Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! belonged to Kazuki Takahashi.
Ryou is smiling--just barely--in his panel in the last issue of YGO. I found that interesting.
I wanted to call this chapter "property of the
Ring," but I couldn't find the Latin for "ring" (granted, I
didn't look all that hard). So instead, since the Millennium Ring seems to be
pretty sentient at times, I called it "golden soul" and left it at
that. Hence the title.
------------
`
Ryou supposed he was a fool for thinking that it would be over with the RPG. Out of all of them, he was the one who knew best, who should have realized first that Bakura just wouldn't die that easily.
And it wasn't like he hadn't originally thought that the thief would come back--he'd spent the entire first week after the art museum waiting to see that haze out of the corner of his eye, waiting to hear Bakura's cool voice inside his head or out of it...just waiting. Because it couldn't have been finished that quickly, could it?
But nothing happened, and after the first week Ryou was lulled into thinking that maybe the RPG had been Bakura's last chance gamble, and when it failed that was finally going to be the end of it. After all, there was nothing more to be done now--his friends had won the Shadow game fair and square, Yuugi had all the Items, and in two more days they would reach the Valley of the Kings and the whole bloody mess would be over, and he wouldn't have to wake up in any more places wondering where he was and how he'd gotten there and whether he should start running in case the police were on their way. Ryou had pushed the quiet lingering thoughts out of his mind and just enjoyed the trip to Egypt.
Right up to the night in Cairo, when he woke to see Bakura sitting at the edge of his sleeping bag.
He'd jerked upright without even thinking that it might rouse the others. He did manage to keep from screaming in frustration, though, clenching his hands and yelling in his mind instead. You're supposed to be dead!
Bakura might have smirked--he was so faint that even when Ryou focused his gaze he seemed to waver in and out of view. The teenager was only certain that he was sitting there because he just knew it. Not while you aren't, landlord.
Ryou clenched his fists tighter and glared at him, unable to turn the emotions running through his mind into any kind of coherent statement. But he didn't need to put them into a reply--Bakura could already tell what he was thinking, because the thief was back in his mind, in that corner that he didn't realize he was grateful to have empty until it was filled again, and Ryou almost was tempted to scream, to wake everyone up so the other Yuugi could finally finish the thief off or to have them tell him it was just a nightmare, it didn't really matter which, and Bakura overheard that, too, because he moved suddenly and clamped his hand over Ryou's mouth.
The gesture didn't mean much, since Bakura was scarcely able to make himself transparent, but Ryou could still feel his fingers like cool air across his skin, and it caused him to still.
There was a moment of silence between them, though there hadn't been any sound in the first place, and then Ryou pulled back enough to dislodge Bakura's hand.
Why? he demanded brokenly. Why aren't you gone?!
I told you, landlord. You're still here, so I still have a room to come back to. Bakura was closer now, and Ryou could see the smirk this time. Besides, you knew this would happen; you just lied to yourself again. You would have missed me if I were gone.
Ryou flinched. I hate you, he replied. I want to see you dead.
I know that, Bakura replied, tonelessly and with no expression that Ryou could make out on his face. But you would miss me.
Ryou didn't have a reply to that.
After several seconds where the teenager said nothing, Bakura reached out and touched his fingers to Ryou's cheek, gently pushing his head to the left. Ryou clenched his fists even tighter and closed his eyes.
There had been a unanimous (as unanimous as it could get with Honda clamping a hand over Jounouchi's mouth to keep him from protesting) decision to give Anzu the one bed in the room, and the guys took the floor. Honda was sleeping next to him, Otogi was stretched out at the foot of the bed, and Jounouchi and Yuugi--stupid, stupid, trusting Yuugi--were sleeping on the left. All Ryou had to do was make his way to the other side without tripping over Otogi or Jounouchi, and he could reach the small bag that Yuugi was keeping the Sennen Items in.
Ryou shook his head vehemently, knocking Bakura's hand to the side as he did--anyone else, and the translucent hand would have simply gone through them--as he hissed, "No. Damn you. No." They've given me more second chances than I deserve. I'm not going to betray him again.
"Urg," Honda muttered, rubbing his eyes with a loose fist. Ryou froze.
Honda blinked a few times, then gave him a half-conscious, curious look. "Bakura? You okay?"
Ryou nodded a little too quickly, then paused and calmed down. He gave Honda a half smile. "Yeah. I just--had a bad dream."
"'S th' heat," Honda replied with sleeper's logic, and Ryou nodded in lieu of trying to understand the connection. "Wha 's it about?"
Ryou shrugged a shoulder. "Oh, I can't remember anymore. Just stuff."
"Ah, 'kay." Honda threw his arm back over his head. "Night."
"Night...," Ryou replied, knowing that if he kept sitting Honda would probably come around for real, and he suddenly couldn't stand the thought of the others waking up and seeing Bakura there. He didn't want to know how they would look at him for it. So he yanked the edge of the sleeping bag up over his shoulders despite the heat, and curled up on his side, muscles tense.
