Usagi's shoulders sagged as he half walked/half staggered through his front door and slammed it behind him. He was so out of it he couldn't even remember if he bothered to turn the deadbolt or not. Something crunched under his foot. He looked down and saw a fragment of his mug from that morning. Oh yeah, he thought hazily, I remember now. It had only been hours since he stood here with Takahiro but it felt like centuries. He cupped his wounded hand carefully to avoid making a mess and headed to the bathroom.

Usagi winced at the burn of disinfectant. Now that it was clean it didn't look all that bad. He wasn't going to need stitches at least. He wrapped it in gauze and returned to the bedroom. He left out an
"oomph" as he collapsed onto his mattress. He felt stuck. Before Misaki came into his life, he was used to being on his own. Solitude and silence were his natural companions. Now he didn't know what to do with himself. He should be working on his manuscript. His deadline was fast approaching and he was behind but that was nothing new. His thoughts turned to the shattered mug and spilled coffee. Eh, leave it till morning. There didn't seem to be a point…to anything.

Usagi pulled back the sheets to slip into bed and his hand touched some foreign piece of fabric. When he retracted his arm he was clutching a tee-shirt. It was brown, it had short sleeves and it was too small for Usagi. It was his. Usagi buried his face in it and inhaled deeply. It smelled like him. Usagi curled into a ball. The material grew damp around his eyes. His shoulders hitched and heaved but he never made a sound. The clock ticked. Two horny cats yowled in the alley way. Someone in another apartment was watching TV loudly. Here in this pitch black room; Usagi huddled alone like a lost little boy who may never find his way home.

Journal entry 87: I can barely grip a pen in my hand. I cannot breathe. He took all of the air out of my lungs. I don't understand what went wrong. I cannot understand what went wrong. This world…this cruel fucking world is so warped sometimes I could never begin to make sense of it. Usami-sama, even though you have ripped my beating heart from my chest, I still love you. Please know it was not my intention to harm you. However you have left me with no other options. Your soul was corrupted too deeply by that whore's presence for me to do anything.

Rin raised a few fingers to his face. The blood had dried in drips and trails. His bangs stuck to his forehead at funhouse angles. Rin gazed into a box on his passenger seat. It was filled to the brim with notebooks. All black composition books, identical to the one in his hand. Months upon months of careful observation. Months and months spent lingering just out of reach like a fly on the wall. Everything would have been perfectly fine if that damn other one hadn't shown up.

Rin smiled when he thought back to the way Misaki had struggled; the way he had cried and begged for him to stop; the look in his eyes when he was thrown into Rin's trunk, and those pitiful half-conscious murmurs as he strung him up.

It made sense. He had hurt Rin by stealing Usami-sama's affection. Now he was receiving the misery he deserved. Justice had been served.

Unfortunately Misaki would not be alone in his pain. He was the rabid raccoon who bit the beloved dog. Now the dog needed to be put down. Rin opened his glove compartment. The long silver knife glittered menacingly. He watched out the window patiently.

A half hour passed before he saw his opportunity. A young man overwhelmed with files was headed in. Rin pulled up the hood of his jacket, discreetly slipped the weapon into his coat and surreptitiously followed. The young man struggled to balance his things as he unlocked the main entry way.

"Here, let me help you with that." Rin put on the most charming voice he could muster as he held the door open.

"Oh, thank you so much." The oblivious stranger hardly gave the seemingly benevolent man a second glance as he headed to the stairs. Rin breathed a sigh of relief.

"Don't mention in."

He had gotten what he wanted. He was in.

I'm on my way, Usami-sama.