Legacy of a Nightmare: Ryou's Tale
最も深いきらめきは暗闇で眠るために埋められる。 悲哀、Ryouの天使!
~*~*~*~*~
Quote:
In the Darkness, the almighty darkness,
Lives a wee, petite twinkle of light.
Buried safe within the darkness,
The almighty darkness,
Masterless as it is locked away."
__________________
Sleeping pills.
Darned little things became habit forming after awhile. One night you took one-just one-and the next, you'd find yourself staring up at your bedroom ceiling for a good ten minutes.
The digital clock's red digits now read twenty.
Thirty.
Forty five minutes……
Ryou sighed, and turned slightly in his discomfort, wincing when a sore spot on his chest cavity throbbed in protest. Of course.
Zorc….as they had called him….had indeed been destroyed in Egypt by Yami and his, as Seto put it, "Fearsome Foursome of a Cheerleading squad."
That was really rather too harsh. Yugi was still brokenhearted over the absence of his Yami. While Ryou and the others did their best to comfort him, the albino was sometimes a little at a loss of what to tell him.
For, his Yami never left him.
Ever.
And, he was reminded quite daily of that said fact…..
~*~*~*~*~
Bakura had sealed one last token of his soul as a safeguard in a small crevice of Ryou's own pure thoughts.
And that overwhelming malice in his nightmares had haunted him again and again, causing a boy to startle awake more than one time, heart hammering, breathing ragged, and flesh now in a cold sweat.
….till a broken Bakura used it to return once again. In his desperation, there had nothing to do but return to his host's body.
Yugi and his friends still had no idea. And, why should they know?
The seven millennium items were gone. Finished.
Forever.
There was nothing left for the spirit to fight for.
Save for his position in his host's body.
~*~*~*~
Only one millennium item had found its way back to resurrection….and it hadn't taken to guess which one it was.
The ring was now practically glued to the poor boy's chest-so intense was his Yami's fear that Ryou would simply toss him away to expire within the ring's dark halls. Bakura was now dependent on every single breath and heartbeat of his host's.
The wraith's power was quite diminished…..nothing like when they had first met…..
Ryou bit his lip to stop himself from making a noise in the darkness.
He hadn't thought of this particular tale for such a very, very long time……
~*~
They call it the "shock impact."
Scientists have long since developed the term-or, in other words, gave name to something anyone could merely guess at, and made a study of said term.
It was always the unexpected that caused paralysis. Or, at the very least, an extremely crushing blow to someone physically and mentally.
Perhaps both.
Which was why a five year old Bakura-ornately dressed in a black tuxedo-was staring blankly at the two coffins by the church altar, tears rapidly sliding down his face.
~*~*~*~
The sweet scent of the nearby floral arrangements did nothing to soothe him. Nor the man in the tuxedo whose face was indiscernible-and cast into shadow as the small boy beside him continued to weep.
Outside, rain was pattering softly on the stained glass windows and the old wood of the chapel, but it went unheeded as Ryou continued to sob, unbeknownst earning a few sympathetic glances from the few in attendance in the pews as he did so.
Ryou was quite glad his reading skills were still only developing-not that he'd ever able to be able to discern anything with such swollen eyes-but at least he did not have to read the inscriptions of the nearby tombstones, set to be laid out onto the ground during the burial:
Natsumi and Amane Bakura.
Natusmi: Born, January Nineteenth, 1974
Died: October Fourth, 1998
Amane: Born, June Sixth, 1995
Died: October Fourth, 1998
Resurgam
~*~
The two had died in a traffic accident merely days earlier. A careless joyrider had the car sent straight into a tree over sixty four miles per hour. Police reports indicated that the airbags had failed, the glass shattered, and, well….
To simply put it, they'd both died. Almost instantly.
~*~
Ryou had not ceased his wild tears by day or by night. The smallest thing would set him off, and he would again begin to cry, sobbing or wailing into his already salt soaked pillows.
Father too, had wept….but, after the first two days, had merely cascaded himself alone in his room. And, although the housekeeper had anxiously knocked-several times-he was mute to all requests, sympathetic cards, and well wishers.
Including a fellow mourner, as Ryou had received nothing from the many times he had desperately pounded on the door, in dire need of an embrace that would not come.
