Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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"I hate Amane Bakura".
Those were the first words engraved by a young Ryou into the baby blue parchment. A dairy,a Christmas gift from his teachers. Probably wanted him to calm his boiling emotions by spilling them out on paper. He knew that and also that it wouldn't work.
That of course,was one of the seven year old Ryou's many original works and some what of a classic. He stuck with that philosophy so much that it seemed to rule his life. So much writing, his words consumed the pages of the small book like a fire,never satisfied. He once thought that all the books in the world could never dream to scratch the surface of his hate,yet somehow those four words were all he needed to say,but he just never said it. He acted like a drunken poet,expressing his feelings in poetry and detailed reports and essays. He carved those words down so roughly,almost as though the manifestation of his hate,the monster inside this young boy wrote them with its long black gleaming claws. It became like a curse,it became his obsession.
Though those words fell fruitlessly from pen to paper,he discovered a hidden talent of his. Funny,like finding gold in a dry mine. Every writing assignment was aced,every report an A+ with a little smiling face in the upper right corner.
But that all ment nothing to Ryou,because Amane got the Sasuke Uchiha figure that Ryou had been asking for since last year.
And all he got was some crummy blue diary.
Ah,envy sure is a terrible thing,the makings of a demon,I might say. But then again,so is favoritism.
Yes,Amane was the favorated adorable dream child and yes,Ryou knew why.
While being just minutes apart in birth and a mole(Or beauty spot)apart in physical appearance, the two couldn't have been more opposite.
Amane Bakura. A lovable person and a spirited young girl. Great personality and a great smile. Someone every girl wished to be and every boy wished to be with. She aced every subject with flying colors and her grades clung to the top of the chart but she didn't have enough patience or the artistic touch to beat her brother in a battle of words. But who cares about writing when your good at sports and everyone wants to be your friend. When your smart and funny courageous, who needs some pretty words with rhythm.
If you have Amane,who needs Ryou. One can't compare to the other and one certainly doesn't belong.
His evening hours always waisted away with her company. Frivolous shopping trips and mindless clothing choices. Make up that she'd look better without and cute dresses way to mature for her. He'd never miss a chance to insyult her looks and tastes in clothing. He'd look back on that and wonder if that's why she took those extra hours looking in the mirror. And also if those words would be better spent telling her that she didn't need all those products and that she had a face just as pretty as any of those dolls she lived so much.
Ryou Bakura. A messy haired brat with a sweet tooth and a taste for cream. Though he could fill fifty books with just hate,nothing he said interested anyone. He didn't know how to please people or how to make friends. He didn't know how not hurt those around.
Worst of all,he wished he did.
School was a psychward and he just one of its many patients. He talked to no one and no one talked to him. That is,everyone except Amane.
Amane,every patronizing,ever laughing,ever smiling.
He hated it. He hated her. He hated how she was always there.
In his mothers arms,she was by his side.
When he awoke in the morning, she was their to greet him.
His evening hours always waisted away with her company. Frivolous shopping trips and mindless clothing choices. She had many dolls but he was the most used.
Even at night,she sat by him at the dinner table. They did homework side by side,offering to help him at every known chance. When he slept,she was just three feet away from his bed.
Through the schools,through the grades,all the same classes,side by side at the lunch table.
He never had a moments peace with her and her cheesy jokes and deranged laughter ringing in his ear because...
She was always there.
Side by side. Hand in hand. Through rain,sleet,hail. Always there. Through bad and good. Whether he liked it or not. Constant. Didn't that make her his friend?
He'd never say it before but yes,that's exactly what she was.
A dear friend he had betrayed all the time he knew her and in that one moment she needed him most...
A cursed moment like an eternity. They day she wasn' .there.
...
It was thier birthday. Nine years together and he'd finally had enough. Sick and tired of all her nonsense,he struck her. All for just inviting a few of her friends to the party. All for just ordering him around. All for laughing at his bed head. All for teasing him. All for nothing.
Finally, the truth came out and he told her just how much he hated her.
He remembered that day. He rermembered the rain and how it streaked the window just like the tears on her cheeks. He remembered not feeling a thing when she ran out of the room. He remembered his heart beat quickening as his blood pumped through his veins rapidly. How it surprised him to see her like that because he had always thought of her as a cold heartless witch. He just sat at the foot of his bed,feeling neither sad nor happy.
Neither free nor traped,just empty. Almost as though all he was was a meaning less childish tantrum.
She was crying,so thier parents did the only thing they knew how to do in the situation. They comforted her.
