This is a Yaoi.
Romance. Love. Or…well, is it? This is a Yaoi. It's not. Could it? It wouldn't. Ryou. Bakura. A secret control room. Amazing things almost happen.
Disclaimers: Here we go…I don't own DragonBall or any related characters (i.e. Goku), those are property of a mister Akira Toriyama. What a neat guy. I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or any related characters, namely Ryou and Bakura. Gee, that would be fun…*ahem,* but they are the creations of Kazuki Takahashi. I don't own my readers. I coined the phrase Separate Entities. Really. I think I have obsessive compulsive disorder, but I do not know who called it that. I don't own any companies that manufacture rulers. I did not coin the phrase half-ass. I haven't been in the health office in my school, but according to many disgruntled students, all they do is put a thermometer in your mouth, even if you just scraped your knee. I don't own the Japanese language. I don't reserve the right to have the characters swear in Japanese (that just wouldn't be right). I don't own anything called a "Ryou Screen," or the Ryou Memory Folder. They're Ryou's. I do own Fact Three. I do not possess prehensile eyes. I really do own The Void of Existence. It's where I hang with people like Bakura, of course. I own a CONTROL CENTER at The Void of Existence. I do not own a monstrous SUV, but my dad used to own a Mazda. I don't own any major rap artists; I don't even like rap. I don't own any high schoolers, generic, mild-mannered, or otherwise. I do not own To Kill a Mockingbird or the characters belonging to this marvelous story, namely Atticus Finch (he's my hero). Finally, I do not own the state of California. Go figure.
The word "romance," like the word "gay," has long since lost its earlier and more generic connotation. Back in the day (of who, precisely?), a romance was just what they called an adventure story. Usually the kind with a strong-willed young hero on a journey of good and courage, often involving good deeds on the long path to a final goal, perhaps rescuing a princess, but rarely does such a tale involve the modern ideal of romantic love. This definition inevitably brings to my mind the series DragonBall. Goku is the perfect hero-type: courageous, good-natured, a little naïve…Before I go off on a tangent, I would like to say that I have nothing against yaoi. Just like straight anime relationships, gay anime relationships can be adorable, disturbing, or taken OUT OF CONTEXT. When relationships are taken OUT OF CONTEXT, I find myself reviewing the Facts. Example: Ryou and Bakura. 1. OUT OF CONTEXT. 2. First (I guess second), let us pretend Ryou and Bakura are Separate Entities. It's so sad to see our little boy try to kiss a mirror. 3. Separate Entities. Little difference here. Could you imagine having romantic relations with someone with your face? 4. Already getting tired of the Facts. Stumped at Separate Entities. Cannot reason beyond said point. Ryou and Bakura are left staring at each other. 5. Cursing context and all its endless evils.
Why is it, may you ask, that I can somehow jump between topics as seemingly distantly related as sewer rats and carpet cleaner. Well, good reader, I never pull things from thin air (except sewer rats and carpet cleaner. What?). I build to an eventual and mind-bendingly clear point. Much clearer than the way I have arranged my arsenal of ill-construed vocabulary. I'm sorry. -_-; *sigh*
Ryou woke up. He found himself sleepy, like every morning, but still somehow able to move. Sort of.
"Move, my dear limbs," he sighed, and flopped his arms in a desperate manner. They were deaf to his pleas.
Ryou decided he may not need his arms today, and moved across the room towards his dresser with only the bottom half of his person in compliance. He dressed himself with his teeth, and did not realize he had put on his pants inside out until he stopped in the bathroom.
*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*9*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*8*
At school, Ryou noticed only a few things out of the ordinary. In his mind, a mental list appeared: 1. Kaiba seems to know I'm here today. Usually he doesn't even realize I exist. 2. The general student population seems to have noticed me. 3. The girl who passes by me at lunch didn't ruffle my hair and say "O--h, you're so cute" today. She does that every day. (obsessive-compulsive disorder?) 4. The entire class has migrated to the far reaches of the room (far reaches being relative to where I am sitting). 5. Our teacher called in sick for the first time in the school year. We have a sub today.
Ryou was called out of mental-list mode by the substitute nervously tapping a ruler on his desk.
"Yessir?" Ryou asked softly. The substitute showed a falsely apologetic, half-nervous grin. This peculiar expression gave Ryou the impression that he was in trouble.
"Bakura-kun, I'll have to ask you to excuse yourself to the health office."
Such a strange request startled Ryou—he thought the teacher was about to hit him over the head. "Ano…doushitte?" (Um…why?)
The substitute repeated the frightening half-ass grin. "You, um, look pale," he explained lamely.
Ryou walked the empty halls. "Seems he was trying to get rid of me…" He reflected. Mental-list mode appeared on the Ryou Screen: 1. I'm soooo sleepy…*irrelevant Fact number one 2. People are certainly afraid of me today. 3. I don't remember what happened yesterday.
