This is an AU that takes place immediately after Season Zero's conclusion.

Do you…Do you remember, now…Ryo?

He is running. Rain roars in his ears. His feet feel frozen. His lungs are burning. He does not care.

The first turn is ahead of him and he barely stops himself from skidding as he takes a hard right. He is almost there. He can-no-he must make it before they find him again.

Do you or do you not, Ryo? It is a simple question. I would expect my landlord to know the answer.

The Voice is not real. The spirit has been dead for almost a week, now. The Voice is truly just in his head. If the rain was not pelting into his face so hard, Ryo would have realized he was crying.

Big Brother, say you remember. Please, it would make me and Kitty so happy.

Ryo trips and crashes onto the pavement. The tan coat he wears is stained and torn by the concrete. He does not feel his skinned palms bleed. He does not feel what should be blinding pain in his left hand.

Oh god,

No.

That was his sister's voice. Amane's voice. He is too late. It is coming, and he is too late. Soon he won't be able to move and it will come. Ryo looks up. His face is contorted in anguish until he spots it. He has made it. He is saved.

Ryo, honey, you should not deny this. It will only make it worse. Don't make this hard on yourself, please.

Ryo ignores his mother as he gets to his feet. The anguish and the misery are gone, replaced only by a numbness that seeps into his very core. His face betrays no emotion.

Landlord! Do you remember or do you not! Answer me, you little brat. I know you can hear me. I know…

Ryo takes the first step onto the bridge and then the second and then another and another until he has reached the midpoint. His green eyes are downcast, dead. The left hand that lies limply at his side is throbbing. His whole body is trembling. The trembling might be from the rain, but that is doubtful. He does not feel cold, after all.

I know that you can hear me. I know that you remember.

Ryo places his hands on the stone ledge and hauls himself up. The wound on his left hand tears and blood has soaked through the bandages, but he does not even glance down to acknowledge it. The rain is falling harder now, and he almost loses his balance and nearly falls back onto the road. That would not do. He is too tired to haul himself up onto the ledge again.

I remembered, too. I have always remembered. At least…

Ryo blinks once. The heart that was pounding so hard from exhaustion has slowed. Below him, the waters churn violently from the storm.

At least, until you killed me. The Voice sounds distant and cold. Before you betrayed me in Monster World for some strangers.

Ryo cannot fight the numbness inside enough to cry. He breathes in the frigid air one last time before he leans forward.

Now, you are the only one who remembers.

While gravity takes control from Ryo, he sees the event that he was trying to outrun. He sees the first of the images, which he won't be able to finish.

Who remembers that they are all dead.

Sightless, staring eyes. Twisted metal and bone and so much blood.

That Mother, Eric, (that annoyance)… That Amane are all dead.

The water is rushing up to meet him. While the wind whips his white hair into a shimmering trail behind him, there is a roaring in his ears.

And that it's our fault. All my fault. I am alone.

When the water rushes down his throat and drags him under, it is his own voice that he hears. The spirit has been dead for almost a week. Otherwise, the icy metal ring against his chest would have burned the second he had stepped out of his house fifteen minutes ago. The spirit would have been furious. He would have stopped him and… and…

I am alo… going home.

He cannot breath or move. The current buffets him and holds him under, but his arms and legs are too heavy, too much like lead to have allowed him to swim if he had wanted to.

At a house with large windows… once home…, Mother is there and Amane too. See, they are smiling. He knew that this was the right way home. They are smiling, and the one his sister calls Kitty is there, too. He is not smiling.

He can barely see. The dark waters had looked the same when he had first sunk beneath the surface, anyways. But, a few moments ago, he had been able to spot the bridge, at least. Now, all Ryo sees of it is a peculiar splash of red on its side. It is interesting to see in the end a mark that he had not seen when he had walked across it to school every day.

The one who is not smiling runs towards him. The expression that he wears can only be described as dark, and the yelling has only just reached Ryo's ears. Too bad his hearing is just as bad as his eyesight.

The next time, a moment later, the current manipulates Ryo into a position that he can see in the bridge's direction, he notices the red splotch has fallen off the side of the bridge and has moved to just above the river. There is something attached to it, but he cannot…

His other's fist slams into his face, and the yelling has finally clarified.

You IDIOT! You could not wait, could you? Move out of my way before you get us both killed, you suicidal brat.

The ring burns, but the body that wears it is too far gone to feel its heat or the iciness of the river as it tumbles. It is too far gone to feel the pain in its left hand finally stop or to feel the slowing of its pulse or to feel the last attempt at an intake of air. It is too far gone to live.

MOVE IDIOT! This will not end like this.

Ryo's eyes finally close, but not before the red hits the water and the object that is attached to it becomes clear.

No…no…no…

Eyes as grey and as stormy as the night clouds above stare into the body's slack face. Strong hands grab onto the limp body and pull both of them to the surface.

Idiot.

