Disclaimer: I(Reifujin Kudeju) hold no legal rights over any of the latter mentioned characters. They are the sole properties of their respective owners. This work of fiction is not to be reproduced nor sold in any way, form, or fashion. The events in this story are completely fictional and any resemblance to any actual persons or events are unintentional. "Beautiful Goodbye" is copyright Amanda Marshall.
Title: Beautiful Goodbye
Author: Reifujin Kudeju
Type/Series: Animanga/Yu-Gi-Oh
Fanfiction Genre/Style: Angst/Songfic
Rating: Web-14
Warning: The following work of fan fiction includes suicidal tendancies, self-mutilation, blood.
Characters: Anzu, Jounuchi,Yugi/Yami Yugi, Ryou
Pairings: Jounuchi/Yugi, Yugi/Ryou
Summary: Yugi remembers his painful break-up from an unrequited love.
Fed up with my destiny
Place of no return
Think I'll take another day
Slowly watch it burn
Doesn't really matter
How time goes by
'Cause I'll still remember you and I
And our beautiful goodbye.
"Jounuchi!"
That name. That bloody name.
It screams itself at me, it wheedles, it cajoles, it whines, it threatens, it shouts me to pained and restless slumber on the nights I actually do sleep. It sings over the teacher's voice, it flows through my pencil and finds itself all over my notebooks and my eraser is tired of it.
The one name that kills me again each time I hear it out loud and in every revolution of it's constant repeat in my tortured mind.
It's been three years. Three. He shouldn't still affect me like this. But He does. He's a world away, yet He still tortures me, still laughs in my face. If anything, it's worse than it was when this slow slaughtering of my heart began those years ago. A highschool student shouldn't have to deal with unrequited love.
People tell me to get over it, that it's been too long for me to still be pining for the one who hurt me so badly. After three years of hearing 'Move on,' 'It's okay now,' 'He'll never hurt you again,' and 'We still love you,' I've learnt to ignore those sickeningly sweet words of false condolenses. Besides, they're wrong. They're all wrong.
I can't move on.
It's not okay, it will never be okay.
He'll hurt me again. He does every night. I can see His eyes, paining me more than the blade from which He stares back at me as it cuts me again and again, slicing my numbed flesh and sending adrenaline rushing through me in an addicting jolt of feeling.
They don't love me. They're too scared of what I've become because of the self-pitying hole I've dug myself and can't climb back out of.
But it doesn't matter. Not anymore. Not after tonight. I won't be the protector of good anymore. Why should I, how can I, protect something that no longer exists to me?
The candles are growing dimmer, it's almost time. The last blackened curls of crispened paper shrivel into white ashes. The pictures of us are now completely gone. I'm alone tonight, no one is home. The last tendrils of toxic smoke from the photographs choke me. A sigh escapes as my lungs finally stop their expultion of the foul pollution.
The knife glitters welcomingly as the flat of it slides across my hand. The sparkle caused by the flickering light mesmerizes me, distracts me from the lethal edge so close to slicing my tender skin. He always did say my hands were soft. My eyes finally refocus, and shift to a spreading splotch of blood in my palm. It registers slowly that I've cut myself. My hand pulls the knife away by the handle, stained with the blood of a thousand nights of a tortured boy curiously watching his own life running down the polished ebonywood handle, and slowly continuing to trickle down his arm.
I begin to laugh, and it only serves to further remind me that I'm no longer sane. Hell, was I ever? I close my fist slowly, and my nails dig into the wound. I open my mouth to gasp, but my throat closes, and my body only reels slightly from the conflicting commands.
Suddenly, I open my other hand, and drop the knife. Another mentally unstable grin plasters itself on my face. Why tonight? I'll give it another day in this shell of existance. Watch the others squirm uncomfortably in my presence. As I think about it, it is sort of entertaining, watching the looks of sorrow and pity from three years ago turn slowly in their faces one by one, to the looks of almost horror when I come into the room.
And anyway, it doesn't matter if I'm alive or dead, it's all the same plane of existance to me, just one option has the lights off. Time passes so slowly some days, then others, it's like they weren't even there. I'm sure it's the same in Hell.
I begin to blow out the candles, and as each one flickers out, I see His face in them, smiling, laughing, talking, dueling. As the last flame dies, the image sticks in my mind. I scream. I scream again. And again. I can't stop. Suddenly arms are encircling me, words are whispered in my ear but I can't make out who it is or what their saying over my uncontrollable wails. Sometimes it's His name, sometimes "no" sometimes just nonsense syllables, but I can't stop.
