Author's Notes: Welcome to the land of crack!fic.
I really shouldn't pass myself off as a Batman fan, since it's only in the past week that I've discovered how much Gotham's Dark Knight – or rather, his delightful rogues' gallery – fascinates me. For a long, long time, the only Batman I was familiar with was the campy 1960s version (you know, the one with Adam West and the Penguin's crazy penguin-laugh and three different ladies playing Catwoman). But then Batman Begins came out (you know, the one with Christian Bale and Cillian Murphy's gorgeous Doctor Crane and Gary Oldman in possibly his most straitlaced role). And then I made the astonishing discovery that there is actually Batman fanfiction on this site. Which proves two things: 1) God exists and 2) I am crazy, because who else actually thinks while they're watching a movie, "Hey, I wonder if there's fanfiction for this"?
Anyway, this is the product of my demented brain. In terms of Yu-Gi-Oh canon, it takes place sometime between Duelist Kingdom and Battle City. In terms of Batman, it takes place during the events of Batman Begins. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I own almost nothing. I don't even own most of the plot, which is largely lifted from Batman Begins.
Chapter One: Defeatist Boy Strikes Again
"Go-ta-mu. Go-taa-m." Ryou squinted at the map in his hands and turned it sideways, as if that would help his pronunciation of the foreign "th" sound. Years of public-school English classes had brought him to near-fluency, but that one damn sound still threw him off, especially if it appeared in a word he wasn't familiar with.
"Gotham," his father corrected from the driver's seat, keeping his eyes fixed on the bumper of the car ahead of them. He wasn't entirely comfortable with driving on the right side of the road.
Ryou shook his head, folded the map, and gave up on English for the moment. Billboards and street signs were flashing by too quickly for him to read them.
"Why Japan?"
They came to a red light, and his father leaned back from the steering wheel, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Why Japan what?"
"Why do they want a partnership with a museum in Japan? Why not Chicago or Los Angeles or some other American city?"
His father finally spared him a sideways glance, eyebrows rising above his glasses. "I thought we talked about this at the airport."
Ryou fixed his gaze on a fly that had landed on the windshield, no doubt scattering more specks of Gotham's grime onto their rental car. He sat hunched slightly forward, pale hands sandwiched between his knees.
Bakura-san sighed. "The museum's almost bankrupt, and they're hoping a limited-time exhibit on Far East cultures will bring in the crowds. Most of our feudal artifacts were collecting dust in the storeroom anyway."
"There's more to Japan than samurai."
"But that's what everyone wants to see."
Flopping back against the headrest, Ryou allowed one hand to come up to his chest and trace the outline of the pendant beneath his shirt, fingers moving with great care over the sharp tines but pressing down harder on the raised eye, as if to imprint it into his skin. His thoughts smothered his senses like water enveloping his head; even if his eyes had been open, he probably wouldn't have caught the nervous motion of his father's gaze, darting back and forth between the boy and the highway.
"Before we left I… made you a doctor's appointment, Ryou."
Something in his father's tone made Ryou open his eyes and confirm, "For when we get back?"
"Actually, ah…" They were stopped at another red light, and Bakura-san bent forward like something on the road ahead had caught his attention. Suddenly, with the defeated expression of a man who has lost his nerve, he jerked on the turn signal and made a narrow right turn, pulling hastily into a parking lot just up the side street. He edged the car into a compact parking space and killed the engine.
"Actually, it's for… while we're here." His hands were clenching the steering wheel as if the wind would suck him through the window if he let go.
"But why?" It was Ryou's turn to lean forward, searching his father's face for any emotion but defeat. "Is that why you brought me here?"
Bakura-san wouldn't look at his son. He was still staring at something in front of the car, lips moving as if he were rolling the possible answers around in his mouth like a lottery machine.
Ryou grabbed the door handle and yanked it up, but he somehow didn't have the energy to get out of the car. If he didn't do anything rash now, he could at least spend the next few hours at the hotel pretending that everything was completely normal and he was merely a tourist, not a psychiatric patient that his father handled like broken glass.
He let his hand drop back to his lap and saw his father's shoulders visibly relax.
"Listen, Ryou. Gotham University has one of America's best psychology departments. A friend of mine recommended a therapist to me, and I thought maybe we'd give him a try. If you don't like it, we don't have to come back. Okay?"
"I thought we were only going to be here for a month."
"I can extend my leave from Domino Museum. Matsuda is perfectly capable of handling things in my absence."
Ryou sucked in his breath. There were so many retorts he could have made, but they both knew why his father spent so much time at work re-training his already well-trained staff, and Ryou didn't feel like going over it again.
His father twisted the keys in the ignition; the engine sputtered alarmingly for a minute before lapsing into its normal rumble. Instead of pulling back onto the road, Bakura-san rested his foot on the brake and examined a callus on the pad of his thumb.
"Ryou, I'm sorry. I should have been honest with you."
Ryou finally released the breath he had been holding. "It's okay, Dad." There was nothing in his voice or expression to suggest that he meant it.
After a few minutes' silence confirmed that his son had nothing further to say, Bakura-san cautiously backed the car out of the parking space. He waited until they had gone another half-mile up the road before chancing a glance back at Ryou. The teenager had shifted his body to place his back towards his father, head slumped forward until his forehead almost touched the window.
Bakura-san sighed again, deeper this time. Softly, almost mouthing the words, he muttered, "Though I suspect it's been many years since you've been honest with me."
Notes, Homages, and General Ramblings:
1) I have not abandoned Like Clockwork. This fic is merely a whim; that one is not. So never fear, there will be plenty of alchemist!Ryou goodness in the near future.
2) I honestly don't think Ryou is as innocent and trusting as many writers paint him. (Hence his, um, angstiness in this fic.) I find it a little hard to believe that someone who is so obsessed with the occult and has experienced so much tragedy in the past would be a sweet-eyed angel. Besides, he is a teenager. But I'm kind of walking a fine line with this interpretation of him, so I'd like feedback on his characterization. Can't have him getting out of character.
3) If anyone can tell me the Jump Comic I lifted the name "Matsuda" from, I'll send you a virtual hug.
4) Expect the next chapters to be longer. Possibly much, much longer.
5) Please, please, please, I need feedback! I'd especially like reviews from actual Batman fans, so they can tell me if I'm doing their fandom justice. Pretty please with Cillian Murphy on top?