One of my earlier stories, I'm not too sure what to think of this. I like it well enough, but I'm not too sure about the modifications I've made and the way I portrayed people. Ah well, enjoy and please review!

No...it's a one shot.

Disclaimer: ...I DON'T OWN IT. .

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Most people just see them as what they're called, jigsaw puzzles, a whole bunch of pieces that fit together in specific ways until they form a certain shape and a picture. Some people wonder if that's what life could be considered as, merely a huge jigsaw puzzle with an unclear picture until they finish putting the pieces together. Then things began to start becoming clear and they are whole, but what happens when the pieces shatter into awkward shapes and shards, how easy it is then, could you keep solving puzzles when you yourself are not whole?

Consider that and please think as you continue as this is the story of one such person whose life turned into a broken puzzle and struggled to find the picture and to put the puzzle pieces together. His name was, no is, Ryou Bakura.

He used to adore jigsaw puzzles, fairly worshipped them in his free time, playing alone until he was almost a master at putting those puzzles together, his mind analytical and quick. There was no way to describe it when they asked the poor boy, the thrill he felt when he found that another piece matched up with another until the whole things had been matched, and he was finally done and there was a picture on the table in front of him, just like he'd seen on the puzzle box. It was just, how would you say…exhilarating.

Of course, if he asked where this obsession started with, he'd have only been able to answer with the simple answer of his father. His father had always been going to different places and he would get presents for the whole family, mostly jewelry for his mother, books for Ryou, and for Amane who had befuddled his father, puzzles. This had been his father's idea of a present, a ridiculously hard puzzle for Amane which turned into a present for the whole family in which his mother and sister would give up and leave it up to him to finish. He didn't mind at all though, it was all too much fun, figuring it out and his mother and Amane would praise him for it. Of course, this had all been before…the accident.

Before the accident, before Amane and mother had been run over by that car, he'd been working on making a puzzle of his own, and so he hadn't gone to the market with them. When that had happened though, he'd taken apart all of his prized jigsaws and put them back in their respective boxes before ripping up his own puzzle; after all, he had no more use for the silly things, all he needed to do with those things was lock the past behind him. Of course, this was the first break in his soul, the first piece to go in his own puzzle.

And it was there where his soul first began to break, just one piece that shattered first and changed his whole life.

His father had left the world that contained his former wife and daughter behind him completely as well choosing never to look upon which he had loved again, boarding up the rooms of his beloved wife and daughter, leaving his son behind in Japan as he threw himself into his work, the only thing that had yet to disappear. Surprisingly enough Ryou adjusted, though the pain was there, of losing his whole family, if not physically, spiritually and he also tried not to look at the past that haunted him so. However soon the lure of puzzles began to haunt him again, and like a rubber ball, it came back, but instead of submitting, he started to play role playing games, it made the ache for the past and puzzles less potent and the memories didn't hurt as much.

However, he was soon forced to lock that away due to the strange circumstances coming from the times that he blanked out and it was back to puzzles for him; he was going to be able to quench his thirst again, though not in the traditional sense. The puzzle he was allowed to solve was the Puzzle of the Pharaoh and the others, and he soon realized what it was that made things so strange.

Two more cracks making deep fissures in his soul yet again. One because he could no longer play a game that he had so adored, the other one because of the spiritual loss of all that remained of his family. .

He found then that he had another soul coming from the dream catcher like ring, one that was everything he was not, strong, bold, witty, self confident, everything he could have been but was not. He dared to hope then, that not everything was as bad as it seemed, that everything would eventually be alright. After all, this had come from his father, right? So that didn't mean he was abandoned, his father really did care and now he had someone else to be there with him, even if he met with bullies at school, people that tried to break him and succeeded, with words and fists. But he had hope again and that was enough for him.

And he dared to hope that his soul would begin to mend and that he wouldn't be broken anymore, despite the many other breaks in his soul and he hung on with everything he had. He shouldn't have hoped though, for fate is rarely if not never that kind.