I don't know how long I stay like that, but I have a migraine, and whoever's been holding me probably does too. My stomach lurches, and I push the other away, staggering down the hall, and into the bathroom. I become violently sick. Somehow I manage to pull myself together to wash my face and brush my teeth. I look into the mirror, and He's behind me. I go rigid, my entire body freezing up. I blink once, twice, and realize it's not Him, it's Ryou. I turn to the other, and look at him. We're about the same heighth now. I notice his shirt is damp from where I'd been crying.
He looks hesitant to say anything, but a small, comforting smile is everpresent on his face. I wonder how he got in, but instead of asking, I lean foreward, embracing him in a gratitude I know I will never be able to fully express. He laughs. I pull back, startled. I look at him, and he turns away, leaning on the door and lifting a hand to his mouth as though it will hide his giggles of mirth.
Laughter is contagious.
Before I can inquire as to what seems to be so damned funny, I'm giggling too. Like a little school boy. I glance in the mirror again, and I realize what it is. I look like a hungover drunk who's just been pulled out of his cardboard box. I laugh harder, and slide to the floor, holding my sides. I hadn't laughed in three years, and this felt wonderful, despite the trauma I'd just put my own body through. He sits down next to me, and voices, "You look--" "Terrible. I know." I wipe my eyes. I've been crying again, but for a different reason. I've been crying because of laughing so hard.
Ryou's been there for me the entire three years. He's never given me a pitying look, never given the impression that he's scared to be around me. He's just. . .Ryou. Just my friend. And I love him dearly for that. I lean over, and lay my head on his chest. "Thank you." I murmur into his shirt. " 'Bout damn time!" I look up at him in shock. He smiles, and his lips touch my forehead. "Come on, you need sleep." he whispered to me.
"Sleep? What's that?" I reply sarcastically. I can't remember the last time I've had sleep. Ryou smiles again. He scoots away from me, then stands and extends his hand. "Maybe it's about time you remembered." I suddenly feel my stomach lurch again, but this time, I know I'm not going to be sick. I'm nervous. Then I'm watching my own hand reach out and grasp Ryou's, but I can barely feel the touch. I'm disoriented for a moment, then I realize Yami's taken over my body.
I don't understand why he's done such at a time like this. He'd not shown up since before The Breakup between Him and me. Everyone including me had thought Yami had gone. And I've not seen the millenium puzzle in such a long time, it was known, or so I'd thought, Yami's spirit was tied to the damn thing. Now I'm yelling at him, trying to figure out what the hell he means to do as he, controlling my body, walks hand in hand with Ryou down the hall and into my room.
Ryou can't tell the difference because now, one wouldn't be able to differentiate the voices between Yami and I since my voice changed. And not for the first time, I curse puberty in irritation. Yami lays our body down, and pulls Ryou down gently next to us. I don't understand. We snuggle close to Ryou, murmuring something that I can't hear because I'm cursing Yami . His thoughts ignore my pleas and threats.
Ryou begins to reply to the soft noises Yami is speaking through me, and I quiet my swears to listen. They're soft words, gentle, consoling, giving me hope. Yami is saying the most pitiful sounding things back to this boy before me. I realize he's relaying all the fears I've felt since The Breakup, and Ryou is listening patiently, with an odd look in his eyes. It's not pity, it's. . .it's something else but I don't know what. It looks like--no. HELL no.
The first thing I resolve to do when I get my body back is to kick myself in the ass and hope Yami feels it. I know he's been there watching silently for these three painful years, and he couldn't console me? He couldn't at least let me know he was there all those nights I cried, cold and feeling as though the world was against me? I'm just working myself up, and pissing myself off. I start yelling again, and suddenly, both Yami's physical voice and my voiceless yells are cut short.
An amazing feeling surges through me, my body jerks slightly. The electric jolt is followed by a fiery wave, then chills run up and down my spine and my fingertips go numb. It's as though fireworks are exploding next to me as I freefall from a cliff. My stomach is in more twists than a sailor's knot, and it feels as though it's riding up and down like I'm on the world's most loopy rollercoaster. The silence between our suddenly closened bodies is defeaning, yet the most welcome absence of noise for so long.
He's kissing me.
Yami allows a shocked and pleasured noise to escape, and I take a split second to feel victorious, that even Yami is taken aback, then I relax and let the feeling wash over me. Ryou's lips are parting over mine gently, and my head tilts, and my shoulders lift, then my chest, and my back arches foreward and my stomach presses to Ryou's. The feeling of our bodies touching, even though the contact is not bare, is amazing. Yami can feel it too, the exhileration, I can tell by his sudden lapse in the control of my body.
