Hey guys! I've finally written another chapter! I've had major writers block on this, but it seems to be broken, yaay! Hope you enjoy :)

Aly Goode- Now you can find out :)

YamiNoIcexIcuo- Bakura would never hurt Ryou, and good, you two should be friends!

xfallenangel13x- Both are correct so far! :P

Blithe the perock- *Hands feels* and thankyou for the confetti! I'll try to update sooner next time.. :/

I had waited long enough. Tonight was the night to put my plan into action. A quick glance to the clock told me it was about time I set off, after all, it would be rude to be late. I swung my black trench coat on and strode purposefully out of the house, shutting the door behind me with a crash that reverberated through the apartment.

I stalked down the near-empty streets, glaring at anyone with the tenacity to get in my way or give me an odd look. My ice-cold exterior façade was just masking the fact that I was afraid. My plan could go so badly wrong. He might not even turn up. If he did he could be with someone else, we were technically over, in his eyes at least, so it wasn't too ridiculous an idea. I don't know how I'd cope if he wasn't alone, especially if he was with another man. He was mine! Nobody else could have him. My mouth twitched in imagined anger and my left hand closed around the handle of the flick-knife that sat in my left pocket. Just in case.

My fast pace brought me to my destination sooner than expected. Windows spilling soft light onto the dark street, smell of coffee drifting out of the door, which was slightly ajar. I took a moment to allow my crimson eyes to dart around the cafe's interior through the window. Seeing nobody but the waistcoated waiter, reading the same dog-eared novel, I pushed the door open with a tinkle of the bell and, with a cool nod in his direction, took a seat at the dimly lit corner table. I lounged back in my seat, twiddling the knife in my pocket lazily with one hand as the other drummed restlessly on the table. I was prepared for a long wait.

"Evening." The waiter smiled down at me. No mistaken identity this time. "What can I get you?"

"Black coffee." I replied bluntly.

"Sure thing, that all?"

I nodded and he smiled once more before walking off, completely unaffected by my blatant rudeness.

I scowled, I had hoped for at least a small flash of worry in his eyes, perhaps even fear. I loved the scared expression I could put on people's faces. I liked it when people avoided me, it made me feel powerful, in control. Most people around me were like puppets on strings, easily controllable by a simple look or a harsh word. The people who ignored or didn't see my glares were the only people I allowed to become friends.

Friends. Such a weakness to have.

I told Marik and Melvin my plan, of course I did. This situation was partly their fault after all. Marik hadn't been so sure, whereas Melvin had straight up called me a 'baka' and told me it could only end badly.

Of course I ignored him. Who would take advice from someone who believes anything can be solved by slitting a few throats? A baka, that's who.

Marik was concerned, I could see it in his lavender eyes. He was truly worried for me, he had seen how Ryou's abscence had affected me, was affecting me. Melvin, as usual, took a back seat in the whole business. When I had spent days in bed, curled up and alone, it was Marik who had at least tried to break through to me. He had phoned me again and again, hammered on the door, and, in a particularly stupid and bold move, climbed up the fire escape, smashed a window and broken into my apartment. I could remember the way he looked at me after he found me, lying on my bed in the foetal position, visibly shaking with tear tracks staining my cheeks. I could see the pain in his eyes at seeing me this way, but I could see the guilt too, and that only made me feel worse. It wasn't technically his fault, or Melvin's. I was truly the only one to blame, and though he tried to shift some of my guilt to him and Melvin, I knew inside that I was the one who drove Ryou away, and that killed me inside.

The first week without him seemed to pass in a haze. I remember only getting out of bed to use the bathroom, I didn't wash, didn't eat, barely slept. Then Marik had appeared in my room in a shower of broken glass and a flurry of horrified exclamations. I remember Marik had cried too, sat on the edge of my bed with blood trickling down his cheek from a small cut. I remember staring at him blankly, not offering comfort, not offering anything, just watching him as he cried. I remember he told me it was all his fault. He apologised, again and again. I hung my head, the shame and self-pity overwhelming me, allowing the tears to fall, a dry sob choking out of my dry throat. I remember slender bronzed arms around me, gentle shushing noises and being rocked until I fell asleep. Waking up the next day to see him, still awake lying beside me on the bed, watching over me while I slept. He stayed with me for most of the next week, force feeding me food like a baby, making me shower and get dressed, sometimes too physically for my liking. I allowed a small smirk to spread across my face as I remember one day he literally pulled me out of my clothing, turned on the shower and pushed me under it, paying no heed to my objections and seemingly unphased at essentially stripping his friend.

