As Audrey peered dismally past the fingerprints on the fogged glass of the bus window, she felt absolutely nothing significant. Only two words formed and repeated themselves, and only those two words made sense.

Vitamin K.

With a sigh, Audrey began to dig in her bag for the graham crackers she had tossed in earlier. Her fingers toppled clumsily over packages of gum, cigarettes, and other various things before landing with a satisfying crinkle on what could only be her beloved crackers. She tore the package open neatly at the seam.

They'd always given her graham crackers; as far back as she could remember. As a child, Audrey would sit against the wall, always by the same window, and munch almost timidly on the sweet, sugary crackers, wiping off occasional drops of blood with the back of her small hand from under her nose.

"Darling, darling Audrey," the pleasant older gentleman with glasses would say as he patted Aubrey's dark auburn hair, smoothing the unruly waves and curls under his aged hands. "A little vitamin K will slow those nosebleeds." She would look up at him with those wide silvery-gray eyes of hers, and smile a small smile as she took the crackers from the lovely old man.

Now, on this bus to nowhere especially particular, Watari's voice brought her barely a quarter of the comfort it used to provide. Perhaps it was the dreary sky, hailing rain down on the city that dragged up a different voice.

It was always days like today that always reminded her of Matt. Hell, every time she bit into a graham cracker, Audrey would remember how he would lift his head, only for a moment, to snort a laugh at the younger girl, slouched against the wall.

Just because his perfect nose never had a problem bigger than the occasional sneeze. "Damn vitamin K and stupid blood clotting issues…" Audrey mumbled, nibbling the cracker with a dissatisfied sigh.

The older boy was never all that nice to her anyway, but she had learned to digress. After spending her first few months at Whammy's under the watchful eyes of Watari, Audrey befriended a small, pale boy who, much like herself, rather enjoyed the spot by the window. She was standoffish of him at first, fearful that one of her sporadic nosebleeds would stain his plain white pajamas.

And while the boy called 'Near' would never say much, Audrey enjoyed the quiet of his company. The two passed their time toying with puzzles and other random playthings that Near seemed to just pull out of thin air. Every day, they would meet by the same window, he with a different toy tucked under his arm each time, she with the same shy smile. Near would sit either next to or facing young Audrey, one knee tucked into his chest, the other underneath of his small body. On bright days, the sun would sparkle in his pastel hair, which he would twirl around one of his nimble fingers. He looked almost extraterrestrial at times, so lovely and thoughtful that it should have been impossible or illegal.

Yet tucked away behind one of her many books, Audrey could never feel jealousy toward the softness that was Near's ever so placid demeanor. She found herself only able to respect her companion, to admire and revere him as their days went by. Near was her one true friend at the house of Whammy's. He defended her endlessly when her blood would refuse to clot and her nose would bleed rather horridly into her pale fingers; when Matt would lift his head from his handheld video game to let a snide remark slide from his insipid lips while another boy with short, blond hair and rather sinister eyes would join in the amusement. Near would merely mumble something amazingly witty in that gentle voice of his that would send Matt and Mello into a stunned silence for a brief and shining moment.

A slight taste of distain crept into Audrey's mouth as the memory of Mello's face came to mind. Now that boy was a creature that hell itself wouldn't take, she was sure of it. Oh, how she remembered hoping he would just once choke on his laughter and chocolate. The thought seemed to please her, even now. It amazed her that Matt could be such a good friend to Mello – surely any sane person would have given up on such a lost soul. Or perhaps that was just her distaste for the young man getting the better of her. But Matt's dedication almost made her sick. It disgusted her to see the way he would hang on every word, eager to help, to serve. Like a puppy.

Or maybe she hated that Matt's attention only turned to her when she was doing something horribly embarrassing. Audrey felt the bus pull to a stop. She wiped away at the foggy window with the sleeve of her coat, peering around to find herself in an unfamiliar part of town. Nonetheless, she could find her way. Walking would give her a chance to clear her head. The rain had stopped, leaving the city streets dark and littered with washed up garbage.

Audrey's grimy Converse shoes dragged her weary feet along the pavement of the sidewalk. Her hands were shoved deep into the pockets of her coat, eyes trained on the cracks and dirt of the ground beneath her. She watched the brief, occasional glow of a streetlamp glisten over the wet pavement, thinking few thoughts of a significant source, not even bothering to wonder where she was just yet. Every now and then, a car would whiz by, but she paid no mind when they would spray water over her feet.

Looking up to find herself completely and shamelessly lost in a busier part of town, Audrey decided to sit and wait at the nearest bus stop. She could see the small, glassed structure sitting on the corner of the street, up ahead, looking lonesome as ever in the aftermath of the rain. She walked briskly, suddenly wondering how badly her auburn locks had frizzed in the static-y, damp air. Thankfully, the bench under the glass covering was dry, and Audrey sat down gratefully, only just realizing that her legs were throbbing in disagreement to her sudden vigorous walk.

Her chest heaved a heavy sigh as she stretched her slender legs out, preparing to wait. Audrey began digging around her bag again, her slight fingertips flitting over the assorted contents briefly before landing on her package of cigarettes. No sooner had she pulled one out and made to put it to her lips did the rumble of the bus shake her to awareness. Audrey pushed herself off of the bench, tucking the cigarette back into its place, and stepped lightly onto the bus.

"Before you put those away, mind if I steal one?" The voice from behind her piqued her ears more than her interest, and without a glance, she extended a cigarette over her shoulder and made her way to an empty seat. The bus began to move, and Audrey began to go over in her head just where she was, or where she could end up. This bus route, she was sure, would end a block away from her apartment complex. From there, she would walk home, smoking her cigarette before crawling into her worn out futon to sleep restlessly, tormented by dreams of vivid color and nonsense until she would wake in the middle of the night to drink coffee and refuse sleep for the remaining hours of darkness. And she would be okay with that; abandoning hopes of easy sleep to read or draw was something she thought almost fondly of.

For fact, Audrey wondered why she slept at all. So much more was accomplished in her waking hours, and sleep seemed rather irrelevant as it were. The bus squealed to a stop, and Audrey looked up to find herself in the intersection of more familiar roads. She exited the bus, greeted by the scent of cigarette smoke that was carried on a soft breeze. "Thanks for the cancer." The same voice struck a different chord as it was tossed over the man's slender shoulder in a careless, familiar manner. Audrey found herself unable to move.