Edited in 2017

Ryou dismounted the motorbike, hoping that Mariku wouldn't ask to come with him. If he did, Ryou knew he would let him but he didn't need anyone to make the situation at home worse. It was difficult enough and he didn't feel like apologizing. Sure his words had been harsh; he hadn't known he could say such things to his father's face, but he had been in the right. Hadn't he?

"Um," Ryou turned his stare from the front door to his companion. "I had fun, thank you." The words sounded hollow; he was never formal with Mariku. His thoughts were on what to say to his father.

Mariku tilted his head, relaxing against the bike. "You didn't pay attention to the movie," he stated and a mockery of a smile lifted his lips. "When exactly did you have fun?"

Ryou faltered. He kept his mouth shut until the stammering didn't threaten him anymore. Defensive, he frowned. "You didn't either and-and I…" He glanced at the front door again. "Of course I liked being with you."

With a shake of his head, Mariku let the smile drop. "Go to your father," was all he had to say. Ryou had expected him to snap at how vague and inattentive Ryou was being. They exchanged looks before Mariku got ready to leave, revving the engine.

"I'll call you," Ryou whispered at Mariku's back. Things hadn't gone the way he would have liked but at least there had been no possessive fit of anger. An angry father was nothing compared to an angry Mariku.

The house was silent when Ryou entered. His father rarely listened to music or watched television. Now that Ryou thought of it, he realized that he didn't know what kind of music his father liked, if any kind. He had never bothered to ask. The neglect was mutual, it seemed. With that knowledge, the need to make things right increased.

The living room light shone through to the hall. Ryou followed it and found his father seated on the couch, elbows leaning on knees and with a troubled expression on his face. The man looked up when Ryou entered the room. The wrinkles on his forehead smoothed out a little as their eyes met.

"Son."

Ryou tried to smile. "Hi, dad."

There was a moment of silence, both searching for words that could relieve some of the tension. Ryou was the first to speak. "This morning, I…" he glanced at his socked feet to gather his thoughts again, "What I said was a low blow, I shouldn't have." The words 'I'm sorry' refused to pass his lips.

"Don't apologize," the man said despite how Ryou hadn't. "You were right; I haven't been the greatest dad." He patted the space next to him, as though just realizing that Ryou was still standing on the other side of the room. Ryou hesitated before moving to sit with his father.

After a moment of staring at his hands, his father spoke. Ryou was grateful; he wouldn't have known what to say. "I know we haven't spent much time together since your mother and… you know." He looked up from his hands to face his son. Ryou nodded in understanding, though they hadn't been tight before the incident either. "So, I've arranged it so that I can come home a bit earlier tomorrow," his father continued, smiling just a touch, "I thought we could use some father-son time."

Ryou needed time to gather his wits, and to wipe the disbelief from his face. "Oh." The hopeful look on his father's face told that he should smile and act excited before he ruined the moment. "That sounds great. What did you have in mind?" Of course the other would have everything planned, just waiting for Ryou to ask what the proper father-son activity was. Ryou wasn't sure why he couldn't bring himself to be genuinely pleased. Maybe it had something to do how his opinion was never asked. Wasn't 'father-son time' what he had wanted?

"Well, I thought we'd go out to have dinner and have a nice talk."

The last 'nice talk' they had had played out in Ryou's mind as he forced his smile to stay intact. "Sounds great, dad."

The man smiled. "Great."

xxx

After a night of slipping in and out of sleep, Mariku wasn't in the best of moods. The small incident at the movie theater had stirred up something in him. It made him restless. Ryou calmed him down, and he cherished that calm, but Ryou couldn't always be there to stop him from brooding.

The alarm clock on the floor next to his makeshift bed told that it was late afternoon. He had tried napping for a couple of hours but now his stomach complained that it was high time to get up. The fridge in the kitchenette stood cold and empty, a sign that he had paid his electricity bill but forgot to go grocery shopping. Deciding that walking would do him good, Mariku grabbed his keys and headed downtown.

Emerging from between the rundown apartment buildings to the busy street was like stepping into another world. The main streets were wide and well taken care of, surrounded with graffiti-free white walls and clean windows. For a passing moment, Mariku felt out of place. The feeling was quickly overridden. He merged with the rest of the crowd, though not without effort; he was always noticed; but with the grace of one who had once been part of the hustle. He never regretted leaving his father's house, though at times he missed having a future.

