Alright, here's a chapter for you to read whilst I go on vacation! Anyways, hope you enjoy it. I have taken into account that it's been rather easy for Bakura so far. I'm going to do my best to remedy that in future chapters but...bear with me. I'm not exactly professional, you know! Anyhoo, for anyone who cares, the cards were Trap Hole and Chain Energy.
Disclaimer: In my dreams I own Yu-Gi-Oh. In real life, I own...um, well I own my computer --.
The Millennium Eye gleamed in Ryou's hand. It still had streaks of rusty red dried across its golden surface. Ryou tossed it up into the air, and let it fall back into his hand rhythmically. It was actually quite heavy, to his surprise, despite it's size. Ryou guessed that it must have been that what it lacked in circumference and area, it made up in its density.
Ryou's annoying spirit, Bakura, was currently resting within the contours of his mind, and the other annoying spirit, whose name Ryou hadn't learned, was pacing restlessly through the Puzzle. Ryou didn't care for the Puzzle spirit, but on the other hand he didn't intend to let Bakura sleep much longer.
He had complaints and questions that he wanted the Spirit to listen to…just as soon as he was ready to bring it up. But first, he wanted to take a shower. Stealing the Eye had smeared blood on Ryou's hands and, though he'd washed it off as soon as he'd come back to the Hotel, he still felt, well, not quite clean. And Bakura had succeeded in tangling Ryou's hair in the trees they'd used for cover at Industrial Illusions during the escape.
Ryou frowned, thinking about how after Bakura had gone and gotten leaves and branches tangled into his long, white hair at least twice, he'd then yelled at him thoroughly for having such an inconvenience. Ryou had, of course, just yelled back, telling him it was his own clumsy fault for not being more careful.
It had been pleasantly surprising that Bakura had been quite so graceless and, well, downright kluzty. So far Bakura had put up an appearance of lithe eloquence that was, frankly, disturbing when around him, so realizing he was capable of human carelessness was refreshing. But Ryou regretted having said all that out loud. The headache he'd been given still hadn't quite worn off.
He set the Eye, Ring, and Puzzle side by side on the wooden dresser. Then, with a last glance towards the Items, he went into the attached bathroom.
Ten minutes later, he was sitting cross-legged on the uncomfortable bed, examining the multiple tools that Bakura had used during their break-in of Pegasus' building. He wore a pair of comfortable green lounge pants that he'd packed with the rest of his clothes. His shirt, a loose black tank top, sat crumpled on the floor a few feet away where he'd dropped it before going to get in the shower. He scratched his forearm, glancing sideways at the pale scars tracing it from elbow to just after his wrist, and fading onto the back of his hand. He bit his lip…these scars; a permanent reminder of those he'd lost. The scars that fueled his nightmares, giving him unease every time he laid eyes on them. On more then one occasion he'd considered tattooing over them, but it seemed wrong to cover up all that was left tying him to his mother. And sister. But he shook all these thoughts away, as he did so often, never resting on the topic for more then a fleeting moment. He refused to let his past torment him. Refused to obsess over that which was long behind him.
He looked up. The TV was turned on and according to the late-night news, Pegasus was in stable condition at the nearest hospital. The woman on-screen had a grave look on her face, and was standing outside what was apparently the hospital Pegasus was located at. She made a small gesture and said, "We'll now go to the doctor who's been taking care of Mr. Pegasus."
The doctor was thin, bald, and had squinty eyes. The doctor first gave the basic rundown of Pegasus' state of health. It was stable. He went on to explain how his "condition" was "unexplained" but they thought he'd had a serious stroke, which had put him into a coma. Of course they hadn't explained how he'd lost an eye to a stroke. Ryou tuned out, flipping the volume down so it was just background noise, and started reexamining the lock-picking set.
He opened the slim black box that he'd watched Bakura take out earlier, looking at the assortment of precisely bent bars and rods. There were also a small bundle of straight ones that were an easily bendable metal, along with two other bars, one a rectangular prism, the other a spherical prism. Ryou assumed that they were to form the straight bars into custom lock-picks.
