Chapter Two: Ryou angst

Ryou bit back a whimper as Yuugi pulled up the sleeve of his ever-present sweater. The little hikari ran astonished fingers over the swollen, bruised flesh, gasping sympathetically. "Ryou ... what happened?"

Ryou couldn't meet his friend's eyes. "Nothing," he whispered, suddenly glad for the thick mass of hair that hid his face. "I'm alright, really." He pushed himself to his feet, wincing slightly at the burning pain that shot up his lower back. Yuugi grabbed his wrist.

"Ryou, wait. Please, don't walk away from me. Tell me what happened."

"A fall, that's all."

Yuugi slid a hand under Ryou's shirt, baring the mottled purple blotches that defiled his alabaster skin. "This looks like a little more than a 'fall,' Ryou." Ryou flinched away from his touch, jerking his shirt back down.

"Please, Yuugi, don't."

"Why, Ryou?" Yuugi's eyes were pleading, boring into his friend's with an intensity Ryou had never imagined the little hikari possessing. "Why are you doing this?"

Yami snorted, glaring daggers at the back of Bakura's ponytailed head. "This is all his fault."

"No!" Ryou protested, shaking his white locks furiously. "No, don't blame him! It ... it's not really ... "

"Answer Yuugi's question," Yami said mildly, arching an eyebrow at Ryou. "Why put up with this?"

"I ... I just want Bakura to notice me." He glanced down at his Converse-clad feet. "It's stupid, I know, but ... "he shrugged. "I can't help the way I feel."

"And you think putting yourself through this will make Bakura notice you?" Yuugi's usually serene voice was strangely sharp. "Wake up, Ryou! You shouldn't have to put up with him! Do you like not being able to walk? Is that it?"

"Stop it," Ryou muttered, blazing crimson. "I don't want to talk about it."

Yuugi sighed. "I can't do anything if you won't stand up for yourself."

"Ryou!"

Ryou flinched at his yami's bark. "I—I'd better—"

"Think for yourself, for once!" Yuugi said. "Don't just go running to him! You're not a dog, Ryou!"

"RYOU! Get your ass over here!"

"I—I have to—"Ryou flushed even darker, turning to run towards Bakura. He winced at the ear-piercing screech of the whistle hung on a knotted cod around Bakura's neck.

"What the hell have you been doing? Practice started ten minutes ago!"

Ryou sighed, accepting the hairband his yami offered and pulling his snowy locks back into a tail. "Sorry, coach."

Yuugi shook his head, glancing at Yami. "Bishounen just weren't meant to play football."