Holy shit I actually wrote another oneshot!
But this one is so freaking LONG. I mean... Gah.
I know a lot of people have reservations about fics that take place at the end of the series. This was just an idea - it isn't a theory or an idea, or anything. It was just... Something that sorta popped into my head. So no one like, flame me and go all 'omg you got is so wrong how could you!!11!1'
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Well, a couple of shit characters and stuff but WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO HUH!?
Seriously. Don't sue me.
Sometimes I wonder if I made the right decision.
Usually, this 'wondering' occurs at some ungodly hour of the night, when I'm lying awake in bed, staring at the way shadows play against the peeling grey wall paper, listening to the heavy English rain pattering against the windows.
But confusion and fear, and the crushing sense of loneliness can attack at any given time, day or night. On the bus, at the supermarket, on the street, the shrink... It's like I'm shell shocked. I suppose I am, really. I was – am – emotionally and psychologically traumatised after it happened.
And the worst part is there's no one to blame, but myself.
I chose to betray Yugi and the others. I chose to put Bakura first, to do his bidding. I chose to reject their friendship for Bakura's...
Bakura's...
It is even called love?
Looking back, I don't think it was. If it was love he wouldn't have hurt me the way he did.
If I knew what I did now, that Bakura only wanted my compliance, that he never actually cared about me, and was only manipulating my devotion, turning it into something he cold use to get what he wanted, would I have still done it?
In the end, all we had was a few weeks 'together', before Bakura got cocky and called the Memory game. For those few weeks I sacrificed my education, my friends, my home, my father...
Was it worth it?
...
Yes, it was. And I know how selfish, self-centred and horrible that sounds. But it was, to me.
Ryou awakes from a fitful sleep a few minutes before ten. He'd finally managed to sink into a fitful slumber just after sunrise – or at least, what could be seen of it through the English rain – and was awoken startlingly from a truck honking on the street below him.
Ryou arches his back in a yawn, stretching, before rubbing sleepily at his eyes, and heaving himself out of the sagging single mattress and shuffling across the bare wooden floors. In the bathroom, Ryou takes out the box of anti-depressants from the bathroom cabinet, staring at the squat blue writing. After a few moments of hesitation, he downs two pills with half a glass of water.
He knows he shouldn't take two, but one alone isn't working.
"Good morning."
"Mmm."
His hair is out of place as he sits on the blue folding chair, in front of a cool-looking young woman, who's gaze is focused on a computer monitor.
"All right... Have you got a form of I.D for me?" As Ryou throws his British passport down on the oak-coloured veneer, the woman pulls out an A4 sized sheet of paper, slowly starting to fill it out with a blue biro. She opens his passport, flicking through the Japanese, English, and Arabic lettering, a record of Ryou's travels, to the back page, where Ryou's I.D is located. In the picture, he is twelve. He is not smiling. The haunting brown eyes of the young boy sends a chill down the womans' spine. "Thank you." She sets down the passport without looking at it again, and signs a dotted line at the bottom. "There you go." Ryou doesn't nod, taking his passport and the piece of paper. He keeps his eyes on the carpet, away from the sheet in the hand. He has seen it many times before.
It is a food voucher, worth forty pounds, redeemable only at the Sainsbury's four blocks down from his apartment.
He hovers in the bakery section, staring at a six-pack of jelly filled doughnuts. They are on special, one-pound-fifty, and would do enough for a couple of meals. The plastic basket dangles off his left arm, containing a pack of sausages, a carton of milk, a loaf of white bread, four cups of ramen, a kilogram of sugar, a packet of frozen peas, a macaroni meal in a carton, and a half a kilo of frozen French fries. It is very heavy on his skinny little arm. He still has to buy some peanut butter, soap, garbage bags, dishwashing liquid, and potato crisps, amongst other things.
Ryou vicariously stacks the thin plastic container atop the frozen peas, and turns towards the Health and Hygiene aisle, his extremely worn trainers squeaking on the white linoleum.
The bus is crowded.
Ryou bits his lip, and looks down at his shoes, clinging tightly to three plastic bags. He is jostled slightly, as he steps on to the bus, digging around in his pocket for change. He knows it is just a short walk, but feels too tired. Instead, sixty-pence is dropped into the round plastic dish.
Ryou manages to find a seat, pressing himself against the window. His food rests on his lap, which he encircles with bony arms. He reads the label on the back of his cereal.
If he distracts himself enough, he can banish Bakura's face from his mind.
"Hi Ryou."
The twenty-year-old drops down onto the couch, one hand clutching the angular cream receiver. The other picks absentmindedly at a hole in the faded upholstery.
"Hi." His voice sounds raspy, unused. He winces, and clears his throat.
"I'm coming to your neighbourhood to see a friend." There is a tremor in the womans' voice. Ryou knows the 'friend' she is referring to. "Can you watch Amane for a couple of hours?"
"... Okay." Ryou obeys, feeling neither happy, nor sad at the prospect. "Do I have to make lunch?"
"That would help." She sounds grateful. "Thanks Ryou."