Pause. This, Fact three, seemed important. What happened yesterday?
Ryou could not remember any particulars, but when he thought harder he realized it was because yesterday as a whole was entirely absent from the Ryou Memory Folder. "Don't worry, I've got it," a voice from inside Ryou interrupted the frantic search of Files.
Ryou was about to respond when he saw he was already at the health office. He also remembered that disembodied voices were bad luck.
The woman in the health office saw Ryou come in, but quickly turned back to her work. Had Ryou been in possession of a pair of prehensile eyes, he would have shot a pleading glance in the direction he had heard the voice from. Since this voice was heard from inside his head, Ryou could shoot no pleading glance. He was feeling alienated again.
"Excuse me, Miss…" Ryou began. "I was sent here, and I don't exactly know why…" The woman got up and quickly shooed Ryou out of the office. For the first time, he decided to skip the rest of his classes. It didn't seem to matter today.
*AT THE CONTROL CENTER*
Bakura: When do I get to appear?
Author: Patience, dear sir. You are currently enrolled in The Void of Existence. You'll just have to whisper to him for now.
*Author and Bakura attentively watch a screen on which Ryou is walking home, more precisely cutting school.*
Ryou took a back route home, consisting of numerous alleyways and ominous-sounding music that sounded distant and muffled. "What could I have done to all those people? Did I do something yesterday and then pass out and forget? Will I be able to plead temporary insanity?" The music was still too distant to have any form associated with the abstract noise it made, but it got progressively closer. "Will anyone at school explain if I ask? What if they just run away?" Ryou was leaving one alley and entering a much wider one that was just off the street and behind two buildings. The music suddenly took the form of blaring rap on the radio of a monstrous SUV. It swerved off the street directly into the alley. Ryou hardly noticed. "What if they hit me?" A statement that at first meant classmates, and now meant car. Ryou's bowels released.
Bakura: Wait…do you mean I peed?
Author: To put it lamely, yes.
Bakura: I charge you for vulgarity in literature!
Author: Overruled. You have no case against me unless you have an Atticus Finch.
Ryou passed out before the car hit him. It skidded violently to a halt, where one of its front wheels grazed Ryou's motionless arm. Two high schoolers came out of the front seats and slammed the doors behind them. The rap music had not been turned off, and still blared at the alley.
"Holy s***, dude! That guy came out of ****ing nowhere!"
Author: I would like to take this moment to apologize to the reader, as this is the way guys at my high school talk down here in "F*** you" California. Not that I have anything against my beautiful state. After all, there's no smoking allowed in restaurants.
"You're the one who forgot to stop at that stoplight and swerved into an alley," commented Generic High Schooler's mild-mannered friend.
"That stupid Mazda would have scratched the paint if it'd ran into me!" Yelled Generic High Schooler.
"That's all it would've done. Your car would've ran right over it with only a 'bump' in protest," stated Mild-Mannered Friend. "Listen, we should take this guy to a hospital or something."
"No way! It's his fault if he was skipping school."
"We're skipping school too," Mild-Mannered Friend pointed out. "Besides, look at him. You scared him to death."
Generic looked down at the pathetic crumpled pile of Human at his feet. "We could take him back to the house." Mild frowned.
"That would hardly fix 'im up. He fainted, dude. You know you're supposed to-"
"Shut up and help me get 'im in the back seat," Generic interrupted. Mild sighed as he and Generic lifted the limp, white-haired boy. A motorcycle was heard from the street, and was coming into the alleyway.
"It's the cops!" Generic yelled, and dropped Ryou in his state of surprise.
"Well, duh, dude. You did run a stoplight and almost hit another car. And there's this guy," Mild nodded at the pile of Ryou.
Generic got in his car and somehow managed to turn back into the street. Mild got in the car before it took off without him. The blaring rap fading, one could faintly still hear their voices fade as well. "Well, f*** you too, dude…"
The motorcycle turned sharply into the alleyway and stopped right over Ryou where the front wheel grazed Ryou's motionless arm (this is sounding redundant). The rider removed his helmet and grinned malevolently down at the unconscious high schooler. He dismounted the motorcycle and poked Ryou with a long, gold staff. Ryou awoke.
"This is about the deal we made," said the rider as Ryou regained himself and got to his feet. "You promised me your partnership, tomb robber."
"I don't remember…wait. This deal…did we make it…yesterday?"
"Yeah. You don't…? Hey—you don't quite look like the same person. But you're too similar not to be. Hmph. Come with me." The stranger, seeming to have reached a decision, grabbed Ryou and dragged him by the arm. It may or may have not been gathered by now that this is not a policeman.
Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. J Just to let you know, I've already written out this entire fanfiction to the very last sentence, so there's no need to worry about writer's block or such things. I'll post periodically, but rest assured there is an ending. Please check back. *bows*