Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.

He looks like a corpse as he sleeps. Not moving, barely breathing. Pale skin and a shallow pulse.

I'm not sure how long I've been watching him, hours. Days. It feels as if I haven't moved from this spot, this single chair at my bedside years. Time seems to move differently as of late. Sometimes it speeds up and everything happens so fast, so suddenly that I cannot controll it. I cannot help but be washed away by the swiftness of the chaos.

And at other times, the hours move by slowly. When I sit and wait and hope for it all to be over, for his pain and fear to end, nothing happens. The world simply stands still, and he's stuck there, clinging onto me like a lost child. Dead eyed and empty souled.

I'm praying for him. I haven't done that in years. As I sit in this wooden chair next to my bed, I pray, gently shifting my prayer beads in my hands. I haven't prayed to the Buddah in ages. Not since I left my fathers temple. Not since I was made to spend hours on my knees in front of that fat bronze statue.

But now I sit here, eyes closed and head held down, praying as if in the middle of pure requiem.

My father would be so proud.

I open my eyes. Nothing has happened. I didn't really expect it to. I was never much for religion. But finding that I could do nothing else besides pray, I sat and did so, for countless hours.

He's awake now, looking off into no where. If I call to him, he won't answer. He hasn't for quite sometime now. His violet eyes go blank more and more.

And my heart aches everytime I see it.

It was my fault. My fault my lover was injured. That he was raped. That he was taken against his will and made to feel the same violations that turned me into the cold bastard that I am now.

I close my eyes, unable to face him.

It was my fault. I know that. I'll always know that. That single all encompassing thought will never leave my mind. It was my pushing. My proding. My hatred and harsh words and cruel hands that led him to this point. To this breaking of his spirit.

I've always taken advantage of him. Of the fact that he's willing to do everything I say without a second thought. That he's willing to love me no matter what. Regardless of how much of a bastard I am to him. Regardless of how much I curse and swear at him, of how much I hit and punch him. How many scrapes and bruises I leave on his heart and soul, he always comes back. He always continues to love me.

The beads shift in my hands, and I continue to pray.

I can't love him. I can't bring myself to love him as much as he loves me. I can't bring myself to overcome my fear so as to love him. I can't bring myself to let myself love him and be loved in return.

And so I push him away. I push Shuichi until he'll run in whatever direction I'm shoving him. And before I know it, I've done the same thing Yuki Kitazawa did to me. I'm turning him into the same heartless bastard that I am.

And yet, I still need him. I still wake up and look for my pink haired baka, who's always willing to take on the next barrage of insults and curses. Who's willing to bear the darkness inside of me so that I don't have to.

So that now I find myself praying that he doesn't change. That when I open my eyes, he's still the same baka as always. Still foolish and obnoixious. Still doing the same crazy and half thought out actions that end up getting him into more trouble than it's worth. The same baka who'll sit for hours by my computer desk, waiting for a single 'good night' kiss. The same one who'll hug me and hold me even though I refuse to do the same for him.

The same one who is my sacrifice. The sacrifice to all things dark and painful inside of me.

Please Shuichi, be alright. Just snap out of everything and be alright. When I glare at you, when I smirk at you, when I hit or punch you, when I reach for you please just be the same Shuichi you've always been. Because I can't take going back into the darkness without you.

Please, just continue to love me.

For I'd die without you.

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A.N. This chapter was a little bit harder to write than Sacrifice was. It didn't seem to flow as easily. The title of this chapter was probably what took the longest, and so I just ended up seaching through my thesaurus until I could find something similar to mourning. Hope you liked, and I'll see you in the third chapter!!