AN: I edited so much of this story yesterday, my fingers still hurt.

I just realized that this is the first chapter with a genuine Tendershipping moment xD

Anyway, long chapter ahead.

You guys deserve it `cause you're beyond amazing =]

Borderline

"So angels…

Inside is the only way out."

-Vienna Teng, "Drought"

18 ; You Won't Tell What I Said

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!, and this storyline is absolutely, positively fictional. I mean no offense to anyone.

Ryou blames music.

Ryou blames music, because music made it okay.

He figures he was already a bit warmed up to the idea of everyone playing together because of Duke thanking him that one time.

Sure, when Duke first thanked him, Ryou brushed him off and walked away with a rude "whatever", but that was just Ryou. When Ryou feels uncomfortable like he did, Ryou gets nasty and brushes the situation off and tries to act like it didn't affect him when it really did.

But as much as he felt weird around Duke's kindness, and as much as he loathed to admit it, the sincerity and gratefulness in Duke's comment made Ryou hate the whole situation just a little bit less.

And he thinks that because of that he was more open to the experience, in a way.

But then, of course, music entered the picture.

And when music showed up, well…Ryou's hate was completely gone from that point on. Because if music was involved, in Ryou's opinion, it was okay.

That one afternoon when all of them first played together, when each person in the Art Room threw in a bit of their own talent and the whole ward lit up with wonderful sound, Ryou knew it was magic.

The magic of music completely changed his mind.

As hard as it was to believe, Ryou was warming up to more than just Bakura.

And now, every day, he and Duke and Joey and Seto and everyone all get together, and they play. They play and play and only stop when they have to.

Those who can hop from one instrument to another instrument do, and they all share songs or tips with each other.

Ryou decides that this sort of "musical camaraderie" is the closest thing he'll ever get to really helpful therapy at Rockford.

But the most interesting thing to come out of this all is, now, Ryou strangely isn't worried. Ryou isn't worried that he's going to lose Bakura, because now Bakura's not his only friend.

Sure, Bakura's still his best friend, but he doesn't rely on Bakura like he did before.

Now, he's got Yugi and Seto and Duke and Joey and even Tristan.

And, for now, Ryou dubs these new friendships "okay".

But just for now.

Music has brought out interesting things in other people, too.

Ryou notices that Tristan is actually socializing with people now. He doesn't stay locked up in his room; he comes every day at 12:45 and plays for hours with them all. Even if he doesn't really talk, he's still there.

Joey seems a tiny, tiny bit more confident in himself with music. He plays and doesn't let anything stop him; he knows music and he knows it well.

Duke isn't one of the "guards", anymore. He's not this scary, annoying, unknown authority figure anymore.

Now, Duke is one of "them".

He's funny and witty and happy and just a great guy. He's nothing like Jared. And everyone loves him for it.

Yugi and Seto seem happier. They smile a lot and laugh and joke.

And even Bakura sits back and smirks more than he did before.

But most of all, Ryou realizes he isn't still obsessing about The Secret. He's not worried about ratting Duke out or Jared and everyone trying to "get inside Bakura's head".

He just lets it all be for now.

No doubt, though (oh, no doubt), if needed, Ryou still has The Secret.

And Ryou will use it.

Yugi plays a quick rhythm on the drums.

Then, he adjusts the blond bits of his hair back out of his face and places the drumsticks down.

It's Friday afternoon at about 2:30, and everyone is just resting.

They're all sitting, some holding instruments in their hands, others not. It's silent, until finally, Tristan stands up.

"I'll be right back," he mumbles, and steps over Duke, who's lazily sprawled out on the floor.

Once he's gone from the room, Ryou blurts out,

"I can't believe he's actually here with us."

A chuckle resonates throughout the room.

"Tell me about it," Yugi says, and rolls his eyes a little.

Then there's silence again.

Ryou takes a deep breath in.

He looks over to his right.

On the piano bench lies Bakura. His hair hangs over his face, as usual, and he is blankly staring at the ceiling.

Ryou hasn't talked to Bakura in a week and a half.

They haven't said more than one or two words to each other.

There have been too many other people around to talk to, and since everyone's days were now filled only with therapy, eating (he and Bakura were even silent at the lunch table together), and the Art Room, they didn't really talk outside of music, either.

And quite honestly, Ryou's sick of it.

He misses his best friend.

"Bakura…"

He feels nervous (to his utter shock) as he reaches forward slowly and taps Bakura's shoulder.

The boy turns and stares at him, and Ryou feels his heart pound and he smiles as a smirk crawls on the other boy's face.

