A/N: Hey guys! Thank you so much for all of the reviews! I was extremely happy with chapter two's feedback, considering a couple of people actually made suggestions. I am extremely happy with over twenty reviews, considering I only received an average of four per chapter when I wrote in the Invader ZIM section.

Mahado's Girl: I wanted to thank you especially, being the first review containing constructive criticism that I have EVER received here on You must understand how much this means to me. I have been writing stories here for over a year now, and have felt that something crucial was missing from each of my stories. Something was needed to make it complete. I believe that you found that out for me, and I will try hard to take your advice. I don't expect to acquire more fluent description immediately, but I promise you that I will at least try my best.

Imperfect Paradise: This story takes place four years after Battle City, making Ryou around twenty and Serenity somewhere near seventeen. Sorry for the confusion!

Distant Voice: Yeah, I debated with my beta-reader on the bluntness of his request. I had asked her how I should write that particular scene, and she assured me that it would be best if I did it that way. I had my doubts, but I trusted her anyway. I just took it as him trying to be nice. I don't know. : )

Shinestar: I don't mean to boast, but, yes, I do believe I can. I also apologize if I have offended you. I admit my review was very vague.

Elenion Anaar: Thank you for such an in-depth review! I can't wait for the update of your RyouSerenity!

NoroLimAsfaloth: You are strange, Rafael. -attacks you- RAAAAH! (Note: She's a good friend of mine in real life; I'm not being weird to a stranger)

"Hey, Serenity."

Serenity looked up at the sound of her name. Her eyes blinked in confusion; this voice was too familiar. She found herself sprawled out in a field of some sort, the blue sky above her head. She stood cautiously—unaware of her surroundings. Confusion and fear filled her trembling body as she folded her hands against her chest.

She turned to see the owner of this voice. Could it be—? "Joey?" Her voice filled with a long lost hope that had buried itself deep within the corners of her heart. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me," He told her while his messy blonde hair blew in the wind. His dark brown eyes shone with a liveliness that she had missed ever since his passing. "Look, Serenity, I just wanted to tell you that it's all going to be o—"

A deafening bang rang out, interrupting the precious words. Serenity screamed as a bullet pierced her only sibling through the heart. Blood made its way onto his shirt, and he became silent, eyes wide open with shock.

Serenity ran, calling out his name. "JOEY!" she yelled frantically. "Joey! NO!" Her voice grew louder as she ran to him, but as much as she tried, she could not reach him.

Joey, in turn, opened his blood-filled mouth and made an effort to say Serenity's name. "…help…seren…ty…I…need…help…me…"

Hot tears poured down her face, as she continued to run without progress. "JOEY!" Her knees locked and she unwillingly fell. "I CAN'T HELP YOU! PLEASE HOLD ON! I CAN'T MOVE!" She shrieked desperately, making an effort to move ANY part of her body. She was paralyzed—apparently none of her limbs could do so much as twitch.

Serenity wailed in agony. "No!"

"It's too late…" his voice fell into a whisper, mouth gurgling with blood. His eyes rolled in the back of his head as his chest froze in place, never to rise and fall again.

Serenity continued to beg. "NO! JOEY! Come back! I need you! Come back!" Her voice turned into a shrill cry; she was helpless, and there was no one there to save him…

Serenity awoke, sweat and tears drenching her face. "Joey…" she whispered hoarsely. It had been a dream…only a dream, nothing more. She took a deep breath, and yanked the sheets of the bed off of her. She wasn't home, was she? No, she was on the other side of town, in the apartment of someone she barely knew.

Where was Joey when she needed him? She wished he would be right next to her, assuring that everything would be okay. And yet, it was not okay. It would never be okay again.

Serenity wiped the sweat off of her face, and warily looked at the clock. 1:39 AM. Great.

She walked to the door; she needed to splash some water on her face. She opened it quietly, careful not to wake Bakura. Where was the bathroom in this place, anyway? As she walked out the door, she noticed the light was on in the main room. Curious, she quietly snuck a glance inside.

Bakura was at a table, his back facing Serenity. A pencil lay in his hand, moving every once in awhile when he tried to think. He was writing something, and Serenity couldn't help but wonder why he was doing this so late at night. Wasn't there time for this during the day?

She decided to watch him for a little longer. After all, it couldn't hurt, could it? She saw him ruffle his long white hair tiredly, pencil still in hand, ready to write. Once something came into his mind, he would begin writing again. He continued to repeat this odd routine, each time more sluggish than the previous attempt. He stopped once to place both hands on his face, yawning.

Serenity chose this moment to turn around and continue looking for the bathroom, but as soon as she lifted up her foot, the other rolled, causing her to fall on her side. Bakura turned at this, brown eyes filled with concern. "Are you all right?" he wondered aloud, rising from his seat to approach her.

She nodded briefly; thankfully, the pain was not excruciating. Bakura lent out a hand as soon as he reached her. She gratefully accepted the help, and pulled herself up. "What are you doing up so late?" he asked her nicely, making sure that she was able to stand without stumbling.

"I needed some water," she told him hesitantly. "I couldn't find the bathroom." A light blush formed on her face; she felt foolish.

