Ryou grew bored of things quickly. Every new deck he built could only amuse him for so long before it would be taken apart and a new one would take its place. Every monster world figurine polished, painted and put on a shelf never to be touched again. Every favorite food grew bland and tasteless the more he ate it.
Yes, Ryou had quite a dilemma. As much as he liked constant things, if he were to try to cling to them he would most certainly completely loose his mind to the dullness. Thus he needed to continue changing aspects of his life. The games he played, the way his apartment was set up, the wording of his letters to his dear sister. Everything had to change.
Somewhere deep down Ryou had a sick delight in his black-outs
It was an adventure, something new, something he'd have to ward off his boredom. Something that just maybe he wouldn't lose interest in. Every time he woke up it was like some kind of twisted present. A surprise wrapped in pain and blood.
What had he done this time
What would Ryou clean up? What looks of fear, distrust, and plain hate would follow him as he walked down the street.
He hated the spirit. He did. But he loved the fact that his life had become so beautifully unpredictable. One by one his presents became even better. Battle scars of being used, bandages dyed red and no recollection of ever being sliced up. Foggy images of pretty lavender eyes, tan skin, and pitch black Kohl.
His black-outs went on and soon the fresh taste of danger was what he was greeted with when he awoke. He remembered the paralyzing kohl-lined purple differently. The last time he'd seen it, it held less malice. Less sick amusement, that, to this day makes Ryou's stomach churn painfully.
Words were spoken with honey that suggested its sweetness was due to a more poisonous factor, "They didn't drag you with them."
He felt light, airy; surprised the wind atop the blimp didn't just drag him away. He knew he'd been inside not long before, yet here he was, on his knees looking up at a dark looming figure. He felt as if he wasn't really there at all.
No fear registered in his blank mind. Though a shiver of excitement ran up his spin when the twisted, bordering on psychotic, grin was shot down at him, "They left their poor little kitten all alone"
"I'm not…" He hadn't realized the words had left him mouth until it was too late. Ryou's transparent hand shot out, trying to grip at the man's purple cape.
"Not what?" A smirk played on his face, thoroughly amused at the albino's attempts to grab his cloak. The boy couldn't have been used to being without a body
"I'm not…" He clutched at the last bit of his train of thought feeling oddly lost and numb in his situation, "I'm not alone. You're here."
"So I am." That grin again. Dangerous and sharp and full of promises dunked in cyanide.
Ryou loved it.
Everything about this man was unpredictable, cruel, exciting, the list could go on. Ryou was fascinated, if this man was to bore him it wouldn't be any time soon.
Ryou had a new toy.
Masochistic Ryou. Sorry if the time line is fuzzy it's right after Malik and Bakura's duel with Marik. I don't remember hearing where Ryou went soooo this is my fangirly-filler. Good or bad tell me what you think!