Type: Vocaloid x Vocaloid

Main Characters: Gumi, Yuma

Author's Note: this has some language in it, and...well, I'll let you tell me what you think of this one-shot.

~~~~~

The water was hot, but I shivered anyway. My green hair clung to my back, my front, my everything. It was too long. I was too wet. The water hid my tears and it washed the blood away. Hair and blood mixed together was beautiful.

My world was usually like a newspaper because it was made up of three colours: black, white, and red. Black, white, and blood. I knew there were other colours, and like I said, it was usually, not always, those three. Whatever. Green and pink and blue and all that shit doesn't count. I'm an idiot, so I go on like this sometimes. Maybe it would be better if the world was actually only black, white and red, but who can say, right?

Look, my life was a mess, okay? I didn't have one of those stupid 'happy' childhoods where the dad and mom play with their kid on the slide, no. I was the kid on the rusty old slide with cuts and bruises and bloody wounds being infected by the bacteria on the shitty slide. Those perfect parents were nowhere to be found. They didn't like their little green haired kid, so they just left her.

I grabbed a fistful of my hair and chopped it off, letting it fall into the tub. Now it only reached to my jawline. I did the same with the rest of my hair till it was mostly even. Then I looked at my arms momentarily before flipping the scissor blades open and cutting across my flesh in one swift movement, crying out only slightly as red began to dot the length of my wound before seeping from it and making the water pink. The cut burned but I liked the burn. I needed the burn. I deserved it. If I didn't do this, I'd do something worse.

I went again, this time parallel to the last one. I let them bleed and bleed and bleed before falling to the hard ceramic flooring of the tub, holding my head in my hands and bawling like and absolute idiot. I hiccuped between sobs and my legs were still in the stream of water, being scalded more. The scissors were lying by me, still a little bloody. I snatched them up and cut along my inner thigh, gasping as I bled more than I should've.

"Shit!" I stumbled to my feet and stepped out of the tub, mumbling, "Rest, elevate, direct pressure..."

I grabbed a small, white towel and pressed it against my inner thigh, trying to calm myself down, getting back into the tub and extending my leg so that it was supported by the tub's ledge.

"Dammit, stop already!" I cried. Why was I like this? Even I don't know the answer to that question. I lived alone, I had a shit past, and my mind was a mess. I was an empty husk. I should've just removed the towel and let it bleed. I should've grabbed the scissors and cut across my chest. I should have died, but I couldn't. Why? Well, I knew the answer to that question.

I didn't have anyone, but I wanted someone, a certain someone. The only reason I didn't let myself bleed to death or hurl myself of a bridge was because of him. I liked him, and it was stupid, liking him, because I'd never be able to tell him that I liked him. He wasn't super popular or anything. I just liked him because he seemed like he was what I was missing.

Except there was one problem, and that was where my shitty life got worse. This other girl liked him. She knew I liked him, and I knew that she liked him. We weren't friends, but we weren't enemies, either. We were both afraid and stupid and shy, though I was the only one who cut myself and did stupid things like that.

This other girl, IA, was pretty, really pretty. She had long, pale blond hair that was partly braided. I had drab, weird green stuff that was supposed to be hair. Her eyes were big and blue. Mine were big and green, just like my stupid hair. She was slender and had smooth, perfect skin. I was skinny and small, and my body was covered in scars from all the times I made myself bleed.

IA asked me kindly that day, like you'd expect from a girl as wonderful as her, to meet her at a small cafe after school. I could never say no to her. I didn't want her to end up like me, because my life was screwed up in every possible way.

"Of course," I tried to smile but it didn't work. My thigh still hurt. I wore long sleeved shirts and long pants because my scars weren't something the world should have to see. My pain was mine, and it was private. I was hurt enough. Nobody else needed to be hurt.

We were sitting in the cafe on chairs opposite each other. The girl had treated me to a hot chocolate and I actually drank it down. It was soothing. It helped fight the urge to throw myself in front of a car and end my miserable existence.

"Gumi, we need to talk," she said, taking a sip of her drink, "It's about him."

"I don't..."

"No, I know you do," she said, "You want to talk about him, and we need to talk about him."

"Fine," I looked down at the table, "Go. Say it."

"I'm going to confess to Yuma," she said. My head snapped up and I gaped at her, "I'm giving you three days, Gumi, to tell him. If you don't want to, then after school, on the third day, I will tell him."

"I don't need your stupid three days," I mumbled.

"But I want you to have a chance," she said. She really was too nice. She was too, too nice. Too perfect. So much better than me.

"I don't want your pity," I spat.

"It's not pity, Gumi, it's..."

I pushed my chair back and stormed out of my seat, walking away before the girl could continue. My fists were clenched and my teeth were grit. I wanted to collapse in a corner and die, but I couldn't, because I liked Yuma, I really did.

He didn't deserve me, though. I was a scarred and stupid girl who cut herself and hated her life. I barely had enough money to buy groceries, and I had no one.

