AN: Happy Hallowe'en.
A soft blow of palm to the mirror did nothing to break it.
Ryou had know this.
He had know that nothing he could do would take the voice away. The voice was never gone, even when Yuugi assured him it was.
They should know this by now.
He always came back, and the whispers became actions.
The first time Ryou had seen the voice in the mirror, there had been no doubt of who it was. To see the double, overlaid image of himself had only caused him to stare for the briefest of seconds. The eyes and the smirk, was all he saw.
A hard blow to the mirror didn't shatter it either.
Or maybe he just weak.
That's what the voice always laughed. Ryou did know better then to listen to the voice, but when it echoed his thoughts so intimately, it was hard to deny.
He may be weak, but he wasn't stupid.
Pulling the mirror off the wall had taken half the plaster off too; it had been screwed into the wall. Ryou didn't care. Smuggling down the stairs and into the alley had been harder, but the sound of it shattering under the old bamboo umbrella had been well worth it.
But, as the voice said, it did nothing.
Mirrors slowly disappeared from his life, and going into the school's restrooms, gradually became a test. Going by the row of sinks, he should not grimace at the ghosting figure transposed upon him. Washing his hands, he should only look down, but not look meek.
He still looked at himself, stealing glances, and fighting the shudders long enough to examine himself. He would not let the voice drive him past insanity. He would know the shape of his face.
Then one morning, he awoke with the Ring gone, truly gone.