AN: So, this is actually catching up with me because this is the second-to-last chapter. Hope you've enjoyed it so far, and I hope the ending does not disappoint! =]
PAINT THE ROSES RED
eleven: how very late it's getting!
Ryou swallows hard.
He bends down to the ground, wrapping his long, thin arms around himself. He clenches his eyes shut until they hurt, and then they start stinging, because the tears are coming faster and faster and Ryou's not going to even try and stop them.
The boy lets out a whimper - small, desperate, exhausted, and then finally, he just lets himself fall. All strength completely fading from his limbs, the soft, green grass brushes against his cool skin as he plops onto it, letting out another small cry as the tears begin sliding down his cheeks. This hopelessness, this misery, this regret - it's nothing new. And Ryou hates that.
He's had enough.
"W-w-why is this..." he's blubbering, now, talking to people who aren't there and never will be. Ghosts. Like him. "W-why does this all keep happening? Why won't it stop?"
Another cry, and Ryou pounds his fists hard against the ground.
"WHY WON'T IT STOP?"
Silence is his only reply, and Ryou shakes his head. But, then again, it's not like he expected anything to really happen. He was just hoping.
Of course, as this entire experience has proven, hoping is utterly useless.
A complete waste of time.
Ryou falls back to the grass.
He spreads his limbs across the ground, closing his eyes and feeling his head pound, his eyes?throb, his body ache?from all the tears and agony. Gently, he shakes his head.
He hasn't even bothered to see where the Afterlife has taken him next. In fact, he couldn't give a damn. He's just sick of it.
For a while, he just sits there.
It's interesting, and it's odd, because nothing happens. No voices are heard. Nothing falls. Nothing moves.
Ryou is alone.
Ryou is safe.
The boy's hazel eyes shoot open.
A wind starts up, now. It's cool, gentle. It makes him shiver more than it normally would, because Ryou feels like this little gust, this little breeze...he feels like it's one of the nicest things this Afterlife has done for him in a long, long time.
His body is pounding and aching and he feels flustered and hot and this breeze just cools and calms him down.
He sighs, letting out a breath, and it's carried away with the wind.
Now, his eyes open again, and he sits up.
And the first thing he's greeted with is four tombstones.
Ryou's heart sinks to his stomach and he feels his head start to twirl, all feelings of relative peace and comfort from seconds before whizzing away at 100 miles per hour.
Oh, God.
Ryou swallows, and his eyes narrow, and he thinks that this is not fair. Just when he thought he was getting a reprieve, however small it would be, the Universe has to snatch it away as quick as it came and replace it with this.
Through tear-filled eyes, with the faint, almost-nonexistent lighting (Wherever the Universe sent him - it's nighttime) Ryou manages to read the writing on the tombstones.
The first two are familiar.
Well, fairly.
Ryou's.
Bakura's.
But the second two?
Well, they're new...
Joey's.
Yugi's.
Ryou lets out a quiet cry and hides his head in his hands.
For a long time, there's nothing but his sobs. And then, Ryou speaks. His voice is thick and his words are clumsy but he knows he has to say what's repeating itself over and over and over in his head.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
And then there are footsteps.
Ryou's head shoots up.
"Mom?"
Ryou's mother stands in front of him, hands in her pockets, wearing the same outfit that she was on that autumn pathway from what seems like forever ago.
All tears stop. Ryou's mouth falls open. He just stares.
She smiles, her brown eyes sparkling the tiniest bit with amusement at his son's rather stunned reaction. "Hey, Ryou," she finally says, and her voice comes out in a whisper, sad and tired. The woman takes a big breath in, and, to Ryou's surprise, she sits.
Ryou feels himself scoot away from his mom.
He's not sure why he does (it's just his mom, after all), but he's just so unsure of everything and anything right now that nothing is safe in his mind.
Silence swirls around the two as that cool wind from before starts up again.
Mother and son watch each other, seated on the green, cool grass. Their gazes are unblinking, unreadable, broken, and blank.
