Note: So, this is a one shot. And no, I'm not giving up on Child Of Egypt, I'm just…being slow…IT'LL BE FINISHED SOON I SWEARS!!! Ya know, some reviews would help to speed that along nice and fast.
Disclaimer: I own YOUR ATTENTION! Bwahahahahaha! But not Yu-gi-oh.
Warnings: Mentions of rape, and language. Oh, and extreme adorableness of Ryou.
Ryou licked his lips and swung his feet in the plastic chair. He liked this room, it was so different from his bed room. The walls here were painted in bright colors, mostly pastels, like Easter had come and forgotten to leave; so unlike the plain white walls of his room. The desk in this room was his size, low to the floor. Finally the right size for the 8 year old. The mocha-eyed youth reached out for the crayons before him and pulled a piece of paper towards him. He drew a little house, with a chimney and a sun that smiled. In the front of the house he drew a stick figure with two curved lines for long hair, another figure with shorter hair, and two more with no hair. Then, almost as an after thought, he drew a window in the triangular part of the house where the attic would be, and drew a head peeping down at the stick family. Taking up the blue crayon he started to color in the sky, leaving room puffy clouds.
Then the door opened, and a pretty young woman walked in, sitting down across from the pretty boy. She pushed her chestnut hair behind her ear, though the bob cut was short enough that it didn't stay for long. She smiled at Ryou.
"Hey there, kiddo," she said in a cheerful tone. Ryou looked up at her and smiled, wide and happy.
"Hello. How are you?" he asked. The woman smiled back, a true smile. Ryou was the youngest of her patients, young enough to still have the absolute manners that his parents had instilled in him. She spent so much of her day faking smiles it felt good to talk to this boy, her one patient who truly made her happy. Ryou was her favorite, her other patients, all older than him, were….scary sometimes. Ryou acted more like how little kids should. He didn't talk about hurting animals or being angry all the time.
"I'm good, how are you today hun?" she asked. Ryou was the kind of kid that made you think of a hundred little nicknames for. He grinned a happy smile and bounced a little in his seat. He told her all about a tv show he had been watching lately. He told her all about the characters and the plot and who he thought was a villain and how the hero was going to find him. Normal kid talk that adults tuned out.
Eventually he sort of turned his attention back to his little drawing, adding a fat pink tulip next to the house. The woman smiled at the picture. So normal, though if it were to scale the tulip would have come up to the first row of windows while the width would have exceeded the average person's head.
"Lemme see that?" she asked. Ryou proudly handed the picture over, happy she had noticed. "Wow, this is good, you're a regular Picasso." She swept her eyes over the figures, the flower, the sun, the clouds, then the house. His little nuclear family, but who was in the window? "Who are all these people?" she asked him, setting the paper back down on the table so he could point them out.
"That's Amane, and that's mommy, and daddy, and that's me," he explained, pointing to each stick figure in turn. He seemed about to say something, but paused for a moment, and looked to the left with a strange look on his face; as if he was hearing things she couldn't.
"Ryou?" the woman asked. He looked back to her, eyes taking a second to focus. Once she was sure she had his attention she pointed to the head peaking out of the window. "Who's that?" He looked to the left again, that same look of recognition in his eyes. It was such a natural movement that she almost turned to see who he was looking at. Almost. Instead she waited for him to look back at her, then down at his picture.
"That's Bakura." He said it as if it was obvious. As if she should know that. She took in a small breath and sat back in her chair. Well, so much for normalcy. Ryou seemed to pick up on her mood, tucking his hand under his legs and pressing his back to the chair.
"Who's Bakura?" She knew of course. She had known about Bakura for a long time.
The boy before her, Ryou Bakura, was schizophrenic. He heard voices, or rather, one voice. He had named it Bakura. Not very original, picking his own last name. He had been bumped around from his school guidance councilor to a psychologist and finally to her; a specialist. It seemed Bakura might have simply been an imaginary friend at one point, but had developed into a separated personality. Ryou seemed to use Bakura to help cope with the death of his sister and mother, but had developed an increasing dependency on him when his father had begun to abuse him. How did they know he had been abusing the young boy? It had started when he came to school every day covered from head to toe in bruises. The question remained if his father had raped him. It was not a question she was eager to ask.
"He's…" again, he looked to the left. "He's my friend….my only friend." She frowned.
"Aw, you mean we're not friends?" she asked him. She asked that particular question countless times throughout the day, so it surprised her when she actually gave a shit about this answer. Ryou, dismayed, turned his big eyes towards her then.
"No! We're friends! I-" he glanced, always to the same place. "I meant that Bakura is my best friend." She licked her lips. Perhaps there was someone behind her? Maybe Ryou wasn't looking at his 'friend'.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that we're friends. 'Cuz you know, friends can tell each other anything. And I'd never tell any of your secrets to anybody." That was a lie. Hell, every session the boy had ever had since he arrived to that place was taped, labeled, and stored away for any of the doctors to listen to. But Ryou smiled, and believed her. "Ryou, I've got a few things I need to ask you. Now I know you probably won't want to talk about this stuff, but it's important for you to answer as much as you can, alright?" He nodded. He was such a good kid, really. "Good. Ryou, did your father ever teach you that it was alright for people to touch you?" God please let the answer be no.
Ryou looked to the left before answering, "No. There's only one person who's allowed to touch me." The woman raised her eyebrows but he stopped speaking then.
"And who is that?"
"Bakura." So he was using Bakura to take the blame rather than his father. She made note of it on her legal pad.
"And what happens if anyone other than Bakura touches you?" She really didn't want to know the answer. Ryou licked his lips, his shoulders moving forward so his chest was protected. His eyes dropped to the table.
