Memories have been bubbling up again. Not memories of life here, but in my source. Really, years before my introduction, so it’s not canon but still hard to thing about.
I remembered being a very young child, watching mum, few months pregnant with you, go off to run errands. I thought she’d come back, so I really didn’t think much. I thought mum would come home, but you could probably guess she didn’t.
I remember my dad crying on the phone getting the news. I don’t remember understanding much of what they were saying, but knowing it must have been bad. He kneeled down to me and told me “Mum and Amane aren’t coming home Ryou.” I didn’t know why. I asked when but he told me they were never coking back.
I remember a year or two later, my father was drunk. He would come into my room, alcohol lingering on his breath.
Too much at once. Sorry. (Plus, it’s not real so I don’t want to trigger anyone for just an internal memory)
But that went on for years until my father was off in Egypt for work. The last I heard of him was when I got the ring. He told me to keep it hidden. That it had something he wanted. Something he needed. I kept it since then.
As time passed, I had lapses in memory. Minor at first, but getting worse and worse.
All my friends would go missing. I would move from school to school constantly. I became a loner, afraid to make friends that would go missing again. I would try to tell myself it wasn’t my fault, but those couldn’t be just coincidental.
Everything from there can be explained through the Millennium Enemy series in the Yu-gi-oh Manga (not the anime, Miho was never my friend). I became aware of the Ring, he took over, dueled Yuugi in Monster World TTRPG, lost, and all that (the only difference is that I did have an alter that looked and acted like Yami, but was slowly replaced by the spirit of the ring. I believe the original alter went dormant, but Yami still stays.)
I guess that’s my internal story. I can see why I was made to have that sort of more tragic past than my canon counterpart. Host was a victim of CSA, so I guess I was made to be the same. DID with CSA. We’re the same, him and I.
Thank you for listening, Leo