The red-haired man says the same thing in his native tongue.

One, two, three compressions against the chest.

What the hell.

Pinch nose, breath out. Repeat compressions.

This was supposed to be an easy assignment. Watch some brat. Not too threatening.

The snarl appears on the man's face the third time he tries to get the kid's heart beating.

Sure, he has a Millennium Item. But his powers have been subdued. They won't return. At least, that's what the boss said.

He is tempted to slap the drowned idiot, but if he stays dead that would be just disrespectful. The Millennium Ring that is positioned a few inches away from the white-haired boy's head and a few inches from the man's left side seems to glint in agreement. After the glint, the water that clings to its surfaces begins to turn into steam. The man is too busy to notice.

No problem he says. A vacation compared to your usual job of soul hunting he says. You might even be able to recruit a new member to help us with our great mission he says.

The rain beating down on the red-haired man's head helps him understand that hell is not a place of fire and brimstone. It is a place of rocky gravel shores and sharp-as-nails rain and yet another kid dying on the ground besides him.

Not cut through with shrapnel and bullets like the others, but dying all the same.

The man stops trying when he realizes that he is in hell and that he has to explain this Bakura kid's death on his watch and… that the kid looks peaceful like this. Like, if he was sleeping, maybe those dark, dark circles around his eyes would finally be able to disappear. As the man studies the adolescent's face, one of the hands that he had removed from on top of the boy's still chest moves to rest on the ground besides him. Fingertips brush against the Ring.

The man screams as intense heat travels through his fingertips, up his arm, and into his head.

"Don't you dare give up, Worm."

There is a hissing voice in his head. His left hand will not let go of the infernal Ring, and his right hand is clutching his head and trying to crush the voice and intense heat out. The voice growls at his attempts to resist it.

"Move aside, Mortal."

And with that, the man's hand is no longer gripping the ring and the other hand is no longer clutching his head. They are now both being used to grab the drowned adolescent's collar and lift him up off the ground. The man's hands start shaking the boy; meanwhile, the man watches in horror from a small box in the back of his mind.

"Wake up! Wake up, you pathetic excuse for a host!"

The man can feel the tightness of his hands and can feel the way his teeth are clenched together hard enough that his gums bleed. He can see the way the boy's head lolls to the side as his body tries to shake him awake. He can feel and see, but he cannot control his own body.

"A few memories is all it took to kill you. Really, you beat me in a shadow game, brat. Those memories are nothing compared to that."

As the shock disappears, the man starts to fight back.

The Pharaoh destroyed any spirit or demons in the Ring said the boss. No chance of possession said-

"Shut it, Mortal."

At those words, the man is shoved deeper into the box. The boy's body is allowed to drop, and the man's body begins to do a crude imitation of the CPR from earlier.

"You're pushing too hard. Even if he could be brought back, that could damage-"

The body beneath the man comes sputtering to life. Ryo is breathing and coughing and breathing and coughing up water all over the man. It is just the man, now. The box is gone. The spirit has left him to deal with the pounding rain, the gravel digging into his knees, and the boy who is shaking and coughing violently beneath him. The man opens his mouth to speak, but then the boy stops shaking. The white-haired boy slowly pushes himself up using unsteady arms and looks straight into the man's eyes. Yellow irises and slitted pupils meet the storm grey of the man's eyes. The Millennium Ring glows eerily in the moonlight. Wait, it is still raining. There is no moonlight or that many streetlights.

Oh sh-

"You have been of enough service." Says the grating voice of the spirit.

"Therefore, I will permit you to take the credit for this, Mortal." As the Ring brightens, the spirit gives a humorless smile.

Run. Run. Run. Get up and Run!

The light hits the man before he can even react.

Ryo is… He does not know where he is, frankly, because he was at home running to the door to meet his sister and Mother after a long, tiring day at school and now he is under a bridge and soaked to the bone. It is night, too. When he had been running to meet his sister, it was not night and it was not raining and it was not so cold. Ryo blinks once, then twice, in an attempt to wake himself up from this odd dream. It is still raining. Okay, not a dream then. Ryo will just try to push himself up and-

The boy feels a burning in his throat before he vomits up water. He leans forward. The palms of his hands are burning from the gravel that is being dug into them, and a wound on his left hand is bleeding profusely. As he finishes expelling the last of the river water, white, limp hair falls and clings to the sides of his face.

Why am I here? Where is Amane?

She is gone. That image of home had not been from today. That was from six or seven years ago. Today, he was…

Leaning forward on the bridge's ledge. Gravity eventually took over, and he…

Ryo was just…The boy looks up at the bridge above him. As he squints because of the rain falling onto his face, he remembers that he just jumped off a fifteen foot high bridge, and someone might have jumped after him.

Someone who-

The boy jerks at that thought. His eyes widening at the realization that someone else might have gotten killed because of him.

"And that's why one should always commit suicide at home. Less good Samaritans get killed by stupidity that way."

