[Okay uhhh sorry I haven't updated Warehouse Case yet I'm still trying to figure out if my plan for that is gonna pull through or if it is too boring :') Also Idk if I'm ever gonna update Friend Turned Stranger by I COMPLETELY forgot how i wanted to end that so….
Here's some angsty ryou and bakura stuff! :D ]
...
Nihility - nothingness; nonexistence
…
Bakura watched the boy silently, sitting perched on the bed in a translucent form, his eyes narrowed in concentration. His host hadn't moved from his spot on the floor for what seemed like hours, papers, cards, and pictures spread out all across the wood floor, nearly covering the entire room. Ryou hadn't done this in a long while, but it was something he'd done before. Bakura never understood why, and frankly, neither did Ryou. It was just something he felt he needed to do.
Ryou stared at the letters he'd written to his sister. That was usually the last thing he studied, perhaps because they didn't seem so foreign. Ryou wrote them after all, and he could understand himself. He didn't understand photographs, though. Ryou couldn't grasp the idea that something could be right in front of him, able to be seen by his eyes, yet still be gone forever at the same time. It hurt him the most, so he looked at the pictures first. The cards scattered about the room were just aftermath of searching for the pictures. Ryou always asked Bakura to hide them. Usually, Ryou would forget about them if he didn't know where they were, but tonight the boy couldn't help himself. It was needed. He was hurting.
Bakura tensed when Ryou moved, then relaxed when he saw that his host was just gathering the letters and pictures to put them in their special box. When Ryou pushed it away, Bakura took that as a sign, and got up to retrieve the white shoebox. His fingers just barely grazed the cardboard when Ryou spoke up. "Leave it," he said, his voice uncharacteristically firm, and void of the usual emotion the boy showed after these 'memory stares'. Bakura scowled.
"I'm not leaving it. You were sitting here for nearly three hours. This isn't what many people your age would consider 'coping.'" Bakura snorted and scooped up the box, but before he could, Ryou's hand forced the box back down on the ground, his eyes staring into Bakura's slightly startled ones.
"I said leave it."
Needless to say, Bakura moved away and crossed his arms over his chest, watching as Ryou turned away and resumed his previous position with his legs crossed and hands in his lap. The spirit grit his teeth. Having a host wasn't supposed to be this much work. In fact, Bakura thought that Ryou was strong. He could wield and hold the power of the millennium ring within his soul and mind, after all, but frankly, Ryou was perhaps the weakest person Bakura had ever met.
Of course, Bakura hadn't really met that many people.
"You're going to make yourself sick," Bakura mumbled. It wasn't necessarily because he cared, but because Ryou's mental state often got in the way of his plans for revenge. Bakura hated that. "When was the last time you ate anything?" Bakura stared at the boy, waiting for an answer. He never got one. "You don't remember?"
When the room remained silent, Bakura walked over to Ryou, crouching down next to his host. The boy didn't flinch or move, his eyes remaining on the floor as Bakura leaned in closer. The spirit, with an ever so gentle touch, tucked part of Ryou's hair behind his ear, causing goosebumps to form on Ryou's neck. "Dear landlord," Bakura began, his voice higher pitched as he tried to sound genuinely polite. "If you do not get up off of this floor, then I will gladly stuff your silly little mind into the back of your skull and keep you there until I'm confident that you will put your fucking ears to use and listen to the words coming out of my mouth. Do I make myself clear?"
Bakura watched Ryou's hands tense, his knuckles turning a paler white, but they relaxed almost immediately. Bakura smirked as Ryou nodded. "Excellent," the spirit said, standing up and watching Ryou do the same. Something was very off about him, though. The last time Ryou had a 'staring session' with his most prized possessions, he was crying. Sobbing, even. This time, though, Ryou seemed like… Nothing. Literally nothing. It wasn't Bakura's problem, though. If it turned out to be a problem, Bakura would have no issue staying true to his promise and locking Ryou away until he was better. Perhaps not even until he was needed. It was tempting, but Bakura controlled himself.
When Ryou got up off the floor, he closed his eyes and breathed. He felt so incredibly anxious, he didn't know what to do. He felt trapped. And in a way, he was. Ryou didn't exactly have anyone to speak with. Especially now. Battle City had ended long ago, Yugi and his friends were away again. Ryou was completely alone in this moment, and that was all he could think about. It was eating away at him, and while it was refreshing not to have to keep up with his friendly persona with all of Yugi's friends, Ryou was being himself for too long. He had no distractions, no responsibilities to hold his attention.
