Yeah, another story…I really need to stop coming out with them… but this is a one-shot, so it doesn't count! And I guess this could be considered a side fic to No Regrets, if you want to see it that way…though it doesn't really fit.

"Sometimes the hardest things to let go of are the things you might not have even had in the first place." - Candace

"I can't believe this…"

"I never thought I'd have to see him in a casket until we were older."

"I don't think I can stand here for much longer…"

Joey sighed and looked at his short friend, who was lying in a navy blue casket, being held up by some thing under it. He blinked a few times and wiped at his eyes angrily. His friend wouldn't want him to be sad.

Téa, on the other hand, had no problem with crying her eyes out. It didn't matter to anyone, though. She had known him the longest, so she had the right to sob as much as she wanted.

Yami and Tristan were on either side of her, Tristan rubbing her back in soothing circles, swallowing thickly and holding back his own desire to cry and Yami had his hand on her shoulder, giving up pride in order to let a few stray tears slide down his face. They both were tense in their efforts to prevent themselves from breaking down.

Ryou was crying silently, standing against a wall and refusing to come within ten feet of the casket. Joey knew he was in denial and was only keeping away from the casket so as not to have proof of their friend's demise. It was only a matter of time before Ryou would summon the courage to say good-bye to his friend.

Duke was standing with Marik, talking silently about what would happen after the funeral. It was guaranteed that everyone would be mixed up and lost about what to do next. Joey dreaded thinking about what would happen to Yami and Téa, they were the ones who knew him the most and they were the ones who were going to suffer after everything was done.

The front door opened silently and everyone looked to see who it was, for even silence could be heard in the small room. Joey raised his eyebrows when Kaiba walked in, followed shortly by Mokuba, both dressed in black suits. Kaiba glared at everyone who looked at him and walked to the casket, Mokuba sniffling as he trailed behind. When Kaiba stopped in front of it, he seemed to hesitate before pulling out something from his pocket. Joey could see that it was a Duel Monsters card. He wandered what he was going to with it for a moment before Kaiba placed it gently into the casket, looking at it his eyes softened before he turned around abruptly and went to sit next to Yami. Mokuba glanced into the casket and started to cry louder and went to sit next to his brother.

Overcome with curiosity, Joey looked into the casket and his eyes widened with surprise. Next to the Dark Magician that was already resting next to his friend there was a Blue-Eyes White Dragon. Kaiba must respect him a lot to have given up his Blue Eyes.

"Blue Eyes…" Joey jumped slightly at the thoughtful voice next to him.

He blinked when he saw that it was Bakura, looking into the casket, his eyes and face blank. It scared Joey a bit to see the white-haired former spirit's face so devoid of emotion. Usually anger or sadistic pleasure was coursing through his eyes.

"Surprising, isn't it? That his enemies respect and love him as much as his friends…only someone truly special can pull that off with people." Bakura whispered, stroking the dead boy's face tenderly. "He will be missed by many."

"Yeah," Joey replied, suddenly worried for Bakura's health, "are you feeling okay, Bakura? You don't look so good."

Bakura's face had always been pale, but now it looked sunken and pasty. He looked thinner than ever and his hair looked limp, as if he hadn't bothered with taking care of himself for while.

Bakura blinked and looked away, jerking his hand back as if he had been burned. "I'm fine, Wheeler. There's no need to worry about me."

"That's no gonna stop me from worrying about you. You haven't looked very good for a while. Have you even eaten or showered for the past week?"

Bakura shrugged. "What does it matter? There's no need for me to do that when there's no point to it."

"The point is to stay healthy and to not smell. Why haven't you been taking care of yourself?"

"Bursting with questions today, aren't you? Just stay out of it, Wheeler, nothing can fix what I'm going through." Bakura said quietly. He glared at Joey for a moment before glancing back at into the casket, his face softening for a moment before he turned and walked out the door.

Joey debated on following, when his decision was made by loud cursing coming from outside. Everyone was suddenly roused from their stupors as they looked towards the door. Realizing that it was just Bakura, they went back to mourning. Joey, however, squared his shoulders and charged into the night.

He didn't see Bakura anywhere as he glance around the street. That didn't matter as Joey started to run. He knew where the former spirit was going.