"She's my daughter." Ryou's voice is shockingly flat. "I have to watch her sometimes."
He has five pounds to buy her a toy.
It is a luxury, he knows, and doubtlessly, he will regret it later, but Ryou also feels it as his duty as a father.
He wanders the girls' section, self-worth dropping as the prices grew. He finally settled on a small pink plastic pony, with a flowing mane of sparkly purple. There is a brush to match, and some multi-coloured ribbons. He is unsure if his daughter likes horses, but settles on the pony anyway.
It is eight pounds. Ryou stares down at his shoes, shoulders slumping. New trainers would have to wait another week.
Every time he sees her, Ryou realises how increasingly similar Amane looks to her dead Auntie. She shares her likeness's nose, chin, and face shape. But her big, haunting brown eyes are a plain tribute to Ryou. And her long, blonde curls belong to her mother.
"I'll pick her up at three." A worn-looking young woman sets down the little girl, who stares up at her father with solemn, brown eyes.
"I have to see the doctor at three-thirty." Ryou's voice trembles slightly.
"You sick?" She takes a drag of her cigarette, smoke curling lazily in the air, before fragmenting, dispersing.
"The anti-depressants aren't strong enough." Ryou watches the smoke, the familiar ache rising through him. He is trying to quit.
"Oh." The girl brushes hair out of eyes. Hair she has dyed an even brighter shade of blonde, and straightens daily, the ends frayed and split. "... What if they chuck you away?" She has to ask, for her daughters' sake. The recently attained knowledge that mental disorders can be genetic has frightened her.
"Probably will." Ryou shrugs, listless. Sometimes he thinks that a psych. ward would be a better option than sitting around a shoebox apartment day in, day out, on welfare, unable to work, drive a car, or drink alcohol.
"She's got it." The girl flicks the ash onto the hallway carpet, jerking her head down towards Amane. "She's not right, Ryou."
"She's fine." Ryou's hands curl into fists. He knows she isn't, he understands the turbulence whirling behind his daughters' wide brown eyes, but he couldn't stand admitting it to himself, or anyone. He wants to put it off as long as possible. Besides, no one could help a three-year-old, not properly.
"Ryou, she-"
"Don't you have a client to fuck?" Ryou overrides the girl he shared just one night with, teeth gritted. Opposite him, the blonde is smouldering.
"Fuck you." She hisses narrowing her eyes, which are thickly rimmed in goopy black eyeliner. "At least I'm working." Ryou merely shrugs, not rising to the bait. He doesn't care what the girl says – she doesn't understand. The only person in the world who really understood Ryou's mental turmoil lives in Egypt with his adopted brother.
"Whatever." He sighs, and reaches forward, taking Amane's hand. The wrist is very thin. Ryou feels sick. "You're not feeding her enough."
"I'm trying." The girls' voice catches in her throat. "Ryou, I can't look after her anymore, I-"
"I can't take her." It breaks Ryou's heart to say it, it really does. But he knows he can't even look after himself, let alone a small child with such a fragile psyche. "I thought your sister-"
"Her boyfriend doesn't want her in the house." The girl turns. "I'll be back later." Ryou pulls Amane in, and closes the door. He notices Amane is crying, tears rolling down rounded, pale cheeks.
"I don't like my Aunty." She whimpers in her soft, high little voice. "I don't wanna stay with her..."
"You won't, honey." Although his weakened arms strained with the effort, Ryou lifts the little girl in his arms. She buries her nose in his neck. He feels bad for making Amane watch her parents fight. "Do you want some lunch? I have jelly filled doughnuts."
A little head of blonde curls nods.
"Hello, Doctor Woodhaven."
"Ah, Ryou! I was wondering why you're so late..."
"I have Amane." Ryou stares at the little girl, who is sitting on the threadbare rug, beside the tiny electric heater. She is combing the pony's glittery hair.
"Where's her mother? I really wanted to see you, Ryou. You missed out last week, too..."
"I know. I'm sorry." Ryou sighs, and looks at the clock that hangs over the television. It is quarter-past-four. "I don't know where she is."
"All right." There is a long sigh on the other end. "Ryou... Is there anything that you wanted to talk about at all? We need to have a discussion."
"... Yes, there was." Ryou lowers his voice. He doesn't want his daughter to hear. "I'm having sleeping troubles again. I haven't been able to get to sleep before three for the past week. And I'm still getting anxiety attacks. I need my dosage increased."
"Ryou... I'm not sure I can do that. Medication gets to a point where if you have to take so much of it, then a psychiatric ward is recommended. You are very, very close to that point, Ryou."
"I know." Ryou traces a shapeless pattern on the arm of the sofa. "And doc... Um..."
"Yes? What is it?"
"Last Saturday... I bought a bottle of arsenic. I wanted to take it. I poured half of it into a glass and everything." He doesn't want to admit to this most recent contemplation of suicide, but he knows that he cannot keep it bottled up. On the other end of the phone, there is a long, long sigh.
"Ryou... I'm going to pencil you in for an appointment with me first thing tomorrow morning. I want you in my office at eight o'clock sharp. No excuses."
