Apologies to everyone that is waiting for a chapter from Black and White Roses. I've been attacked by a really, really vicious onslaught of writer's block. But no fear...I'm almost done with that chapter and shall be posting it soonly. In the meantime...this is an idea that I just had in the middle of the night and I just had to write it up. This is also an experimental piece for me because the writing style's a bit different that what I usually do, so it might not be satisfactory. If so...please review and tell me so that I don't write like tihs again.

And now the ever cheesy title

All that I want

Ryou sometimes wondered why Bakura left so abruptly after a conversation between the two of them; sometimes it seemed that Bakura despised him and it made him miserable that his yami would hate him enough to leave him all alone for about a week without a word. OF course, he'd always return after that, like he always did and he would be almost sickeningly sweet, or extremely awkward and kind, strangely enough. It frightened him sometimes, the mood swings that would come from Bakura, just like a PMSing woman.

One minute he and Bakura would be getting along fine, eating another one of Ryou's home cooked meals…or takeout if Bakura was being difficult, but more often than not, one of Ryou's home cooked meals. They'd be having a discussion about whatever the topic was, varied as it may have been Ryou always enjoyed them. Sometimes Ryou would say something or Bakura would just freeze in the middle of his ranting (and yet endearing) monologue and a funny expression would come over his bold face and Ryou would just watch, wondering what was going through Bakura's complex mind. Bakura'd then scoot his chair back, making an ear piercing screeching against the ground whilst making Ryou wince at the sharp sound which hurt his sensitive ears. Standing up, the older boy would take his dish to the dishwasher and dump his trash into the trashcan while saying that he was not hungry before disappearing for about ten minutes and disappearing out the front door with a quiet slam(if that was possible) with his coat and Ryou wouldn't see him for days. Ryou never knew where the white haired thief disappeared off to, never knew when he would be back, never even knew if he would ever come back. He'd always leave the front door unlocked though, even when it was stormy or when there were criminal alerts because Bakura always forgot to take his keys with him, silly dark. There would also be food still left in the refrigerator or in a pot on the stove, still simmering by the time he made his way up to bed and there would always be lights on in the house so that Bakura wouldn't trip over anything, as preposterous as that sounded. There would also be a hot bath running if it was raining that day since Bakura never had an umbrella with him, no matter what happened and the bed would always be neatly made if Bakura should decide he was tired as well as a bottle of whatever wine or beer that was available on the table in the kitchen, ready for Bakura.

Ryou would always knew when Bakura returned though, for better or worse and no matter what would happen, for Ryou, it would always be better. Ryou would always know, whether Bakura was back because when he came when Ryou was sleeping, Ryou would go to brush his teeth and find all the toiletries all over the drained bathtub and when he went downstairs, he'd find the food eaten, the drinks drunk and the coat put neatly back in place. Then Ryou would silently make his way into Bakura's room and see the white haired delinquent snoring away in his fluffy bed made up of plush pillows and a thin blanket that barely covered his bare chest. Most times, Ryou would then pull up an unsqueaky chair and watch his yami sleep for a few minutes before realizing he had class and leave, putting everything back and closing the door.

Sometimes though, Bakura would not come back in the late, late evenings, and then Ryou would simply sigh and clean up Bakura's clean room again and drain the now cold bath and take another shower before walking downstairs and putting last night's dinner into the refrigerator and leave a dish of breakfast out for Bakura while putting away the alcohol as well and remember to leave the door unlocked as he walked out the door, wishing the empty house a good day.

Sometimes Bakura would then arrive when he was at school or at work and then Ryou would once more know because when he entered the house, his dark coat would be on the coat hanger and the breakfast (or lunch, whichever) would be gone and neatly put into the sink and there would be scents of Egyptian perfumes and incense making their way down from the still steamy and empty bathroom. Then Ryou would make his way into Bakura's bedroom, and the poor thing would find Bakura once more, either sound asleep in his warm bed or he would be in his room, either shuffling his deck or reading a book (something that he picked up for Ra only knows why.) or sometimes, simply reclining on his bed and waiting for Ryou to get to him. Then Ryou would sit by his side, regardless of his conscious situation and just watch Bakura do whatever he did unless Bakura decided he wanted to do something else and then he and Bakura would go downstairs and do something.

Then there were times that Bakura returned at neither of these times and Ryou would begin to feel disappointed, and then Bakura would waltz into Ryou's part time job as a waiter and plop himself down at a booth and waive different waiters until Ryou came around to take his order. Bakura would wait for as long as it would take for Ryou to get to him and then say all sorts of corny and strangely enough sweet things and Ryou would feel his cheeks get all flushed and then Bakura would laugh in his rasping voice and wait for Ryou's shift to be over and just watch Ryou try to be as graceful as possible, despite cat calls and whistles by his coworkers and the fact that his yami was still watching. Then maybe a little while later, as Ryou's shift began to wind down, his yami would perk up and his eyes become positively feral and when Ryou began to untie that silly white apron around his waist, Bakura would pounce, dragging the poor hikari down the street back home where Ryou would grudgingly cook Bakura a welcome back dinner.

