Hey everyone! This is my first attempt at a Yu-Gi-Oh! fanfiction. I wanted to write this story because there was a severe lack of non slash stories focused around Ryou Bakura. I just felt like there deserves to be more of it.

A few notes before I begin:

I refer to Ryou Bakura through the story as both Ryou AND Bakura. The Spirit in the Ring will NOT be identified with that name. I will simply refer to him as the "Spirit," this will be explained later in the series. So please, don't be confused when you see ' ...Bakura said...' It's not referring to the Yami, as most people write it. Thanks.

This is a story about Teenagers. Therefore, they will act stupid and do and say stupid things and like things I may not enjoy myself but will write for the sake of the characters. Everyone went through "phases." Please don't scoff off the story because it has a "goth." If you came this far, you obviously haven't, so I'm happy. : ) But do keep in mind that they ARE still a thing, and NO they are NOT emo. Please learn the difference. Its insulting to the culture.

and finally: A disclaimer that I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! There, I said it. If I did own it, Ryou Bakura would be the main character of the show and it would primarily be labeled as a Horror genre similar to Silent Hill. Hm. Maybe it is for the better I don't own it after all...


Black Dragonfly

Chapter 1

"Another country, another new start."

Domino City, Japan; just the latest city in the long stream of places she had moved in her life. She couldn't even remember how many different places she had been. This was her first ever time in Japan however, and hopefully her father's business would last longer than their previous. That had been a disaster.

The seventeen year old huffed as she threw herself onto her bare mattress, the thick layers of black lace wrinkling under her weight. She closed her eyes and scrunched her nose. The room smelled like it was doused with Clorox. Her room was smaller than her previous one in London. She had only one window that was directly opposite where she had flopped her mattress down in her haste to organize her room. All around her were boxes, some opened and the neatness in which they were so carefully packed was disturbed in order to find some trinket or other buried inside. Some clothes were strewn about, different skirts of varying sizes and dresses, a few stockings, all in different shades of black, a lamp shaped like a spider, sat on the carpet and plugged half-hazardly into the wall. A stereo system was across from it, sharing the outlet. A dark mahogany dresser was sitting in the middle of the room, taking up most of the walking space. She was too exhausted to unpack or organize. That could wait until tomorrow. She sighed heavily and rolled over on her side, uncaring that her makeup smeared across her bare bed. She couldn't find her sheets at all. Grumbling, she grabbed her pillow and snuggled into it, closing her eyes and drifting to sleep.

"Fucking sun…"

She hadn't put too much thought into the placement of her bed the night before. The movers had finally come with their stuff and they could "officially" move into to their new house instead of staying at the hotel. She had carelessly thrown it into the corner of the room. Now, with the morning light streaming through the window opposite her bed, it glared right into her eyes. She realized right away that she would have to move her bed to a better location.

"Lyds, get up, you've got school this morning."

The voice was her dad's as he knocked on the door, but like any teenager, she rolled over, grumbled miserably, and tried to go back to sleep. Twenty minutes later, her father came by her door again, this time opening the door and nudging the girl.

"Come on, I told you to get up. You're going to be late."

He was a middle aged man, pressing forty-five with a pronounced belly and a balding head. He wore a thick pair of glasses and was already dressed in a business suit, fine black leather shoes and a nice splash of expensive cologne.

"I don't care…" she grumbled miserably, trying and failing to shrink into her pillow.

Her father sighed.

"Lydia. There's no time. I have a meeting. I promised I'd drive you to your new school so you know where it is, but it is in walking distance so I want to be familiar with the directions." There was grumbling as a reply. Her father kicked her mattress. "I said wake up!"

"I'm up! I'm up!" Lydia whined. "I've been up," she grumbled as her father walked out of the room. "I could smell you coming into the room. Your cologne is strong enough to wake the dead…"

"I heard that!" her father called.

Grumbling again, Lydia sat up and blinked blearily at the offending light. She hissed at it like it burned her and stood up, stretching. She walked over to her closet and pulled out the only thing hanging inside, the uniform she was given to her new school. Lydia frowned at it as she walked to the bathroom, unzippering her boots and throwing them carelessly onto the floor as she walked. She hated the uniform on sight. She would look like a freaking sailor moon character in this thing. Lydia was used to different dress codes and uniforms in school, having spent the majority of her life travelling because of her dad's business, but never had the uniform consisted of something so god awful and pink.

