Offerings for the Moon
Hello, and welcome to my Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction "Offerings for the Moon". The story will be told through two points of view, Ryou's and Bakura's. For the sake of this story, as it is an Alternate Universe story, Ryou's last name will be changed, and Bakura will get a last name.
This story will contain concepts relating to occult, so if this offends you, please walk away now, otherwise, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy the story!
"Be a good boy," mamma whispered, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. As I watched her die, from a fatal knife wound to the chest, I knew that "good" would become synonymous with "dead".
From that moment, the one truth was power, and nothing would keep me from living life to its fullest. I stood, and fled from the house, my mind set in stunning clarity, despite what I had just witnessed. No matter what the cost might be.
"Be a good boy," pappa whispered. Moments later, his grip on my hand loosened, and he left the world, and me, forever. Watching him lay there, in a pool of his own blood, I cried.
"I'll make you proud, Pappa," I agreed, "I'll be the best that I can be, and I'll make you proud."
As I sat there, still clutching my father's hand, people entered my home, taking the bodies of my mother, and sister from the house. After prying my hand from my father's, his body, too, was taken from the house, and I felt loneliness suddenly weigh heavily on my chest.
There was no one else for me, now, and digesting that felt disgustingly hard. A lump built in my throat, and the tears that had stopped threatened to fall again. After a few moments, people came again, new ones, and gently took either of my arms, leading me to a carriage outside the house, and I followed, numbly.
"How old is he?" I heard a stout old woman ask the man who sat across from me.
"I'm seven," I answered, surprised that I didn't choke on that still uncomfortable lump.
Her voice became hushed, and her arm wrapped around my shoulders. She stroked my hair, gently. "It's okay to cry, Ryou," she consoled, her curly, grey locks brushing against my cheek. "It's okay to cry."
It took a few moments, but soon, I rested my head on her shoulder, and I cried. Heaving sobs threatened to tear my chest apart, I bawled against her until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer, and then I slept.
When I woke, again, I found myself in a large room, surrounded by children. Many peered rather widely at me, before one leaped up and flew to attach itself to me. "He's awake, he's awake!" the boy sang, and soon others gathered in, asking questions of me faster than I could register them.
After a while, when I didn't answer their questions, they became silent, and just watched me again. I smiled, slowly.
"Um… Where am I?" I asked, glancing around at various people who caught my eye.
"You're in St.Odeon's Orphanage!" A small, dark haired boy responded, with a chipper smile.
An Orphanage… That bitter sense of loneliness returned, before a hand was thrust into my face. Glancing to see who was attached to that hand, I saw that same dark haired boy grin.
"Hi! I'm Yuugi, by the way!" he declared, "Let's be friends, okay? You can share my toys!"
Somehow, that warmed me up inside, considerably, and I laughed. "Can we play?" I asked, and before I knew it, I was being shooed towards a few wooden trains on the floor, which Yuugi rather proudly declared were his toys from 'Mistress' for Christmas.
Months passed, and my family became nothing but a happy memory, and as the years went on, the children from the orphanage also became family to me. It was sad when my family was adopted away, and it was sad that we never saw them again.
Yuugi and I often mused that perhaps being adopted was bad, because they wouldn't let you see your friends again, and because adults just didn't understand that we were family. We would hide in a closet under the stairs when people came to look at us, so they couldn't take us away from one another. He was my best friend, and he mattered to me more than anything.
When we were around ten years old, however, this friendship seemed to slowly dissipate. Yuugi had made friends with siblings, who had been around a while, and I distanced myself somewhat, in my loneliness.
Enter Malik, age thirteen. I swear I was in love with him. His dark skin, his blonde hair… At times, I found him rude to the point of obscenity, but nevertheless the way I felt was something I could barely understand.
I do believe that he noticed me; at least, I liked to believe it then. He spent most of his time to himself, he would never change with the rest of us, never have baths when the others could walk in on him.
The first time we spoke, he was so angry with me for so much as approaching him, that I couldn't even look at him again for a week. Eventually, we went everywhere together. I never really knew much about him, just that he didn't trust adults, at all, and he couldn't stand stupidity, or incompetence.
This was easy enough for me to deal with, though I do feel at times that my nature also irritated him.
"Not everyone wants to be happy all the time, Ryou," he explained. "Sometimes, feeling sad can be the best feeling in the world…"
"But why would you want to feel sad?" I asked. He smiled.
"Because we all need to cry now and then." He ruffled my hair a bit, and I leaned on his shoulder. I still didn't understand, but it was enough for me at the time.
When we were sixteen, I was to be adopted. The woman seemed nice enough, and I was a little sad to be leaving, but nevertheless, it kinda felt nice to be leaving. When Malik found out, he protested – loudly.
"You can't go with that woman," he insisted, holding both of my shoulders, he was visibly scared. "She doesn't want to adopt you, Ryou, she wants to sell you."
"… Like… a slave?" I asked him, blinking somewhat, but he shook his head, looking a bit worse, and becoming pale.
"No, like a prostitute."
I watched him a bit, then frowned. "And how would you know?" I asked him. I, too, was becoming upset. I had a chance to get out of this place, and have a family, and instead of being happy for me, Malik was trying to keep me here.
Malik winced, and looked away. "… Ryou… that woman… I know her," he said, chewing his lip. "When I came here… I came here from her."
"She's your mother?" I blinked.
"No," Malik sighed. "She… sold me off to men, for money. She's a Mistress."
Now I bit my lip, too. "But… all the papers have been signed and… she's coming to get me tomorrow… a-and…"
Malik looked around the room a bit again, checking that it was still empty, before whispering. "Gather your things; we'll get out of here tonight, okay?" I hesitated, before nodding. "Good. I'll take care of you, I promise."
True to his word, that night, the things I had packed and hidden were taken, and me along with them. Malik and I fled down the cobblestone streets, and into the night, with the midsummer stars shining above us, and the oil lamps passing in blurry lines.
I tried to ask Malik where we were going, but running was making it hard to breathe, much less make intelligible sentences. We soon found ourselves on a bridge, and while I caught my breath, Malik perched himself on the stone rail.
"…We won't have somewhere to stay right away… but I'll do what we can to keep you safe and comfortable, okay?" he gazed at the sky while he spoke to me, and yet it felt like he could see inside me.
"I'll try and help, too," I told him, once my breath was somewhat returned to me. "I'll do whatever I can to help."
Malik smiled. I smiled back. We both looked out over the river, watching the stars twinkle in its reflection, while the oil lamps went out along the road.