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Soukoku

What if Chuuya is so attached to Dazai because he knows that, if Dazai dies there will be no one in the world who can stop his corruption and the damage it might do to himself and others. So he risks everything he can to save Dazai, even if it risks his own life, because if Dazai dies, the sense of self and humanity Chuuya has will diminish and he'll be lost forever.

We've seen how insane Chuuya's corruption makes him. How he despises doing it, and *yet*, we still see, that when he knew Dazai may be dead (during the fight with Fyodor), it didn't matter. He has a sense of protection over Yokohama, he used his corruption regardless because it was the only thing that could kill the dragon. And even in his corrupted state, he sought out Dazai and fought to save him. It didn't matter if his corruption killed him in the process, because if Dazai was truly dead, Chuuya would die anyway.

Chuuya fought a literal DRAGON to find Dazai. They work so well together and know each other so fucking well, that Chuuya knew, Dazai would most likely have that pill in his mouth. He knew exactly what to do. And even in his corrupted state Chuuya seemed so much more steady when he actually *found* Dazai. Chuuya can recognise Dazai and the safety he provides him, even when he can't control himself.

He literally placed *all bets* on a man he claims to hate. And time and time again he puts his life in Dazai's hands.

Because no matter how much he acts as though he hates the man, his entire life, career, and survival, rests in Dazai's hands. And the trust they have in each other, even on opposing sides, never wavers. Even if they work for organisations which oppose, Dazai and Chuuya are *never* enemies.

Fyoday 😈 (artblock got me</3)

⭐️senior year sucks⭐️

Henry Bowers x FEM!Reader

Chapter summery: you deal with Henry and his wounds. As the night grows later, the heart grows fonder.

Word count: 3,015

Estimated read time: 14 min

A/N: please read my important update on my page if you haven’t already

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Chapter 6

I won’t tell if you won’t

You get to the house gate and gently open it before ushering Henry to walk to the front door while you lock the gate. After a second of locking you jog over and meet him on the porch.

“Kevin is asleep, so keep your fucking mouth shut till I say so” you remark as you put your hand on the handle.

“Why? Don’t want your boyfriend to see you with another guy” Henry growled.

“I’m not even responding to that bullshit anymore dude.”You roll your eyes and take his hand again before opening the door. Henry follows you inside and you drag him up the stairs quietly. Once in your room you shut the door and take a towel from the hamper and shove it against the bottom part of your door to keep your voices from carrying.

“Sit down while I get everything.” You say kindly.

“Fuck you. Why did you even bring me up here?” You can see even as he speaks with hatred he’s still shaking. You hated to say it but as much as he was annoying you, you felt bad for him.

“Can you just fucking cooperate for 2 fucking seconds, Henry?” As you snap at him, killer stirs from his slumber on the bed. He growls lowly at Henry. You snap your fingers while your back is turned to the 2 of them and killer immediately softens. You pick up everything Kevin got you from the pharmacy. In retrospect you are kinda glad you were there for the fight. Otherwise you wouldn’t have had everything you needed to fix him up. You drop everything onto the bed and stand before Henry as he sits on the edge of the bed.

You look at him expectantly but he just glares at you.

“If I ask you to do something will you do it or will I have to do it myself?” You ask. You become aware of the fact you feel completely exposed. You are only in shorts and a short sleeve big shirt. Your tattoo is on full display. Your arm is on full display.

Henry grunts and you take that as a, “no I won't be helpful for 2 seconds so you can do something nice, even though I literally beat the tar out of you”

You reach out to him and he flinches. You still, then try again but slower. You take your robe off his shoulders and drop it to the floor beside the bed. You have to ask him to do something you really don’t want to. You have to ask him for something you know he will fight you on.

“Henry,” you state and his eyes don’t falter from yours. “I need you to take off your shirt” again without removing his eyes from yours in a steady glare he says.

“Fuck. You.”

You click your tongue. “Tu padre.” You snap back. “Either you take it off or I will. !” You just need him to stop being so fucking difficult.

Finally. His eyes move from yours to the floor as he stands. He turns around slowly and begins to shake harder. Is he scared? Embarrassed? What’s wrong? You find out what's wrong as he lifts up his shirt with his back turned to you. He’s covered in scars. Fresh cuts litter his skin along with bruises. Some look years old, some weeks, and some not even an hour ago. Long discolored marks across his back stand out against his tan skin.

He has a fresh(ish) cigarette burn on his back, maybe from a day ago? Who cares when it was from? It still looked painful. You pick up the Bactine spray and the cotton pads. You place a flat palm to the unharmed part of his back and he flinches. He’s still shaking like crazy. His skin is so warm and he smells like cigarettes, rain, and fire. You love the smell. If you could put it in a candle you would.

“This is gonna sting like a bitch.” You warn softly and he nods.

“Just fucking get it over with.”

