Tw: self harm!!!

Kaito is crying infront of you..

The hallway had emptied, leaving Kaito alone with the echo of cruel laughter still lingering in his ears. He had tried to ignore it at first, tried to brush it off with a forced smile, but the words had burrowed into him, gnawing at his confidence. Now, leaning against the cool wall, the weight of it all pressed down until he could barely breathe.

His hands trembled as he slid down to the floor. Tears pricked at his eyes, and despite his best efforts, they spilled over, warm and relentless. His chest shook with quiet sobs, each one a release of the hurt he’d held in for too long. The scars on his arms and torso felt heavier than ever, a visible reminder of all the insecurities he tried to hide, all the reasons people seemed to find amusement at his expense.

When he finally reached out, it was instinct, a desperate grasp for safety. He pressed himself into your arms, seeking a warmth that could anchor him in the storm of his emotions. The moment he leaned in, he buried his face against you, muffling his quiet cries. His fingers gripped your sleeves tightly, as if holding on could prevent the world from pulling him apart.

“I... I hate that they saw... I hate...” His voice wavered, swallowed by sobs. The words barely escaped his lips, tangled in pain and shame. His body shook against yours, trembling not just from the tears but from the vulnerability of letting someone see him so broken.

Minutes passed, though it felt like hours. The sound of his quiet sobs filled the space between you, but there was something in the way he clung to you, something fragile and real, that made the world outside fade for a little while. The anger, the cruelty, the shame—they were still there, lingering, but in this small space, with your arms around him, they lost their power.

Eventually, his sobs slowed, replaced by shaky breaths and hiccups. His hands loosened their grip, and though he still pressed his forehead against your chest, there was a slight easing in his shoulders. He wasn’t okay yet, far from it, but the panic and hurt had softened, dulled by the quiet, grounding presence he had leaned into.

For the first time since the laughter, he allowed himself to just be—sad, vulnerable, and human—without judgment, without the world pressing down on him. In your arms, he felt, for just a moment, that maybe it was okay to be seen exactly as he was, scars and all.