"All right." Something unpleasant squirms in Ryou's stomach, and he stares down at his hand. "I'll see you then."
Amane imitated the sound of a horse neighing.
It is eleven o'clock when Ryou hears the sound of a firm knocking at his door. Amane is asleep in his bed, one hand tightly clutching her newest toy, aptly named 'Princess'.
Ryou is watching a rerun of Midsomer Murders. He sighs, and stands up, trying to stretch out a cramp in his lower back. Slowly, he turns the door, expecting to see the mother of his child standing on the threshold, full of excuses, and perhaps haughty words about some customers being trouble.
"Ryou Bakura?" Ryou's breath catches in his throat at the sight of a policeman at his front door, and the uttering of Bakura only heightens his sense of instability. He pulls the door open, and lets the tall man step in. The policeman takes off his hat.
"I understand you are the father of Amane Bakura?" Ryou nods, something growing cold in his stomach. Subconsciously, he has put two-and-two together, but he doesn't want to believe the worst. "Once-partner of Adriana Willowpark?" Amane's mother.
"Yes." Ryou's voice is shaking, and he stares at his closed bedroom door. There is sadness in the mans' eyes.
"I'm so sorry for your loss." Ryou closes his eyes, hanging onto the doorknob for support. He never particularly liked the girl – if it wasn't for Amane, she would have been out of his life the morning after the horrible, wonderful night of alcohol, drugs, and lust, that ended in Amane's conception – but never wished her dead. "We found Adriana's body in... In a dumpster in Southampton at about six o'clock. Her sister Elizabeth has formally identified the body. I understand that you have current guardianship of Amane?"
"Yes." Ryou whispers. Sympathetically, the policeman pulls out a wobbling chair from the card table, and takes Ryou's shoulders, guiding him to the seat. "Sh-She's asleep..."
"Ah." The policeman sighs. "Ryou, you were the last person to see Adriana alive, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to take you down to the station for formal questioning."
"But Amane... Who can watch her?" Ryou is distraught, his mind whirling in a million directions. "... I know it sounds unorthodox, but can she come with me?"
"I... But she is asleep..."
"No, she's not." Ryou manages to stand up, and shakily makes his way across the tiny room, opening the bedroom door. In an old shirt of Ryou's of blue and white stripes, a makeshift nightgown, Amane stands in the doorway. Her cheeks are streaked with tears. She knows. Ryou's stomach grows colder. Three years old, and his daughter understood the concept of death. He wondered what she could see.
"Mum." She managed to gasp, before flinging herself into Ryou's open arms, dissolving into inconsolable sobs.
Ryou is finally able to watch the sunrise.
To the east, the sky was clear... Ish. Brilliant beams of gold and orange brushed the heavy grey clouds, which had withdrawn, retreating into the cool violet of the fading night sky. In Ryou's arms, his daughter slept, blonde curls tangled and matted, eyes red and swollen. She refused to let anyone but Ryou touch her, not even the Care officer, to agreed to watch Amane at home whilst Ryou was answering questions in the station. She screamed and kicked when they tried to split the Bakura's apart, clinging to Ryou's shirt like a limpet, sobbing uncontrollably.
Ryou didn't cry. He has had enough of crying. Instead, the feeling of dull emptiness he had constantly experienced since Bakura's death had increased a little. And he is full of worries, and fear. He knows he is incapable of looking after Amane. Ryou, who spends hours of every day staring into space, has panic attacks at random moments in life where he cannot breathe or speak, can't sleep properly, and goes through his day like a zombie on sedatives, could never take care of a three-year-old.
Ryou's father hates him. Ever since he found about Ryou's true sexuality, his relationship with a male, he disowned his son, cutting off all familial, emotional, and financial ties to Ryou. He hadn't even seen Amane yet. Ryou sent him some photographs of his granddaughter in the hospital, the day she was born, but they were returned to him, unopened.
Adriana's sister, Elizabeth, is just eighteen. She has a job as a receptionist at a used car dealership. She has a serious boyfriend. There is no way she would take on the responsibilities of a child. And Ryou couldn't put the burden on her. It is unreasonable.
Adriana's parents are dead. Ryou has no other relatives, save his disowning father. Ryou has no friends, no acquaintances, even. Adriana's friends were all prostitutes and crackheads. There was no way Ryou trusted his child to any of them.
Ryou didn't trust foster care. Not after his brief stay as a child, when, after the death of his mother and sister, Ryou's father was struck with depression so severe he was unable to take care of his remaining child. Ryou was beaten, and abused severely in the 'Home' that he stayed in for a few endless months, and still carries unspoken, horrific internal scars from his terrifying ordeal.
There is no option. Ryou looks down at the sleeping child, one hand entwined tightly with her fathers'. He has to try.
"God Ryou, you look awful."
"Adriana was killed last night." Amane is sitting in the waiting room, staring at a few sheets of paper and a handful of crayons that have been laid out for her, unmoving. The door is open a crack, in case she wants to come in. Woodhaven looks at Ryou over his spectacles.