"Hey, Ryou," Bakura greets cheerfully and then sits up. "Long time no talk."

Inside, Ryou's bursting with joy that he's being spoken to and not getting snubbed or yelled at, because for a while there, it kind of seemed like Bakura was mad at him.

But on the outside, Ryou just nods. Then, he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

"How did he do it?"

Bakura blinks. "Who?" he replies.

Ryou stares. "Tristan. How did Tristan manage to convince everyone he was clean? Like, didn't they do tests or whatever to see if he had drugs in his system?"

Bakura smirks.

"I love that you wonder about this kind of stuff," he says, and Ryou beams.

He just got a genuine twisted Bakura compliment.

Before Bakura has a chance to answer, Seto's tired voice chimes in,

"There was a point they stopped testing him for drugs or alcohol. They figured he was far enough into the rehab process to stop checking up on him. He managed to stay clean up until after they stopped the tests; then after, it was safe and he and Andy arranged it and Andy brings him the pot and he smokes it in his room. No one checks either, `cause he's pretty freakin' good at hiding it."

Everyone's silent.

Ryou squirms a little.

"You…know about Tristan?" he asks.

Seto stares at Ryou out of the corner of his eye, wordlessly. Yugi is the one that takes the liberty of actually answering.

"We all know, Ryou. We just pieced suspicious things we noticed together bit by bit, and after a while, it became pretty clear that Tristan wasn't clean. Then, after that one day you and Bakura went in his room and talked with him, we knew something was up without a doubt."

Ryou frowns.

He just lost a secret with Bakura. Apparently, the fact that Tristan was still doing pot in his room thanks to Andy wasn't that unknown, after all.

One of the few precious things he gets to share with his best friend: secrets. And he just lost one.

He doesn't like that at all.

Ryou pulls on Bakura's arm.

"Come on," he urges almost desperately (which scares him a little bit) and stands up from the chair next to the piano bench that he was sitting in.

Bakura gives him a weird look, but he sits up from his relaxed position and follows the younger boy anyway. The two wordlessly walk out into the hallway, and they ignore all curious looks shot at them from the guys as they leave the Art Room.

Finally, once alone and sure that there are no guards around, Bakura pulls Ryou's grip off of him. "What's wrong?" he asks, his tone oh-so slightly annoyed.

Ryou just keeps walking farther down the corridor.

Bakura follows.

"Ryou," he prods. "Answer me."

Finally, the younger boy flies around. His face is etched in a frustrated, almost sad look, and he huffs, his pouty lips set in a frown.

"We don't have anymore secrets," he softly complains, crossing his arms and looking to the side, sounding more like a six-year-old boy complaining about not having any more cookies for dessert than a jealous eighteen year old complaining about his relationship with his best friend.

It's so Ryou that Bakura can't help but smirk.

"Oh really?" Bakura responds, raising an eyebrow. "That's what you're so upset about? Secrets?"

Ryou stares at him; he can't help but catch the mocking tone in his friend's voice.

"Yeah," he says. He's decided he's going to ignore that mocking tone. "It's just…the tunnels were supposed to be our secret, but everyone showed up and now all the guys know about them. The Art Room and music were supposed to be our secret, but once again, everyone else came into the picture. Now, our little talk with Tristan and discovering that he smokes pot isn't apparently a secret of ours, either! And then, like, when Duke showed up and everyone else showed up to start playing music with us I was so friggin' jealous that you have no idea! That was supposed to be our special thing!"

Ryou pauses. He takes a breath in and avoids looking at his friend's face, and before he can stop himself…

"I don't like this, Bakura," he finally whispers. He looks down at his shoes. "I haven't talked to you in so long. I feel like I'm kind of losing you. Because, like, even though I have other friends now, you're still my best friend. You're still, like, my favorite, or whatever."

Silence.

Ryou's heart begins to pound.

What has he just done?

He just poured emotions out that he didn't even know he could feel anymore. And he poured them out to the most emotionless person he knows—Bakura. Now, Bakura probably thinks he's a weakling. He probably thinks that he's a horrible sociopath. He probably thinks it's funny or maybe insulting or infuriating or—

"You like secrets?"

Ryou's head flies up. He stares at his friend, wide eyed.

That wasn't quite the reply he expected.

Bakura is staring at him blankly, but there's a teeny spark of thoughtfulness in his eye if you look closely.

"Yeah. I do," Ryou finally manages to get out in response. "I used to tell secrets all the time when I was a kid; people hated me for it."

Then, it happens.