Ryou was starting to crack. He was a thread, fraying at the edges and unraveling itself slowly, but surely.
He stood, but didn't move. "Spirit," He said, licking over his lips. "Can you feel pain?"
The question seemed to take Bakura by surprise. The man scoffed. Ryou asked strange questions like that often. Bakura was used to it by now. "I can feel pain when I'm in your body, yes."
Ryou frowned. "No. Not physical pain. The.. The other kind." The boy swallowed, glancing over his shoulder at Bakura, who stared back at him with a hard glare.
"No. I don't. Not even when I'm in your body."
Ryou seemed to contemplate this, and Bakura didn't appreciate that. He said nothing, though as Ryou turned completely to face him, continuing the conversation. "Are you sure? You're not in the afterlife. You're not even in purgatory. You're more human than you are spirit. It's inevitable that you feel things." Ryou looked at Bakura with that same empty expression he looked at the pictures with. "You feel hatred. Hatred branches off of other emotions."
Bakura only narrowed his eyes further, opening his mouth to speak, but Ryou interrupted him.
"If anything, you feel more than anybody else. You're an embodiment of hatred. You feel hatred more than anything else. Hatred blinds you, and then you crave power. That's a feeling, too. Stubbornness, hatred, fear… They all branch off of pain." Ryou stepped closer, almost eagerly. "Spirit… What does that feel like?"
Bakura hadn't moved from his spot, but he found he couldn't reply right away, either. Ryou was… He wasn't wrong. In fact, he was very much correct, and Bakura found he couldn't argue with that. That only pissed him off, though. "Look, kid, I don't have time for your stupid edgy teen questions. You know what pain, physical and emotional, feels like. Don't be fucking stupid."
Ryou only seemed more intrigued, and he took another step closer. "I know what pain is," he said, absentmindedly tracing over the webbing of scar tissue on his left hand. "But I don't know what it feels like. The inside kind. I don't think I ever did. Is that a bad thing?" Ryou didn't wait for Bakura to answer his question, for he kept rambling on, thinking out loud. "I-I tried! I tried to feel it! I remember what the side effects were. I remember how to cry, but it hasn't felt real. Nothing feels real. No matter how many times I read those letters and look at those pictures, I just… It's not the same. The pain is gone. There's nothing there."
Bakura was growing more uncomfortable with every word that left Ryou's mouth. The boy was never open about his feelings. Or.. if he even had feelings, because that seemed to be what he was confessing. "It.. Host, you're-" Bakura noticed he was stuttering, and quickly corrected himself, scowling at Ryou and adding some kind of snarl. "Just shut up. If you don't understand things, then don't talk about them. You sound like a fucking lunatic."
The words didn't seem to make Ryou stop, though. The boy tilted his head, his eyes moving over bakura quickly, as if they were searching for something that would hide away any second. "Spirit, please tell me. I-I just want to know.." Ryou walked up to him, his big, green eyes never losing contact with Bakura's.
"What is it like to feel only pain? So much pain that you're forced to convert it into hatred? Why can't you handle it? Why do you have to rely so much on-"
Bakura knew that he'd had enough. "Shut up!" He shouted, grabbing the collar of Ryou's shirt and pulling their faces close. A drop of sweat could be seen dripping down the side of Bakura's face. "You shut your fucking mouth! I don't give a shit about your family, I don't give a shit about your stupid lonely life, Ryou Bakura!" The spirit shouted, perturbed by the fact that Ryou didn't look at all frightened. "You're lucky I'm even talking to you. You're lucky I have the presence of mind to fucking reveal myself to you. You'd be dead in a hole somewhere if it weren't for me, and you fucking know it. Don't you ever speak to me that way again, or I can make things much more difficult for you, landlord."
A silence filled the room, the two staring at each other for a moment. As Bakura relaxed, Ryou spoke again. "I see it every night," he said, his voice so unnaturally monotone and void of life, it could be mistaken for a machine. "I see them. I see you. I see him. I see everything."
Bakura bristled. If he had a heart, it would be pounding. Bakura could swear he heard something like that, and it certainly wasn't coming from Ryou. He knew he couldn't show that to Ryou now, though. After all, Ryou could be talking about something completely different. Bakura let go of Ryou's shirt, and took a step back. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"But you do!" Ryou insisted, once again drawing closer to Bakura. "You! Them! Him! I see all of it! Every night! I see the flames, I hear the screams, I see the gold, I hear the horses… All of it. It plays over and over. I see it when I close my eyes." Bakura was silent, backing up as Ryou kept trying to get closer. "Do you see my nightmares, too? Do you hear the screams? Do you hear the screech of rubber? Do.. Do you see the blood like how I see yours?"