"Did you sleep?" Ryou shakes his head. The doctor sighs, and writes something down on his clipboard. "Can you take off your shoes and step on the scales for me?" He points to the corner of the room. Ryou nods, kick off his fraying trainers, and pads across the shag pile in once-white socks. Woodhaven stands up as Ryou gets on the scales, and comes up behind Ryou to take note of the figure.
"Forty-six kilograms." It is a frightening number. "Ryou, you've lost two kilos since I've seen you last." Ryou shrugs hopelessly, and sits back down in the seat. He curls up in the arm chair, wrapping his arms around his legs. It is no secret – Woodhaven is clearly worried about his youngest patient.
"There's no one else to look after Amane." Ryou swallows, and stares at the ground. "O-Otherwise, I-I would go to a psych. unit..."
"No friends or family?" Ryou shakes his head hopelessly, his eyes stinging for the first time in years. "What about foster care-"
"NO!" Ryou shouts out, eyes widening. "H-how could you say that! You know what they did to me! There's no way I'm putting her through that!"
"... What about your emotional bond?" Woodhaven wrote another note on his board. "Ryou... Are you not at all upset about the prospect of letting her go?"
"I-I don't know..." Ryou breaths, the burning in his eyes increasing. "I can't... It's like I can't feel anything. E-Everything is just so completely... Numb."
"... Okay." Woodhaven sets his clipboard down, and surveys the twenty-year-old man in front of him. "Ryou, look at yourself."
"I-I know, I-"
"No. I want you to actually step back and take a look at yourself." The man says gently. "You're coming apart, Ryou. You're slowly breaking down. You're not in a state to look after yourself, let alone your daughter."
"B-But I have to!" Ryou's breath is catching in his throat, which seems stuck with a big lump. "N-No one else is able to do it... I-I have to look after her. I'm her father!"
"Ryou." Woodhaven sighs. "Do you love her?" Ryou sniffs, and looks at his doctor.
"Yes, I do... I think." Ryou lowers his gaze to his hands. "I don't even know what love is anymore. But, whatever it is... It's what I'm feeling for Amane. It's just under a lot of stuff. But it's there. I swear it is."
"Ryou... it doesn't matter if you're her father or not. If you don't love her, then having her stay with you... it's cruel. She needs love."
"I-I will love her. I do love her." Ryou's vision is wobbling. His heart thuds in his chest, of fear, misery, and a deep, undeterminable, ancient, agony. "I-I just... oh God, I need Bakura." Ryou breaks down into sobs, crying for the first time in years. The doctor watches, perfectly still, as Ryou rests his head in folded arms, gasping for air as he sobs. His fingers are curled into the thin fabric of his shirt. A few moments later, the door creaks as it is slowly pushed open, and a thin figure dressed in shades of pastel pink runs across the room, and painstakingly climbs into the armchair, beside Ryou. Amane wraps her little arms around Ryou's neck, standing up to do so. Woodhaven closes his eyes for a moment. Finally, Ryou is able to control his tears, and he lifts his head, feet flat on the floor again. Amane curls up in his lap. The doctor continues as if nothing has happened.
"I'm going to write you a prescription for stronger anti-depressants." Woodhaven rubs at his temples. "I am going to give you a month. In one month, if you haven't gotten yourself into a state where you can look after yourself and Amane, then I'm putting you in a psych. ward, and Amane will go into foster care." Ryou is still for a long moment, then nods, gripping the little girl in his lap life a lifeline.
"Your three-year-old daughter cannot be the one to console you Ryou." The man said sternly. "You have to get a grip on reality, before you lose yourself completely."
"I want to go to the park."
Ryou lifts his head up from the cushion, and sighs. Amane looks up from her doll, that her mother had bought for her just a month before, hopefully.
"Later." Ryou mumbles, burying his head back into the couch cushion. He pulls the blanket up higher around himself. So this is what it was like to feel totally empty.
And yet, Ryou still feels no pity for himself. He's backed himself up against the edge of a giant cliff, making some irreparable choices, leaving him almost insane with grief, depression, and loneliness.
And right now, the mere memory of Bakura seems enough to push him over.
"Are you hungry?"
Ryou pulls open the fridge door as a little blonde mop of curls nods eagerly. Bleary-eyed, he stares at it's contents. Nothing. Nothing Amane could eat, anyways. Time to use a last resort. "How about a jelly doughnut?"
"For dinner?" Her high little voice rises a whole octave in delight. Ryou nods, and pulls out the last doughnut, tipping it unceremoniously onto a plastic plate. He hands the plate to Amane, who takes it eagerly, and runs to the little 'tea party' she has set up. Ryou leans against the fridge door, fighting back tears.
Ryou wants to crawl into the oven, turn it on high, and shut the door.
"Good... Oh."
"Yes." Ryou sits down, pulls Amane onto his lap. The little girl rests into his collarbone, staring at a point in the universe no one else could apparently see. "Her um... Her mother passed, a week ago. I was wondering... There must be like, a child support, or an increased benefit or allowance I could get from this... I have all her documents, birth certificate and stuff. I can prove I'm the father."