The girl frowned. She hated pink. Why couldn't they have something darker? Staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, Lydia blinked at the familiar sight of her streaked, slept in makeup. Sleeping in her clothes was somewhat of a bad habit. Dark eyeshadow and eyeliner bled down her face like raccoon eyes and her lipstick smudged. Shrugging, she washed her face and pulled off her clothes. It was hard for her to trade her black hose and long heavy laced skirts with some blue mini pleated thing and a pink monstrosity of an over jacket, but she pulled it on without question.

Fuck, did she have to wear this ridiculous bow?

Her father had tried unsuccessfully to hold back his amusement when the school had given her the uniform. Lydia would never be caught dead in this thing if she had her way, but rules were rules. Speaking of which…

Grumbling some more, the teenager went about removing her several rings and bracelets and chokers, knowing such things weren't allowed. She then removed her lip and nose ring as well as the three piercings in her ears. This school was very strict on what their student body was allowed to wear. Hell, she wasn't even allowed to wear the makeup she wished for, only allowing herself subtle eyeliner. Taking off her nail polish was another matter. Because she couldn't find her black nail polish during the move, she had resorted to using a sharpie marker out of boredom one night and now couldn't find any form of remover in the drawers. It was still packed away. Cursing loudly, she began rigorously washing and rubbing her fingernails until the tips of her fingers were red and sore. Most of the color came off, but what was left on her nails was a discolored fade. Oh well, it would have to do. She quickly brushed her hair and went out the door. There was no time for a shower.

Her father was waiting for her when she came down stairs, and again failed miserably at the sight of her to hold back his laughter.

"I know. I look ridiculous," her voice was flat. "Can we just pretend like this is just another average day and that I am not dressed up like an anime character?"

"Well, at least its… different to see you in another color other then black," her father snorted. "Anyway, you ready?"

Lydia grabbed an orange from the fridge and her school bag. Luckily she had enough sense the night before to pack it with everything she needed.

"Yeah," she unenthusiastically spoke. "Off on another adventure. Maybe I'll catch a Pikachu on my way."

Her father chuckled at his daughter's humor and out the door they went.


"Class settle down and let me introduce our new student: Lydia Guttman!"

The teacher, a graying conservative dressed woman, smiled at the class as Lydia stood there, blinking at them. When she was introduced, she gave a half hearted smile and shrug.

"She comes here all the way from London, so let's try and make her feel welcome."

The students just sort of stared at her in bewilderment, as all students did. It was nothing new or different. All schools had the same introductions, more or less, all the same stupid faces staring at her expectantly, and Lydia had grown tired of it. After the first three times, she had gotten over the jitters of being in a new school, now it all just felt tedious. Some teachers asked her to introduce herself, to which she would give the same bland, generic response of "I am (add number here) years old, I like roller coasters, B movies and am allergic to ham." Thankfully, the teacher did not deem it necessary to have her "tell the class something about yourself." It was good too, Lydia already had a hard enough time as it was learning Japanese in such a short time. She wasn't even very good at it and still fumbled horribly with the Kanji.

When dismissed, Lydia took an empty seat she found near the back of the class. People stared at her with curiosity, but she paid them no attention. She could easily ignore them and that's exactly what she chose to do. Once the introduction was over, class resumed as normal.

Bakura hadn't paid too much attention to the new student until they mentioned she was a foreigner. He noticed her big eyes and fair complexion and her oddly colored hair. It was blue, very…blue. It obviously came out of a bottle. She stared disinterested at the class, and when indicated, waved slightly and gave a half hearted smile. She then took her seat and class went on as normal. He caught himself looking at her from time to time, somewhat struck by her odd appearance, not really used to meeting a foreigner and seeing them in the school's uniform. She was wearing it as were all the girls, but she kept fidgeting in it, always sitting up slightly to pull down the skirt or shrug her shoulders and pull at the blue bow of her jacket, a look of irritation on her face. She kept looking over the school work and frowning, but eventually her eyes drifted away from the work, clearly lost and had given up, and instead wandered around the classroom. Eventually, her hazel eyes landed on him and he started. He hadn't meant to stare at her. His chest clenched at being caught, he smiled mutely at her and looked away quickly, embarrassed. Ryou Bakura wasn't used to staring at people for so long. Not many people really caught his attention outside Yugi and his gang, and that was purely do to… outside circumstances. The weight around his neck seemed to twinge.

