Black Balloon, a yu-gi-oh fanfic

Me: Oh my God I can't believe I'm about to do this… after writing nine freakin' pages of a different plot, which I've spent over a week on, I think I'm going to dash it two days before this fic is due and write a different one-shot. Wow. I can't believe I'm going to do this. Maybe I'll end up finishing both and asking my non-contest-related friend to tell me which one is better. Or maybe both will end up seeing but only one will go for Compy's contest. In any case, I love tendershipping, so after a million gazillon plots, finally settled for one, only to change it to this one! (Possibly.) Let's see how it goes.

Third person POV. Title and story inspired by the song "Black Balloon" –lyrics obviously NOT IN STORY. (I don't want this deleted.) TENDERSHIPPING – this is BakuraxRyou, people. No graphic scenes, but if you're offended by gay pairings, please, don't feel obligated to read. You have been warned.

Note: I have no idea when Amane, Ryou's little sister, really died, so humour me.

Disclaimer: Hikari Daeron does not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or any affiliations. She also does not own "Black Balloon", which is a Goo Goo Dolls song. Red Bull is also not of her creation; it is an energy drink, and it gives you wings. The plaque and gravestone quotes were found online. This work was written exclusively for the aforementioned contest.

Black Balloon

He was spinning round… and around… and around… and around…

"Come play with me, 'Kura."

He was giggling like a child. His delicate shoulders hunched slightly forward, his mouth upturned in a gleeful grin. His long lashes flickered against his pale face as he beckoned for the other to follow.

"Come play with me, 'Kura."

He ran towards the swings and sat on one of them. He propelled himself with his legs. His hair flew behind him and then into his face as slowly he gathered speed. Before long he was soaring, going higher… and higher… and higher…

"Come play with me, 'Kura."

He had jumped off, flying off the object with a surprising swiftness and agility. Nimbly, he climbed the metal rod and launched himself onto the monkey bars. He rocked his body back and forth… back and forth… back and forth…

"Come play with me, 'Kura."

He swung forward, then let go…

Bakura yawned and stretched. He stood, rumpling his hair, letting it cascade past his shoulders in a messy tirade of spikes. Blinking rapidly to try and dispel any last-minute sleepiness, he craned his neck in an effort to hear if anyone else was about the apartment.

Silence greeted his efforts.

The near-albino left his room and walked towards the kitchen. He hunted through the fridge, until finally he settled upon a cold energy drink and the rest of a sandwich he hadn't finished the night before. Munching on the cold turkey-and-bacon, he wandered over to the dry-erase board, to see if there were any messages.

Huh, that's funny. Ryou usually leaves a note before he goes out. Bakura shrugged it off. After all, in the last few weeks, Ryou had been acting stranger and stranger. I wonder if he's feeling well… damn my insane curiosity. Of course, Bakura would attribute it to that, rather than admitting any sort of worry. After all, being granted a temporary corporal body from the gods to see if he was worthy to remain in the human realm after all, Bakura was wholly dependent on the Brit. Without him, he was physically lost and incapable of leading a life in the living realm.

Without him, he was emotionally lost too…

The former spirit walked finished his sandwich before popping open his can of Red Bull – his latest choice in beverage, something Marik had introduced to him some time before – and chugging it down. Wings grown, Bakura grabbed his coat and – in pajama glory and all – decided to go for a walk.

The antagonist and constant pain to reincarnated Pharaoh and friends ignored whatever stares he was sure he was receiving while walking down the street. No one acknowledged him. After all, who would confront a bare-foot, black-clad, white-haired man with pointy hair and teeth?

And what was that stain on his jacket?

Coming down, he stared as his world turned over. Angels may have swooped down, but none saved his falling angel. Slowly, he watched the small body somersault and drop onto the ground. He felt himself draw indifferently near. Suddenly his knees buckled.

What was that?

He was walking away, slowly, slowly, slowly…

The angel lay sprawled on the ground, body broken, a ghost of a smile left on his lips.

