Title: Tenshi

Disclaimer: I own nothing! :Runs away sobbing:

Ok guys, since I love angsty stories, I've decided to attempt one. Read it and tell me what you think. Thanks =) Oh and just to let you know, Ushio IS real character from the canceled series of Yu-Gi-Oh

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A young woman with snow-white locks held a small boy who distinctly resembled her. The thunder thrashed violently and lightning flashed, lighting up the dark room. The tiny boy whimpered, curling up against his mother even closer, clutching tightly to her sleeves, hiding himself in his mother's arms.

"Shh...shh...It's ok. tenshi." The woman whispered softly. Her light voice blocked out the thunder, and slowly, the child's eyelids began to droop, breathing peacefully against his mother's chest. Slowly, the woman stood, and placed Ryou back into his bed, covering up the child and touching her lips against his forehead. She walked out of the room, closing it quietly behind her, and suddenly gasped, holding onto the wall for support and choking out a thick dark substance. She held a hand up to her face, faintly recognizing it as blood before she collapsed into a heap.

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"Well, wimp? You realize it's dues day don't you?" A bully sneered.

"S-sorry, I forgot." Ryou stuttered.

It was true. Ryou had woken up late, stumbled down the stairs, and grabbed his book bag, raced out the door just in time to see the bus driving off. He ran all the way to school, breathless by the time he was there, not to mention late.

The bully rolled his eyes. "Well you know, you gotta pay your dues to live. And since you don't got 'em, guess you don't have the privilege of living anymore."

The bully advanced as Ryou stood there and winced. He knew what was coming, what always came, regardless if he had paid "dues" or not.

"Beat him up real good, boss!" A guy cackled from behind. Ryou swallowed.

"Please...don't." Ryou whispered. His previous wounds, though hidden, were nowhere near healed. The bully didn't seem to hear and even if he had, he wouldn't have cared. Ryou squeezed his eyes shut. With one punch in the chest, Ryou stumbled backwards, losing his balance and falling down clumsily.

Pairs of eyes looked on with pity, yet no one dared to interfere with Ushio and his flunkies.

"This is like the fifth time this week Ryou has been beaten up." A kid whispered to the person next to him. Others shook their head sadly. "It's because he doesn't defend himself. He might as well be Ushio's personal punching bag."

Ushio pulled out a knife.

"Enough." He said to his followers. The other bullies ceased their kicking, spitting and cursing and stood aside. Ushio walked towards Ryou again. Bending down and leaning closely to Ryou's face, he said in a low, mocking tone, "Don't forget again." He swiftly slashed Ryou's chest with the small blade of the knife, causing him to cry out slightly. With a grin, Ushio rose and began to walk away.

Several students rushed forward to help Ryou stand, who was clutching on to his fresh wound.

"Leave him." Ushio said walking away. "No one helps him. Unless if you happen to be a masochist." With a harsh laugh, the rest of the gang followed Ushio out of the school grounds.

Each student looked down at the ground, ashamed as they walked away, heavy with guilt. "Sorry, Ryou." They all said quietly before disappearing elsewhere.

The pain in Ryou's chest was burning hotly. Gasping, Ryou clung onto the wired fence and tried to stand. He proceeded to take a step, but his legs gave way and he fell once again.

"Ryou!" A voice cried. Ryou's head snapped towards the direction of the voice. A voice, warm and concerned, something he heard rarely. Yuugi ran towards Ryou.

"Ryou! What happened?"

Ryou shook his head. "N-nothing. I'm ok Yuugi."

"You call a bleeding chest and bruises OK?" Yuugi quickly helped Ryou up, letting him lean against him. "It's Ushio isn't it?" Yuugi said. Ryou only looked down. "Ryou, you can't let people do that to you! You have to stand up for yourself! Ushio's bullied me too you know. Yami punished him, but it seems like he forgot his lesson already." Yuugi made a face.

As they neared Ryou's house, Ryou pulled away from Yuugi. "Thanks." His voice cracked.

"Are you sure you'll be ok?" Yuugi asked. Ryou nodded. "Ok, but if you need help, just call, Yami and I will help you." He paused to glance at his watch, eyebrows rising up in surprise at the time. "Woa, I really gotta run! See you, Ryou!"

Ryou opened the door to his house and limped in. He tossed his book bag into a corner somewhere and dropped down to the ground in fatigue. His labored breathing seemed to be the only thing that filled the silence of the house. Ryou looked around, used to the dimness of his home. It was mostly space. No clothes or objects strewn all over the place. Nothing but emptiness, exactly how Ryou felt.

