“Taemin, you know you’re supposed to bring stationary to school,” sighed Onew, handing him glue and scissors for the cut and paste exercise. Taemin nodded, taking the stationary silently.

“Are you okay? You’re quiet this lesson,” asked Onew, concerned. Normally in the last few weeks, Taemin contributed to class discussions,  answered questions and did his work and was a pleasure to teach. Today he had seemed withdrawn.

“Mm fine,” mumbled Taemin.

Onew nodded and went to help other students.

“Hey Taemin, do you know what this goes with- Oh my god Taemin! Onew, Onew! Mr Lee!’ screamed Lacey when she swivelled around to look at Taemin, accompanied by the gasps of other boys and girls close to Taemin.

Onew gasped in horror when he saw.

“Taemin!” he yelled, grabbing Taemin’s hands.

They were covered in shallow cuts that were bleeding everywhere.

“Taemin, what did you do? How did you use the scissors?” asked Onew, pulling him up. “We’re going to the nurse now! Jenny, look after the class,” he commanded to one of the more responsible kids, and quick marched Taemin out of the room.

“What were you doing Taemin?” demanded Onew again as they walked briskly down the hallway to the nurse, Onew still gripping Taemin’s wrists as blood streamed onto his hands.

“Was an accident,” whimpered Taemin.

It hadn’t been….

Onew sighed. He hugged Taemin after bandages were put onto his hands yet again, just like when he had first come to America. Cuts like those weren’t accidents, you really had to manhandle scissors to do that. But Onew didn’t know what to think, when Taemin looked genuinely remorseful, and no one would do that to themselves in broad daylight in school on purpose, right?

“What happened to your hands, Taemin?” asked Key worriedly after school.

“Was playing with a boxcutter badly,” lied Taemin, smiling broadly. “I’m fine.”

The next day, Onew saw Taemin again sitting outside of the nurse’s office, waiting for his turn.

“Taemin,” said Onew, kneeling in front of him.  “What happened?”

“Burnt myself on the Bunsen burner in Science,” said Taemin, grinning brightly like he normally did and holding his forearm. “Clumsy me.”

Onew didn’t know how one could be so happy while in pain, but Taemin seemed to be content.

“Can I see?” asked Onew.

Taemin revealed a large burn, the skin pink, raw and blistered.

“Ouch Taemin,” winced Onew. “You need to be more careful! You’ve been hurt too many times. It’s not normal. Watch what you’re doing, please!”

Taemin smiled serenely. “I always do.”

Onew felt his suspicions rise.

“Taemin,” he said softly. “You’re not doing this… on purpose, right?”

Taemin shook his head, his smile starting to look forced as it stretched wider across his face.

“No! They’re all accidents! I don’t like getting hurt, who does?  Just… clumsy me!”

“Taemin, you’re not clumsy,” said Onew. “You always move with care.  You’re not a clumsy person. And a clumsy person doesn’t cut their hands repeatedly on school scissors Taemin. Why are you doing this?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about hyung,” said Taemin, shaking his head and not meeting Onew’s eyes. “I’m fine.”

The nurse poked her head out of the door as a student walked out.

“Taemin Lee, this has to be the fourth time this week!” she exclaimed.

Taemin ran into the room before Onew could even comment.

Minho and Jonghyun were playing soccer with Taemin a few days later, but not with Key who was watching, because Key “wasn’t made for soccer.”

“ Heads Taemin, heads!” yelled Jonghyun. “Heads!” he screamed as another ball from the game next to them came sailing toward Taemin. Jonghyun was shocked to see Taemin close his eyes and stiffen as anticipating the impact before the ball smashed him right in the head.

“Taemin!” screamed Minho and Key as he fell onto the ground holding his head.

“I said heads!” yelled Jonghyun, falling to his knees next to him. “Taemin, you okay?”

Key’s hands were travelling over Taemin’s body as if searching for more injuries.

Taemin started shaking.  Key grew even more frantic. “Are you okay Taemin?”

Taemin turned over, still clutching his head and laughing.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” asked Minho, shocked.

Taemin nodded, still holding his head and they noticed that some of Taemin’s tears of “mirth” were just tears, and his laughter was turning into sobs.

“Ohh baby, baby,” said Key hugging Taemin. “Of course it hurts.” He turned his head to the other game. “ers!” he yelled at the group of boys. “And this is why soccer is evil.”

“I said heads, Taemin,” said Jonghyun, perplexed. “Why didn’t you duck? Did you get hit on purpose?”

“Of course he didn’t, don’t be a ,” snapped Key. “Let’s go home, Taemin.”

They sat near the back, Taemin’s head on Key’s shoulder which was still throbbing.

“I was watching you,” said Key. “You did that on purpose.”

Taemin felt a chill go up his spine. “Wasn’t,” denied Taemin.

“Was. I saw you see that ball. You just stopped. Jonghyun yelled heads and all you did was freeze, as if you were waiting for that ball to hit you.”

Taemin stayed silent.

“And look at you. Covered in plasters and bandages. You cut yourself one day, you burn yourself the next. You don’t think I didn’t notice?”

Taemin moved his head to look out the window.

“Tell me Taemin, what’s been bothering you?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“I’ll try, and make it better.”

“There’s nothing to make better. What’s done is done.”

“Stop being so ing mysterious and just tell me.”

The fierce whispers came to a halt.

“I need to control it. I can’t hurt or break anyone else anymore, I promised I wouldn’t do it again..”

“So you’re doing it to yourself?”

“No, I’m not-“

“Yes you are. What did I tell you about that control stuff?”

“To let you control me,” said Taemin reluctantly.

“Exactly. And I am taking control of this. I am not letting this go any further. Do you want it to go further Taemin?”

“No…”

“Then stop it. Stop it right now, okay?”

Taemin nodded unhappily as Key kissed his forehead.

The next day he got in no “accidents.” He really wasn’t going to do it anymore. It did not help that Key had spent the whole evening private messaging him sites about self harm and it wasn’t like he was doing that, and he didn’t want to descend into it either, it wasn’t his intention. He just wanted to break something, to be mean to something, and he didn’t know what.

 He could. Not. Go. Home! Every time he thought about it he wanted to rip his hair out.

A/N

you don't know how many times i have wanted to kill this chapter, this site and the internet. this is the third attempt trying to upload!!

also: sorry for the rare comment replies. i have been in my mother's rural hometown and no wi-fi. also i have been sick :( i have been sick enough that i don't even want to be on the internet right now, but i need to let certain people know that I'm not dead haha :)

but I read each and every comment but I'm not feeling too hot to think of a reply right now, but i will later!

so tell me what you think! (tell me what you want, tell me what you need... DJ, put it back on haha)