But that was why I wanted him. It was just the feeling that I got whenever I saw him that made me think, for some reason, that he was what I was missing. He was what I needed to stop cutting myself, to stop hating life, to get over my past, as bad as it was.

I needed him, but I would be poison to him. I was vile and gross and twisted and messed up. I needed him to pull Gumi, the Gumi inside the scarred body, out of the bloody, crude mess that she was drowning in. She didn't have much time left, but what scared me was the possibility of pulling him into my mess. I didn't want that, but it was bound to happen.

I went home and cried. That was all I did. Some of the towel's fibres from the other day had gotten stuck in the cut on my thigh, and I was starting to feel afraid of dying. I tried asking myself why, and the darkness inside me answered.

I wanted to see IA and Yuma together before I killed myself. I was going to do it, but I had to see IA smile. I wanted her to get the happy ending she deserved.

The next day was the first day. I took a shower but I left the scissors in my drawer. I washed the cuts and applied bandages and antiseptic. As I walked to school, I looked around to see if I could spot Yuma, and I did, but I admired him from a distance. He was walking alone, his mind somewhere else. He probably wasn't thinking about hurting himself. That was what I did.

"IA," I approached her at the end of the first day, "You should just tell him that you like him."

"No," she shook her head and replied, "You have two more days, Gumi."

"You're wasting your time," I said. She ignored me and walked away.

On my way back home, I took note of busy roads where I could get hit by a car, and I checked out bridges that I could throw myself over. I had two more days, just as IA had said. Two more days till I made the jump.

I did my homework that night, which was rare. I put my scissors on the highest shelf in one of the kitchen cupboards and thought about trying a knife, but I quickly told myself no. Maybe in two days, I could do that.

"IA, I'm serious," I said the next day, "Please."

"No," she said again, "Gumi, if you don't want to do it, then don't. I'm still going to wait till the three days are over."

"They practically are!" I yelled, "Tomorrow's the last day! Just tell him already!"

She left without another word. I cried on the way home, tripping and falling, too, scraping my knees on the pavement. I sat there for a while, watching the cars zip by. If that stupid girl told him, I wouldn't have to live through another fucking day. I wanted to die, but at the same time, I didn't.

I used my scissors that night. I had just come out of the shower without using them - they were still in the cupboard at that point - but as I padded across the floor, sopping wet and without a towel, I felt a sudden urge to go out into the balcony and hurl myself off the railing.

"No, no, no...," I whispered, shaking and realizing that I needed to bleed or else I'd explode and kill myself before I was supposed to, "Fuck..."

I got the scissors and hurried to my room, standing naked in front of the full length mirror with the silver object in my hands. Their red handles seemed so juvenile, like the scissors you'd find in a kindergarten classroom, but the blades were sharp, tapered and lethal. I sucked in a breath and pressed the open scissors against the already scarred flesh of my left arm, this time aiming higher, past my elbow.

Roughly, I dragged them down the length of my arm. First, there was nothing. Then, a thin, red line, straight and slim, like a thin, red thread, the thread that my life was hanging on to. Then, the blood dripped down my pale flesh and started to get out of control. It splashed onto the floor and it was thick and opaque and red, just red, like the handles of my scissors. Red, red, red. Yuma, Yuma, Yuma. Pink hair, green eyes, pale skin, nice smile. Life, death, life, death, blood, blood, blood.

I raised the scissors in the air, my reflection bleeding. I was starting to feel faint.

He wouldn't like me.

Cut.

I was hurt and just about dead, physically and mentally.

Bleed.

I wanted him, but I didn't deserve him.

Cut!

I needed him in order for me to heal, but I couldn't risk hurting him, too.

Bleed...

My breathing got faster and faster and I started to lose my balance. Yuma, Yuma, Yuma. IA liked Yuma. I liked Yuma. I wanted to die, but Yuma was the reason I lived. I couldn't have him. I wasn't going to tell him. Tomorrow, after school, IA would confess. I would watch them kiss or hold hands or whatever it is that two people do when they're together, and then I'd kill myself, because I will have lost my reason to live. IA will have gotten her happy ending, and she deserved it.

I cried out and fell to the floor, now bathed in the blood I shed because I couldn't contain my emotions. The thin red thread got out of control and red silk was spilling from the cuts on my arms.

I dragged myself into the bathroom and bandaged myself best I could, feeling sleepy, probably because I had lost so much blood. I fell asleep in the hall between the bathroom and my room. My body throbbed with pain, the pulsating gently lulling me out of reality.

The next day, I brought a knife to school with me. IA kept her eye on me all day, but I wasn't going to tell Yuma. I passed by him at lunchtime. He was sitting under a tree, eating a sandwich. I wasn't eating anything. I didn't need or even want a 'last meal' or whatever. I was going to die with an empty stomach.

"IA," I called after her as she left the school at the end of the day, "Hey!"

She turned to look at me. "Gumi, you didn't tell him."

