Yami's koi: well. Sorry I haven't updated in a while, peoples, but… heh. I'm a very busy girl these days. Who would have thought that getting drunk for the sake of a fic was a real excuse?

Neutral Man: are you referring to your Shaman King fic?

Nefertiri: that is what I call corny advertising.

Yami's koi: quiet! Well… later! Hiro.P, this chapter is for you! Thank you for the fan art, you're the first one yet to draw me some! I love it!

Yugi sighed, his bangs obscuring his amethyst orbs, now full of sadness and a downcast approach as he stared at Ryou.

"I will only ever forgive Bakura if you do, Ryou." He answered softly, feeling Ryou sub consciously retreating back into his shell. When Yugi received no response, he knew that the pale-haired boy did not want to hear him. His eyes were glazed slightly, and expressed no emotion other than a distant loneliness that the male could never possibly relate to.

"We'll leave you to get some rest." Yami said firmly, convinced that the male would not yield another word after his slight rage. He gently steered his hikari from within the room, offering Ryou a kind look, and neither spoke until they were out of the suddenly disconsolate looking building.

"I'm really worried about him, Yami." Yugi finally said, when they were almost at their front gate. Yami sighed, but did not say anything more on the subject until they were safely inside.

"Ryou must be… horrified that he has not escaped from Bakura," Yami finally said with a heavy sigh, locking the door behind them. "I can find no words of comfort for him. I have never experienced what I can only imagine to be a living hell."

Yugi shot him a look that suggested that was just the sentence he had wanted to hear.

"But I feel so helpless… I want to help him, Yami. I know I haven't seen him in a while, but Ryou said that he understood that I was in a relationship!" Yugi said in a feeble voice, not looking into his koi's eyes. He didn't want Yami to feel that it was his fault why Ryou had become so dejected, yet Yugi felt that his sentence had been delivered in such a manner.

"Perhaps Ryou is exhausted with everybody else around him being so happy," Yami suggested quietly, taking a seat next to his troubled hikari. "Perhaps he feels shunned, yet then feels guilty of being in such a state. Or maybe he does just feel so degraded by Bakura that he is the sole reason why he tried to commit suicide."

Yugi fell silent. He couldn't argue with a statement such as those. Although he knew that Ryou was barely living with himself, death did seem to be such an easy way out that he wondered why he couldn't have seen the lighter points of such an act.

"Yugi…"

Yami did not need to say anymore. They rose together, and slowly made their way to the bathroom. Here they drew a bath together: an act to try and calm their minds, to distract themselves from the travesty that had almost occurred.

The travesty that Ryou's own yami should never have even caused.

Bakura

Bakura was still cleaning the sick from the floor when the phone decided that it should ring. Glad of an excuse to evade the gradually fading, stubborn stain, the Tomb Robber answered the call.

"Hello?"

Bakura could only register a small noise of mild surprise, and antipathy, before an actual voice made itself heard.

"Oh. It's you. Well, bastard; hand Ryou the phone already! I can't be stuck here, talking to you all fucking day. I have better things to do."

Malik Ishtar, the Tomb Keeper. Great. Just what Bakura needed… or perhaps this was a further punishment from the Gods? To endure several various opinions of how people saw him now, after being the only person to give Ryou thoughts of suicide?

"Ryou isn't here, Malik." Bakura barked, tempted to slam the phone down. Before he could, however, the phone that Malik held was then passed over to Marik.

"Listen to me, you little cocky twat! Give Ryou the bastard phone, and you won't get yourself hurt, is that clear? So… why aren't I talking to Ryou?"

A threat like that to the Thief… could not go off without an explosion.

"LISTEN TO ME NOW, MARIK! RYOU IS LYING IN DOMINO HOSPITAL BECAUSE OF ME! I DON'T WANNA TALK ABOUT IT, SO FUCK OFF!" With that chilling announcement snarled down the phone, Bakura slammed the phone down on the cradle. He happened to glance at himself in the mirror, and saw that his cheeks had turned an odd shade of yellow. He was so fucked up; not even Ra could save him.

Then again, would that mean that even his little hikari, Ryou, would have no salvation from Bakura's devastating abuse? Would this petty clean up of the Bakura household really make Ryou see that the Thief had changed?

The answer, of course, is no.

Malik and Marik

"What the fuck?" Marik snarled, slamming the phone down onto the nearby desk… where it promptly shattered. Malik stood beside him, trembling at the ugliness of reality that dared to rear its head to them. No, Ryou would never let a bully such as Bakura win, would he…? Wasn't he better than that, so much better that he could ignore whatever comments that the Thief would hiss in his face?

No, Ryou could not. His soul had been dominated against his will so many times before Bakura had gotten himself a body… frequent appearances of bruises on Ryou's precious, pale face… why was this all being acknowledged now? Why could Ryou have not said anything to… well, anyone? Could the hikari have been so stupid as to truly forget the other reasons of why one should exist?

