I could not stop the tears from running over my cheeks, leaving salty trails in their wake. If there was ever a time to cry, now would be it. I was left, facing the man who had killed my parents, all those years ago. He was on trial for parole. They were considering letting him roam the streets once more, to do as he had done years ago, to murder unsuspecting families in the mid of night. How this could even be on the table was beyond me. Murderers should not have been allowed parole, they were dangerous, ready to once more end others' lives.

I stood in the crowd, listening to his court hearing. Listening to his plea for mercy, listening to how sorry he was for ending their lives, and for nearly killing me as well.

Unlike those who listened I wasn't a fool, I could sense the lies he told. I could tell that he had never felt remorse a day in his life, all he wanted was his freedom, not to be cleansed. It was all bullshit, and yet they heard him out.

A small hand reached up to wipe the tears from my face.

My little sister.

Mokuba.

Her eyes held sympathy for me. She thought herself lucky not to have gone through what I did. We weren't related by blood, her parents had given her up, not ready to raise a child just yet, they were still alive today, if she wanted, she could speak to them at any time.

I wasn't so lucky.

I had to sit by, buried by coats and clothes as I watched my parents murdered from behind the door of my father's closet. I watched as this man standing before everyone, stabbed my mother till death, as he shot my father six times. Overkill. He mutilated their bodies; so much so, their caskets had to be closed when I said my final goodbyes.

Why they thought this man deserved to be set free was beyond me. He deserved to rot in jail for the rest of his miserable life. He was scum.

Yet they heard him out. They listened to what he had to say to them. However, when the jury came back out, they declined his plea, refused to give him the freedom he so wished for. He was infuriated by this. Began his shouting. All directed to me, the only one whose life he ruined that dared to show up today.

"I knew you were in that closet, I knew where you hid, I could have killed you if the cops hadn't come when they did!"

They began to drag him away.

"You should be thanking me; I gave you a better life! You wouldn't be rich and famous if it weren't for me. What are you so angry for?"

His words inspired me to shout back at him, to burst out into more tears, to curl into a ball and cry. I only did two of those things.

"You murdered my parents you son of a bitch."

Mokuba gripped onto my hand, squeezed. She knew what this was doing to me, she knew that I could hardly stand to watch as this went on. Yes, he hadn't been granted the freedom that he wanted, but he had still dared to try, he had still said those words, he had dared spit on the memory of my parents, long since deceased.

I stood with a start, stormed out of the court house. The press was waiting for me.

Camera's flashed blindingly bright lights, questions formed into deafening static.

Soon I was surrounded by them.

Yet almost as soon as they had moved in on me, that group, Yugi and his friends, all of them formed a circle around me, shielded me from the press. Wouldn't allow them so much as a picture of me. They were there to help me, for whatever reason I couldn't comprehend, but I was thankful for it.

Isono had brought the limo to pick me up, the only vehicle large enough to fit all of us. The dweeb patrol filed in soon after I had taken my seat. Mokuba must have invited them.

Mazaki placed a hand on my back, Mokuba attempted to wipe the tears from my eyes, but they only continued to multiply. I was a mess, I was a disgusting mess and I was breaking down in front of people that I constantly accused of being weak. This stomped out every sense of pride that I once held. This only caused the tears to run in thicker droplets, to fall quicker, to ruin me entirely.

Jounouchi was the first to speak up.

"That asshole got what he deserved, good fuckin' riddance."

Mokuba merely spared the Mutt a glance before going back to me.

I must have looked like an overgrown child.

However, the Mutt's words made me smile a smile bit. I may have been in the middle of an emotional rollercoaster, but I was glad to know that the man who did all those horrible things to not only my parents, but the families of other's, wouldn't see a day of light in a long while.

By the end of the car ride I had finally gotten the tears to stop falling, they had dried up. I still felt the hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach eating away at me, but I had finally stopped crying.