Bakura stood in front of the Kame Game Shop. He… did not usually go there, without Ryou. But his other half was not there. The young man who had so captivated his heart and soul, the one he had come back for, was not with him. He felt oddly… lost, without him. Ryou was always leading him along, almost as a child. But Bakura did not feel belittled by such actions. His former host's tender love and care was too remarkable. Who would have thought that they could learn to love the other?

But Ryou was not with him now. Bakura found himself suddenly worried. A lack of note usually meant an emergency…

He walked into the shop, wandering further when he did not see anyone at the counter. Inside the Motou living room sat Yugi and his kingly friend. The reincarnated spirit – cutely dubbed "Yami" as opposed to his powerful name – had his arm around his aibou, who looked upset.

"What's up with the shrimp?" asked Bakura casually, sitting on the couch's arm. Usually he only expressed distain for the couple, but lately, Ryou's kindness had rubbed off on him. "Yo shorty, you okay?"

Yugi jumped upon hearing Bakura's voice. His face was streaked with tears, his violet eyes large and wide. "Ba-Ba-Bakura?" he choked.

Yami's crimson eyes, full of concern, blinked in astonishment before looking around to see what Yugi stared so at avidly. When his eyes focused on his old adversary, he looked visibly startled. "Bakura…" he said carefully. "What – " His voice, usually so calm and collect, caught. He cleared his throat. "What are you doing here?"

Bakura's eyebrows shot together as he frowned. "Apparently I'm not welcome," he said, his voice drawing into a sneer. "Not good enough for Pharaoh, huh? Too high-and-mighty to join the common folk every now and again? And all I showed was concern for your little "partner". How ironic." He turned to leave.

"W-wait!" came Yami's voice, haltingly. "I'm… I apologize. I was just surprised to see you."

Bakura halted at the door. "What are you blathering about?" he asked, turning back. "In case you've failed to realize, Ryou and I always come to bother you. What's so unusual about that?"

Yugi and Yami exchanged a significant glance. Bakura's frustration mounted. "What?!"

"We… didn't think we'd see you for a while, Bakura," came Yugi's quiet voice, treading carefully.

"Well you were wrong, but now you're right!" said the white-haired one, curtly. He had tired of whatever game the Puzzle bearers were playing. "I was just leaving." He was heading out the door when suddenly he remembered something. "Oh, speaking of Ryou, have either of you seen him? He went out this morning when I was asleep and didn't leave a note. I thought he might be with you… obviously I was wrong."

He did not get an answer. Annoyed out of his mind, he turned and was surprised to see that both Yami and Yugi had gone still. Yugi paled so much that his skin matched Bakura's hair. "No," said Yami hoarsely. "We haven't."

He was falling down, away from the sky and the world he knew. He was reaching out towards anything, desperately trying to grab something to slow him down. But there was nothing there, anymore. All of it had disappeared when he wasn't paying attention. He desperately swam through the air only to find that he hadn't moved at all…

A single black balloon. That's all the difference it made. A black balloon, floating away from him, into the endless sea.

Bakura continued his journey on foot, quietly contemplating the whereabouts of his missing hikari. It wasn't a special occasion; otherwise he would have assumed that he would be out shopping for a surprise gift. The fridge was full, so it wasn't an emergency grocery expedition. It was simply a cold autumn day, the first of November, the day known as All Hallow…

Suddenly his eyes, careless before, snapped to attention. Bakura knew the significance of All Hallow in a heartbeat: the death of Amane. Years ago, when Ryou was much younger and living in Britain, his mother and younger sister had died in a car accident. While their graves were in his English hometown, Ryou had dedicated a plaque to his dead relatives when he realized that Domino would become his permanent home. Every year, Ryou commemorated the deaths by taking flowers to the site and staying there for a large part of the day.

Bakura… hadn't approved of this, at first. When he was still bound to the Millennium Ring, he had cruelly snatched away this tradition from Ryou, in order to fulfill his own selfish needs. In fact, the first time he had appeared to Ryou was not more than two weeks before the anniversary. Ryou had been so caught-up in the whole affair that he had not properly paid tribute to his sister and mother for years…

The ancient spirit knew better, now. Bakura had learned to love and cherish Ryou more than any other person. To deny this to him would so thoroughly wound his former host that their relationship would never be the same again. And Bakura so desperately needed the boy…

A plaque, a simple dedication to the memories of two lost souls. A shadowy figure in the distance. Bakura approached the scene hesitantly. Was that Ryou?

