Chapter Text
Rock Lee doesn't remember a time when he didn't rely on pain as his strongest vice. His only vice, aside from the burning determination that still manages to course through his veins no matter what.
He hadn't even meant to fall into the bad habit at first. It started with his unmanageable frustration at... everything, really. From when he was still a young child getting bullied and knocked down by his classmates at the academy, to the present-day where he's had to live with the constant reminders of his failures.
The young ninja felt as if he was being pulled deeper and deeper into the unwelcoming depths of an ocean every time he let someone's words chip away at his self-esteem. Every time he was beat down and proved wrong again and again by Neji. Every time he couldn't stop himself from sinking into the pit of despair.
That isn't to say he was all doom and gloom, though. Guy Sensei knew of both Lee's passion to improve and his insecurity that he would never be able to; the jounin reassured him every single time that with effort and hard-work, he could do it. Guy was and is his pillar to look to every time he feels the ocean pulling him back in. He believed it, still does.
But... that's also not to say he can rely on a single person all the time.
Lee started self-harming long before he met Guy. It began with punching rocks, intentionally pinching himself and going out of his way to train his body to its limits just to feel his muscles sear with pain. The latter of which he still does. But who can blame him? Training can never be seen as bad in his eyes.
Eventually, it spiralled out of control. Suddenly it wasn't enough, suddenly he wanted- needed more. He needed it to hurt more than the pain in his head. He ended up resorting to taking out the blades in pencil sharpeners and slitting the inside of his wrist.
The boy remembers being told about that sort of thing once or twice in the past. From a counselor or teacher in the academy, he can't recall. But everyone's always told him that if he had thoughts of hurting himself, Lee should tell someone he trusts immediately.
Back then, he didn't have anyone he trusted. His parents seemed to dislike remembering he even lived in their house, no less being adults that he could tell he hurts himself on the daily. 'They'd call me crazy', he thought. Everyone would.
Hurting his body feels like an escape from the pain in his mind. Every slow cut across his wrist, every burn in places no one will see. Without even realising it, it became Lee's way of letting any and all frustrations out after a long day of whatever he had to go through. He ended up looking forward to it, as weird and as fucked-up he knew it was.
But people struggling with the same things as him got sent to mental facilities. They were labelled as crazy and insane by society, left to wallow in their own self-hatred without getting any proper support by the people entrusted with their safety. That knowledge brought him down, made him absolutely terrified of being found out. He looked at his gaping, bleeding cuts and felt disgust. It never stopped him.
After the life-changing event that was meeting Guy Sensei, Lee expected his rampaging thoughts to at least die down a bit. And they did, much to his short-lived joy. Until he met Neji Hyuuga.
Neji, who looked at Lee as if he already knew he was nothing special no matter what he said to try convincing the other. Neji, who beat him every time after being challenged again and again and never seemed to falter in his confidence. He could tell there was more to his aloof teammate, but that side was the only one he ever let Lee see.
It sent Lee's self-deprecating and crushing thoughts into overdrive. He couldn't use his blade as much after graduating from the academy, so the boy spent every possible waking second into training until he couldn't get up. It made him stronger, and calmed his mind to a marginal degree, but didn't stop him from realising something during a chilly autumn night:
Lee wanted to die.
It was so simple to just think it in his head, but the strain that thought put on his chest made him feel like he couldn't breathe. What was the point of continuing like this, if he'd only get proven wrong until he was nothing but an empty husk? Every day was more gruelling than the last, and the one after that even more excruciating so much he wondered if he could keep up with this for the rest of his life.
That train of thought sent him down a dangerous rabbit hole. He tried- fuck, he tried so hard to ignore it. Went about his life with the same unwavering determination and passion that he had held so close to his heart for so long. But... he didn't see any other way out.
It was so unlike him, so unlike the Lee that his team had grown to be fond of. He'd spent the larger portion of his life living to prove everyone wrong, what had happened that he wanted to let all of his efforts go?
The boy pondered over it for a while, trying his best to keep up his peppy attitude in the meantime. Tenten, the observant girl that she is, had started asking him if he was alright more and more frequently.
"I don't know, Lee... Something just seems off with you. You're slipping up in our missions more often and I know it's not because you can't do it. Something's bothering you," she had said one night, when the two of them were sitting on the roof of an inn their team was staying at. Neji and Guy Sensei were sound asleep in their rooms; it'd been a mission in an of itself getting past the two without waking them up. Lee tried to brush it under the rug, play off her concern like it was something less than it really was.