How I had stomached showing such weakness to them was beyond my realm of understanding, grief did odd things to a man, myself included, I was certain that it had something to do with my trauma, but I couldn't quite be sure, it was also the emotional scarring that kept me from showing these people real emotions. They weren't to be trusted, despite all they did to help. It made me feel awful, but there was nothing I could really do about it.

I was the first one out of the car, the first one inside. I didn't bother speaking to them, didn't bother thanking them, I doubt that they expected me to. They must have known how this all weighed me down, they must have known how this all ground me into a fine powder of sorrow.

It was obvious how I felt.

I locked myself in my bedroom, didn't bother coming out. Not for hours, I wasn't in the mood to eat and I wasn't able to stomach another encounter.

I didn't come out till I heard a knocking at my door. I wouldn't ignore them, they didn't deserve that kind of treatment, they were trying to help me.

A quick glance in the mirror told me exactly what I feared, I was a mess, hair disheveled, eyes puffy, face red, I looked like I had been crying, which was exactly what I had been doing.

I opened the door only to find Jounouchi, the mutt. He held a glass of water in his hands, extended the drink out to me.

I declined.

He persisted.

"You're gonna get dehydrated if ya keep cryin and don't have a drink."

I knew he was right, but I was sure that water would just come back up, my stomach was tied in a knot right now, twisting and churning and causing me pain.

I declined once more.

"Look,"

He started.

"Just take it, you don't have to drink it, but just give your sister and the rest of us the peace of mind, we're all worrying about you.'

I took the water from his hands, set it down on the desk. He followed me into my room, I questioned why he didn't go back down, but those were short lived, he soon interrupted my thought process.

"I know what happened today must be pretty heavy on you, but I want you to know that if you need someone to talk to, I'm here."

This offer I found to be odd, yet promising. Why he would go out of his way to help me, why he would bother to even offer to listen to my problems, it all confused me, but I couldn't help but take him up on it. Mokuba only ever spouted the same things over and over again, how it wasn't my fault and that I had no real reason to be upset. She was still young, so she didn't exactly realise that invalidating my feelings was counterproductive.

I burst out in tears once more at his offer, unable to keep them in for any amount of time longer than I already had. Jounouchi was at my side in seconds, comforting me to the best of his ability.

He pulled me into a hug, kept me flushed up against him. A hand traveled up and down my back, forming soothing circles. I hiccupped as I cried, like a small child would. He didn't mock me, nor did he invalidate any emotions that I had.

A chorus of "It's alright"s and "It'll be okay"s kept me from entirely breaking down. I could have sworn that he was a saint in that exact moment, but that would be too kind, he was merely someone trying to do right by me, and that was all I really needed.

I cried into his shoulder till the tears would no longer fall, till my voice grew hoarse and my face was red as a beet. Not once did he stop trying his hand at comforting me, and not once did I even think for a second that he may have been deceiving me. I had truly felt comfortable with him, even if for only a short while.

After I had purged myself from the tears which had taken hold of me, we talked, talked for much longer than we should have. He had friends waiting, but he didn't care, and neither did I.

We talked about today, events that took place years ago, and everything that related to why I was so broken down today. He understood, he told me I had my right to cry over these things, but that I shouldn't be allowing them to rule my life, he said all these things, al these thought provoking things that made me question why I had hated him in the first place.

He was a smart guy, he knew what he was talking about when it came to my mental health, and honestly, I was surprised. I was surprised that I felt at ease talking to someone who had been so intimidating in the past, I was surprised that he could actually help me, and he did help me, he helped a lot.

Eventually however, I had to say my goodbyes to him, he had to go home and check in with his father, I didn't blame him, he had to, it was supposedly something to do with curfew.

Only then did I realise how late it had grown to be. He had been with me for hours, listening to my problems, and he hadn't complained once.

I had to stop him before he left, I couldn't just let him walk away.

I grabbed hold of his wrist, he turned and faced me with a quizzical look. He didn't speak.

"Thank you, Jounouchi."

My voice broke as I spoke, and all he could do was smile.

"Anytime, Kaiba."