Malik then arched again, and collapsed onto the floor as an excruciating searing sensation dispersed throughout the tattoo's upon his back. Every hieroglyph seemed to burn itself away, leaving nothing more than a white-hot ache when the pain developed. Malik thrashed around like a wild man, his yami unable to restrain him, unable to quiet his screams of agony…

Then, as unpredictable as Ra himself… the pain went. It evaporated into nothingness, with no distant throb to prove that any pain had been felt there. Malik stopped writhing… and his darkness frowned deeply.

"These sudden pain bursts and Ryou's pain must somehow be connected," He said softly, stated what was obvious. Malik sighed, and shed himself of his shirt to check his back. When Marik ran a finger along the ancient scars, he could only feel one finger, and no sudden burst of pain could be felt.

"We must go to see Ryou," Malik growled at length, rising to an unstable stand. Marik rolled his eyes and lifted his hikari up onto his shoulder… before speeding out of their house.

Ryou

Nobody was with Ryou now: he was truly alone. Yami had used his insistent tone on his little soul partner so that they could both leave, without being too impolite. The effects of their leave, however, were not distracting Ryou from the thought that Yami would probably be trying to make his hikari happy again, by giving Yugi whatever he wanted.

The pale haired boy sighed, and stared down at the bandages that were so delicately wrapped around his wrist. Several tubes ran into the veins that had not been split, if he had any left at all that were like that. Ryou felt angry that Bakura had defied his wishes once more, but then, what else could have happened? Since when had that arrogant, low-life of a thief EVER considered Ryou's needs? When had Bakura EVER asked if he was all right, if there was anything that he could do? When had Bakura EVER thought about how selfish and cruel he was being, abusing and tainting the other half of his soul, for no other reason than a sadistic pleasure?

It was sickening. The entire ordeal just made Ryou want to die… yet this time; he wanted to see Bakura watching him. He wanted the Tomb Robber to know what it was like to endure every single beating, every insult, and every corrupting, disheartening lie that Ryou had accepted constantly. Ryou wanted to let Bakura understand what it was like to feel pain, and to experience the feeling of being totally alone… just like what he had.

And then, after all of the excruciating feelings had washed over Bakura, he would apologise for every single thing that he had ever done to neglect or mistreat the poor, fallen angel. Bakura would apologise for so long that he would never be able to live with himself for the havoc that he had caused… he would never be able to look at Ryou ever again without feeling stabs of regret plunging into his heart…

And he would never hurt anyone ever again.

"That is a sweet fantasy," Ryou whispered, a lone tear making its eventual way down his pale, unresponsive cheeks.

And what a desire that was. What would Ryou do now? He had just established what he now wanted to aim for in life. How this would be attained, of course, was a different matter altogether.

No worries. He could be concerned about that later… after he was fit to do anything any form of harm.

The pale haired angel shifted slightly, and winced as the various tubes that were driven into his arm were pushed in further. Ryou could not describe how weak and helpless he was feeling right then at that moment, and what he could never have been able to attain before… came to pass.

He began to cry. But not just two tears fell: wave after wave of tears fell down his cheeks, and the hikari – now so tainted and downcast – keened, screaming his agonising emotions out to the world, out to anyone who had ever felt lonely. He screamed his emotions out to anyone who had ever been neglected, betrayed, angry, lost, and used. That was exactly how Ryou felt right at that moment.

As long as Ryou was in this state, he would never be able to experience happiness and love in his life. Never would he smile as he felt a lover press gentle but insistent kisses to his brow. Never would he feel the thrills of having someone just tell him that he was amazing, and a real aid to them in their times of need. Never would he feel the accomplished rush that engulfs someone when they make someone smile after they have had a bad day. Never…

Just at that moment, several nurses and other hospital workers rushed into Ryou's room – an isolated room, with little room with just the bed and a small desk beside it.

"Master Ryou? Are you okay? Are you in any pain at all? Ryou! Please, speak to us!" They pleaded; desperate to quell the haunting, yet horribly truthful cries of how cold the world was that was escaping from Ryou's mouth.

Nothing could ever resent or deny what the fallen angel was howling. It was all true: pain was a main factor of life. What was so unjust and unfair was what makes a person who they are.

When Ryou got angry, he had a certain reaction. If he had been pushed to his limits so far that he could not return, then he would lash out, and strike something very close to him. If, however, Ryou was desperately depressed, then he would either weep and re-enter his Soul Room… or slit his wrists.

Flashback

Bakura sneered down at his hikari, grabbing fistfuls of Ryou's snowy locks and wrenching him to look at the Thief in the face.

"Things are going to change, Ryou. I can't have people thinking that I'm related… no matter how weakly… to a scrawny, pathetic, whining little shit like you!" Bakura spat, releasing his hold on Ryou before storming off, kicking several items out of his way. Ryou whimpered when he heard the front door slam shut… and he tried to turn over. Pain immediately met with his nerves, and the poor boy whimpered.