I was brought out of my memories by the ever-cheerful waiter placing a mug of strong black coffee on the table.

"There you go Sir, just call me over if you want a refill."

"Thanks." I replied, noticing for the first time the shiny gold name-badge on his waistcoat that read 'Hirotima.'

He smiled again and resumed his place behind the counter, returning to his novel, which I could see he had nearly finished.

I picked up the mug of coffee and took a deep drink, it scalded my mouth and the bitter taste made me wince. Just how I like it. I glanced at one of the clocks on the wall, 7:28. I chuckled quietly, any minute now my plan would begin.

I had been preparing for this for days. Melvin called it stalking, I called it observation. I came to the café every night at around 6, I stood in the alleyway opposite and watched the customers arrive and depart. I'd stay in my alleyway until the café shut at 8, watch the waiter lock up and leave, shrugging a scarf around his neck against the winter cold. On the third day of my observations a familiar white haired boy entered the café, greeted the waiter with a warm smile that made my heart twinge and sat at a table in front of the large window. He didn't bother to order, the waiter just brought over a pot of tea and a mug, exchanged a few friendly seeming words then went back to the novel he seemed to read every night. Ryou would wait a few minutes for the tea to brew then would pour out a mug, savouring the smell before bringing it to his lips to drink it. After the first mouthful he gave a contented sigh and visibly relaxed backwards into his chair. Peach tea had always relaxed him, removed the stresses of everyday life. For a while, I had done the same. My scowl reached my face again and I glared at my coffee, harsh and dark. The total opposite of Ryou's tea, which was sweet and light. I scoffed lightly, even our drinking habits were opposite, it was truly a miracle that we had got together at all, we were so different. The tinkle of the bell above the door caused my head to snap up and I let out a light gasp as I saw who it was.

He looked different, he was thinner and paler, and his soft brown eyes were tired and bloodshot. I shifted closer into the corner, allowing the shadows to envelop me, hoping he wouldn't notice me. He walked up to the counter with a small smile, which grew as the waiter noticed him and placed his paperback onto the polished surface.

"Hey Ryou, it's been a while since I've seen you."

"Hi Hiro," I growled softly at the nickname, "yeah, I've just been really busy lately."

Hirotima nodded understandingly, then his forehead furrowed, "are you okay?"

Ryou waved away his concern with a smile, "I'm fine, just tired is all. How's buisness?"

I raised my eyebrow at the blatant change in conversation, any fool could see that Ryou wasn't okay.

"Quiet, as usual." He smiled ruefully, "anyway, the usual?"

"Yes please Hiro." Ryou looked relieved that Hirotima had accepted the conversation change and had decided not to pry any further.

"Go grab a seat, I'll bring it over."

"Thanks." Ryou smiled again and walked over to what I had learnt was his usual table in front of the window, taking a seat that allowed me to view his side profile. I squirmed further into my chair, draining the rest of my coffee and suddenly realising how badly thought through my plan was. I felt slightly panicky, now he was here I had no idea what to do. I was so lost in thought that I jumped at the reappearance of the waiter at my table, who had apparently just taken Ryou his tea.

"Sorry," he smiled at my alarmed look, "refill?"

I nodded and he took my mug with his ever-present smile, disappearing into what I assumed was the kitchen, leaving just me and Ryou in the café.

I swallowed loudly, the coffee had made my mouth dry and my hands were beginning to sweat. Melvin was right, this was a stupid plan. I felt horribly out of my depth, there were few people who I couldn't get to do my bidding with a whispered threat or a quick flash of my knife. Of course, threatening Ryou would just make things worse, and he knew full well that I would never hurt him. Physically at least.

"There you go Sir." Hirotima placed a newly filled mug of coffee before me.

I nodded and he walked off, to read his novel no doubt. I took a drink of coffee, looking over the rim of the mug only for my crimson eyes to lock with a honey brown pair which soon widened in surprise.

Shit.