The nonexistent injury always itched.Warnings:
This is a very
It'd only been a month since the last time he had had an itch like this one. Every time Envy managed to get into enough fights or accidents to use up most of his philosopher stone, the last nonexistent injury received would itch, reminding him that he would be crawling on eight legs if he didn’t fill up on human souls soon. In Envy’s mind, it was as if the itching flesh was taunting him; don’t forget that you’re a completely useless idiot, just as Father says. Gluttony attracts less attention than you.
He had managed to get into a fight with some idiots from a town right outside of Central while he was supposed to be scouting the area looking for specimens to make new chimeras with. Gluttony had decided to have a feast, their watch dogs being the main course. The determined poor were always the best for making new chimeras, they had the most fighting spirt in them to sustain the various surgeries and Envy had nothing better to do, so he was assigned the supposedly simple task. The only injury he collected from the small brawl was a fractured forearm. The idiots—whom challenged him in the first, might he say—ended up much worse off them him, considering that they weren’t breathing afterwards. He probably shouldn’t have killed them, it would bring police to the area to investigate, which he hated--as did Wrath. But from the looks of the area, murders weren’t very uncommon there.
Even though he returned triumphant, Envy still chided himself for being reckless enough to be injured. Father wasn’t happy about constantly having to refill Envy’s stone due to his recklessness. Lust had already teased that he might end up needing double the other homunculi’s amount to sustain himself on a daily basis and with the way things were going, her jeers just might prove to be true.
As he scratched his arm Envy could imagine the lecture Father would give him on how reckless, irresponsible, and useless he was. Envy started to scratch his arm harder, nearly tearing at his flesh, in anger, (Whether it was anger towards Father or himself, he couldn’t distinguish the difference.) but then stopped in realization that he didn’t need to be weaken his stone any more than it was by making himself bleed. He needed to conserve as much stone as possible so maybe he could live for a few more days before explaining to Father why he shouldn’t just do away with him.