Ryou swallows.
"I want a second chance."
When he says it, he gets a sudden rush of foolishness, and he feels his face flush.
In his mind, the words sounded a lot better than they did when they actually came out.
Who's to say that his mother can somehow get him a "second chance"?
Who's to say his mother actually came for that? Maybe his mother came to finally take him to Heaven or Paradise or whatever Life after Death is supposed to be.
And, in the first place, what would a "second chance" even look like?
Ryou looks down, and he feels stupider than ever. He feels like should apologize, try and fix his mistake, take back what he said, but the words aren't coming and his mother probably doesn't want to hear it, anyway.
More silence.
But, Ryou thinks, but it wouldn't be fair to just let it all stop here.
To put him through all that pain and misery, to make him watch all of his mistakes, watch how everything he did completely tore apart his life and loved ones…to put him through all that and not give him a chance to fix it.
Ryou takes a breath in, and he feels scared, suddenly. Because, Ryou knows he's teetering on the brink of Life and Death.
And whatever is going to happen all depends on his mother's answer.
Ryou looks up, and she smiles.
The boy blinks.
Her smile is small and sad. There's regret behind it.
A lot of regret.
And Ryou feels tears come to his eyes because he realizes that his mother might have made just as many mistakes as himself…but she didn't get any second chances.
She never got to fix it all.
Ryou's bottom lips quivers and he feels kind of selfish for thinking he should be able to fix things when his own mother didn't.
She stands up.
Ryou looks up at her.
She smiles.
"I wish I could have gotten a second chance. To see you grow up."
Ryou bites his lower lip, and now, he's crying. The tears are pouring down his face, and he's really, really crying. And now, he's smiling, looking up at his mother. Through his tears, a grin emerges, and he's not sure why, expect for the fact that his mom is still smiling, and his mom doesn't seem sad at all, and so Ryou thinks he should at least try and be a little happy.
Ryou's mother shakes her head. She takes a big breath in and lets it out. "I made mistakes, Ryou. Everyone does. But the ones I regret the most are the ones I made with you. If I could, I would do it over, and I would be such a better mother to you."
Ryou stands up.
His legs feel wobbly and he takes a quick breath in as he almost loses his balance, but in a few moments he's hugging his mother close, and he's burying his face into the woman's neck. "No, mom," he finally whispers out, voice thick from crying, "No. You were amazing. You taught me so much, and I admired you so much, and you were an amazing mother. Of course you made mistakes. Of course you weren't perfect. But that's part of life. You can't avoid that. I can't avoid that. No one can." Ryou swallows. "No one can. We just have to accept the fact we're not perfect, and move on. Try and do better. Learn."
Silence, and the wind blows past the two again.
Ryou blinks.
Learn.
Ryou pulls away from his mom.
She smiles at him, and she's crying.
"It was great to see you again, Ryou."
There's a beeping noise, and it's annoying Ryou.
He opens his eyes, and he groans, because all of a sudden every single part of him feels like it's on fire.
As the agony floods his veins, for comfort or just as a kneejerk reaction, he brings his thin hands up quickly to his face and tries to rub his eyes so he can open them and see what is going on.
But with the movement, only more pain comes, and he lets out another small cry, dropping his hands back down to his sides right away.
"R-Ryou…?"
Everything stops.
Ryou swallows.
He feels his heart pounding in his ears a million and one miles a minute, and he feels his breaths coming heavy and slow from the sudden rush of adrenaline and…
Wait.
Breath.
Heartbeat.
Ryou's eyes fly open.
Above him is a hospital room ceiling.
He is lying in an all-white room, next to a heart monitor, dressed in a white hospital gown. His pale, stick-thin arms are riddled with needles and IVs. Yugi is sitting next to him, purple eyes wide in complete and utter shock.
Ryou is awake.
Ryou is alive.
"You were…you were, uh, in a coma for a few days. It's Thursday. The accident was Saturday night."