Bakura ran. He knew where he wanted to go, but he wasn't very determined to get there. It wouldn't matter if he did. It didn't matter what he did anymore. He could scream into his pillow for eternity, blast his music as loud as it would go forever, he could cure cancer, and none of it would bring him back. That's what hurt. Knowing that the one he wanted wouldn't ever be seen again except for in pictures.

He reached the school, climbing the gate and dropping cat like onto the ground below, glancing around for any sign of people. Seeing nothing that threatened him, Bakura made his way to a back stairway, one that would lead him to the roof of the building.

When he finally got there, he bent double, holding his stomach. Seeing his body… it just made Bakura feel even sicker than he already was. It wasn't fair…he wasn't supposed to be dead, not yet…

He whipped his head around when he heard the creak of the door opening. He glared fiercely when he saw that it was Joey.

"What do you want?" he growled, not in the mood to deal with any form of human contact.

"I figured out what's wrong on my way here." Joey answered simply, going to the rail and leaning against it. "You're being torn apart inside by this whole thing."

"Thank for that assessment, Dr. Phil, now do you mind going away?"

"You're taking it to the heart, refusing any outside help, believing that you'll get over it by yourself." Joey continued, ignoring Bakura completely. "The thing is, you know you won't get over it that easily. There are steps to take and you realize that and it makes you angry because you also know that you have to follow those steps if you want to feel better."

Bakura blinked. "Well, the dog's done his homework. Now tell me, Maury, how do you propose I get better?" he drawled.

Joey grinned. "You'll have to figure that one out yourself. The book I borrowed from Yami didn't say."

"You got my problem from a book? Is it really that common?" Bakura asked, crossing arms.

Joey shrugged. "If you believe in your love, then yeah."

Bakura tensed. "Why do you think it's love?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"The look on your face." Joey replied simply. "It had 'love' written all over it. Whether you love him or not isn't the issues here, though. We're here to figure out how to get you to release your emotions without destroying your image."

Bakura cocked an eyebrow. "You care about my image?"

"Yeah, you wouldn't be Bakura if you suddenly bawled your eyes out or something. It would set off a chain of events eventually leading to the apocalypse."

Bakura snorted. "I don't need a release, I'm doing fine without it."

Joey raised an eyebrow and looked at Bakura's baggy clothes that had fit him a week ago, and his unkempt hair. "Uh-huh."

Bakura glared. "Mourning won't do me any good, Wheeler. It won't bring him back and it won't change the way I feel." Bakura voice cracked for a moment before he composed himself again. "Mourning is for the weak."

"Mourning if for those who care." Joey said softly. "Mourning is for those who refuse to let a memory die. For those who can let go yet hang on to any remnants of a person or thing."

"I don't care." Bakrau spat, glaring furiously.

"If you didn't, you wouldn't have shown up at the wake." Joey pointed out.

"I wanted to make sure he was dead." Bakura growled.

"You could have figured that out if you went later and looked at his headstone."

"I didn't want to wait that long."

"Why not? You waited 3,000 years to get revenge."

"That's different."

"How so? You waited a millennia to get back at Yami, why not wait a week or so to look at someone's grave?"

"I wanted to say good-bye!" Bakura shouted, getting fed up with Joey. "I wanted to say good-bye." He whispered, leaning against the wall and sliding down it. "I wanted to redeem myself."

Joey watched Bakura as he looked down, his hair falling into his face.

"I do care, no matter how much I force myself not to. I didn't want to believe he was dead." Bakura whispered, running a hand through his hair. "I guess I share that much with Ryou, he didn't want to believe it either, still doesn't."

Bakura slumped against the wall, the perfect picture of despair.

"The night he died…I was looking for him. Yami told me that he was walking somewhere, he didn't trust me enough to tell me exactly where. I was planning on leaving this place, for good, even Ryou didn't know. I was looking for him because he was the only one who understood me, who cared enough about me to invite me places and try to talk to me, besides Ryou and Marik. He was the one who counted and I didn't want him to feel abandoned when I left."

Bakura buried his face in his hands, taking a deep breath. Joey's shoulders slumped as he realized just how much his friend meant to everyone.

"I only wanted to say good-bye…"

okay, I'm turning this into a two-shot. It's getting too long for me to fit the funeral into this.