"No, that's okay." She was certainly her fathers son – she had those horrible wide brown eyes, that expressed more emotions that one could think possible. "But I will need her birth certificate. Have you got the mothers death certificate?" Ryou shakes his head. "All right. I can get a copy." The man nodded, wrapping his arms around Amane's lap. "Um, I can put you on the waiting list for another state house if you're after something bigger..."
"A flat with two bedrooms would be nice." Ryou said gratefully, sounding bland, disjointed. His eyes seemed out of focus.
"Um, I can sign you up for an added child support allowance, Ryou, but that'll only give you an extra twenty pounds a week."
"All right." Ryou's voice sounds flat, a monotone.
"And If I'm correct, your food voucher will be increased to fifty pounds."
"All right." Ryou repeats. He feels numb to everything the woman is saying.
It would terrify him, if he could feel it.
Amane's screaming wakes Ryou up.
The high, frightened sound fills Ryou's hears, from the lounge, and he springs out of bed, stumbling over the floorboards as he pushes open the bedroom door, eyes swivelling to the bed set up in the corner of the lounge. Amane is buried under the covers, visibly trembling.
"Amane, honey..." Ryou approaches the bed. He thinks that it is a nightmare. "What's wrong?"
"D-Dad!" Amane's voice is muffled. She refuses to leave the safety of her blankets. "Help!"
"Amane, what's going on?" He doesn't know what to do, and places a hand on the little lump under the covers. She is shaking harder than ever.
"Make him go away!" Amane screams tearfully. Ryou blinks, and looks around. No one is in the room, apart from them.
"No one's here." Ryou pulls at the covers. "Amane, you had a nightmare." A little blonde-topped head peels out at him. Tears are running down Amane's cheeks.
"No." She shakes her head resolutely. "I-I saw someone in a dream over my bed... I-I woke up and he was still there..."
"You could see something?" Ryou's heart beats a little faster in panic, and he casts a look to the window, and the door. The girl shakes her head again, frustrated.
"No... I felt him." Her lower lip trembles, and she buries her face into Ryou's shirt. "S-Standing over the bed... I-It was so scary..."
He still believes that it is a nightmare. He doesn't understand how sensitive his daughter is, how much of her fathers spiritual intuition she has inherited.
It is exactly fourteen days since the death of Adriana.
Amane is watching a preschool show on the television, sunlight streaming through the windows. Ryou is asleep, taking an afternoon nap. He now takes a lot of naps, sometimes for over an hour. Amane doesn't mind, however. She likes to sit by herself in the quiet. She likes to listen to things, things that other people cannot hear.
Someone has knocked at the door. Still in her pyjamas (Ryou said that at 'home days', Amane can wear her pyjamas all day. It delights her), the blonde bounded across the room, and stood on her tip-toes to open the door.
"Hello?" She asks, somewhat breathlessly as she manages to successfully open the door. The strangest man she has ever seen stands upon the threshold. She cannot stop staring at his hair.
Yugi's breath catches in his throat as he stares at the little girl who has just greeted him. It is obvious, in her face and skin, and eyes, that she is Ryou's child. How is it possible, that Ryou already has a baby girl, at his age? He could not yet be twenty-one.
"Hello." He catches himself, and smiles. "My name is Yugi. I'm here to see your Dad. Is he home?"
"Yup." She nodded, blonde curls, that Ryou will absentmindedly twist around his finger while she is asleep, bouncing. "But he's having a nap right now, sorry..."
"Well, can you wake him up please?" Yugi asked politely. She is a little darling, he thinks, as she nods reluctantly, and runs across the room, pulling open the door that leads into the bedroom and slipping in. Yugi closes the door behind himself, and sighs. This is what Ryou Bakura has become. The flat is small, the main room managing to contain a kitchen, a card table with a few chairs, and a couch and television. In the corner, a bed has been set up, with a pale pink coverlet. The scene is sad, and Yugi's insides twist with guilt. This is partly his fault.
"Amane, can you slow down your talking? What do you mean, weird hair? I- Oh god."
"H-Hi, Ryou." Yugi smiles weakly, as Ryou stops still, holding his hands over his mouth. Tears swim in Ryou's eyes, and before he can damn the floor, he bursts into tears, shoulders shaking, as all the memories, the pain and heartache and betrayal, comes rushing back like an awful wave of despair.
"Hey! Don't make Daddy cry." Amane pouts, a frown on her cute features.
"I'm sorry." Yugi apologizes, before rushing to Ryou's side, able to take his appearance in detail. There is no way about it – Ryou looks absolutely awful. Despite his copious amounts of sleep, dark rings circle under Ryou's eyes, and the skin underneath is baggy, and wrinkled. His cheeks are hollow, and Yugi can see that Ryou's arms are far too thin to be healthy. There is no colour in Ryou's cheeks. "Ryou... Please, stop crying..."
"H-How did you find me?" Ryou sniffs, finally able to have some control over his tears. "I-I don't understand... Why are you here? Please don't yell at me..."