~*~
The ceremony was short-not particularly sweet. People watched in hushed, somber reverence as the two coffins-one pitifully small-were slowly lowered into the muddy earth.
Ryou closed his eyes, wishing to drown out the scene as he continued to helplessly whimper.
Or, at the very least, he wished that he had followed the two.
As people began to depart, drawing up black umbrellas and bustling for their cars, the doctor turned at last to Ryou, face hardened.
"Son?"
The boy merely clung to his leg, continuing the helpless barrage of tears. The man sighed, bent down, and uncertainly crushed the little albino to his chest.
"Ryou….I'm sorry."
The boy's face was pressed into the man's shoulder, but he said nothing. The man sighed.
"Son….I'm….well. I just thought that, well…..you should probably know something."
The child's breathing hitched somewhat. He was listening. The man drew Ryou away by the shoulders, eyes boring into each other.
"I need….to go. Right now. Away."
Now slightly puzzled, Ryou rubbed at a red eye, while the man sighed, reached for his handkerchief in his pocket, and began to dab at the corners of the boy's eyes.
"Go….where? H-home?"
A bitter smile twitched at the corners-if only slightly-of the man's mouth.
"….no, Ryou. I'm reassuming my work as an archaeologist. My new term starts tomorrow-I've been packing all week."
Ryou's heart began to hammer.
"O-Okay. Jus' let me get some of my-"
The hands on his thin shoulders tightened.
"Ryou."
The boy again stared at the humorless eyes of his father, looking puzzled.
"I need to get out of here. Your mother-"
His voice broke off, and the man jerked his head away, closing his eyes behind his spectacles.
"It's no good. I can't stay here anymore-I-I need some time."
Ryou's heart continued to flutter-like a captive bird's behind his tiny ribcage.
"I know. Y-you said that. And I'm coming, t-"
"No."
The word jolted like a thousand volts down the boy's spine as enormous green eyes widened.
"W-What? I-I don't-"
"Ryou. You. Are. Not. Coming. With. Me."
The man's trembling voice was stern, nonetheless.
"I'm sorry, son. Truly, I am-and I WILL write to you occasionally, okay?"
He squeezed the boy's arm, desperate to make him smile.
"….my flight leaves for Egypt soon. I have to get going. Never fear-you're going to live with your aunt for just a little while."
Aunt Eleanor? The woman who insisted upon getting twenty two hours of "beauty sleep" and the remaining two devoted to soap operas?
Ryou began to tremble violently as he again threw his arms around the man's waist.
"Nooooo! No! No! No! Noooooooooooo!"
Again, the small boy began to wail, as a shiny black car slowly made its way towards the two. Ryou's father sighed once again as Ryou sobbed.
"I don't WANT to go! I don't WANT to live with Aunt Eleanor! Take me WITH YOU-I WANT TO GO TO EGYPT, TOO!"
"Son-"
"Please, please, PLEASE! I won't be a bur-"
"Ryou-"
Ryou continued his desperate pleas.
"I don't want you to go away, too-"
"RYOU!"
The sharp tone started the young boy into a fresh wave of tears. The man glanced behind him-as the taxi driver began to impatiently prod at the glass of his watch.
"Ryou, son, I'm sorry. I'm really, truly, sorry-but I WILL be back. This, I swear. I just need time….alone."
The young boy glanced up, tears still trickling from the corners of his eyes as the man sighed once more.
"Eleanor will be here to pick you up any second now. Your bags have already been packed-so don't worry. Everything will be fine."
No, everything would not be fine. It HAD been-but it certainly was not now-nor did it seem likely that it would ever be so again.
The man managed a weak, half hearted attempt at a small smile as he reached into his pocket, and tugged out a small parcel, wrapped in tissue paper.
"Here, son…..this…this is for you. I found it on one of my trips….some years ago in a local bazaar."
Uncertain hands reached for the small piece, jerked back, and then, Ryou turned to look questioningly at the man.
Ryou's father nodded in approval as the small, circular package was carefully placed in the small boy's hands.
"Keep that safe for me, won't you?"
The boy's throat had an excruciating lump rise to his throat as his eyes dilated.
