A/N: Set within episode 11 when Yuki and Shuichi are on their date and Yuki just told about his past with Kitazawa. I always wondered how hard it must have been for Yuki to tear up the photo of Kitazawa and what must have been going through his mind…

Comments and criticism are appreciated.

Laced with Regret

"I'm g-going to buy us some drinks!" Shuichi volunteered. He spoke cheerfully, but Yuki could hear the tremor in his voice.

Shuichi went sprinting off in search of the vending machines and Yuki was alone again. Well… not entirely alone. Kitazawa was with him.

As soon as Shuichi was gone and no one else was around to see, Yuki's face crumpled in sorrow. It hurt even more than he'd thought it would to talk about Kitazawa. It was a story he never had to tell anyone. When the incident in New York happened almost ten years earlier, Tohma was the one who told Yuki's family about it. No one else needed to know.

Shuichi changed things for Yuki, and for the first time in the author's life, he realized he needed to make a choice. Until that moment, Yuki kept Kitazawa-sensei a closely guarded secret from Shuichi, like an adulterer with a secret mistress on the side.

Even when Yuki showed Shuichi the photo of Kitazawa and himself, it pained him to introduce his tutor in such detached terms as "the guy I killed." It felt far too irreverent to describe the feelings he had for his tutor as that of a brother, but what else could he say? It was nearly impossible to tell Shuichi what happened while maintaining a calm demeanor. If he got any deeper than scratching the surface, it would have been impossible to speak.

Yuki traced his fingertips lightly across Kitazawa's face in the photograph. Touching the photo was one thing Yuki never let himself do before lest he mar the surface with fingerprints. It was the only photograph Yuki had of the two of them together and he treated it with immaculate care as if it were a paper-thin piece of glass and not a photo in his hands.

Now he could not restrain himself from touching the picture any longer because this was a parting. This was good-bye. Yuki slid shaking fingertips across Kitazawa's face and imagined it was warm flesh he touched and not the cold slick surface of a photograph.

This was the choice he'd made. Yuki knew what he was going to do from the moment he put the photo in his coat pocket to take on his date with Shuichi. He couldn't keep them both and it would never be Kitazawa's body heat that kept Yuki warm in bed at night.

Yuki took the photo in both hands and before he could let himself rethink it, he tore the photo in half. The pain rocked him to his core and sharp regret lanced through his chest. It hurt as badly as ripping his own flesh, but he knew if he stopped at that moment, he would never find the strength to continue. He ripped the photo again and again in a frenzy until it lay in his hands in a pile of shredded memories.

He clenched the tattered pieces in his fist. Now that it was too late to change his decision, the cresting wave of regret wash over him and he allowed himself to feel it fully. He wanted to take it back, to fix the picture—his last remaining memory of his first and only love. But no matter how devastated he felt in the moment, he knew that in the calm of that morning he'd thought it was the right thing to do—a necessary sacrifice so he could keep something more important.

I'm going to miss you so much. It was all Yuki could think about. There was nothing in his life he regretted more than murdering Kitazawa. It felt like reliving the horror of his sins to destroy the last remaining image of him as well.

Yuki forced himself to extend his trembling fist out over the railing that overlooked the bay. He released his grip and the wind greedily snatched the pieces from his fingers.

Yuki watched with haunted eyes as the torn pieces fluttered like feathers on the breeze, gone forever.

"I'm sorry, Yuki," he choked. The tears welling in his eyes finally slipped free and slid down his face. There was no one around to see them, so Yuki did not wipe them away. The wind made them turn instantly cold on his cheeks and it felt good somehow.

There was no turning back and he'd made his choice. His lover would return soon with drinks in hand and a smile on his face. Still, a sick part of Yuki made him want to throw himself over the railing and see if it was not too late to reclaim some of the pieces he'd thrown away. Just a shred to remember him by--that was all he needed!

Yuki turned away from the railing, unable to stand the sight of the pieces settling gently on the rocking waves below. His eyes burned and his throat ached. He realized he couldn't bear the sight of Shuichi either. This was a private funeral and something Shuichi could never understand.

Yuki dragged the arm of his coat down his face to dry his cheeks and quickly moved away from the railing. He made the journey home alone.