Pairing: Butterflyshipping (Mai x Anzu x Ryou), with some squinting
Summary: Sometimes you need to sober up. Mai drags Anzu and Ryou to go dancing.
Continuity: Post-canon, undefined as usual.
Notes: There are more thing unsaid than said. Also, this is very PWP-ish. Sorry.
Warning: Underage alcohol consumption.
Ryou wasn't particularly sure how they had ended up there, so he recounted the steps in his head.
It was nice, to be able to trace his own thoughts, and not find them murky and obscured with magic. In fact, magic seemed to be gone completely, along with that secondary presence in his head and he wasn't quite sure what to make of that. His thoughts were lonely, now. And it was supposed to be a good thing.
Running into Mai was unexpected, but couldn't really be. Domino was a relatively small city and, all things considered, they were all part of a similar set of circles, so to speak. She looked pleasantly surprised to see him, either way, though he couldn't quite understand why. If he were honest, he didn't understand why any of them still sought him out now that everything was finished. The magic vanishing, Atem going through gate, had reversed most of the adverse affects for they were no longer necessary. The evil was gone.
A part of him was gone. And considering that it had indeed been a part of him, he still found it difficult that others were concerned about him.
She didn't know that she was making things difficult by being friendly, and he couldn't blame her for it. The kisses she laid on his cheeks - one on each just like people did when Ryou had been in Europe, with his father, before this all began - stung his cheeks. He hadn't been helpful to her, had in fact put her danger just by being around, yet she greeted him like this. It hurt.
Ah, that was how it started. She asked him how he was doing, and he was honest, because she deserved it for her unwavering loyalty: Sad, drifting. He wasn't sure what to do with his newly found freedom and everything seemed beyond him. Ryou was dirty and unworthy in a world he had nearly destroyed. Magic was gone and the real things that had been broken couldn't be fixed anymore.
Mai wouldn't take no for an answer and decided then and there she wanted to hear more. They would have coffee, she told him, if he didn't have anything to do. He didn't, and apparently she didn't either. So Ryou allowed himself to be pulled into the nearest shop, and in doing so nearly ran into Anzu who was stepping out, a cup of steaming liquid in her own hands.
Ryou didn't stand a chance against the two of them. From the moment Mai admitted that Ryou was 'down in the dumps', Anzu was hooked. What was it about nearly killing people that made them want to stick around? The two of them seemed happy to help, when it was the last thing he deserved.
But Yuugi's friends were always kind, and as they sat together he decided that if they wouldn't give him a choice he would let them listen. Because of Mai, the three of them drew stares there in the shop, and even Anzu seemed aware of it. When the two of them began to bicker about the right response to Ryou's short, quiet story, she too held her voice low.
Mai didn't. "Hon, I know it seems like it's best for you to just hide away, but you'll just think about it more. You're safe now - go do something fun! Take a walk during the day, have lunch with friends, go to the beach… better yet, take a vacation! There's nothing to worry about now. Nothing helps more than a little relaxation!" She giggled and winked.
It might have seemed strange, but travel held mostly good memories for him. Ryou and his father always met good people when they traveled together, and he liked seeing new places. Though he didn't like the idea of running away from his problems, a vacation would be a break, something he felt like he'd forgotten the idea of.
"...I don't think that's a good idea," Anzu said. "Ryou seems to have real thoughts that he needs to get out to someone. Have you seen a counselor? Or even just talked to someone at all? Does it help?"
Not that he wanted them to know, but he used to have a therapist, after his sister passed away. He wasn't really sure whether that would help. Ryou wasn't exactly comfortable with the idea of trying convince someone that card games were real and he'd been the vessel for an evil spirit. It was just not the sort of thing that looked good on paper.
He could admit that, however, talking to people helped. Even sitting in the middle of downtown Domino and speaking with them was helpful. They'd been together, saw similar things, so he didn't have to worry about them thinking he was making things up.
"Do you talk to anyone?" he asked Anzu.
Her face fell after she heard that, but she answered dutifully. "...I miss Atem. A lot. Sometimes I talk to Jounouchi about it."
