Seto Kaiba will always be my favorite character in YGO, but if you were to ask me which character I relate to the most, the one that reminds me most of myself, then the answer will always be Ryo Bakura.
That's especially true in this piece.
.
"Do you believe in Heaven?"
Ryo was surprised to hear the question, but not in the usual way he was surprised when people asked him things. If one of his other friends asked him this, if any of his other friends had asked him, he might have wondered if they were thinking about mortality. Were they looking for some kind of reassurance, or was it just a preamble for the conundrum they were actually chewing on?
None of this was bad, exactly.
But Ryo had learned over the course of many years that people didn't ask questions about the afterlife for no reason. It was almost never about the afterlife, either. It was about death, or justice, or grief. It was about a relative who'd passed, or some grievous wrong they'd perpetuated. It was about God, or the devil, or right and wrong.
Questions about Heaven were never about Heaven.
But with Noa Kaiba, it was hard to know.
Noa delighted in moving against the grain, even when he wasn't consciously aware that he was doing it.
Eventually, Ryo landed on: "I think, perhaps, that I have to."
It was Noa's turn to look surprised. "Okay," he said. "I've asked a lot of people about Heaven lately, and I think this is the first time I've heard an answer like that. C'mon. What else you got? What's your reasoning?"
"Well." Ryo shrugged. "I mean, given all that we've seen . . . I mean, me, my friends, your brothers . . . all the magic that seems to orbit around Domino City, how much it influences everything. I kind of feel like it would be spiteful and shortsighted to not believe in Heaven, or at least some kind of afterlife, considering all that."
Noa rubbed his chin. "Hmmmm," he said. "All right. I get that. That tracks." He nodded. "So what do you think Heaven looks like? You know how movies and comic books and whatever, they'll show the afterlife being like . . . everybody has their own private Heaven, tailored to their tastes and interests. I mean, I guess they do that to Hell, too, but I'm not talking about fire and devils. I'll save that for some other day." He gestured randomly. "If you had direct control over your afterlife, what would it look like? What would it be?"
Ryo frowned. "Hm." He tapped at his own chin. "I suppose, first and foremost, my Heaven would be quiet. Mundane. I think plenty of people would call it boring." At Noa's questioning look, he continued: "I've had enough excitement for one eternity, thank you. I like the comfort of routine. I like being able to predict things."
Noa considered this. "There's a quiet kind of romance to that. I get it. All right. Quiet and predictable. What's it look like? What's your space? Paint me a picture of your sanctuary."
"I think . . . it looks like a used bookstore," Ryo said and, as soon as he said it, he knew he'd hit on something. It felt right. "One of those little places where you aren't sure if they even accept debit cards. With creaky floorboards and a strangely ornate spiral staircase leading up to the second floor. Maybe there's a basement, too, and that's where the rare books are. Also a cat. There's always a cat. If you ask, the proprietor might say that it's a cost-effective way to keep mice away, but I think that's probably a joke. I think the truth is, it gets lonely in a place like that, and having a companion is nice."
Noa leaned back in his seat. "What's the cat's name?" he asked.
Ryo mulled this over. "Annabel Lee."
Noa laughed. "You would name a cat that."
Ryo flashed a grin.
"You know . . ." Noa held out his hands. "Ryo, if you wanted a bookstore, we could get you a building. Like, you do know that, right? Aniki is always talking about how local businesses are important for the city's health, and like . . . I mean. Even if you didn't want to actually sell books, we could still set you up in a place like that."
Ryo blinked several times.
Stared.
". . . Really?"