Nina; Hi, I came up with this one though i should be studying for my AP Gov test... I know its not what you expected, mos were probably expecting an update of Damn Bakura but something just keeps stopping me from writing. I know what I want to say with it but every time I start it comes out sounding really retarded, especially if I try to make it funny. This piece is much darker and delves deeper into both Bakura and Ryou's minds.
Chapter 1: Reason to live?
Ever since he was brought back to the mortal realm, after Memory World, his life had fallen into a rather predictable pattern. Drink, drink, wake up naked in a motel with some hooker. Drink, drink, wake up at a bar with no recollection of what day it was or how he had gotten there. Drink, drink, pass out in the comfort of his own home only to wake up to one of Ryou's lectures. Yes, Bakura's new life was rather predicable. And pathetic.
Today, Bakura sat at the kitchen table, intently studying the wood. Mindlessly, he raised a bottle of strawberry vodka to his lips. His throat no longer recoiled from the harsh liquid, his tongue no longer demanded it to be washed down with water. No, Bakura had adjusted to the liquid long ago.
Movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. Ryou. He watched from bloodshot eyes as his light paced happily from the kitchen to the living room, talking to Malik on the phone.
"Of course." The albino light nodded, giggling. There was a pause before he began speaking again. "Well that only makes sense. He's-" Bakura purposely diverted his attention back to his drink. He couldn't concern himself with the happy ramblings of his light. All that mattered was the lightly tinted liquid in the clear bottle sitting before him. That light aroma of strawberries and the nearly overpowering stench of alcohol. The Ra-blessed numbness it left him. Funny, a year ago, he wouldn't have touched a drink. Now it was all he did. Then again, before he had to preserve the body. There was no way he could get his revenge if he wasn't clearheaded at all times. And alcohol had a lovely decaying effect on the body.
Decay… decaying meant death, right? That sounded nice about now, actually. If he hadn't thought of it as cowardly and disgraceful, he might have happily slit his own wrists by now. But drinking himself to death didn't sound much better. He couldn't quit drinking now though. He had come to not only desire, but desperately need the numbness the poisonous substance gave him.
"Bakura." The albino could hear the scowl in his light's voice. Sure enough, Ryou was giving Bakura that disapproving frown when Bakura begrudgingly lifted his eyes to his light.
"So when are you going to stop?" Ryou questioned. Bakura sighed in reply and kicked back another swallow of his drink.
"You need to stop this. You're killing youself." Ryou admonished. Bakura ignored him. Eventually Ryou would tire and give up on him, just like everyone else.
Bakura ignored him. It was always the same damned thing. Eventually, Ryou would tire and leave him.
"I'll make you stop, even if I have to kill you to do it."
Empty threat. They both knew knew it. Ryou could kill Bakura no more than Yugi could betray that damned Pharaoh, and considering that the Pharaoh was dead and gone, his spirit frolicking in the afterlife, it was quite impossible. Bakura heard Ryou sigh, a dead hopeless sound. Ryou was giving up. Perhaps he had finally learned that Bakura will never change and was finally giving up for good. The mere thought filled Bakura with both cynical glee and overwhelming depression.
"Atleast tell me this," Ryou demanded. "Why? Why are you throwing your new life away?"
To this, Bakura had a question of his own. "What do I have to live for?" He felt Ryou's stare as the light stood, obviously in shock. Bakura watched in slight amusement as Ryou groped for words.
"Bakura…" Ryou managed to utter. He attempted to say more, but he never got the chance. The doorbell chose then to ring. "Shit." Ryou cursed before blushing. Such foul language. He glanced at the door before turning back to Bakura. The bell sounded again. "Stay in here." Ryou frowned before heading to the door. Bakura smirked. He had won.
He listened as Ryou greeted his friends. Heard the light dance of metal as Ryou's keys jingled when he picked them up. Heard the distinctive patter of Ryou's shoes on the floor, and the final click of the door being shut and locked. Then silence. No one was left in the house except Bakura. The kitchen suddenly seemed too large, too lonesome now that he was completely alone, though that had been his wish. Standing, swaying slightly as he did so, he headed to his room.
Carrying the bottle with him, Bakura staggered down the hallway. The house as immaculate as usual. No it was more than that, it was completely sterile. Its perfect cleanliness made it seem unlived in. The décor itself was perfect and homely but it lacked warmth, lacked life with its purity.
He ambled drunkenly down the hall, tripping on a nonexistent imperfection on the rug. Even drunk his balance was too good to let him fall, but the rug did skid over a few feet, awkwardly and out of place. Somehow, such a small thing made the house more humane.
Bakura made it to his room and collapsed on his bed tiredly, not bothering to shut the door or turn on the lights. Sleep was good. The blessed darkness demanded nothing in return and while he wallowed in it, he didn't need to think. To wonder. A person can't live without a purpose. What was his? Revenge had failed so what was his reason to live?
Nina: Thats the end of the first chapter. I know I haven't been updating as regularly as most would like (including me) but I will be working on that and I'll get better. Please let me know what you think of the chapter and any criticing that you can think of, I want to improve my writing for both you guys and myself. Review!!! It makes me happy and more inclined to write!