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Mountain lazily flipped a dull knife in her hands. The only one they could find without alerting the others. They had tried swiping a few times, but it only resulted in angry red marks, rather than bleeding.
So, it waited either to summon the strength to swipe harder on its arms, or to find a way to get a hold of a sharper knife. Its mind was quiet, apart from the buzz, the demand, of its urges.
The ministry, too, was quiet. Eerie. The only sounds Mountain could hear were the air, light snoring, and... tentative plucking of bass. Practicing. Something. Awake, alive.
Mountain ached to feel something alive. She herself was not alive. She hadn't been for ages. Life drained from her the further and further away the others got from her. Each few and far between interaction with the retired ghouls in the ministry sucked even more from her. Every time a certain someone made her believe, even for a second, that he would drift away like that, it put her through another metaphorical execution.
Like a vampire, she waited for a victim to leech the life from. Maybe, to bring the light back into her eyes. Maybe, to prove to her that life still existed.
Maybe, that was why they wanted to see their blood trickling down their arm. As a reminder. That, for some reason, they remained a ghost haunting this vessel. A vessel that, despite themself, remained living in its own right.
The door creaked open. Mountain jumped, and put its blanket over itself with such a speed that could hardly be matched even by its own playing.
Rain furrowed his brow. If he saw, he failed to shout out any "what are you doing to yourself"s or "give me the knife"s.
Rain, however, did approach Mountain's bed. Mountain shrunk in on themself.
Rain put a hand on Mountain's shoulder. He didn't demand words from her, he didn't say anything. The touch was gentle, cool, grounding. Like companionship.
Rain spoke up, yet his words were unobtrusive, still.
"Wanna come practice with me in my room? Or just play any rough feelings out, honestly, doesn't have to be anything good."
Mountain nodded. Under the blanket, it rolled down its sleeve and slipped the knife under its pillow.
Rain gave Mountain a firmer pat on the back and led them to his room.
When the two got to Rain's room, they spent hours staying up and playing. No regard for the burden the noise may put on the others, no regard for cleaning up the sound too much.
Rain would slip up, and he would laugh at himself.
Even more surprisingly, Mountain would laugh.
Mountain didn't feel revived, not nearly. That was still far away. But a few of their heartbeats felt their own.