If the boy was not already deathly pale, the color would have drained from his face. His panic at the possibility of someone else dying is temporarily forgotten,

"Sp…Spirit."

The Voice does not respond at first; but, then, a weakened near whisper responds.

"Br…brat. Id…idiot."

Ryo flinches again,

You're mocking me. I deserve that, don't I?"

It takes longer for the Voice to respond.

"You…don't…say."

It is a whisper now, not just a near one. Ryo is trembling and maybe crying a bit; however, he cannot tell if these reactions are from the cold and rain, which has begun to lessen, or from the feelings within him.

"You saved me, didn't you?"

The answer is obvious, but Ryo is too cold and too tired to think of anything else to say. It is also odd to be speaking calmly to someone who had just tried to stuff his friends' souls into dolls for some RPG.

"Look to your right." Says the near inaudible Voice.

If Ryo had listened close enough to that last sentence, he would have heard the amusement in the Voice. As it was, the sight that he saw as he whips his head to the right distracts him from his current train of thought. There is another person only a foot from his left. That person is pale and drenched and still. Ryo just killed somebody.

"Oh god, no." Ryo shoots forward. His hand wraps around the other person's wrist to check for a pulse, and his eyes travel to the other's face. The moment his grip tightens, though, is the moment that the other man's eyes shoot open.

Grey eyes are only unfocused for a moment before they are trained on Ryo. Ryo freezes. The stranger does not. He rips his hand from Ryo's grasp and pushes himself quickly away from the boy. There is almost fear in the man's eyes but only for a moment before confusion takes its place. It is almost like the stranger does not know why he was afraid of Ryo for that second before his conscious thought took over.

From their positions a few feet away from each other, both the boy and the man stare at each other. Ryo is the first to blink. His expression is owlish and any words that he could or should say cannot make it past his lips. The stranger is the first to move and to speak. The stranger's eyes dart to look at the bridge above and then shift back to Ryo.

"So, I got to you in time, then." Ryo just blinks in response and trembles a bit from the cold. The stranger narrows his eyes and leans forward.

"Hey, kid, are you alright?"

"I am not a kid." Ryo blurts out to his and the stranger's surprise.

"I am Ryo Bakura." He finishes. The boy's voice goes quiet at the end of his statement. The stranger stares at him in mild disbelief.

"Okay. Ryo, are you alright.' The stranger seems to try to give a comforting smile but it turns more into a grimace, really. Ryo goes back to his owlish blinking and trembling. The stranger narrows his eyes again in obvious annoyance.

"Kid-uh-Ryo, I asked if-"

"What is your name?" asks Ryo.

"Wha…"

"It is rude to not tell someone your name once he has told you his own." It is the stranger's turn to stare owlishly.

"It's just Alister." He said quietly. In Alister's opinion, the boy seems to be a bit out of it. Maybe it was from the fall or from the lack of oxygen, but the boy's behavior does not match with Alister's view of someone who would jump off of a bridge in the first place.

"As to your previous question, no, I am not okay. My chest feels like it is on fire still. My fingers and toes don't feel like anything, really. Oh, and sister is dead and mother..." The boy starts giggling. Alister scoots a little more away. He is not afraid per se, but the sight of the white-haired boy's wide green eyes and the sound of his odd laugh make Alister cautious. The giggles suddenly stop, and the boy just stares at Alister with too wide eyes.

"I am not okay. I want to go home. It was sunny back there, and, although I know my friends wouldn't like that, I just want to go home. Why did you stop me from going home? Mom and Amane are w…waiting for me to come home and…" The adolescent's eyes are no longer wide. They are downcast and dull. The crying starts slowly and falteringly. First one tear and then another trail down Ryo's face until the boy is sobbing.

"I just want Amane…please" Alister starts to really feel the cold then. The cold that being drenched and knowing what it feels like to be dead inside one can feel. Alister moves forward until he is only a foot away from the violently trembling boy. Alister starts to reach forward, stops, and then reaches forward again. His hands grasp the trembling boy's shoulders. The boy's shoulders are as cold as ice. Hypothermia is a real possibility in these conditions, so both he and Ryo really should not be sitting in the rain like this.

"Hey, Ryo, listen. I know that- Kid, we really need to get someplace war-Oomph." Ryo has closed the distance between them and has latched onto Alister like he is some kind of lifeline. He sobs into Alister's shirt.

Kid, I am not the person to turn to right now.

Alister does not speak aloud this thought. Instead, he tentatively pats the shoulder of the boy. Ryo tightens his grip. From this response, more of the cold of the adolescent seeps into Alister. Alister knows that, if the trembling is anything to go by, he will most likely end up carrying Ryo to his apartment several blocks away. The boy will most likely be sick for hours, if not days, too. Alister sighs. The mist from his breath matches the white hair near it.

This is going to be a long night and an even longer assignment.