Bakura plants the smallest, most tender of kisses on the corner of Ryou's mouth.

It's…interesting.

Ryou's never really been this close with that many people before. Not truly close like right now. (Which scares him and fascinates him all at once.)

And it's extra weird because, he enjoys it.

Aren't sociopaths supposed to be numb to feelings?

But wait.

Ryou's only a borderline sociopath.

...But Bakura's a total sociopath.

And now Ryou doesn't know what to think. But Ryou won't question it, of course.

The last thing Ryou wants to do now is make Bakura angry.

Bakura throws his head back, puts his hands on his hips, and laughs.

Ryou smiles despite himself. It's a true laugh, and Ryou loves it.

"So…" he starts, but Bakura interrupts by gliding up and putting his arm around Ryou's shoulder, and then the two begin to stroll down the hallway some more.

"You want a secret? Okay. Do you know why Yugi's here?" Bakura says rather casually.

Ryou shrugs, trying his best to ignore the awkward blush creeping up his cheeks from ''the incident'' that just occurred.

"Something to do with OCD, right?" he offers.

Bakura purses his lips together thoughtfully.

"Mmm, kind of. But he got the OCD `cause of me," he explains, and at that last part, his voice takes on this sickly prideful tone that, when equipped with the Bakura-smirk, sends a chill down Ryou's spine.

"Oh," Is all Ryou gets out, but his eyes are glowing with curiosity.

"He pretty much went crazy after I left for Rockford. At least, that's what I overheard his parents saying," Bakura then pauses before adding, "I eavesdropped on the first meeting to bring him here, by the way," he explains, and Ryou chuckles. "Basically, he blamed himself for my suicide attempt, and always wanted to try his best and be perfect in everything so he wouldn't `cause a problem like that again', quote-un-quote, thus sparking violent obsessive behaviors."

"Makes sense," he admits, and Bakura shrugs.

"I guess. In a twisted way," the older boy replies.

Now, the two stop strolling and are standing in front of the living room.

Bakura pulls Ryou's hand.

"Come on," he says playfully with a smirk, and before Ryou can protest, they're in the living room, the "un-cool", "totally off limits" room, plopped down on a stiff, ugly, yellow chaise lounge.

Ryou frowns.

"Why are we in here?" he asks.

Bakura shrugs.

"I dunno. `Cause no one else is."

Ryou smiles and doesn't complain anymore.

Bakura then leans back, resting his head in Ryou's lap. He begins fiddling with his fingers and Ryou begins fiddling with Bakura's soft hair.

"Now, moving on. Wanna hear the story of Seto and Joey?" he asks and looks up at Ryou from his point of view as best he can (Which is really rather adorable looking.).

Ryou nods eagerly.

"Okay. So, basically, with those two, they were already kind of messed up before Rockford. Joey was teased all the time during his entire childhood and had the self-esteem of a rock. Seto was depressed, which is what they say causes extra-horrible nightmares like his in the first place, and was sent to some weird camp where satanic kids beat him up. The two became friends in their senior year of high school, and as the years went along, their problems escalated. Finally it got to the point where Seto refused to go into his bedroom or even the upstairs because it reminded him of falling asleep and having nightmares too much, and Joey refused to, like, leave his room because he was so socially nervous and cut off. That's when they shipped them off to Rockford—together. The two have been close forever. Tristan followed Joey and Seto here shortly after, and as far as I can tell, Andy's not psycho and won't be joining us any time soon," Bakura tells, not missing a beat and quickly explaining the entire story.

As soon as he's done, Ryou's jaw is hanging wide open.

"…Wow," is all he manages to blubber out.

Bakura nods.

"Yeah. We're all pretty screwed up."

Ryou swallows.

"How do you find all of this out?" he asks, truly in awe.

Bakura smirks.

"I have my ways. Now, what do you say we go back and finish that one chorus?"

Ryou is angry.

He's torn absolutely everything apart in his room. Shirts are strewn about, his jeans are hanging across chairs, and he still can't find them.

"Where did I put it?" he groans to himself, and runs his hands through his hair, frustrated. He takes a deep breath, attempting to pull himself together a bit, and puts his hands on his hips. He scans the room once more.

His favorite shirt.

A dark purple and black striped one.

He doesn't even remember where he last saw it, because for the past week and a half he's been wearing his other shirts and hasn't paid much attention to it like he normally would.

Finally, Ryou sighs again and decides to check his bedside table once more. He bends down to open the drawer when—

A shuffle of paper.

Something falls next to him.

He looks.