"Don't worry Tenten, I just haven't been focusing as much as I'm meant to. I won't let it happen again, okay? I'm sorry for making you worry about me, but there's nothing wrong." He flashed her a bright smile, imitating Guy's, and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She clearly didn't believe his words, but didn't push it any further.
After that ordeal, Lee knew he had to act fast. He couldn't be around any longer to mess up his team's progress like this; trying to improve would simply put him in their way. His decision was set in stone. Or at least that's what he thought.
The young ninja spent nights writing goodbye notes to everyone he knew. Unsurprisingly, there were only four by the time he was done. The first one read:
Dear Neji,
By the time you're reading this, which I presume will be early morning, I'm already dead.
I'm sorry to have gone so suddenly like this, really I am. But I know it's best the best thing for everyone. I've done nothing but be a nuisance to this team, especially you, and this is the only way I can get out of your way.
You were an excellent opponent and even better teammate. Your strength fuelled my determination to do better, but it also made me realise that there's many people like you in this world. And if I can't even get past you, there's no hope for me.
I know you don't like me. I didn't write this to make you feel any sort of pity, but just to settle things and apologise before I can't anymore.
Goodbye Neji, I wish you nothing but the best.
Lee wrote it in a few hours. He knew exactly what he wanted to say, so it wasn't particularly difficult. Tenten's note was written the next night in similar fashion, but he also thanked her for looking out for him. His heart clenched with guilt as he put pen to paper; he didn't want to think about how she would feel after finding it.
Afterwards he set out to write Guy Sensei's note after spending the previous night catching up on lost sleep. The boy sat hunched over his desk, wrists burning with a familiar pain and mind filled with thoughts running through his head at 100mph. He couldn't even begin to visualise what to say to his teacher.
'Sorry for killing myself'? 'Sorry for being such a failure when you believed in me?' 'Sorry for... everything?'
It took him a week to complete the note. Every single time he looked at his beloved Sensei, he thought of what to write him that would be able to encompass even a fraction of what he wanted to say. Eventually, he settled on this:
Dear Guy Sensei,
I'm sorry.
And that was it. A single 'I'm sorry', but Lee had faith that Guy would be able to fill in the gaps for what came after. The boy poured all of his emotions into those two words; he felt that it'd be easier to decipher rather than the several paragraphs he would've written otherwise. He was sorry for everything, and there was truly no better way to convey that other than to simply say he was sorry.
His letter to his parents was short, though not as short as Guy Sensei's. He truly just didn't have much to say this time. They've never liked him, so his death would surely be a relief to them.
After writing the notes, Lee wondered just how he was going to go about ending it for real. His first thought was to jump off a cliff or high-rise building, but the chances of someone catching him in the act was too probable. Then he thought of ingesting poison, but the thought of dying that way put him off quickly; there had to be better options.
In the end, he crawled back to his roots as an answer. Fatally slitting his wrists wouldn't be too hard, though the pain was sure to be immeasurable. The blood would spill everywhere and cause another set of problems, too. Maybe selfishly, he found that he didn't care.
Dying by the exact thing that had helped him get through life was too good to pass by. It made Lee feel nostalgic, in a way, even if in the back of his mind, he still knew that all of this was incredibly wrong. His entire existence was wrong and messed up, so what difference did it make? A kunai would work better than a normal blade though, he thought.
Autumn had made way for Winter by the time he was ready, that much was evident by the cold seeping into his bones as he sat in his room in an inn, kunai and towels (to minimise blood stains on the tatami mat) in hand. He set the towels on the floor and slowly undid his bandages, revealing the pink scars that littered his wrists. A weird feeling filled his chest when he looked at them. Sadness, maybe? Whatever.
It was sad, though. Guy had announced that day that they were going to start training for the chuunin exams they were set to take place next year. All three of them were excited, including Lee even if he knew he wasn't going to be able to start his training. His teammates would be able to advance in the ninja ranks, and that was enough to make him happy. He'd left their letters next to their beds after everone had fallen asleep; he made a silent prayer that none of them would wake up and intervene.
With a tiny smile on his face, he took the kunai and held it up to the inside of his left wrist. It was cold to the touch and glinted in the moonlight peeking through the drawn curtains. He took a deep breath, eyes closed, and applied just enough pressure for the kunai to pierce through his skin. Beginning to drag it slowly, pain clouded his senses and he could hear the first drops of blood hit the-
"Lee?"