Double headstones, one on either side…

He tried to grab it. That black balloon was the only thing that could save him now. He desperately kicked up, hoping anything would slow his fall enough for the balloon to float down to him. He knew it was futile, but…

Shakespeare had once said that the miserable have no medicine but hope. Thus he was sick with misery, and it was all he could do to pray that he'd reach it. He was so close, just…

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.

Not even you, Bakura… not even you can steal the memories of love.

Bakura tread lightly. He did not want to disturb those resting there. Yes, former Tomb Robber he was, but he had great respect for the dead nonetheless. After all, was it not his village that was burnt to the ground, its 99 thieves killed as he watched?

The dead came back to haunt him…

His eyes trailed from the simple line on the plaque to a dusty grave right beside it. He had passed this site many times before, constantly staring, without ever telling Ryou that he had coming. He had never seen this grave before. He bent, and, after dusting it off, read the epitaph.

When it is dark enough, you can see the stars.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the line. Wha –

The name caught his eye, and he froze, eyes wide.

He was spinning round… and around… and around… and around…

"Come play with me, 'Kura."

He swung forward, then let go…

"Ryou!"

He ran towards the other with lightening speed, grabbing onto him and protected him with his own body. He flew forwards, his momentum propelling him pass the confines outlined in plastics. Immediately outside the boundaries was a tree. His head smashed into it and he toppled forwards, neck snapping forwards with alarming precision. A sickening smack was heard against plastic and woodchips.

He lay still.

"Bakura?"

He knew that voice. That soft, sweet, angelic voice had guided him for so long. But he was frozen, staring at the name in front of him.

"Ryou?" he croaked. "Are you… am I…"

"It was an accident, 'Kura," said the other softly. "I slipped in the park. You… reacted instinctually. The gods gave you your Shadow powers back for that instant, to see how you'd react. You – you used them, without knowing. The force of such power made the injuries you sustained much worse and – " His voice choked into silence.

Bakura touched his jacket, softly. It was stained red. "Yours?"

"Yours. From your forehead and cheek." His voice had gone husky, but otherwise, it was steady.

He placed a hand on his neck. "Broken," murmured the other. "Snapped back."

"And you…?"

"I was fine."

"Was?"

"Bakura, I lost you. I can never be fine again."

Bakura turned back. Ryou stood behind him, tears in those full, chocolate brown eyes of his. His lashes flickered.

Bakura stood and walked to the other boy. He caressed the back of his neck before gently pressing his lips to Ryou's pale pink ones. Drawing back, he whispered, "How long?"

"A year ago today."

"And have been here…?"

"Ever since."

Bakura gripped Ryou's shadowy hand. He traced a crescent-shaped scar. "And when did you…?"

"Three weeks ago. I… The gods said that they would force you to come back after a year. I didn't think I could handle never seeing you again."

He exhaled slowly. "Ryou, you – "

"I know. I don't regret it."

"But…"

He placed a hand over Bakura's fading lips. "It's okay. We'll never be separated again." He motioned towards the graves behind him.

Bakura glanced back. On either side of the plaque commemorating the Amane and her mother were two graves: one gathering dust, one fresh. Each bore the same quote.

When it is dark enough, you can see the stars…

Bakura's eyes traced the gravestones before turning back, eyes locking on Ryou's vanishing ones. He couldn't help it: he smiled. It was a soft, genuine expression, one that never saw his face again.

Finally, he drew closer. Somehow, his efforts seemed to propel him forwards, until he was close enough to grab on…

He struggled, for a bit. His fingertips brushed the string as he fumbled, trying to hold on. He worked his fingers until they were numb, and yet still he did not grasp the ribbon in his fingers.

Taking a deep breath, he lunged forward…

Together, two hands nimbly caught the black balloon.