Set during early season 2 when Ryo is in the Pro Leagues.

Marufuji Ryo could remember hundreds of intense duels where he had felt pain, especially those where he was first learning to use a duel disk and had been unaccustomed to the simulated pain that came with getting attacked directly. He could remember dueling in all kinds of weather conditions and in the harsh mountain air with Samejima. But none of them pained him like this. The insults hurled from every corner of the arena hurt far worse than a physical strike ever could, and nine losses later, they were getting harder and harder to ignore.

"And it looks like Marufuji is stuck, folks!" It might have been Ryo's imagination, but he swore even the supposedly impartial announcer sounded like he was mocking him. "Not even his trademark Cyber Dragon can stand up to Mori's Sword Hunter. This could be the beginning of yet another defeat." The crowds wasted no time in booing as loudly as they could and Ryo fought the increasingly strong desire to give the hovering cameras a good view of his middle finger. But no, respect was one thing he prided himself on, and besides he wouldn't stoop to their level. Just focus on the duel.

He stared hard at his hand, reading the card effects over and over despite knowing them by heart. Hmm…if I summon my Cyber Dragon, I can use my Photon Generator Unit to sacrifice it and the one I already have on the field to summon Cyber Laser Dragon. Its ability will destroy his Sword Hunter, and then I'll-

"Hey, loser! Just go already!" an angry voice jeered from the crowd behind him. Ryo cringed and clenched his teeth, trying not to lose focus as dozens more echoed the man's sentiments.

"Yeah! We all know your cards aren't worth crap, so why don't you just give up?" another shouted.

"Well, Marufuji?" Mori taunted. "Ready to lose yet another duel?"

Ryo felt heat creep into his cheeks and he didn't dare take his eyes off his cards. He knew he had a winning move. If he could just keep from getting distracted, he could pull it off, and then people would leave him alone. Maybe they would even start cheering for him again. Yes, he thought, running the move through his head again. He just had to summon his Cyber Dragon and then-

But that thought was immediately lost as something heavy connected with the back of his head, splashing cold fluid all over him, dripping down his neck and hair and staining his white uniform. He whipped around and kicked the empty drink container to the side in frustration, trying hard to ignore the shouts of laughter encircling him.

Sometimes losing a duel in a Pro League arena felt like being trapped in a cage at the circus.

He turned back to his cards. He'd show them. Now he just had to…what had he just been about to do? He bit his lip and stared hard at his cards, trying to regain his train of thought. Something about a Cyber Dragon and...and…he could barely hear himself think over the roar of the crowd and knew he had to do something fast. In the Pro Leagues, you could be disqualified if you took too long to make a move, and he did not want that to happen again.

He held up his card, not as high as he used to. "I sacrifice my Cyber Giraffe to summon my Cyber Dragon." The crowd booed even louder as his monster shimmered to life on the field. "And then…I guess I end my turn."

"You idiot!" someone sneered. "He'll wipe that Cyber Dragon off the field with one blast."

"You bet I will." Mori grinned and waved to the crowd before pointing at Ryo. "Sword Hunter, attack!" Ryo cursed himself for his carelessness. How could he have forgotten that Sword Hunter had higher attack points than both his Cyber Dragons? As soon as his life points hit zero, he shoved his deck in his pocket and made a silent retreat out of the arena before the loss was even announced. He forced himself not to look at the hundreds of people flipping him off and calling him a failure. A loser. A has-been. A nobody. Unfortunately he also didn't see the trash being thrown at him either, so by the time he finally made it out of the packed arena, his uniform had a few more stains on it.

I don't understand. Why can't I duel like I used to? Why am I losing every single match since Edo Phoenix? That was how he measured his life now: before and after Edo Phoenix. Before Edo Phoenix, he'd always known exactly what to do no matter what his opponents threw at him. After Edo Phoenix he found himself questioning and second-guessing every move. In hindsight, he should have realized that graduating valedictorian at the world's top dueling academia didn't guarantee he'd never lose. Still, he couldn't help but think that maybe he wasn't cut out for the pro leagues at all.