"I'm not going to yell." Yugi decides to set Ryou down on the couch. The white-haired man does so, shaking madly. "I just... I thought that we should talk."
"It's been four years." Ryou sniffed pathetically, his eyes still leaking, nose red and stuffy. "Wh-What is there to say? Y-You hate me..."
"No." Yugi shuffles in his seat, uneasy with the little girl watching him intently, mistrustfully.
"Amane." Ryou saves the other man. "How about you take your dolls and play in my room for a little while okay?" There is a tone, something in Ryou's voice, and Amane nods silently, and collects up her favourite toys, taking them into the bedroom, and shutting the door.
"Why are you here, Yugi?" Ryou asks again, wanting to get down to the nitty gritty. It is so shocking, so surprising, and unexpected, to see Yugi turn up on his doorstep.
"I... I wanted to talk to you." Yugi murmurs, staring down at his folded hands. "Ryou, I never wanted to abandon you. Even when I found out that you only pretended to be our friend because it was what the Spirit of the Ring wanted."
"I wasn't pretending." Ryou interjects, half pleadingly, half stubbornly. "I liked you, Yugi. I really did want to be your friend, Puzzle or not..."
"I know that." Yugi sighs. "Look, let me explain. It was ignorance, more than anything. I was unable to comprehend why you would want to risk anything for someone so evil. I didn't understand that you were in love with him. If I knew that you felt so strongly for him, I would have argued in your defence. I really would have, Ryou."
"Th-Thanks." Ryou sniffs weakly, his heart lightening, just a little. Words will not bring Bakura back. "I appreciate it."
"Losing Atemu was the worst pain I've ever been through." Yugi's voice catches in his throat, and his knuckles are white. "Worse than losing my father. Worse than everything else I have encountered. When he passed... I felt like a part of my soul, my being, had been ripped out, and I would never be whole again, until he returned."
"That's how I felt." Ryou's voice is hoarse. "Feel."
"And then... When I was able to think past the grief and pain, I realised something... I knew that Atemu loved me and cared about me. I knew that he would never forget about me, wherever he is. And I got to say goodbye." Tears roll down Ryou's cheeks. Yugi's own eyes are stinging. "And... You never got any of that." Ryou shakes his head, rubbing at his eyes. "You were just knocked out, and when you woke up, he was gone, without any explanation, or farewell, or... Anything. You never knew if he felt anything for you. You never knew if he regarded you higher than a pawn, or puppet, if he was using you or his feelings were genuine." Yugi sighed deeply. "And Ryou... for that, I feel so sorry for you. No one else can understand what it's like to give everything, your entire physical being to someone. To be willing to share your heart and body and soul... and to have that thrown back in your face and be abused must be the worst pain the world..."
"It was." Ryou whispers tearfully. "U-Until he d-d-died..."
"And then... Malik told us that you had a deal with him that no one else knew about. About how if you helped Bakura, and gave yourself to him willingly, and followed his orders, when he gained all seven items, he would bring your mother and sister back to life... Ryou, we didn't know about that."
"W-We-Well, it doesn't matter, does it?" Ryou wipes at his eyes. "B-because they're all dead and gone now... Everyone..."
"Ryou." Yugi holds his hand for a moment, squeezes it, and lets go. "Listen to me. Malik only told me about this two years ago. When he did, I told Jounouchi, and Honda, and Anzu, and they all agreed that that changed a lot." Ryou sniffs again. "Jou said that if Serenity was killed, he would betray the world twice over to bring her back."
"H-he did?" Ryou breathes weakly. Yugi nods. "W-Wow..."
"Family runs deeper than friendship, no matter what Anzu says." Yugi smiles weakly. Ryou realises for the first time how tall he has grown, how much his voice has deepened. "I've never had a sister. I can't even imagine how much losing her would hurt."
"I-It did." Ryou nods, his voice wobbling worse than ever. "I-I still can't think of Amane without pain..."
"And then, I realised that it was Atemu who was so angry at you." Yugi's voice catches in his throat at the thought of his darker half. "He didn't think like me. Like us. All he could see was that the Spirit of the Ring was evil, and anyone who did his bidding was evil, and therefore, and instant enemy of his."
"But..." Ryou sighs. "He... He forgave Malik, didn't he?" Yugi nods.
"Yes, but remember? That took a really long time. He wasn't around long enough to make it up to you. He would have forgiven you, if he had the time."
"Really?" Ryou asks hopefully. Yugi nods again. Ryou smiles, actually smiles, for the fist time since he was sixteen, and his heart feels a little lighter – a good part of the guilt on his chest has washed away.
"Yes... Ryou, we were horrible to you. We said all sorts of awful things to you... and they were completely uncalled for. We were so blind to see that you really cared about the Spirit. That it wasn't just a teenage thing or something."
"Yugi, you didn't-"
"We practically threw you out of the country!" Yugi sighs, leaning against the beaten sofa. "There's no excuse for that. You were hurting, so much, and all we did was give you the cold shoulder. No wonder you're so..."