Bakura might have chuckled. Or he might have sighed. Or it might have been a fly buzzing in the room. He brushed his fingers over Ryou's cheek again, and at that the teenager flinched again and buried his head in his arms.
Ryou bit his lip as he felt Bakura trace the ridges of his spine along his neck, and he tensed even more when the thief stroked his back briefly before sliding his arm underneath Ryou's chest, just below his ribs. The fabric of the sleeping bag meant nothing, after all. Bakura stretched out on top of him, one leg tangled between Ryou's and using the teenager's shoulder blade as a pillow.
Ryou bit his lip harder, then stopped when he realized he was going to cut it. He pressed his forehead against his arms, squeezing his eyes shut when they started to sting.
How many times...how many times had he fallen asleep like this? It had to be less than it felt like, but it felt like a million or some other exaggerated number. The only difference was that his ribs didn't hurt and he could breathe easier.
Why won't you leave me alone? he asked quietly.
Bakura didn't reply, only adjusting his resting place on Ryou's back by a fraction.
Ryou fell asleep faster than he
wanted to admit, and the next morning Bakura had disappeared before Yuugi woke
up. Ryou told himself the reason the
fabric of his sleeping bag was damp was because he must have drooled in his
sleep last night.
`
Bakura was there again the second night.
They'd made it down from Cairo to Luxor, and all that was left to do was cross the Nile and visit the Valley of the Kings. They would have gone that afternoon, but the plane had come in late and they couldn't get tickets for anything earlier than tomorrow morning. But that was okay, because Yuugi--the only person other than the Ishtars who officially knew where the pharaoh's tomb was in the changed, modern geography--said that they would have to walk for a while before they found it, anyway. Ryou wasn't really looking forward to trekking through the stifling valley in the middle of the day, and he knew that they were going to have to climb up the nearby cliffs for part of the way as well, because the other Yuugi hadn't been physically buried in the place that his tomb was, but he wanted to see this through. He had to.
He had to.
The second time Ryou didn't even bother to pull the sleeping bag up when he saw Bakura, who was standing by the window staring out at the sprawl of the city below them. Ryou didn't want to understand what the expression on the thief's face was, so he closed his eyes and rolled away from the wall, onto his back.
A while later he felt Bakura lie down next to him, the thief's head resting on his stomach. Go away, Ryou said. It's too hot for you to be here.
Egypt nights are cold, Bakura answered.
Not anymore, Ryou replied, hoping that it would hurt.
Bakura didn't show any signs if it had, and finally Ryou sighed and opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling, knowing he was going to be half-dead from this lack of sleep tomorrow. Why can't you just accept that you lost? he criticized. You lost then, and you lost now. Just stop already. You had your chance.
He could barely feel the way Bakura's fingers tightened against his waist. I will not die until he pays for my village.
Ryou blinked, and then his eyes widened slightly. He couldn't bring himself to look away from the ceiling and towards the thief.
He knew what had happened in the game; Yuugi and the others had told him all what they had done, and then the other Yuugi--Atemu, Ryou reminded himself, he was so used to just calling him the other Yuugi--had told them everything he had done, and Ryou also had fragments of information that had drifted over while he was building, so he knew more of the story than all of them put together.
And like everyone else, he'd assumed that Bakura's obsession with Kuru Eruna had just been an excuse--a justification for all the death and destruction he'd brought. Ryou couldn't imagine the thief ever caring about something that much. After all, he'd never shown respect or regard for anything else, not even Ryou, except when it would get what he wanted.
But Ryou hadn't thought that maybe the thief could only care about one thing, and that took all that he had to give.
He would have suspected that Bakura was trying to play with his mind, trying to push him into deciding to take back the Ring before it was too late; but Ryou knew that he wasn't, in the same way he had known that Bakura had come back even before he woke up and saw him. He was telling the truth, as twisted a truth as it was.
It was the first real thing Bakura had ever said to him.
It would be the last one, too, if Ryou could keep himself together until tomorrow morning.
...there's no point in getting revenge for something that happened three thousand years ago, he said softly, a minute of silence later. It doesn't mean anything.
It means everything, landlord, Bakura replied. I made my deal to get justice.
Ryou closed his eyes again. ...I won't help you.
Bakura didn't move. No one would. That's why I had to do it myself.
Ryou didn't have a reply to that, and Bakura said nothing more.
They stayed still for a long time, but Ryou couldn't fall asleep. Finally, his hand twitched, and a moment later he lifted it and touched Bakura's hair, stroking it for a breath before tangling his fingers in the strands. He could barely feel them--it was like touching a ghost.
Ryou knew he was never really going to be free of the thief, death or not.
More time dragged by, and then
Ryou felt Bakura press a kiss to his stomach, barely stronger than air. He shivered at that and thought about pulling
his hand away.
`
The next morning Ryou rubbed the dried tracks on his cheek and told himself he
really needed to stop drooling in his sleep--it had to look undignified.