He was used to this scenario by now. Coming home, beaten and worn, feeling downright worthless, bruised and wounded. Painfully, he tramped up the stairs, pausing every few moments to breathe. Reaching the bathroom sink, he slowly removed his shirt which had a slash through it.

'I guess I won't be wearing this anymore.' Ryou thought as he tossed it into the trashcan. Reaching into a medicine cabinet, he pulled out some gauze and medicine bottles. He winced as the sharp pain of the alcohol bit him in the raw flesh. He reluctantly ran the gauze down his cut, whimpering as it stung. He pulled out a strip of cloth and wrapped it around his chest. Ryou suddenly slumped down onto the floor, staring at the ground in shame, refusing to let the tears fall.

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"Ryou?"

Ryou sat in his room, silently reading a book. Had he just imagined someone calling his name? He shook his head fiercely. No, no one ever cared for him, no one was even around. However, he couldn't help but wonder.

Maybe I've lost it. Ryou cynically thought.

Feeling stupid, he crept towards the door and opened it.

"Ryou?" The voice came again. Ryou instantly recognized the voice.

"Dad?" His father was never home. He had been crushed the day Ryou's mother died. However, he tried his best to hide his grief and occupied himself with extensive archaeological digs, coming home only once every few months to check on Ryou. He was no longer sociable and rarely expressed any trace of emotion. It was as if the only thing that kept him alive was his feelings of obligation towards the duty of a father.

"I brought something from one of my digs." His father replied. He reached into his pack and pulled something out. "Just a little trinket for you to keep."

Ryou's eyes widened, receiving the golden ring shaped item. "Wouldn't you want to study something like this?"

His father shook his head. "No, I never told anyone about it. It felt as if it belonged to you."

Ryou looked up, confused. His father handed him an envelope with money, as usual, and walked out without further explanation.

Ryou sighed as he slowly walked back up to his room, studying the ring. It was a pretty golden thing hung on a thin chain with an upside down triangle and an eye in the middle. On the bottom hung five pointers. He ran his fingers briefly over the eye.

"Hi." Ryou said quietly. "Guess you get to see my pathetic life from now on." He laughed a little, bitterly. "Good lord, I've completely lost it." Ryou muttered as he realized that he was talking to an artifact.

He set it down on the table and thought no more of it.

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The next morning, Ryou woke with painful shocks running through his body. Groaning, he slowly pushed himself off of the bed. He quickly ran a hand through his hair, smoothing out its tangled strands. He didn't bother to check himself in a mirror. He never did. In fact, he hated mirrors and had destroyed every one in the house. His father had told him that he looked just like his mother. After looking in one, Ryou could see the resemblance as well. Except he was nothing like his mother. She was strong-willed and graceful. He was weak-willed and a wimp. His mother was lovely. He thought of himself as revolting. And he hated his mother for leaving him.

'She said she would never leave me.' He thought acrimoniously. Now he rarely thought about his mother. He didn't like being reminded of her.

He left the silent house for school.

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"Where am I?" Bakura rubbed his head, sprawled awkwardly on the floor of Ryou's bedroom. He frowned. "I was just sleeping in the Ring." His eyes widened as he realized his surroundings. "Could it be that the ring has passed on to a user?" Slowly, he helped himself up.

Bakura hadn't liked his previous hikari. He was a whiny, stuck up brat. The first thing the little brat did was slap Bakura and yell out defiantly, "You are now my servant!" But Bakura had put the little whore in his place. He smirked slightly at the memory of killing off the spoiled boy.

He gripped his hands tightly. He would kill this hikari too, if he had too. He lived to serve no one.

Bakura decided to explore the new settings. Perhaps he would meet his hikari. He opened the door, which protested slightly with a creak. Bakura jumped. Then he shook his head and continued on. The house was eerily empty. Bakura had thought. He came to the conclusion that there was no one home, and it seemed as if the house had rarely been lived in, save the bedroom he first appeared in.

Suddenly, interest came over him as he began to wonder what he looked like. He knew that he would look something like his hikari, perhaps that would give him an idea of what his hikari looked like. He walked around, looking for a mirror, only to find none.

"What kind of a house doesn't have mirrors?" he scowled. So he did the next best thing. He looked down at his hands. They were pale, thin and soft, almost like a child's hand. He reached up and touched his face, which met his hands with equal smoothness. It was as if he was touching a piece of purity himself. Lastly, he tugged on a strand of white hair, pulling it close to his eyes to examine it. It was a thin, almost silver kind of hair. Bakura was utterly surprised. 'This human,' Bakura thought, and could find no words to speak.

