YAMIS RETURN
Author's Note: Don't expect updates as quick as this all the time. I probably won't have time for many. Anywho, on with it!
To say he was a neat freak was an extreme understatement.
Everything in the room was white. The pillows, the walls, the curtains, the bed, and the boy. Ryou's neatness was reaching an OCD level.
Even if you looked closely, everything was white. The fluorescent lamps in every corner made sure that shadows were microscopic, if existent. The covering for the TV – which was never watched – was made entirely from meticulously taped pieces of paper, which got replaced if they were spotted. His main diet was vanilla ice cream, mashed potatoes, and jicama, a strange white vegetable that he'd found when at the grocery store in his all-white outfit.
Ryou's obsession with the colour white was a useless attempt to keep himself from remembering anything associated with darkness. Namely, a certain yami.
It didn't work.
The white on everything only made him think of his yami's flawless pale skin, his wild pearly hair, his ferocious snowy grin. Not of light, but back to darkness. It was becoming hysteria.
It was worse at night. The landlord of his tiny apartment building had complained of keeping the painfully bright lights on during the evening hours, and Ryou was not in a position where he could adjust if thrown out of the building. The shadows crept back into the room at night, and with them, the nightmares.
Bakura appeared in all of them. They were never happy. But then, when have nightmares ever been happy? The dreams usually showed Bakura being killed, or killing himself, or killing Ryou, or the other way around. Sometimes it was Ryou who died. Those were the worst. Not because of the death, but because of the expression on Bakura's face. Happiness. The only trace of happiness in those twisted visions.
These nightmares were awful for another reason. Ryou had started to sleepwalk. Sometimes he found himself just laying on the floor, curled into a ball. Sometimes he was holding a knife. Sometimes the knife was already in action.
The boy in question was asleep now, as the sun was rising over Domino. But he wasn't in bed. No, it was one of the nightmares that had made him get out of bed, and get a knife. The knife was in action.
As Bakura smiled, a smile that would have made Ryou happy just to see his yami happy in any other scenario, was making him do this.
When Ryou awoke, he was very shocked to see red staining his perfect white world. A message written on the white wallpaper, written in Ryou's own blood.
What it said was surprising.
'Everyone has a demon. Everyone has a true love. I have both in one form. Happiness embodied within despair. Much like hell.'
"RA DAMMIT! ACCURSED THING! DIE IN OBLIVION!" Bakura shrieked in an animalistic tone. The game controller disappeared into the Shadow Realm, and the panting man felt slightly better. Yes, Bakura was playing videogames. In the ancient Egyptian afterlife.
There was a reason for that. It turns out that all of Bakura's relatives – the ones that had been sacrificed to make the Millenium Items – weren't in the afterlife. Their very souls had been trapped in Kul Elna, unable to pass on. Bakura had no desire to meet Ryou's mundane relatives, or spend eternity with Marik, so he resigned himself to playing videogames. Violent ones.
Usually, this ended in frustration and him destroying the game controller in some nasty way. Throwing it into the Nile had worked well, and dropping it from the tallest tower in the palace had been fun, but those pissed off Yami. And as much as he loved to piss off Yami, it got dull. So, he satisfied himself with banishing them to the Shadow Realm, or letting Marik hack them into little pieces and burning them.
Besides, it all returned to the same dilemma.
When was Ryou going to hurry up and die so he could have some company?
Sometimes he was able to oversee Ryou's dreams. That was dreadful most of the time, because he was getting killed or Ryou was. But he didn't fight his own attackers, because it made him unable to see Ryou as much as he would have liked. He did try to defeat Ryou's attackers, but he often couldn't move. So he smiled helplessly, frozen in place, as he watched Ryou be murdered before his eyes, always staring at him with a betrayed look on his beautiful face.
He could never tell the boy that he loved him. It wasn't in his nature.
Bakura sighed, and went back to his videogames, before realizing that he would have to go find another controller. "Shit."
AN: I think I made Bakura pretty in-character, and I left Ryou asleep so I wouldn't have to be him. I'm bad at being Ryou. -_- I liked this chapter more than the other one. Review and you get a chocolate cake shaped like a hikariXyami couple!