Something Ryoga never told anyone: after he was disqualified during the Nationals, he got hate mail.

Not just a barrage of nasty emails and phone calls and people threatening to kill him on the internet. People sent him actual, physical letters filled with anatomically improbable suggestions about what he could do to himself, and packages filled with shit or glitter or on one occasion, baked goods with a broken box cutter buried in each one.

After a few months, the incident faded from public memory and the onslaught of hatred tapered off. Rio was in a coma, and Ryoga spent most of his either at the hospital or wandering the city, oblivious to anything that didn't distract him from the loneliness and the guilt. He stopped by once a week to clear out the mail and clean up the apartment, just in case Rio suddenly woke up and came home.

Most of it went into the trash, unopened. Sometimes he read ones that looked particularly interesting; sometimes he gingerly peeked inside the weirder-looking packages. Once it stopped coming, Ryoga had no reason to come home too often. Once a week became once a month, and even then he only stayed long enough to dust and to make sure everything in Rio's room was perfect.

Then he met Yuuma.

Yuuma seemed vaguely concerned whenever Ryoga mentioned anything about his life, and so Ryoga started going home and eating regularly and showing up in class, just to avoid that wide-eyed look. Time had passed; the photographs of Rio on the walls and the hair tie she'd left on the counter hurt a little less. Even during the World Duel Carnival, Ryoga kept coming home once he'd finished dueling for the day. He stared at the picture of Rio's 13th birthday, taken while she was distracted by a mouthful of her favorite mochi, and promised himself that he would avenge her no matter what.

One evening, he got a text message from the front desk in his building. He'd received a package too large for the mailbox; did he want them to hold it?

His reappearance on the dueling scene had caused a resurgence in hate mail. Mostly Ryoga had taken to transferring it directly from the mailbox to a trash bag and throwing it out on his way upstairs. But large packages were unusual.

Morbidly curious as to who could hate him so much, Ryoga went home. It was a long, heavy box, addressed to Shark, signed Your Number One Fan. He unwrapped it on the coffee table; as he peeled back the wrapping paper, a single folded sheet of white paper fell out.

Ryoga set the note aside and pried open the box. It was a guitar.

It was an ugly guitar. It was blue, with a crooked, oddly placed toothy mouth drawn on the body and an eye on one end. It looked like the artist had been trying to be edgy but had gotten his ideas from a confused child. Ryoga wouldn't have been caught dead with it. If Rio ever saw it, she would laugh —

If Rio ever saw it. Ryoga swallowed, let the guitar drop onto the table, and snatched up the note. He blinked back tears as he read the neat, slanted hand.

Dear Ryoga.

I saw this and had to have it. Doesn't it look just like you?

They say coma patients appreciate music.

Your Biggest Fan,

IV

For a moment, Ryoga saw red. If IV had been in front of him, forget dueling — he would have killed him outright — but as he wasn't, Ryoga settled for ripping up the note and hiding the guitar behind the sofa. He was tempted to trash it, or take it outside and burn it, but it felt like letting IV win.

(He had played for Rio at the hospital at first. But it was too depressing.)

"Oh, make sure you bring your guitar tomorrow. You're playing in the festival."

"Wait, what?" Ryoga turned around from where he'd been tying his uniform tie in the mirror. "I never agreed to that!"

"Which is why I didn't bother asking." Rio shrugged. "What's the point of playing the guitar if you only do it alone in your room while crying?"

"I'm not crying!"

"Okay. Whatever you say, Ryoga. Just remember to bring your guitar tomorrow, or I will tell everyone at school the story of how you started playing bass because Mom insisted you have music lessons and it was the only instrument that sounded like a fish."

"That never happened!"

It actually had happened, but they'd been six years old, and Ryoga still hoped that if he just kept denying it Rio could be tricked into thinking she'd made the whole thing up.

"No one will believe you," Rio said, smirking. She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Hurry up, we're going to be late for class."

Ryoga sulked about her blackmailing him into playing in public all day, or at least until he was distracted by a duel with Yuuma and the resulting insistence that the winner had to buy the loser ice cream. It was extremely suspicious that Yuuma only enforced this rule when he was hungry and also out of money, but Ryoga indulged him.

