Yami's koi: A new suicide fic here. I might do a Yu Yu Hakusho one soon... but I don't know who will die. I have a hunch, but I don't know why he would. Any suggestions for my next victim? I'm kinda overdoing this character too much.

Neutral Man: this is a songfic, right?

Yami's koi: right. The song is Green Day's Good Riddance (Time of your Life). I'm gonna do another angsty fic, which is in the works! Well... enjoy this... more at the end...

Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road.

I lie once more on the cold tiles of my kitchen. Yes, that's right. My kitchen. It doesn't belong anymore to that bastard I once considered a yami, and a friend. Well... not that he ever considered me as any of those things.

No, I've always been this way, ever since that fatal day just a mere two years ago. It seems almost like an eternity has passed me by, yet I understand the ways of time. Only when I was being betrayed and abused did I note the world's slowly unravelling plots.

Time grabs you by the wrists, directs you where to go.

No one's ever been here for me. I vowed that until I could find myself someone who would stay, would never play games behind me, I would remain solitary and despondent. Tch, even that theory has run its course, every nerve screaming at me now to simply complete what everyone wants of me.

Firstly the beatings started out as slow and mild bruising to my arms and legs. Now I cannot hide the evidence from even Jou. Yes, he has noticed... no doubt Seto, his lover, has mentioned something to him. He never really was too brilliant at observing things... even when he duels. So naïve of him to actually believe me when I said I had joined an after school club of sports.

So make the best of this test, and don't ask why.

Pity. Jou will never know how much I think about him and Seto. I'm not jealous of Seto being with him, but I envy the company... the kisses. Such things I miss, and now will for all eternity.

But I have been betrayed and beaten for too long now. Gone are those days that are condemned to pure blood shed... in fact, days in themselves are going to disappear. For me, at least.

I'm going to mock my yami. I will use the very same blade in which he has used so many times against the unfortunate Tomb Keepers to penetrate my own skin. Then I will bring my abyss of cold death nearer when I... well, that would be an interesting idea...

It's not a question but a lesson learnt in time.

I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling. My two wrists lift, my left bared to the cold steel alloy once more which is drawing closer and closer with every passing breath. Without even waiting for my skin to adjust to the icy, curved knife, I press in and sharply draw it across the length of pale skin.

The knife bites, but not enough to draw any amount of blood. Unfortunately it seems that my strength is greater when I can actually see what I am slitting, and to ensure that actually reach my desired target. I withdraw the blade and lean my back against the wall. Now I resume my cutting, only a small tingle residing in my wrist.

It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.

My eyes narrow. This is not what I want. I desire pain, I crave death, and I will NEVER achieve any of this when I can only feel the tiniest of stings. With unrestrained strength I press down hard when I next draw the knife across my skin. I watch the skin sink slightly as the added pressure finally makes an impact... and howl with delight when the redness of my blood rises to the surface.

My life sustaining liquid traces along the edge of my yami's killing tool, dying my skin red when it passes along uncut parts. Soon the rhythm of my slitting drives me to rock back and forth; my eyes alight with the hunger for more of that feeling.

I hope you had the Time of Your Life.

I feel no pain. The cut skin tingles, obviously, but I mean internally. I cannot find a single location inside that screams at me to stop, that Bakura is not the heartless slut I deem he is. Because I know he is. He always will be an abusing, heartless thief who can do naught but deceive and hurt. He has used my body to turn my friends against me for long enough. This is my only escape.

I cast a shadowy look down at my wrist and, against my will, I shudder. That tingle has now developed, and I feel the throbbing quicken and beat harder against the surrounding skin. I did not expect to see the amount of blood that is now beginning to pool around me, too, dripping onto my clothes and the floor. It's coldness sinks into my skin, which is exactly the opposite of what I want to happen. I want it to escape, dammit!

So take the photographs and still frames in your mind.