"Frayed?" Ryou suggests. Yugi nods, satisfied with the analogy. "But I deserve it. All this pain and misery... I brought it upon myself. I-I can't pity myself, not when I'm the one to blame."
"What? No!" Yugi is shocked. "How... Ryou, you're not at fault at this! You were a teenager in love with the prospect of having your sister and mother alive again! And not only that, you were manipulated by someone stronger than you. No one blames you for this anymore!"
"If it wasn't for me, you would have had so fewer problems." Ryou murmurs. "Remember the shadow game? Back in Duelist Kingdom? He told me to do that. I had to pretend to be nice and assimilate myself with you guys. I didn't want to lie to you guys..."
"Ryou-"
"O-Or what about Battle city?" Ryou's voice raises a little. "Wh-When I had to lie to you guys so many times..."
"Ryou!" Yugi is unable to take any more, and he grabs Ryou's shoulders, forcing the two to stare eye to eye. "Please. I'm trying to apologize and forgive you, you idiot." Ryou nibbles on his lower lip. "Ryou, look at yourself. You're not well. I can see that. Your daughter can see that. Malik told me how depressed you are. Please, let me help."
"I-I..." Ryou sighs. "I... Yugi... I don't know what to say..."
"Then, don't say anything." The taller male rests a hand on Ryou's shoulder. "Let me, let us help you. Think of it as a way to say sorry."
"D-do you really want to help me?" Ryou sniffs weakly. Yugi nods. Ryou know that he needs the help. Desperately. The breakdown in his psychiatrists office two weeks ago is clear proof that his sanity is crumbling. He knows he cannot face this alone, the terrible loss that every day, that still felt like a fresh open wound. Ryou is relieved that he no longer has to carry the guilt, Yugi was forgiven him for that, and Ryou is grateful beyond words. But... What about Bakura? Ryou wants desperately to know how he could stop the heart-wrenching grief, of Bakura's death. But how could Yugi know? He loved his dark side, but like a brother. Ryou found romance in Bakura. Romance and passion and love that he thinks he can never regain with anyone else. Although he may not have felt the same way, Bakura was –is- the love of Ryou's life. Ryou leans against the couch, wiping repeatedly at his face. Yugi stares down at his hands. He wonders if he should tell Ryou was Malik told him three years ago. He is sworn to ultimate secrecy, under pain of death, to never, ever tell Ryou that Bakura wasn't exactly dead. He wants to. He burns to tell Ryou. He imagines the hope in Ryou's eyes, watching his expression light up, and real, actual emotion flood those awful empty brown eyes.
But, as much as he wants to, Yugi knows that he cannot. Not just because he has a promise with Malik – no, he would be willing to break that if it meant Ryou was happy. But because of the ideas Ryou was to get. If Ryou knew that Bakura was alive, then he would try and get him, wouldn't he? It would have never been a good idea, but now that he has a daughter – that not even Malik knows about, apparently, it changed everything. Ryou has to move on. He has to try and repair that shattered pieces of his heart for his child.
"Ryou, I didn't realise that you were in so much trouble." Yugi bites his lip. "I didn't know you had a child you couldn't handle. I didn't understand how much you were hurting..."
"But... You went through the same thing." Ryou mumbles, almost accusingly. "Y-You understood..."
"I didn't compare what I had with Atemu to what you had with your Spirit. I didn't think to. I was ignorant. Ryou, I'm so sorry. But I can't just sit back and watch you run your life into the ground anymore. I should have done this earlier, and I'm so sorry that I haven't."
"D-don't be sorry." Ryou played with the fraying hem of his shirt sleeve. "I'm the one that betrayed you for someone who didn't love me. I'm the stupid one."
"You're not stupid." Yugi says gently. "You just believe in love. There's nothing wrong with that... Ryou, come back to Japan with me. I run the Game Shop, and Jou rooms with me. You can too. She can even have a room for herself, I can arrange something somewhere."
"Y-Yugi... That's too nice.. I-I can't accept that..." Ryou looks down. Yugi sighs.
"Yes, you can. And you will, 'cos I'm not taking no for an answer. I know you won't let Malik help you, but I'm more stubborn than him. And you're coming to Japan. Look at yourself. You're sick. And pumping your body full of drugs isn't going to make you feel better. What'll make you feel better is being with people who understand your anguish and try to make it better."
"Yugi..."
"It'll be safer for your child, Domino." Yugi says gravely. "So much safer than the mean streets of London. Don't be stupid Ryou, you know that."
"I-I know, but-"
"No buts." Yugi stands up firmly, a look on his face that showed he was taking nonsense. Ryou gulps. "You're coming with me, and that's that, all right? Now c'mon, I'll help you make something to eat. I'm starving." He holds out his hand for Ryou to take. The white-haired man stares, his mind ticking over, trying to process everything that was happening.
A chance to go back to Domino.
Friendship.
Forgiveness.
A chance to restore his sanity.
Drawing in a deep, long breath, Ryou reaches up, and takes Yugi's hand.
"Dad, I'm scared."
