Same trigger warnings from before; suicide, self-harm, mentions of depression and anxiety

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"Uh, what?"

She tried so hard to fake a confused tone, though by the looks of his expression, it was obvious that she had failed. Even in the dimness of the hallway, it was clear that Fukase had his eyes trained on her, the red hues in them appearing darker than usual. Coupling that with his serious tone did not help Flower feel any better.

"Flower, give me your hand," He repeated the same sentence as before in the same monotonous tone, now holding his left hand, his bandaged hand up, for Flower to place hers in. Normally, she'd curtly reject such an otherwise flirtatious advance.

But under his piercing gaze that was strange and completely new to her, she realised that it was too difficult for her to say no.

I've been caught already. I might as well not rub salt on the wound.

Knowing that running away would only draw more suspicion to her, Flower steadily lifted her left hand for Fukase to see, the state of it clearer in his eyes now that it was in the light. It was just as he had thought it looked like; long white pieces of cloth hastily wrapped around her left wrist, forming a tall and relatively thick arm cover that extended up to her elbow. It wasn't thick enough to hide the fresh, scarlet red splotches of blood near the wrist region, however.

As the redhead inspected her hand, Flower was thrown into an internal panic. Curse her for being so careless and letting out that grunt of pain. Curse her for not turning off the light immediately after she left the bathroom. If she had been more careful in everything that she did, he wouldn't have noticed her reddened bandages so quickly. Heck, maybe he wouldn't have noticed her at all. Then she wouldn't have to mentally prepare herself for a dreadfully long lecture or freak-out session from the loud and usually chaotic prankster who'd probably ask her why she was-

"Head back to your room,"

Huh?

His words caught her by surprise, her violet eyes widening as they settled into her head. "What?" was all Flower could whisper as she lifted her gaze from the ground to the boy in front of her again. Despite him being slightly shorter than her by a few centimeters, the expression on his face made her suddenly feel smaller than him.

His eyes sparked a mixture of concern and sternness as the redhead continued. "Flower, just go back to your room and calm down. I'll help you change your bandages,"

Excuse me? To say that she was confused was an understatement. How... Why wasn't he...

He wasn't freaking out? About the red spots on her bandages? Why wasn't he freaking out??

Even though there were a billion things that she wanted to say to him, the white-haired teen eventually nodded in reply, her head hung low as she trudged her feet back to her room. As she sat down on her unmade and messy bed again and her fingers instinctively rubbed against her bloody bandages once more, she kept thinking of the possible reasons for what happened earlier.

She just couldn't get it out of her head; why in the world did Fukase not freak out when he saw her like that? Why didn't he say anything that resembled a worried question or a concerned comment? Flower had expected him to be angry at her. She expected him to be questioning her. She expected him to burst out in shock as soon as he realized that she was cutting. But he didn't...

Why?

"Flower, you in there?" A voice, his voice, coming from the other side of her bedroom door pulled her back to reality, startling her slightly. "Y-Yeah..." She uncharacteristically stuttered as the door swung open and Fukase stepped in, muttering a quiet 'excuse me' while clutching a white box in his left hand and closing the door with his right.

Silence enveloped the room as he steadily walked over to her, first turning on the bedside lamp and filling the room with a little light before placing the first-aid kit on the bed covers and taking a seat on her left side, closer to the injury he intended to inspect. At that moment, Point hopped off of his shoulder and onto her bed, intending to explore the new area that it had never seen before.

Flower would have protested if it weren't for Fukase talking to her again. In the same stern yet monotonous voice from before, he softly spoke to the guilt-ridden girl. "Let me see your hand,"

She obediently passed her left hand to him, ashamed of what she had done but compliant nonetheless. The teen simply sat there quietly like a child being scolded while Fukase gently unwrapped the white cloth coiling around her wrists. As the bandage grew thinner and thinner, the pulse on her wrist increased wildly, a side effect of putting too much pressure on an open wound and then suddenly releasing that pressure.

Even in the dimly lit room, the horizontal lines across her skin were as clear as day. Some of them were faint and copper-colored, likely from previous attempts, but most of them were bright red. The warm colors of those wounds brought back Flower's memories of the bathroom. Red on her wrists. Red on her fingers. Red on her blade.

It was red... Just like his hair and his eyes and his... glare...

But the male teen next to her didn't seem to care about the number of cuts on her wrists. In fact, he barely commented on them. Instead, he gently placed her hand down on his lap and reached for the first-aid kit, pulling out an antiseptic wipe. He didn't speak as he tore it open and held her hand again, tenderly wiping the cold, alcohol-filled cloth across her new cuts.

As much as she didn't want to interrupt the silence, the sting was unbearable. "Ouch,"

Fukase stopped as soon as she started wincing. "Sorry, I should've warned you before I started doing this," He murmured an apology before continuing, his strokes now gentler than before. "I'll be more careful from now on,"

Hearing him sounding so genuine made her feel even more guilty. "You don't have to-"

"But I want to,"

Flower didn't know how to reply to that, and so she remained silent, instead watching as Point stumbled around her room, its field of vision only supported by the bedside lamp that could only shine light for such a distance away from it. Soon enough, the doll was tripping over its own feet and face-planting against the floor time and time again. It looked downright amusing, and maybe that was what it was trying to do on purpose. To make her laugh.