So you do. You take the spray and do 1 spray on each individual cut and burn including the one on his neck (which was a little harder to get because he’s so much taller than you, and he was doing you no favors). Once you sprayed them you cleaned them with the cotton pads and covered them with bandages. Once you finish the cuts you lean down beside him to grab the bruise cream. You swear, that out of the corner of your eye, you say Henry bowers with tears on his face. You make no comment, you put the cream on your fingers and rub it into the bruises. New or old. You didn’t care, you wanted to help him heal faster.

“Henry…” you say as gently as possible. “Turn around.”

You could see from his back that there was bruising on his ribs and you needed to not only apply medicine but also make sure nothing was broken.

“No.”

“Henry please. Your ribs could be broken just turn around.”

“I said. Fuck. No.”

“He-“ you were cut off by his arm coming back to hit you. You tried to grab it and it caused a struggle. Eventually after some fighting you flipped Henry around and pinned him to your bed. You didn’t want to hurt him but you didn’t know what to do. You sat on his hips and released his arms. They immediately went to hide his face. You pick the cream back up and gently rub it in. After you finish you gently press 2 fingers around the bruise.

“Does it hurt here?”

“No..”

“How about here”

“…” no reply, you guess that means a little. You press one more time to the darkest part of the bruise and ask again.

“Here?”

He hissed in pain as a reply. He has 1 broken rib and you think 2 bruised ribs.

“You have a broken rib and a couple bruised ones, if you ice them and don’t terrorize people for a few weeks you should be fine. No need for a hospital.”

He scoffs at you and pushes you off him. He stands to put his shirt back on. Wincing as he reached down then put his arms above his head to get it back on.

“Sorry about throwing dirt at you.” You snort. He didn’t seem to find it as funny as he sat back down on the bed beside Killer who was out like a light again .

“If you want I can turn on a movie and you can leave when you feel better?”

“I don’t want your fuckin pity.” He hissed.

“It’s not pity, it’s worry. And judging by the fact you ran into my shed, I’d say you don’t have anywhere else to go. Why not put up with me for a few hours until you feel better?” god talking to him was infuriating.

He didn’t reply to your comment, he just looked at your tattoo.

“When’d ya get that?”

“2 years ago”

“Why do you hide it at school?”

“The people in this town are major fuckin judge boats and I don’t need anyone having an opinion on something that is special to me” you deadpan.

He snorts “you got that fuckin right.” He agrees. He looks over to killer on the bed and questions, “what kind of a fuckin name is killer?”

You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of this situation. Henry Bowers, on your bed, asking about your weird ass dog.

You tell him the story and notice he’s shaking a little less. “When I was like 8 I told Kevin while he was babysitting me and Issac that if I ever had a big scary dog, I’d name it killer because I think it’s a cute name and everyone else would find it soooo scary” you mock yourself. “So when Kev got him for me a year ago he just named him that.”

He thinks for a second, smiling a little at the story.

“Issac?” He questions.

“He was my best friend growing up. Died a few years ago from cancer. That’s when Kevin moved here” you felt like every time the 2 of you exchanged words the less he shook and the more relaxed you both became.

There was still blood on his face but you dared not ask him to clean it. You already pushed him so far tonight.

“You need any food?” You inquired.

“Fuck yes. I’m starving.” He groans. You liked him like this. Relaxed. Not being a dick. You can’t deny you found him extremely attractive.

Oh shit.

You like Henry Bowers.

The boy who fucking terrorizes your friends. The boy who gave you a black eye when you tried to help him. The boy you are currently sneaking into the kitchen with for some late night food. You have a huge crush. On Henry fucking Bowers. You turn on the light to the kitchen while you and Henry scavenge. You whisper to him to “take anything you like” after some fumbling around in the cupboard you drop a plastic container of cookies on the floor with a loud “THUD”.

You and henry freeze. Looking at each other with fear that you woke up Kevin. As if on cue you hear Kevin’s grumble from his room.

“______?” Your name comes to your ears through the door.

“Yeah? I’m just getting some food.” You look to Henry in panic and he’s just as lost as you.

“Okay big back. Stop makin so much fuckin noise” Kevin calls then goes back to bed.

You snort and Henry almost dies trying to hold in a laugh. Only your best friend would call you a big back while half asleep.

You and Henry finish getting some food and make your way back up the stairs. You sit on the bed together and turn on some stupid ass movie that you really aren’t paying attention to. The pair of you just talk.

“Bev told me you weren’t at school the rest of the day. You ditch?” He stiffened then relaxed.

“I lost my dads knife while we were chasing after you and those losers. Spent the rest of the day looking for it and never found it. Got home a little over an hour ago hoping my dad would be asleep. He wasn’t. The school called him about me ditching and he was pissed. Then he asked for the knife I took from him and he got even more pissed….” He trails of sadly.

You put 2 and 2 together. Henry’s dad hits him. You frown at the realization and really just want to give him a hug. He dosnt deserve that, sure he’s a fuckin prick most of the time, but you think that’s only a product of his dad hitting him.

