Summary: Death. Death was all around him. The only person that had ever
cared for him was now dead, and he himself was beginning to see people that
were supposedly dead. Is insanity finally taking over, or is there
something more at work?
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to YGO nor do I claim to.
Bakura = Ryou
Yami Bakura = Bakura
This story will eventually contain Shonen Ai, don't like? DON'T READ!
-Blah- Emphasized words
"Blah" Speaking
'Blah' Thoughts
*~*~~*~* Scene Change
*~*Flashback or Dream*~*
*~*~~*~~~*~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~*~~*~*
Amber Skies
*~*~~*~~~*~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~*~~*~*
He was detached from the world around him. The many faces of his family were blurred, and his hearing was muffled. Ryou hadn't moved from his spot next to the wall for a solid two hours, and he wasn't planning on ever moving again. After all, why go on living when the only person that really ever cared for you was dead? Why go on with life if your twin brother was gone, the other half of your soul?
Ryou didn't have to look up to know that his father was staring down at him with an intensity that could burn. His father blamed him for the death of his brother; blamed him for an accident that no one held blame for. Who can be blamed for an accident? The gods, yourself? Who? Ryou wanted to know why Bakura had been killed in the accident on the dig. He wanted to know why it hadn't been -him- to die. Bakura was the calm one. He was the one that you could always go to for answers; Ryou had admired his twin at all times for the things that he did. Even if he was cold and stoic to everyone but Ryou and his best friend Malik, Ryou felt as though he should have been the one to be in that tunnel.
"You need to eat, Ryou." The words were emotionless, as though James, Ryou's father, was talking to a wall.
Ryou didn't lift his head. He merely nodded and resumed his constant stare at the wall before him. Images blurred across his glassy eyes, and in reality he appeared to be as dead as his brother was.
The services didn't last long, and before Ryou could comprehend what was going on, he was standing on the front porch of the house that he lived in with his father and his brother. He placed his hand on the doorknob and followed his father into the house. His father was no where in sight inside the dark living room, and Ryou figured that he was up in his room.
Out of habit, Ryou knocked on Bakura's door three times as he walked past it, on his way to his room. When he didn't get the answering two knocks, it finally hit Ryou. Bakura was gone forever. Ryou placed his hands on the door, and leaned his forehead against it before opening the room. It was as messy as it was before they left for Egypt. Papers were strewn about the desk, and Bakura's college uniform was tossed into the corner. The bed was unmade, and the red pulled back covers revealed black satin sheets.
Tears started to form in Ryou's deep chocolate eyes, and his throat was constricted as he moved into the room. He touched the papers on the desk gently before going over to the bed and sitting on it. He pushed back the cool sheets a little more before curling up on the bed and crying into the late hours of the night.
*~*~~*~*
*~* Ryou was standing in the middle of what appeared to be a vast hallway with hundreds of doors lining both sides. People were walking back and forth between the doors; some were disappearing in a bright flash of white light, while others were going from door to door as though they were looking for something or someone. Ryou looked around for a moment, before opening his mouth to ask a passerby what was going on. No sound emerged from his open lips. He closed his mouth and looked around him once again.
Something to his left caught his eye. Long, silvery hair was tumbling down the back of a thin-framed body. Ryou tried to call Bakura, for deep in his heart he knew it was his brother, and struggled to push through the swarm of people walking through the hallway. Ryou reached out, tried to grab ahold of Bakura's shirt, and stumbled back into reality *~*
Ryou woke with a start, his heart was racing and sweat had been pouring down his face. Looking around slowly, he wondered whether or not the day before had been a dream. When he spotted Bakura's uniform, and remembered that he was in his brother's room, frustration and anger began to rise in his chest. He started to punch at Bakura's pillow, cursing his dead brother over and over again. Papers began to fly around him, things were being knocked off of the desk, and the light bulb from the lamp on the bedside table exploded. Ryou's body felt charged, as though electricity was rushing through his veins. Tears were running down Ryou's face, and he felt as though at any moment he would combust.