"Ryou-"
"Do you see the bodies, too? I see them. I tried to help them once. I tried to save one of them. It didn't work. There was too much blood. I didn't-"
"Ryou stop!" Bakura practically screamed, his eyes wide in horror. Ryou didn't seemed horrified in any way. Just giving description as if he were reading something as mundane as the dictionary. "Stop it. Just stop. You're.." Bakura hated himself, but he wanted it to end. "You're scaring me. Stop it."
Ryou stood in front of Bakura now, tilting his head to the right. "...Stop?"
His lip curled upward. It started with a soft chuckle, and Ryou eventually began to laugh. "Scared? Scared?!" Ryou laughed for longer than was comfortable to Bakura, before leaning in close, their noses nearly touching. "I thought you didn't feel anything, spirit. I thought you only felt hatred. But.. Fear is a fuel for hatred isn't it? You hate, because you fear. You fear because you feel pain. I only wanted to know what it was like. May I ask again? What it's like to feel?"
Ryou stared at Bakura whose back was now pressed against the wall. Bakura, while he didn't seem to look as terrified as he felt, had to consider his words. Ultimately, that didn't matter, though, because Ryou was right. Bakura hated because he feared. "You want to know what it's like?" Bakura shoved Ryou away with as much force as he could, causing the boy to stumble backward. "I can show you. I can show you the pain I feel the only way you know how to feel." Bakura grabbed a fistful of Ryou's hair, switching their places and throwing him against the wall. A hand gripped the boy's throat, Bakura's fingernails digging into Ryou's skin. "You ungrateful piece of shit. I told you to shut your mouth. I should've fucking locked you away inside your tiny little mind as soon as you put on that ring."
Bakura pressed a hand to Ryou's chest, where the glow of the Sennen Ring could be seen through the fabric of the boy's shirt. It became hot. So hot that it nearly started to burn through Ryou's clothes.
Bakura watched Ryou intently for a moment, but found himself empty-handed when Ryou didn't scream. He smiled. Ryou smiled. And he smiled so innocently, Bakura nearly felt sick at the sight of it.
"How many times do you have to mutilate my body before you realize it'll only slow you down in the end?"
Bakura let go of Ryou's throat, quickly as if Ryou himself was as hot as the Ring had gotten. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Bakura spat, though his voice was higher pitched than he wanted it to be.
Ryou looked down at his chest, looking up at Bakura again with that same eerie, empty expression. "If I knew, spirit, I would tell you." The boy licked over his bottom lip, once again moving closer to Bakura. "But I think after all of this, you owe me an answer. What does it feel like? Why do you do what you do? Please tell me, Spirit. I think it'll make me better somehow."
Bakura watched in disgust as Ryou walked closer to him, little drops of blood staining the boy's shirt. Bakura shook his head, keeping his pace and backing up each time Ryou tried to get closer. "You've lost it, Host. You fucking lost your mind! You're not making any sense, just listen to yourself!" Bakura stopped, not liking that Ryou was making him retreat and feel the fear he'd kept hidden for thousands of years. "You're a fucking-"
"Freak? Creep? Which one is it, Ring Spirit? I can't keep track of what I am anymore. And do you know why that is?" Ryou, on impulse, pushed all of his things (vases, pencils, books) off of his desk, the items crashing to the wood floor below. He stood, shaking, his fingernails clawing into the desk. "Because of you. Because of YOU! I spend more time in the depths of my mind than I do in the real world! Perhaps, just maybe, that's why I'm having such a hard time. The least you fucking owe me is an actual answer!" By now, Ryou's voice was loud, and he clawed the desk, leaving marks behind. He only grew more upset when Bakura just stared at him in some kind of confused shock. "Well?! Nothing to say?"
Ryou narrowed his eyes, growling in anger before he moved closer to Bakura again, both of them now trailing into the hallway. "Nothing to say like always, then? Like when you stabbed me. Twice! Like when you locked away every single person I ever met, keeping them all displayed in my own bedroom? Can you explain that to me?" Ryou grit his teeth, the two only stopping when Bakura hit the counter in the kitchen, nowhere else to back up to. "You're fucking useless!" Ryou screamed, grabbing a knife from the holder, which caused Bakura to finally register and react.