Yami now pushes my hand against Ryou's stomach, my fingers slipping under the untucked and now thoroughly rumpled button-down shirt as he pushes my body away from the other's, and my head leans back. Should I have had control for a brief moment, I would have probably pouted at the loss of the wondrous contact. "Gods." he voices through me finally.
I'm suddenly on top of Ryou, pinning him by the wrists. His eyes widen and he gasps, looking truely afraid. After all, it's no small-known fact that I'm completely insane. I'm a bit of a lit rocket out of a pack that most have proved duds. One never knows if or when I might go off. I try and fight Yami's control, because I no longer feel the pleasure of power seeing fear in another's face.
"What are your intentions with Yugi?" I hear myself growl out. I start slightly. Yami is worried about me? No, surely not. Otherwise, he'd have been there all those times. . . "Yami?" I now hear Ryou's shy voice, and I snap back from my thoughts. "Answer the question." I reply. I fight again as I speak against the ancient spirit, but to no avail. Yet again I cease as Ryou speaks. "I have no. . .no malicious intentions." he replies. "I only want to aid Yugi, I. .love him dearly, I can't see him like I do."
My heart melts, but Yami only snorts indignantly. "Why did you kiss me then?" Yami's hand is snaking from the other's wrist across slowly, pushing beneath the Ryou's collar. Now I'm afraid. Is he, am I, going to rape Ryou? Am I going to hurt him? My struggling isn't even answered by a bit of notice from Yami. Ryou seizes up and his head turns, eyes squeezed shut. "I. . .I don't know, it seemed. . .a-appropriate."
What the hell is this, twenty questions? I yell mentally at Yami, who, yet again, irritatingly enough, pays no attention. "You did? Well, well. What would you do for Yugi?" "Anything I have to." He's becomming breathless. We're unbuttoning Ryou's shirt. I suddenly wish I cut my fingernails more often, but I don't understand the thought that seems so random until they're digging into Ryou's soft skin above his collar bone, dragging down. Ryou's shaking. Like a leaf. I beg for Yami to stop in an incessant stream of pleads. "Even so far as--"
The shock paralyzes my thoughts. Would Yami actually do such a thing? Hell, of course. Why not? It's not like it's going to affect the bastard. I'm again crying for him to stop. Ryou's back arches up towards my body and I feel another clench of that amazing feeling. "Yes." he breathes. "I would--I will." he whispers. His arms are reaching, up and around me, fingertips resting on my back, slipping down slightly towards my sides. The paths his fingers had crossed across my shirt made the skin beneath burn with erotic pleasure. Yami's affected by it too. I know he is. I can feel the pleasure he's experiencing as well, and it's vice versa.
"I don't believe you." Yami speaks and I can't believe it. Why not? Why don't you believe him, you fool? He would never lie! Not like this! I'm about to give up. Yami shuts me up with a harsh thought. I wish to god I can't hear or see what Yami's doing, but I have no choice. My sense of touch seems suddenly magnified by an ungodly amount. I can feel each delicate thread of Ryou's shirt as the pads of my fingers catch on it lightly, pushing it from the other's body, and now his torso is exposed bare to me. I think briefly I've regained control because I can feel the physical touch so well, but I haven't.
Blood is pricking up on Ryou's chest and stomach where I've scratched him, and each small severance in the skin makes me want to wince. Ryou's hands are now on my upper arms, resting lightly. His body arches towards me again, and our groins touch. I can feel my own body involuntarily scrunching down slightly, my head lowers. The surge of pleasure is amazing, and I curse myself for enjoying the torture of my best friend--my only friend.
Soon, Ryou's laying before me, completely naked. I want to cry, to scream, to. . .to. . .I don't know, but I can't take this. Yami's using my hands to unbuckle my belt, and slowly unbutton my jeans, then unzip the teeth of the zipper one by agonizing one, as though he's enjoying taunting Ryou with such an impending pain, one that will obviously be excrutiating. I know I couldn't handle it--even Yami wouldn't be able to feel such abuse and stand it. And Ryou's very emotionally strong, but--physically, he's so frail.
After all, the hologram battles a year ago, his arm had been broken just by a fall he'd suffered. My hands are now pressing against Ryou's chest, and I can feel his life beating a rhythm beneath me. Ryou's cheeks are flushed, his soft lips parted. Yami slides my hands lower, and I panic. Now we're touching Ryou, gripping him. He's. . .oh god he's crying. His hand has lifted to his face, and he's biting down on his forefinger. I can hear his desperate whimpers, and I can feel my nails again digging into his skin, but now at a much more sensitive place.