Ice cream. Not the store bought kind,soft serve from the local fast food places. White as snow,like her hair. She and mum were going while dad stayed to find a punishment for Ryou.
He should have apologized. Maybe he could have stopped her. Or he could even have gone with her. If only he wasn't so stubborn. If only he knew what he was going to loose.
It was just a couple of miles up from their house,it didn't take a journey to get there and they'd only be there for a few hours. Just long enough to get him thinking about his actions. He ment what he said,or so he thought. He never really grasped the true meaning of the word "Hate". Wanting her to die? Did he want that? No. He didn't think he cared,though. She ment nothing to him. Just his bothersome older twin sister...Right? The truth is,he didn't understand the true horror and evil of that wretched word at all. He just let it fly mindlessly from his lips,knowing it ment something but not what. Was he right in telling her how he felt? Did she need to know? Did it help anything? He wanted to say yes to every one of those questions but he knew he could never do that and he didn't know exactly why. He was just a stupid kid who didn't know a single bloody thing.
Then it happened.
He didn't notice at first but a lot of hours had passed,one by one like dominos just like his heart beat,counting down to something horrid. After the seventh hour,even the stone cold Ryou had started to get worried. Father was already pacing frantically, calling his sitter. He made no effort to comfort Ryou's growing paranoia, and he took no offense to that. He knew why his father hated him,he brought it upon himself.
When the Baby sitter came,he was out the door in a flash. He noticed the return of his nail biting habit. Funny,it only seemed to show up with sudden job emergencies. Molly,his sitter,was different this time. She turned on the telly and just let it sit on one child friendly channel. Then she retreated to the kitchen were she promised to return with a bucket of popcorn and drinks and a suprise she knew he liked.
Molly had watched over him and Amane for three years,never once was she so squirrelly. She was always so strict and never let them get away with anything. She was so cool,like a second sister,his teacher and friend. Normally he'd love a change like this but under the circumstances, this was living nightmare.
This was an illusion,hiding a truth so terrible,like a wolf hiding among the bushes. He couldn't shake the feeling it was all his fault. Were were his parents? Were was Amane?
At this point he knew he was shaking. He though they must have gotten lost,or maybe they had won some prize at that place. Maybe they were staying at a hotel room and having their own birthday party there. Surely not...There had to be a better explanation. He continued to shove handfuls of popcorn in his mouth with Molly at his side,laughing at the shows he knew she didn't find funny. The popcorn didn't taste bad he wanted nothing more than to throw up the contents of his stomach,along with the pit of fear growing in his chest. He just wanted Amane's genuine laughter back and his mother to come home,telling him it was all going to be alright. They always knew when he was scared. This time he really needed them.
As much as he tried to ignore it,he knew something had happened. He didn't believe that twins had special powers but he had felt something he couldn't deny. The skip of a heart beat. The shock,the fear.
What was sad was,he gathered a list of things he found funny or interesting. Things he wanted to tell Amane when she came home. That is,after a thorough apology. He started to think about how to say that,to. He wanted to tell her these things really badly and for a moment,he forgot.
A day had passed. No news.
He didn't like being alone. The peace wasn't sweet like he thought it would be. It was like a silent scream ringing in his ears,choking him from the inside out. Molly slept in his room that night. She tried to put a positive spin on it,saying it was like a sleep over. But he knew she knew what had happened and it sure was no secret that she cried herself to sleep that night.
He had a dream that night,that Amane came back. Same outfit since he'd last seen here except she wore a crimson party hat. She happily told the tales of her many adventures that involved waterslides and chocolate cake, almost aslo she had forgotten about the whole 'Hate' ordeal all together. Ryou was about to breath a sigh of relief and calm his nerves when suddenly Amane whispered silently in his ear:
"How does it feel to be alone"
"Amane-!?"
"Does it feel nice? Are you happy now that I'm gone?"
And with that,she fell to the floor,dead. Her face paled,her hand cold. Her eyes dead,her body pulsless,her life gone.
He woke up with a jolt that morning,but the nightmare he never escaped.
Early that morning his father's work friend, Satsuki,came to tell him the truth. Being a man with a child of his own,he tried to sugar coat it but Ryou wasn't that stupid. But really,how do you sugar coat something so bitter? There was a collision. A diesel truck lost control and rammed it on it's left side,instantly crushing and killing Amane by factures to the skull,spine and ribcage. Her body was thrown into the road. The car flipped multiple times and burst into flames. If it wasn't the fire that killed his mother,it would be the pieces of broken metal that decapitated and impaled her body. In Satsuki-san's words,"There was an accident. Your mother and sister went somewhere and you won't be seeing them anymore. I'm so sorry".