The walk home was always long, especially after he'd been forced to move into a cheaper apartment. Everywhere he looked, he was surrounded by tabloids, reporters, cameras, replays on shop TVs of his duels, and disgusted spectators who at one time had loved and adored him. Some people even made a point of crossing the street when they saw him coming.

On nights like this, he always felt like he had a fist in his chest, like someone was squeezing his heart too tightly and was refusing to let go. His eyes would sting and his nose would suddenly get runny. Sometimes his vision blurred a little bit and he'd have to shut his eyes tightly and open them repeatedly to clear it. This illness, or whatever it was, had gotten more and more frequent over the past couple of weeks. For some reason it was worse this night than usual. When a passerby roughly pushed him aside, muttering "loser," he felt the fist tighten in his chest and he had to stop to sniff and blink several times.

When he finally made it back home, he felt a tap on his shoulder just before he entered his apartment. He turned around slowly and faced his landlord, who looked tired.

"There you are. I've been waiting for you to come back so I could talk to you."

"I'm sorry," Ryo said with no emotion. "Is something wrong?"

The landlord ran a hand through his graying hair, looking a little taken aback at hearing Ryo speak so quietly. "Look, kid. You haven't paid rent for two months now."

"I know." He'd already been saying this for weeks, but still he repeated, "I'm just a little short now since one of my sponsors quit."

"I saw your duel tonight, kid. Would you care to explain how you plan to get that money?"

The fist in his chest squeezed harder. "I'm sorry, sir. I have another one on Tuesday-"

"I don't want to hear that anymore," The landlord raised his voice a bit and rolled his eyes. "The way things are going, it sounds like there may not even be a next duel. Bottom line: pay everything you owe by the end of the month or you're out of here. Got it?"

"Yes sir," Ryo whispered, his voice slightly shaking. As the landlord turned to leave, mumbling angrily to himself, he noticed his lips were quivering and his eyes felt watery.

I probably just need some sleep, he thought, and unlocked the door to his dingy apartment, pushing it open slowly.

"Hey there," a familiar voice called softly. Ryo jumped at the noise.

"Who's there?" he demanded, his voice shaking.

"It's me, Fubuki." Confused, Ryo flipped on the light and turned to see the voice was indeed Fubuki, who grunted and shielded his eyes at the sudden change in lighting. He was stretched out on Ryo's bed and had just laid aside his ukulele. He was smiling too, and Ryo wondered if he had seen his duel. Probably not, since Ryo had been forced to sell his television a while ago.

"What are you doing here?" He didn't even bother asking how Fubuki had managed to get into his locked apartment. During their first year at the academia, his friend had snuck into several people's rooms, boys and girls alike. And it didn't help that security in his new neighborhood was a joke.

"I was taking a trip to the mainland to do some shopping and whatnot, and I thought I'd drop in and see you. Didn't expect your place to be so small." Ryo normally would have glared, but all he could think was, It was nice and spacious before Edo Phoenix. "I came by earlier, but you weren't here. Where have you been all day?"

Ryo set down his keys and duel disk on the desk without looking at Fubuki. "I was out." Actually he'd been dealing with sponsors and agents who no longer wanted anything to do with him and were publicly denying having ever supported him in the first place. He sniffed again and rubbed his eyes.

"Hey, are you okay?" Fubuki asked, sounding worried.

"I'm fine," Ryo answered a little too quickly. "Listen, I didn't exactly know you were coming, but if you don't have a place to stay I can sleep on the couch."

"Thanks, but you don't have to give up your bed; the couch is fine for me." He studied Ryo intently, and Ryo turned his face away to look out the window. "Ryo, are you sure you're okay? You look like you've been crying." He got up from where he'd been sitting on the bed and walked closer to Ryo, gently cupping his cheek. For once his brown eyes were worried and sympathetic instead of bright and cheerful.

"What?" Ryo asked, startled. "No, I haven't been crying."

"Well, your eyes are all red and puffy and you sound really sad." He put his arm around Ryo. "If something's wrong, you can tell me. What else are buddies for?"

"I haven't been crying," Ryo insisted. "I'm just tired; I want to go to bed."