"Mariku!"

He stopped so suddenly that the person walking behind him almost ran into his back. He paid no mind to the nasty look he received, his attention focused on the one dodging people to get to him. Ryou.

"Hey." Ryou smiled, fingering the handle of his schoolbag. "I didn't expect to run into you here," he trailed off and his face twisted into a frown. "Are you alright?"

At the question, Mariku glanced at his reflection on the café window they stood next to. He relaxed his shoulders and rubbed the wrinkles formed between his eyebrows, wondering why he hadn't noticed how agitated he looked. "I guess I could be feeling better." His stomach growled. "And I'm hungry."

Ryou dared to smile again. "If hunger is your main concern, I think I can help you." When Ryou reached out to touch his arm, Mariku found that he no longer needed to will himself to relax. "I can make you something."

Mariku raised his brow, the corner of his mouth twisting up. "What's the occasion?"

"Well, I…" Ryou let his hand drop and looked away. His eyes trailed Mariku's collar. "I was going to invite you over anyway since last night didn't go so well, and um, I need to talk to you."

"About?"

"I'm having dinner and 'nice talk' with my dad."

This seemed like the kind of moment when one just said "I see" and moved on. Mariku didn't see the problem. He had been under the impression that Ryou wanted attention from his old man. The street wasn't the ideal place for a deep and meaningful conversation, though, so he let the subject slip away for the time being. The small corner store and all its reasonably priced foodstuffs were calling out to him.

"You head home and get things started. I won't take long."

Ryou didn't look thrilled despite how his mouth formed a smile and he nodded. Mariku didn't bother with a reminder on how he hated the forced cheerfulness.

xxx

Ryou heard the motorbike through the open kitchen window, and soon, the doorbell rang.

"It's open!"

There was a rustle of clothes followed by footfalls against the hallway carpet. Everything was just about done. Mariku had taken longer to arrive than he had expected and Ryou had picked something easy to prepare so he wouldn't have to wait forever. Ryou hadn't liked the look on Mariku's face. If food would help the expression to go away…

"Isn't it risky to leave the door open like that?"

Hands settled on his hips. For a second, he was torn between jerking forward out of surprise and leaning back. He should have heard Mariku coming.

"Anyone could walk in and their intentions might not be good." Mariku's tone was light and Ryou let himself relax.

"I'm sure I'd manage, armed with a spatula and all." He felt breath hit the top of his head as Mariku chuckled. "You're in a better mood."

"You light up my life."

Frowning at the flat statement, Ryou turned off the stove before he got carried away and burned the food. "I didn't last night." From now on, he would look at Mariku before jumping to any conclusions about his mood, affectionate gestures or no.

"That had nothing to do with you." Mariku loosened his hold and coaxed Ryou to turn around to face him. "I wasn't upset with you. If anything, you make me feel better."

Ryou watched Mariku's face carefully, giving a slow nod. It wasn't often Mariku talked about the way he felt and he never looked comfortable while doing it. This time was no different, there was a healthy dose of anger behind the half lidded eyes but Ryou knew not to take it too personally. Anger was such a steady part of Mariku's emotional scale that no emotion could be expressed without it. The thought brought a small smile on Ryou's face; a strange person he had fallen for.

The smile didn't go unnoticed. Mariku tilted his head, his fingers touching Ryou's cheek. "What?" Despite the question, Ryou got the feeling that Mariku had recognized the nature of the smile. In response, Mariku's mouth started to tilt upwards but Ryou couldn't read the look in his eyes. It worried him a little.

"If I remember correctly, I didn't kiss you good night."

A flash of teeth was all Ryou saw when Mariku grinned before covering his mouth with his own. He couldn't determine what kind of a grin it was. Predatory was his best guess as the corner of the stove dug into his back. The hold on his head grew close to painful. Alarm bells went off in the back of his mind. Having nowhere to back off to, Ryou gave the other a shove hard enough to get the message through. Mariku didn't look pleased.

The expression Ryou came face to face with made him flinch. "Um, I don't know when my dad will be here and the food's getting cold." There was no strength in his voice and the reasoning had no effect so he added, "You're holding me too tight, so please."

"Oh." Mariku backed off, glancing at the food behind Ryou, as though to avoid looking at him. "Sorry."