Rio reminded him again about the festival after dinner, and, resigned, Ryoga went into his bedroom and pulled his guitar out from the closet.

It had been a gift from Rio. It was purple and black and red, it was sleek and sounded amazing, and he had never played for anyone but her before. Until recently, gifts from Rio were the only gifts he had. It felt weirdly intimate to be using this one in public.

Ryoga paused as he recalled…the other guitar.

IV's guitar.

It was still in the living room, hidden behind the couch. He had never used it. It might sound terrible.

And if it did, no one would ever him to play in public again. Besides, even thought Ryoga had decided that IV being abused by his father and put into a coma was probably punishment enough that he didn't need to actively hunt him down, there was something satisfying about the idea of using IV's 'gift' to do Rio a favor. It was like spitting on IV's evil intentions.

Ryoga put the guitar in his guitar case, so Rio wouldn't see it until it was too late, and laid the instrument against the wall by the door so he wouldn't forget it in the morning. Then, smirking to himself, he picked up his actual guitar to practice.

"Hey, why is Shark so obsessed with sharks?" Tetsuo asked. The rest of the Numbers Club, Yuuma, and Rio all turned to look at him. "I mean, I get he uses a shark deck, but he also has the shark necklace, and a shark guitar…"

"And shark pajamas," Yuuma added.

Ryoga had been pretending not to hear the conversation, mostly to avoid Rio mocking him, but Tetsuo had crossed the line.

"It's not a shark guitar," he said. "Just because it has teeth doesn't mean it's a shark!"

Was Tetsuo blind? The guitar was an insult to sharks.

"Oh, god, don't even get me started on that hideous guitar. I don't know why he won't use the one I gave him." Rio shook her head. "Ryoga used to have acceptable taste, but now…" And she gestured vaguely at Ryoga.

"What are you talking about, Sharksis?" Yuuma asked. He blinked. "Shark is so cool."

Everyone stared at him. Kotori stifled a giggle. Rio looked like she wanted to roll her eyes, and was restraining herself with great difficulty. Ryoga was certain he was blushing, and hoped no one would look at him until he stopped having feelings.

"Yuuma, he wears clothes he bedazzled himself and he drives a motorcycle that looks like Shark Drake," Rio said. "He is…he is not cool. I'm embarrassed to be seen with him in public."

"His motorcycle does look like Shark Drake," Takashi mused. "As much as I disapprove of his continual defiance of the school's dress code, I do admire his commitment to his theme."

Kotori actually had to cover her mouth with both hands to hold in her laughter.

"But he wins all his duels!" Yuuma said. Ryoga took a moment to silently bless Yuuma for not mentioning all the duels Ryoga had lost to Yuuma. "And — and he has fans! He's obviously cool!"

At the mention of fans, Ryoga winced.

Rio glared at him. She was probably offended he wasn't using her gift. Ryoga couldn't even blame her; his plan to spite IV had not worked out the way he had planned. Multiple people had come up to him after the festival performance to tell him they had enjoyed it. The student council was now trying to get him to play again next.

He could just get rid of the stupid guitar — he had another one, Rio would stop being mad — but if he did, Ryoga couldn't shake the feeling that IV would win.

Besides, despite its appearance, it was actually a good quality guitar.

"I'm just saying, you put IV in a coma and defeated him in a duel, is it absolutely necessary for you to use the guitar he gave you just to spite him?"

"Yes," Ryoga said.

Now Tetsuo and Takashi also looked like they were going to laugh. Tokunosuke looked vaguely admiring, which was even worse.

Yuuma shook his head disapprovingly. He patted Ryoga on the arm. "Revenge is bad," he said.

"Tch."

Yuuma squeezed his forearm reassuringly. "I think the guitar looks cool," he added.

"Whatever."

Ryoga glared off into space, and made himself tune out the others as soon as it was clear they'd stopped discussing him. He bit into his bread.

…he was not obsessed with sharks.