But... no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't.

"I'm gonna guess this is why you looked so tired earlier, huh..." The redhead mused softly, bringing her attention back to the sight of him bandaging her left wrist. At this point, he had disinfected all of her cuts and wiped away all the excess blood, some tissues with red splotches being placed on top of the pile of bloody bandages that she wore before. After applying some antiseptic cream on a cotton swab and placing it on her wounds, he began to methodically wrap her arm again with a fresh new roll of medical bandages, putting enough pressure so that it would stay on, but not too much pressure that would cut off all the blood flowing through her hand.

Right... Having a tight bandage around blood vessels not only cuts off blood flow, but also makes the wound itchy. She should've remembered that.

Meanwhile, Fukase gazed at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. When he figured that she wasn't going to speak, he dropped it altogether. "Well, I'm not forcing you. You don't have to explain if you don't want to,"

" ... Looks like I can't fool you, huh..."

After a moment of absolutely no noise at all, Flower finally spoke, her voice sounding muffled and apathetic. Even though she sounded more emotionless than usual, Fukase did not respond, keeping his focus on bandaging her arms.

"I can fool Piko, Miku, Miki... Rin, Len, Oliver... But not you," She mused helplessly, almost pathetically. Like she was sick and tired of herself. Again, Fukase did not say anything as he finished dressing her wounds and gave her wrist a little pat like how a doctor would to commend a child for being brave through their treatment.

As he packed away the tube of antiseptic cream back into the first-aid kit and bundled up the trash pile of contaminated wrappers and tissues into a small plastic bag he brought with him, the girl raised her hand close to her and pressed her fingers against the new dressing he had done for her. She willed for her mouth to say 'thank you', willed for her heart to be filled with gratitude for his help, willed for herself to feel anything-

But she felt nothing. And instead, she asked in a slightly suspicious tone that came out too naturally. "Why is that?"

Outside of the house, a lone autumn wind blew by, picking up a swirl of dried leaves on the ground, carrying them somewhere away from here. If only her problems could be blown away that easily, Flower thought to herself.

In front of her, Fukase let out a long sigh. The expression in his mismatched eyes gave her mixed responses; he looked as if he was worried, stern and sad for her all at once. "Flower..." He muttered, eyebrows furrowing as his lips curved into a frown. "It takes one to know one,"

She was flabbergasted. "What?"

"Why do you think I wear bandages?"

"Is it not because of your... oh,"

Of course... The reason why he did not freak out about her cuts, or how he knew how to treat them, or how he knew that he couldn't just burst in front of her... All of that made sense if he had been in her position before.

The guilt building up within her grew. Flower had initially assumed that Fukase's messed up skin was the reason why he wore his bandages. She was wrong. "I'm sorry,"

"Sorry for what?" He asked back in a tone void of malice. It would have felt like he was trying to refuse her pity had it not been for the dark shadow over his eyes. "It's not your fault-" He paused, almost unsure of what he just said. Better keep that under wraps, Fukase. He mentally scolded himself. Now isn't the time to tell her your problems when she already can't handle her own.

"Anyway," He continued, attempting to change the subject while he picked up the first-aid kit, almost ready to leave the room. "I won't tell the others about this, I promise-"

"No, I mean..." She could detect his intention to leave her, causing her to go on an auto-pilot mode for just a moment. For some reason, perhaps the fact that Fukase was now the only one who knows how vulnerable she was, she had the urge to keep him here with her. "I'm sorry... that you have to deal with me,"

He froze. That was very unexpected. "Flower..."

"You probably didn't expect me to be... like this, did you?" She chuckled pitifully, shifting uneasily on her bed. "Me, of all people, depressed and... suicidal. Cutting myself so much like it doesn't hurt at all,"

Fukase said nothing, only looking at her with a concerned expression on his face as she continued. "It just... I don't know how to describe it, I just needed to feel something, anything to make sure that I'm still alive. That I'm not some hollow and empty person who can't feel anything,"" She rambled, her hands fidgeting and brushing across each other as she remembered the times she held that blade in her hands.

"Even though you probably can't tell that 'cause I'm so stone-faced all the time. I mean, look at me. Cold and stoic, always trying to stop you from pulling elaborate and useless pranks for no good reason, never truly caring about other people and now..." She stopped in the middle of her rant and took a deep breath, sounding both frustrated and fed up with her weak mind.

"Now you know why I act that way. Because I'm nothing more than a-"

"Flower,"

A warm sensation found its way to Flower's senses, cueing her to look to her side and see Fukase's left, completely bandaged hand placed on her shoulder. " ... Yes?"

" ... Why didn't you tell us?" His mismatched eyes were trained on her with the ferocity of a predator on its prey coupled with an unwavering sadness. "Why didn't you tell us what's wrong? We could've helped you..."