Oh shit. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no-
In a matter of milliseconds, Neji was at his side, gripping his wrist with more force than needed to stop the kunai from slicing him open any further. Lee's heart stopped, cold sweat trickling down his forehead as he avoided his teammate's eyes. It was like a bucket of freezing water had been poured over his soul, even though his skin felt like it was on fire. The hand that held his wrist trembled, eventually letting go. The kunai clattered on the floor, staining the tatami mat with Lee's blood.
"What... What's the meaning of this?" The young ninja didn't know how to reply. There was nothing to say, after all. Neji could paint the picture of what he was doing incredibly easily, especially since he'd most likely read the note Lee left him, earlier than anticipated.
Lee held his bleeding arm close to his chest, uncaring of the fact that the crimson blood seeped into his shirt. He sputtered like an idiot and tried to come up with something to say that would make any of this better, but there was a lump in his throat preventing any sound from escaping. He ended up hanging his head low and resigning himself to whatever Neji decided to do next.
Suddenly, his chin was lifted up and he was forced to look into the other boy's eyes. What he saw was a pale violet storm of emotions. Confusion, anger, fear, sadness, it all mixed together and asked a single question: 'Why?'
"I- You.. You weren't meant to see this..." Lee said, voice wobbling like he was going to burst into tears at any minute, in fact he could already feel them pinpricking in his eyes. His rival, someone he was sure looked down on and resented him, just found him in the middle of his suicide attempt. If the floor opened up beneath him and swallowed him whole, he'd welcome it.
Neji ran a hand through his hair and sighed shakily, very clearly disturbed and shaken even though he tried his best to conceal it. "Well, thank God I did. I have to get Sensei in here-"
"NO!" Lee yelled before he could even process what happened. He instantly slapped his hands on his mouth, letting out a small groan as pain shot up his left arm. Neji looked taken aback, his eyebrows creasing together like he was thinking deeply.
"I have to. You just... I can't leave you alone after witnessing that. Here," he took one of the towels in hand and grabbed Lee's arm, putting pressure on the wound with it. The towel turned from pink to deep red in a matter of seconds.
Lee could barely tell what was going on anymore. His heartbeat thumped in his ears and he could hear the sound of his breathing picking up pace. Neji was here, Neji saw what he was doing and oh Lord he's going to tell Guy Sensei-
A voice called out to him; it sounded like he was hearing it from underwater. "Lee. Lee! Look at me. Calm down, I won't tell Sensei, alright? Just breathe." Neji put his hands on his shoulders to ground him. Lee looked up at him with his round, glassy eyes and for a few moments, it was quiet. The air was filled with tension so thick it could be cut through with a knife, and unanswered questions lingered between them.
He'd never seen Neji like this before. He'd never seen Neji so scared. Lee felt as if he could throw up with the crushing pain and guilt that pressed down on him. He just wanted to die, and he couldn't even succeed in that. It was almost laughable.
"...Thank you." The words left his lips in what was barely a whisper. He didn't know what he was thanking Neji for, but the fact that he'd even bothered to care about this at all... It made the young ninja wonder if maybe his rival wasn't so bad.
After that night, Lee's outlook on life somewhat changed. His relationship with Neji didn't seem to change at all, but he could catch the other boy throwing glances more frequently, and he seemed to stare at his bandaged left arm for longer than necessary sometimes. It was like there became an unspoken trust between them, even if their views clashed together so harshly.
Lee never tried to take his life again after that. He took the letters and dumped them in the trash, beneath every other item of rubbish so no one would stumble across it on accident. If he wasn't going to die, then might as well try his hardest, he thought. After all, dying recognised as a skilled ninja is more appealing than being known as the freak who couldn't take being shunned that it drove him to suicide.
His blade still meets skin frequently, though; old habits die hard. Of course Lee is always careful and at least tries to space the time between each 'session' so his arm won't be rendered completely useless, but there's no denying that he's just as bad as before. Some things just never change, do they?
Even so, since then, living has become a challenge for him. Not one that he hates facing, but one that he takes head-on. He'd either live to see his efforts come to fruition, or he'd die trying. Neither fates were ones he would avoid.
///////////
"Hey Yashamaru, what does pain feel like?" The red-haired little boy clutched his plushie to his chest, as his caretaker took the knife he previously held.
"Well, Gaara, pain feels like... It's not pleasant." Yashamaru tried to find the right words to explain what such a feeling was like. But it's not easy to convey that to a child who'd never felt it before. He did his best to help Gaara understand, and was left with an ache in his heart at the child's words.
The jinchuuriki remembers that interaction vividly. Back when he was still naïve to the world, spilling his heart out with childlike innocence to someone he once so wholeheartedly thought loved him. Yashamaru said that all scars and pain eventually fade with time, but Gaara now knows that was a lie to placate him. The gaping wound in his heart has never waned even once, only dimming every time he gets the chance to fulfil his true purpose in this world.