And was something he could understand. Atem had been kind to them. But Ryou didn't miss his other half. No one did. What he missed was not being alone.
"I think that's why you both need time to yourselves," Mai said suddenly. "You're both spending time thinking about the same thing all the time. If you do that all the time how do you think it's going to change?"
"It's not that easy," Anzu replied.
Memory was a complex thing, if nothing else, that was what Bakura had taught him. One could be a prisoner of them in many ways: they could hold a person captive in time, stuck and afraid to move on; or a person could trap themselves because they didn't want to move on. Either way, it was scary. Ryou hadn't wanted to forget Amane, hadn't wanted to move on from her. In the end the same loneliness he felt now was what he had been avoiding, but he knew it was wrong this time.
If nothing else, Ryou couldn't say that the Ring hadn't held its promise. So long as he wore it, he had a friend. An awful wraith of a friend, clinging to his soul and lashing out at others through his body, but a friend nonetheless. Never had Bakura left him, but he hadn't been allowed to leave, either. They were both forced to be loyal and to see things to the end. Without that promise, Ryou wouldn't have been able to throw himself in the middle to protect Yuugi and the others.
Their connection together had been a large circle, a snake eating its own tail - its own beginning and end. It was all destined from the start, and Ryou wasn't sure if knowing another person so intimately would ever be possible. No matter how many times he reviewed the images in his mind, there was still the same conclusion: For all of his maliciousness, Bakura was the only being he could trust to never betray him. Even when foiling his plans, the two were bound together and only so much could be done. It was a backhanded sort of honesty, toxic and desperate to break itself; but such a thing was blatantly impossible, because it was made to shatter by design when certain conditions were met. Their inability to disconnect had been the start of the end.
"Ryou," Mai said, interrupting his brooding. "You could come on vacation with us."
Anzu made a face and held out her hands in front of her. "You can't just go on vacation!" she told them. "It costs money and it takes time, and that's just not possible. And who said I wanted to go, anyway?"
Violet eyes rolled high, and Mai made a shooing motion with her hands. "Fine, I'll go alone with Ryou, then."
He wasn't sure if he felt comfortable going out with them. Even Anzu, still affected by the same events, seemed to be doing better despite her grief. What if he made them worse somehow; made it so that they only thought of sad things?
"You don't need a ton of money for a vacation," Mai said. "You just need things to do. You like to dance, right? So go dancing! Enjoy yourself. Are you two busy tonight? I'll show you, if you want."
The immediacy, the movement, was all too sudden for him. Ryou made his decisions much more slowly than this. He could comb through and convince himself that he didn't deserve good things, this way. She wasn't giving him enough time to figure out how to decline, either.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked her. Not because he needed to know - it seemed obvious that she was being nice. Suddenly, he could feel her kisses on his cheeks, burning his skin. But having her answer gave him just a little more time.
Mai's smile almost faltered. "I was going myself, really. I don't see the problem in you two coming along. I got a room and everything."
Anzu didn't seem to believe her. "What?"
But she didn't offer an answer. "Are you in, or out? Because I'm taking Ryou with me either way."
As they walked through the streets of Domino, one of Mai's slender arms entwined with Ryou's, she explained more of what she meant. When she wasn't doing well, was frustrated or overwhelmed, she reserved a room at one of the local hotels and spent the night (and sometimes, day) doing things of her choosing around the city. She looked through newspapers, visited the nearby campuses, checked online until she found the perfect activity. It was how she took her mind off of things. Doing something she enjoyed helped put things in perspective, she said.
The admiration in Anzu's voice, that Mai was able to take control of her mood that way, told Ryou that she was sold on the idea. They were up and out of the coffee shop before he could share his thoughts. Their choice was made and he wasn't bothered enough to speak up, he supposed.
Mai led them around the downtown area and showed them all of the places she had visited: restaurants, theatres, concert halls, even an arcade. Ryou was surprised she could find anything new, with all the places she had been. But Domino was much more than Seto Kaiba and dueling, she said - and they needed to remember that.
Ryou wasn't sure if he would agree that they'd gone on vacation, by the end of that night. It seemed more like Mai was a hurricane, and the two of of them had been swept up in her.