Henry clears his throat before asking you a question to switch topics.

“So.. why’d you move here, with this guy?”

“That, my friend, is a long sad story I’m sure you don’t wanna hear.” You chuckle.

He leans back and props himself on his elbows on your bed. “Humor me.” He stated.

Fuck he was so attractive. This was not a crush you would be beating.

You sigh. Starting the story. “I have no idea where my parents are. They were the worst people ever. I tried to get the law involved multiple times to get out of that house but they didn’t help…” should you be telling Henry this? What if he tells someone else? Fuck. Here goes. “Both my parents abused me. My dad sexually abused me for years. And my mom beat me until I was blue. Eventually they started getting worse. Broken arms with no hospital visit to fix it. A concussion with no help.”

“One day I called Kevin and told him to get me out of there. He said he would book me a plane ticket if I could legally leave and they would not try anything. He didn’t want to get in trouble for harboring a runaway. I took emancipation papers to my mom and she beat the fuck out of me… she broke my phone knowing that was the only way I could talk to Kevin. When she was done she kicked me out. I didn’t have any friends and nowhere to go. So for three weeks I was completely homeless. The day I turned 18 I went back to the house. I took a sheriff with me to throw all my clothes and shit that I bought, with my own money in trash bags and I was allowed to stay at a shelter for a few days while I legitimately packed and got a hold of Kevin. He booked me the ticket and here I am. He told me I could stay here as long as I want.” You played with your hands in your lap and didn’t look at Henry.

You were scared of what he would say. What does he think of you? You finally get the courage to look up and he’s staring at you with these eyes? Confusion? Hurt maybe? You aren’t sure. You take the pressure off him answering and change the topic.

“Does all this mean you’ll be nice to me at school now?” You ask jokingly. You can tell he appreciates the subject change and snorts at the question.

“Fuck no. We aren’t friends. We just live next to each other” he rolls his eyes like that’s such an obvious answer. You belly laugh at it.

As the night goes on you continue to talk. You look at him as he focuses on the tv. You touch his arm and get his attention. He looks back to you and you feel your heart well up.

“If you ever need anything, text me ok?” You give him your phone to put in his number. Without a word he enters the number and sends himself a text. You know he won’t ever text you that he’s hurt or sad. But giving him the option of it makes you feel better.

You look at the clock and see it’s almost midnight, Henry notices and begins to stand.

“You going?”

“Yeah. My dad should be asleep by now.”

“Okay” you gently smile at him. “Make sure you lock the gates on your way out.”

“No need. I'll hop ‘em.”

You glare at him. “You better fucking not! You need to lay off that broken rib”

He rolls his eyes at you. “Fine. Your fucking highness. Bye” and as quickly as he ran across your property. He went.

You shut off the tv and clean your bed off before getting cozy. You knew tomorrow would be ok. You understood that you and Henry had an unspoken understanding of ‘I won’t say anything if you won’t’. And you wouldn’t. He wouldn’t tell anyone about your tattoo. And you wouldn't tell anyone he was in your shed tonight.

You cozy up under the covers with killer, who had unsurprisingly stayed asleep that entire time. It was a pretty good night. But what in the world were you supposed to do with this crush you had on the infamous Henry Bowers?

While you fell asleep Henry walked home. He was right. His dad was passed out. On a throne of beer bottles in the living room. Henry walked to his room and went to his mirror. He dosnt know why… but he takes his shirt off. Once his shirt hits the grounds he takes a look at the bandages you dressed him with on his torso and neck. Then he turns around and looks at his back. He sniffs out a gentle laugh as he sees that On the cigarette burn that was in the middle of his back on the left side, is a little pink Sesame Street band aid. The only “fun” bandage. All the other ones were beige.

All his cuts and bruises are dressed and covered in eithe ointment or a bandage. Even the old bruises that were almost healed has cream on them. He bends down to pick up his shirt and winces at his broken rib. He throws the shirt on his bed and walks to his bathroom to look in the mirror. All the blood from his busted eyebrow had dried and was a bitch to wash off. He dries his face and walks to his room. He locks his door before removing his pants. He down slowly in his bed trying not to irritate hide ribs and back. Clad in only his boxers he thinks about you.

He was fucking awful to you and he knew it. He saw the bruises on your arm and face in his mind and cringed. You were so caring for no reason. There was no reason in the world that he could have given to you to gain your help. But you did. You calmed him. Fed him. And even fixed him up. He dosnt know if you told him that story about your parents because of what he told you or not. He didn’t care though. He liked knowing, he felt like knowing about your past made him special. Though he’d never admit that.

A thought flashed through his mind that made him angry. ‘Maybe i hate her because she’s me, but better?’. That idea confused him. You had gone through abuse your whole life. Just as he had. But you were happy. You were free. You had someone who was willing to take you. He dosn’t find it fair that 2 people can go through the same thing and one can still end up better than the other. How was that possible?