"Papa-"
The man gently wrenched himself out of the boy's grip, and made his way towards the taxi. He paused in midstep, not daring to turn around. He already knew he would find Ryou's devastated features haunting him.
"Take….take care of yourself for me, son."
And with that, the car door slammed, and the black vehicle took off into the rain, leaving Ryou alone amongst a sea of gray tablets.
~*~*~*~*~
It was a shame Ryou only had a slight cold from being out in the rain all day. Truth be told, he would rather had gotten pneumonia and died.
Aunt Eleanor had her chauffeur drop the two off at her chateau, where Ryou had been immediately given a small nursery….as well as a warning not to LEAVE said nursery after she'd hurried down the steps to begin her role as hostess for the wake…..
…which Ryou was not allowed to attend. Eleanor had never attempted to hide her dislike for her sister-in-law….but she had, indeed-been shaken up by the prospect of the death of her niece.
The small boy lay curled on his new bed, the sea of sobs never skipping beat as one of Eleanor's friends laughed boisterously from below, no doubt a large bottle of sherry or some sort of spirit in her hands….
Attempting to drown out the repulsive noise, Ryou had rocked back and forth, whimpering occasionally from under his vintage pillow.
The room was simply made-a blue carpet on the bleached hardwood floor, light blue curtains on the bay window with a plush seating to look OUT said window….
There was a small bookshelf, carelessly stacked with titles by Eleanor-and a rather more sensible person had organized and alphabetized. Still, Ryou didn't think he'd be reading Gone With the Wind anytime soon.
There was also a small toy chest-as well as those Ryou's father had packed, but, other then pulling out his small, slightly woebegone, plush snow bunny to squeeze in the dark, these things remained ignored.
Back and forth he rocked, and louder and louder the noises from below grew as the young child stared into space, now absorbed into silence.
The hours went past, one after another. Although the boy soon became exhausted, he was nowhere near a desire for slumber.
At last, the voices had begun to drown out and away as people stumbled away from the chateau, singing or hiccupping. Ryou buried his face in his hands.
A few minutes went by. With a shuddering sigh, Ryou began to draw himself down from the bed, until his foot met something.
Far past caring, he saw the small, still unwrapped parcel that Father had given him. For a moment or two, he simply gazed at the old paper, wondering only faintly why the old piece made him feel…slightly uneasy.
He did not like it. It was still only a piece of…whatever in some old newspaper…..but the small thing created an unnaturally unpleasant vibe-like that you received venturing into the darkness of an unknown location-and having a few frantic heartbeats to yourself before turning around to flee.
Still, he gazed at the small lump, quivering fingertips reaching for the small piece.
And-Darn it all. Now the tears had come.
Impatiently swiping at his eyes, Ryou buried himself under the covers, inwardly begging for sleep. It simply wasn't healthy to take a sleeping pill every night before bed-and now, he understood why. The urge to swallow his body in blissful oblivion was almost more than the small boy could stand.
A deep, rasping, reverberating voice echoed inwardly from
"Ryou….."
The young boy squeezes his eyes shut as Bakura summons his weak, corporeal form beside him, praying beyond belief that the ghost would simply return to slumber.
But it's no good. It never is, really.
Something tugs impatiently at his hair, and, with a small, resigned sigh, Ryou turns to face Bakura, who's currently glaring daggers at him.
"Sleep."
His voice was curt, and his tone had delivered in such a way that Ryou knew immediately it had been an order, not a suggestion.
The boy contorted in surprise nonetheless.
When was the last time his Yami told him to do THAT?
But Ryou didn't receive enough time to muse upon the matter, as two hands now harshly began to grip at his shoulders, chocolate glaring daggers into green as Bakura began to speak once again.
"Ryou. I need this body to function. You will stop thinking. You will sleep.
Now."
Of course-that was the main concern: the body that they…"shared." It was always nice to…share. Not so nice having it snatched from you.
But hadn't Ryou given it to him? The young boy shook the thought off, and managed a timid smile.
"G-Gomen nasai. I-I'll try."
Bakura did not respond, but his brow furrowed slightly. Ryou had little time to blink in confusion.
"W-Wha…..?"
~*~
Whew! Okay, that's all I can do for now. ^^ Please, just let me know if you wanted more. ^^