That signature cleavage and a wink granted them access to a club that neither him or Anzu were old enough for: a dark, dank place in the basement of some office building. He didn't think that it had been picked on purpose - but Ryou felt his most comfortable in the dark. It was easier to slip into old bindings that way, so that he could face. For him, it was a guilty pleasure, to admit that he'd once felt safe in the clutches of Bakura's rage.
From the moment they entered they were surrounded by loud, thumping music. Anzu held his hand tightly as Mai led them to the bar and to empty seats. Once they were seated in them, they were glued - scared, Ryou acknowledged. Throwing himself into the throng of bodies on the floor before them was intimidating at best. Sometimes he still felt like a wolf in sheep's clothing, like it was unfair for him to interact with others if they didn't know what he'd been and what he'd done. Though Anzu's reasons were likely different, she stayed put next to him, eyes scanning the crowd.
Mai left, unwilling to sacrifice her fun-time to make them comfortable, and returned several times, asking them to join her. One time, she returned with drinks for each of them.
"You guys need to loosen up," she said. "No one's watching you out there. No one knows you. You can be whoever you want."
Though Anzu declined at first, she was persuaded to take a sip and then finish the rest, when it didn't taste awful. Ryou and alcohol didn't mix well and he told them, but Mai was kind; she got him some fizzy drink instead. He learned that 'virgin' drinks didn't have any alcohol in them. That was new at least.
For him, the night wasn't worthwhile because of the location, or the activity; it was watching Anzu unravel that charmed him.
When she was sitting next to him the signs were clear in hindsight: her feet tapped with the beat even in her barstool. But after the first drink, she became a little bolder. She and Mai danced right there in front of him, because she didn't want to venture out yet. They shared small, careful movements meant to not offend or address her shyness. Swaying, a little turning. Perhaps a bit of singing, when the song was familiar. She kept looking back at him for encouragement. If Anzu was sure of nothing else, it was where her feet would be planted. With the other partiers behind them, excusing themselves around his friend, it became clear that even when reserved she was a dancer.
She didn't want to admit it, but she was having fun, so Ryou smiled at them, kept them going.
Mai left and came back again and brought them more drinks, and Anzu finished hers without a second thought. Ryou sipped his and didn't like it. There was a hint of alcohol in it this time, and he gave it back.
"Oh, come on Ryou. A baby could drink that!" Mai insisted.
"I don't want to get sick," he protested.
"Okay, okay. Take one more sip, please? I'll drink the rest."
It was a compromise, so he agreed and she held her end of the bargain. But Anzu giggled and tugged at Mai, pulling her further out than they'd been before, past a few others. The grin on her face wasn't fully goofy but it was wider than normal. Brighter. Influenced. Ryou wondered, briefly, if that could be the case with his feelings, too. Imagining Bakura as an intoxicant seemed somehow fitting.
When the two of them melded into the crowd, he felt lonely. He'd had the opportunity to join them and he declined, like usual. Ryou didn't know how to stop from punishing himself.
Because that's what you're doing, he thought.
This time, Anzu's dancing was different. Her steps were still measured, but not controlled. She didn't mind it when she brushed against the people around her. Anzu brushed back, let Mai hold her close, twirled and rocked with her, wasn't afraid to pull away on her own or for them to not be touching. It made him jealous. Ryou couldn't remember the last time he felt comfortable touching anyone.
They came back. "I want a drink," he said, voice shaking a little.
But Mai looked him over and shook her head. "Don't get ahead of yourself, tiger. Come on, dance with us." She pulled him off of his stool, interlacing their fingers, and he worked hard not to let the cringe show on his face. He was in motion, after all - maybe she wouldn't notice it.
She didn't.
There was a part of him that expected her to just disintegrate, to burst into flames, to fall into a heap on the floor. Instead, she held onto him tightly and Anzu took his other hand. Somehow, the music got louder once he was on the floor. They pulled him inside, deep inside the crowd until they were swallowed by it. Flashing lights and their touches were the only guides and Ryou clung to them like a mewling child.