Yugi bites his lower lip, sitting next to Ryou in the same chair as he was when Ryou first awoke. His hoodie is wrapped tightly around himself, and whether that's for comfort or for warmth, Ryou doesn't know. He looks awkward.
Well, to be honest, Ryou would feel kind of awkward, too.
After all, he did just kind of miraculously wake up from a coma the doctors all thought he wouldn't come out of.
Ryou nods slowly at his best friend's words. Slowly, (that's what all his movements have been like, lately; slow. It just hurts too much, otherwise), he turns his head to face the stark-white ceiling.
He swallows.
He smiles. It's weak, almost sarcastic.
"Are you happy I came out of it?" he asks, his voice echoing in the quiet room. For a while, there's a stunned silence, and there's nothing but the incessant, steady beeping of the heart monitor.
Finally, Yugi replies,
"Of course I am, Ryou. Why would you ask me something like that?"
He almost sounds insulted.
Ryou shrugs.
Yugi purses his lips together. "Are you…are you happy that you came out of it?"
Ryou turns back to him, now, and for a moment, he and Yugi just stare at each other. Ryou's face is blank, Yugi's is uncomfortable. He's a bit…upset that his friend would say something like that. And rightfully so, too.
Finally, Ryou smiles. His smile is big, bright, and the truest smile he's smiled in a long, long time. Because, suddenly, it clicks with him.
It really, really clicks.
He's alive.
He's alive.
Ryou sits in the wheelchair the nurse provided with him a few minutes earlier as he stares out of the window in the hospital hallway.
It's nothing special, the view. It's just the parking lot. Too many cars, too much dark, steaming, summer asphalt.
But, Ryou watches the panorama anyway.
It keeps his mind busy.
Because, if it's not kept busy, it'll drive Ryou mad.
Bakura isn't alive.
Well, he's half alive. Almost alive.
Almost.
He's still stuck in a coma.
Ryou came out of his, and Bakura did not.
Bakura was in worse shape than Ryou when they first arrived at the hospital early Sunday morning, broken and bloody and bruised and battered. Bakura was in such bad shape, that the doctors don't really think he'll be waking up any time soon.
Ever, actually.
Ryou closes his hazel eyes tight, feeling the tears suddenly sting, and he shakes his head. No, he is not going to cry, here, now.
He's already done enough crying.
He's already done enough moping, enough closing into himself, enough misery.
He's been at the hospital all of two weeks, the doctors making him go through therapy and last-minute procedures to make sure he's fully ready to go back into the world. During that time, everyone has visited him.
Literally, everyone.
Yugi, Joey, Tristan, Duke, Serenity, Tea, Mai, Seto and Mokuba Kaiba.
Everybody.
They've all brought him smiles and good wishes and fun, but Ryou will have none of it.
Ever since the second day after he awoke, when he first found out about Bakura's condition, Ryou can't keep his mind off of the boy lying in room 402, half-dead.
His best friend.
The most important person to him in the Universe.
He feels guilt. (Why did he get to wake up and not Bakura?)
He feels worry. (What is he supposed to even do if Bakura doesn't wake up?)
He feels hate. (Why can't he just be grateful for his second chance?)
Well, Ryou knows the answer to that last question.
Because, without Bakura, his second chance isn't worth it.
"You sure you want to do this?"
Yugi looks him dead in the eyes.
Ryou quickly looks away.
He stares at the steering wheel in front of him, instead, for a long, long time, thin hands just resting in his lap, afraid to move forward.
Ryou, he looks good.
His face isn't as pale anymore; it has some life, some color to it, now. His hazel eyes aren't as dull, dead, depressed. He's sort of trying to look on the bright side. He is alive after being dead for God knows how long, after all. He has a chance to fix things, make things okay. His body's still dreadfully skinny, however, (he has a feeling that will never go away, no matter how much food the nurses or his friends attempt to stuff him with), but he's dressed nicely. Comfortably. A tight white top and skinny jeans. Perfect summertime attire.