He switches topics in his mind. You let him see you today. He saw your personality, your smile, your tattoo. He liked that at multiple points in the night, that bright smile was directed at him and things he said. Your laughter made his stomach hurt. Maybe he was getting sick? He didn’t say anything. But while you were laying on the bed, he looked at your tattoo arm. He saw a few small scars here and there. He wanted to know the story of every fucking mark. He couldn’t tell any of the others about you. He always kept his fellings private. And right now his curiosity of you was growing and mutating, but he didn’t know into what.

He thought of you and while he slipped into calm dreams. Dreams of your laugh. Dreams of you at the record store. Dreams of just, you

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Hope you enjoyed!

@amber-sekio new chapter!

This is my most resent art piece that I actually managed to finish and I'm torn between giving it to my parents who want it and my sisters friend who wanted to buy it

The way I audibly gasped at how cute this is

Look at these bbs✨✨

Oneshot -Pushing and Pulling. Home.

Fandom: BSD -Bungo Stray Dogs

Ship: Soukoku - Dazai x Chuuya

A/N: This is the fanfic version of the comic with quite a bit more detail in it than the comic did. It has Dazai's direct thoughts leading up to his attempt from the beginning of the comic, as well as a look at Chuuya's own thoughts.

TW: blood, self-harm, suicide attempt, language

A/N: Also posted on Ao3

Comic version HERE

Nothing… 

Numbingly empty… 

A mirage of thoughts ran rampant throughout his mind with no end in sight. They pushed and pulled him down with arms of inky black darkness into the sheets below. 

The tug had been growing worse, harder to ignore over time. It came on gradually, leaving him little chance to fend them off before he realized it was too late. It had taken him too long to notice the grip of the demons in his mind. 

He didn’t want to admit that even after defecting from the Port Mafia, after surviving for two years underground, after doing everything for Odasaku, he hadn’t changed. 

Even after all of Fyodor’s bullshit, and he and Chuuya had finally become partners again -though now it meant more to them. 

He hadn’t changed. 

It had been a while since he had genuinely attempted anything, what with Chuuya’s watchful eyes. That and when he was around Chuuya, the darkness of his thoughts often receded, soothed by the ethereal man he had the undeserved privilege to call his lover. 

Sadly, with their differing jobs, it was simply impossible to be with Chuuya every minute of every day. 

In fact, Chuuya was currently away on an abroad mission. He was set to be back sometime tomorrow after having been gone for an entire month. 

Without Chuuya around to soothe the demons in his head, he fell. 

He fell victim to the grabbing hands. 

Pushing and pulling. 

Inky blackness. 

His face contorted in a frown as a restlessness overtook him. 

‘He’ll be back tomorrow.’ He tried telling himself through the cacophony of countless thoughts. Fruitless, really, but he didn’t want to hurt Chuuya. Not again. 

Pushing. 

Pulling. 

Blackness. 

Darkness. 

It filled his lungs like thick black blood. 

Sweet like honey with the seducing promise of relief. 

A quiet mind. 

With no thumping beat of a heart. 

Pushing. 

Pulling. 

His feet hit the ground before his mind could stop him. 

Pushing. 

Pulling. 

His hand reached for the door to the bathroom. 

Pushing. 

Pulling. 

Chuuya had stopped messaging daily sometime after the first week. Too busy with his mission. 

Chuuya hadn’t messaged him since last week. 

Pushing. 

Pulling. 

What if he was hurt? 

What if he didn’t come back. 

Pushing. 

Pulling. 

What if he didn’t want to come back? 

Pushing. 

Pulling. 

His clothes hit the floor by the door, the bandages on his arms and legs following. 

Pushing. Pulling. 

The blade cut, stinging. 

Through his skin. 

Through the bandages still covering his chest. 

Red. 

Pushing. Pulling. 

Inky red blood flowed out. Seeped into his skin. 

Into the pristine white covering him. 

White never did suit him. 

Pushing, pulling. 

The water from the faucet meshed horrendously with his rampant thoughts. 

His vision was flooded with a bloody red color as his arm reached out in front of him to stop the running water. 

Waves of steam rolled off and over the tub. 

Pushing, Pulling. 

The water bled red as he stepped into the tub. 

Burning. 

A pleasant burning from where the blade had cut through him and from the water as it came into contact with his skin.  

The burning water seeped through his bandages, further burning. 

Burning to combat the endless, bone-deep, freezing cold. 

The inky red blood polluted the water. 

Pushing. 

Pulling. 

Pushing and pulling him into a soothing embrace of darkness. 

Quiet. 

_____________________

The door clicked behind him softly. 

He could feel the exhaustion deep in the marrow of his bones as he hung up his coat and haphazardly kicked off his shoes into the genkan.  

He called out into the quiet house.  