His first steps were awkward and barely there. Keeping focus was impossible. Around, everywhere around were hands and legs and bodies and - for a moment - he panicked. Nothing about this was right. He wasn't meant to be with people.
He wasn't meant to be with people.
Suddenly, Mai held him close, arms wrapped around him. She pressed his face into her chest and he was too bothered to be embarrassed. Anzu - he hoped it was her, at least - held him from the back, and instead of the wild dancing from before they swayed with him like a heartbeat. Together they were a single creature under the bright lights, moving with the throng of people. Ryou was barely with them, trying not to drown, but he didn't fight his friends.
It was impossible. Friends were how they'd all gotten through this in the first place.
He did, eventually, get his hands on the drink, though he couldn't remember how; and Ryou finished the entire thing. From what people had told him, aside from when he was sick, the alcohol was supposed to make him feel like he could do anything - but that wasn't true. There was only the one beverage, and although Mai berated him about it (at least, he thought she did - maybe it was Anzu?) he just felt silly and warm. He and Anzu giggled over small things, insignificant things. They stopped in the middle of the dance floor to talk and ignored the music.
Drinking made him a little numb. When Anzu told him, frowning, that she had always felt bad for him, it didn't hurt that much. Others touching him didn't hurt at all and nothing happened to them when they bumped into him. Ryou breathed for the first time in a long time and his blood boiled. Though Mai wouldn't let him have another drink, they pulled him out several more times (it seemed like that, anyway; maybe they were out there for a while). It didn't bother him that they pressed closer each (or over) time.
The rest of the night was a blur after.
Someone made a stupid joke about Seto Kaiba not knowing what to do in a place like this and he remembered Anzu winking at him and the warm feelings that brought. There were more hands, pulling him outside and he might've whined when Mai decided it was time to go and Anzu said something and he laughed but couldn't remember why. The air was cold and he didn't like it and he wanted to go back inside so Mai gave him her jacket and Anzu thought that was cute and he almost tripped putting it on and he laughed so hard at himself that he cried and they had to stop because he couldn't remember the last time that he laughed.
Had he ever laughed?
That hit him hard. The lights of the city slurred in his vision and the rest of the walk was blank except for tears. Ryou cried all the way to the hotel but couldn't be bothered about how he looked. Anzu and Mai's voices were muffled around him, sharp sounds instead of light and tinkling like in the club.
Because he hadn't seen anything else with clarity, when Ryou woke up in the middle of the night he couldn't remember how he had ended up in the bed with them. Surely, he must've argued with Mai about it? He felt uncomfortable again, though he remembered what had been like to not feel that way and it forced a sigh from him. His arms were trapped between his own body and Mai's back because she faced away from him; Anzu was scrunched up on a pillow that lay half on his side and half on his back. Moving without waking at least one of them wouldn't be possible.
He tried to remember what had happened after he stopped crying and he couldn't. Ryou couldn't bring himself to wake either of them, so he closed his eyes and began to take deep breaths. It wasn't hard to remember the music from last night, and the way they'd swayed together. Never before had he been able to picture himself that close to anyone, even those who knew him. The fact that he could, and knew that he'd been sober when he'd done it…
Oh. He was sober again.
Anzu turned over, abandoning her pillow, and he wished someone was awake to talk to him and to let him talk. He was in the mood, suddenly, to explain why he was so terrified. There were only so many words - they would not do the feeling justice. To look at some of the cards and know that they were once real, to see his fingers stained in someone else's blood and not know where it came from, to hear Bakura's laughter in the backgrounds of his own plans. Ryou was suddenly nervous, and craned his neck to check his companions for injuries.
From what he could see, they were bare. He counted their breaths, they were fine; glanced at a clock on the wall, after his vision adjusted. This was the same day - or night, or morning or whatever. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
"Mm," Anzu said in her sleep, but it didn't turn into anything else. A small shift if any and she was sleeping soundly again.
Sleep, he told himself. It wasn't often that he got to sleep with others, and he needed to make the best of it. On this vacation, they touched him and lived.
And, with them, he had been alive.
Hmmm. I have feelings about this and how it finished, but eeeeehhh.
Thanks for reading! I appreciate it!