"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls. The most massive characters are seared with scars."- Kahil Labanese

Ryou didn't think he would ever be grateful for what the Spirit of the Millenium Ring had done to his life. For nearly a decade, Ryou lived in fear that his best friends would fall into a coma and never wake up. Then, when he knew the truth, he was even more terrified. He knew what Bakura could do, he knew that no matter what he did, Bakura could always overpower him.

He lived his life trying and failing to overcome this dark force in his life. He had nearly given up a few times, but it was his friends that had kept him going. He needed to protect them. He needed to keep them safe from himself.

Because of the Spirit, Ryou knew isolation, he knew fear, and he knew desperation. He had had the lowest points of his life when he was still young, and had seen so many terrible things in the Shadow Realm that he couldn't even begin to explain to the others.

And while they say time heals all wounds, it really doesn't. He still had nightmares, flashes of uncontrollable fear whenever his mind went back to what had happened during Battle City and even before that. He probably had PTSD, but how could he explain why he had it in a way that wouldn't get him sent to a mental facility for schizophrenia?

So he made do. He had a good job in Domino City in his father's museum, and he remained close to Yuugi, Honda, Jou, Anzu, Ryuji, and Malik.

Often, Yuugi would stop by and just talk. Ryou was surprised by what he was saying. The was so desperately lonely. Even though he had people all around them, he felt so alone. Ryou would put a comforting arm around his shoulders and offer him a cup of tea while they talked it out.

More than once, Yuugi asked him how he had kept it all together. Yuugi was just dealing with lonliness. Ryou had to deal with everything that the Spirit had done.

Ryou would shrug. "The things that he did…" Ryou trailed off, trying to explain gently, "…they were hardly nice. But, it's done. I'm separate from the Spirit, and you are separate from Atem. We have to move on. It sucks, and its hard, but that's all there is to it."

Yuugi would laugh and shake his head as if that was impossible, as if he was looking for a magic spell or special potion to help him out, but knowing no such thing existed.

This time, Yuugi turned to him as he was leaving and said, "You're really strong, Ryou. I hope you've noticed for yourself." He said with a slight smile before closing the door with a click.

Ryou stared at the door, trying to understand what Yuugi had just said. Him? Strong? Hardly. He hadn't been strong enough to keep the Spirit from putting his friends into comas. He hadn't been strong enough to warn his friends when the Spirit was about to take over his body. He hadn't been strong enough to break the Spirit's control. But perhaps the Spirit wasn't a fair comparison. After all, it was an ancient Egyptian god.

Perhaps, by mortal standards, Ryou was pretty strong after all…