There, on the ground, lies a brown book. A pen is tucked into one of the pages, sticking out of the top, and Ryou recognizes it right away.

All worries about losing his favorite shirt fly away.

Bakura's journal.

At first, Ryou can't really move. It's a total shock to have something so guarded all of a sudden fall in front of you, and Ryou also knows that, knowing Bakura, he's probably got the thing booby-trapped or something. Ryou doesn't want to risk anything by being too hasty. Not to mention the fact that The Journal was the one thing Bakura seemed freakishly protective of, and in a way, he wants to respect his friend's feelings.

But then again, Bakura's journal is lying out in plain sight and no one else is around and Ryou is Ryou.

So, slowly, oh-so slowly, he bends over towards the object.

Gently, he reaches out, and his fingertips graze the top of the book. It's smooth. Ryou takes a breath in and picks it up.

He swallows as it opens and he holds it in his hands.

The milky pages are rougher than Ryou expected as his fingertips brush over them, but if he had to guess, he'd assume that a sturdy page is the kind of thing a writer wants.

The paper itself is covered in neat, black lines of cursive. The writing is fluid, full of emotion—the exact opposite of the writer.

Along the sides of the writing, in the border or sometimes around a paragraph or sentence, drawings decorate. Long, twirling swirls and lines and bats and birds and knotted trees are sketched in dark ink.

Ryou begins to read.

I drive you crazy, it starts, You can't handle me. These "doctors" that work with Ward 227 can't handle me. Therapy is filled with clever lines and witty smiles and bent truths and surprising twists —not "breakthroughs" and "discoveries". These "psychiatrists" can't "heal" me no matter what they try. No method or theory will ever fix me. And you know what? I'm fine with that. I'll never leave them—or you. I'll never quite leave this snake pit. I may be sent somewhere else, another hospital maybe, even jail. But the impressions I leave here at Rockford on the guards and doctors and patients will always be here, etched into the darkest corners of memories. And as for me? Well, I'll always be toying with thoughts and feelings and people. It's who I am. It's a habit.

Ryou bites his lower lip.

I drive you crazy.

Who did Bakura address this entry to?

Ryou notices that what he's reading is in the middle of the journal. So, curious, he flips to the first page and his brown eyes widen as he notices the date.

Two years ago.

Bakura's had this journal since he first came to Rockford.

But, also, Ryou notices that Bakura's earlier journal entries are not addressed to anyone in particular. That means that the person that Bakura's writing to apparently is newer to the ward.

Ryou quickly leafs back to the page he was reading earlier.

Now, enough about Rockford and how useless it is. We both already know that. Let's talk about something else, shall we? How about you? I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. A million and one times—I hate you. But you know what else? I think I'm only supposed to hate you; I don't think I really do. I think, to be honest, I absolutely find you to be one of the most interesting, truthful, eager, amazing people I've ever known. And for me, a full-blown, proud sociopath, to admit something like that is saying something.

I've watched you change. You came here filled with a way of thinking that was so similar to mine that it almost scared me (Almost. I caught myself before it actually did.). But your ideas and feelings were still so fresh—you hadn't learned to fully master the talents of being a sociopath. So I took you under my wing. At first, I thought it would just be a quick project that wouldn't take long—no strings attached. It would give me someone else to make mischief with. But then…I got to know you. I got to know you, and you got to know me.

And you loved everything I was and still am.

Talk about an ego boost, huh? We became "best friends". As time went by, I watched you become more and more like me, proudly. I watched you feel confident in yourself; I watched you be sly and clever; I watched you not be afraid to the fullest extent.

You always try to hang out with me. You get jealous when I don't pay all my attention to you.

I'm stuck in your system. You can't get rid of me; I'll always be there. I've taught you. Now, you've embraced yourself fully.

Ryou can hardly breathe as he reads the last sentence,

You're like me now, Ryou. And you always will be.

The Journal is lying on the other side of the bed.

Ryou's at the head of the bed, knees curled up to his chest, his chin tucked in them, letting his eyes peer out across towards the very end of the mattress where the book lies.

Now Ryou knows.

Ryou knows why Bakura doesn't want anyone to read what he writes.

Because when he writes, Bakura writes his feelings.

And that's so unlike Bakura that it's scary.

Ryou swallows.

He feels like he's in the Twilight Zone or something. He feels groggy and weird because he's not happy and hyper and bubbly like he normally is, and he's still in shock from reading what Bakura wrote to him.

He's not sure what to think of it quite yet.

Bakura has a point.

