Disclaimer: I don't own TeniPuri. And I don't own the song by Elise Estrada either, which is where the title is stolen from.

These Three Words

Three simple words. 8 simple letters. A clear, unmistakable expression of strong feelings or emotion. Often uttered at the height of passion.

Who knew they could do such damage?

"I HATE YOU!" Tezuka couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't say a word as Ryoma walked out of the apartment.

The door swung slowly shut with a tone of finality. Tezuka slid to his knees as reality finally hit him. Why had it turned out like this? Why?

Tezuka had been shocked to find Ryoma in the washroom. He'd been even more shocked to find the razor poised above his wrist. "NO!" he yelled, leaping forwards. The razor sliced into his finger as he snatched it away from Ryoma, but he didn't even notice. "Ryoma, what do you think you're doing?" he cried out. "I can't believe you'd try to hurt yourself like this!"

Ryoma just turned his face upwards, letting the drops of blood from Tezuka's finger land on his face. Without looking Tezuka in the eye, Ryoma said softly, "You know, you've always been the perfect boyfriend. So caring. So kind. So protective." His voice was dead somehow- it lacked emotion, as though Ryoma was reading something from a book.

"But that just made me feel worse every time. Who was I to be your boyfriend? I was nothing like you. Not perfect. Not beautiful, not kind, not loving. Why would you choose me? You have no idea what kind of pressure you put on me. All eyes were on me because I was your boyfriend. And I'm not good enough."

Tezuka tried to cut in. "Ryoma, what are you talking about? You are the perfect boyfriend for me! I love you!"

Ryoma just continued as though Tezuka had never spoken. "And then, you went to that press conference thing and kissed that reporter. Do you know how that made me feel? I'm completely inadequate for you, I knew that, but it still hurt to have that fact driven into my brain like that. Couldn't you have broken up with me properly?"

Tezuka wanted to protest, but he could hear the cracks in Ryoma's voice. Ryoma was on the verge of breaking down.

A single tear slid down Ryoma's face, mingling with the red blood still dripping onto him. "You know what, Tezuka? I hate you." Tezuka couldn't quite believe his ears. "I hate you."

"I HATE YOU!"

Tezuka closed his eyes. It had only been a kiss. Just a light, harmless kiss. He'd ended it as soon as possible, but the reporter had just leapt at him. He hadn't thought it would hurt Ryoma like that. But then again, he hadn't realized that Ryoma was feeling that kind of pressure. He should have been a better boyfriend. He should have realized what Ryoma was going through…

But now it was too late. Much, much too late. Ryoma was already gone, and he wasn't coming back. Tezuka had seen it in his eyes. Ryoma had left him for good.

There was nothing left for him. Tezuka lifted the blade still in his palm, watching as the blood dripped almost hypnotically from his finger and the blade. A fitting end to his wretched life, he thought sardonically.

He placed the blade at his own throat. Now he knew what had driven Ryoma to do the exact same thing. Perhaps he would understand Ryoma better through death.

And just before he sliced, Tezuka whispered 3 simple words. 8 simple letters. But so very different from the ones Ryoma had uttered mere seconds ago.

"I love you."

And his world exploded into a kaleidoscope of black and red, before fading into a blissful white.

A/N: I've been writing a lot of darkish stuff recently. I've gotta go back to writing fluff o.O This was kind of… unrealistic. I mean, really, Tezuka killing himself just because Ryoma left him? Tezuka would be far more likely to go and try to get Ryoma back. But w/e, I suppose… Hopefully this wasn't too bad. Liked it, hated it, please tell me what you think!