Disclaimer: Don't own Yu-gi-oh!

Note: Yes, this has angst (go figure), but it ends happily, I promise! It is a Christmas fic, after all.

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This was inarguably - absolutely, positively, without a shadow of a doubt - the worst Christmas of his entire life.

It had all started the weekend after Thanksgiving. Ryou had gone to a tree lot to buy a small tree. Bakura had been insufferable. For one, he would not stop expressing his opinion of how idiotic it was to have a dead tree in one's house for a month. He had commented on every tree Ryou had considered, always finding some flaw. Ryou had become frustrated and finally told Bakura to be quiet if he didn't have anything beneficial to say. Unfortunately, he had forgotten they were in public and reprimanded the Spirit aloud, consequently earning himself skeptical expressions from several other customers. After he had finally bought a tree a little higher than his head, Bakura has refused to assist in carrying, forcing Ryou to lug it home by himself.

The next disagreements came with the decorating of the apartment over the following couple of days. Bakura declined every invitation to help decorate, disregarding the practice as frivolous and unnecessary since Ryou would just take them down in a few weeks. He had even gone so far as to forbid Ryou from putting up a few specific decorations - such as ribbons, the wreath, and his boughs of holly. After Bakura tore up the ribbons, Ryou thought it best not to argue. He didn't need every bit of decoration, anyway.

Ryou could deal with taunts and complaints from Bakura, even when he mocked the effort Ryou put into finding the perfect gift for each of his friends and wrap them to best of his ability, often redoing them and wasting much wrapping paper and many bows.

Though it strained his patience, Ryou could even forgive when Bakura ruined the meal he was making for the local homeless shelter. In his boredom, the Spirit had idly fiddled with the oven temperature when Ryou was out of the room. Then he had nibbled on the stack of breadcrumbs, reducing it to half its original amount. Finally, he had spilled the egg mixture for the dessert all over the chicken on the cutting board. When Ryou had re-entered the he had stood open-mouthed for a whole minute. Bakura hadn't shown the smallest bit of remorse for causing Ryou to start from scratch.

However, all this he could forgive and forget after a few days of pent up frustration. What happened the week before Christmas, though, put him over the top.

It had been the Thursday before Christmas, an exact week before the holiday. Ryou had been bustling around wrapping presents and marking off his list of things to do. Bakura had commented that Ryou must be the only person that was excited by having so much to do.

About half past eight, when Ryou had been putting away his wrapping paper, he had suddenly remembered a decoration he had yet to hang on the tree. He scurried out of the room to the box of decorations. After a minute, he had rushed back with an object wrapped in tissue paper. Ryou had revealed it as a small angel ornament, white wings sprouting from its back and a tiny heart held in his hands.

Bakura had scoffed at Ryou for being so forgetful when he had spent so much time obsessing over the holiday. Ryou had explained that the ornament had been a present from his sister. She couldn't wait for Christmas so had given it to him an exact week before Christmas. Ryou brought out the ornament every year at the same time to commemorate his sister.

Bakura had mocked his attachment to the past and promptly swiped the ornament from Ryou's hand, eyeing it with distain. He had called Ryou foolish, hanging his hope on too many fragile things. Ryou had politely, yet somewhat apprehensively, asked Bakura to give the fragile ornament back, but Bakura only smirked and held the ornament just out of the smaller boy's reach. Ryou, increasingly concerned about the well-being of his precious ornament, had swiped at Bakura's hand, but Bakura had kept it from him. Bakura had teased Ryou, waving the gift precariously in the air. Ryou had begged and pleaded for Bakura to return it before something happened, but Ryou's desperation had only fueled Bakura's antics, the yami having lacked ways to taunt Ryou the last month.

The two had danced around the living room, Ryou going at Bakura's hand from every possible angle, but his yami successfully keeping him at bay. Then, Bakura had taken a step back and tripped over a box of decorations. As he stumbled to catch his footing, the ornament had flown from his fingers and across the room, crashing on the hard floor.

For several minutes, Ryou had just stared at the shards of painted glass strewn across the hardwood. He had then walked slowly over to the shattered ornament and knelt down. He had gingerly picked up one of the cracked wings, gazing silently at the fragment of his deceased sister's creation.

Then he had clenched his fist around the broken glass and turned on Bakura. He had screamed at him to get out, to go away. His heart had felt like it had broken with that ornament, one of the last pieces he had of his little sister. In his grief, he had told Bakura that all he did was ruin things. He hadn't cared how yami might have reacted… he had just exploded.

The next several days had passed with no interaction between yami and hikari. As the week wore on, though, Ryou had begun to regret his outburst. He was torn, distressed that his cherished angel ornament was now a pile of broken glass on his desk, yet guilty that he had been so cruel to his other half.

When Christmas Eve had burst upon Ryou's doorstep, Ryou had prepared a special dinner, hoping to sooth the tension between him and Bakura. However, Bakura had ignored the meal, leaving the table halfway through. Ryou had finished and cleaned up in dejected silence.

His heartstrings pulled at him to talk with Bakura… yet a part of him was still incensed at his yami. How could Bakura have destroyed something so precious to Ryou and act as if it were nothing?

Thus, he stood before his bedroom door, the battle of emotions still raging within. He shifted his weight from one foot to the next, contemplating what to say. Bakura had secluded himself in Ryou's room since dinner. Ryou was unsure whether it was wise to disturb him.

Sighing, Ryou finally grasped the knob and opened the door. Hesitantly stepping into his room, he saw Bakura was sitting at the desk, back to Ryou.

"B... Bakura?"

The Spirit didn't respond. Ryou bit his lip.

"Um... Yuugi-kun and the others... we're all going caroling."