Curious, he took a decent looking pick over to the bathroom. He leaned inside the door, locking it and then closing the door. He knelt down and slipped the small silver bar into the hole on the handle. It was a relatively simple lock, and Ryou guessed that it shouldn't be hard to open. But it took him almost six minutes to get the right pick and jiggle it around in the brass knob until he heard a promising shift. He stood up and twisted the handle. He was rewarded with a now unlocked bathroom door…but still, Bakura had done a much more complicated lock in a matter of moments. So Ryou shrugged, putting all the picks in their designated places and snapping the case closed.
"Oh well. Who needs to pick locks when we have these amazing little things called keys." He muttered sarcastically as he moved back to the bed and stuffed the tools that were spread out across the sheet into Bakura's black bag. First the lock-pick set, then the battery box, then the mechanical screwdriver, plus a number of other tools that they hadn't needed, including a manualscrewdriver, a small crow bar, and a double-edged knife.
Just as he was stuffing the last of the multi-colored wires into the small side pocket, he felt a brush, just the barest hint of contact, on his left shoulder. It lingered slightly, tracing down the length of another of Ryou's tattoos; a blue, black, and green Chinese dragon that appeared to be clawing it's way up Ryou's back. A voice echoed in the corridors of Ryou's mind, even as he felt a cold breath on the back of his neck.
'But what fun is that, Host, using a key? What about breaking into Industrial Illusions? We didn't have a key then…Speak honestly. You liked our little excursion this evening, didn't you?'
Ryou's arm whipped around, his elbow snapping out and colliding with the jaw of Bakura who had been leaning over from his spot just to the side, so close that their hair was brushing. Then he scrambled off the bed, standing a few feet from the Spirit. He tensed, holding himself so that he was ready to defend if Bakura retaliated. But Bakura just touched his jaw carefully, smiling slightly. Then he sat down on the bed where Ryou had been just before.
"You are either very brave…or very stupid. I've never been struck by a mortal other then you." He said softly, eyes following Ryou's movements.
Ryou was panting slightly, a result of the surprise. He glared hard, staring down Bakura as best he could. "Two words." He spit out through clenched teeth. "Personal. Space."
Ryou was taken aback as Bakura laughed out loud. That hadn't been the reaction he expected at all.
"Are you aphenphosmphobic?" Bakura smirked, brushing his hair away from his crimson eyes.
"Am I…What?" Ryou raised an eyebrow.
"A-Phen-Phos-M-Phobic." Bakura pronounced each syllable precisely, as thought speaking to one who was mentally handicapped, still smirking in that annoying way of his. "It means the irrational fear of being touched. The fear of human contact." He stood up, stepping towards Ryou until they were less then half a foot apart. "So are you?"
Ryou pulled back, fidgeting slightly, and moving away from Bakura again uncomfortably. He used the excuse of turning off the TV so that his back was turned to the Spirit and he didn't have to watch as Bakura smiled, knowing he'd won this encounter with his Host.
Ryou decided to strike back and said slyly, "I don't know why you've found getting all these Items so difficult, Bakura. It's been, what, a few weeks, if that…and we already have three. I thought you said you've been trying to get these things for 3000 years." The words he left unsaid were, you wouldn't be this close without me, I'm the only reason you've made it this far…and he knew that Bakura knew it.
"It isn't that simple." Bakura said though, not acknowledging the implied insult, standing casually in the middle of the room to Ryou's increased annoyance. His attempted verbal jousting had been spurned prematurely, and he frowned as Bakura said, "None of the Ring's previous owners have been quite so…agreeable…as you. They've made efforts to stop me, or have had their own greedy desires to attend to using the Powers of my Ring." He paused, thinking. "The other Item's owners were more cautious with their possessions as well. We're making very good progress. At this rate, we should have them all within the next month or perhaps even less."
