They should have known that something so soft would be so fragile. They should have known that once it broke, it couldn't be mended. Those soft brown eyes were the windows into his soul…
Bakura had always been a quiet boy. He was the one in a group who would speak seldom, and gladly sink into the background while others had their share of the spotlight. Few took the time to get to know who he truly was, few took the time to look past the white bangs that hung into his face and into his soft brown eyes to see his spirit. But he possessed such a remarkable spirit; it was full of only truth and goodness and light, despite the dark mystery that surrounded him. He was one of the few that could be considered truly innocent, much like Yugi, and that spark of his soul could be seen in his eyes. However, as has been said, few looked to see that spark in his eyes, and so through ignorance and a lack of care, his spark of spirit was muffled.
They should have known that something so soft would be so fragile.
For you see, there was much darkness surrounding Bakura that his spirit should be muffled by. He held in his possession the Millennium Ring, which in turn possessed the spirit of an evil soul. He was called by many Yami no Bakura, or Yami Bakura, and he had in his control the power to possess Bakura's body and mind, and to use the boy to his own plots and schemes. But perhaps the power that Yami Bakura held of the most danger was his residence in Bakura's mind. There he stayed with Bakura day and night, always a part of him, and no matter how hard Ryou struggled against it, he remained as a dark shadow to the boy.
One would wonder at why this was such a great danger, greater than the possession of the boy's own body. It was here in Bakura's mind that Yami Bakura could spread his dark influences. Bakura's mind became filled with the darkness of shadows, and surrounded by evil his soul was susceptible to becoming lost, though Bakura had been successful to maintain his light so far.
Bakura's friends, Yugi and the rest of the gang, were all quite aware of the evil spirit's existence. On several occasions they had tried, unsuccessfully, to rid their friend of the parasitic phantom. However, no matter what their method, Yami Bakura came creeping back as silently and unnoticeably as the shadows themselves. After a while, although still aware of their friend's predicament, they began to quiet down about the spirit's existence; it was an uneasy subject. At length they began to become uncomfortable around Bakura himself, for it was an eerie thing to know not whether the person you were talking to was your friend or the other in disguise. They all, including Bakura, knew that they still considered the white-haired boy their friend, but their silence towards him was strengthened by Bakura's own quietness.
None of them could guess at what it was like for Bakura; only Yugi could come close. He had had occasions where he and his counterpart were at similar disagreements, but unlike Bakura, he and his Yami could always work it out in the end, and shared a sense of unity between themselves. It was because Yugi and the others felt that they didn't have to worry about Bakura that led to their ignorance.
And so it was on an average weekday that a change began to become noticeable. Bakura awoke in the sunlit morning from dark and pressing dreams, fueled by stress and worries. As he rose, twisted bed covers slipping off of him, his tired and groggy eyes scanned around the room, as he did each morning. However, this morning, something was different.
In a corner of his room, his heavy school bag lay against the wall, looking lonely and desolate. Bakura hadn't touched it since he had dropped it there yesterday immediately after coming home from school. He hadn't completed, or even started, a single one of his assignments given to him the previous day.
Bakura was for the most a smart boy, and often paid more attention to his studies than his classmates bothered with. Often, the reminder of him not completing an assignment on time made him wince. School was important for a good future, and, more important for the present, doing his homework kept him out of trouble, something he didn't often feel he could afford to be in. But this morning as he stared at his backpack, aware of the significance it represented, no emotion crossed his face. He simply stood at fetched him comb, beginning to attempt to tackle the snarls in his difficult hair.
The shadow of the ancient Egyptian thief, the boy's alter ego, formed across the room, visible only to Bakura himself. He stood with his arms crossed, a smirk worn upon his face, although he was puzzled at his hikari's behavior. Bakura was the type who worried unnecessarily about everything- it a part of his traits that made him so… innocent. It was also one of the many reasons why Yami Bakura despised his lesser half. Everything about the boy was incredibly weak. The thief's spirit could not understand just how it had come to be that Bakura was the destined owner of the Millennium Ring, and that the weakling was Yami Bakura's own reincarnation.
"What's the matter, baka?" Yami Bakura taunted from across the room, grinning. In the King of Theives's mind, he was above the mortal and everything that the boy owned. Anything that was Bakura's was instantly Yami Bakura's, too, including Bakura's own freedom and rights. "You're not doing what you were told to do."
Bakura paused in his brushing, back turned to his Yami, but continued after only a moment's hesitation. Through the reflection in the mirror Bakura looked into, Yami Bakura could see that his expression had not changed again. Between everyday stresses on Bakura, the expectations of school, and having to deal with his Yami, Bakura had just decided push schoolwork out of his mind last night. This usually came with more worry and regret, but today no effect could be seen.
Yami Bakura frowned crossly when no reply came, but he didn't let it stop him for long. He smiled cruelly and pressed at Bakura's mind through their mind link, reaching into Bakura's soul to read what emotions he might be keeping inside. Bakura's privacy was no concern to him.
The mind link was an odd thing. Through the power of whatever Millennium Item was possessed, yami and hikari communicated with each other by sending emotions, which were quickly and subconsciously translated by the brain into words. Such a way of communicating was powerful, because the receiver felt the full impact of the sender's words, and it was difficult to keep anything from the other.
A frown crossed Yami Bakura's face again. When he peered into the boy's heart, he was met by a wall of indifference, cold and numb. It felt strange, and not at all like his hikari, who always felt emotions strongly and cared for practically everything. He pushed at the wall but could get no further; however, at the edges of each corner, the essence of blocked pain seeped through, like a dark mist stopped in its tracks.
By now Bakura had slipped into his school clothes. His Yami stomped across the room and grabbed the boy by the collar, pressing his face close to Bakura's. "Tell me, boy, where did you find the courage and foolishness to try to hide things from me?" He asked angrily. A wall was a sign of resistance towards Yami Bakura, which the spirit would not tolerate.
But Bakura only looked back with blank eyes. Yami Bakura could detect nothing in them; no fear, no anger, no sadness, no worry. This angered Yami Bakura further, but he did see one thing in his hikari's brown eyes. Suddenly he smirked, and released Bakura from his grip.
"Ha! So you've finally given up, is that it?" He asked, in his own sardonic amusement. "You think you can just stop caring, and then all of your problems will go away? Let's see how long your frail little wall will last."
He walked out of the room, still chuckling to himself. At first he had thought that his hikari's new attitude would pose as a threat that he would have to beat down, but now Bakura's "charades" only presented itself as a means of amusement for the thief, a way to laugh at the boy's weakness once again. He would watch as Bakura's little wall broke, and all of his problems would come rushing back for him to worry about.
After all, the boy was weak, and couldn't survive in the way he was attempting.
Or could he?
This fanfic seems to be starting a little slow. For Bakura to change in the way he will in this story would bring tears to my eyes, but I had to write about what it is to lose something so precious. Thanks for reading, and please R&R. This is the first fic I've done in a long while and I'd like some feedback.