Class ended and Ryou Bakura made sure not to look back at the new student… what did the teacher say her name was? Guttman…? He hastily got up from his seat and left for the next class. Part of him felt obligated to say something to the girl after their pathetic little interaction, welcome her or introduce himself or something. It was utterly idiotic of him to assume that such a reaction was warranted because he locked eyes with her, but Bakura suppressed it and kept walking. He wasn't a social person by nature. Bakura preferred to spend time alone, for many reasons.

It wasn't like Bakura disliked people or had an aversion to them, but he was always somewhat shy and awkward when it involved talking with people. He was socially awkward and submissive to the point of bullying most of the time. He had an awful time understanding how to talk with people and gain their trust, and a larger part of him didn't very much fancy trusting people. Bakura had been hurt enough to know that it was far better to avoid getting close to people. The Spirit of the Ring, no matter how docile he was now, still heavily impacted his early life. Because of this, Bakura grew wary of people and expected pain and sorrow to follow. It was simply safer to play the part of a polite, friendly schoolboy and stay at an arm's length from everyone.

So instead of trying to make new friends, Ryou Bakura liked to fade into the background. He walked past the new girl and went on to his next class.

Bakura didn't see the foreign student again until his third period Math class. There, she was introduced yet again to him. He took this time to study her, as it was acceptable considering everyone was looking at her and it wouldn't be weird if anyone noticed. She was of average height and her blue hair was unnaturally poofy and put up in two high pigtails. The only piece of jewelry she had was a black choker with what looked like a skull on it. One of her socks were sagging down, and she kept fidgeting her leg to keep it in place. Allergic to ham? That was interesting, he guessed. She again quietly found her seat and once again tried, and failed miserably to stay focused on the studies. Her eyes once again roved around the room, and a strange wave of déjà vu hit him as her eyes fell on his once more. This time, Bakura didn't turn away in such a rush. His chest clenched as their eyes met and he stared somewhat like an idiot at her. Recognition clicked in her brain at him and she raised an eyebrow, as if to say "yes?"

The eye contact wasn't maintained, as Bakura shook his head apologetically and smiled once more. The girl gave him a weird look before shrugging and looking away. The minute their gaze broke, Bakura let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. She was pretty. His face flushed.

When class had finished, Bakura made his way to lunch, uncomfortable with the notion that the new girl probably thought he was some weirdo. He didn't know why that bothered him so much to know.

On his way to lunch, he couldn't help but overhear some of the students talking rather unabashedly about the new student. This wasn't surprising. She came in half way through the year and was clearly foreign. Everyone was curious.

"I hear she's a vampire." One girl said. "Yuki-san asked her about her hair and she hissed at her—hissed!"

"I asked her if she was and she snapped her teeth at me!"

"What? No way!"

"Yeah!"

"Don't be stupid, vampires don't exist. She's just an American."

"How is that any different?"

They all shared in the laugh, completely oblivious to the fact that the subject of their amusement brushed passed them. Bakura watched her go in amazement. She barely seemed phased by the comments. He was sure she couldn't have missed them, they were being so loud. Still the girl acted as if she didn't hear them and continued on her way to the lunch hall. She sat at a nearly empty table. It was his favored table for that exact same reason. Still unwilling to make conversation, he kept to himself and silently looked on. He couldn't help but pry, since there were so few people at their table and Ryou rarely spoke with anyone during lunch.

People approached her, chatted a bit, but they didn't seem to stay. There was something about Lydia's mannerisms that seemed very unwelcoming, and anyone that tried to talk to her wound up leaving, looking downright offended or disgusted. She seemed either downright confrontational to people, or acted as if they bored her. Her behavior was only somewhat understandable given how most of the students approached her. They didn't introduce themselves or act overly friendly, they just seemed to want to know things about her. Skipping introductions to questions like where she was from, was she a vampire, did she have tattoos, was she into occult. They were downright offensive, to be honest. Her responses were usually very calm if not highly sarcastic. She acted as if she didn't care, answered most of them somewhat seriously (he says somewhat because he seriously doubted that her entire back was covered in a tattoo of Satan, or so he hoped). Other people who were somewhat friendly still seemed more interested in her in a morbidly curious way, and to these people she simply was standoffish, as if she had no interest in being their friends.