Bakura had his own agenda to fulfill, and it had nothing to do with Ryou's wants, needs, or cares, he would do what he wanted, and what he would do was to interfere with the Pharaoh and Yugi. Ryou unwittingly helped the others, only following with his mind, as his heart seemed to be taking a while in the repair shop. However, no matter how much he felt that he wanted to be friends with Bakura, he had to keep up the façade of being a friend to the Pharaoh, though he knew it was not altogether mutual.

Of course, all things eventually came to an end and he soon had to part ways with the Yugi as well as the others because…well, he was just too strange for such things, especially because of Bakura, he couldn't risk Bakura's loss again, every time they did, he became lost again, the falsehood just wasn't worth that much, wasn't worth the pain.

And there were, one, two, three, four, no, five times that he felt his soul crack again due to the loss of his other half; it was ridiculous to believe that they would not do it again and he could not risk shattering his soul again.

Then there had been the attack, when his father had been coming home for Christmas-at last, for the first time in many years- on his way to the airport, he'd been caught in the crossfire of two different gangs, and he had died, leaving Ryou all alone in the world, but for his Yami. His father may have returned to his wife and daughter, but Ryou would not follow them, suffering in their stead and allowing himself to suffer what they had not when they had lived on earth; loneliness.

He'd burned the puzzles after that, his intent clear in his mind that he was to never play them again, No matter how he'd memorized them, he could never solve them again, his fingers growing clumsy as he tried to fit them in and he dropped them; he tried to fit the wrong things together. No, puzzles were different than he'd originally thought; they weren't always just fun and games, they could be a part of life..

The last crack was formed now, his soul completely shattered. There was just so much that a soul could take on their own before they broke and it was not to be forgotten that he was also known to be a half of a soul which made it that much harder.

One for an unfair death of both mother and sister

One for unwanted spiritual loss of a Father

One because of the maddening ban of a game that haunted him

Many more for the insults from the world

Once more because of the pain he'd been caused by the hand of Bakura, however unconsciously it may have been


Five more from the times that the other part of his soul faded away, haunted by the shadow realm

Once more, once more when the last of family was gone


Then the rest of it came shattering down with that last pillar of support crumbling…into shards

Ryou didn't come out of his soul room after that, allowing Bakura to have complete and uncontested control; he didn't want to live with himself anymore after losing everything. Eventually the inevitable came with his lack of care; he began to fade away, his soft and gentle doe brown eyes becoming dull and listless, his already pale skin becoming pasty and losing its healthy glow, and his hair turning matted and stringy. He wasn't as alive as he could be anymore as he had given up on fighting for survival; he was ready to go. He was clearly dead or at least dying in a living body; he could only hope that it wouldn't be too long before he went to join his family.

Things didn't work out like he wanted it to though surprisingly, and he found Bakura coming in, breaking down his numerous desperately crafted defenses angrily, striding in like a god itself, glowing with cold fury and self righteousness, finally fed up with Ryou and the way he allowed himself to die away like this, the reason that had been why he called him weak. He had no right at all in the darkness's mind, he could still become stronger, he was not alone like he'd been, what right had this little brat have to be depressed. He strode towards Ryou briskly and brought him up by the collar, hating more and more, each time he saw the boy's deadening eyes, his rage becoming anew. "Stand up." Bakura rasped, growling from deep inside his throat as he gazed at Ryou through hateful and crimson eyes. Ryou continued to hang off of Bakura's hand limply, his expression dead and grieving, not seeming to care about the pain, about the vehemence emanating off of Bakura and seemingly oblivious of all that was going on. "Stand up." An order, one that Ryou either could not or would not listen to, no matter how much he respected or cared for Bakura, it was no longer worth listening in his mind; why wouldn't they just leave him alone, alone to die and fade into the nothingness he so longed for? "Stand up on your own." Bakura snarled, his lips twisted angrily and he dropped-no, flung- the British boy away from him, onto the ground, where the defeated boy merely slid down, his knees hitting the ground and he flopped back, weakly, staring at the ground with the same dead expression on his face, and he didn't get back up, much to the older boy's dissatisfaction, only slumping to the floor.

