I-LOVE-RYU!

Sorry, it had to be said. Even though in my stories I treat him like s—t I really do love him. Honest! And what my big question is is why did I write shit s—t when I swear my head off in this story anyway? My proof-reader's influence, no doubt…

Personally, I like this chapter. I like writing the insightful stuff (have you noticed?) And, well… I don't know. Perhaps it's just the weird fascination fan-girls get of being extremely horrible to their favourite characters. (Did I say that out loud? O.O) But anyway. Hope you enjoy! Thanks as always for reviewing! And Mask, if you're there… umm… -thinking of way to diss you- You smell! :) Nah, kidding… I really like your comments, they make me giggle. Don't take offence at me trying and failing to think of something to diss you with, alright? :)

I am so damn HAPPY. Not only do I have five days off school (exams are over! Yeah, baby!) NINJA GAIDEN HAS COME!

-Space for everyone to roll their eyes and sigh here-

AND THE POSTER IS SO DAMN BIG! RYU'S GORGEOUS MUG IS SO BIG! EEEEEEEEE!

I can't get over it… not yet, anyway.

And, umm, no, I haven't died yet… I've been taking out all my bottled up angst (exam angst) on the wall! Die, biatch!

Rephrase: Next morning. I have died. In fact, I've died lots. And it ain't so bad… DIE HAYATE! Well… kind of… but… damn Murai… -muttering- No, really... I haven't cried yet! I'm so proud of myself!

First day of the weekend. Normally, he would probably be out, with Hayate and maybe a few others from school. Downtown, perhaps, or for a drive. Surprisingly enough, and scarily so, Brad was the only one out of them with a license, other then Hayate.

Perhaps for a walk down the beach. The beach was such a peaceful place, especially since the summer rush had finished. He could go down there and get some peace and quiet, some sanctuary, some solitude.

But not today. He was cooped up in his room with nothing to do. All homework done. Nothing to do except stare at the walls and wonder. Wonder distantly, what Hayate was doing, if his friend, if they indeed were still friends, was as bored as he was. Wonder why he couldn't gather up the courage to pick up the phone and apologise to someone he knew in some cases, better then himself. Wonder the meaning of everything. Wonder if there was even a meaning to everything. To anything.

Downstairs, he could hear muffled curses as his father bashed angrily around the kitchen, no doubt suffering the effects of a hangover. It would probably be best to stay out of his way.

He decided to actually get dressed before pondering anything else, instead of sitting and moping around in sleeping clothes all day. Pulling on a shirt and some black jeans, he tied his hair back carelessly, before carefully easing the window open as to not alert his father. Grabbing his mobile phone and some money off the desk, he slipped it into his pocket before climbing out of the window and onto the roof.

There was a faint breeze as he carefully edged around to the back of the house before jumping off the roof, landing in a crouching position on the bright green grass. With that, he sprung to his feet and vaulted himself up and over the fence, walking down the street as though nothing had happened.

Usually it was about a twenty minute walk to the beach. Today, it took well over half an hour. By the time he had made it there, he was surprisingly tired but continued walking, onto the cool sand and along the water's edge, staring out at the horizon.

Perhaps I just think too much. It's probably the same as any other argument Hayate and I have had. By Monday, everything will be back to normal.

But it seemed… different. As though Hayate was holding back until then. He almost… exploded at me. I never knew he thought that way.

Deep down, perhaps I still do hold him slightly responsible for the accident. But grudges can do nothing. Grudges can't bring her back.

"Hayabusa?"

He started, looking down where the voice had come from. To his surprise, it was a bikini-clad Christie, staring up at him with cold grey eyes. "Odd. Usually people don't come down this way, too far off the main shore. So. What brings you here? What's… different… about you?"

Too many things to count. "I've just always liked it down here,"

"Yes. Certainly a nice place," Luckily for him, she fell silent before he answered anything else.

He remained standing, not sure whether she was simply making polite conversation or wanted him to stop.

"You might as well stop for a little. Some conversation won't hurt, I suppose,"

"I suppose," he agreed grudgingly, sitting down beside her.

Silence for a moment. So much for conversation.

"So. Things aren't too good with you and Hayate, I see?"

He didn't say anything. He didn't need to.

"Hayate has been jealous of you for a long time. Even with you being as smart as he thinks you are, you still haven't managed to notice that. I'm surprised,"

"No. I'm not better then anybody else,"

A sudden breeze sent a shiver down his spine. Christie calmly pulled on a shirt before continuing.

"Perhaps so. But Hayate seems to think you are, hence the argument. Ever since you met, he's been forced to compete with you, forced to live under your shadow. Everything just came out at once, all the resentment he's held back for so long,"

"Are you trying to say that he doesn't like me and never has?" The words were more difficult to say then they should have been.

"Not quite, although the former is something you may have to consider in the future,"

She was so enigmatic. She was speaking simply, but he couldn't understand a word she was saying. Or perhaps I'm just a fool.

Christie frowned suddenly, a delicate grimace that made her features sterner. "You two are unusual friends. More like brothers then traditional best friends. It's odd. I've never really seen anything like it. I still can't quite discern how you two became friends in the first place,"

"I still can't either," he said softly.

"Just leave him alone for a while and see what happens," she advised. He nodded, as the unspoken request for him to leave hung in the air.

"Thankyou for your advice, Christie. Enjoy your weekend,"

"No problem. And I will,"

He continued walking, breathing in the fresh air, until he reached some cliffs. Tall, steep and jagged. Raising his eyes to follow the cliff up, he raised an eyebrow. How easy it would be for someone to slip and fall to their doom.

Or jump…

"No," he said, that one word hanging in the air. "I can't do that,"

Sometimes it was tempting. As he scaled the stairs up to the top of the hill, he passed the cliff and looked down. Those jagged rocks were still there, almost beckoning to him.

He pulled something out of his pocket. A photo; slightly crumpled. Probably because it always accompanied him wherever he went.

Until now.

Grasping it by the corners, he tore it, letting the pieces flutter down onto the sharp rocks.

Remnants of his life. Irene, Hayate and him. Free to float on the breeze as they pleased.

Whatever happens happens. The story of my life.