"Assuming nothing goes wrong." Ryou suggested.
"Nothing will go wrong." Bakura corrected confidently, almost to himself. Then he walked back over to the desk, touching the three Items possessively. They were his. And though it bothered him that Ryou was correct, it was the closest he'd ever been to accomplishing his purpose. His eyes strayed back to where Ryou stood by the television.
"Why do you mark yourself, Yadonushi?" Bakura asked, moving back to the bed, laying back and looking relaxed.
Ryou looked over to him, puzzled. "Mark myself? What do you mean?"
"Your tattoos. Why do you get them?" Bakura's eyes rested on the tattoo on his Host's back, eyes tracing the intricate scales lining the dragon's body.
Ryou, back still to the other, touched the morbid yin-yang symbol on his neck. He could feel Bakura's piercing gaze on his back, and it made him feel awkward. Rather then give the Spirit the satisfaction of seeing his discomfort though, he just traced the tattoo again with his finger. Though he couldn't actually see it without a mirror, he knew it was there. A scar in its own sort of way.
"I guess…that they're just a way to express myself. It's like getting a haircut, or changing your style. Only, more permanent…I don't mark myself though. You make it sound like I'm a cutter or something." He grimaced. Sometimes he did regret getting his tattoos. Especially after the first one. But it hadn't stopped him from getting two more. The one on his shoulder, and also the one on his neck had followed closely after the one on his ankle (a ring of barbed wire and rose thorns). Each had followed an especially difficult event in his life…perhaps he should get one after he finished helping Bakura achieve his ends. A twisted, overall cooler version of the Millennium Ring perhaps. The thought made him smile slightly, but the smile disappeared when Bakura started to speak again.
"It seems like a very foolish way to express yourself. You already have scars, Ryou. Why intentionally give yourself more?" He chastised mockingly.
"They aren't really scars." Ryou objected, denying what he himself had thought just a few moments earlier, and rubbing his neck self-consciously. "They're just–"
Bakura shook his head, interrupting with a smug look on his face. "They are scars Ryou. They're just a little more colorful." He tilted his head to the side, waiting for Ryou's reaction.
And it came. Ryou flashed the spirit a glare that had 'If Looks Could Kill' spelled all over it. "What does it matter to you?" he burst out. "You're just another dent in my life. One who finds enjoyment in dwelling on every bloody mistake I've ever made!" Ryou was now pacing in heated anger, his temper getting the better of him again. He walked in tight circles at the foot of the bed, hands clenching convulsively as though he were strangling something.
Bakura watched in amusement, appreciative of how he'd tugged on Ryou's nerves, and how the young teen overreacted. But, all good things had to come to an end, and it was now time to come back to more important matters.
"Baka," He snapped, causing Ryou to stop his furious pacing and angry muttering and pay attention. "Pay attention. We have plans to make. I know you haven't forgotten our goal so quickly. We were only just speaking of it."
"Oh, right. Before you got off subject. So, back to your little quest," Ryou sighed in exasperation, then, looking Bakura in the eye, he asked. "How did you ever land yourself on such a boring, pointless, goal?"
"Boring?" Bakura scoffed. "Typical of a mortal like you to think that a feat of such great magnitude is boring. You don't even know what they can do! Believe me, it is not for nothing that I work towards gathering the Items."
"Well, do you plan on telling me what happens when we do get them all, seeing as how you said it would be within next month?" Ryou folded his arms over his chest pointedly.
"No."
Ryou sighed again, this time in irritation, biting back his sharp retort, knowing it would do no good. Instead he just muttered to himself, "You and that stupid Spirit in the Puzzle. Both want me to do something, but of course neither of you tell me why, just that I have to…I must have bad Karma or something, because no normal person deserves such crap."
Bakura sat up attentively, his eyes suddenly suspicious. "What did you say?" He swung his legs over the side of the bed, getting up again, and staring down his Host.
