a/n: trigger warning - mentions of self-harm, bullying, physical abuse/harm (?), some derogatory/inappropriate language.

The first time Akaashi cut himself was after school, in the boy's bathroom. It had only been a few weeks since Akaashi had confessed to Bokuto, and already the news had spread like wildfire; the gay, quiet kid confessing to the most popular guy, the volleyball team's ace, and getting rejected. Although Bokuto had not outright rejected Akaashi, homophobic students in his school were all too eager at the prospect of getting a kick out of Akaashi's misery. Akaashi had blocked Bokuto on all social media and his phone number in case the grey-and-white haired boy ever tried to contact him again. He knew that if he ever spoke to Bokuto again, it would not only be him getting taunted and teased, but that it would affect Bokuto as well.

The bullying started the day after. The male students who had eavesdropped during Akaashi's confession approached him while he was alone in the homeroom classroom after school. Unfortunately, Akaashi had solo cleaning duty that day, which meant that he was practically the only student in his grade left at school, meaning that he became an easy target for the bullies. As he was cleaning gum from underneath a desk, he suddenly felt a hand roughly grab him by his shirt collar and yank him up. He saw at least five unfamiliar faces of other male students, probably those who admired Bokuto or had attempted to approach him because of his popularity.

"Look at you," The one holding him by his collar laughed crudely, "You were already disgusting before, Akaashi, but did you seriously think Bokuto-kun would actually...like you back?"

Laughter broke out from the other students, hollow and cruel, and Akaashi gritted his teeth.

"Did you fantasize about him? Did you touch yourself while thinking of him, you fag?"

The other students only laughed harder, and the student holding Akaashi by his collar yanked him up and threw him to the side viciously.

Akaashi felt his back collide with the hard wall off the classroom and pain ebb through his body, coursing down his spine and the back of his head. Groaning, the black-haired boy winced and sat up, looking up to face the male students that were towering over him.

"Aw, did that hurt? Are you going to scream and cry for help?" One of them cooed condescendingly, sneering in his face.

"It's better if I don't fight back. At least then they'll get tired of me eventually." Akaashi thought, blinking his eyes furiously as he willed the tears not to come, "I can bear it."

"No response?" The male student asked, seemingly displeased by Akaashi's response. "Guess we'll have to kick one out of you, huh?"

The shock came before the pain as the student kicked Akaashi in the stomach, causing a strangled gasp to emit from the black-haired boy's throat. He felt as though all the oxygen had left his lungs as the pain slowly spread across his torso.

In that moment, Akaashi accepted the fact that these bullies were on a completely different scale from the kids who had bullied him when he was younger. Although they did beat him up, they were much more innocent, only doing so because he was different and they were not mature enough to understand or accept him for who he was. These students, however, were the same age as him. They kicked him, punched him, strangled him out of pure, bloodthirsty hatred. They had no morals, nor any empathy. They simply wanted to watch him suffer and bleed; they gained pleasure out of wrecking him and breaking him bit by bit.

One week after, Akaashi was sitting on the toilet, looking down at his bruised arms in the dim light. He wanted to convince himself that all the bullying from his childhood had numbed him to such mistreatment, but high school students were much more brutal and merciless in their bullying, beating him until he could no longer stand up and had to crawl around for an hour or two to get around or to leave the school.

Looking down at his blemished and damaged arms, a sudden thought flitted across his mind.

"I wonder what the bullies feel like when they see me injured?"

Without thinking, the black-haired boy drew out a pocket-knife from his pencil case in his backpack, which he normally used during Art.

Sliding the blade out of it's plastic protective sheath, he slowly lowered it to an untouched part of his wrist.

His heart racing, he slit a small line in one single fluid motion, before quickling sheathing the pocket knife.

Akaashi watched as blood slowly gushed out of the cut that he had made, dripping down the sides of his arm onto the ceramic tile floor.

"Ah...I see...this is what it feels like..." Akaashi whispered to himself as he watched, entranced, as more crimson liquid spouted from the wound. "It's...interesting...maybe if I do this to myself...I'll be more resistant to what they do. I hope doing this can hurt me more than they can...if I can do this to myself, it means I can withstand whatever they do."

And from that day on, Akaashi continued cutting, making small slits on his arms whenever he could. He never wore short sleeves, not daring to even roll up his long sleeves in hot weather. He knew that the bullying could possibly get even worse if he were to expose his fresh wounds, or that someone would notice and question him about it.

Deep down inside, Akaashi knew what he was doing was so, so wrong, and he knew that if Bokuto knew what he was doing he would be torn. Akaashi blocked Bokuto because he knew that, even if Bokuto didn't reciprocate his feelings, he would've tried to talk to him nevertheless. Akaashi knew that Bokuto still cared for him as a friend. He'd always almost bump into Bokuto, who was constantly seeking him out. Akaashi had gotten better at avoiding him now, determined to keep up his promise of never speaking to the grey-and-white haired boy ever again. If Bokuto found out Akaashi was cutting and getting bullied...he knew that Bokuto would definitely intervene. And if he did intervene, Akaashi would fall all over again for him, and it would become an endless cycle of unrequited love.

No.

Akaashi was satisfied with the way things were. Or so he tried to convince himself.