"If you say so," Fubuki said, though he didn't sound convinced. "I just need to change clothes and then I'll hit the hay with you." He grabbed a bag from the corner and shut the door to Ryo's bathroom. Ryo pulled off his white uniform, black turtleneck, and black pants, tossed them into a pile on the floor- he was too tired to put them in the hamper- and changed into a black T-shirt and lounge pants. He climbed into bed and curled up under the blankets, almost in a fetal position. He really hoped the fist in his chest and the sting in his eyes would be gone by morning.

The bathroom door opened and Fubuki walked out in his Hawaiian pajamas. He started to turn out the light. "Good night, Ryo- whoa, what happened to your uniform?"

"What about it?"

"There's stains all over it. And it reeks. What the heck did you eat? You never get a drop of food on anything."

Ryo didn't answer. His eyes were beginning to feel watery again and he could feel a lump forming in his throat.

"Ryo?" There was the sound of someone moving around, and then the mattress dipped slightly as Fubuki slowly lay down next to Ryo, snaking his arms around him and pulling him closer. "Ryo, what's wrong?" His voice was unusually gentle.

"Nothing, leave me alone," Ryo insisted, but his voice cracked. Ryo's voice never cracked.

Suddenly his eyes were wetter than ever and he was trembling. Fubuki shifted so he was facing Ryo and pulled him closer, forcing him to make eye contact.

"Ryo, stop," he whispered firmly.

"Stop what?" Ryo whimpered in frustration.

"Stop trying to choke it all back. Just let go. You can cry. It's okay."

Cry? Ryo blinked, puzzled. He didn't cry. Marufuji Ryo never cried. Not even as a child. Not even when Fubuki disappeared. He kept his feelings to himself. Crying was something that girls did. Crying was for people like Shou who wore their hearts on their sleeves. People like Ryo did not cry.

Fubuki didn't seem to understand this. He gently pressed Ryo's head against his chest and rubbed his back. "I mean it. Don't try to keep everything bottled up anymore, it's not healthy. Just cry."

Ryo sighed and clutched Fubuki's arms as he felt the first few tears begin to fall. His shoulders bucked up and down against his will and a sob escaped his throat. Fubuki's arms tightened around him, and from that point on there was no resistance. Big, salty tears that had long been pent-up finally ran free down Ryo's cheeks, and once they started, they refused to be stopped. Every time Ryo tried to breathe deeply and regain control, more tears would escape and the cycle would start all over again.

Crying hurt like hell. Ryo's body wracked with sobs, and, though he tried hard, he couldn't suppress the moans and occasional hiccups that followed. He hated the pain and he hated looking like a child and he hated that Fubuki was seeing him like this and he hated Edo Phoenix and he hated himself and he hated this whole situation.

I shouldn't be getting this upset. Just because he'd lost a few duels and had been called a few names by people he didn't even know was no reason to feel this way. He was the Kaiser, he didn't care if people threw trash at him or pushed him around. As long as he kept his respect, he could still win duels and turn everything around.

He wanted to think that. But he just wasn't sure. And it was this uncertainty that was killing him, that scared him. Not knowing whether he would ever be able to salvage what was left of his dueling career or even pay his rent before the landlord kicked him out.

Fubuki's hands were never still; stroking Ryo's hair, rubbing his back, wiping away tears, caressing his cheek and hands. Eventually the sobs grew quieter until they ceased. When at last the fist in Ryo's chest was gone, the entire front of Fubuki's shirt was wet with tears and snot. But he didn't care, he just kept holding his friend and murmuring soothing words in a low voice. Ryo tentatively hugged him back and rested his head against his chest, finding comfort in hearing the gentle beats of his heart.

Fubuki put his hand on his cheek. "Ryo?" He looked deeply into his eyes. "You are not a loser. Remember that, okay? I don't care how many people say otherwise. You're not a loser. Never have been, never will be."

Ryo buried his face into Fubuki's neck and tried to keep the waterworks from starting all over again. He hadn't realized how much he'd needed to hear that, but now that he had it was like a rock had been lifted off his shoulders. He exhaled slowly as his hands relaxed and lay limply at his sides and his eyes, bloodshot and puffy, began to glaze over and close as his head sank into the pillow. Fubuki pulled the covers over his shoulders and lay down beside him.

"Fubuki?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He snuggled next to his friend. "You'll always be a winner where I'm concerned."