“Dazai! I’m home!” 

He was greeted with silence. 

He was supposed to arrive home the next day, so perhaps Dazai was asleep? 

It was well past 2 in the morning. 

But Chuuya knew Dazai always struggled to fall asleep. And since Dazai began to live with him, he relied on him to sleep. 

‘I need my Chibi heater to stave off the cold! If you leave, then I’ll be left freezing and awake!’ 

The memory flashes through his head as he places his hat on the dining room table. 

“Dazai?” 

Silence. 

He made his way towards their shared room when he noticed the bathroom light on. 

He knocked softly on the door as he called out to him. 

“Dazai?” 

There was no response. 

A seed of fear sprouted into a hideous flower in his gut. 

Dazai wouldn’t… He had been clean for so long now. 

He called out again, hopeful to get a response this time. 

“Dazai? Are you in there?” 

Silence. 

He reached to open the door, unlocked. 

His mind went blank as he looked at the bloody scene in front of him. 

He stood there for a second that felt more like an hour, a day, a month. 

He could see the steam from the likely scalding temperature of the water.  

The blood was a vibrant red. Fresh.  

The scent of iron filled his nostrils. 

Then the panic set in. 

He suddenly felt like a victim to the gravity he normally had flawless control over. 

He rushed forward to check Dazai’s pulse, with little care for the blood staining his clothes. 

Through his own rapid breathing, he was able to subtly feel Dazai’s slow pulse. 

There was so much blood. 

He let his mind wander to what could have happened while he was gone while he fell back to old habits. Picking up Dazai’s limp body, unplugging the drain, pulling off what remains of his bandages. Rinsing the blood still on him, redressing his wounds with two layers of bandages to avoid any more bleeding. 

When he got to the ‘clothing Dazai’ step in his habitual process, Dazai began to stir into consciousness as he pulled up boxers over his legs. 

He hardly noticed as his mind continued to drift. His hands moved to pull one of Dazai’s heavenly soft sweaters over him. 

He left Dazai sitting on the stool in the bathroom as he finished cleaning the mess, mumbling to himself as his mind returned from drifting. 

“…got Dazai cleaned, bandaged, and dressed…” 

He pulled off his blood-soaked gloves, tossing them into the trash. 

“Dinner can wait I guess… and I’ve got to change…” 

He looked over himself, clothes stained red in blood. 

“Dammit! And I’ve still got that report…” 

A soft sniffle from behind him pulled him from his thoughts. 

Behind him was Dazai, still sitting just like how Chuuya had left him to clean up. 

He crouched down in front of him, reaching out to wipe some of his tears. Hesitant on whether Dazai was up for touch. 

When Dazai didn’t shift away he brought his hands down to gently run along Dazai’s thickly bandaged knees. 

He was at a loss for words, not having quite come to terms with the fact that if he had returned tomorrow, as was planned, Dazai would have been dead when he found him. 

“…Do you wanna talk about it?”  

His voice hardly sounded like his own, tentative, shaky, unsure. 

Finally, a response reached his ears. 

“Not really…” 

Dazai’s eyes were blank, devoid of any feeling, as he looked into them. 

He closed his eyes, sighing, both at finally being able to hear his voice and at the emotionless stare. 

Then, Dazai spoke again. 

“Can we… talk tomorrow?” 

He didn’t realize he had been frowning until he felt his lips pull at a small smile. 

Before they had gotten together, Dazai would never have asked to talk about something. If he didn’t bring up something then Dazai would never do it. And even when he did try to bring something up, Dazai would attempt to deflect and distract him from the conversation. 

“Yeah… tomorrow. For now… I’ll change, we can order food and watch a movie. How’s that sound?” 

“Cuddle?” 

A soft chuckle left his lips at the hesitant tone Dazai spoke in. 

“Yeah.” 

Chuuya was hardly paying attention to the show, thinking of everything they would have to talk about tomorrow.  

He felt Dazai nuzzle into him, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked down at the soft brown curls against his chest. Dazai’s head was turned toward the TV but from what he could see, Dazai’s eyes were closed, asleep.  

He smiled, letting his eyes close. 

He could feel sleep begin to overtake him now that he was finally home. 

Home being the man in his arms.

⭐️Senior year sucks⭐️

Henry Bowers x FEM! Reader

Chapter summery: you beat Henry’s ass then deal with some complicated issues when you are woken up late at night to someone in your yard.

Word count: 3,284

Estimated read time: 15 min.

A/N please refresh yourself on the story trigger list in chapter one before reading. Thank you.

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Chapter 5

I’ll fucking make you wish

“¡Ayee chiChita! Are you okay?(shorty)” he puts the food on the table and runs to kneel in front of you. “Who the fuck hit you?” You could see he was fuming. But you couldn’t speak. You hadn’t felt this helpless since you were back home with your parents. All possible words caught in your throat as you leaned forward into him and began to sob.