Ryou collapsed against the pillows after a moment, and brought a pillow against his chest. Heart wrenching sobs tore from his lips, and he wished then and there that he could die, just so he could escape the pain of picking up the pieces to his life and moving on. Without Bakura, Ryou didn't know what he would do. The two spent every waking hour together, and often they would stay with each other at night. Some said the relationship between the two was unhealthy, while others thought it cute, and all thought it was odd. James would often try to separate them for a while, just to get them to lead their own lives, not one together. His attempts never worked, however. Bakura would always find a way to pick the locks on both doors and get back to his brother. Ryou often teased him about being a thief in his former life, while Bakura would call him a peasant; Ryou was always the quiet one, the one who enjoyed all the simple pleasures in life.
Ryou's eyes burned, and his chest hurt from sobbing. He buried his head beneath the pillows and asked himself, "Why? Why wasn't it me? Damn it, Bakura! Why the hell wasn't it me..."
The room was quiet again, and Ryou sat and stared at the walls, just as he had done the day before. Ryou could hear his father's snores from his room down the hall. The rhythmic pattern was soothing in it's own way. It reminded Ryou of how Bakura snored slightly in his sleep. Ryou was lost without Bakura as his leading hand. He didn't know where to go, and he wasn't certain that he ever would be.
As sleep started to take over, Ryou focused on an area of the room that he could faintly see the outline of a shimmering body. He blamed it on his lack of sleep and emotional frustration. He closed his eyes and brought a pillow up to his face. Deeply breathing in his brother's scent, something akin to a mix of pine trees and faint cologne, Ryou let himself fall back into the world of dreams.
*~*~~*~*
Ryou awoke to his father's cursing downstairs. From what Ryou could hear, his father had burned himself trying to make breakfast. Ryou rolled over onto his side and faced the wall. He wasn't going to go down there and help his father. James was capable of taking care of himself, even if Bakura was gone. Bakura was the one that had kept that house together. He cooked, worked, and often cleaned when Ryou was to tired to help from school. Bakura was the peacemaker between Ryou and their father, because the two never really got along. Bakura would comfort Ryou when James would make comments that dug deep.
Ryou spent most of the day curled up in Bakura's bed. By the time he emerged, the sun was drifting onto the horizon, and the moon had already appeared to the east. His father was sitting in the living room, reading a newspaper. James didn't look up when Ryou walked past him, but mumbled out a greeting to him when Ryou poured himself a glass of orange juice. Ryou didn't reply, and walked back upstairs. He wasn't prepared for what met his eyes when he went back into his brother's room.
A slightly transparent Bakura was sitting down on the bed, and you could see the evidence that he was there; the bed was sagging down from the weight placed upon it. Ryou's breath hitched in his chest, and he stared at Bakura. Bakura lifted his head and smirked at the look on Ryou's face.
"Well, I'm not liking this greeting much, Ry."
Ryou shut the door carefully and blinked several times before moving to stand in front of the ghostly form of his brother. He lifted a hand, placed it on Bakura's cheek, and found him to be very real. Ryou swallowed and tried to find words to tell his brother hello, but, instead, he dropped to his knees and cried into Bakura's lap. Ryou could feel his brother's hands running through his hair, and he began to cry even harder as Bakura spoke to him in the deep, rough voice of his that was a cross between their native British and Egyptian.
"I've been sent here to help you, Ryou. Only you can see me."
Ryou lifted his head after a few moments and asked softly, "What's going on?"
Bakura smirked. "You're going to be having some new experiences, Ry. And soon, too. Just be prepared for the things to come, don't worry yourself about right now."
*~*~~*~*
Many weeks later, Ryou was sitting on a hill with his arms crossed on his knees, and was staring out over the sunset. He was quiet, par usual nowadays. The only person he would speak to was Bakura, who no one besides himself could now see.
Bakura was sitting beside him, talking to himself softly about how bad he missed food, and other things of that sort. He started when Ryou gave a small yell.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
Ryou blinked, and looked across the valley below him. He could see many shimmering, nearly transparent forms floating below. He had thought he was only able to see Bakura.
"I....just saw more ghosts..."
Bakura snorted and looked at them from where he sat. To him, they looked as real as Ryou. "Of course you did. You're a mediator now. The spirits are just as real to you as I am."
Ryou squinted several times, and finally leaned back onto his back. "I'm going insane."
*~*~~*~*
Ryou let out a frustrated cry as the pan in front of him caught on fire. "Ouch!"
The rag he touched caught on fire as well, and Ryou stared down at his hands. "What the hell is going on with me?"