And now, after getting changed and gathering his things and saying goodbye to a whole staff of nurses and a couple of doctors, Ryou's sitting in Yugi's car, in the driver's seat, debating on whether or not he wants to start up the engine and drive home.
Yugi bites his lower lip. "Are you sure, Ryou? I can drive. I mean, since the accident was only, like, a month ago and you might still be sort of, like, I don't know. Traumatized? I don't want you freaking out. Maybe you should just slowly get used to being back in a car and just hang in the passenger's seat for no—"
The ignition suddenly starts up, and the engine roars to life.
Ryou gulps.
Yugi shuts up.
Slowly, Ryou reaches up his hands and wraps them around the steering wheel. As soon as the surface touches his fingers, a rush of panic flies through him, and he clenches his eyes shut.
Hard.
Flashes of that night are popping up everywhere.
There's fighting and there's Bakura and there's yelling and there's booze and there's headaches and there's sick and then there's blood and crashing and...
Ryou's eyes open, and he pulls out of the parking space.
That'll be enough of that.
Ryou's standing in his front foyer.
His front door is open behind him, spilling in clear, bright light into the shadowy, lonely home.
It feels like forever since he's been in his house. It feels…strange. Haunting, almost.
Ryou smiles.
He takes a deep, deep breath in, and he decides it's time to get a move on.
Time to start fixing things.
The first thing Ryou does is clean.
Clean, clean, clean.
He dusts and polishes every surface in the house.
He does all the laundry he possibly can.
He vacuums every room in his home.
He picks up every single piece of clutter in every single room.
And finally, Ryou plops down on his couch in his perfectly clean house, and he thinks that, really, life is so beautiful.
"You know, at first, when you wanted to go to carnival, I was kind of like, `What the hell?' But, this day's actually been…kinda fun."
Joey takes a bite of the pink, fluffycotton candy he holds in his hand, and he laughs, throwing his head back. "Dude, you have no idea how long it's been since I've had this. It's so much…" He makes a face. "…Sweeter than I remember. Almost too sweet."
Ryou smirks, and he reaches over, grabbing a small handful of the treat from the cottony mass. Plopping it into his mouth, he lets it dissolve into slippery, tasty sugar before licking his lips and replying, "Quit complaining and eat it, Joey."
Joey smiles, but it's sad, weak.
Ryou frowns. "What?" he asks, his tone dripping with obvious disappointment. He wanted this day with Joey to be fun. No sadness. No anger. No regret. Nothing. Just fun and friendship.
Joey shrugs. He begins picking at the cotton candy, again. "I dunno," he softly answers, so that Ryou almost can't hear him, "You just kinda sounded like Bakura there, is all."
There's quiet.
"I guess I kinda did, didn't I?" Ryou softly replies, finally, and quite the contrary to what Joey was thinking he'd react like, Ryou smiles, feeling a bit of happiness flutter around in his gut as memories of Bakura's sarcasm and sort of annoying but mostly adorable snappy comebacks float through his mind.
Oh, what he'd give to see Bakura again.
Joey smiles once he sees Ryou isn't upset or insulted or anything like that. "So, uh," he starts, changing the subject, his smile growing as he watches a carnival member walk by, towering over them on a pair of stilts, "What was today for, Ryou? I mean, not like I mind, but it was just kind of odd to have you call me up out of the blue and ask to spend a day with just me at the carnival that's in town."
Ryou takes a deep breath in of the surprisingly cool, mid-afternoon air. "Doesn't this remind you of the summer we all hung out together?"
Joey blinks.
"Uh, well, uhm, yeah. I guess," truth be told, the older man's a bit annoyed Ryou ignored his previous question, but he doesn't want to ruin the great atmosphere so he just pushes his feelings aside and puts on a smile, instead, "Yeah, it does." Joey takes a breath in, now, and his gaze turns toward the horizon, a far off look clouding his brown eyes, "Good memories, Ry. Great memories, actually. Amazing ones."