You sat there crying in his arms for god knows how long. Before you knew it you had cried yourself to sleep in his arms. He knew who gave you the black eye. He just didn’t want to do anything just yet. He picked you up and gently got the attention of killer who was whimpering in the back room. What the fuck happened here? He put you and killer in the truck

along with the food and locked up the store for the day. He drove you home and carried you up the stairs.

Checking his watch he saw that school wasn’t out for another 20 minutes. He left killer with you and walked off the property, back down the dirt road to the Bowers ranch. He saw that Butch’s cruiser wasn’t there but that little shitbrick Henry was. Henry was walking over to the farm with no one else in sight. Kevin hopped the gate and hauled ass to Henry before grabbing him by the shirt roughly and turning him around. Kevin could swear on his life that he saw fear in Henry’s eyes before Henry’s face flattened at seeing Kevin.

“What do you want?” Henry spit.

Kevin smacked Henry across the face. Hard. Before taking the front of Henry’s shirt and lifting him up.

“Listen here you little shit.” Kevin’s said calmly. “If you ever fucking come into my store and hit my sister again I’ll fucking kill you. I’ll beat you worse then you have ever experienced. I’ll make you fucking wish for your fathers hand. I will kill you and mount your head on a fucking stake. Do you understand me?”

Henry stays silent and nods. No doubt still feeling the sting of being hit. Kevin nods back and puts Henry down before walking back over to the fence and hopping it again. He takes a nice easy walk home. Like it never happened.

Meanwhile Henry was in his head. He doesn't know what it is about you he finds so interesting. What is it that pulls him in? You make him so indescribably angry by doing nothing. He was so fascinated by you but holy fuck did he want to punch you Everytime you spoke. No one he’d ever fucked with had hit him and then came back to see if he was ok. He needed to know more. He wanted to know about the kind tattooed girl. He was gonna know about you. Whether you liked it or not.

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You woke up the next morning confused. You face hurt and you felt dehydrated. Like a wave of realization, it all hit you. God, what an awful day. You turn to your alarm clock to find a little note written by kevin.

“Called you outta school today. Try to relax, here’s some cash, have a good day <3

You smiled at the handwriting of the note. It almost looks frantic. You decided to get dressed and go outside. If Henry was gonna ruin your life here why not explore a little before. Killer is laid peacefully asleep on your bed. Poor thing must have been so stressed yesterday.

You get up gently and go to the closet. You pick out a white summer dress and some fleece lined beige stockings. You pair that with a pink sweater cardigan. You slip into some sneakers and grab your messenger bag, phone, cash and keys, you sneak past killer to nlet him sleep and make your way out to the shed to retrieve your bike. Putting all of your belongings into the basket you lock up the property and head on your way. Your venture into town is long and peaceful. The wind smelled fresh. You never got air like this back home…

Home.

That wasn’t home. This is home.

You make your way into town and stop by a store. People gave you real funny looks about your eye. But you only ever greeted them with a smile. With some of the cash you had, you bought dog treats and 2 toys for killer. Along with ordering a custom tag for him. You drop the toys and treats In the basket and continue down your journey. You had just hit the red bridge. You don’t wanna go near the store today. You don’t know who's there and Kevin might be upset you came to work. Instead you rode down into the wooded area surrounding the red bridge. You found a small little water bank surrounded by smooth rocks and trees. You decided here would be a good place to relax. You parked yourself on the rocky area beside the crystal clear water. You put on some headphones and turned on music. You laid there in the shade for what could have been hours. You weren’t sure.

After a bit you heard some people. Sitting up and looking to the source of the sound. To your surprise, it was the losers. They notice you on the rocks and run over to you.

“Hey y’all!” You shout with a wave. “What’re y’all doin out? Isn’t school still in?” You question.

“It’s lunch and we wanted to hang out here since it isn’t too far from the school” Mike answers. You liked Mike he was smart. Kind. You liked all the losers. They treated you like a human.

“What happened to your eye?” Eddie asked skeptically.

“Had a run in with the corner of a shelf while I was working. My dog tripped me. No big deal.” You could tell that Billie, Beverly and Mike didn’t believe you, but everyone else took your lie, no problem.

“What is this place?” You finally ask.

“I-I-it’s the b-b-barrens. We hang out here somet-t-t-times.”

Interesting.

The group of you sit around for a minute and talk about life. It was peaceful. That was. Until you heard Henry and his goons, coming your way.

“Scatter!” Eddie whisper yells and all of you run in different directions. You run the same way as Beverly. She takes a hold of your hand as you both run through the woods in the direction of the school. As you and Beverly run Henry Bowers jumps out in front of you. You and Beverly jump from surprise and fear. You position her a little behind you and glower at Henry. He’s alone. You won’t let him hurt your friend.

“Nice shiner” he points to his own eye. “How’d you get it?” He mocks.

