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It shouldn’t be this hard to reach out his hand and grab Yuma’s; it shouldn’t be hard because it’s like four inches away from him but every time he talks himself into it just grab it you idiot and reaches for it, Yuma pulls his hand away and scratches his nose or covers a yawn and the moment is lost, the opportunity gone once more.
It happens more and more frequently. Walking to school, after dueling, even a couple of times at Yuma’s dinner table with his grandmother and sister right there and he can’t help but try to reach for Yuma’s hand under the table despite the fact that oh god, his family is going to see but he didn’t really care because he just…
…he just wants to hold Yuma’s hand.
When he gets his memories back, his feelings intensify; he needs to let Yuma know – Yuma needs to know – what he feels because time is running out and he feels his memories jumbling together; memories of flying with Durbe, memories of eating lunch on rooftops, of writing mundane reports, of soft smiles and rainbows and tight, embarrassing hugs, of listening to his sister telling him to get his thoughts in order and just do something about it and sometimes he doesn’t know which memories belong to Nasch and which memories belong to Ryoga Kamishiro – maybe they belong to both – but he needs to tell Yuma before he can’t remember which is which anymore.
And he’s starting to wonder if Yuma notices and doesn’t want him to hold his hand, and that’s why Yuma keeps pulling away at the last second.
It’s nighttime, and he goes to Yuma’s house and the whole way there he mutters the entire conversation to himself, the one they’re going to be having, and he is going to be pissed if Yuma changed anything because it’s perfectly rehearsed in his head and he’s lousy at improvising. The door opens, and it’s Akari, and she raises an eyebrow at him like it’s ten o’clock at night what are you doing here, and he asks casually if Yuma’s around I need to talk to him about something and she’s probably thinking duh where else would he be if he’s not with you and lets him in. She heads upstairs, calling for him, and Yuma’s grandmother comes out of the kitchen and gives him an appraising look. He’s got his hands shoved in his pockets, one hand fiddling with something inside, and he’s unconsciously scuffing his foot on the carpet.
“What’s bothering you, dear?” she asks, and she has a somewhat concerned look on her face, as though she knows something’s eating him up inside. He shrugs noncommittally and gives a mumbled not much and he’s lying because it’s definitely something and she knows he’s lying because she pats him on the shoulder and tells him, “If you’re worried that Yuma won’t understand whatever it is, he will. You hold a very important piece of his heart, you know.”
And his hands convulse in his pockets as she walks away and he has to bite his lip to fight the grimace of pain as these words shot through his chest like lightning, and suddenly there he is at the bottom of the stairs, still in his day clothes, and he smiles when he sees his friend.
“Hey Shark! What’s up? Why are you here so late?” and he looks a bit confused, and now worried, as he gazes at Shark’s solemn expression.
Ryoga glances at Akari and their grandmother, who understand immediately that he needs to be alone with Yuma, and they know that what Ryoga has to say to Yuma is a heavy subject.
“Why don’t you go outside?” their grandmother suggests. “The stars are awfully bright tonight.”
Yuma readily agrees, and Ryoga nods, and they go out to the backyard where there’s a porch swing and Yuma plops on it and-
-and grabs Ryoga’s hand and pulls him down next to him.
And Ryoga’s entire rehearsed scenario goes flying away as he sits there, rocking gently on the porch swing with Yuma holding his hand because the part where he had finally managed to grab it had been worked into his script and now it’s out of order and he can’t figure out how to work it back in.
Yuma turns to look at him and tilts his head in that curious and innocent way and grabs Ryoga’s hand with his other one, and Ryoga breathes sharply and can’t look into Yuma’s bright eyes that reflect the stars-
that reflect his star
-and his hand is shaking and Yuma tightens his grip and his brows furrow in bewilderment. “Shark, what’s wrong?”
I’m a Barian he tries to say but he can’t, he can’t do it, he can’t say it and he needs to. Yuma has the right to know. Yuma needs to know that he won’t be there during their last battle.
No, that’s a lie; he will be.
But not the way he had dreamed he would, standing by Yuma’s side, and Kaito’s, and embracing Yuma after it was all over and smiling and laughing and once it was over maybe they could go back to being normal teenagers and Ryoga would be able to do normal things with Yuma like go to baseball games and duel for fun after school and maybe if Yuma was willing, they could sometimes hold hands and gaze at the stars and they could rest their heads on each other’s shoulders and have sleepovers where they do nothing but stupid teenage stuff like drink hot cocoa and watch racing movies and exchange shy kisses in pillow forts.