The whole experience was rather fascinating. He continued to watch, under the guise of eating his lunch.

That's when the trouble had started. Apparently one of the older students didn't like foreigners, or something of the kind. Bakura was embarrassed to admit he didn't know the names of most of his peers. Half the time, he struggled with his own grade, let alone the older ones. The girl, who was rather skinny and no real threat, walked up to Guttman as if she had some sort of righteous duty. She slammed her hands on the table in front of Lydia, who had ignored her entire march towards her, picking at her food. When she slammed his hands down, the girl slowly raised her head, offering a bored raise of an eyebrow.

"You have a problem with my brother?"

Lydia blinked at the new commner a few times, eyes shifting slightly in thought.

"Erm, no?" she offered in a defensive sneer.

The girl curled her lip.

"Don't give me that. He already told me how much of a bitch you are."

Lydia gave her a stare, as if she was a child throwing a tantrum.

"Are you for real?"

"Yes, I'm for real," she growled. "Apologize to him!"

Lydia stared at her for a second, her mouth then huffed a laugh.

"Uh, no."

"Bitch!"

Then there was a clatter of what could only be the cafeteria food tray. Bakura whipped his head up just in time to see the girl's food tray clanking and spilling next to her feet. The room had fallen into a silence as Lydia stood there, glaring at the girl, who she had grabbed by the collar of her uniform. She then leaned in and whispered something into the girl's ear, something he couldn't hear. The girl's eyes went wide and she scrambled away, leaving her food tray behind. Lydia stood there glaring at the ground as everyone watched on in shock. Then, as quick as it happened, everyone went about their lunch, pretending they didn't see a thing.

Bakura was left sitting there with his mouth hung open. Never had he expected violence or anything similar to come from this. It was rather shocking to him. He turned to look at Lydia, who had sat back down and continued to eat her food, or play with it more so. She pushed around the rice on her plate, seemingly losing her appetite. Bakura mulled over what would happen next. No one even approached her after that fiasco, and the white haired boy wondered if that was part of her plan to begin with. Even still, Bakura's heart was racing. Whenever there was the slightest bit of confrontation or conflict, Bakura became nervous, frightened and fidgety. He had started to sweat slightly and cursed himself for always reacting to things like this even when he wasn't even involved. He felt the Ring around his neck pulse, and the familiar laugh of the Spirit inside mocking him once again for it.

He had wanted to ask if she was alright, but he was too taken aback by the situation, he merely sat there like an idiot and kept eating. After a few more minutes, a teacher walked in and asked Lydia to come with her. The minute she was out the door, a few people snickered.

Lydia Guttman shared no more classes with him that day. He didn't see her until after classes, where everyone was rushing to their lockers to clear them for the day. People seemed to stay clear from her after the incident at lunch. He could tell simply by how everyone got quiet when they walked by her, or kept giving her wary stares, as if she would jump at them and choke them. Lydia herself simply ignored it, almost as if she was used to such a thing.

Part of him wondered why he was focusing so much on the new girl. There was just something different about her that made him curious. Now she was somewhat of a misfit and he knew it wasn't something that would go away with time. She had forever just branded herself as the "foreign dark girl" who could beat you up. A part of him pitied that. He knew what it was like to be the outcast and being alone. The fear having left him at lunch, Bakura bravely approached her, feeling his body tense.

She didn't notice his presence at first as she dumped her books rather unceremoniously into her schoolbag, loose papers flying about. She simply crumpled them in her effort to smash them inside.

"Excuse me," he coughed pathetically. His voice trembled as it normally did, and his nerves began to act up again.

At the sound of the soft voice, Lydia looked up. She looked him up and down with a raised brow before turning to her locker and continued to fill her bag.

"Yes?" she asked in a dry voice.

Bakura had no idea why he was so nervous.

