The room took exactly seven steps to cross, width-wise. Ten length-wise. Eight and a half diagonally. He had memorized every crack in the floor, every nail and splinter.

"LET ME OUT! I SAID LET ME OUT!"

There was a crack in the ceiling shaped like a rabbit. In the dim light, it almost seemed to move. His imagination pushed it farther, at first content just to watch it hop around. Later it grew as large as an elephant, big enough to carry him out of this hellhole.

"THIS ISN'T FAIR AND YOU KNOW IT! YOU PROMISED THIS WOULD END! YOU PROMISED!"

His thoughts had started out hopeful. It'll be okay, he told himself over and over again, hands buried in his hair. He just wants to say goodbye to Marik, that has to be it, it'll just be for the night.

That night turned to day. Turned back to night. Back to day. His watch ticked at his wrist, marking the passing hours, passing days.

"LET ME OUT, GODDAMN IT! LET ME OUT!"

The watch broke, stopping suddenly one night. He panicked as the familiar ticking disappeared, unable to breathe. The silence overtook him, the walls closing in. He screamed until his voice was gone, and received no answer.

"PLEASE! JUST FOR A MINUTE OR TWO, I SWEAR! I'LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT! JUST LET ME OUT!"

He paced. His footsteps covered every inch of the room, not much bigger than the average closet. Sometimes he slept, other times slumber was impossible to find.

"I'M BEGGING YOU, PLEASE…SPIRIT, PLEASE! I'LL DO ANYTHING!"

Pace. Sleep. Scream. Pace. Scream. Pace. Sleep. Stare at the walls, not seeing them. Not seeing anything.

"I'LL DO ANYTHING!"

He rammed the door with all the force he could manage from seven steps away. His nails tore as he scrabbled at the wood, as if he could dig his way out.

"FOR GOD'S SAKE, LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!"

He forgot what the sun felt like on his face. Forgot the wind through his hair, the clear, free air of the outdoors, the feeling of sleeping in his own bed. His friends faces had faded to hazy memories. Distantly, a part of him wondered what they were doing now….were they still in school? He would never catch up to him, if things stayed the way they were…

"Let me out…I'm begging you…"

"We missed you so much," Yugi beamed, throwing his arms around his friend's shoulders. "I missed you…Ryou…"

"Please…"

"We've missed you so much," his sister beamed, extending a hand and pulling him along. "Mama's waited so long to see you again…"

"…please…"

He was flying, high above a dimly lit town, gazing down at the tiny, ant-sized people dancing around a summer bonfire. Now over a mountain and towards a city, bustling with cars and lights and people. Now a forest, where tigers and tapirs lifted their heads as he passed, invisible to the rest of the world.

All places he would never be. All places that didn't exist. There was nothing but this in sight, for the rest of his life.

"I give up…let me go…"

The door to the soul room opened, the spirit gazing quizzically in at the boy curled up in the corner. "What do you mean," he demanded, leaning against the doorframe. "You give up?"

Ryou didn't move. "You can have my body," he said dully. "You can have it, if that means I can get out of here."

Bakura stared at him for a moment, then walked away. "Is that possible?" he asked Marik, back in the real world. "To sever a soul from a body without a millennium item?"

Marik shrugged. "I can check Ishizu's library. There might be something."

The spirit returned three days later, hoisting the half drowsing boy to his feet. "You'll need to be ready, when the time comes." he said. He studied him curiously. "You're sure you want to do this?"

Ryou glared up at him. "I don't know," he snapped wearily, pushing him away. "Is there any chance that you're going to go away and let me live out the rest of my life in peace?"

"Whenever the ring gives out," Bakura replied. "But that could be years…or days. What you're asking is irreversible, you do know that, right?"

Ryou nodded slowly. "You should be the last person complaining," he said."You're getting a body, shouldn't you just be happy with that?" Bakura turned away, shrugging.

"And just why do you care, anyways?" Ryou continued. "Why start caring about what I want now? You never did before…You promised this would all be over soon! How long has it been since you told me that?"

"A year." Bakura said shortly. "….I didn't really want it to be this way."