"I told you, you were wasting your fucking time! I was never going to tell him! I'm not...I don't...ah, screw it," I bit my lip and buried my hands in my pockets. A slot machine was operating in my head at maximum speed, trying to decide between 'knife,' 'bridge jumping' and 'getting hit by a car.'

"I have to go and catch up to him," IA said, nodding and hurrying towards Yuma, who was walking slowly, further and further into the distance, just like my life.

I tailed IA quietly, watching as she approached Yuma and said something to him. He stopped and nodded after a moment, following her towards the park. I stayed on their tails.

The sky was beginning to darken and storm clouds were rolling in, blotting out the sun and covering up the blue sky with greys. The park wasn't a very open place. There were lots of trees and the area that IA led Yuma to was a small patch of grass with trees and bushes surrounding it. That made it a perfect place for me to hide and make sure that IA got her wish.

I was standing in the bushes behind them, about four feet away, watching the two standing awkwardly. They were out of earshot, but I didn't need to hear what the blonde was saying to understand what she was communicating.

She was looking down at her shoes, at the grass between her shoes. One shaky hand was holding the other. Yuma had his hands in his pockets and a wide-eyed expression on his face, a frown playing on his lips, lips that would heal me if I kissed them, but I'd poison him, too.

Thunder boomed and IA said something loudly, but the thunder censored her words. Then came the rain. It drenched me and IA was startled. I watched as Yuma smiled and pulled an umbrella out of his bag, opening it and holding it over him and the girl, grinning. He parted his lips slightly and said something that was lost in the torrential downpour.

My clothes clung to my scarred figure. The slot machine had stopped on 'whatever works.' IA froze up and her hands fluttered over to her heart. I didn't need words. I understood the language of the body. I understood it the moment the pink-haired boy held the umbrella over IA's head and smiled that perfect smile. I knew that my thin red thread had been snapped. I knew what I was going to do next.

I broke down and hiccuped, sobbing and doubting myself and my feelings. I gritted my teeth and pulled my knife out of my pocket, running out of the trees, past IA and Yuma, who saw me and gasped. I kept running and running. I ran into the depths of the forest, stumbling over branches, frozen from the cold of the rain, soaked and drenched and bloody and muddy.

The branches clawed at my face and tore holes in my clothes. I slipped and fell, crying out in pain as I rolled down a hill, the rocks and twigs wounding my already wounded body and soul. My knife slipped out of my hands.

Whatever works...

That was the end. I was already three-quarters dead and now I had ended up right by a steep drop. Peering down, I saw a river rushing by, easily thirty feet below me. Rocks, water, heights. This was it. I sniffed and wiped my face with a bloody hand.

Suddenly, somebody grabbed my shoulders from behind and I screamed. They spun me around and two green eyes bored into mine. A drenched, pink-haired boy looked worriedly at me, his hands clasped tightly around my shoulders.

"Gumi, Gumi, Gumi...," his voice was a dry whisper, "Why? Why are you so hurt?"

Without warning, he pulled up my left sleeve and is eyes widened at the sight. "Why...Why are you destroying yourself? Your beauty?"

I shook my head and pried myself out of his grip. "Leave me alone! I need to g-go! I need to leave, now!"

"Gumi, stop this!" He yelled at me and pulled me towards him, embracing me. Everything hurt and at the same time, it didn't, "I...I love you."

My heart stopped. I must have died, that's why this was happening. Yes, that was it. I probably died, falling down the hill. Or maybe I jumped off a bridge or something and just didn't remember it.

"I held it back for so long, Gumi," Yuma went on, pulling back so that he could look at me, "I thought I had all the time in the world to tell you how much I loved you, but when that girl approached me, I realized that I really didn't have time. She told me...that you hurt yourself. Your wounds were only getting worse the longer I held back, up till this moment."

"Yuma....I don't deserve you," I whispered, "I need you, b-but I don't..."

"Shh...," he wiped my face with his wet sleeve and hugged me again, "I love you. I'm never going to leave you...I swear to be your bandages. I want to be your bandages."

His words fell over me like the red silk that spilled from my arms, except this time, it wasn't blood, but a blanket. I cried into his chest, wrapping my arms around him. Slowly, he stroked my unevenly cut hair and looked down at me. I looked back up. The green of his eyes shone and slowly, the world was no longer just black and white and red; it began to colour.

"Gumi, I love you," he whispered into the rain, closing his eyes and kissing me on the lips.

He healed me.

I was totally blank on how to write a Gumi x Yuma one-shot because I didn't have any sort of plot in mind, then this one came to me. I know it's different than what you might've expected, but I hope it's good!

I'm sorry about the f-words. It was something that this interpretation of Gumi would say, and I held back excessive usage.

Thanks goes to TheKawaiiOnigiri for requesting this!

Also, Samantha-chan wanted a Gumi x Yuma one-shot, so here it is! If you want another one, I'll write it! It may take me a while to come up with a premise, though.