For a moment,he was angry at Satsuki,then the fragility of cars and human lives,then the driver,then his mother and Amane for dying and then he finally correctly placed the blame. Why did they go out for ice cream? Who made Amane cry?
Oh Amane.
Oh Amane,I'm sorry.
Oh no,Amane.
What have I done?
His breath quickened under an already heavy chest,the pit of fear opened it's jaws and swallowed him up. Why couldn't he just do what she wanted? Why couldn't he just invite her friends? Why couldn't he just keep his mouth shut?
That night,he opened up a world he'd left behind. This was His final goodbye.
The little blue diary,a grave for the unborn words better left unsaid. Just a small blue book in a box under his bed. It lay there like a monster waiting for him to let his gaurds- down. He should have known that it isn't the green slime ball with fangs that should be feared. The true monster is you. Your own foolish and shortsightedness will blind you and turn you into an uncaring and heartless monster.
But he wasn't going to let that creature control him any longer even if it took complete denial of himself to keep far away from it's manipulation. He matured that day. He was no longer the selfish child he was yesterday.
This was the last time he'd put pen to that sky blue parchment.
Erase."I Don't hate Amane."
No,not good enough. Erase."I love Amane."
Not enough. Erase."I miss Amane."
Rain poured from his eyes as he realized how weak these words were. Erase. "I miss Amane A lot".
Why won't it erase. Erase. I beg you. Erase. Erase. Erase."Please come back,Amane."
She died that day knowing he hated her and she probably hated him. Absolutely nothing could change that. Even if it was all a bunch of lies.
The pen tore holes in the soaked specks of the paper,as though putting out the fire that once consumed the pages mightily. Were did that strength go? Why did he feel so small? So powerless. He couldn't watch anymore. He griped his aching head as tears continued to poor from his fingers.
When he saw how little his words ment now,he was overcome and overwhelmed with a powerful sadness. It all of a sudden became to real. He wanted Mother. She'd scoop him up and tell him he could never have known and that they forgave him and make him feel so safe as she held him close. Then Amane...
Oh Amane. Sobbing turned to wailing. Poor poor Amane...
She'd tease him endlessly,calling him a baby. She'd poke him anud tell him how only girls cry. Then she'd pull his hair and tickle him,she'd do everything in her power to make him angry and forget the pain and He'd feel so much better. He'd of taken a sign that they were there,that they were okay,anything. He had never felt such desperation.
He cried himself to sleep that night.
He should have treated her better. He should have told her how much he loved her and thanked her for being his friend for all those years because no one else ever was going to be. That she was pretty and that she was smart and brilliant. That he was sorry for ridiculing her and her things all the time. That she was a greast person and that he was lucky to have her as a sister. He should have told her not to go out for ice cream because it is bad for your health.
He learned the hard way that hate only leads to regret and words never spoken. He couldn't let himself go through that again. He couldn't let himself have poor feelings for anyone ever again. This time,he was going to change. If it wasn't true than he was going to use his way with lies deceive himself into thinking it was so,just like he did with Amane. Never again would he associate with his inner monsters.
The funeral was a week afterwards. The bodies were being prepared for cremation.
Amane's lifeless body was clad in a black dress coat with a her favorite flower in the breastpocket and a pleated skirt that reached her knees. It's pattern was an abstract ty die painting he saw in a book once,a picture made purely of squares and squares inside squares. Her face was like a doll,her hair brushed and her skin was clean.
There was a large box that lay beside Amane. To his horror,he assumed that to be his mother or what ever was left of her.
This was also the first time Ryou allowed himself to cry in front of others. He'd cry at every lone chance but this time,he let his father see his tears. Some part of the shame withheld him from doings so before,but now the thought of never seeing the face of his mother or his sister ever again was to much. Somehow,letting them close that door seemed like the real end to them. When they were here,he could hold on to those memories and pretend they were still there. As much as he knew it was no use,he didn't want to let go of her hand even if it was cold as ice.
For a few moments he thought hateful and violent thought about all her so called "friends" she had at school. Were were they now? Finding new friends? Had they already accepted it and moved on? Did they never care for her in the first place?
And then he looked into his sister's face and remembered the biggest mistake he had ever made. The promise he had made to himself rang clear in his ears as all his hatred disappeared into the abyss were all the reasons he had for living had went as well.