Bakura growled in frustration, his expression terrible to behold, but Ryou saw none of this, only seeing the floor and his own misery. "I won't have it any more you pitiful creature, you are weaker than even I'd thought damn it! I will not have my pathetic light known only for being such a wretched fool, I will not have it; do you understand me? WAKE, UP!" He grasped Ryou's collar again with both hands and slammed him against the wall fiercely, pushing him up against it furiously, his face so close that Ryou could feel his hot breath and hear the ragged emotion behind his sudden anger and most of all he could feel the wall behind him vibrating after Bakura slammed his clenched fist into the wall behind him with a resounding thump, his whole body tense and shaking with the rage and the fury coursing through his body.

"Wake up weakling, and welcome to the real world; you won't always have someone to pick you up and wipe your tears for you, you have to learn to stand up yourself!" Bakura looked half mad, his countenance stiff and shaking as he held Ryou there, but this was lost on him, as Ryou's head lolled onto his shoulder. Bakura would have none of this though, he came closer and with his free hand, grasped his chin and forced him to look at him, look back into the intense gaze. "LOOK AT ME DAMN YOU, YOU ARE NOT ABOVE PERFECTION YOURSELF, WAKE UP AND FACE THE WORLD LIKE A MAN INSTEAD OF THE WEAKLING YOU'RE ALLOWING YOURSELF TO BE!" Ryou gazed at him slowly, dead eyes looking back, and Bakura refused to look away, staring straight back into those dying eyes so devoid of life with eyes that showed passion and life that the other did not before resting his forehead against Ryou's, and they stayed that way, eyes staring into eyes, waiting for one of them to break first. The dying look of death in the smaller boy's face was being confronted by the passionate and furious crimson eyes of his more powerful yami, and in the face of death and life, it was near impossible to keep from cracking. Ryou didn't believe he was strong and he broke after several moments, dying eyes misting over with tears until he was blinking away hot and heavy tears and only then did Bakura let go of his chin, allowing Ryou to rest his face against Bakura's chest, digging his face into the warm folds of cloth and gripping his arms with a tight vice like grip. Almost a child again, Ryou began to weep against Bakura's chest, tears soaking through, hot and steaming, just to cool down moments later and leave a damp spot on Bakura's chest, but he didn't say anything about it as Ryou bawled out his pain and sorrow, his sobs muffled in the depths of Bakura's shirt, and awkwardly, Bakura let him, not encouraging it, but not forcing him away either.

"It is not yet your place to die, little landlord, it is not nearly time for you to leave the world and depart to the afterworld, it's not nearly your time to follow your family." There was no answer from the recipient and he looked towards the sky awkwardly before speaking again. "You never had to try to be strong by yourself Ryou; you never had to be alone if you didn't want to and you would have seen that. If you wanted to be noticed that badly and wanted to be with someone, all you had to do was ask the ones you cared for" Bakura sounded exasperated and frustrated and Ryou snuffled slightly, his eyes red and puffy, face bruised before he looked up again asking a question which could make him again.

"What do you want me to do?" Ryou asked in a quiet and muffled voice, just barely heard over the tremendous and thundering pounding of their hearts, beating together, just another sign of their eternal unification. Bakura looked down at the shock of white hair nestled in the crook of his neck and spoke to the boy, his voice ragged and exhausted, the rage gone but not the strength behind it.

"What would I have you do Ryou…?" Bakura's crimson eyed gaze faltered for a moment as he looked around the soul room before speaking again, strongly again. "I want you to pick up the pieces of your soul Ryou…and I want you to put them together."

Unresisting, Ryou moved away from him, staring at the ground of his soul room, where the sharp pieces of his soul lay, jagged and in no particular order and fell to his knees to begin. Ryou picked up a piece and continually tried to match it; but no matter what he did, his hands continually slipped and the pieces fell and he couldn't even put a piece together. Ryou stared down brokenly, despair lingering in his eyes and he held back desolate tears as he continued to try and failed when a strong hand gripped his wrist in his own and Bakura knelt down next to him; with a purpose in his crimson eyes, Bakura silently guided Ryou's hands until two pieces finally matched.

Two pieces of a soul, picking up the pieces of one half's heart, that is how you would have to describe the scene going on in front of them. Piece by piece, together they were putting his life back in order so that he could keep going…

For when the soul is so shattered, it is impossible to put everything in order by oneself again

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Eh heh...heh. Review? I might just make this a whole bunch of random one shots...