I’m a Barian, the voice says, stronger in his head now.
But he had been too afraid to make the first move because he valued their friendship too much, and he regrets more than anything that it never would happen, never could and he wishes he could have at least had some of those memories of feeling human to take with him when he left this world.
I’m a Barian! he practically screams to himself, I’m not your friend in all this; I’m Nasch, I’m the leader of the Barians and-
The painful reality of his situation hits him at that very moment; that he was Nasch. That he was the leader of the Barians. That he had been a king in a long-gone kingdom centuries ago, that he had been killed, that he had been reincarnated and killed again, that he had lived for a few short years as Ryoga Kamishiro and-
-and he had died again.
Yuma should never have known Ryoga Kamishiro, because Ryoga Kamishiro should have been dead before they met.
“Shark?” and Yuma leans closer and touches Ryoga’s face, other hand still gripping his, tighter than before. “Shark, please tell me what’s wrong.”
Ryoga opens his mouth just say it you idiot, just tell him, he deserves to know, he has the right to know why you won’t be there to hold him up in the end, why you won’t be there to celebrate, why he won’t be able to smile and celebrate when this is all over and he sees that star in Yuma’s eyes and his hand clenches and he tries-
“Yuma, I’m… I’m…”
A Barian, a Barian, a Barian-
Yuma watches him closely, thumb travelling along Ryoga’s knuckles, and Ryoga shakes his head because I can’t say it because saying those words I’m a Barian, I’m your enemy would make them too final.
“I have something for you,” he says instead, and he pulls out two rings from his pocket. They match the rings that are his bond with Rio, the way he remembered her when it felt like his entire world was caving in on him, his one spark of hope when his world was hell.
He shifts his hand in Yuma’s so Yuma’s palm is facing down, and hesitates before sliding one of the rings onto Yuma’s ring finger. He slips the other ring onto his pinky, for so long occupied by Rio’s. Yuma gazes at it for a moment and his eyes fill with tears and Ryoga hopes he doesn’t cry because he will too, damn it, and Yuma looks at him again with the question unspoken but clear-
Why?
“Because… I might not… always be with you.” These words are the hardest to say, and Yuma kind of laughs a little, Shark, you’re always going to be with me; we’re friends, right?
It sounds a little desperate and Ryoga can see Yuma try to process why his best friend would ever abandon him-
“If I don’t survive this fight,” he begins, and his voice shakes, but Yuma cuts him off with a violent lurch of the swing as he wraps his arms around Ryoga’s body and leans his head on his shoulder and Ryoga feels the tightening in his chest again and he wants to push Yuma off and disappear, to keep from feeling the warm tears on his shirt as Yuma starts piecing together what he’s trying to say but can’t figure out how.
“I just want to have a bond with you, Yuma.”
“We do!” Yuma insists, and his chin quivers as he looks up into Ryoga’s eyes, and he looks about eight years old with a runny nose and a pouty face and the trademark stubbornness that Ryoga had fallen so hard for. “Why are you acting like you’re gonna leave, Shark? Why are you talking like you’re gonna... gonna die or something?”
Because that’s my fate.
Ryoga pulls him close and places a gentle kiss on his forehead, and he feels like he’s comforting a small child and Yuma lets him, lets him pull his face into his chest and pull his legs up on the swing and rock back and forth gently.
“I’m not,” he lies soothingly. “I just wanted to give you something to remind me of my bond with you, when things get tough in the weeks ahead, and maybe knowing that I'm always with you in spirit even if I'm... fighting somewhere else will help you get through it too.”
Yuma buys it and Ryoga feels the guilt of lying and he knows it’s going to gnaw at him for eternity but it’s too late to take it back now and it’s too late to tell Yuma so now Yuma’s going to just have to find out the hard way-
I’m a Barian
-and they sit there on the porch swing, back and forth, back and forth, gazing at the constellations together but Ryoga has eyes for only one star and he lets the tears trickle onto Yuma's head.
He had been there to say goodbye but had ended up falling in love with him all over again instead.