A tiny, distant noise made Tea practically jump out of her skin. What was she doing? She was just standing here in the middle of the hallway, her bra dangling from her arms. She might have put three stair flights of distance between her and Ryou, but that guaranteed her only a minute or two, nothing more. Pulse pounding, she dashed into the nearest open classroom. She winced as the door slammed shut behind her.
Tea hauled in a deep breath, trying to steady her jittery nerves. When her heart rate had slowed enough for Tea to hear over the pounding blood in her ears, she went to the door and listened carefully. Nothing. Tea let out her breath. It was probably the heating system she had heard, some ancient fan whirring to life. Nothing to worry about.
Not for the moment, anyway.
She couldn't go on sneaking around indefinitely. Ryou would wake up, sooner rather than later. When that happened, he would look for her, and she would have to face him. There was no getting around that. Instead of trying to figure out how to put that off, maybe she should be trying to figure out what she was going to do when it did happen. Tea squirmed at the very notion. She didn't have any idea what Ryou was thinking—what he knew, what he'd guessed, what Bakura had given away. She didn't know how much he'd be willing to forgive. And she wasn't at all sure she could even face him, whether to beg for that forgiveness or to hid the truth at all costs. All she knew was that when she pictured Ryou's face, her heart started going a million miles a minute and her gut wrenched. Everything thought fled her skull except one: Bakura's ultimatum.
She bit down hard on the inside of her lip. The sharp pain helped her focus. Her thudding pulse slowed and her breath evened out. It didn't matter, Tea told herself firmly. It wasn't like she was actually going to follow the Spirit's dictates. She wasn't. At least…
No. She wasn't doing that. It wasn't an option.
But was she prepared for the consequences?
Her clothes fell out of her arms and onto the floor as Tea buried her hands in her hair, fingers digging into her scalp. Her heartbeat was racing again, and she could feel the adrenaline burning in her veins. But this time, there was no physical release for the tension inside of her. There was nothing she could do to change the situation. Her body screamed to run or fight, but neither was an option. Well, if Bakura actually tried to make good on his threat, she'd do her best, but she already knew it was a lost cause. She was trapped inside this building—unless she wanted to brave the snowstorm in a minskirt—and the Spirit of the Ring had already demonstrated that he was more than capable of physically restraining her. The memory of that horrible snake-thing he had set out of her brushed across her mind. For a second, she could feel its cold, leathery scales digging into her flesh. She shuddered. Even worse was the certain knowledge that a Venom Boa was far from the worst that Bakura's magic could inflict if he so chose.
Tea supposed if she was really proactive, if she was willing to strike preemptively, she might be able to do something, but she was inside a school. There were no guns, no knives, no conventional weapons of any kind. Besides, any damage she did to the Spirit would also be done to Ryou. Bruised shins and black eyes were one thing, but she knew full well that wouldn't deter Bakura. The kind of things that would—a pencil to the eye, a sharp blade to the crotch, a hard hit to the head—were exactly the things that she couldn't do to Ryou. This wasn't his fault. Hadn't he suffered enough?
Her thoughts did nothing to slow the pounding of her pulse or the churning in her gut. This was all too much. She needed time to sort it all out. Surely, if she only had a chance to think, she'd come up with something.
She had four hours. No, less now. Probably three hours and fifty-three minutes, or something like that. Tea's lip curled in a humorless smile. She needed a countdown timer. A doomsday clock.
All the sudden, all the nervous energy drained out of her, and she realized she was exhausted. She leaned back against the door of the classroom, her head insupportably heavy. Her arms hung limply at her sides. She could just stay here in this room forever, she thought. That wouldn't be so bad. It was quiet here. And dark. She could just let herself crumble to the floor and let the world figure itself out on its own.
No, she couldn't.
Groaning, Tea forced herself upright. She couldn't stay here, tempting as it was. She did, however, need to make herself presentable before Ryou caught up with her. Reluctantly, she began to peel her undershirt back over her head so she could re-dress herself, properly this time. But as she did so, she caught a whiff of her stale, sweaty self. Her deodorant had definitely worn off more than a few hours ago. She thought about the way she probably looked—not just the wrinkled, half-on, day-old clothes, but the smudged makeup, the greasy, tousled hair, and all the rest of her less-than-fresh self. She grimaced. The Spirit had said she could use a shower. As much as she hated to admit it…
She prayed this would be the last thing he'd be right about.
Re-entry was never fun.
Dull pain thudded in the recesses of his skull. Ryou opened his eyes, blinking groggily in the dingy fluorescent light of the classroom. The light only mde his headache worse. He rubbed absently at his temples, more out of habit than because it would help. It didn't. His limbs felt a little heavier, a little more awkward than normal. They always seemed to, after he'd been away from his body for a bit. It was as if they'd gotten used to the Spirit of Ring, and had to readjust to his control. He scowled. It was his body. So why did he have to struggle into it like a thrift-store find while the Spirit slipped it on like Armani? Just another one of the manifold injustices of being Ryou Bakura.
With a sigh, Ryou took stock of his surroundings. He was back where his last conscious memories of the real world had ended—Ms. Evans' classroom. Just like before, he was sitting on Principal Burke's chair, arms propped up on the leather armrests, feet brushing against the plastic wheelbase. But he quickly realized that the restraints that Tea had carefully fastened were gone. He sprang up out of the chair, almost knocking it over in his haste.
He didn't have to look hard to discover what had become of them. They were littered across the stubbly carpet all around the chair.
Ryou groaned inwardly. Just what had he expected? He looked down at his hands, remembering the way his fingers had known how to pick the lock in the library yesterday, how they'd untangled the hopelessly snarled knots in Amane's favorite locket when he'd found the necklace stashed in one of his dad's old coat pocket, how they'd picked other locks and undone other knots in the past year or so. Had he really thought it was luck, or a hidden talent, or…whatever? His stomach clenched. It was muscle memory, pure and simple. Just not his memories.
