I said it out loud. I love Bakura. Damn I wish I could take those words back. I looked around to change the subject, anything I could see would do. Yugi. He died. He really did die. I can see his…corpse, if it can be called that. It's so badly mutilated. Only the hair shows it's him. …why isn't Joey mad at me? I killed his best friend…why hasn't Joey killed me? When I was asleep, or when he had the chance in our fight?

"Joey…" I start, he looks at me, and still gaping over the fact I love Bakura.

"Yeah, Ryou…" he looks a little distant. Well, it has been a busy day…I mean, think about it, his best mate died and his murderer is in love with his Yami. Great. It's been longer on my part actually. I wonder what time it is…

"Um…don't you feel bad, about Yugi? Why haven't you tried to kill me? I killed your best friend…"

"Well, I kinda worked out that ya would never do anytin like dat unless Bakura possessed ya or somtin, so rich-boy here called the cops and dey're afta Bakura." What?! He thinks I was possessed…what!? I can't believe it. Well, I can. I'm not the murderous kind of person really.

"Joey…you have it all wrong. I did it on free will." Joey smiled and messed my hair up. I pouted.

"Ryou, don't worry bout it bud, we'll have Bakura caught and you won't have to worry bout him no more." He thinks I'm defending Bakura. And Bakura is going to think I told everyone he killed Yugi. My head hurts, this is insanity.

"Joey. Kaiba. Listen to me, please? I am not insane, I am not defending Bakura, I am not possessed. I killed Yugi. On free will. I wasn't forced." I sighed. This day was about to get longer.

"…But why, Ryou?" Joey's huge eyes saddened. "Why…?" he whispered softly, begging to cry. Joey Wheeler, going soft, who knew? His best friend has just died, so I guess its appropriate. I watched as Joey fell to his knees sobbing loudly. Punching the floor, screaming. Kaiba crouched down and put his arms around Joey, gently caressing his hair.

"There, there puppy, it's alright, it's going to be fine…" …Kaiba…is hugging Joey…what? I'm insane, I really have flipped. Murdering Yugi has sent me over the edge, into insanity. I've gone mad. Oh dear Ra.

"Err…" I moaned in confusion. Joey looks up at me from Kaiba's arms. He smiles weakly, and nuzzles back into Kaiba's chest. Kaiba gently nudged Joey, of who shook his head and gripped his guardian's white trench coat.

"Puppy, I think we confused him. Sorry Ryou, me and Joey have been going out for a few months…" He started talking about something, but I couldn't focus…Joey…and Seto Kaiba? I felt like I was about to faint.

"Mhmm…shorhy weh dihnth shayh hanyhtinh." I guess that was Joey apologising?

"Well, why has Joey only started crying now, he knew Yugi died, so why cry now?" I look quizzically at Kaiba.

"Well, because he assumed Bakura did it, he was angry, and the anger over whelmed his sorrow. But finding out you, of all people, killed his best friend, I guess he's disappointed in you, he didn't expect this." Disappointed. Yeah me too. I feel awful. I need to get home. Get away from all of this.

"So, how come you aren't mad at me?" I looked at them, I needed to know why,

"Well, I guess you're our friend too, and if Yugi's dead, he's dead. It can't be changed. We got angry at Bakura, because he's, well limitless, one person wont matter to him, a death to Bakura is in the scheme of something bigger. But, well, we know you will have had a reason, a really good one, to push you so far as to kill Yugi, so we wont pressure you into telling us what, if its personal." They understand, I'm relived. It's a pathetic reason not to get mad, but I guess between them both they've killed a few people themselves. In fact, I know they have. Kaiba killed his own step-father.

"Thank you," I whisper, and bow my head. "I need to get home. I'm sorry." They look at me, shaking their heads, I know they care but I have to leave. I find the knife a few feet away, crawl over to it and examine it. It's warm from the dried blood. Dull. It seems lifeless, as if it had a life before, and it's now dead. I sniffle and get to my feet. This knife needs cleaning. So do I. I set off out of the warehouse, with a different perspective to life as when I went in. It's a tiny thread, between life and dead, one cut, and it's over. So simple, but the consequences never end, they're so complex, so…unlimited.

I trudge down the docks, covered still in blood. I must look a picture. I stare out at the boats, floating gently on the sea. It all feels so calm. It's getting a little darker. Twilight. My face is gleaming in the shadows, my hair falls before my eyes, as not to see my silent tears. One drop, two drop, it's raining. I breathe in slowly and look up to the dark clouds. After what's happened today, the downpour seems predictable, but it makes me feel better. Rain is calming, soothing, it washes things away. It's getting slowly colder. It won't bother me, I'm almost home, a few more minuets. My eyes cast downwards, to the filthy floors of backstreets and alleyways. Graffiti sprayed onto every wall, loud music, and random screams. The rough side of town. Fitting that Bakura and I live here, is it not? Well, our house is on the corner, it's a little safer than the other houses, it's towards the end of the alleyways, where light can shine through the window. It shines into my room, Bakura hates the light-but I love it. It's what makes me feel safe, and warm. I can see out house. I search my pocket for the keys. After I've found them, I fumble them into the lock and push the door open with my head down. I walk in to find the house dark, and I can hear a faint noise coming from the living room. As I get closer, I can see a blue light, flickering through the crack in the door. Bakura's home. I tear my gaze away from the door and drag myself upstairs. I don't want to turn an upstairs light on, so I feel my way to the bathroom. Once inside, I shuffle around to find the light. Drop my coat off, which has the knife in and look at myself in the mirror. My hair's a mess. I have dried blood in a streak on my chin and from my nose. I have dried blood which isn't my own across my forehead and cheek; I touch it lightly and close my eyes. I run my finger down the blood streaks and sigh. I open my eyes; the deep red makes my skin look white. My eyes are blood shot. I hate the sight of myself, more than I usually do. I punch the mirror and pull my shirt off. I throw my shirt at the wall and watch it fall, the blood is still visible. I fall to me knees and punch the floor, clench my eyes shut and stare upwards. I clumsily get to my feet and unfasten my belt. I feel my jeans fall off, and I tear away the boxers. Kicking off my socks, I run a hand through my hair and step into the shower. I touch the cold handle and feel the warm, steamy water flow over me. It almost burns me, after the harsh, bitter winds I walked home on. I close my eyes and gently caress my skin with soap. Cleaning myself thoroughly. I thought of Yugi. The last image of his life, the first images of his death, burned into my brain. I couldn't get them out. Bakura's razor. I didn't have one, I've never needed one. I pressed the object to my wrist. It felt cold on my hot skin, a heaven, an escape. I swallowed, hard. I'd never done this before. I closed my eyes and dragged the blades up my wrist. I choked out a cry. It hurt. I liked it. I dragged it further, feeling the warm liquid pour from my veins. I'm in control; I can stop when I want. It feels so freeing, doing it myself rather than Bakura hurting me. I dropped the razor as a sharp burning pain stung my wrists. I fell to my knees in the shower, looking down I could see the red water flow away.