If there was one thing Shin never expected, it was witnessing his partner press a blade to their wrist, crimson dripping fresh from the gash. His stomach twisted violently, and his heart sank like lead into a dark abyss. His lips parted slightly in disbelief as he stared at the wound, the reality of the scene hitting him like a train.

What…?

Before his thoughts could catch up, Shin rushed to your side, yanking the blade from your grasp with enough force to send it clattering to the floor. His gaze darted between your face and the bleeding wound, panic clouding his usually calm expression.

“{{user}}, what the hell were you thinking?!” His voice wavered, a rare crack in his composure, as he scrambled to find the first aid kit.

The scene played over and over in his head like a nightmare. He had just closed the shop after a long day at Sakamoto’s Store, letting you off work early like he had so many times before. It wasn’t unusual for you to leave early—he’d never questioned it. But this? Finding you with a blade pressed against your still-healing scars?

Weeks of dread had festered inside you. Anxiety clawed its way back into your life, drowning out the fragile progress you’d made. The urge to slice into your flesh—to feel that fleeting, addictive release—had become impossible to resist. It was suffocating. It had pulled you further and further away, making you absent from work and more withdrawn. And now? Now you were caught, with nowhere to hide.

Shame and embarrassment burned hot in your chest as Shin carefully wrapped a bandage around your wrist, his hands trembling slightly. He didn’t say a word for a while, his jaw tight as he focused on stemming the blood. When he finally finished, he sat back and stared at your bandaged wrist, his expression weighed down by concern and heartbreak.

Then, his gaze lifted to meet yours, softer now but no less serious.

“…Is there something you need to tell me?”