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ryuki had always been a cutter. he didn’t know how else to help himself, how else to cope with the tragedy of his parents’ sudden death, and then his brother’s going was the last nail in the coffin, where the downward spiral took an amp up. he had always told himself – i’ll stop, this is the last time, and then i’ll stop, but he never does. he never will. especially not after what he did in the cathedral. there’s not a reason in the world he would stop now.
tama knows ryuki hurts himself. he at least has the courtesy to take her out of his socket and to the side out of shame and guilt for his actions, but it doesn’t make it any less painful for her. she reads the room and doesn’t jab at him for it, but she’s argued with him to stop more times that she can count – she knows he doesn’t deserve it, and he knows he does.
he hid it pretty well for the first year, post accident. tama knew something was up with him, but she was more focused on trying to get him to put down the bottle for a single night. he always made sure to cut when she was charging, as to not alert her to what was happening and let her have her so-called ‘beauty sleep.’
but one night, she finished charging early after the port gave ryuki the wrong estimate. she goes to seek him out, aiming to lighten the mood of the house’s thick atmosphere.
tama walks in, chipper as ever in her chibi form, asking him about something or other until she sees him – totally dazed out, blood dripping sluggishly from his left wrist onto a stained towel below. she stops, wary of what’s happening until she pieces what she’s seeing together and leaps over to help him. she looks between his dead expression and the blade grasped in his hand, and for a moment, she’s scared he’ll strike again.
but all ryuki does is sit there, talking about tearer. talking about a deal he had to make with him.
tama didn’t know. but of course she didn’t. sure, she was always aware of the gap in her memories that day but explained it away in her mind as simply an error in the cloud – what else would it have been? she listens, as it’s all she can do. processing his sporadically told story together, she determines in her being that she will do anything to care for him (as if she hadn’t already taken that oath). she knows he needs someone to keep him in check, and now she knows the real severity of his situation.
but suddenly – after he tells her the most of it, tama interjecting at points to stop his self-deprecating language, or to reassure him that she forgives him, she’s thankful even – he goes into another episode. he mutters weird, disjointed words, his mouth almost glitching for a while before totally seizing up and just… staring into the distance, unmoving. blank.
she's used to these moments, but they’ve been more severe since the explosion. he isn’t here.
allowing herself a moment to collect herself, she takes out the first aid box from its designated cabinet and clicks it open, wiping the dried, cracked blood that clung to ryuki’s wrist. she gasps at the sight of the cuts but puts her feelings aside to properly dress them, mitigating the damage.
she even puts butterfly strips on the deeper ones, tediously holding the skin together. she just wants him to feel cared for, like he deserves to be.
tama sits with him, setting out the situation in her mind while she waits for him to come to – even with her wealth of knowledge, she doesn't know how she'll navigate this. she can’t see a way out. but she's tama god-dammit, and hes ryuki, and she'll help him no matter what. especially after what he did for her.
slowly but surely, he comes back to reality. confused, his mind still piecing itself back together, he doesn't know what's happened at first. it’s been a few hours, but he looks at tama and sees his freshly bandaged wounds and he knows he fucked up.
he freaks out, his mind almost going full shutdown again as he stumbles over apologies and profanity until tama holds his arm - i'm not angry, she says.
i dont blame you, either.
he looks at her, eye brimming with tears and she springs up into his open palm. he holds her close, tight until she feels like she might burst, silently weeping while she comforts him the best she can.
he cries for a while, begging her for forgiveness and every time she reassures him that he already has it from her, he only cries harder, refusing her generosity.
but they reach a point where hes all cried out, and tama feels comfortable enough fitting back into his eye without worrying about him doing any more harm to himself. she prefers being in there with him, anyway.
he quietly changes out of his old clothes, still stained with the blood from earlier. he picks up the towel and puts it in an unassuming drawer by his bed – tama sees it's packed with first aid equipment she didn't even know they had, as well as some simple shaving blades. he chucks the one he was using into the bin, too.
he switches off the light and slowly lays down in bed. he isn't tired – tama knows this too. he starts the conversation, just as
tama–
–ryuki..
they cut each other off – ryuki smiles, and tama thinks it’s the first time she's felt him be genuinely amused since the incident. she takes in the feeling.
she tells him - i’ve said it before, but ryuki... you need to stop blaming yourself for everything. you were forced into that deal with me as bait. you were only trying to protect me. you can’t live like this, you need to move forward.
she feels him look away, he says he doesn't want to talk about that. so, she leaves it. he's been through enough today as is.
still, ryuki, she reprimands him, how long have you even been doing this?! she thinks of the scars, of the drawer.
he’s quiet for a minute, until he turns over in bed. i’ve always done it, he says. well, since my brother, i mean.
i… sometimes, the pain on the inside is too much for my mind to take. i have to put it somewhere outside. make it more real.
tama understands, she feels. but she protests – that doesn't make it ok, she says. all those times without me, what if they got infected?! what if you needed medical help, and i wasn’t there to call?? ryuki, please. can’t you at least…
he rustles in discomfort, and tells her, i won’t stop, tama. i won’t make any deal with you, and i won’t make any promises. i deserve this. i can't stop for you.
she sighs. it's always been all the way or no way with ryuki. but she gets it - that's not something you can just stop at the drop of a hat. he's been doing this for 7 years. the clarity keeps him going too, she knows that now.
okay, she says. okay. but i want you to promise me one thing.
he turns, as if she were laid in bed next to him – ...what is it?
let me clean you up after. at least, let me have that. and if there's any chance i can stop you, come to me.
he huffs – those are two things, tama.
shut up! ugh, you're so specific, do you know that?! i’m being serious.
he agrees. he has to think about it, but he agrees. and tama counts that as a win for today.
she knows she won’t always feel this resigned. she knows she'll try to fight it the next time. she can't help the protectiveness she feels over ryuki – it's programmed into her, anyways.
but this is the routine they hash out. and around once a week, drunk or sober, he takes tama out wordlessly and sadly smiles at her with distant eyes, a thousand words unsaid. she tries to stay silent too.
and always after, she'll bandage him up, hang her jokes up for the night and give him some peace until he finally drifts off to sleep.
she never x-rays through the wall, never tries thermo or even to sneak in. she allows him the privacy he at least deserves in his moment. and when he runs out of space on his left arm, she doesn't comment when he moves to his right.
because she cares for him. because she loves him. and that is simply the way it is.