"Go to hell." Ryou retorted. "You had your chance for apologies, a long time ago. A fucking year ago." He turned away, staring into the darkness. "I wanted so much just to be like everyone else, just to put the shadow games and the millennium items behind me, and I thought I could….when I woke up I thought it was over! I thought I could get back to my schoolwork and my games….the kind that don't kill people! That I'd be able to go to college and grow up like a normal person….But you just couldn't let go, could you? You just had to stay and use me again…I should never have given Marik that ring! I shouldn't have tried to be nice, after all that!" He stormed away, his shoulders shaking. Bakura said nothing, merely watching his host.

"You two really do deserve each other," he hissed, fists clenched at his sides. "You'd use anyone just so you can get what you want, wouldn't you? Well I hope you two are fucking happy…" He bit back a sob, rubbing the angry tears from his eyes. "Let's get this over with," he said. "Tell me what I have to do."

Bakura pulled a knife out from his belt, handing it to the younger man. "Marik will start the ritual when I tell him to. It'll show you to the strings you need to cut."

"The strings?"

"That tie you to this body. Cut them and you'll be free."

Ryou clutched the knife tightly in his hands, gazing at his reflection in the blade. "Will it hurt?" he asked quietly.

Bakura shrugged again. "Probably. But it's this or back in there." He stood back, his face impassive. "Are you ready?"

Ryou closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded. Marik's voice began chanting in the distance, a strange, low murmur of words he couldn't understand. It did its job, however, as he looked down at his hand to see a thin, glowing strand looped around a finger. It led trailed through the darkness, taut as he pulled back.

"Follow it," Bakura ordered. Together they stepped out into the darkness. The shadows immediately swallowed the door to his prison, even as Ryou took one last glance back. He gulped and kept walking, in stride with Bakura. The spirits face was impassive as they walked together.

"Why are you here with me?" Ryou asked quietly, avoiding his doppelganger's eye.

Bakura did the same, staring straight ahead of him determinedly. "Someone needs to take your place," he said. Ryou looked over and for the first time noticed a polished bone needle clutched in his fist. If there was any fear in his heart, he had hidden it well.

I only wish I could do the same, Ryou thought with a wince, trying to calm his own shaking hands. Would it be that bad…Bakura could be gone in weeks…months….years…He tried to think of living in his soul room for years on end and nearly wretched from the sudden panic at his own imaginings. This has to end, he thought resolutely, clutching the knife tighter. He looked down to see that more glowing strands had joined the first, protruding from various parts of his body. One had looped around his ankle, another sticking out of his chest. As one appeared out of the corner of his eye, the strands went slack, and a large dark wall reared up into view.

"So this is it…?" he asked, gazing at the spot where the threads disappeared. "I cut them from here?"

"One at a time." Bakura said, testing the tip of the curved needle on a finger. "The one at your head last."

Ryou nodded. He took a deep breath, his heart racing . He tried to steady his hands on the knife. I'll be free, he thought firmly. Finally free. He looped the first cord around the knife, closing his eyes as he snapped it.

If felt as if someone had ripped a piece of himself away, a pain greater than any other he had felt before. More than being thrown again and again into a small closet of his own mind, more than the ring piercing his chest. More than crawling from the crumpled wreck of his family's two-door, screaming for his mother and sister who would never answer him again. A scream welled up in the back of his throat but he bit it back, letting out only a strangled whimper. The thread fell into Bakura's waiting hand, deftly threaded through the eye of the needle. Ryou turned away as the spirit grunted, the needle digging into the back of his wrist. He caught his breath, then gingerly moved on to the next strand at his shoulder. Another cry, louder this time as the pain shot down his shoulder. Another grunt of pain from Bakura. Each string sending another shot of pain through his body. He was breathless by the fourth, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

I'll see my mother again, he thought desperately, panting. Another string fell from his chest, then another still, tears spilling from his eyes. The pain was almost too much to take. His whole body felt like it was being torn apart, his mind reeling. He could barely see Bakura beside him through the tears, as he slammed his eyes shut. He grabbed the string attached to his ankles, shakily sawing at it. I'll see Amane…

He cut the string and felt his legs give out, a scream slipping out as he crumpled to the floor. He couldn't do this, he couldn't…this was death and he has been so stupid to wish for this over his prison…

"You can't stop now," Bakura nudged him hard with his toe before dropping to his knees beside him. "Keep going."

Ryou shuddered. "I—it hurts."