Ryou gave him a what's-your-problem type of look. "Nothing that would matter to you."
Bakura suddenly closed the distance between them. In a few long strides that Ryou barely saw, he was right beside him. His hand dug into Ryou's shoulder, and he forced the surprised teen against the wall beside the television. He hit with a thud, crying out in shock.
"Ow! What is your problem!" Ryou grasped Bakura's wrist with his left hand, struggling to force him away.
"You spoke to the Pharaoh?" Bakura growled lowly, his breath hot on Ryou's face.
Ryou pushed against the Spirit's arm, but his hand was clamped on his shoulder like iron. Ryou winced again, instinctively trying to shy away from the pain, but he was held tight against the wall.
"Yeah, so what!" Ryou let go of Bakura's arm, abruptly shifting to the offensive. He flung his fist forward with as much strength as he could muster. He could only take so much from the Spirit, and he was at his breaking point. But Bakura was prepared for the blow and he caught it by Ryou's wrist. He pinned his arm to the wall, squeezing until Ryou almost cried out loud in pain. Instead, he hissed through clenched teeth.
Bakura's eyes bore into Ryou's angrily. "What did he say to you?"
"Nothing, nothing. Why do you even care?" Ryou said defiantly.
"You're lying, Ryou. I want to know what he said to you."
"Ok, ok. Fine! He just said that I should stop helping you. He told me that if you got the Items, it would be really bad, or something. I don't know, I yelled at him before he told me anything important."
"What did you say to him? Did you agree with him?" Bakura interrogated, his hands tightened.
"No! I told him I had no reason to help him, or not help you. I don't even remember what I said, really, and if I had agreed with him would I still be working with you?" Ryou answered flusteredly, but still managing to be slightly snide.
"Would you?" his eyes narrowed. He released Ryou's wrist and shoulder, but he wasn't finished punishing Ryou yet. He punched him hard in the stomach, causing Ryou to double over, breathlessly.
He looked up, one eye closed against the pain. "What was that for!" he said, his voice weak.
"I expect you to tell me when you speak with other people. I don't care who, or when, or what the circumstances of the meeting are. I want to know." Bakura snarled, preparing to punch Ryou again. But, just before he struck out, an semi-tangible figure formed in front of the teen to both Ryou and Bakura's shock. Bakura's eyes widened, while Ryou slid to the floor against the wall, holding his stomach and looking weak.
"You should treat your Host better, Bakura."
Bakura took a step back from the Pharaoh, his eyes cold. "Don't tell me how to handle what is mine. This is not your concern."
The Pharaoh, who was returning Bakura's icy gaze without hesitation, returned, "Actually, I believe it is. He's my Host now too, as much as I wish he weren't. I won't let you injure him."
Bakura laughed scornfully. "Honestly. You are weak, Pharaoh. Why don't you go back into your puzzle? Let me deal with my Ryou." Bakura gestured to the Puzzle, gleaming dimly on the table beside the Ring and Eye.
The Pharaoh, glared up at Bakura, not denying that he was weaker then him at this particular moment, but refusing to be put down so easily. "He is not yours, Thief. He is a human, and he belongs to no one. Least of all you."
Ryou looked up at each of the Spirits from his place on the floor. At this moment, he hated both of them more then he'd ever hated anyone. More then he hated his father. More then the many people who'd picked on him, bullied him, throughout his life. What right did these two dead Spirit's have to barge into his life like this! What right did they have to tell him what he would and wouldn't do? They'd had lives, which they'd obviously screwed up themselves. Why did they have to come and screw up his life as well?
"You have no authority anymore, Yami. You cannot tell me what does or doesn't belong to me. Ryou is my Host, and that won't change despite your inconvenient arrival here. I don't care if you consider him to be your Host as well, because I have complete control over him." Bakura declared. His eyes flashed. "You can't stop what is destined to be."