*~*~~*~~~*~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~*~~*~*
End Chapter One! Hope you enjoyed
Please review and don't flame.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to YGO nor do I claim to.
Bakura = Ryou
Yami Bakura = Bakura
This story will eventually contain Shonen Ai, don't like? DON'T READ!
-Blah- Emphasized words
"Blah" Speaking
'Blah' Thoughts
*~*~~*~* Scene Change
*~*Flashback or Dream*~*
*~*~~*~~~*~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~*~~*~*
Amber Skies
*~*~~*~~~*~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~*~~*~*
He was detached from the world around him. The many faces of his family were blurred, and his hearing was muffled. Ryou hadn't moved from his spot next to the wall for a solid two hours, and he wasn't planning on ever moving again. After all, why go on living when the only person that really ever cared for you was dead? Why go on with life if your twin brother was gone, the other half of your soul?
Ryou didn't have to look up to know that his father was staring down at him with an intensity that could burn. His father blamed him for the death of his brother; blamed him for an accident that no one held blame for. Who can be blamed for an accident? The gods, yourself? Who? Ryou wanted to know why Bakura had been killed in the accident on the dig. He wanted to know why it hadn't been -him- to die. Bakura was the calm one. He was the one that you could always go to for answers; Ryou had admired his twin at all times for the things that he did. Even if he was cold and stoic to everyone but Ryou and his best friend Malik, Ryou felt as though he should have been the one to be in that tunnel.
"You need to eat, Ryou." The words were emotionless, as though James, Ryou's father, was talking to a wall.
Ryou didn't lift his head. He merely nodded and resumed his constant stare at the wall before him. Images blurred across his glassy eyes, and in reality he appeared to be as dead as his brother was.
The services didn't last long, and before Ryou could comprehend what was going on, he was standing on the front porch of the house that he lived in with his father and his brother. He placed his hand on the doorknob and followed his father into the house. His father was no where in sight inside the dark living room, and Ryou figured that he was up in his room.
Out of habit, Ryou knocked on Bakura's door three times as he walked past it, on his way to his room. When he didn't get the answering two knocks, it finally hit Ryou. Bakura was gone forever. Ryou placed his hands on the door, and leaned his forehead against it before opening the room. It was as messy as it was before they left for Egypt. Papers were strewn about the desk, and Bakura's college uniform was tossed into the corner. The bed was unmade, and the red pulled back covers revealed black satin sheets.
Tears started to form in Ryou's deep chocolate eyes, and his throat was constricted as he moved into the room. He touched the papers on the desk gently before going over to the bed and sitting on it. He pushed back the cool sheets a little more before curling up on the bed and crying into the late hours of the night.
*~*~~*~*
*~* Ryou was standing in the middle of what appeared to be a vast hallway with hundreds of doors lining both sides. People were walking back and forth between the doors; some were disappearing in a bright flash of white light, while others were going from door to door as though they were looking for something or someone. Ryou looked around for a moment, before opening his mouth to ask a passerby what was going on. No sound emerged from his open lips. He closed his mouth and looked around him once again.
Something to his left caught his eye. Long, silvery hair was tumbling down the back of a thin-framed body. Ryou tried to call Bakura, for deep in his heart he knew it was his brother, and struggled to push through the swarm of people walking through the hallway. Ryou reached out, tried to grab ahold of Bakura's shirt, and stumbled back into reality *~*
Ryou woke with a start, his heart was racing and sweat had been pouring down his face. Looking around slowly, he wondered whether or not the day before had been a dream. When he spotted Bakura's uniform, and remembered that he was in his brother's room, frustration and anger began to rise in his chest. He started to punch at Bakura's pillow, cursing his dead brother over and over again. Papers began to fly around him, things were being knocked off of the desk, and the light bulb from the lamp on the bedside table exploded. Ryou's body felt charged, as though electricity was rushing through his veins. Tears were running down Ryou's face, and he felt as though at any moment he would combust.
Ryou collapsed against the pillows after a moment, and brought a pillow against his chest. Heart wrenching sobs tore from his lips, and he wished then and there that he could die, just so he could escape the pain of picking up the pieces to his life and moving on. Without Bakura, Ryou didn't know what he would do. The two spent every waking hour together, and often they would stay with each other at night. Some said the relationship between the two was unhealthy, while others thought it cute, and all thought it was odd. James would often try to separate them for a while, just to get them to lead their own lives, not one together. His attempts never worked, however. Bakura would always find a way to pick the locks on both doors and get back to his brother. Ryou often teased him about being a thief in his former life, while Bakura would call him a peasant; Ryou was always the quiet one, the one who enjoyed all the simple pleasures in life.