"Well, erm, I've seen you a couple times in my classes and I saw what happened to you at lunch and… erm..." he didn't know what he was babbling and he probably looked like an idiot. Why did he always fumble when talking to pretty girls? This is precisely why he didn't!

"I'm not going to snap your neck in half, if that's what you're worried about," she gave an amused smile. "I didn't even do anything to the chick."

"No, I… a-ha!" he laughed stupidly at the joke and tried to collect himself. "I simply wanted to know if you were alright? Some people can be awfully mean to new students…" He would know.

She slammed her locker harshly, loud enough that it made Bakura jump and cringe, the sound ringing in his ears.

"That's nice of you," she sounded anything but grateful. "But I'm fine, really."

She then threw her bag over her shoulder and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Bakura didn't know what he was even doing. The girl stopped and turned to him, somewhat curiously. "I'm Bakura, I'm pleased to meet you and welcome you to Domino City High school," he introduced rather lamely.

She stared at him for a short time, an amused smile on her face.

"Well, thanks for looking out for me then, Bakura," she tried his name, it made him feel kind of funny. "But I don't need pity from anyone." Here she gave him a wide smile. "I like the way I am." She then turned, continuing to leave.

Bakura stood there, feeling like an idiot. What had just happened, and why did he feel like he couldn't formulate words properly? He frowned when he reviewed her words. Pity? Bakura didn't talk to her out of pity. Did he? He didn't even know why he spoke to her. Maybe out of some weird sort of camaraderie. New student outcast; he knew all too well. I like the way I am. It was an odd statement. She liked being so different then. Hm. Maybe he didn't need to make her fit in, maybe she was trying to stay away from people.


When Lydia got home, the first thing she did was throw her bag onto the floor, uncaring if she did a piss poor job zipping it and all its contents poured onto the floor, and changed out of her uniform. Pulling on a loose black skirt and top, she collapsed onto the couch. She had gotten lost on her first walk home. She had tried to pay attention when her father had driven her to school, but it was hard to remember it in reverse and she was still half asleep when she arrived at school. Now she was too lazy to unpack or do homework. She groaned, turned around and switched on the TV. Everything was in Japanese and she was still unfamiliar with any of the programs or channels. Instead she settled on a stupid looking game show.

Hours later her father came home. Like clockwork, he loosened his tie, threw his briefcase on the table as he argued with whoever he was on the phone with. Lydia ignored him as she continued to watch the program, eating a bowl of popcorn she had made for dinner.

After about twenty minutes, her father emerged and stood next to her. Lydia didn't look to acknowledge him as she watched the TV and munched away.

"Yo pops," she greeted finally, eyes still glued to the program.

He gave a loud sigh.

"Do you know who called me earlier today?"

Lydia looked up from her TV and stared at her father, giving a simple shrug.

"Your school," Mr. Guttman frowned. "You got into a fight already? It's only the first day."

Lydia groaned and turned off the TV, flipping onto her stomach to bury her face into the couch.

"It wasn't a fight," she mumbled into the pillows. "I just, look, the kid was being a real ass."

"Lydia, we talked about this."

Sighing, the dark girl pulled herself from the couch and met his eyes, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Yeah pops, I know. I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have done it, I know," she looked down at her feet, the black sharpie colored toenails stared back.

Mr. Guttman sighed and sat heavily in his seat next to his daughter. He dwarfed her in every possible way. The seat sank several inches. Throwing his arm over his daughter, he rubbed her arm.

"I know you try to avoid people, but why don't you at least try and make an effort to make friends at this school, eh? This deal may be our break and may remain permanent. So will you try this, for me?"

The girl tried her hardest not to smile as her father gently shook her and rubbed her shoulder. But with his constant pleas, a smile broke across her face and she nodded her head. "Okay, okay pops I promise. I'll try to make friends. There, happy?"

Standing up, Mr. Guttman grinned at his daughter. "Ecstatic. Now, about this hair business. Your teacher also told me…"

Lydia rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I already know. I'm going to go to the pharmacy after school tomorrow and see if I can change the color. It's too much of a break of standardized dress code. Heaven forbid any of their students show any kind of individuality!"

"I like your natural hair color," her father frowned. Lydia laughed.

"Okay pops. Now, how about dinner?"


Will Try to update frequently. Depends on how motivated I become and how much people are interested in it.