"You put that down right now, Host. You don't want to do this. You're not thinking straight. Put it down and I'll talk to you. I promise." Bakura eyed the knife with caution, watching as Ryou now poked the tip of the sharp end with his index finger.
"I don't? I don't want to do this?" Ryou laughed, poking his finger harder and watching the blood drip down his pale hand. "I think I do! I think I really do!"
Bakura didn't even register what had happened until it already happened. He blinked, and he was standing elsewhere, holding a knife in one hand, and blood coating the other. He was in Ryou's body, but.. he didn't feel Ryou's body like normal.
"How does it feel, Spirit?" Ryou's voice echoed in Bakura's head. "How does it feel to not feel?" Bakura watched as his right hand, the one with the knife, moved on its own accord, bringing the blade to his left hand. Then, suddenly, Bakura gained feeling in his left arm, but nowhere else.
He started to panic.
Bakura was never helpless. Bakura was never scared. Bakura was the darkness! He was the one to cause fear! So.. Why was he so afraid now? So afraid of Ryou's impulsive, unpredictable actions?
"Ready, Spirit?" Bakura could hear the grin in Ryou's voice, and he watched the right hand swing down.
He wouldn't feel pain though. Never again.
Bakura managed to find his power again, reminding himself that he was in charge of this.. This boy.
Their conscious minds switched again, and it wasn't Ryou that stabbed Bakura. It was Bakura that would stab through Ryou's hand, the exact same spot where he had years before, practically pinning the hand to the counter.
The kitchen was abnormally silent. There wasn't a scream where there should have been one. When Bakura looked into Ryou's eyes, he was staring back at him, still as empty as ever, even with the clear anger he showed when yelling.
"I guess you won't ever learn, will you?" Ryou murmured, so softly, so nicely, Bakura almost wanted to lean closer for the comfort after the experience of fear. "How sad."
There was a pause, Bakura not really knowing what to say. He kept his hand on the knife, though, afraid to let Ryou go. But then Ryou spoke again.
"Do you think they still love you?"
Bakura's brow furrowed, and he applied more force on the knife to get Ryou to stop talking. It didn't work. Nothing did.
"You know who I'm talking about, right? Those people from the dreams. Who were they, Spirit? Who were those people I was dreaming about?"
Bakura growled, sinking the knife in even further, through the counter now for sure. "You're fucking crazy. I don't know what-"
"Your family?"
The word made Bakura freeze.
"Were they your family? Your mother, your father, your friends, your village. You watched them die. You watched them die and you didn't do anything." Ryou watched Bakura's frozen expression, his hand, the one that wasn't bleeding profusely, reached up to caress Bakura's translucent face. "But.. I suppose you couldn't. You were so young." Ryou sighed, it being the first sign of emotion this night. "I know what that's like. To not be able to do anything." He smirked then, something so evil, so foreign on Ryou's soft features, it brought Bakura out of his freeze, causing him to shudder and grimace.
"Of course, you were weak. You let your fear eat you alive. You let hatred gnaw at your insides. That was your mistake, Spirit. You should have welcomed the incident."
Ryou licked over his lips again, leaning in close to Bakura and studying his features. Ryou admired them because it was his own face. "You would be so much more powerful.. You would be worth so much more if you just let go of the past. You fight for people who are already dead, when really-" Ryou leaned in as close as possible, their lips grazing as he whispered, "You need to fight for yourself."
Bakura, mesmerized by Ryou's gentle touch and intense gaze, found himself weakening again. Ryou was… He must be strong. He must be strong to have endured all he had in the past, and all of this now. Ryou must be wise to have been through this life, through death and possession, and still come out above the Spirit. Bakura nodded, slowly, leaning forward to try and catch Ryou's lips in a kiss (something to comfort his emotions, for Ryou's lips felt so soft and welcoming), but Ryou pulled away. "You're pathetic," Ryou said, rolling his eyes and removing his hand from Bakura's face to pull the knife out of his hand. Neither of them seemed to notice the blood was mixed with a black substance. "Stay away from me until you learn how to fucking handle yourself. I'm embarrassed for you." Ryou tossed the knife into the sink, chuckling to himself.
"And to think you were the one that wanted to take over the world. You can't even take over your host."
[Sigh uhh I don't like how I ended this but I have no energy to write anymore. But :) They seemed to have traded places, eh? Perhaps Ryou had planned all of this from the beginning….. :) ]