---- 盗賊の光 ｡

• ˗ˏˋ 𝑺𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑠 ༊*·˚

• ˗ˏˋ 𝑺𝑜𝑙𝑜 𝐼 ┈ 𝑅𝑒𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝐼𝑛𝑘 ༊*·˚

Those who dwell on the past forsake their future. Time, a constant – an inevitable – one cannot withstand its flow, ever shifting. Like sand, it slips away to leave little more than grains to cling to. Mere wisps of what once was, phantoms which remain to haunt the souls that simply cannot let go. But when the future is yet uncertain, is it so wrong to covet the small comforts the past may retain?❝ I’m home ... ❞Utter silence, a rather newfound companion to Ryou within the apartment’s lonesome confines. It held a certain disquiet which left the new graduate unsettled. A sort of discordant note that rang sharp to the ear, body strung tight as a bow’s hair. One day, perhaps, he would adjust. Or so Ryou attempted to convince himself with every passing hour. Yet the shadows remained unusually silent, physically and those which lingered still within his soul.Foregoing the glare of phosphorescents, the young man weaved through the darkened interior with practiced ease. Slender digits cast a rolled up piece of parchment to the void where he knew a small couch resided, stiff from disuse.The diploma could be set aside some other time – likely in a box, to collect dust. Simply another trinket of the past, a reminder of what once was. Little more than a lingering grain of sand.Without a second glance, Ryou continued to meander to the solace of his room; a specter within the dark. Feet padded softly, journey complete with the gentle click of the door in their wake. Even when overcast in looming blackness, the familiar contours of the room slowly took form. Books ranging from ancient history to tabletop roleplay guides decorated towering shelves or haphazardly laid about the floor. A weathered desk bore half finished figures – ever so small in scale – beside pots of paint no doubt dry with age. A thin coating of dust blanketed the ghost of an old hobby.All which appeared to be disturbed were a tangle of bedsheets, still in disarray from the previous night’s terrors. Sleep evaded Ryou like a thief, snatching away what little peace rest may bring to leave merely demon’s conjured by his own mind. It was a vicious cycle, disrupted only by prescription intervention and masked behind a cheerful smile. A pathetic disguise, but the world remained ignorant as he intended. Pity only left a bitter taste nowadays.However, there endured one soul in which he sought to confide. Or perhaps he simply refused to let her go. A past so finite; still, Ryou foolishly sought to keep her near via paper and ink. Words a silent plea to breathe life into her memory that he may find a moment’s respite. Hands fumbled along a small desk lamp, providing enough luminance to read by with the flick of a switch.Settling upon the bedroom floor, he shifted aside rumpled bed sheets to rummage beneath the wooden frame. Fingers curled about a plastic handle, and with a graceless tug revealed a large bin. A cloud of dust kicked back at the pop of the lid, stinging tears into those honeyed brown hues. Clearing his vision, Ryou beheld an all too familiar sight: the very deepest confines of his heart. Letter upon letter piled up in a heap of sedimentary layers of time. Doubtless, the oldest pages buried beneath now bore their age, ink faded and sentences obscured of meaning. Still, he would never dare part with even a scrap of what that box contained.Dear Amane … Dear Amane … Dear Amane …Like a mantra, each page began with the same quiet prayer that his words might reach her. Tucked amongst the countless letters a battered notebook was nearly stripped bare of paper, a pen on its last dregs of ink tucked in the spine. Just how many books had he torn away and pens drained dry over the years? Hesitant, Ryou carefully plucked the dogeared pad from its paper tomb. It had been far too long since he had last written to his sister, so much he needed to catch up on. On what note did he last leave her? Did she worry for him?Or were such concerns trivial to the dead?Flipping back the time-worn cover, he nearly choked on the memory. A half-finished letter sat before him accusingly. Guilt weighed heavily against his heart. To have left Amane so abruptly … unforgivable.I'm really looking forward –The sentence met an unexpected end in an unsightly blot of ink, forgotten. Try though he may, he could not recall what his younger self had been so eager for. All his memory sought to dredge up was a vicious laugh and … darkness. Nothing more. Trembling fingers dug upon the page, crumpling the discarded words until they were roughly torn from the spiral binding. It was not until the paper ball was blindly discarded to a lone corner of his room that Ryou registered his own shallow breaths.Don’t think about it.Mouth dry, he gave a rough shake of his silvery mane, as if the mere motion could banish such recollections. An honorable attempt, feeble though it may be. Instead, Ryou directed his attention back to the old notebook, clean page – albeit somewhat wrinkled – now displayed. Well, no time like the present to reconnect. To give in to old habits, the wishful desires of a lonely child.Dear Amane,
It’s been so long since I’ve written to you. I am so sorry. He wouldn’t let Perhaps I am not the best big brother after all. Still, I graduated high school today. Are you proud of me? I wish you could have been there in person to see it. Really … so much has happened lately, it’s difficult to put it all into words. But I promise I will. I know it doesn’t make up for all this time I’ve been away, but I want to share it all with you. Just like when we were kids, no secrets.
I hope Mom is doing well. I love you both so very much.– RyouNeatly he tore along the perforation, lining up each clean edge to fold the letter in thirds. It was a motion so ingrained within, no amount of time could let his muscles forget. A tender kiss was placed upon the page before it was gently nestled amongst its brethren. With a weary sigh, a solemn sort of peace settled within Ryou. Not quite closure, not while he still desperately clung to her memory like a lifeline. But the sensation eased the ache that her loss continued to fester.Not quite closure, no, but a means to convey his thoughts – his heart – to those now beyond his reach.Beyond this life.Only Amane held this privilege, this glimpse into Ryou’s troubled thoughts and haunted mind behind that soft smile. Only his dear sister deserved it, being the small glimmer of light within his life that not even death could snuff out. This connection, these words he so longed to share were all for her.Only Amane …Dear Spirit –

• headcanons

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---- hi! you may call me v or void. while i have been involved in rp on and off for well over two decades, i still consider myself new to yu-gi-oh rp. i've been a fan of the series for several years and am familiar up through 5ds. currently i am rewatching the original series and reading the manga for the first time. there may be elements i've forgotten over the years or missed, so please feel free to kindly correct me. i want my portrayal of ryou to be as accurate as possible, spiced up with a few headcanons. ♡i tend to be quite shy and cautious to interact, at least for right now. but please do not hesitate to shoot me a message for plotting or just to say hi.thank you for visiting and i to write with you soon!
---- ᴠᴏɪᴅ 𖤐｡