He turns back to his friend, and grins, and Ryou returns the gesture.
And then, Joey stuff his hands into his green hoodie's pockets, and he exhales. "And, I guess I just missed you…"
Ryou looks Joey straight in the eyes, now, and for a while, the boys just stare at each other. Joey bites his lower lip, a bit uneasy, not sure what's running through Ryou's mind. And, in what exactly is running through Ryou's mind? Well, there are those memories. Those memories, those visions, of Joey huddled in his bathroom, throwing up, miserable, furious, and hungover. There are those images of Joey looking sicker than Ryou could have ever possibly imagined, standing over his and Bakura's graves. Images that will now, never, ever, as long as Ryou can help it, come true.
Ryou swallows.
"Yeah, I guess I just missed you."
Yugi smirks.
He's sitting on Ryou's couch, arms folded in his lap. The windows next to him light up the condo's living room with a clear, bright glow. Everything is so peaceful, so pristine.
"So, Ryou, what exactly did you `need to tell me'?" he asks, his tone playful, because Ryou sounded soseriouson the phone he can't imagine what sort of drama Ryou's dealing with/thinking of/making things out to be, now.
Ryou bites his lower lip, messing with a piece of lint that's on his hoodie. For a while, he's just quiet, playing with the small ball of fluff, a million and one thoughts running through his head. Now, he feels almost embarrassed to say what he was planning on telling Yugi.
Ever since he had come back from the hospital, things had been…well, awkward between the two best friends. Yugi was there for Ryou, of course, but only because it was sort of his job. In Yugi's head, it was just a kneejerk reaction to be there for Ryou, to help him out. But the two weren't actually talking. Not really. They weren't totally friends again.
Who could blame them, though?
They did have a huge fight before the accident.
Their friendship might has well have been over.
But, Ryou, he couldn't deal with that. He couldn't deal with losing his best friend of over fifteen years. So, he had called him over today, to tell him exactly that. But now, now that Yugi's sitting in front of him, and now that Ryou's supposed to tell him what he's been rehearsing over and over in his head, the words aren't coming.
Ryou's throat feels dry as a desert, and he feels like if he were to even try to speak, the words would come out all mangled and clumsy, and Ryou would just make more of a mess of things.
Yugi frowns as he watches the thin boy in front of him, reading the uneasiness on the boy's face right away. "Ryou?" he softly urges, and at that, Ryou looks up, and he knows he just has to say it. He just has to get it over with. He looks up.
"Yugi, you're my best friend."
Silence.
"I…I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. For what I said to you…" Ryou's face turns down in shame, and he swallows. "I'm so sorry."
For a while, Yugi just watches Ryou, his lips set in a line, his eyes thoughtful. Ryou feels the worry dance around in his gut; what if Yugi won't accept his apology?
And then, a huge grin overtakes the Yugi's face, and Ryou feels a wave of relief wash over him.
Yugi reaches forward, now, and he pulls his best friend into a big, big hug. "Ry, it's okay." He smiles again, softly, and Ryou swallows tears, holding Yugi tightly back. "It's okay…"
And that's the end of that.
Ryou takes a sip of his steaming hot tea, and settles back into his office desk chair.
In front of him is the computer screen.
Heeey Tristan!
What's up, man? We haven't hung out in, like, forever. Seriously. I miss you. ;D haha. gimmie a call and we can meet up sometime, yeah?
-Ry
Ryou smiles and hits "send."
Duke Devlin reaches forward and messes with a strand of hair sticking up from Ryou's head.
Ryou shakes his head now, chuckling lightly and staring down at his milkshake. A silence arises, and Ryou swallows. There's nothing but the quiet chatter of the restaurant's few other customers and the clank and clatter of dishes in the kitchen being moved about.
Duke, across the table, takes a big breath in.
"You know, I'm really glad you're okay, Ryou."
His voice is soft, grateful. But, there's this hint of far-off sadness.
