth soothed the irritation of the cut; Neji pulled a bandage from the medicine cabinet.

Finally, he looked upon his cousin, unable to hide his disgust.

"Why do this to yourself?" he snapped. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

Hinata did not answer. She did not know.

Neji leaned against the wall, exasperated.

After a moment, Hinata murmured, "I'm sorry, Neji-kun."

Neji stared at her and then went to the door, unbolted the lock, and pulled the door open for her.

"If you really are sorry," he hissed as she exited, "then don't do it again."

Hinata blinked.

Was she sorry?

She didn't know.

Her wrist itched.

Review please.

:)