Well, guys, it's been a fun and bumpy run, but this is it! The last chapter! I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I did writing it. And thank you, thank you, thank you to all you lovely reviewers, especially those of you who stuck with this story and didn't give up on it! Arigato gozaimasu. &bows&

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Ryou's heart was ripped in half. His soul was torn. Part of him- his mind, the logical part, held him with Malik. His sense of duty and honor bound him to the life of a geisha. He was not free to run from it. The other part of him- his heart- beckoned him to jump out the window and follow Bakura.

But Bakura was long gone. The thief disappeared into the night and Ryou would never see him again- Bakura would be leaving Japan. He was moving to a whole other country. With him went Ryou's heart and his dreams. But his dreams were just that; dreams. They were not meant to come true in this life.

Now all he had left was this life, this reality. Blinking stupidly, Ryou gazed up at Malik. He did not want to think, to feel. It hurt too much. Numbly, he said, "You're bleeding." Shakily, Ryou stood up and dabbed at Malik's temple only to realize his hand was empty.

Malik gazed at Ryou, but the geisha would not look at him."Ryou-"

Ryou did not respond. He dabbed for a few more seconds before realizing his hand was still empty. His eyes widened; he looked up at Malik, blushed, lowered his head again and used the corner of his beautiful, expensive silk robe to mop up the young noble's blood. Malik smiled and put his arms around Ryou; the slender boy flinched.

The stra mats muffled the pounding of the guards' feet. They burst into the bedroom, the captain barking orders, then spread out over the vast mansion grounds. Having assigned her men various tasks, the captain turned to her lord. "My lord." She stood crisply at attention. "The men are searching for the intruder this very instant. Was it a robbery? Assassination? If so, the palace should be notified, yes?"

Malik rolled his eyes. "You over-react. Now, piss off and leave us alone." He waved a hand casually in dismissal. The captain bowed respectfully then left. "What a pain in the ass." He muttered, glancing at Ryou.

Ryou still gazed at his toes, jabbing the tips of his fingers together. Blood from the danna's temple dripped from Ryou's hand onto the shredded tatami and stained his pretty pink sleeve. Tears shimmered in his eyes, clinging to his dark lashes.

"Ryou-" Malik raised a hand to cup the boy's pale cheek. His fingertips brushed the petal-soft skin and Ryou pulled away.

"I think there's a first aid kit here somewhere…" Ryou bit his lip, wiping away his tears with his clean sleeve as he knelt, searching through Malik's belongings until he found a small, portable medicine chest.

Malik followed, leaning against a wooden support beam and staring down at the top of the geisha's head. He sighed when Ryou remained silent, seemingly intent on his search. "I've always known you loved him."

Ryou's mouth fell open; his eyes widened, tears falling unchecked. The pot of antibiotic cream and roll of bandages slipped from his lax fingers. His jaw worked silently then he made a half sob, half cry in the back of his throat. His thin shoulders shook.

Ryou was disoriented; his thoughts scattered in a thousand pieces. He moved numbly, lost in a fog of emotion. His thinking was a tunnel, focusing on the task of cleaning up his danna. His tunnel had just been blown up.

Malik's face twisted with concern when Ryou continued to remain still and unresponsive, like a slack doll. "Ryou." He knelt besides the geisha and turned his face to him. The boy's face was slack, his eyes blank as he blinked stupidly at Malik.

"Ryou!" The blonde shook him sharply. Ryou's head snapped back. He whimpered in pain, then slumped into Malik, burying his face in the noble's neck and clutching his burgundy robe. Ryou shook, emitting little whimpers. His jumbled thoughts clattered about his head, disorienting him and giving him a headache. He tried to hide from all this in the shelter of Malik's arms.

Malik held him tightly, running his fingers soothingly in Ryou's fluffy, tangled silver locks. They stayed like that until the blood clotted and dried, turning a rust color on Malik's head and Ryou had salty, dried tear tracks on his pale cheeks.

"H-how did you know?" Ryou's voice was muffled by Malik's skin. His emotional turmoil calmed for the moment, and he had managed to capture a though. He still clung tightly to Malik for fear of falling apart.

Malik kissed the top of his head. "The covert glances you two shared."

Ryou whimpered and Malik hugged him. A dry smirk twisted the noble's lips. "Don't worry. I'm the only one who noticed. I'm not like the rest of those spoiled, rich idiots."

Ryou heard a note of pain in the rich voice. He pulled back, moving his head to Malik's shoulder so he could look up at him. "Malik-dono?"

Malik smiled sadly, his eyes glittering bitterly. "It's nothing." Ryou let go of the cloth in his sweaty palm, reaching for one of the darker boy's hands and squeezing it, silently encouraging him to open up and stay emotionally close.

Malik looked down at the tatami under their feet and mumbled into his chest as if divulging a forbidden secret to a partner in crime on the streets. "I haven't always lived like this. I grew up in the streets." He paused and looked Ryou in the eye, watching him. "Bakura's the son of the emperor's disgraced sister."

Ryou's eyes widened in surprise and he gasped softly. "H-he never- no one ever said-"

Malik smiled bitterly, his mouth twisted into a sarcastic scowl. "No, they wouldn't. It's something no one talkes about, a skeleton best left buried. It changes everything and nothing." He ran his free hand through his tousled golden locks then shook his head.

Ryou tightened his slim fingers around in Malik's and met his gaze straight on. "It doesn't change how I feel about either of you."

Malik snorted and swallowed a pain-filled laugh. "Of course you don't. Can't you see that's why I love you?"

Ryou's slender body trembled slightly and he bit his lower lip but would not look away, his big, bright brown gaze holding his danna's.