There was no time to dwell on his own stupidity in thinking the bindings would hold the Spirit of the Ring. It was more important to figure out what else the Spirit had done besides freeing him. Ryou's brow furrowed. From the fact that he was sitting in the chair, it would seem that he hadn't done anything else. But that couldn't be right, could it? Ryou dug a hand into his mass of white hair. Just how long had the Spirit been in control of his body?
His eyes shot to the clock that hung over the classroom's doorway. It was a minute or two shy of 2:15. But the time didn't tell him much. He'd been so long out of its framework that he had to struggle just to re-orient himself to his place in it. He wasn't sure about what time it had been before the Spirit took over, but he knew they hadn't eaten lunch yet. Maybe 11:30-ish? That made roughly three hours that he'd been out of his body. But he couldn't assume that the Spirit had been in control of it for that long. In fact, it was pretty certain that he hadn't. After all, the three of them had all been the Shadow Realm for a while—there was no telling how long. Ryou let out a long sigh. Their little excursion to the Shadow Realm could have taken anywhere from half an hour to the entire three hour period.
Maybe, Ryou thought optimistically, the very second that the Spirit had undone the last cord, he'd been whisked into the shadows—before he'd had a chance to wreak any havoc in his body.
As soon as the thought rose in his mind, it deflated. The way Bakura had talked about being brought into the Shadow Realm—the way he'd blamed Tea—it had sounded like he had been there, in the room with Tea when it had happened. And of course, there were the other things he'd said… Ryou had tried so hard to ignore the Spirit's implications. The Spirit lied, he knew that. Worse, he twisted the truth to suit his own ends. He was good at it, but Ryou knew better than to take him at his word. But Tea…the way the color had risen in her cheeks, the way her eyes had become glued to the floor…His gut twisted. That was much, much harder to ignore.
He remembered the way the Spirit had watched Tea, the blatant lust dripping from his eyes. He remembered the way that he'd pulled Tea into his arms and kissed her with an almost practiced effortlessness. His cheeks burned, but he felt cold, like his insides had turned to ice.
But Tea had shoved the Spirit away. Tea had railed at him and threatened him. She'd acted like anything but the Spirit's willing lover. And it had been Ryou that she'd defended, more than once. It had been Ryou she'd called her boyfriend.
The tightness in Ryou's chest eased just a little, but he couldn't relax completely. Something had happened while he was "out." He'd have to be an idiot not to realize that. The only question was what.
Ryou tried hard to remember everything the Spirit had said. It wasn't easy, considering how much of it he'd been trying to ignore. Between the barbs and innuendos, what actually information had he let slip? Not much. Some comments implying they'd spent time together, a few insinuations that something physical had happened between them, and a couple very definite accusations that Tea was responsible for all three of them getting sucked into the Shadow Realm. In fact, hadn't the Spirit said something about Tea touching the Millennium Ring?
Automatically, Ryou's fingers went to to his chest. The Ring was still there—the cold, hard shape of it sensible beneath his jacket. The weight of it hung around his neck like a millstone. So much for hoping Tea'd had the Ring in the course of trying—futilely, of course—to get ride of it once and for all. Or maybe she had and the Spirit had just managed to retrieve it before being whisked off to the shadows.
Ryou leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, trying to remember the last thing that had happened before the Spirit had invaded his consciousness. At first, there was just a blank, then…heat. The scent of Tea's skin, vanilla honeysuckle drifting lazily over his senses. The warmth of her teasing, tantalizing touch. The staccato pounding of his heart in his chest. The slide of her hot, silken lips across his. The indescribably sweetness of her mouth.
A shiver of pure longing shuddered through Ryou, even as the sensual memories faded out into the empty oblivion that he knew was when the Spirit had severed him from reality. He tugged at his jacket collar. It wasn't the only thing that suddenly felt too tight. He swallowed hard. Damn the Spirit for pulling him out of that. Who knew what would have happened if he hadn't ended it so abruptly.
Slowly, a cold realization forced its way past the hot blood coursing through his brain. It had ended…for him. But what about Tea? When had she realized what the Spirit had done?
In an instant, Ryou's blood froze, and then just as quickly thawed under the searing tide of raw anger. So that was the meaning of all of the Spirit's innuendos and knowing looks. That was why Tea had blushed and glowered and hadn't met his eyes. No doubt that was how she came to be touching the Millennium Ring, too.
His jaw clenched. It was bad enough that the Spirit had stolen the rest of that kiss from him. It was bad enough that he'd touched Tea at all. But for the Spirit to use him this way, to use a real moment between him and Tea to further his own sick seduction schemes…it was a violation worse than any Ryou had ever felt before.
It couldn't happen again. Determination swelled in Ryou's chest, even as crushing pain filled it. He'd rather never know Tea's touch again than to let the Spirit use his guise that way. His throat felt too tight and he swallowed hard over a hot lump. The idea was wrenching, but at the same time, Ryou knew he'd never feel safe kissing Tea again, touching her, holding her, while all the time knowing in the back of his head that the Spirit could take his place at any second. The back of his eyes burned. He wasn't sure if he could actually protect Tea from the Spirit, even if he did his best to stay away from her. But he was sure that if he didn't, he would never forgive himself for the consequences.
He should just go. The idea thudded dully through his consciousness. He should just head out the door and make for home, damn the snow and cold. If he made it safely through the storm, then well and good. He'd just have make sure that he never let himself be alone with Tea ever again. He squeezed his hands into fists. And if he didn't make it, then that was just as well. Tea would never have anything to fear from him ever again.