A/N: And this one was written for my wonderful friend Aki, based on this other picture I drew, which can be found here. ameko-shadowsong(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/Capture-the-Memory-98328976

Bakura Ryou is (C) Kazuki Takahashi

-o-

It would have been quite accurate to say that he was lost.

He had never been a particularly driven boy, with no goals beyond do well in school and keep my friends alive. But now he was even worse, wandering through life without any direction whatsoever. His grades never wavered, nor did his mask; the only lie was the smile, and no one was ever sure there was something wrong.

But he came home with so many new bruises from not watching where he walked that He started taking over on the road to the apartment so they didn't both wind up dead.

Of course, He thought it was ridiculous, this pining for her. But Ryou didn't care what He thought, as long as He stayed quiet and didn't hurt anyone. Ryou just wanted to see her again. To touch her. To see her smile.

He thought it was probably the snapping and cracking of several limbs losing their status as 'hale and hearty' that alerted her to his presence. Her face appeared briefly at her bedroom window; a minute later, she opened the front door, stepping outside in her pajamas to see him sprawled in the poor bushes. Blushing, he scrambled to his feet, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

"Ryou? What are you doing here?"

"Eheh… Crushing your bushes," he said brightly, smiling cheerily and not even knowing he was melting her heart again as he did.

She giggled, face flushing happily. "Um, is that why you came, or was there another reason?"

The blush darkened to scarlet across his pale skin, complementing the crimson autumn leaves that stuck haphazardly in his snowy hair. "You've missed school for a few days, and I was beginning to grow anxious. Are you alright?"

"It was just a fever, that's all." She looked absurdly pleased to have been so sick, and he wondered if it was just because she didn't want to be at school.

"I'm better now, and not contagious. And I'll be back tomorrow."

"How lovely," he said sincerely.

There was always so much he told her without ever saying it. I miss you, I love you. He never even consciously thought those words—he just always knew them to be true. But he never really said them—andnowhenevercouldnevercouldnevercould.

"Would you tell me something that you think you'll never do?

"Die," she responded promptly, then ducked behind him as if she expected to be attack, giggling and refusing to unlace her fingers from his. Puzzled, he stopped walking.

"No, no, keep going," she urged brightly, peering over his shoulder. "You're doing a good job protecting me from the snipers."

"Oh, alright," he agreed cheerfully, though he couldn't be sure what she meant.

They walked in contented silence for a little while, fingers entwined, until she remembered the question. "Wait, what about you?"

"What? Oh. Well, I don't know." He smiled. "Perhaps I'll never learn to walk without trip—" Oh, irony of ironies: As he spoke, she tripped, falling forward. "And perhaps we can lean on each other the whole way back," he offered warmly, doing his best to catch her. Flushing, she turned back to see what she'd caught her foot on, and laughed to see a single pink shoe.

"Good," she said happily. "For a moment, I thought it was a steak."

Ryou could never be sure, but he thought maybe she really did need him to lean on. Not physically, but—sometimes, she just seemed sad. Sometimes, he had to hold her up.

He didn't mind.

"It's alright, don't worry, please calm down." Anxiety flared across his face, his eyes wide and worried. Her knuckles were already bleeding from one unfortunate incident with a tree—and he had already seen too much blood, too much of it on his own hands because of Him. Gently, he reached out and snagged a flailing fist. She fought for a minute, until she saw him; she slowed, but her breathing didn't.

"Please don't," he said, with as much warmth in his voice as he could muster—and that was a lot, because it was so easy with her, even easier than with anyone else. "It's going to be alright. Please calm down."

She looked at him with such shame, tears gathering at the corner of her pretty eyes as her breaths grew calmer. Hesitantly, he reached out with his other hand and touched her cheek, then held her close.

"I promise, it's alright."

If only he could have protected her. Oh, if only he could always have protected her—but sometimes, she protected him, too. He felt safer with her than anyone else—even when she said those strange, strange things that seemed to contradict her intentions.

"Hey, leave him alone!" echoed from across the room, turning heads—especially, thankfully, those of the girls surrounding him, the fan club he couldn't work up the courage to earn a reprieve from. Sheepishly, he looked up to see her walking over, a touch of irritation drawing her brows together. Tittering and casting glances over their shoulders, most of the girls scattered, though one quiet one lingered for a moment.

Ryou smiled when she reached him, pouring his gratitude into the expression. She couldn't help but smile back—though she looked a little sad. "Annoying girls," she pronounced, then glanced back. "Oh, but she's really nice."

"I'm sure she is," Ryou agreed amiably.

She seemed to hesitate, then added, "She really does like you, more than these other girls. Maybe you should talk to her."

He flushed slightly, looking apprehensive. "Oh, I'm sure she doesn't. That's alright."

It was always the time he spent with her that was the best, that wasn't wasted. If he'd had his way, she'd be with him forever. She would make all his days wonderful.

She was the only future he ever really looked forward to.

And no… Now he never saw her. Her face was missing from his life, fading away like the sunset at light's end. The night was coming on fast.

Maybe it was pure exasperation that made Him do it. Maybe He was simply tired of the bruises that made them look abused, or weary of the fear and despair roiling beneath the surface.

But when Ryou woke up, there was a photograph he couldn't remember finding taped to the refrigerator. The same one he had been intending to seek out the next day.

"It's so pretty here!" she cried happily, flopping down onto a bench and grinning up at him. Smiling, he sat down beside her.

"It's going to be lovelier shortly," Ryou promised, smiling his heartwarming smile.

"Pulchritudinous," she said, and giggled. He laughed along with her.

"Look, the water's all sparkly—the sun's already going down."

There were a thousand compliments in reply to that, but he didn't even think them. They were all true, so there was no need to speak them aloud. He simply smiled brighter and watched the colors flare across the watery horizon like a blazing wedding train. Mostly, though, he watched her, out of the corner of his warm, gentle eyes. Tranquility spread across her face with the smile; he relaxed, and so did she. Her hands were in her lap, but he reached out anyway, and then he rested his arm gently around her shoulders.

Startled, she stiffened, then grinned widely, looking like she was having trouble breathing, and loosened up again.

Behind them, a camera flashed.