Unsure how to react to the apology, he hadn't been expecting one, Ryou turned both of their attention on something else. "Why don't you sit down and I'll get you a plateful?" He launched into action while he spoke, reaching for the cupboard above the sink. He heard the chair legs moving against the floor and a frustrated sigh as Mariku took a seat. Something was not right. It couldn't be the hunger alone, even though he dug into his food with the appropriate amount of enthusiasm.

When Ryou took a seat on the opposite side of the table, Mariku glanced up at him, slowing down the pace of his shoveling. "You're not eating."

"I'm having dinner with my father later, so…"

Mariku nodded and finished his plate with a couple of mouthfuls. "That's what you wanted to talk about."

"Yeah, kind of," Ryou admitted. Whatever ailing Mariku felt much more important. "Would you like some more?" He reached out for the plate, and when there was no objection, went to refill it. Aware of the eyes watching him, Ryou sat back down after finishing his task. He knew what kind of a searching, calculating look those eyes had but couldn't help looking up at them. Ryou felt like he was the one caught staring. "Um…"

The eyes narrowed.

"This isn't about your father, is it?"

Trust Mariku to know how to make a truth out of a question. Ryou wanted to look away but found he was trapped with no other way out than to confirm Mariku's suspicions.

"N-no, I mean, not anymore." He dared to blink. "I think there's something wrong with you."

Mariku grinned. "There are a lot of things wrong with me."

"Yes, but that's not what I meant."

The sound of a key turning in the lock interrupted their staring match. For once, Ryou wasn't pleased that his father chose to come home early. He had expected it but right now, the distraction offered Mariku an easy way out.

"It's nothing you need to worry about," Mariku said as he moved past Ryou, giving the man who had just entered a nod. "Mr. Bakura." His father said something in return but Ryou was no longer paying attention. The floorboards had never looked so dull. He had been brushed aside.

"Ryou?"

He faced his father, struggling to smile to ease the concern written on the older features. "I'm ready to go after doing the dishes."

The worry didn't leave. "Are you sure you're still up for it? We could stay here if you like."

"I'd rather go out." The last thing he wanted was to stay in and dwell on his failure. He could try and deal with his emotions later. "I need to get my mind off of things, you know." As the hot water started running, he hoped his father got the hint; he didn't want to talk about it, not now. It was too easy for Mariku to bring him down.

"If you're sure." His father hesitated at the door. "I'll just… go change."

"Ok." When his father left, Ryou noticed that he was washing the same plate over and over again.

xxx

Ryou was surprised to find the place his father took him to familiar. He had been there with Mariku, back when they had needed to make up. They had only argued since then, and now that he thought of it, that was an achievement. Ryou had to remind himself that he was here to avoid thinking about Mariku, not to space out. His father's insistent couching helped.

"You look thoughtful."

"Oh, um, I've been here before." Avoiding the subject, Ryou asked, "Do you know what you'll have?"

His father frowned at his menu. "Not quite."

Concentrating on his list of food, Ryou tried to remember what he had eaten the last time and if he had liked it. Mariku had picked it for him. His frown was a near copy of his father's. Scanning the page until he found a section he was sure Mariku hadn't ordered from, he set to find something he wanted to eat.

Their table was located near the windows looking over the street. Downhill was the harbor. It was surprising that they were so close to it; his father didn't even visit the graves. In order to have a nice evening, he couldn't bring up the subject. He knew then how things were bound to go. They would keep to safe conversation topics, careful not to touch any ill-healed scars. The evening would be pointless and boring.

Ryou glanced at his father who was looking around for a waiter. He could suffer through some boredom if it meant they would be ok again. Things had never been perfect but maybe agreeable was enough.

After ordering, Ryou decided to save his father from starting a conversation. "So. How's work? You hadn't said anything about it in a while."

The man smiled. "You're never there to talk to anymore."

Translation, Ryou thought, biting his lip to refrain from shooting anything back, 'You're always with him'.

"But it's been alright." His eyes lit up at a memory. "Oh, there was this one incident…"

Ryou listened as the man went on with his story, finding that smiling and nodding at the right places brought a sense of stability. Being boring wasn't such a bad thing. He could predict the events ahead of him now; a luxury he never had with Mariku. Boring was safe, and the restaurant was meant for forgiving.