They were both fools,murderers and liars. Maybe they'd be friends. Not like he cared.
"Please...Wake up...Please wake up,Amane." He must have looked like a fool to them but he didn't care. This was his last chance"I didn't mean to make you cry,you know. I really didn't. Just please know that not a word I said was true. I don't hate you. I don't hate you at all. So you... you gotta...wake up...They're gonna turn you to ash aaa...And ruin your clothing that you care for so much and... And you never... Your never gonna get that outfit-Hic- That outfit you wanted so much so you gotta wake up! There's still-! Hic- So much you still have ta do...Please wake up...Hic...". He almost aced as though her body was a house that she left temporarily but would return to at any moment. As long as she was here,there was still a slight possibility in his head that he could have her back.
Then,through a storm of a migraine and tears,he saw something he shouldn't have. He was not really sure how or why he spotted it at a time like this but he did. Stitching,like spiders crawling up his sister's arm. The sight must have been to horrifying that his mother was a closed casket but they did the best they could with Amane to make it seem as though that incident never happened. Unfortunately, it wasn't perfect.
He jumped back and released her as though burnt. This wasn't his sister,just a shell. Not really her face. Not really Amane. Just here to torment him. Ryou felt the contents of his stomach rise up in his throat.
That only proved to Ryou that he couldn't keep holding on forever and that he had to let go.
When he felt his back hit the wall,his father gave him a look he'd never seen before. Then he nodded to a man in the corner who then proceeded towards the table in which the to bodies lay upon in eternal slumber. Ryou knew what that ment.
His body acted on his own,his emotions taking over.
The solemn man dressed in black was just a few feet away,so with the remaining time he had,he rushed to the bodies one more time,laying a kiss upon his mother's casket and his sister's cold cheek and breathed a goodbye and a "I love you" to both. Then his father pulled him by his shoulder to his side. He resisted him at first but then he gave in,breathing heavily.
He didn't watch when the fires consumed them. He chose to comfort himself with lies like "They are alive in your memories" and "They are going to a better place" like everyone else. Lies again. That's what he was good for,right. Honestly,he thought that those who believed that rubbish were the real fools. But,sadly they relieved him of just a little pain.
On the silent drive home,Ryou wiped away one last tear and breathed a sigh of relief.
The truth is before his father pulled him away,he did the only thing he thought could be done. He slipped into Amane's coat pocket the last bit of truth he had left. That little blue diary. But not the same book he knew before. He fixed it,now it was full of truth and apologies, millions of compliments and all the things he had forgotten to tell her. It went with her,it's ashes mingled with her's forever. Those words with her. That thought brought him,even if it was small,the slightest bit of hope that were ever she was now,she was reading that right now and excepting his apology. In a metal jar on his lap with their mother by their side.
He wasn't going to burden anyone this time.
This time,he kept himself far away from that dark pit. He didn't think about the pain,he just kept on moving. Everyone would always pass by him and asked "Are you okay?". Even if he wasn't,He'd nod and smile. His sadness didn't matter,his pain and anger didn't matter,his heart was little more than dirt. He'd be useful at every opertunity,dancing on the thin line he called his sanity. Maybe he'd find friends,maybe he wouldn't but it didn't matter because no one was as good a friend as Amane and he killed her. So he didn't deserve friends and he certainly didn't deserve to indulge his pain. If he just kept dodging the bullets, he knew he'd be alright. He just had to keep the act up. He didn't think himself strong,because if he was,this wouldn't be all one big act.
The silence was hard to deal with. Suddenly everything lacked color. Suddenly no one was there. No one was ever there anymore. When that overwhelming loneliness chewed of little bits of his stone cold heart,he turned to the only thing he could do. Lie to himself with letters to the dead.
Over the years,he developed a habit. He knew the knowledge of it would cause people to shun him from society, so he kept it secret. Yes,he knew it was ridiculous, but talking to someone made him feel better. Every night,he wrote a letter to Amane. A page long or so,filled with his thoughts and feelings and conversation starters. Just conversations two siblings would have,then he'd burn it and put the ashes into the pot. The one he never threw away.
When they got home from the funeral,Father dumped mother into a hole in the backyard,but Ryou was never quite sure what to do with Amane's ashes. So she sat thier,on his night stand. Always there,through nights,days and evenings. Always listening,sitting by a smiling picture of her. Through the years and the grades,always there when he slept,just like before.
Honestly,he had absolutely no intention of getting rid of it.
...