Erm, yeah, I'm not dead...

-X-

It seemed that Ryou’s racing mind was beyond all reason. He had no idea where he was running to, or why; for surely Bakura would slaughter him for his disobedience. The Hikari ran as fast as his emaciated legs could carry him, fleeing from the psychopath he was sure was following closely on his heels. Ryou knew that he shouldn’t have left the house. He knew he shouldn’t have pushed Bakura away, and he knew that there’d be grave penalty.

The newly drawn blood, torn from his already scarred torso by the point of a gleaming knife, had congealed, drying a dark, burnt-cinnamon colour against the alabaster pallor of his skin. The wound had stopped bleeding, yet pain still throbbed within the series of gashes, dull and dormant one moment, and sharp and agonising the next. With each movement, fresh pain sang through his body, so he slowed to a walk, heart thudding manically against his rib-cage and breath baited with dreadful anticipation.

The tears had, thankfully, stopped falling, however his beautiful, translucent eyes were red-rimmed, and the path of swollen tear-drops had been stained onto his face. In his present state, Ryou silently thanked the gods that the street was empty. The last thing he needed was an audience as he walked the streets, vulnerable and alone, scared out of his mind and garbed only in a loose pair of faded jeans, ripped to the extent of being indecent.

Bakura didn’t appear to be near; but the thief could steal through the small hours undetected just as well as he could under cover of darkness at night. Ryou knew better than to rely on his senses, when they could be so easily manipulated.

‘Hey darling.’

Ryou almost jumped right out of his skin at the two words purred in his ear. He leaped away from the speaker, actions stiff and rigid from his intense fright. He whirled round to face the other, not wanting to present his back to him, already seeing images of spiky, white hair and angry, crimson eyes flit across his mind’s eye.

However, the physical eye was met by considerably darker tones: deep brown pools as eyes, and equally dark hair, brushing his shoulders. This stranger was at least in his mid-twenties, and wasn’t particularly unpleasant-looking, but the strong stench of alcohol that clung to his breath repulsed Ryou; his unfocussed eyes disturbed him.

‘Pretty thing like you shouldn’t be out at this hour.’ His drunken gaze passed lecherously over Ryou’s awkward body. ‘Might run into someone nasty.’ He took a moment to scour Ryou’s entire frame, as the petrified teen stood frozen, blushing scarlet beneath the man’s lustful gaze. ‘Couldn’t forgive myself if you got attacked. So come back to mine, baby, I can help you. And then maybe you can help me.’

Baby? Ryou didn’t say a word; didn’t move a muscle. He gaped at the brazen stranger, his face a violent red.

‘C’mon baby, no need to act so coy.’

That word again… Nervously, the Hikari found his voice. ‘Um, n-no, thank you.’

He turned quickly, starting to walk away, but a hand clapping over his shoulder stopped him.

‘Going so soon?’ The hand tightened its grasp, fingers digging into his shoulder. Ryou squeaked his timid reply, not liking the situation one bit.

‘Come on! I know you want to; I can see it in your face. I’ll make it worth your time.’

The stranger’s tone of voice had completely changed, from flirtatious and cajoling, to arrogant and commanding. This new persona reminded Ryou too strongly of his Yami, increasing his sense of fear. The Light’s eyes shot wide open in shock when the dark-haired man pulled a few crinkled notes from the back pocket of his jeans and held them against Ryou’s lower lip.

‘I know your type.’ The man’s mouth moved mere inches away from his left ear. ‘Your pay will be greater than you could ever dream.’

‘I-I’m sorry, I don’t—I can’t understand what you mean.’

‘Don’t give me that bullshit.’

Ryou cried out as his arm was twisted behind his back, painful nerve messages shooting up to his brain. ‘Look here, my car is round the corner. You’re going to shut up, get your arse in the vehicle, and we’re going back to mine. Then we’ll find a new use for that lovely arse.’ The tight grip on his arm loosened, the hand trailing instead down the waistband of Ryou’s jeans.

Without even thinking, Ryou took his chance, pushing his elbow back into the man’s stomach and legging it as fast as he could, ignoring any agony he was in.

Behind him, he heard the footfalls pound the sidewalk and the angry shouts of his pursuer. Silently, the Hikari cursed his father’s choice in buying a property in such a seedy neighbourhood.

More shouts met the teen’s ears. With a panicked glance behind him, Ryou saw two more figures emerge from the shadows: the man’s friends? What were they going to do to him? They would catch up with Ryou eventually: what was he supposed to do then? What could he do?

The teen knew only two places to run to: one, he’d have to return to eventually anyway, but he wished to delay that as long as possible; and the other... he had promised to help him if he asked. Surely this’d be as desperate a time as any...

... But what about the scars covering most of his entire body? How would he explain those? Awkward questions would be asked, and answers would be difficult to give. But what else could he do?