Ryou watched this exchange, feeling angry still, but insignificant at the same time. His pain was wearing away, but what could he do. How could he take charge…because even as Bakura said the words, Ryou recognized the truth in them. Bakura could take over whenever he wanted, despite Ryou's arguments and opinions. No matter what he did, he could seem to gain control again.
"Bakura…can you not see that what you are doing is wrong? Why do you want this! You had no right to drag Ryou into your plans. You haven't even told him what will happen. He would never help you if he knew."
"Perhaps, but fortunately for me, he doesn't have much of a choice. Now leave!" A beam of black and white light shot out of the Ring, hitting Yami. Yami held off the light with his hands. His hair whipped around his face, and the light made a sound like rushing water. But he didn't appear to be effected at first. He shook his head, pushing the Shadow Magic back and said sadly, "He'll know. He'll find out eventually, and then you will fail." Then he let the light come forward, twisting around him before it faded. With the fading of the light from Bakura's Ring, Yami also faded. He seemed to grow frail, and after seconds, he was gone.
Bakura was breathing heavily, whether from the mental exertion of getting rid of the Pharaoh or from Yami's dooming prophecy, Ryou didn't know. He looked pleased, that he'd gotten rid of the uninvited Spirit though.
"You can be such a fag, Bakura." Ryou accused, shaking his head, and standing up on shaking legs. He still looked slightly faint, and was holding his stomach carefully.
"Well, you're absolutely weak. I barely touched you, Ryou. I guess you should be grateful that that Ra-cursed Pharaoh showed up when he did. Otherwise, you'd be in a considerably more painful situation." He looked out the window at the rising sun. They'd been up all night. "You need to buy a ticket to Egypt as soon as possible. I know you'd love to stay here, rather then continue our boring quest, but we have to move on to the next Items."
Ryou sat down on the bed tiredly. "And what are the next Items?" He asked.
"I'm not sure, but Pegasus said that Egypt would be the first place to look. I don't believe he was mistaken, so that's where we're going."
Ryou hesitated, but then asked carefully to avoid being hit again, "Why should I keep helping you, Bakura?" Before Bakura could answer, he continued. "Yami obviously thinks that what you're doing is going to be very bad…and honestly it's kind of breaking my bank account. I don't have an unlimited supply of money. I mean, I can't afford to just fly wherever the next Item is! I want to know why I'm doing this for you!"
"Money isn't an issue, so don't concern yourself with it." Bakura said, "And you are helping me whether you want to or not. I don't know why I have to keep telling you that. Just do as I say. You'll be better off that way, Yadonushi." He sighed. "You don't need to know why I want the Items. You'll understand when the time comes. Now get some rest…I can't afford to be working with a exhausted Host. Get that flight as soon as possible."
He faded away.
Ryou flopped back onto the bed. He concentrated on breathing regularly and on the subsiding pain. Then he began tracing the patters of plaster on the ceiling of the Hotel. Anything to keep his mind of the confusing encounter with the two Spirits.
Finally he drifted into a fitful sleep, his mind trapped in his memories and problems as past and present collided in the form of nightmares. He dreamed of his sister, he heard her calling him but no matter how hard he searched he couldn't find her. He dreamed of his father, looking at him with such disappointment that he felt like his heart was being wrenched out. And he dreamed of Bakura…he dreamed that Bakura was trapped in a burning city. Hundreds of people screamed, their cries echoing in Ryou's mind. In the midst of them all, he saw a young Bakura shivering, scared, and alone. But somewhere in his subconscious he knew that all he was seeing was a twisted version of his own past.
It was just an illusion, formed out of his own memories and imagination that made the nightmare seem so real. Wasn't it? Or were he and the Spirit connected in more ways then he'd ever imagined.
OK! I JUST WANT TO SAY THANK YOU TO ALL MY REVIEWERS! You're all amazing, and I'm so glad that people are enjoying the story. And, though I never want to ask too much, I'd absolutely LOVE IT you reviewed so that I know if this chapter was good or if it was a flump. THANKS!
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