"I g-get punished." How long had he had that stutter? Was he scared or did he need speech therapy?
"Punished how?" The boy drew his lower lip between his teeth and bit down for a second. He pressed his legs together, hooking one ankle around the other. Oh God. Then he looked up, as always, to the left. He waited for a few moments, then tilted his head. It almost looked like he was nodding. Then he smiled at her, but the motion never met his eyes.
"I don't want to talk about this anymore," he told her. Well, she had been expecting that. But…her bosses were really breathing down her neck. She needed to start asking these questions but….they could wait…at least for a little.
"Sure. What do you want to talk about?" she asked lightly. He smiled a real smile.
"Do you have any kids?" Well that was unexpected. It was such an adult thing to ask. Most kids didn't give two shits if you had kids or not.
"Nope, not yet. But you know what, when I do have kids I hope I have one just like you," she told him, and it was the truth….minus the whole schizophrenic thing. He blushed, a pretty flush of color across his pale cheeks.
The orderlies had let his hair grow, thick, pearly locks of it tumbling down to his lower back, increasing the illusion that he was a girl. He could easily pass for one. He was thin, though most children were at his age, his eyes were very feminine, with thick black lashes. His bone structure had all the delicacy of a girls. He was very….pretty. And his hair, such an unusual color, pure white. No color to it at all.
Who the hell could want to hurt such a sweet kid? His father really was one sick fuck. It made her want, no, need to see him behind bars. Maybe that's why she asked what she asked next.
"Ryou, did your father ever….touch you? In one of the places he wasn't supposed to?" Ryou looked at her with a confused expression on his face.
"Daddy? No. He used to hug me…" Again, eye contact with the left corner, though she didn't see it. That's right. Ryou was using Bakura as the dark part of his father. Any behavior from his father that he didn't understand he blamed on Bakura.
"What about Bakura? Did he ever touch you places he wasn't supposed to?" Ryou glanced at her, then back to the corner. He was silent for a long while, before turning his gaze back to her.
"No." Could it be that no one had ever touched this boy? A wave of relief surged over her. "There are no places that Bakura isn't allowed to touch me." And the wave crashed against the rocks and broke.
"Where did he touch you Ryou?" The child before her drew his legs up on the chair. He wrapped his arms around his knees and rested his cheek on them. He had eye only for the corner now, not even bothering to make eye contact with his therapist anymore.
"…everywhere…" he said quietly. Gone was his cheerfulness. He seemed so submissive now, rather than happy and young. He seemed like he had aged so much in the last thirty seconds.
"Ryou, I-" she started, but he cut her off.
"I don't want to talk about this anymore." She bit her lip.
"Ryou, I want to help you. But I can't unless you tell me what happened to you," she continued as if he hadn't interrupted her.
"I don't want to talk about this. I want to go to bed. I'm very tired," he told her, but she knew he was just saying that so she would leave him alone.
"Ryou-"
"PLEASE! I don't want to! I just want to go to sleep!" he yelled suddenly. He had never yelled before. The eruption seemed to surprise him too, as he slapped his hands over his mouth, eyes wide and brimming with tears at his outburst.
She wanted so badly to give him a hug, but from what he had said she doubted he would allow her to. Or rather 'Bakura' would allow her.
"Okay Ryou. We don't have to talk anymore today." She was a little hurt that he had yelled, and he seemed to pick up on that. He really was a smart kid.
"I-I'm sorry, I don't know why I yelled I…" She shook her head.
"It's okay. We'll hang out again tomorrow, okay?" The woman had already picked up the phone to call an orderly to escort him back to his room.
Ryou smiled and nodded, once again the happy little kid he was meant to be.
The old woman was walking him back to his room. She was really old. Her hair had gone gray all the way through and she walked all slow and she could never hear him when he talked to her. But Ryou didn't mind. Bakura kept him company.
"I don't like that woman," Bakura told him, though the old lady didn't hear him. She really must be deaf. He was right behind her. Ryou shrugged.
"I like her," he said without opening his mouth, a trick Bakura had taught him.
"I don't like all the questions she asks. When are we getting out of here anyway?" his yami continued, though he didn't expect an answer from his host.
"She doesn't mean anything by it…" Ryou said more to himself than Bakura, but he heard Ryou anyway. Bakura rounded on him.
"What was that, boy?" he demanded. Ryou stopped dead in his tracks, the old lady turned to look at him, but he only had eyes for the angry demon before him.
"Ryou?" she asked, her ancient voice wavering. He swallowed, but remained stationary.
"Move boy." He obeyed…he always did. He scurried after the woman and remained silent till they got back to his room. The elderly woman smiled at him, unlocking the door.
"Pleasant dreams, Ryou," she told him before locking him in with his worst nightmare.
Bakura stood at the foot of his bed, arms crossed over his chest. The boy shivered under the scrutiny, and instead chose to look around his barren room. He wasn't allowed pencils, or anything to decorate with. So his walls remained white and empty. Perhaps he could ask for something to put on them if he was good. If he could just be good enough maybe he could have all the things normal little boys had.
"Ryou." He turned to his darkness. He always got the boy's full attention, the moment he demanded it. Bakura came before anything else. "You've been good today, so I suppose you don't need to be punished." Ryou smiled, that was always good. "Now go to sleep." The child happily lay down in his bed and closed his eyes.
Eventually Bakura laid down behind him, pressing his body along the younger boy's. That's how it was every night. Well…every night he had been good.
So, like I said, one shot. And I know that Ryou didn't get the ring till he was what, 9? But I needed him to be a bit younger….so….8 it was. HAHA! Review??