A/N: A quick drabble for a friend, as well as something I had to get out. It's not much, and I'll be revising it later when my mind is clear.
He waited in the cold dark, skin sticking to the hard stone beneath him. His face veiled by hair, patiently awaiting the outcome of the battle. On this, he felt conflicted. Distant rumbles of grand speeches rang through his ears as he listened from within his mind. It tore shreds to his will, collapsing his perfectly built wall of ignorance. He would mourn quietly, in the back of his mind, sometimes openly as he snapped at his other self, asking him why he would do this. Ryou thought that, maybe, in a past life, he had been horrible. A terrible tyrant of a man that was wreaking havoc on his current conscious; this was his price. Maybe he was over-thinking, and his life was not as grandeur —in the sense of adventure— that he had originally thought. This was his strange reality. And even so, he did not mind it in a sense. No, not at all. It was painful, but his parasite was there. Would always be there, as he had promised valiantly, sealing it with a kiss. If so, what of his friends? His brave, obnoxious friends that he loved so much. Their role was much more difficult to decipher.
Closing his eyes, Ryou wished to become one with the floor, to melt until nothing but a white, pasty liquid remained. To disappear into his other self, blocking out difficult decisions and the false kindness of others. But then, what if, instead his friends prevailed and his ghost was to fade? The thought pained him. A deep ache, buried within layers of tissue and muscles. Oh, but he wouldn't. He was far too stubborn.
It was all his fault, though, Ryou reasoned with himself. It was he who ripped the line between good and evil, tearing it to shreds and whirling the boy's conscious into oblivion, opening a world of harsh colour and rugged, tired faces. It was he. . .who changed Ryou. He bargained it was for the worse, but silently hoped for the best.
Ryou's mind became fuzzy, nestling quietly into haze as though a cloud. He reminded himself, though, that when he woke up, Bakura was getting an earful for shutting him out during the battle that outlined such passionate claims. The spirit would probably laugh, and kiss his cheek, muttering on about how stupid Ryou could be.
A thick, white light seeped into his vision, causing him to squint and groan. On shaking legs, Ryou attempted to stand, only to stumble down a stair. He tried again, with more force this time, clinging to the wall and making his way downward. However, he slowly realised one thing in his struggle.
It was completely silent.