His eyes open wide, and he jerks slightly. I can feel he scream he supresses. Yami lifts Ryou's hips, and he goes completely still and limp. I think he's passed out until he opens his eyes and looks up at me, touching my cheek, caressing. "Go ahead, Yami. I told you I would do this for Yugi and I will. Do it." His hand drops to the bedspread, and he sighs. I can feel myself pressing against Ryou.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!!"
I suddenly realize I spoke out loud. Again I feel that brief disorientation, and then I realize I've regained control of my own body. I scramble backwards, and kneel on the floor. I can't stop shaking as I dissolve into tears. I'm horrified at what I nearly did. Ryou is once again beside me, now wrapped in a blanket off my bed. He hugs me close, and I push him away. Why is he showing affection to me, when I almost raped him?
He persists, and hugs me tightly, preventing me from shoving him away again. He speaks my name gently, then again, then once more, louder when I don't respond. I look up at him, and his lips find my tears and kiss them away. I can't believe this. I move down slowly, and lay my head in his lap, curling up. I glance up briefly and he's just smiling. His fingers begin to slowly brush through my hair.
"Don't weep for me, Yugi. I do not regret my words nor Yami's actions. I love you. I know you still love Jonouchi, and you probably don't need to be hearing this, but--"
"Shut up."
"What?"
"Shut up. Just SHUT UP!" I sob aloud, covering my ears. "Why?! It doesn't make sense! How can you love me? You're lying! You don't love me! None of them do anymore, why are you any different?!"
I'm completely flipping out over this, but Ryou takes it in stride.
"Because I am. I see you, not that shell you've crawled into." He pulls me up towards him, and lifts me onto the bed, where he lays next to me, and pulls me close, beneath the blanket, against his nude body. "I do love you." he whispers. He's touching me. No where private, but his knuckles are gingerly brushing against my face slowly, caressing. I let out a vague moan. When I open my eyes again, he seems to have been pleased with my reaction. Quite suddenly, I take his hand, and bury my head in his chest. I can almost feel his smile on me. I stay like that, take comfort in the vague, sweet scent of him, and he strokes my hair lightly.
Ryou suddenly wakes me from a doze. "Yugi, it's morning." he says softly. I look up at him, and blink sleepily against the rude light. I'm covered with the blanket Ryou had covered himself with, and he's sitting next to me, dressed again. He smiles at me, an exhausted smile. I feel terrible. Not physically, but emotionally, knowing my selfishness caused him a night of sleep. Looking at me, I think he sort of guesses my thoughts. He reaches over, and pats my cheek once, twice, playfully, but sort of hard. I giggle. He smiles again. "Think you can get up? Or do you want to 'sleep late'? Anzu is here, in case you're interested."
I don't really know why, but I bolt upright. Ryou leans back in surprise, and ends up falling off the bed. "Ryou!" He glares up at me as I start laughing at him. His expression softens, and he gets up, popping my nose with his hand. "Get up you lazy thing, and get dressed." He commands, with a grin on his face. His lips are touching my cheek, then he's gone from the room. I drag myself out of bed, blinking groggily. "Ngh. . ." I dig through my closet. Damn do I need to do laundry.
I hop, literally, into a pair of jeans, losing my balance and dancing across the room to get my other leg in. Anzu and Ryou must be wondering what the hell I'm doing. After managing to get on a black tank top, I shuffle into the bathroom. I look in the mirror and suppress a laugh at my terrible appearance. I splash water onto my face and scrub at it a few moments, brush my teeth, and attempt to tame my hair at least into a semblance of decency.
I look up into the corner of a mirror, and there's a photograph there I'd forgotten about last night. Jounuchi and I, on his bed. I'm laying down on my side and he's leaning over me with such a cheesy grin on his face, giving me bunny ears. I look like I'm taking a perfectly serious picture, with a mild smile on my face. To my own surprise, the photo brings back fond memories. I put it back up in the frame of the mirror and smile.
Chapter Two: Second Verse
Yugi appears to have made a sudden, miraculous recovery from his long-ago break up with Jonouchi. Will the others believe it? And rumours of a certain young man's final return will again threaten Yugi's--and Ryou's--sanity.
Like what you've read? Hate it? Review!
Have a request for more Yu-Gi-Oh or some other anime, or perhaps a book(I.E. Harry Potter, LOTR, etc.), email me!