Ryou smiles, and looks down at the little blonde had pressed into his side. Amane grips her fathers' hand like a lifeline, staring at the big building in front of her with apprehension.
"There's nothing to be scared about, sweetie." Ryou rubs the five-year-olds back in slow, soothing circles. "You're going to like school, I promise."
"Really?" Her peaky little face stared up at Ryou. "... What if they make fun of me?"
"And why would they do that?" Ryou crouches down so they are eye-to-eye. "What's there to make fun of?" Amane shrugged. "All I see is a totally adorable little girl who's eager to learn and can't wait to make heaps and heaps of new friends. Am I right?"
The child is still for a second, then her face splits into a grin, and she wraps her arms around Ryou's neck in a tight hug. Ryou smiles as he wraps his arms around his daughter, picking her up, and whirling her around. Amane squealed with delight.
He does love her.
Amane refuses to leave Ryou's side, insisting that he join her on the vast, dangerous trek to the kindergarten class, and Ryou is only too happy to oblige. He doesn't have a lecture at the local University until eleven. As he walks down the halls, staring about himself, Ryou can't help but remember another first day of school – his little sister. Even though he was seven, he still remembered how she clung so tightly to him as he showed her to her class, and refused to let him leave for his own room.
I think I love her more than I love Bakura. Ryou squeezes Amane's hand, and she squeezes back, looking up at him with a cheeky grin. Of course I do. It's a different sort of love. Stronger. I'd die for her in a heartbeat. I'd do anything to keep her safe.
And Bakura is hurting less, too. Although Ryou still has moments, where he'll lay awake in bed for hours and stare at the ceiling, they were becoming less and less frequent. He was completely off the anti-depressants, and indeed, had been for nine months. His new doctor explained that his medication was wrong. He had been misdiagnosed as a schizophrenic, as well as being depressed, and was offered proper pills, but Ryou refused, explaining he would rather heal through therapy and self-exploration than more drugs. And he felt better. It was like a veil had been removed from his eyes. And now, he can see everything for what it really is. The frayed ends were being sewed back together. And this time, Amane is the titanium thread that holds Ryou in one piece.
"This is your class." Ryou turns the doorknob, and pushes it open. The chid gulps, and stands at the doorway, staring at the class. She hadn't gone to any preschool. Almost immediately, she notices that every other girl in the class is wearing jeans, blue, with pink or purple embroidery, and tee-shirts with lettering on them. And sneakers. Amane is wearing her favourite flouncy skirt the one with the pink flowers, and what she calls her 'puffy cloud' shirt. She feels conspicuous. Most girls have their hair in ponytails, or braids, or short, sleek bobs. Amane pats at her loose, long curls self-consciously. Ryou notices the behaviour, and winces. She is too young to worry about such things.
However, it is unfounded, when another little girl bounds up, in introduction. A 'hi, I'm Muyoki!' And a 'what a pretty skirt!' finished with a 'come play tea party!'
She is fine. Ryou turns away, and walks down the hall by himself, as Amane bounds after her newfound friend. He makes his way outside, into the sunlight, and pulls open the door to his 1990's Toyota car, sitting inside.
Fate has a strange way of working. Bakura's death brought Amane's life. If Bakura was still around, Ryou would have never met Adriana, drunken haze or not, and Amane would have never be conceived. Ryou couldn't imagine a life without his little girl. Death eventually brings life.
And new ends will always bring new beginnings.
I still wonder a lot about decisions.
And it's still late at night, when Amane is asleep, and there's not much traffic outside, and I'm having an insomniac moment. But I worry less. About what's the right thing and what isn't. Yugi was right. My choice, of Bakura and his love, and hope, over Yugi and his friendships, is understandable. I don't hate myself anymore.
But I still miss Bakura, so much. I'm still not ready for a relationship. Sometimes, I feel as though I would never be ready to offer myself to someone, my life, my body and soul and heart and mind. But Bakura is so special to me.
And I can think of him without crying. We had lovely moments. Sometimes, when it was late at night – like this – and I was awake, he used to hold me. And I could feel it. I could feel his arms around me, his breath on my face, his heart beating against me. I could smell him, hear him breathe. When there were moments like that... There was no way he couldn't feel something. What we had seemed so genuine. Not even Bakura could act like that.
And Yugi was right about people never leaving us, too. Sometimes, I wonder if Bakura is really dead. I can't see it. The mighty Bakura, being taken down the way he did. It doesn't make sense.
Maybe it's just a stupid fantasy. Of course it's a stupid fantasy. But, no matter how much time goes by, I will always yearn for Bakura. The one person I actually truly, deeply loved.
But one thing Bakura said has kept me thinking.
He said you can never kill the darkness.
I haven't given up hope.
Yet.
I am so sorry for the length, by the way. I just started and kept going and going and going and then I realised I kinda had to put an ending onto it and sorta give it SOME sort of circle, or everyone would feel short-changed. But aside from editing and minor alterations, I actually wrote that in one setting, that's how... Into it (?) I was.
And I just ranted for WAY too long.
But thanks for reading! :D
...
And you can review if you want to... xD