"Please excuse me for not pointing that out earlier," he apologized gracefully. His accent was clearly British, and Serenity couldn't help but smile at his elegant voice. "The bathroom is down the hall, first door on the right." He smiled friendlily as Serenity thanked him, and headed off toward where his finger pointed. She came to a sudden halt before turning to face him.

"I don't mean to be rude, but what…?" Serenity began to ask timidly, but stopped to avoid acting nosy. Bakura noticed how she was struggling, and cut in.

"What was I writing?" Bakura said as Serenity nodded. He paused. "A letter," he told her, somewhat disappointed. "To a family member of mine that I haven't seen in years." His face saddened for a moment, but quickly returned to its normal composure. "Anything I can get for you?"

"No, but thank you anyway. I better go back to bed," Serenity excused herself, hoping she was not causing this polite boy any trouble.

"Suit yourself. Sweet Dreams!"

"Thanks, same to you."

Serenity entered the bathroom, closed the door behind her, and ran the cold water across her still trembling hands. She eagerly splashed the water on her face, and then grabbed a nearby towel to dry her face off. After doing so, she reentered her tentative room and pulled the bed sheets tightly over her weak body.

I must stop staying up so late…

Ryou walked uneasily to his room, unusually exhausted. He ruffled his hair jadedly. It was now time for the most hated part of his day: sleep. Why was it that he hated this normal human routine? It was all because of what lay inside his dreams. He did not want to see him tonight.

On a lighter note, he thought of the girl currently residing in his home. He felt extremely sorry for her and wished that he could be of some use. He knew what it felt like to be alone, to lose someone you care about. He remembered what a difficult time he went through when he first was isolated from his own family. It was no doubt the worst year of his life.

He groaned as he turned on the lights, and with a heavy sigh, changed into suitable night-wear. While sitting on his bed, he decided that if he were to get any sleep, he might as well start now. After all, it was past two in the morning.

Ryou crawled under the covers and gently laid his head on one of his three pillows. He closed his eyes, well aware of what he would soon encounter. His fear was overcome by his body's lack of sleep, and just as he expected, he had unwillingly slipped into a deep slumber.

Suddenly he found himself on a road composed of bottomless clouds. A dark shade of purple surrounded this abnormal place, along with a disturbing aura. He had grown to recognize this familiar presence with an unfathomable revulsion.

Soon enough, another being appeared in front of him. A smirk made its way upon the evil figure's face, brown eyes narrow with deceit. Its white hair was even more muddled than Ryou's. Ryou, in turn, looked at his feet.

Ryou was staring at the reflection of himself—his yami.

The spirit inside the Millennium Ring, though he had supposedly been destroyed, had lived on in Ryou's dreams, preventing any good thoughts to enter his mind at night.

"We meet again, pitiful fool," the voice cackled with a haunting disdain.

"Can't you find anything better to do than taunt me every night?" Ryou snapped, clearly irritated.

"Honestly, no," His Yami grinned deviously, folding his arms. "I have some questions for you, mortal. Although I already am you—"

"You're NOT me. Shut up."

"Ooh, feisty, are we?" the spirit ridiculed. "I suggest you knock it off. Although I am unable to physically possess you, you realize that I can still hurt you."

Ryou did not respond, and his other leered in victory. "Now, if you will do so much as listen to me, I would like to ask you something. Will you let me finish, or are you going to be stupid and continue interrupting me?"

The spirit noticed his past hikari turn his head away. "I thought so." Still, no sound came from Ryou. His yami smiled at this.

"Why is it you skipped the friend of the pharaoh's funeral?" The spirit asked bluntly, still sneering. Ryou closed his eyes tightly.

The spirit was obviously enjoying Ryou's pain. "Tell, me, my former host, could it be because you were frightened?"

Ryou tried to ignore his other, careful to not look him in the eye. His yami's eyes were one of the most frightening parts about him. If Ryou were to just glance at them, he was overcome with an abrupt weakness, causing him to lose temporary control over his mind.

"Still quiet, are we?" the spirit mocked him. "Are you so weak as to not even say one simple word?"

Silence.

"I see," Ryou's yami snickered. "You were afraid, weren't you? The death of the Wheeler boy made you uncomfortable."

Ryou began to sweat, yet continued to act unfazed.

"You liked it, didn't you?"

"I…I don't know what you're talking about," Ryou stuttered, grabbing onto his own arm for security.

"Oh, but I am positive you do. Something about this boy's death made you happy, am I right?"

"No!" Ryou blurted. "You're LYING."

"Am I? Or are you simply in denial?" His words echoed hauntingly throughout the place. The voice of his yami was full of bitterness, hate, and pure malevolence.

Ryou put his hands over his ears. "I'm not going to listen to you!" He was becoming obviously desperate now; the spirit took this as a win.

"You have no choice…"

Ryou opened his eyes at the sound of his alarm clock beeping. Could it be morning already? 8:00 am. He actually managed a whopping five and a half hours of sleep!

He irritably rose to his feet and went to the bathroom sink. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, disappointed. After staring at himself for what seemed like quite a few minutes, he whispered, "You will not win."