Again, Bakura didn't react, just continued whatever he was doing at the desk.

Guilt built up in Ryou's stomach. Maybe he shouldn't have been so harsh... but Bakura deserved it.... didn't he? Ryou sighed. Why couldn't he hold a grudge?

"We're going to exchange presents afterwards, so I'll be back late..."

Bakura gave a grunt in reply.

Still, Ryou lingered in the doorway. Bakura all but ignored his existence.

"I..." Ryou looked at the floor. "I..."

He lifted his head. Bakura was still facing away from him. Ryou released a sigh of defeat.

"I... I guess, I'll be going..."

With no response from his yami, Ryou turned out of his room. He sullenly walked out of the apartment into the cold winter night.

Ryou opened the front door and quietly stepped inside. After closing the door behind him, he slipped off his shoes and advanced further into the apartment. It was quiet. None of the lights were on in the front rooms. Had Bakura returned to the Ring for the night?

Sighing, Ryou flicked on the hallway light and ambled toward his bedroom. He stopped in front of his closed door, eyes fixed on the paper taped crookedly to the wood.

"Stay out." It read.

He bit his lip, staring at the door for a few minutes longer as he clung to the desperate hope of his yami coming out and removing the sign. But that was a foolish hope. Bakura wanted nothing to do with Ryou for the rest of that "cursed holiday".

Ryou turned away dejectedly and walked into the living room. He set the bag of presents next to the tree. His spirit fell when he gazed at the single present under that tree - the one he had made for Bakura. He still remembered the amount of disinterest Bakura had displayed when he had first showed him the wrapped box. He didn't care.

There had been no word from Ryou's father. No present... no card... not even a phone call. His father didn't care, either. His research and discoveries were of the highest priority, regardless of the season.

The joyous spirit of Christmas he had regained with his friends had by now fled Ryou's apartment, once again. Ryou collasped on the couch. Why? Christmas was supposed to be a time he could forget his woes and bask in the happiness of the season. Why did he always have to spend the merry holiday alone? His friends had families... they had loved ones who would share in the celebration. But why... oh why, now that he finally had someone, did that person also disregard the holiday and Ryou as not worth their time. It weighed heavily on Ryou's spirit.

Ryou cried himself to sleep on the couch that night... the Eve of his worst Christmas ever.

His eyelids fluttered open, eyes still slightly swollen from the previous night's crying. When he remembered what day it was, he felt even more alone. All his friends were probably up laughing with their families and tossing presents to one another... cracking jokes... smiling. Ryou blinked to push back the new wave of tears that threatened to break loose.

Shaking his head, Ryou decided to make himself something to eat to clear his mind... for now at least.

With a large yawn, Ryou stretched out his arms. His wrist hit an object by his head, knocking over the side of the couch. He frowned. What could that be?

He leaned over and picked it up. After blinking away the sleep in his eyes, he turned the square object in his hands, staring at it in confusion. It was a poorly wrapped box. Ryou recognized the packaging as the Christmas wrapping paper he had already packed away. His name was scrawled across one side in black pen.

His curiosity piqued, Ryou sat up and carefully peeled off the paper, then discarded it onto the floor. He pried open the flaps of the small box, then extracted a square picture frame. The silver borders were made of twisted metal, small designs etched into the surface.

Ryou's eyes widened when he saw the two, chipped wings of his shattered angel ornament glued to the top panel. He fingered the white wings in awe before his eyes dropped to the cracked red heart attached to the bottom panel in the same manner.

Tears gathered in his eyes as Ryou gazed upon an old picture of his beloved Amane. It was a photograph Bakura had confiscated long ago and supposedly incinerated. He had been so distressed, as it was his favorite picture of the beaming child. A smile tugged at the corners of Ryou's mouth and he released a short laugh as he took in his younger sister's beautiful grin, the joy of youthful naivety glowing from her very being.

Overjoyed tears ran down Ryou's face. He couldn't believe it.

A slip of paper inside the box caught Ryou's eye, and he held it before his face.

In the same, unprofessional scrawl, was written:

I know I always ruin things. It's the only thing I know how to do. But everyone seems to change at Christmas. Thought I'd try something different.

Nearly shaking from his joyful sobs, Ryou wiped away the excess moisture from his cheeks. A soft grunt drew his attention to the other chair. Bakura was sprawled out on the armchair, breathing deeply in sleep. Ryou giggled when he noticed a small dab of glue on the Bakura's cheek. He smiled contentedly. Somehow, with the sunlight radiating off his pale skin, the Spirit of the Ring seemed more innocent that moment.

Happiness flowering in his chest, Ryou walked over to the tree and hung the makeshift picture frame on one of the branches by a thin string looped at the top. He stepped back and admired his yami's gift. Glancing back at the slumbering Bakura, Ryou released another joyous giggle.

He scooped up Bakura's present from under the tree, then quickly returned to the coffee table and flipped over the note. He grabbed a pen from the table and wrote a quick message on the back. Unwrapping his gift to Bakura, Ryou held up the mini Millennium Ring he had constructed out of gold pipe cleaners and glitter. He glanced down at the 'Thank-you' written across the back of the paper, then grabbed both items and walked quietly over to Bakura. He gently lay the present and note on the arm of the chair.

Ryou sat on the ground by Bakura's leg. The ecstasy within threatening to overflow, he closed his eyes and leaned back against the front of the chair. The sun's morning rays caressed his face.

A smile lifted to corners of his mouth as he whispered, "Merry Christmas, Bakura."

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Author's Notes: Well, I like that. Not one of my finest works, but I wanted to write a fluffly, little Christmas fic with these two. Hope you all enjoyed~ ^^