Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh. Really. I don't. I know, it was a shock for me too O.O;;

Dedication: Paddy, I love you, I really do. I know all my fics are for you, but this one is especially. I honestly don't know what I did without you there to support me and encourage me before, and I'm so glad I have you now. So this piece of crap's in your glorious honor. :)

Explanation: This is written from Ryou's point of view, addressing Yami Bakura, and it's written like he's totally whacked out of his mind. So it's supposed to seem really odd, 'kies. :)

X

The thing about my walls is that they're white.

Wow. I never really realized that before. They really are. Not beige or anything, just... white. It's like stepping into a snowstorm, or visiting an all-polar-bear exhibit at the zoo, or drowning in vanilla ice cream. They're really, really, really white. It makes you almost want to shield your eyes...

I must be going mad.

You told me that, the other day. That I was going mad. I looked at you over the rim of my coffee mug, and you looked at me back, from the door. I just stared. You told me I was crazy.

Just because my walls were white.

They're better white.

Just because I spend all night keeping the crimson wash off them, it doesn't mean I'm crazy, right?

When you left, I told your back that you were crazy, too, for putting the crimson wash there in the first place.

O

"Ryou Bakura!" My head shot up.

"You okay, man?" I blinked.

"You look kind of pale." I always look pale.

I didn't say anything.

They were all looking at me funny. The brunet, the blond, the brunette, the boy with the un-categorize-able-hair. Staring at me, with their big brown, honey, blue, and violet eyes.

I blinked again. "Sorry, guys, I just zoned out there." And they all looked relieved.

What? Joey zones out all the time. He slept straight through last period, while Tristan flicked eraser bits into Tea's bag, and Yugi yawned his heart out. See? I do pay attention in school.

I don't know what last period was, though.

And I don't even think they're all in my class.

That's what you were bugging me about, before my oh-so-caring friends stepped in. You were laughing at me, because I'm losing my mind. I asked you politely to give it back.

You burnt it to cinders.

"What is it?" And they all blinked at me.

Joey was looking at me as though I were spotted in odd colours, and Tristan's head was completely on it's side, studying me through squinting eyes, while Tea and Yugi looked politely concerned.

I need more normal friends.

To normalize my not-so-normal self.

"It's lunch, dude."

"Yah, the bell just rang."

And they were inching towards the door.

"Oh."

And they were gone.

And I couldn't remember what the last thing I said was, because I was staring out the window again, and I didn't care enough to try. I either care about very little, or have difficulty telling what it is I care about. Or something spectacular and different. Or maybe I'm just crazy.

'You are just crazy.'

'Quiet, you.'

It's funny how you listen to me, sometimes.

My lunch was in my bag. My tattered school bag, my brown lunch bag, sitting there while I stared absently out the window. I wasn't hungry. I'm not usually hungry.

It suddenly occurred to me that there was a tree blocking the window, and I'd been staring at its thick leaves for the past hour.

That thought should have been a lot more sudden than it actually was.

'See, you are.'

'Quiet.'

It's funny how sometimes you don't listen to me.

'Whatever, princess.'

'Don't make fun of my hair.'

'Oh, I'm not. It's really very stylish.'

I paused.

'...Thank you?'

'For five year old girls.'

And it's funny how sometimes you don't hear a word I say, in this twisted mind of mine.

The leaves were no longer terribly interesting. I turned my head, chin in one hand, elbow on the desk. The walls were a dusty beige, nothing like my white, white walls. Not too terribly interesting. The white board hurt my head. It held a lot of math problems I had never seen before. I didn't know I was in math. My English textbook was by my other hand. The desks weren't terribly interesting.

I turned around in my seat.

And nearly jumped out of my skin.

Seto Kaiba, one has to admit, is terribly interesting. However, I don't think I'll be staring at him, any time soon.

He was reading. A little blue book with no picture on the front, and he turned the pages at lightening speeds. His hands were gripping it tightly, loosely. Like he was intrigued, but didn't care. His uniform was done up all the way – but that's got nothing to do with anything.

I know I thought I wasn't going to be staring at him, or at least any time soon. But it was a good full three minutes before he looked up at me, anyway.

"What are you looking at?" he snapped, in a politely hostile sort of way. I jumped a bit. His eyes were boring right into mine. They were really blue.

Really, really blue. It was like watching waves crash on the beach, or bluebirds fly about the sky, or the ice on a winter's twilight. But they were sharp, too. Just like the ice. I had to look away.

"Nothing."

So I picked up my bag, threw it over my shoulder, left the room, and did nothing.

I had those blue eyes in my head all day. For some reason, I couldn't get them out. Whenever I closed my eyes, there was just a lot of... blue.

'You never think about my eyes like that.'

'Your eyes aren't as nice.'

My head erupted in pain. Tristan took me to the nurse's office, and I had to go home.

I lay on my bed, and looked at my walls for the rest of the day.

And whenever I closed my eyes, a pair of nice blue ones popped up right behind them.

O

"Ow!"

I put my finger in my mouth, and sucked at the small trickle of blood coming out. It tasted coppery. Familiar.

"You scared me."

"Don't I always?"

Your arms encircled me from behind, and I glared at the cut tomato on the cutting board, and the discarded knife. You put your head on my shoulder, and your breath tickled my ear, your snowy hair my back. I closed my eyes.

"You're not real."

You're not, you're not, you're not.

Your arms tightened around me. But you're not real. You tugged my sweater a little down, and put your mouth to my bare shoulder. But you felt like it. You dragged me to the floor.

I know you're in my mind...

I'm just losing it...

X

Will be continued very shortly, with more SetoRyou-ness than this chapter had, depending on reviews.

...Please review, to be picky, but I dislike one-liners. :)

And yes, I'm aware that this fic makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, so far. :)