Suddenly, Ryou swerved left, down a side alley that linked two streets together, hurtling through the shadows at full speed, not wanting to be caught in that place. His destination wasn’t far; if he kept up his agility and stamina, he could reach it in time.

‘Hey boy!’ He could hear one of the men behind him crow. ‘You can run, but you can’t hide.’

Ryou grimaced at the cliché line, sprinting up to a block of flats, frantically for a particular button.

‘Hello?’ A sleepy voice muttered blearily through the intercom. ‘Hello? Anyone there?’

‘It’s me.’ Ryou whispered hurriedly, glancing behind him. Three menacing figures advanced towards him.

‘Ryou-kun?’

‘Hai. Can I come up please?’

The other voice sounded happily confused when it answered. ‘Of course, but—.’

The voice within the building was cut off at the sound of a muffled scream, and then the connection was cut as Ryou was obviously torn away from the intercom.

‘Ryou? Ryou-kun?’ It became immediately obvious that his shouts had no effect. ‘Shit.’

He grabbed a leather jacket from the rack by the door, then throwing the door open to rescue Ryou from whatever fate had befallen him.

-X-

‘Damn.’ Two muscle-bound males grabbed each of Ryou’s arms, effectively immobilising him. The third, considerably smaller one ran a finger down the side of the teenager’s face, sliding his tongue lecherously over his lips. ‘You really are very pretty.’

Ryou shuddered: he was cold, afraid, and the stench of alcohol on the strangers’ breath repulsed him. His only hope was that they’d kill him once they’d finished with him, thus ending his perpetual misery. The man leaned in, his movements reminding Ryou of a snake.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ A contemptuous voice cracked through the air, its tone exasperated and haughty, although blatantly tired. It distracted Ryou’s attackers; however each of their grips were not released.

‘Who the fuck are you?’ The third thug sneered, being the first to recover.

‘This guy’s boyfriend. I suggest you unhand him now, and you can go home tonight minus criminal records, and minus penalties for sexual assault.’

The trio glared at the speaker, the larger two letting go of Ryou’s arms to take a step forwards in an imposing manner. The speaker however, with his long black hair streaming loose over his shoulders, drew out a cell phone, waving it tauntingly at them. Pointedly, he punched in three numbers. ‘One little button.’

The three glanced worriedly at each other; obviously, they possessed very few brain cells between them, and would have never have started anything at all had it been for alcohol in their systems. The bulkier two looked to the better-looking third –the original attacker—for leadership.

‘Three!’ The raven-haired youth shouted out in warning. ‘Two!’ The cell phone switched hands, and all three pairs of eyes followed it.

‘One!’ In mimicked slow motion, the speaker closed his thumb over the ‘call’ button. ‘Time’s up, boys. If I was a kind, generous person, I’d give you one last chance. However, as it is—.’

‘Yeah, whatever.’ The ring leader sneered quickly. ‘We can do better than this filthy whore any day.’ His cronies nodded in agreement, murmuring incomprehensible crap.

‘Really?’ Ryou’s rescuer raised his eyebrows in disbelief, however let it slide. Waving one hand dismissively at them, he held the other out to the white-haired adolescent who hurried past his attackers and, although he didn’t accept the pro-offered hand, ducked through the door the other held open for him.

‘I bid you goodbye.’ The dark-haired boy called out archly, bowing mockingly at the waist, before slamming the door shut.

Without a word, he pointed Ryou in the direction of a tiny, claustrophobia-inducing elevator, getting in with him and pressing the button for the ninth floor.

‘Don’t pay any attention to those bastards, Ryou-kun.’ The taller, darker teenager was the first to break the silence, deliberately averting his eyes from the multiple scars on Ryou’s torso, which he attempted to hide with arms equally thick with afflictions. ‘You’re worth a thousand of any cheap fuck they can scrounge.’

‘Am I?’

‘A million.’

Ryou bowed his head, a light blush reddening his cheeks at the compliment, but not believing a word of it. He sighed, his body automatically facing away from his hero, but he knew it was no use; the other was well aware of the lacerations upon his flesh. A sudden beep almost made Ryou jump out of his marred skin, flinching at the loud sound the doors made as they scraped open. The doors revealed a couple of teenagers about their own age smoking roll-ups in the corner of the corridor, but they didn’t even acknowledge their presence, so the pair managed to sweep, unseen, to the third apartment along with ease.

Inside, the apartment was small and dark, lit only by the very weak glow cast in by the rising sun. Instantly, the other boy disappeared into the only other room, emerging again almost the next moment, presenting Ryou with a long-sleeved black top, which he accepted gratefully.

‘Arigato, Otogi-san.’ Ryou whispered softly, bending at the waist in a meek bow, which surprised Otogi, although he did not show it.