After a while, Ryou had started becoming alarmed at how often Bakura disappeared after a while as at first, Bakura would just leave maybe once every three months for a day to half a week but gradually they had started getting longer and more frequent, being gone every month for a week or more. However Ryou never said anything on the ever elusive subject, why meddle in things that didn't even matter that much, Bakura would always come home again. But then he'd left for a long, long time without a word and Ryou had worried that he'd never come back again and Ryou fretted inside but wasn't as vitreous with this to the outside world and he kept on waiting. Then Ryou began to make preparations for Bakura leaving and coming back…it would be easier, no?

Ryou had a copy of his house key made, even though Bakura probably didn't need it and made sure that it was in Bakura's coat pockets at all time, and speaking of which, he made sure that the coat was always clean so that if Bakura should decide to leave, it would be clean for a little while. Ryou also kept all the incenses and Bakura's favorite soaps and such in a special cupboard so that they wouldn't be cluttering up his own showers and also made sure that there was some food that Bakura could eat that would last a while so that he didn't have to keep cooking for someone who wasn't there and Ryou also installed automatic lights so that he didn't have to waste the electric bill on having lights on for the whole night. Still he waited for Bakura to come home when he left and would read until maybe four in the morning and then he would be astonished and turn off his blue lamp, say a little prayer in hopes that Bakura would come home soon and then fall asleep.

Bakura never said anything about where he went or why he went and never said anything about what happened when he went away and he never said anything about what happened when he came back and Ryou was perfectly fine with that; that was how they'd always lived, on a need to know and want to know basis. Of course Ryou did wonder about where Bakura went and what he did and most of all why he left, but he was a mild sort of person as everyone knows, as long as Bakura returned, he was fine with that, no need to mess with their relationship.

Yet if Ryou held onto hope so well, then why was poor Ryou sitting on his old fashioned window sill, staring out onto the darkened skies and streets, illuminated by dim streetlamps and looking like Ryou was fighting back tears? The answer was not exactly difficult, and neither was the answer complex…Bakura had left again without warning like usual and he hadn't returned for a very long time. IT had been like any other time, Ryou and Bakura were having a conversation about…well actually, Ryou couldn't remember what the conversation was about at all, it had been too long ago but Bakura had done the same as always, choke on his food and claimed that he wasn't hungry anymore before disappearing out the door. Calmly, Ryou had proceeded to clean the kitchen and the rest of the house to keep his mind off the frequency of Bakura's disappearance and tried not to let his concern show…cleaning always did that for him. However…it had been the beginning of summer vacation when he'd left, and now it was already the beginning of winter break; he'd been gone for so long, that Ryou couldn't even remember their last conversation, just barely hoped that Bakura would come back one day, and yet hope he did.

Yugi, Joey, Tristan, Tea and the Pharaoh did their best of course, as loyal friends to distract the quiet boy from his darker half's mysterious disappearance but the quiet Brit continued to just smile his polite smile and decline from their invitations to the arcade or to a fast food joint; he was still waiting for his other half you see and he could return at any moment. Eventually, they realized that they were being unsuccessful and their efforts could only be described as complete failures and so they gradually drew back on their offers although they still kept the option open to Ryou and still invited him maybe once a month now, watching from a distance as he went to school with his ever present smile on his face and the fact that the expression in his eyes completely matched the pure innocence in Ryou's smile and words that Bakura would come back, rarely faltering.

Yet more time passed and poor Ryou began to feel his smile lose the faith that had kept him going for so long and he began to doubt now, wondered if Bakura would ever come back. His life still went on and his senior year began to draw to a close and he began making preparations for going to college by sending in applications and essays and gathering his numerous scholarships from previous dueling tournament, essay contests, musical competitions, and for having good grades all year round and somewhere in the back of Ryou's mind Ryou still fretted about Bakura; what if Bakura came back when Ryou went off to a university dorm and he wasn't there?

More time passed and Ryou despaired miserably; it really seemed that his yami had ditched him and left him on his own again without a good bye. He must have been a fool, Ryou mused to himself with despondent thoughts, believing for an instant that Bakura might have really cared about him enough to truly stay by his side until eternity or death and that Bakura might have even actually liked him and so Ryou mused while continuing to absently make enough food for two people instead of just him.

Graduation passed and his father took the time to come and his father came and went like always, just barely noticing that his son was seemingly miserably and lifeless like a plant instead of a human; but he paid it no mind, dismissing it as yet another phase that teenagers went through and instead put his thoughts to the next excavation and the fascinating things that he might uncover at it, not even knowing the destruction that a former excavation of his had caused.

