He loved him, he'd always loved him. It was simple yet messed up and he knew it. His friends called it Stockholm syndrome, he refused to accept it. He didn't want his feelings, how he loved him to be written off as some mental problem. He wouldn't admit it but they were right. He loved his capture, his torturer, the evil soul that shared his body for so long. He'd loved him the whole time, guarded it well and kept his secret hidden. For that time he was useful, he felt needed, wanted. His love needed a host to survive, he needed his body to carry out his deeds, even if his soul wasn't needed, he was of some use. Now the other has a body and he'd outlived his usefulness.
Ryou looked at the Millennium Ring, he held it in his hands, playing with the little spikes, which had so many times dug into his flesh. He lifted the ring and kissed the metal gently, sighing softly. Bakura was no longer within it, he had his own body yet Ryou still wore the ancient item. He told his friends it was since his father gave it to him, however it really made him feel close to Bakura still. Glancing to the door of his room, closed, with his dresser moved to block it, stop anyone from getting in, of course unless they barged the door in. Looking away he put the cord holding the ring back around his neck. It fell on his bare chest, he'd removed his shirt, sitting in just his trousers on his bed.
He was thin, thinner than before, when Bakura was sharing his body with him, Ryou made sure to eat properly when he had control. Now he just didn't have the energy. It'd been a week since he'd gone to school or eaten anything. No one had come to check on him. Not his friends, not his darker half. No one, they just let him spend the week shut away in his room. They didn't care he decided. His friends forgot him so easy despite saying they cared and of course Bakura didn't care.
He remember people saying they cared, they'd always be there for him. He remembered Yugi swearing that he'd help Ryou and that he'd be his friend and not let Bakura stop him and he didn't bother to check on him, even with a week away. Malik wasn't much different, he'd said he'd stick by Ryou, both having twisted, evil darker halves, he said he'd protect Ryou even though Malik himself was wrong in the head. Ryou had foolishly believed them, all they had said and now he could see they were all lies, he had no one.
Bakura had been right, they didn't really care, they'd leave him, forget him, just like everyone else. Bakura was the only one who had ever needed him, the only one who ever stayed at his side, only because he had no choice but he had needed Ryou and that was enough then, now he wasn't needed.
Ryou laid back and sighed his fingers raising to trace the ring on his chest and let out a quiet sob. What had he ever done to deserve this, what did he do so wrong that he ended up falling in love with someone who hated him. He remember every harsh word Bakura had growled, yelled or screamed at him. He didn't want Ryou around, he hated Ryou. He would never love him back.
Rolling over Ryou looked at the dagger on the bedside, he'd taken it from Bakura's room whilst he was out with Marik, he spent most of his time with Malik's darker half. He reached out, his fingers closing around the ornate hilt and pulled it over to him, his hands trembling as he rolled back onto his back. Over the past week he'd brought the dagger to his flesh many times but each time his hands would shake, he would sob through it, he wouldn't feel better after but he wouldn't feel worse, he would just feel and in the end that's what he wanted, to feel something other than the numb feeling left by being hated by Bakura.
He held the dagger up above him, looking at his arms, scared and cut, scabbed over cuts crossed over raised scars. The scars weren't his doing, some were Bakura's abuse in the past. His eyes trailed down over his arms to his chest, equally scared from Bakura, he knew his back was too, the most obvious scars were from the ring digging into his skin, having been done so many times his skin was raised, scared from it. There were less fresh wounds on his stomach, just one word etched over his heart that he'd done himself and kept re-opening it 'Bakura' he'd done that the first time Bakura disappeared for a week after having his own body. He lowered the dagger, hands shaking and re-opened the letters again, watching morbidly as the blood gathered at the top of Bakura's name, when enough formed in a bead of blood it ran off over his chest to drip onto the once blue blanket below him. Now it was stained with his blood in so many places.
With the name cut into him once again, stinging, feeling he laid the dagger on his stomach, shuddering at the feel of the cold metal. He closed his eyes, his head tilted up to the ceiling and sighed. He wanted to end the pain. He wanted to not be so lost, in so much pain, to not have Bakura on his mind all the time.
Subconsciously his fingers wrapped back around the hilt of the dagger again.
He wanted Bakura to be happy, he wasn't happy with Ryou around, he was a burden, a pain, a waste of space, useless and foolish, all words that Bakura called him so often. He felt tears welling up in his eyes as his fingers tightened on the dagger. Bakura wanted him gone, he didn't want to have to deal with Ryou anymore, something Ryou knew all too well. Ryou couldn't leave like the other wanted, it'd hurt too much and he'd come back, he needed to be at Bakura's side. He couldn't survive away from him even if Bakura didn't want the one who used to be his host with him. He couldn't survive away from him… Ryou felt the tears roll down his cheek, falling onto the bed and his hair.
Ryou wanted what Bakura wanted. Bakura wanted Ryou gone from his side forever. Ryou couldn't live and leave, he'd come back, he knew he'd tried it before. Bakura wanted Ryou gone and there was only one way for Ryou to give Bakura what he wanted. He opened his eyes, his sight blurry with tears he raised the dagger he hadn't realised he was holding and his hands were shaking. "Bakura…" he whispered despite the other not being able to hear him, not any more. Never again. He'd give Bakura what he wanted, Ryou gone.
He closed his eyes tight letting out one last broken song before he plunged his arms down. The dagger broke the skin of his stomach easily. Sunk into his flesh. His eyes snapped open. He yelled out in pain and sobbed. His fingers tightly grasped around the dagger. He knew he had longer if he left the dagger in, his time would be shortened if he pulled it out. He shakily went to pull it out stopping when he heard banging on his door. Confused, scared, he bite his lip trying to keep quiet. Whoever it was could try to save him, he didn't want that. Sharply he pulled the dagger from his stomach but couldn't stop the pained yelp and dropped it onto his stomach again his hands falling to his sides.
"I love you Bakura…" he said quietly, his voice broken and hard to get out, as he let his eyes slip closed and hoped it would end before whoever was out there got in. "Please let me die for him…" he sobbed out.