A nerve is struck on my next slash, and the throbbing pain of my wound seems so unimportant now compared to this. Ah, its so intense... so strong that I almost drop my yami's dagger in surprise.

Gods this hurts, but I crave it. This is no longer something I cannot deny. Iie. I have delayed this doom for so long now... and yet I am fazed by pain?

If this is how it will be, then fine. Fuck it. This wrist, along with its veins, will be sliced, and then my next plan will be put into action. Originally I had only one way I desired to die.

And now I have three. Each of which I shall use, NOW!

Hang it on a shelf in good health in good time. Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial.

With a quiet whimper of pain, my eyes automatically clenching shut; I drive the knife into the gash deeper, dragging its sharpness into whatever it can. A continuous pain now explodes in my wrist, and I release a loud howl. Its sounds are mixed: for it includes a hint of agony, tainted by the choking relief of happiness. I can almost feel the veins being severed, every nerve struck by the furious striking from the blade in my hand.

Happy. A word that means nothing to me. Surprisingly this is what I have not been for nearly two years now. And yes, you've got this correct: because of Bakura I've been this way. And it is because of him that I am here today, doing what I am. I have a feeling him and I would have developed such a beautiful friendship, had he been more like Yami... Yugi's darkness, and lover.

For what it's worth, it was worth all the while.

Now, for my second plan. This will most probably kill me before I even attempt my third desire. I am only thankful that I have written enough to haunt Bakura for the rest of his days in my suicide note that lies on the side.

It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.

With a quiet groan, my gash is free from the metal that made it. Now the blood drips frequently around me, forming a small pool around my half bare body. For some obscene reason, I have always wanted to die with my shirt discarded.

I rise and then stagger over to the shit drawer, which contains paracetamol and other medicinal tablets. I grab whatever I can, heedless of every life giving substance in the world. If I do not retch these back up within roughly a minute, then I know that the overdose will kill me.

I do not even bother with the luxury of water to swallow these down with, fully used to being deprived of what I need. The tablets slide down my throat with ease, and I collapse to the floor again, my knife stroking into my gash again. My breathing is becoming a torture now, every breath I breathe being laboured and shallow. It is almost enough to make me actually value and appreciate the stupid cycle of oxygen inhalation.

I hope you had the Time of your Life.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT!

My stomach... fuck... it's almost as if it's rejecting the medicine, and the tablets won't accept it! Ah, Ra, this hurts... this hurts so much more than what my wrist does.

"FUCK YOU, BAKURA!" I scream when I finally place my third idea into action. With a deep breath, one of the last I would ever take, I impale myself onto the sword. As it penetrates my inner organs, including my stomach, I feel an iciness match it.

It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.

Death nears me now. I feel Anubis' henchmen draw nearer, approaching me from behind. I can almost feel the warm presence of the Afterlife consume me with its bliss. For anything that I have to endure, even if in the Underworld, will be better than what I have experienced during my time here on Earth, short lived and pointless though it may have been.

Now my body can be Bakura's temple. He can do what he wants. I do not feel guilty.

I hope you had the Time of Your Life.

As I draw my last shallow, broken breath, I reflect on why I chose this day. Yes, there is a reason.

Because it has been exactly two years to the day since I received the Millennium Ring.

Yami's koi: other angsty fics are out, too, if you figure you like this style of writing. Reviews will be accepted gratefully, and for reviewing you'll get a plushie of Change of Heart Ryou. I know Ryou committing suicide is getting overdone by me recently, but I can't do that to Yugi. Maybe perhaps to Yami... but not Yugi. I guess this is dedicated to Cattypatra, Neutral Man and past reviewers. And... obviously Green Day owns Good Riddance (Time of Your Life), and not me. I wish I did. But I don't.

Bakura: I didn't come in and declare my love for Ryou, what gives?!

Yami's koi: yeah, about that... if you want an additional chapter, I can do one. But about Bakura, why he abused Ryou, what the suicide note said, etc. See ya sometime.