Through all this, Ryou never gave up that small, flickering flame of hope although his mind and all his logic screamed at his heart to let go of the useless hope that held him back in the world so that he could move forward and be himself again but his heart and soul stubbornly refused, although they could have been weeping with despair at the diminishing light and held tightly to the hope like never before. In the midst of this raging war inside of himself, Ryou was completely oblivious and was probably better off not knowing that the two sides were battling it out for his faith in Bakura, and so Ryou lived with Bakura's absence numbly, weeping when he was alone with desolation and sleep was a peaceful sanctuary except for the nights when he dreamed.

Ryou knew that he couldn't live like this for too much longer but he was still determined to try, damn the consequences and so every day of his vacation, he went to work mechanically and served and then came home, cooked, took a bath, and went to sleep.

Ryou went to work and smiled at his employer without much of the emotion that caused a smile in his eyes and put on the flat white apron and took up his pad and pen and went over to his usual tables, smiling at the customers politely and taking their orders and the customers who came regularly felt their hearts breaking for this poor boy who had sorrow reflected in his eyes and how his every movement reflected grief when once they had been bouncing with joy and life.

Ryou ended work and folded his apron neatly like always before putting it in one of the lockers in the backroom and picked up his paycheck and smiled his ever growing sad smile and bid his coworkers a good bye before leaving, always declining their invitations to a bar or a karaoke. He walked home with his head bent down and made his way to his empty house before pulling out his key and unlocking the door. Turning the doorknob with slender fingers he paused like usual; day after day, week after week, the same thing…he didn't want it anymore-but he couldn't leave it behind.

So like always, Ryou opened the door and locked it behind him before deciding he wasn't hungry and made sure that there was still food in the refrigerator before making his way up to his room, trying not to look at the closed door that said 'Bakura' in Bakura's scrawled writing from when he'd first written in Japanese. Ryou turned the silver doorknob in his hand and walked in-

-to find his room transformed. Candles with Ryou's favorite scents and colors decorated his bookshelves, his desk, empty tables and drawers and everything, casting a gentle glow in the dark room while petals of flowers that Ryou favored adorned the ground and his bed. What he realized though, was that the flowers and candles (and statues he noted) were decorated in layers as though he'd just stepped in a shrine. In wonder, Ryou stepped forward, losing himself for a moment and as soon as he reached the middle, the door swung shut and Ryou looked back before gasping, tears filling his eyes.

Bakura, in all of his dark glory stood there, his crimson eyes sharp and lined with kohl and his hair still messy yet him. He wore his black trench coat which was clean if not a little dusty and he looked strangely gaunt although by no means unhealthy and his bloody eyes gleamed slightly as he picked himself off the wall and stepped forward, his outreached arm falling back to his side and swung there uselessly. Bakura continued to stalk forward and his wine red eyes never left Ryou's, always watching.

"Ryou." His voice still rasped and was still dark and deep, unrelentingly alluring. He stopped when he was in front of Ryou and looked at him almost searchingly, although they never lost that guarded expression. Ryou could feel himself almost choking and only just managed to blurt out his question.

"Why did you leave me?" Bakura recoiled slightly at the harshness in Ryou's voice and the hurt and the pain as well as the imploring nature of the question. His eyes changed then and they became confused and human, and Bakura wondered that he knew the answer and it was a true answer and he continued to stare into Ryou's eyes intently, holding that steady gaze as if he'd never let go.

"I didn't know how to love you."

Time stopped and Ryou stared, gaping before turning, afraid to let Bakura see the fear and hurt in his face, afraid to let him see the confusion and loss atBakura's blunt statementbut he could still feel Bakura's smoldering gaze continuing to burn into the back of his head.

I didn't know how to love you.

No sound and yet Ryou knew that Bakura moved again, especially now that warm breath haunted the back of Ryou's neck and the lobe of his ear. "Tell me Ryou, so that I don't have to look again, tell me zaihou, how?"

Ryou shivered and a small tear leaked out and ran down his upturned face.

"All I want from you is for you to just hold me." He whispered in a small voice, a strange, small voice that was foreign to his ears. "Let me know that you're there and not gone...I don't want to be alone. That's all that I want, need from you."

"Ah…" Bakura breathed out in a low hiss of understandingand Ryou shivered again as powerful, wiry arms wrapped around him, surrounding him and he stiffened but the grip around him tightened ever slightly, protectively as he led Ryou to sit on his bed, cradling the boy against his chest. "Ah…I can do that."

Esther: Suddenly embarrased I'm not too sure about that. The style was different at the beginning and changed slightly...it was bad.But anyway, please review. I might make Bakura's point of view but who knows?

Bakura: I TURNED INTO A SOFTIE! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU WOMAN!

Esther: Oh shut up and deal with it.