10
The next day, the last, is cold. I sit in my blanket on Bakura's couch, and I cry.
He lets me.
"I don't want to be alone!"
So he yells at me, "The storms are over, I'm still here, aren't I?"
"No..."
Like Jing, he kisses me again. But not softly. Like a possession. Blushing, I want to be like Nene, I want to be loved.
"Stupid Yadonushi," he growls, because he has to.
"I love you," crying, "love you like winter."
Muddled. Always muddled.
He doesn't seem to mind. He holds me. Tight, tight. "Yes, like winter."
Kisses me.