Merry Christmas, Chy. Here's your Bakura/Ryou drabble… sorry that it's not very shippy. XD;
"Ah..."
It never got any easier or any less jarring.
For Ryou, it didn't feel like any time had passed at all, but it was impossible to argue with the sky – the sky which, seemingly only moments ago, had been bright blue, yet was now streaked with vibrant shades of yellow and orange. The last rays of the setting sun were peeking out above the horizon, betraying the hours that had passed, and Ryou knew without a doubt that he'd blacked out again.
Usually he would just take a deep breath, steel himself, and get on with his life. He'd long since accepted that there was nothing he could do about it, because he'd tried and he'd failed, but the school week had been particularly harrowing and Ryou found he couldn't just move on like nothing had happened.
"What did you make me do this time?"
Of course, there was no answer. Ryou clenched his fists and captured his bottom lip between his teeth. He knew his other self had to have heard him; he was so watchful, never missing a thing, and so the only explanation was that he was ignoring him on purpose. It wasn't unlikely that he enjoyed Ryou's anxiety, leaving him unaware of what he'd been doing with his body for the several hours. He seemed to take a perverse pleasure in Ryou's suffering.
'Oh? Such unkind thoughts. Don't be like that, host-sama.'
Ryou jumped almost a foot in the air. He'd been convinced he wouldn't be hearing from his other self tonight, and so the sudden voice startled him.
"What did you make me do?" He repeated his question, in no mood to play the spirit's games.
The familiar derisive cackle sounded in his head, and Ryou felt a pang of fear go through him. He was well aware of what his other self was capable of. It wasn't uncommon for him to have blackouts that lasted for days on end, and when he became conscious of the world again, all kinds of horrible things had happened.
"Nothing you have to worry about. You needn't concern yourself with what I do while you're sleeping."
"How can I not? You could've hurt someone... killed someone!" Ryou emptied the air from his lungs in a deep sigh. "You have a habit of messing up my life. I worry 24/7."
He received another short bark of laughter in response.
"As I said, it's no concern of yours."
Ryou felt his lip curling in frustration. "You're the worst."
"You're welcome."
The smugness in his voice would've been enough to make even the most gentle, mild-mannered person want to punch him, had the spirit had a corporeal body of his own.
"I just..." Ryou stopped midsentence and then went limp as all his strength left him.
Grin and bear it. There was nothing else he could do, especially when he wasn't willing to part with his ring – though he doubted he'd have the choice of getting rid of it, even if he'd wanted – and the spirit came as a kind of package deal.
"I don't see why you need to fret so much. I would never let any real harm come to my precious host. I don't plan to leave you any time soon."
His laughter rung in Ryou's ears, then faded out, and Ryou knew he'd been left on his lonesome for now.
After the whole exchange, he didn't feel like doing anything, but his stomach told him he hadn't eaten since the last time he'd been in control, and so he half-heartedly set about fixing himself dinner.
The spirit was so frustrating, and despite all the time that had passed since they'd first become able to communicate with one another, he was still a mystery to Ryou.
But one thing was true; despite all his worries, one thing he never feared for was his own life. He understood good and well that, to the spirit, he meant nothing as a person, while his body as a vessel meant everything. But still. People couldn't get away with laying a finger on him without answering to his other self – sometimes even aggressive words were enough to set him off. And whenever things got really bad, when Ryou thought that maybe it was all over, the spirit would be there in front of him, ready to take the blows in his stead.
And as much as Ryou feared him, loathed him, wished him gone… he wasn't sure, but he thought maybe there was something to that.