Their relationship was an odd one, probably belonging in the Guinness Book of World Records—the World's Most Reluctant Item.
Even though Ryou was the one with the terminal heart problem, Edo was the object of his worry. Ryou never quite felt Edo there even when he kissed him, touched him, pushed him on the couch and then on the floor, possessing the driving need to be in control, pounding him hard and senseless—but even then, he couldn't obliterate the shadow haunting Edo's mind.
Ryou never voiced his worries. He could have lifted Edo from this depression with just a single hug, a few consoling words, an intimacy that wasn't linked with hungry kisses or fucking, because that was what Edo really lacks—not love from a lover, but the love of a parent. Yet, Hell Kaiser was a sealed vessel of emotions and far too stubborn to admit he was actually worried about the silver-haired protege.
They had only traveled together because there was power in numbers and they shared the same destination point. Edo was concerned about Juudai's welfare and Ryou wanted a final duel before his heart was put on permanent hold. But they didn't know this. When asked of the reasons that dictated their actions by the other, there was shrugging and Ryou muttering something about wanting to crush Johan. So much for trust.
"If I was about to kick the bucket, would you protect me?" Edo asked the glorious, but surely dying king of the underground one night when it was his turn to guard watch. He made no effort to initiate eye contact with the poker-faced Hell Kaiser who barely did so much as glance in his direction.
A beat.
"…maybe," was his only reply. Impassive. Just like him.
Black, white, blue…
In the end, colors were simply pigments soaked in his clothing. It didn't matter whether it was the soft cotton uniform of Duel Academia brushing against his skin or the slick, tight leather of his dark getup sticking to his torso. For Kaiser, Hell Kaiser… they were simple titles, labels to publicize himself to the media as the ruthless dictator of the dueling world.
But colors and titles couldn't define him, couldn't rearrange him—couldn't change the fact that underneath the black eyeliner and liquid ice indifference, he was still a human being with a beating heart and a repertoire of emotions. And as a human, no matter how callous some humans could be, Ryou was still vulnerable enough to feel some twisted emotion in the pit of his stomach upon watching Edo Phoenix die.
Juudai, Chronos, Shou, Ojama Yellow… They probably labeled him unsympathetic to the whole situation since he hadn't taken part of their mourning circle. After all, what was one guy's life to the cold-blooded Hell Kaiser? Plus, he hated Edo too, didn't he? For ruining his career as a Pro-League duelist and all. Edo was what prompted Kaiser's sanity to spiral down in the first place.
Amon had come by recently, riding on Exodia's muscular shoulder like an emperor on a royal throne. He spared Ryou a smirk.
It wasn't so much that Ryou - Kaiser - Hell Kaiser felt guilty that Edo died, but moreover that he felt guilty that he let himself be saved by Edo's selflessness. Of all the things in this universe…
Never, in a single moment of his life, had Ryou ever found a spark of fear in his heart towards death. He was the stronger one, wasn't he? Physically, and even emotionally—
So then—
Why—
Edo.
…
Why did he have to die?