What was meant to be
Why? Ryou wondered, eyes tightly closed, to prevent his tears from escaping. Why did any of this happen? Why had he been the one to get the Millennium Ring, the Item of unimaginable power? Why was it the Ring that he had received and not one of the other Items? Why... He sighed. None of his questions were getting him anywhere. They just led him down the worn familiar paths. All he was doing would only postpone the moment when he had to admit it himself. He loved his yami – and the spirit was dead.
Even if Bakura had felt nothing for him and wanted only to hurt him, at least he had been there and that was all that Ryou had ever really needed. It was as simple as that. Love - unrequited or no – was what he had felt for the insane yami.
He knew that it wasn't anything to be ashamed of. Yami had explained it to him as soon as he had figured it out. The yamis and the hikaris were soul mates. If it weren't for the fact that the yamis were trapped in the Millennium Items the yamis would have been reborn into this time, the hikaris would be girls, and everything would be perfect. But the Items had messed things up, and now Bakura was dead. There was no way to get him back. It had to be done. It wasn't even because Bakura was evil. The yamis couldn't remain the way they were. They had to die so that they could become part of the world again.
Yami was gone too. He had followed Bakura into the light after exchanging a tearful goodbye with Yugi. Needless to say Bakura had taken part in no such display. No one knew what would happen to them now. There had been nothing to give them any clue of what was coming next. Ryou sighed again, clutching his favorite blanket to him. It was one that Bakura had lent him once. He drifted off into his memories, content to let the ghost of a happier time wash over him.
Ryou curled up at the foot of Bakura's bed, trying to stop shivering. He wouldn't want to annoy Bakura. It was really cold though. An especially cold spot had hit in the middle of winter. And Bakura hadn't even seemed to notice. He still wore the t-shirts and sandals he wore during the summer.
That was why, as Ryou lay on the thick rug that was his bed, he didn't have any covering other than a thin nightshirt. And worse, his shivering still hadn't stopped. He was glad that Bakura hadn't come up yet. He wouldn't want his yami to see how weak he was.
He was never punished for weakness, and Bakura had never actually told him that he was. But Ryou had listened as Bakura took care of the thugs that had tormented him, and he knew that by anyone's standards he was weak. And weakness was not something that Bakura tolerated. He hated it. He wanted to be strong and good, and good-looking so that maybe Bakura could look at him and not be disgusted.
Without ever meaning to he slipped farther into his self pity. His breathing slowed, shivers becoming less noticeable as his skin chilled. He felt himself slipping into sluggishness but ignored it, thinking that he was just starting to fall asleep.
A hand pressed against his cheek, bringing Ryou out of his thoughts instantly. He looked up at his yami, eyes huge, wondering what was going on. Bakura looked at him for a moment before vanishing from sight.
A pile of blankets fell on top of him, and Ryou could see Bakura watching him in amusement.
"Thank you," he whispered. Bakura just shrugged and slipped into his bed.
"Goodnight."
Ryou smiled. There were only a very few memories of his time with Bakura that had been good. That was one of the best. He didn't even bother thinking of the time before he had been given the Ring. He remembered his mother and his sister of course, and he still loved them, but it wasn't right. It was as if all his life until the moment when he first slipped the cord of the Ring over his neck he had been living in a mist.
Putting the Ring on had cleared his mind, given him the sense of reality that he hadn't even known he was missing, and bringing things home to him as they had never been before. It had been strange at first, being 'real' or feeling as if he was, but it was the way things were meant to be. He shook his head to clear away the thoughts and focused instead on remembering other things that had happened with his yami.
Bakura had always hated having his feet confined. He'd worn shoes back in Egypt so Ryou didn't see why, but he did. Eventually he had bought a pair of sandals and wore them, but he had never liked it. A smile dragged itself onto his face despite himself at the thought, and he remembered...
"Master?" Ryou asked tentatively, kneeling in front of Bakura and placing a basin of water in front of him.
"Yes?" Bakura replied, looking down at his hikari.
"N-next time you g-go out, c-could you p-put sh-shoes on please?" Ryou was shaking as he said this, not wanting to seem too forward, but needing to say it anyway. He was the one responsible for keeping the house clean, and apparently he felt the risk was worth it. He was beaten for every bit of dirt that ended up in the house, and he would rather risk getting punished for insolence than be punished for not doing his job properly.
For a full minute Bakura didn't respond, simply staring down at the boy who knelt at his feet. Then he reached out, yanked a chair over, and sat down. Ryou relaxed ever so slightly and began quickly to wash the yami's feet, his soft hands gently brushing ice and dirt away from Bakura's callused soles. The other was used to walking around barefoot, and it showed.
Finally he stood, picking up the bowl and towel he'd been using, and turning to put them away again. Bakura kicked the chair back to its previous position and caught Ryou's chin in his hand. Ryou kept his eyes downcast, not wanting to be caught staring at his yami, a fact which brought a fleeting smile to Bakura's face. He leaned forward and brushed soft lips against Ryou's forehead before briskly heading off to the living room.
He barely missed the brilliant smile that lit up Ryou's features as he stared longingly after his other.
That had been wonderful. It was the first time Bakura had ever shown him any type of affection at all, and Ryou had often cheered himself up in the past after a particularly brutal beating with the memory, and with trying to convince himself that the flash of something indefinable he had seen in Bakura's eyes was love. A knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts, and he went to see who it was.
Plastering a fake smile on his face he pulled open the door, and froze at what he saw there. Yugi with, with someone who absolutely had to be Yami, but couldn't be. Yami wasn't a girl. But who else would have that distinctive hairstyle. And standing to one side, purposefully distancing herself from the group was... Bakura?
"Yes," the smirking girl agreed, and Ryou realized he'd spoken out loud. "We had unfinished business here so we were sent back."
"Thief?" Yami turned to regard him – her – with an amazed stare. "I would have thought you'd be screaming something about being a girl."
Bakura smirked lazily. "Why should I be?" Taking a look at Yami's amazed face he continued. "I've been one before. Some of the others who gained the Ring were girls, and I've possessed them enough to know that there isn't really a problem with being a girl. Besides, one of us has to be." His eyes flickered to Ryou, then back to Yami.
"Yes." The ancient pharaoh agreed, looking down at himself bemusedly. "I suppose so. But if you try to take over the world again..."
"Don't worry so much." Bakura drawled. "Besides, now that things have... changed... I've got to as well. Guess I've got to turn over a new leaf." He smiled – actually smiled, not smirked – and moved closer to wrap an arm around Ryou's waist.
"This should be interesting at least." Yami muttered, then looked down at him – her – self. "I just wish I was as happy with this new form as the tomb robber seems to be.
Owari.
AN: Did you like it? I wasn't really sure but I just got the idea of making Bakura into a girl since everyone also seems to make it the hikaris who are or turn into girls. Tell me if you think it was okay or whether I should have just left it with Ryou angsting. Thank you!