The door to Ryou's room opened.
One of the younger doctors walked into the hallway. Tea, Tristan, Joey, and Isis were still huddled against the wall, hoping against hope that Ryou was still alive behind it. They glanced up when they heard the door creak.
"Is… is he…?" Tristan tried to speak, but couldn't find any more words.
Tea muffled a squeak, burying her face in Joey's shirt. He rubbed her back sympathetically as the doctor drew a long silent breath.
"Well?" Joey asked, growing quickly impatient. "Is he…"
No one could finish that sentence for fear of the obvious ending.
"We've managed to get a heartbeat." The doctor finally answered, after the long pause. The relief the friends felt was certainly palpable. They jumped into each other's arms, shedding their captive tears of joy.
"Thank goodness…" Tristan managed to say, clasping his arms around Isis.
"That's wonderful." Joey added, looking up from Tea's embrace.
The doctor, however, looked less than enthusiastic. And his stoic demeanor quickly drew the teens out of their celebration.
"Is… is it not wonderful?" Tea managed to whisper.
The doctor looked behind him, at the team that was still currently surrounding Ryou Bakura's bed. He closed the door gently.
"We've managed to get a heartbeat…" he repeated, his voice quieter. "But we don't know how long we can keep it."
The friends glanced at each other briefly, and then let their eyes fall to the floor.
"But… for now?" Tea asked.
"For now, we have a weak pulse."
Tea nodded. She watched the doctor fidget with the pen in his hand. There was more bad news, news that he probably regretted having to break to people so young. He tried his best not to make any eye contact, instead settling for staring at a loose scrap of fabric hanging out of Joey's jacket.
"Ryou Bakura… probably won't make it through the night." He finally admitted. "Bodily systems are already starting to shut down. Liver function, kidneys… Brain function is also fading… He's slipped into a coma."
They gasped.
"Is… is… there… there any ch... chance… that… that maybe…" Tristan stammered, attempting to find something for his hope to grasp on to. The doctor just shook his head.
"The latest sample revealed…" He couldn't finish his sentence.
"Revealed… what?" Tristan gasped.
"… It's black." He answered, unsure of his words.
"What do you mean, it's black?"
"The sample… the bacteria have a black color. It was so widespread in his bloodstream, there was little else but black." He continued, pausing between each phrase as he tried to explain that which he still didn't understand. "We've never witnessed the germs reproducing, but… through all of our best efforts… we can't find a way to stop the growth of the infection."
Had the friends possessed any more tears to cry, they probably would have burst at that very instant.
"We've added another course of antibiotics, and immune system boosters… but it is only a last resort." The doctor sighed. He made the mistake of looking up, and catching eye contact with Tea. The pain and regret glossed over her blue orbs sent chills down his spine. He struggled to maintain his stoic composure. "The medicine itself is at an almost toxic level in his system, but it still has absolutely no effect on the disease… and even if it started to work now… It's far too late…"
A ghastly silence fell over the hallway.
"He's at a point beyond which he could physically recover…"
The statement resonated in their minds for what felt like an eternity. Barring even a miracle, it was too late…
This was it.
Despite their best efforts, and that of the great Egyptian gods, the curse of the Shadow realm had won. Ryou Bakura was going to die.
"Can… can we… at least see 'im?" Joey eventually whispered, his throat dry and ready to crack. His voice had lost all threats of anger and violence, reduced to only grief. "He's… he's our bud…"
The other three nodded, and the doctor bowed his head a little. He opened the door.
The teens waited while the medical personnel filed out of Ryou's room like an early funeral procession. They kept their eyes along the floor, not wanting to admit to themselves or the suffering friends waiting by the doorway that they had failed. The infection, still a mystery to them, was going to claim one life. In the back of their minds, even though they had seen no evidence of it spreading, they feared it would eventually take more.
"He… he won't be able to answer you. And you won't be able to tell if he is listening… But he might be able to hear you." The young doctor added, holding the door open as the young friends walked solemnly into the room.
"… Thank you…" Isis eventually whispered. "For all that you have tried to do."
It was the least that anyone could say.