"What is there worth fighting for that doesn't?" Bakura replied. His own hands, Ryou realized dimly, were shaking against his host's. Not quite as much as his own, but the threads now sewn to his body quivered.

"I don't know," Ryou mumbled, tightening his grip. "I don't…." There were two more strands, one over his temple, the other at his heart. He flinched as Bakura's hand wrapped around his own, steadying it as Ryou brought it to his chest and slashed though the cord. There was a fog enveloping his brain, his own scream faint in his ears. The knife clattered to the floor, his hands clutching his chest.

There was a hand on his head, stroking his hair with a surprisingly gentle touch. "One more," Bakura said. Ryou pulled back to see that his eyes were bright with pain, and a strange glint of gratitude. "I'll never be able to repay you for this," he murmured, picking up the knife and putting it back into Ryou's hand.

"Are you ready?"

The boy nodded, steeling himself. He felt Bakura guiding his hand and the knife, and closed his eyes. A sob escaped his lips as the knife hit the last cord, and with a few short strokes fell away. Suddenly, everything disappeared. Bakura, the pain, the air….For a moment, there was nothing but calm and anticipation, as Ryou waited for something to happen. He opened his eyes but might as well not have—there was nothing to see in the darkness that surrounded him. It cushioned him as he floated through space, his mind slowing for the moment.

Where am I? he wondered, looking around. He stretched out a foot experimentally, but found no ground or walls. Nothing to orient him at all, actually, just darkness. His chest tightened, his heart leaping nervously. What is this? A trick of Bakura's? What if he had just stuck him in another soul room….but no, how could that be? There was only his, and Bakura's…and he had glimpsed Bakura's once before. It was full of shadows, but not like this…not this empty, nor this serene….

Am I dead? As soon as the question popped into his head, it clicked and he knew. I'm dead…he killed me. His fists clenched around the empty air. He killed me.

You knew this would happen, a small voice said in the back of his head. As soon as he took over, there wasn't really another outcome, was there?

I had hoped, Ryou thought. I wanted to get out of there….

Sure you did, the voice continued. Like you could ever handle living in the real world before. You spent your life lost in books and games and tv…what were you really going to do with your life?

I was going to live…Tears welled in his eyes as he curled in on himself. I was going to live like

a normal person, and now I can't…He looked around, raging at the darkness. Because I'm here….He gulped.

"What is this place anyways?" He croaked hoarsely, looking around. Was this the afterlife? Where were his mother and sister? Where was anyone?

"This can't be it," he cried, flailing. He kicked out at the darkness, swiping at it, but touched nothing. "There's more to it, there has to be! Please, someone, tell me there's more!"

He gazed upwards, or what seemed to be upwards…he couldn't tell. "God?" he asked, trembling. "Somebody? Answer me?"

No answer but the silence. "ANSWER ME!" Ryou screamed. "ANSWER ME! LET ME OUT! THIS CAN'T BE ALL THERE IS!"

The darkness was closing in, crushing him even as he continued screaming. "THIS CAN'T BE ALL THERE IS! THIS CAN'T BE—"

He couldn't breath, his eyes slammed shut as he writhed. "This can't be it," he repeated, whimpering. "This can't be it. This can't be it…"

The pressure was unbearable, folding him up, compressing, pushing. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe…

"This can't be…no…"

Suddenly he dropped, falling and landing roughly on a patch of ground. Dizzily, he opened his eyes and was met with swirling green…he was surrounded by a patch of grass that towered over his head. He rolled over, puzzled…there was a hazy blue-grey sky above him.

"Where am I…" he murmured, kneading his eyes with the heels of his hands. He lay there for a time, his eyes closed, just trying to steady himself. He took deep gulps of air, savoring the freshness as it washed through him, clearing away the stuffiness of his soul room. And with every breath he realized…this didn't feel like death…

He sat up, a breeze playing gently with his hair. "I'm alive…" he murmured. "I'm alive!" He stumbled to his feet, awed smile spreading across his face. "I'M ALIVE!" He spun in a circle through the waist high grass, face turned joyfully to the sky. "Thank you…thank…"

He stopped abruptly, looking around the field. The grass stretched for miles in all directions, a never-ending sea of green. If I'm not dead, he wondered, his heart leaping to his throat once more. "Then where am I?"

"Where am I?"