There was a very quiet inhale upon feeling his arm, eyes slightly widening in an almost childlike way as he gently squeezed the limb as if needing just that little bit more confirmation. For all intents and purposes he should’ve been scared. He should’ve turned in the opposite direction the moment he laid eyes on him but he couldn’t ignore that pull which brought him there to begin with. 

There was no arguing that Bakura had caused him pain, he still had the scars to prove it, but the time they shared hadn’t all been bad, or at least he thought so. Perhaps the cons of their past relationship did outweigh the pros but there were pros all the same, something which Ryo would forever be thankful for. If it hadn’t been for the spirit he would never of met the friends he held so dear, and he would never of created memories that would comfort him when times were tough. He never did get to thank him for that.

As Bakura withdraw and turned away, Ryo let his own hand fall to his side but kept his eyes firmly locked on the other. 

❝ You’re not the same. ❞ It was a bold statement, one he couldn’t be completely sure of, but there was something in his heart that told him the man stood before him was no longer consumed by such poisonous and malicious hate. He didn’t have the Ring for a start.

There was a slight tilt of his head at the frown, unaware that his suggestion of getting food had been taken offensively, that was the last thing from his mind. Whenever he offered something to someone it was never done in hopes of getting something in return, or to pull in a favour a little way down the line should he ever need one, it was done simply out of wanting to be kind and helpful. 

He silently fell in step with the other, hand tightening around the strap of his satchel and gaze lowered. There were so many questions bouncing around his head that he had to bite the inside of his lip to stop himself from asking them, hopeful that there would be time in their futures to get around to it. 

As silence reigned brown eyes stole an occasional look, each time getting a new perspective of the body he now had, from the piercings in his ear to the rings that adorned his fingers. Was jewelry something he also used to wear in Egypt? What a sight he would’ve been back in that time, and how he would’ve stood out of the crowd so easily. No wonder he was given the name Thief King. A man skilled at staying in the shadows yet looking so striking. 

❝ What should I call you? ❞ Came an eventual question, the diner just a little way ahead of them now.