Ryou's eyes burned, and his chest hurt from sobbing. He buried his head beneath the pillows and asked himself, "Why? Why wasn't it me? Damn it, Bakura! Why the hell wasn't it me..."
The room was quiet again, and Ryou sat and stared at the walls, just as he had done the day before. Ryou could hear his father's snores from his room down the hall. The rhythmic pattern was soothing in it's own way. It reminded Ryou of how Bakura snored slightly in his sleep. Ryou was lost without Bakura as his leading hand. He didn't know where to go, and he wasn't certain that he ever would be.
As sleep started to take over, Ryou focused on an area of the room that he could faintly see the outline of a shimmering body. He blamed it on his lack of sleep and emotional frustration. He closed his eyes and brought a pillow up to his face. Deeply breathing in his brother's scent, something akin to a mix of pine trees and faint cologne, Ryou let himself fall back into the world of dreams.
*~*~~*~*
Ryou awoke to his father's cursing downstairs. From what Ryou could hear, his father had burned himself trying to make breakfast. Ryou rolled over onto his side and faced the wall. He wasn't going to go down there and help his father. James was capable of taking care of himself, even if Bakura was gone. Bakura was the one that had kept that house together. He cooked, worked, and often cleaned when Ryou was to tired to help from school. Bakura was the peacemaker between Ryou and their father, because the two never really got along. Bakura would comfort Ryou when James would make comments that dug deep.
Ryou spent most of the day curled up in Bakura's bed. By the time he emerged, the sun was drifting onto the horizon, and the moon had already appeared to the east. His father was sitting in the living room, reading a newspaper. James didn't look up when Ryou walked past him, but mumbled out a greeting to him when Ryou poured himself a glass of orange juice. Ryou didn't reply, and walked back upstairs. He wasn't prepared for what met his eyes when he went back into his brother's room.
A slightly transparent Bakura was sitting down on the bed, and you could see the evidence that he was there; the bed was sagging down from the weight placed upon it. Ryou's breath hitched in his chest, and he stared at Bakura. Bakura lifted his head and smirked at the look on Ryou's face.
"Well, I'm not liking this greeting much, Ry."
Ryou shut the door carefully and blinked several times before moving to stand in front of the ghostly form of his brother. He lifted a hand, placed it on Bakura's cheek, and found him to be very real. Ryou swallowed and tried to find words to tell his brother hello, but, instead, he dropped to his knees and cried into Bakura's lap. Ryou could feel his brother's hands running through his hair, and he began to cry even harder as Bakura spoke to him in the deep, rough voice of his that was a cross between their native British and Egyptian.
"I've been sent here to help you, Ryou. Only you can see me."
Ryou lifted his head after a few moments and asked softly, "What's going on?"
Bakura smirked. "You're going to be having some new experiences, Ry. And soon, too. Just be prepared for the things to come, don't worry yourself about right now."
*~*~~*~*
Many weeks later, Ryou was sitting on a hill with his arms crossed on his knees, and was staring out over the sunset. He was quiet, par usual nowadays. The only person he would speak to was Bakura, who no one besides himself could now see.
Bakura was sitting beside him, talking to himself softly about how bad he missed food, and other things of that sort. He started when Ryou gave a small yell.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
Ryou blinked, and looked across the valley below him. He could see many shimmering, nearly transparent forms floating below. He had thought he was only able to see Bakura.
"I....just saw more ghosts..."
Bakura snorted and looked at them from where he sat. To him, they looked as real as Ryou. "Of course you did. You're a mediator now. The spirits are just as real to you as I am."
Ryou squinted several times, and finally leaned back onto his back. "I'm going insane."
*~*~~*~*
Ryou let out a frustrated cry as the pan in front of him caught on fire. "Ouch!"
The rag he touched caught on fire as well, and Ryou stared down at his hands. "What the hell is going on with me?"
*~*~~*~~~*~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~*~~*~*
End Chapter One! Hope you enjoyed
Please review and don't flame.
