He knew that it was no use believing, that someday his love would be returned.
Each time he saw them together, heard the love filled words to each other, the secret touches his heart broke even more.
It was no use crying his eyes, his heart out every evening before falling asleep and dreaming about things, that he knew would never happen. Only in his dreams he could be happy, or at least pretend to be.
He didn't want to continue this.
The bathroom door locked, his back against it and the sharp knife in his hand. The hand holding it was lightly, almost unnoticeably shaking, but he had decided already.
The metal reflected the sunrays that came through the opened window. He watched as the light dances on the tiled floor and white walls.
His gaze fell on the knife one more time.
Clenching his fist he extended his right hand slightly in front of himself and then lowered the blade, so that it hovered just above his wrist.
Slowly the sharp metal cut into his flesh. A wince from the pain made its way past his lips, but the knife didn't waver or stop. Tears streamed down his face and quiet sobs filled the small room.
The knife fell from his hand and the sound of metal hitting the tiled floor resounded through the room, concealing the sobs for a moment.
He didn't notice the sound that the knife made, or someone's voice shouting his name. The sight of the crimson blood slowly flowing down the porcelain whit skin of his arm enchanted him.
He let his right hand fall beside him as he leaned against the door one more time.
Ryoma smiled a sad, tear filled smile and closed his eyes for the last time.
"I Love you…"
A/N: The idea for this drabble(?) came to me when I was sitting in the bus, going to my summer job.