Bakura had been in one of those 'I hate everything, and it's Ryou's fault,' moods, which had, of course, resulted in the innocent hikari being brutally bruised, spat on and mocked. Ryou released a loud groan, which slowly developed into a scream. He released some of his anger, and just some of his frustration… into his ear-splitting, haunting yell.

Slowly, when Ryou had run out of air, he stopped. There was no fading away of the scream… it just stopped: almost as if an invisible hand was preventing him from making a sound. The now battered, discoloured hikari slowly rose to a stand, cradling his forehead.

He grimaced when he stared at his own reflection. No matter what Bakura had previously said about him, he had never really believe it… but this just seemed to enhance Bakura's degrading opinions of him.

Ryou's face was overly pale, which was an odd contrast when regarding the narrow strips of blood trailing from his temple. His eyes had lost their usually energetic, merry spark, and now simply looked cold and dead. Even though he knew it was a fairly pointless thing to do, a solitary tear slowly crept down Ryou's face. Surely he should be used to such treatment now? After all, this abuse was a regular occurrence, so shouldn't the hikari be adjusted to every move that Bakura made? Surely anyone would have figured out Bakura's strategy, surely they would have seen at least one flaw in his moves?

Of course, Ryou would never hurt his yami. No matter how hard he would be struck, no matter how long he was struck… Ryou could never hurt somebody so close to him. It did not matter that Bakura was so violent.

All that mattered was that he was a selfish, inconsiderate bastard who never gave Ryou a choice… other than death.

But Ryou would rather die by his own hand than by that of Bakura's.

Slowly the hikari dragged himself from within the small confines of his room. Pulling his weary, neglected body along, he eventually made it into the bathroom. Again, he removed the emergency towels from within the cupboards… and retrieved his only friends in the world.

Cold. Merciless. Expressionless. Steel. Nothing could ever mesmerise Ryou more than those sharp, taunting blades that he had stole, the thoughts of this now seemingly a distant memory. Ryou turned the blades around slightly, examining every detail on the device.

"I will always use you for this, you know that?" Ryou whispered coldly, his voice so flat and void of happiness. However, inside, he could feel the urgency to do what he wanted to. He couldn't… could not continue to restrain himself. He was losing control. Ryou felt his left arm bare itself, willing for whatever punishment its owner had to offer it…

"Feel this…"

His voice was harsh, and he knew it. He liked it. He drove the blade down suddenly, and sharply dragged it along. Ryou smirked: he felt as if he could almost feel his skin being forced apart from where it had once been joined. At that moment he froze, and savoured the moment. One hand still held his blade in place, its touch ever lingering, whilst his other stung slightly, a white mark made from where he had just cut.

"Now, I won't get very far with results like this, will I?" Ryou asked himself, his voice almost soft and encouraging. If only… if only his eyes had not been so cold, then those words would have, perhaps, been seen as genuine comfort.

After all, his slitting would probably be the last amount of that kind of sympathy he would receive… from anyone. At this thought, he hissed quietly and drew his knife back the way it came, repeating the motion over and over.

Eventually, the tingling built up into a sharp, throbbing sensation, and the poisoned hikari paused for a moment. His lips curved into an uncharacteristic, devious smirk, and he withdrew the blade from the indent that his anger, sadness and desires had helped to cause. Blood had smudged around the expanse of his wrist, staining the angel's usually flawless skin.

"You have no idea, Bakura," Ryou hissed, seething, as his eyes narrowed. His yami would never be able to experience what heavy, engulfing depression Ryou was feeling.

With that thought in mind… the light that seemingly no longer existed replaced the blade back into the cut that had just been formed… and, with a small outburst of pain… he resumed allowing the blade to kiss his skin.

End Flashback

Ryou had never paused in his screaming fit, and he cared not about the drunken, or simply surprised looks. He could not care that he was harming those near to him.

After al, could they truly relate to what he was feeling? Could they ever, honestly, know what it is like to feel hated, to feel betrayed and unloved? Could those who he struck ever really say that they had endured true, raw abuse? Could those that were trying to calm him…

… Ever know why his words were so haunting?

No. And that is purely because…

… Everything that he said was true.

Yami's koi: GAH! It's not very long, I know… but I couldn't have the next chapter being in with this one… Malik and Marik have a lot of explaining to do. Or maybe just Marik. Or maybe Isis. Or Shadii.

Neutral Man: that sucked.

Nefertiri: did it balls, I enjoyed it… a slitting scene and extra angst suits me any day. Especially with the pain. Pain rules!

Yami's koi: insanity, I tell ya. I am real sorry that this spent so long in the works… but I have other fics too, all of which are very long and complex!

Neutral Man: in other words, you can't think up of any plots.

Yami's koi: … yeah. TT I'm an id. Well… thanks again, Hiro.P! Any other fan art from anyone will absolutely make my day! Please R&R, peoples! Gotta leave ya now… plushie of Seto for reviewers?