Spilling the blood of others, erasing them from existence so he can keep living... It's the only thing giving his life meaning. It's the only way to ensure his survival. He'd keep going until no one was left. Temari and Kankuro often tried to tell him that that would end up getting him killed too, but Gaara never listened. Eventually as they grew up, the two learned that trying to convince him is for naught.
What do they know? They're just like everyone else. They don't understand his thought process, just like no one else does. He'll keep going until there is no one but him and him alone, and Shukaku too. The Ichibi sealed in him from birth loved it whenever Gaara had an outburst; it grates the jinchuuriki's nerves to no end. But, he has to live with it. Whatever.
Pain is something he didn't want to and wouldn't experience. His sand is the ultimate defense, something no one can get past. Not even the jinchuuriki himself can, found out from multiple attempts to stab his hand that result in failure every time. If the pain in his heart is this bad, he didn't want to know what physical pain is like.
Gaara assumed the chuunin exams would be no different. He'd fufill his role in the mission, and kill his opponents without a scratch or ounce of remorse.
But... then he fought Rock Lee. Keyword: fought, not killed. When their names were selected, Gaara had felt glee bubbling in his chest. To snuff out a flame so bright made his heart leap, and the jinchuuriki momentarily forgot all about his pain.
Then the match began. The other boy was something else entirely, managing to outrun his initial sand defence and even throw Gaara around a bit. Of course, he wasn't affected in the slightest due to his sand armour, but the surprises kept coming. The stadium shook when Lee took off his weights. Then he lost sight of him for a good while, moving so fast that Gaara's eyes couldn't keep up.
He isn't going to lie: Rock Lee would've had a chance at beating him if he hadn't opened his gates so early. Temari and Kankuro were both worried at first; they knew Gaara's sand armour drained chakra quickly and if Lee had kept at it without using a taxing move such as the primary lotus, he might've won.
It was like he had no regard for his safety in the slightest, continuing to get up even after the jinchuuriki had rendered his arm and leg practically useless. The blood, what Gaara could only think to be excruciating pain... It was as if he didn't care for his life at all.
The match ended with Gaara as its winner. No one celebrated his victory, their eyes solely fixated on Rock Lee who was being carried away by medical nin. His siblings let out sighs of relief, but Gaara didn't know what he was feeling at first. Anger at being unable to kill him, indifference at the fact he wasn't hurt (like usual), and... A burning feeling that felt like revenge. He was going to kill Lee, and that was for sure. No one would get in his way; someone like him can't be allowed to exist any longer.
Gaara felt like he was in a daze of fury and fear after the first part of the third exam had concluded. He had to get rid of Rock Lee as soon as possible, that was the only way to ensure his survival.
After the Hokage released the winners of the first round to train for the next month until the final part of the chuunin exams, his siblings spent their time doing exactly that. But Gaara didn't need to, and he had something much more important on his mind. It's what lead him to be standing in front of the door to Lee's hospital room; he's finally going to be able to feel something other than the clawing fear and paranoia in his chest.
His sweaty, trembling hand takes a hold of the door knob, a crazed look on his face. He'd heard some of the nurses in this section of the hospital whispering about "he woke up incredibly earlier than anticipated", and "seems jittery, probably eager to get back to training". The rational part of his mind very clearly knows it's most-likely Lee who's already awake, as it seems in character for the boy. But Shukaku doesn't care, Gaara doesn't care. He'll get rid of him, conscious or unconscious.
...So why does he seem to be doing the job for him? After hearing muffled grunts of pain coming from inside the room, Gaara decides to o crack open the door just a tiny bit to peer inside and see what Lee is up to. The sight is interesting to say the least. A small blade is slicing shallowly through the skin on the other boy's left wrist, beads of deep vermillion blood seeping through the separated skin.
The expression on Lee's face is one he can't even begin to comprehend. Pain, relief, calm, anxious, somehow all of those show on his face clear as day through the way his brow is slightly furrowed, and how his round black eyes stare down at the wounds he's creating like they're his lifeline.
Gaara can't help but let out a choked noise, causing the other to let go of the blade instantly and snap up to lock eyes with him. The jinchuuriki knows he should killed him while he was stunned, perhaps just bolt down the hallway and pretend to forget the confusing scene he's just witnessed. Against his better judgement, he stays in the doorway, waiting for one of them to break the tension that feels like it's suffocating them both.