“None of your fucking BUISNESS” you grit your teeth on the last word. He knew how you got it. The fucker gave it to you. But on your life, no one else would know.

He stands and looks between you and Beverly for a Moment before running at you.

“BEVERLY RUN!” You yell and push her as you dodge Henry.

Beverly takes off in the direction of the road and you focus back on Henry, who’s staring at you like an animal. You both watch each other like the other one will kill you at any time. You weren’t gonna fucking sit and play obedient to this crazy fuck.

“You know,” Henry speaks. “That dirty old fucker came over yesterday. Yeah. He told me all about how he and you are-“ he reaches down and grabs his crotch through his pants. “Shaking the sheets. Every-“ a thrust of his hips. “Night.”

You laugh in his face. “Are you fuckin’ slow kid? Was it all those years of hick inbreeding or do you really just that stupid?” you laugh at him. You can tell you struck just the right nerve.

“FUCK YOU” he yells and lunges at you.

“¡CHINGA TU MADRE!” ( fuck your nother) you yell back at him as he knocks you over and pins you to the rocks. You knee him in the stomach hard enough to make him wheeze and flip over so you are on top of him. He loosens his hands from your pin and punches you in the sternum so you pick up a handful of dirt and toss it in his face, effectively blinding him. He headbuts you so hard you become momentarily dizzy. He flips you over again and takes you by your shoulders, pinning you to the rocks. He picks up the closest rock and positions his arm, ready to hit you. At this you kick him as hard as you can in the balls and once again flip on top of him. He’s so focused on the pain in his balls that you don’t even need to pin him as you punch him in the chest 5 or 6 times. Before you get off him you flip him over and shove his face into the water that, just a few moments ago, was so beautiful, clear, and still. You jump off him and get your things you dropped before running the same way Beverly did. You can hear him hacking and choking on the water as you run. You meet her at the bridge and all the others come running.

Ben tells you that his friends are still hot on their tail and you tell them to follow you. As fast as all of you could. You run to the center of town. They can fuck with you all they want. But they wouldn’t dare in broad daylight. Not with the cops patrolling the square like they were.

“Fuck” Eddie gasps. “What about our bikes?”

“Don’t worry, they were too worried about finding us to take our shit.” You try to calm him.

“What do we do?” Ben worries. “The school bell rings in 15 minutes, my mom will kill me if she gets a call saying I ditched 4th period.” He whines.

God you really don’t wanna do this. But they all look so worried and you don’t want them to get in trouble with their parents….fuck.

You pull out your phone and dial Kevin. He picks up on the first ring. “Wussup!” He yells goofily over the phone. “I was just about to call to-“ you cut him off.

“No time, Kevy, I need your help. My friends were having lunch while I was in town and they were attacked. We are at the town square. Please help us out.” You beg. The other side of the line goes quiet for a bit. Just as you were about to start begging you hear a shout from the other line.

“Everyone out, we are closed! Come back in 2 hours for a discount! Family emergency! I’ll be there in 3.” With that he hangs up. The members of the group stare at you before hugging you in thanks.

Just as he said he was there in 3 minutes with his truck. You all piled into the tailgate and Kenny rushed off to the school. Kenny may have broken some minor traffic laws but he got your friends there with 3 minutes to spare.

“Don’t y’all worry about the bikes. I’ll take care of it” you smiled again and waved to your friends as you got into the passenger side seat. You knew Kevin wanted to ask questions but he knew you wouldn’t give him the answers he wanted. You direct him back to the bridge and the pair of you hop out and scale down the steep hill of trees and leaves retrieving a bike each then going back down again 4 times until everyone’s bike is in the tailgate of the truck. That took like an hour. It was exhausting. Your white dress was covered in mud from the fight with Henry. What the fuck was that dudes problem? He’s gotta be majorly fucked in the head.

You and Kevin drove back to the school and put all the bikes except yours in the hidden bike rack. You texted Bev where they were with a photo and Kevin drove you home. He dropped you off and made you promise to keep killer by you for the rest of the day. You agreed. You went upstairs and stripped of all your nasty ass clothes before putting on a huge shirt and some shorts. You flopped down on the couch with some snacks and watched shitty cable for a few hours before you got a call from Beverly.

“Whassup?” you mumbled through a mouth full of chips.

“The boys wanted to say thanks for getting back the bikes. We all really appreciate it.”

“No problem. Did anything happen after you got back?”

“Not really? Henry and his goons didn’t come back to school for the day so we just assumed they ditched.” You could hear her shrug.

Interesting.

You could only imagine where they had gone. Nir that it was any of your business.

“I didn’t have time to check. Is everyone ok?” You ask.

“For the most part. We think they followed us from the school when lunch got out. Eddie had a panic attack because he wasn’t allowed to wash the mud off himself. Stanley and Ben have been jumpy all day, and Mike has a fractured wrist from Vic grabbing him.”

“Vic?”

