Hikari: I had writer's block with A LONG Day, so I started writing, and before long, this came out! I have a great plan as to where this is headed, so I hope you enjoy!

Yamie: Hey Hikari... Why is this so short?

Hikari: It's a prologue, stupid.

Yamie: Shut it...

Hikari: Anyway, please review and tell me if it's any good. I'll continue it if people enjoy it!

Yamie: Yu-Gi-Oh! isn't mine or Hikari's by the way.

I was scared. No, petrified. There he was. He lay soaked in crimson, his very skin melting away to reveal bones and bloody tissue. His head–long flowing hair, bright cheerful eyes, sly yet innocent grin–was simply gone, blown clean off his lovely face.

I remember when I first met him. He laughed at my sullen face, my death threats, and my life. But his smile was not that of a mocking tone. No, he was utterly joyful. Finally, someone understood him. His pain and suffering everyday was almost equivalent to my own. We got along so well. Hell, we caused so much chaos together! So many screeches and shouts from others as we cackled hysterically and plotted what our next brilliant idea would be. He never turned on me, unlike others. They would glare at me with the sting of a hornet's stinger. It was my fault. Everything and anything was just all my fault. I never knew what exactly, but it was there and I was the cause of it. I was shunned for it. I still don't know what 'it' is. I hope I never find out. If I do, I may never be able to live with myself. Too bad suicide doesn't work for me. Despite my attempted tough guy image, I could never make the fatal blow. Sure, I've come close. So close in fact that I almost did the dirty deed. But no, Ra had other plans for me.

Now I lay on the frozen earth watching snowflakes fall upon his frozen corpse. It's not that cold outside: my eternal agony has made it worse. The sky is dark, littered with glowing polka-dots that mock my suffering.

Huh. They say to me. There's a boy who could use some brightening up.

They shine as if their luminosity will mend my eternal despair. It won't. It's all my fault. He's dead, gone, becoming an angel or devil up above or down below. I'll never tell him why I did it: I'll never describe what my motives were. The truth is there was no motive. No catch. No nothing. I did this because I was weak. I murdered my best friend because I was too frightened to stand up for the one person I cared about the most. One fatal mistake shouldn't cause this much pain…

But it does.

I miss you. I love–no, not friendship love like I'm sure you thought it was–you with all my heart, soul, and being. Why didn't I tell you this as my pale hand dragged a sparkling silver knife via my trench coat pocket through your heart? Because I couldn't. I wasn't permitted to act or speak at that moment. He wouldn't let me. Nor was I when said appendage pulled out an engraved shotgun given to me mere minutes ago and pulled the trigger facing your skull. What was engraved you ask? I'll tell you.

To Ryou,

Not that I think you'll need it, but because it's the favorite of my vast collection. You're the favorite of my collection too. You two were meant for each other I suppose. Take care of each other as I depart you this evening. I'll miss you.

From,

Marik

~midknightXXX