Ryou looks up.
The sunset outside is spilling in gorgeous golden-orange rays, and they're shining beautifully on everything around. Duke's handsome face is lit up, and Ryou looks right in his green eyes that are sparkling from the sun, and he sees that flutter of desperation. He sees that flutter of terror, of fear. He sees a flash of the Duke he saw in the Afterlife, the Duke that would have lost it once he lost his best friends. The Duke that so desperately loves him and Bakura and every other soul that he holds dear so much that he wouldn't be able to function, no, be complete without them. He sees how unbelievably grateful Duke is to God or the Universe or Fate or whoever spared his life.
He swallows.
With that simple sentence, Ryou can see all of that.
And then, Ryou speaks. He replies to Duke, and a small, small smile lights up his lips. The words slide through the older's ears, and then Duke finds himself smiling, too.
"I am too, Duke. I am, too."
It's right there.
Right in front of him.
Room 402.
The door looks like any other hospital door. It's wood; simple wood, nothing special. Light brown. A small, rectangular window is right in the middle so that doctors and nurses and whoever else might want to can peek in.
To anybody else, it's nothing special.
But to Ryou?
That door means everything.
That door means everything, because it leads to Bakura's room.
Ryou hasn't seen Bakura for a month and a half.
He didn't see the boy when he was actually in the hospital, two floors away. He didn't see the boy before he left the hospital. He hasn't seen the boy in the past six weeks.
He can't.
He doesn't know why, but he just can't.
Yugi and Joey and even Duke had gone to visit him, and brought him news whenever they saw Ryou next.
It was always the same.
Bakura was never better, never worse.
Still unconscious, sitting in that bed, in that room, behind that door.
Ryou swallows.
He clenches his hands tightly, so tight, they almost turn white. He takes a deep, deep, shaky breath in, and he closes his eyes tight and prays that this will turn out okay. That he'll be able to do this.
And then, he walks forward, and he opens the door.
Once he does, and once he sees what's in that room, he feels his stomach lurch and his body begin to shake and his eyes burn with tears.
Bakura lies there, pale as snow and stick thin, big brown eyes closed. Ryou wonders if they'll ever open again. The room is all white - all white, and it makes Ryou dizzy. Makes Ryou sick. (He makes a mental note to bring in flowers later, to brighten things up.) Bakura's body is clothed in a typical hospital gown, and from what Ryou can see, it barely fits his emaciated form. His arms, both poked with IVs, are lying motionless by his sides, his chest moving up and down the tiniest bit with his weak, staggered breaths. The incessant beeping of the heart monitor to the right is the only noise in the room.
Ryou swallows, trying not to pass out or get sick or even both.
Slowly, so slowly, the boy takes one step forward, his hazel eyes never leaving Bakura's form.
The one thing repeating over and over in his head is…
This is your fault.
Ryou runs forward.
He falls to the ground, and he feels the hard, white tile slam against his knees. He buries his face in the mattress, and he shakes his head over and over and over again. He laces his fingers with Bakura's cold ones, and he prays to God this beautiful, broken boy will wake up.
And, he sobs.
He sobs and sobs and sobs.
And while he's sobbing, he's speaking.
His words are clumsy and hard to understand through his cries, but at least he's saying them.
"I-I-I'm sorry, Bakura. I-I'm s-so s-sorry. Oh, G-God, 'Kura. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You're my best friend. You mean everything to me. I…"
And suddenly, Ryou stops.
There's silence, again, but for the beeping of the machines.
Ryou's head is going in circles.
His heart is pounding a million miles a minute.
He looks up slowly.
His red, puffy eyes and his tear-stained gaze land on Bakura's still form.
The words are on the tip of his tongue.
He knows know that, no matter how much, no matter for how long he'd been trying to deny them, they're the truth. The absolute truth.
It's terrifying, to say the least.
Terrifying, amazing, mind-blowing.
He opens his mouth.
He finishes speaking.
"I-I love you."
R&R =]
