Author's Note: Ryou Bakura's past is incredibly vague. As a Bakura fan, I dislike this, because I want to know lots about the white-haired, highly interesting, and pleasing-to-look-at boy that we all love. However, as a writer, his vague past is like a gold pot at the end of the rainbow. You have so much room to play with.
This idea emerged from, believe it or not, my anatomy and physiology book. Yay for definitions …?
Please enjoy :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Bakura, nor do I own his family members. Since you are all pretty familiar with the fanfiction world, you should already know this and I shouldn't have to say it. But you might not be familiar. So I'm saying it. Don't sue me, damn it!
It was an unusually cool day for summer in Winchester, England. The lower temperature, a balmy 78 degrees, was a pleasant break from the sweltering 90 and 100 degree weather from the past weeks. The summer sun beat down with equal parts heat and light on the green fields and blooming bushes.
A woman was driving down a long country road, her light blond hair flailing in the wind, her blue eyes sparkling as she laughed gaily. Every so often, she would throw a glance at the rear view mirror to check on her daughter, sleeping soundly in her car seat. When the mother wasn't looking at her girl, she was peeking at her son, seated in the front seat next to her. She disregarded the warning on the flap-down mirror that said not to let young children sit in the front seat. The boy was only ten, but he was tall enough and weighed enough to be safe. His head was pressed against the window, the white strands of hair brushing the door handle.
"What are you looking at, Ryou?" she asked, curiously.
Her son pulled his head away and sat up straight. He looked at her, his face serious, and said, "I could have sworn I saw a cow running across the field."
"Was it chasing its baby?"
The child shook his head. "I don't think so. It was just … running."
The woman chuckled lightly. The sound was like bells to Ryou and it was soothing to his ears. "Cows can run too, you know. They have to get their exercise somehow." She looked at her baby in the back seat again. "Shh, don't talk too loudly. You might wake up Amane."
Ryou covered his mouth like he had said a bad word. He twisted around to watch his baby sister sleeping. Her pale hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her cheeks were red from her jaunt in the field and her mouth was curled in a smile, as though remembering the activities of the day. Ryou grinned as he turned back to face the front.
"She looks really tired."
"I bet she is," his mom responded. "Are you tired, Ryou?"
"No," the boy responded promptly. He stifled a yawn behind his hand. "I'm not tired at all. I would do this whole day over again, if I could!"
"Would you now?"
"Of course! If I could turn back time, I would spend the rest of my life on this day."
The mother smiled sympathetically, thinking of her husband. "But what about daddy? Don't you ever want to see him again?"
Ryou furrowed his eyebrows, feeling bad for forgetting about his father. His face lit up as he came to the perfect solution. "We'll have to bring him along when we go back in time, that way he can be with us all day, all the time."
"That's a good idea," the woman nodded, her hair falling in front of her eyes.
She drove on for another hour, leaving the country crops and greenery behind, and entering the world of stone, cars, and machines once more. When she had finally reached a stoplight, she reached over and gave Ryou's shoulder a small shake, waking him from his slumber.
"Wake up, sleepy head. I thought you weren't tired."
Ryou yawned widely, throwing his arms above him in an exaggerated stretch. "I'm not tired, I was just resting for a little bit," he stated.
The light turned green at that moment. As she pressed the gas pedal, the woman stole another glance at Amane in the back, still sleeping as soundly as she had been an hour ago.
"Mommy, watch out!"
~.~.~.~.~.~
Ryou noticed the truck approaching the intersection at breakneck speed. It was fine though. He saw cars moving fast all the time. They always stopped at the signs and the street lights. It was the law; they had too. So he didn't think anything of the oncoming vehicle getting closer with every passing breath. He didn't pay attention to it because it didn't concern him.
But then his mother started to move. It was then that he realized that the truck wasn't slowing down like it was supposed to. It wasn't going to obey the law. It was going to continue through the light, even though it wasn't allowed too. Ryou caught sight of the driver's face through the windshield. The man's face looked pale, his mouth opened in an 'O.'
"Mommy, watch out!" Ryou cried. As he said it, he covered his head with both hands and bent forward.
Mrs. Bakura whipped her head around and moved her foot to the brake pedal. As she slammed her foot down, she thought, 'I should have kept going.'
The last time she saw her son was through terror filled eyes, with a mother's concern that he might get hurt. Just before her world went black, she noted that Amane was still sleeping.
Haruku Bakura sat numbly on the hospital bed. Under the white, starched sheet was his only son, Ryou. His only son and, now, his only child. The boy's hair blended in with the bed, and Haruku tried not to think of what it had looked like only hours before; red and drenched where it had been soaking in pools of blood. Ryou had a bandage around his forehead, covering up the wound he had received from hitting the roof of the car and the various pieces of glass.
The doctor said that Ryou had been lucky.
"The truck was not very big; if it had been, you would have lost all three of them. Your boy was lucky that it was smaller and that he had been sitting on the passenger side."
Haruku vaguely recalled making a sarcastic comment about how everything was okay, because he had only lost two of his family, not all three.
"You haven't lost your wife yet, Mr. Bakura," the doctor had explained patiently. "She received a severe amount of damage to her reticular activating system, but we may be able to revive her, though the likelihood of that occurrence is slim.
"Damage to her what? What the fuck are you saying?"
The doctor had placed a hand lightly on Haruku's shoulder, giving a slight squeeze. "She's in a coma. We can try to bring her back after she's in a more stable position but … there's no guarantee that she'll survive. I'm sorry, sir."
The man felt himself shudder violently as he thought of his wife, her beautiful, bright, blue eyes and long, pale hair. He envisioned Amane, almost an exact copy of her mother. He didn't like to think about it, but he knew that the doctor was only saying that they could bring his wife back to make him feel better. She wouldn't survive. He had seen her before they pushed her into the ambulance truck. He wouldn't have been surprised if they said she'd died on her way to the hospital.
Haruku leaned over his son, ignoring the IV drip and heart monitor wires. He wanted to feel warmth from his only living family member. He wanted to make sure that there was still someone else for him in this world.
The man glared at the heart monitor, as if daring it to go flat. He had lost the only two girls he had ever loved. Like hell he was going to lose his only son too.
Giving Ryou as tight a squeeze as he dared, Haruku willed life into his son. "Don't you leave me too," he whispered, kissing the boy's forehead. "I need you now, Ryou, my boy. We need each other."
A/N: Don't even ask where 'Haruku' came from. Random name is random.
I don't really like stories that portray Ryou's father as mean and neglecting. His father is an archaeologist and that requires him to be off digging in Egypt. That's how he makes a living!
This was much less medical than I had been aiming for. Oh well.
Why should I do schoolwork when I could be writing random one-shots like this? Why am I writing random one-shots like this when I should be continuing my chapter stories? Beats me.
Although, I'm growing up; I really should put more priority on my school.