After hours of loitering around, he had discovered that the person who lived here kept several medical kits and bottles. The bright sight of blood in the trash can also caught his eyes. Did this person have some sort of medical condition? He had also went back into Ryou's room, flipping through drawers, looking under things, opening closets. He had found a small, neglected album under his bed and looked through it, finding pictures and pictures of a young, white haired woman. Who could this be? Bakura thought, a bit confused. Suddenly, a crash could be heard as the front door opened. Bakura hastily shoved the album back under the bed and hid among the shadows, which wasn't too hard considering the fact that every inch of the house seemed to live in shadows.

More thumping could be heard and curiosity got the better of Bakura. Silently, Bakura slipped out past the door to see a huddled form, struggling to climb up the stairs, trailing drops of blood. What was going on? As Ryou reached the top of the stairs, he swept away locks of silver hair from his face and looked up to see something he never expected to see. Bakura gasped inwardly and his eyes widened as he locked eyes with the albino beauty. The same thought ran through the two of their minds.

'An angel?' They both thought. Bakura could feel pity for the pathetic boy, tugging at his heart. He could do nothing but stare at the angel's wide, innocent eyes, where distress and sadness seemed to be permanently fixed. Ryou's vision grew faint but he fought to keep the white haired person in sight.

"Mother?" He whispered, trembling. Ryou reached out a hand helplessly to the angel-like creature. He looked a lot like his mother. For the first time, he allowed hot tears to spring from his eyes and fall freely down his face. Suddenly, his vision grew black.

Bakura leapt to catch the boy, who seemed to have fainted from the loss of blood and an overflow of emotions. Slowly, Bakura carried the boy into the bathroom and decided to make an attempt at using the medical items he had found in the cabinets. Bakura reluctantly pulled of Ryou's shirt, not wanting to cause discomfort or intrude on privacy. But the ugly gnash on his chest needed tending. Bakura examined it for a while. The wound didn't seem very fresh, but it was reopened. Black, blue and purple bruises occupied on Ryou's frail body. Bakura winced as he found more wounds, some old, some new, some deep, and some shallow. The boy would end up having a lot of scars, Bakura thought.

After cleaning Ryou up, Bakura carried him back into the bedroom and laid him down on the soft bed, pulling the covers over him. Bakura sat down on the floor by the sleeping Ryou and looked closely at him. This must be my hikari. Bakura mused. He was beautiful, nothing like his previous one. A glow of purity seemed to encase Ryou, rendering Bakura afraid to touch Ryou, in fear of breaking the holy barrier. Bakura brushed away the silver locks that rested on his face and studied the expression on the boy. Even in his sleep, Ryou seemed to be living in a hellish nightmare. The troubled look on his and occasional whimper concerned Bakura.

He wondered what kind of a life his hikari lived. Slowly, he lifted a finger and touched Ryou gently on the cheek; half expecting that his sinful finger would melt upon contact. It didn't. Letting out a small sigh, Bakura leaned back against the bed and drifted off into sleep.

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Ryou awoke with a yelp, startling Bakura who quickly leapt up, into a stance of defense. Bakura relaxed after realizing it was just Ryou who had woken up. Bakura stepped towards the frightened child.

"Who are you?" Ryou whispered. 'He looks like me.' Ryou thought. "Please, go away." Ryou begged. He didn't want to be reminded of himself in any way.

Bakura shook his head sadly and finally sat down by the boy who had scrambled towards the edge. He peered into Ryou's soulful eyes, captivated by the depth they held. Slowly, he extended his arms. Ryou stayed frozen. Bakura captured Ryou in an embrace, and held him against his chest. Ryou began to feel something. It was numb at first, but it slowly sharpened. Something he hadn't felt in years. It seemed so strange, yet so comforting and somewhat nostalgic. Ryou nestled into the warm embrace, feeling protected and...loved? Bakura smiled slightly. He wasn't sure why he did that. He had seemed to read the longing in his eyes. The wretched creature was torn from the inside. Bakura could feel it. He wondered how so much damage and internal pain could be instilled in such an innocent child. And why the boy hadn't became insane yet.

I will mend your pain. I promise. Bakura silently vowed.

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What do you think? Feedback would be nice =)

Update 8/10/03: After looking at this story again (after like 4 months -- '') I decided that this will just stay be one shot. It works that way too right?! Even though it was intended to be a chapter fic.but that's ok!

Update 8/06/04: I've been wanting to edit all my fics for the longest time but I never got around to doing it. Today I managed to work through this one, fixing certain things here and there that bothered me. You might notice the changes, you might not. Either way it doesn't matter, as long as I'm happy. =)