"Why didn't I tell you? What could you do?" She clicked her lips. "I mean-"

He cut her off with words that he was way too familiar with. "You feel like we can't understand what you're going through and that no one can help you, right?"

"How-"

"My bandages, Flower," As she was about to say something else, the male teen thought ahead and placed both of his hands on her shoulder, forcing her to look at him. "And exactly the reason why you should've told us something,"

At that, Fukase shifted closer to the white-haired girl, the contrast of his normal right eye and his 'demonic' left eye made clearer in the light of the bedside lamp. His fingers held her shoulders tightly as if he wanted to keep reminding her to focus on him and his words. And judging by the low tone of his voice, that assumption wasn't wrong.

"Look, I know I'm always acting like a clown around everyone and I know you might not believe me. Honestly, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't," She had expected a chuckle from him, but all Fukase did was shrug at her, reminding her yet again that this side of him was being dead serious. "But Flower, if there's one thing that I need you to take me seriously for..."

"It's that... I hate to see you, or anyone for that matter, hurting yourself,"

She found that hard to believe. It was probably due to her repressed depression steering her thought process. Despite barely receiving a proper response from her, the redhead continued with just as much conviction as he had before. "I might not know exactly what you're going through, but I know how much of a mess you might feel inside. How much you want to just... disappear or feel something out of nothing..."

He had to stop himself for a second as his face drooped at the words he was saying. No doubt were they stirring up old memories for him. Flower almost wanted to stop him from speaking if it weren't for Point climbing onto the bed after pulling himself up by latching onto the covers. The doll had quickly sensed that its master was feeling rather negative and as it always does during such situations, it swiftly sat on Fukase's lap and hugged his torso with its small hands. The sad look on the teen's face slowly brightened after receiving Point's little act of affection, clearing his mind so that he could speak with Flower again.

"Maybe you're right, maybe I can't fix anything, maybe I can't make you feel better so quickly," He admitted, shrugging his shoulder sheepishly again even though his facial expression remained serious. "But that doesn't mean that I'm not gonna worry about you when you're hurting yourself like this. Hate to lecture you, but you know it's not healthy, right?"

" ... Yeah, I know..." She whispered unaudibly. Whether or not he heard her was completely up in the air; his grip on her shoulders did not change as he continued.

"I know you might be feeling like crap right now, but from one person to another, let me tell you; talking to someone about it always helps. It might not seem that way, but it's true," Knowing that her anxiety-filled mind wouldn't believe such meaningless words pushed Fukase to explain further. "You can't just bottle it up; it'll eventually kill you if you're not careful. And if you want..." He trailed off a little as his hands slid off her shoulders, his attention now tuned to the quickened beating of his heart.

"You can talk to me about it,"

At that, her mauve eyes lit up at him. "Really?"

"Yeah, it's totally fine," For the first time that night, the redhead gave Flower a small warm smile. "I promise that I won't judge you and I won't tell the others anything. It'll be just between us," He proclaimed as he held up his left hand like he was making an oath.

"Are you sure? I don't want to bo-"

"It's not a bother at all," He interrupted her with a shake of his head, the smile on his face unwavering. "Whenever you need a shoulder to cry on, I'll be there for you, okay?"

" ... Fukase?"

"Yes Flo-?"

Before he could finish, Fukase found himself being tackled by the teenaged girl, her hands coiling around his body as she gave him a tight hug. The sheer realisation that she wasn't alone in her fight, along with the relief of finally being comforted by someone had been too much for her to suppress. Though she managed to conceal it from him, the dams in Flower's eyes had been cracking and chipping away the whole time, threatening to expose her vulnerability as Fukase was bandaging her wounds and comforting her.

But now, hearing that he wasn't upset or mad or even disappointed in her made those dams crash and crumble into nothing, her pent-up fears and anxieties breaking through her barriers and flooding into reality in the form of tears. Though her initial tears came out in the form of shortened gasps, a single pat on her back was enough to elicit a loud sob from her mouth as she poured out all of her negative thoughts.

While she sobbed into his sweater, Fukase slowly wrapped his own arms around the crying girl, a comforting smile inscribed on his face as he held her gently and protectively in his embrace. Sure, he didn't know what had caused her to become such a mental wreck, but that didn't matter to him. Even if he couldn't do anything to help her, the least he could do was give her a listening ear.

Just like how he had someone to listen to him when he was struggling. The redhead's smile brightened at the memory. "So this was how it felt like to help someone just like you, huh..." He muttered to himself.

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"Sorry that I messed up your sweater, Fukase,"

He simply waved it off like it was nothing. "It's fine. I'll just toss it into the washer and it'll be as good as new," He reassured her as he stood by her door, ready to head back to his room. "Anyway, you get some sleep, okay?"

Flower nodded. "Okay... And Fukase?"

He turned back to her, waiting for a reply.

"Thank you... For everything,"

" ... Anytime, Flower,"

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A/N: Kind of a dark one-shot to start this off... Hope you still enjoyed it regardless. ^^;;