Ryou is so much like Bakura now. They are best friends. And Ryou knows that if and when he leaves Rockford, the memories of knowing Bakura will never leave him. And he knows that the habits Bakura has helped him hone and bring out will never totally leave him, either.

For some reason, that terrifies him.

And he can't quite figure out why.

Ryou reaches over and picks up the journal. He opens it; this time, it falls to a page written about an adventure of Bakura's in the tunnels.

He smirks a little bit as he reads the entry. It's filled with witty, sarcastic, cynical comments so like his best friend. As soon as he's done reading it, he sighs heavily.

Why is this upsetting him so much?

All of a sudden, the door to the room opens. Ryou's heart rate flies and he looks at who's entering.

In walk Yugi, Seto, Joey, and Tristan. They're all talking and laughing and don't notice Ryou until the door's shut.

Yugi smiles at first. "Oh hey, Ryou!" But then he frowns as soon as he sees his roommate's upset face. "W-What's wrong?"

Ryou swallows.

Should he show them?

Should he show them The Journal?

Should he reveal to them a secret, mind-blowing side of one of the most enigmatic characters they've probably ever known? Or should he keep it inside his head?

For once in his life, Ryou doesn't feel like having a secret.

He throws the journal out in front of him on the bedspread.

Yugi's eyes widen and a few gasps resonate throughout the gaggle of young men.

"Is that…?" Seto starts, pointing.

Yugi nods. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

Joey stares, unblinkingly. Then, he whispers out,

"We see him write in it all the time. But, never before has anyone actually—"

All of a sudden, a sharp comment from Yugi cuts Joey off,

"Did you read it?"

Ryou looks up into the boy's amazing purple eyes that are swirling with utter shock, a bit of jealously, and some anger.

Ryou nods, wordlessly.

Yugi purses his lips together.

"It fell in front of me when I was looking for my striped purple shirt. Like, I don't even know how it got in here!" Ryou says, suddenly defensive.

Yugi frowns.

"He hides it in here. They don't let him keep anything in seclusion, and he won't hide it in a public place like the TV room. I've seen him sneak it in here and hide it under your mattress. I'm surprised you've only just found it."

He pauses.

"But, unlike you, I respect his privacy and never looked in it, even though I knew where it was," he finishes, glaring a little.

Ryou feels anger bubbling inside of him.

"Look, man, there's not even anything in it that exciting! Only a couple entries about his adventures in the tunnels or whatever and a couple of lines of lyrics!" Ryou exclaims, knowing that he's lying.

But he doesn't want to make it seem too enticing, and he feels like those entries that Bakura wrote to him are going to stay locked in Ryou's head and Ryou's head only.

All of a sudden, Seto flies to the head of the group.

"Seriously? Can we read them? That sounds interesting." he says excitedly.

Ryou blinks.

There's an awkward silence.

Ryou and Yugi look at each other for a moment. Their gazes don't falter one second. Then, Yugi sighs.

"Fine."

All the boys rush up to the bedside, and Ryou carefully opens The Journal to the correct page to let the group read about Bakura's tunnel adventures and a few lyrics.

As they read, everyone's absolutely entranced. Even Yugi seems really into it for all his previous hesitation.

Finally, they're done.

There's silence at first. Then,

"His lyrics are good," Tristan mummers, and everyone turns in shock.

Tristan stares.

"What? They are!" he exclaims in defense.

Everyone bursts into chuckles.

Joey sighs.

"We should ask him if we can put some of them to song," he whispers.

Seto smiles.

"Excellent idea, Joey."

Joey smiles shyly.

At the thought of confronting Bakura about his journal, Ryou's eyes widen to the size of cup saucers. He flies up, grabs the journal, and thrusts it back under the mattress.

He turns back to the group. Everyone's faces are etched with shock and annoyance.

Ryou glares.

"No. We are not going to tell him about this," he says, his tone completely and utterly serious.

Seto glares.

"Why? `Cause you're afraid he'll blame you for sharing it with everyone and you'll lose your `oh-so-special' friendship?" he hisses.

Ryou returns Seto's nasty stare.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he says roughly, and with one huff and frown, Seto leaves. Joey follows, along with Yugi.

Tristan is the only one left standing with Ryou alone in the room.

Ryou sighs.

"What, Tristan?" he asks, his tone tired and not in the mood to be yelled at again.

Tristan shrugs.

He starts to walk out of the room.

But before he does, he reaches onto the desk by the door, moves a piece of paper, and grabs something.

Then, he puts the folded fabric down on the dresser.

"Nothing. I just found your shirt."

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