‘It’s fine, Ryou. Seriously. Just as long as you’re alright.’ He peered at the emaciated teen queryingly. It was painfully evident that the other boy was exactly the opposite.

‘You should get some sleep.’ Ryuuji advised seriously. ‘You look completely shattered.’

Otogi wasn’t exactly looking refreshed either. He looked odd without his trademark kohl, thickly ringing his eyes, streaking downwards to his jawbone in a perfect black line. Whereas many would have believed that Otogi Ryuuji had no forehead, the stretch of ivory skin left exposed with the absence of his beloved head band proved them wrong. His straight, ebony locks were loose instead of being held back in their customary ponytail and fell like a dark waterfall, cascading past his shoulders. Despite his obvious exhaustion and lack of eyeliner, he was very striking.

‘I’m fine, thank you.’

Ryuuji gave him a half smile, worryingly. ‘That’s a lie, Ryou.’

The pale boy shrugged, as if to say ‘what isn’t?’ Pensively, Otogi chewed his lower lip, eyes glazing slightly as he thought.

‘Stay as long as you like.’ He said finally, just when Ryou thought he wasn’t going to conclude his lengthy reverie with conversation. The white-haired teen forced a weak smile, squirming as he politely declined the offer. He didn’t want Otogi’s pity. He didn’t want his sympathy, and he especially didn’t want his charity.

‘No jokes, Ryou-kun: stay the entire year if you need to.’

‘I-I really don’t think that would be necessary.’ Ryou inclined his head respectfully. ‘But thank you.’

Ryuuji sighed. ‘’Well, there’s no way I’m letting you leave this building until it’s properly light. The last thing you need is a replay of just now.’

‘I wouldn’t want to bother--.’

‘It’s not a bother.’

‘I don’t want to get in your way.’

‘You won’t.’

‘But I--.’

‘Ryou!’ The boy flinched violently, leaping back from Otogi apprehensively. Pulse racing, he peered up at the other teenager as though he expected to be struck, his large, green eyes fearful.

Otogi looked shocked, his eyes widening in bewilderment. ‘Ryou...’ He said, his voice a lot softer, regretting that it had risen at all. ‘Ryou-kun, I’m sorry, I didn’t think... Sorry.’ He finished lamely. Did Ryou really think I’d hit him?

The dark-haired boy grimaced, feeling an incredible sense of guilt that he barely understood. Silently, Otogi reached out, pulling Ryou to him in an embrace that he correctly assumed would not be returned. Nevertheless, he entwined his arms around the fragile boy’s shoulders, mentally remarking on how narrow and thin they were. Ryou stood awkwardly within the encirclement of Otogi’s arms, completely rigid, just waiting for the other to release him; which he did after what seemed an age.

‘Ryou.’ Otogi looked into his face evenly, speaking solemnly. ‘You will be no obstacle at all. I insist that you stay for at least a couple of hours. I am going to feed you, and then you are going to get some sleep.’

‘But I--.’

‘No arguments, Ryou.’ Ryuuji cut him off obstinately, lightly touching his shoulder to steer him towards the cramped corner of the apartment dedicated to culinary purposes.

‘Eat.’ The dice-obsessed teen ordered, placing a plate of food before him.

‘But--.’

‘Eat!’

Ryou bit his lip, uncertain. If he ate, Bakura would know. The boy didn’t know how, but the tomb robber would find a way. He could feel it. Then Bakura would know that his Hikari had been with another, and would most definitely leap to false conclusions. It was not a situation that Ryou was comfortable to be in; far from it.

‘Otogi-san--.’

Ryuuji picked up a pair of chopsticks, holding them expertly between his deft fingers, lifting a morsel of food to Ryou’s lips.

‘Open.’

The adolescent did open his mouth, but in order to politely decline. Seizing his chance, Otogi shoved the food in Ryou’s mouth, much to the other’s surprise and horror. Panicking, he considered spitting it out, but under Otogi’s watchful eye, he forced himself to chew and swallow.

Ryuuji smiled in satisfaction, offering the chopsticks to the other boy, who saw no other choice but to accept them.

‘Good boy.’ Otogi grinned; stifling a yawn, as Ryou hesitantly began to eat. The white-haired youth froze momentarily at Otogi’s lexis, the two words being a favourite phrase of Bakura’s.

‘Something wrong, Ryou-kun?’ Otogi’s forehead creased in concern, staring intently at the boy.

‘N-No.’ Ryou denied quickly, distracting himself with the meal before him. As he ate, Otogi watched him as though expecting him to hide bits of food to avoid consuming them. His constant gaze unnerved Ryou, who kept glancing anxiously at his vigilante, silently willing him to look away.

-X-

Holy crap, that took forever! I had to cut that chapter short, I'm really bored of typing now. Sorry guys