“The skinny blonde one. The fat one who always wears a hat is Belch, and the tall one with long hair was Patrick.”

“Oh. Who the fuck names their kid Belch?” You say, thinking out loud.

Beverly giggles. “His real name is Reginald but everyone calls him belch because he… well, belches” she laughs.

You give a nose laugh and thank her for letting you know everyone was okay. The 2 of you hung up, and within minutes of the call ending Kevin came in with a little bag from the pharmacy. Tossing the bag to you he wanders over to his room and flops on the bed. You walk to the doorway and look at him.

“Ya want any food?” You gingerly ask.

“No thanks I just need to fuckin sleep.” He mumbles.

“Roger. Love you man, sleep tight” you holler behind you as you shut the door to his room. You walk upstairs with killer and empty the pharmacy bag onto the bed. Oh hell yeah. He got you a new tube of Arnica bruise cream because yours was half out, as well as some Bactine, cotton pads and bandages. Everything you needed to clean yourself up. You take the Arnica and rub it onto your black eye and the bruises on your arms and sternum. Then you spray the little cuts you have with bactine, then let them dry out. The cuts were so small you didn’t really need bandages. You lift the back of your giant shirt up to your shoulders to see if you had any bruises back there.

You didn’t.

Looking at your back in the mirror, you looked at your scars. Every scar your parents could inflict on you never faded. You run your finger across a particularly long scar and cringe. It was fully healed and didn’t hurt. But Every Time you touch it you remember how bad it did hurt.

You pull your shirt back down and get into bed. As you settle in you look at the clock. 8:00pm. The perfect time. To get the rest you needed to go back tomorrow. You snuggle up to killer and let yourself be gently lulled to slumber.

~~~~↯~~~~↯~~~~↯~~~~↯~~~~↯~~~~↯~~~~↯~~~~↯~~~~↯~~~~

You are woken up by the sound of killer growling at something making noise outside. You groan and look to the clock.

10:49 pm.

Not too late but sure as fuck not when you wanted to wake up. You get out of bed and put on your fluffy robe to go out to the balcony and check out the noise. You tell killer to calm down, and as usual he does but he continues to stare outside. You shut the balcony door behind you and just try to listen. In the distance you hear someone, a man, screaming his head off, he’s yellin and someone.

“Some crazy ole man is drunk and wakin up my dog for nothin.” You mumble to no one.

As you turn to head back inside you see something from the corner of your eye run across part of the property yard and into the farm shed.

Well shit. You slip on your shoes and ready yourself with a bat and a flashlight. You tell killer to stay and then you sneak out the front door. What the fuck were you doing? This is fucking scary! Anything could be in that shed and you’re fuckin “checkin it out”? This is how every hot white girl dies in the movies.

You try to calm your thoughts as you sprint to the shed.

Holy fuck it’s freezing out here. You sneak up to the shed and hide your flashlight against the skin of your tummy while you mentally countdown to opening the door. Bat in hand you count.

1

2

3

Boom! You swing the door open and point the light and bar at the inside of the shed. But no animal comes running out.

In the corner you see a boy. A boy in a familiar red sleeveless tee you saw earlier today.

“Holy shit. Henry?” He looks up at you with anger.

“Get the fuck away from me you fucking freak!” He screams at you.

You drop the bat and rush to his side with the flash light. “Are you okay?” You begin to scan him. His elbow goes into the side of your face as you try to look at him. The force of it sends you back. Hitting your back and head on the wall.

“Ah fuck.” You spit blood onto the floor of the shed before getting closer to him once more. As you approach him again he begins trying to hit you with both arms. His arms are flailing and hitting you so hard it’s difficult to think. Eventually you are able to get his arms and look at him,

“Fuck! Henry! Stop it!” You yell at him. “Let me make sure you’re okay. Then you can beat my ass all you want” you say in an unamused and seriously annoyed tone.

He calms down a little. You pick up the light he knocked out of your hands and you shine it on him. His face is bleeding and he has some serious bruises on his upper arms. A cut goes from his exposed shoulder into the back of his top. He has a small circular burn on the side of his neck almost covered by his hair. He’s shaking. You can’t tell if that’s because he’s cold or whoever just beat the tar outta him. You take off your fluffy robe and put it around his shoulders. His eyes move from the ground to you. He looks fucking pissed. Not that you care. He can be mad at you when you are done cleaning him up.

You stand up and reach out a hand for him.

“Yeah” he scoffs “like I’m fucking going with you.” He looks at the ground.

You huff. “It’s either you come with me to get cleaned up or I call the cops”

His head shoots to your directionz his eyes wide with fear. He quickly stands up and looks to the door as a sign he’s choosing to go with you. You wouldn’t have actually called the cops. You don’t really like cops. You just needed him up. You gently take his hand and lead him to the house. He doesn't exactly seem to enjoy your hand on his wrist given his frigid state. But he lets you drag him anyway.