Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me. It belongs to Kazuki Takahashi (who rocks) ... and 4Kids (who don't rock) as well I suppose.
Warnings: None, really. I've been told my Bakura is in character for the time when this is set. However, my Yami no Bakura is a little less in character because he's damn hard to get right.
Summary: Bakura talks to the spirit of the ring about getting hurt ...
Notes: Takes place sort of during the last bit of the 7th Manga that they didn't bother to tell us about.
A/N: Please don't flame me. Please don't tell me I spoiled the mangas for you. I warned you in the main summary that there is a very slight spoiler. It's very mild. Please review.
Sleep well
How is it?
"Don't talk to me."
How is your hand?
"Leave me alone!"
A pause, as if for breath. I only want to know if it still hurts.
Bakura didn't reply. He simply went on making the diorama he was working on. The voice in his head went silent. Bakura breathed a sigh of relief and closed his eyes. He was tired, but sleep didn't seem to help. And every morning, no matter where he fell asleep, he would wake up in front of the television. If he didn't know that the voice in his head could take control of his body, he would have accounted this to sleepwalking. He wanted to confront the Voice, but feared what it could do. He opened his eyes and glanced at his bandaged hand. He had almost lost the use of it thanks to the Voice.
It hurts you.
Bakura swallowed hard. "Yes. It will hurt for a while, yet. It takes time for a wound like that to heal."
No. It hurts you that you are bound to me.
Bakura didn't answer him. The Voice already knew the answer. Bakura stood and turned towards the kitchen, then stumbled back into his desk, yelping in surprise. A slightly translucent figure stood before him, arms folded across his chest. He looked like Bakura, and yet not like him. His hair was wilder, his expression sharper and harder to read. His eyes were fathomless.
Bakura whispered, "Who are you?"
"In life I was the Thief King. I robbed the tombs of the Pharaohs."
Bakura took a deep, steadying breath. "Why are you inside my head?"
"I am the Spirit of the Ring. My soul is sealed to it. Through you, I can live again – or at least have a half-life."
Bakura looked at the Thief-King steadily. "Do you hurt me because you enjoy it?"
He took a step closer and ran one finger down Bakura's cheek. He was as insubstantial as mist, yet Bakura felt his touch, warm and real against his skin. "No –"
Bakura's eyes became cold, and the spirit stopped speaking. He unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it apart to reveal pale, almost invisible scars where the Ring's spikes had pierced his skin on the Thief-King's apparent command. He held up his heavily bandaged left hand. "Then why do you do it? You've hurt me twice now Thief-King. If you don't do it for pleasure then why?"
He didn't answer. Bakura drew in a deep breath and pushed past the translucent figure before him; he felt strangely solid and warm to Bakura. He wondered vaguely if others could see or touch the spirit like he could. The Thief-King's arm whipped out and grabbed his arm. Bakura tried to pull away, but found he couldn't. "What?"
"Forgive me."
Bakura pulled away. "No."
He turned away and left the spirit alone in the room. The spirit sank to the floor and sat cross-legged until Bakura came back with a glass of water. The boy ignored him, going back to work on the diorama without a single word. The Thief-King watched him for a long while. Eventually, just as Bakura leant back and looked at the finished diorama, he whispered, "I only wanted to give you what you wanted. You said you wished you could play with your friends forever –"
"You tried to steal Yugi's pendant."
"You don't understand, the Spirit of the Puzzle, he is the one –"
"I understand enough. You used my body and my friendship with Yugi to your advantage. You'd do it again if you needed to. I don't want to talk to you any more. Go away, get out of my head and never take advantage of my body again!"
The Thief-King closed his eyes and vanished. Bakura stood and went to bed. As he cleaned his teeth, he though he saw his reflection flicker, almost as if he were looking at the Thief-King again, but when he blinked his own face reasserted itself and he blamed it on a trick of the light. He climbed into bed and cradled his injured hand to his chest, shivering slightly. The pain had returned again and now his whole hand was throbbing. He clenched his teeth and tried to ignore the pain. A few seconds later, he whimpered. Suddenly, cool fingers were at his forehead. He opened his eyes and in the darkness made out the Thief-King's face. He jerked backwards.
"What do you want?"
The Thief-King gestured at the Millennium Ring, which lay on Bakura's bedside table, light throbbing over its surface in time to the blood in his hand. "What is it doing?"
"Healing you. Think of it as … my apology. I must go, or I won't have enough energy to heal your hand completely. The pain will dissipate once the muscles are healed. Try to relax. Take some of your pills the healers gave you –"
"The doctors, you mean?"
"Doctors, you call them now? Very well. Take some of the pills they gave you at the hos-pi-tal. They will take the pain away a little. When you wake, your hand will be better," the Thief-King said. The word 'hospital' sounded strange and foreign when he said it, and it was one of the few words that he spoke with a slight accent. Bakura watched as he faded out of his vision, then got out of bed and padded across to get some of the painkillers the doctors had given him.
The throbbing ache had dissipated by the time he got back into bed, and he found he was almost able to ignore it. Five minutes later, he found that he could bear the pain. He was tempted to peel off the bandages to see if the Thief-King was actually healing him, but the doctors had told him firmly he wasn't to remove them in case the wound became infected. He closed his eyes and relaxed. Before he slept, he half-felt ghost fingers in his hair and phantom lips pressing against his cheek. Sleep well, my brave little host … sleep well.