Malik smiled, his own eyes warm and sad as he continued. "My father was disgraced along with Bakura's mother. My mother is another sister of the emperor. Bakura's mother- my aunt- had an affair with my father. My aunt was not married; she became pregnant. However, rather than admit to the affair and cause further dishonor upon herself, she claimed to have slept with a servant. She was sent away in shame. My mother had just birthed me when my father left her. He loved my aunt more than my mother."

"He took my older brother, Marik, with him." Malik's beautiful features twisted in anger and resentment at being abandoned, left behind and forgotten. "My father and aunt were rogues, exiles, living in the wilderness, thieving from travelers. A hard life instead of the soft, pampered one they were used to changed them in a bad way. A very bad way. That's why Bakura and Marik are so screwed up. I didn't exactly escape unscathed, either. The scars on my back aren't from battle. They're momentos of my father's handiwork."

Finshed, Malik looked to the closed window and the world beyond. His world, where there was no place for the secrets in his past, no place for Bakura.

"Malik." Ryou whispered softly, voice full of Malik's pain. He squeezed Malik's in comfort, leaned against him. He was not madly, head over heels in love with the danna, but Malik still had a place in his heart for him, and felt his pain. A pain Malik was never able to share with anyone until tonight, a secret kept locked away like Ryou's own love for Bakura. A secret locked away in the corners of his heart, best left forgotten in the light of day but too painful to be swept away.

"My father came back for me. Stole me away when I was three. Whether I'm grateful for that or not, I still don't know. It wasn't out of love for me. Things between him and my aunt went sour, and he thought having another child would make things better, the way they used to be between them. He underestimated my own mother. She already lost one son, and she refused to loose another. She took some the emperor's soldiers and tracked him down. She slaughtered her husband and her sister for betraying and disgracing her. I didn't see it; I was asleep in her arms. Bakura and Merik did, though. They ran, little faces spattered with their parents' blood. Bakura was the only one who got away. Mother chased Merik down and caught him; she let Bakura go. That's why Bakura and Merik are both so messed up in the head. Bakura is unhinged, and Merik is fully insane."

Malik turned his face back to Ryou. "You're the only one I've ever told." He shook his head, looking away again, to the window. "I hate this life. I don't want to be a lord. I don't want an arranged marriage. I want to run away with you. Like you almost did with Bakura. I want to let Merik loose, let him slaughter everyone while you and I fly."

He pulled Ryou tightly to him, gazed back into his deep brown eyes, his own bright with fervent emotion. "But I can't. For the same reasons you chose me over Bakura. The chains of duty, of society shackle us so tightly. We're on choke chains, you and I. That's why I made you mine. We have the same souls, you and I. You understand me- I can tell you these things, these secrets. I can escape in you."

Malik's voice was so full of pain it seared Ryou's soul. His heart twisted in his chest. He and Malik were so alike, two sides of the same coin. They went well together. Both trapped in a life they hated. Birds in a cage, with clipped wings. Even when the door was open to them, neither could fly free; the feathers of freedom had been plucked from their hearts, their minds and left them unwilling prisoners of their fates. They could sympathize with each other.

At least Malik had an escape, though. In him, Ryou. The geisha had no such escape. There was always the window, the slums in the strets. But Ryou was too soft, too frail to survive in that cold, cruel world. He could barely survive in this one.

Ryou returned Malik's gaze. He rose upon his knees, out of his danna's lap and framed Malik's tan face with both his dainty porcelain hands then kissed him softly. Ryou refused to cry, to let Malik's pain flow through him. He pulled back and Malik blinked, a little dazed from the unexpected initiation on Ryou's part. "Ryou-chan?"

Ryou just smiled softly, large brown eyes warm and full of understanding. He shook his head slightly. The time for secrets was over, pain, hurt, regret and longing tucked back not-so-neatly into the secret corners of their hearts. Morning was coming. "My lord needs his wounds tended."

Malik lay back with his head in Ryou's soft lap, occasionally wincing when the geisha tenderly dabbed with a rag soaked in stinging antiseptic solution at his blood-encrusted head wound. Eventually, all the dried blood came off and Ryou washed the wound with warm, soapy water and patted it dry. When Malik's face would scrunch in pain, Ryou stroked his cheek.

Ryou worked in silence. He opened the small ceramic pot and coated his fingers with the thick, creamy white paste. Gently, he rubbed it into the washed wound. Malik winced, his eyes screwed shut. Ryou paused and stroked his soft cheek with his thumb. Slowly, Malik relaxed. Once the gash was covered with gauze, Ryou wound an off-white bandage around Malik's head to protect the injury from dirt and infection.

Ryou ran his fingers lovingly over Malik's face and through his thick hair until his danna's breathing slowed and evened out; Malik fell asleep in Ryou's arms.

A night breeze brushed through the room. Ryou shivered and glanced at the open window. He got up and went to it, staring out at the dark, shadowy, and silent city, then up at the sliver of a crescent moon. He sighed and closed the shutters, locking them before slowly going back to Malik's side, his place in life. He stretched out on the bedroll and felt the warm weight besides him shift; a sleeping Malik rolled over and draped one arm over Ryou's waist while the young geisha stared at the locked window.

Half of him was content where he lay in Malik's strong, warm arms and the other half of him wondered where Bakura was, if Bakura was warm. The thief was out of his life, but would never be out of his heart. However, if he went with Bakura, he would forever regret his actions and would wonder the same things about Malik.

No, in life, no one was ever truly happy. Ryou smiled sadly at the locked window. But he could always dream, and that was something no one could ever take away from him.

OWARI

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