Notes: So uh, this chapter has footnotes, blame it on the caffeine -sheepish-. Sankyuu for the reviews and I hope you guys enjoy this chapter.
Disclaimer: Still don't own them. Marik does, they're all his biz-tchs (even though he's not actually in this chapter -sweatdrops-)
Warnings: Not much really... Sappiness mostly (Gods how I hate it, but it was necessary).
Thoughts.
Previously: Ryou's homeless and avoiding the others like the plague. Anzu's a liar, Honda's a teenage alcoholic.
Bleed Like Me --- Chapter 10
Ryou ran down the halls as the final bell rang, signifying his tardiness. He wasn't wearing his school uniform and looked extremely rumpled since he had spent the night curled up on a bench at the metro station (the good part about sleeping there, though, had been that in the morning he'd had a ride to school since there was still a alittle more money left on his metro card). Ryou also had the strong suspicion he had developed an unpleasant stench.
Nevertheless, he pushed that all from his mind as he stopped by his locker to retrieve his books and then ducked inside his designated classroom, hoping that the teacher would be too busy to notice his lack of punctuality or his appearance.
However, his hopes were dashed as he came to realize that the entire class was watching his entry. He kept his gaze glued to the floor as he shuffled to his seat. He could feel every gaze boring into him, each seemed to scurry beneath his skin and nestling there like a tic. He took out his text book and opened it to a random page, just so he'd have something to do as he attempted to ignore everyone else in the room.
At that moment, a meticulously folded piece of paper landed on the corner of his desk. He looked up, shocked, and glanced around the room. He blushed as his gaze collided with that of Bakura and Malik, who were seated in the very back of the class. He averted his eyes once more, guiltily, and brushed their note from his desk and onto the ground, where he stepped on it and ground the heel of his sneaker into the crackling paper. How could I have forgotten just how many classes I have with the three of them? He thought, cursing his lack of forethought.
It was then that the teacher finally snapped out of whatever daze had held her for the past few minutes. "Ryou!" she exclaimed, her voice was shrill and accusing.
"Yes, Sensei?" He asked, feigning innocence and pretending that nothing was amiss.
She didn't buy it, though. "Where is your uniform?"
"Not on me, Sensei."
Some of the class snickered, but Ryou instinctively knew that neither Bakura, nor Malik would be in the bracket. He could still feel staring at him, concentrating and hoping to catch some clue or signal as to what the deuce was going on.
"I won't take any sort of lip from you Ryou. Now I'll ask again and this time I better get a proper answer; where is your uniform?"
"I just had a very long weekend and wasn't able to wear my uniform this morning." Ryou explained, hoping that would be a reasonable enough explanation to placate his teacher.
She took a deep breath. Ryou was almost afraid that she would breathe out fire when she exhaled. But no such thing came to pass. She simply asked if he could go home to retrieve his uniform.
"No, Sensei." At this curt answer, his teacher began to look extremely pissed off. She moved towards the door and opened it.
She crooked a menacing finger at him. "Come with me."
"Yes, Sensei." Ryou rose from his desk and fought the urge to send Bakura a very sorry, worried look. Instead he stared at his shoes.
Once in the hallway his teacher pulled another teacher from their and the two conferred about what should be done with Ryou. A student in his state had no place in their prim establishment and he should go home, clean up, and then come back to finish out the school day. That was the gist of their conclusion. However, Ryou simply said "No, Sensei" at every turn hoping that they would just give up and let him continue on with the school day per usual.
"If you refuse to co-operate with us then we must send you home. We expect that you'll return tomorrow, though, properly attired and on time." One of the teachers said before prodding him towards the door.
Ryou sighed as the doors to the school slammed behind him. He dragged his feet gloomily as he started off down the street still staring downward at the dirt that smudged his sneakers. After rounding the corner, though, his stomach began to growl. It was then that Ryou remembered he hadn't eaten anything since the previous afternoon in the kitchen of Blood Tears.
He groaned as he turned the other way, in the direction of the club and began the long trek there. I hope Earl doesn't mind it if I come to work early today, he thought miserably
6969696969
Bakura was furious... and sorely confused. He had been up the majority of the night, along with Malik and Marik looking for Ryou. Then that little pissant showed up for school, looking half dead and dirty.
As his head cleared his confusion grew. Where the hell had Ryou been all that time? If he'd gotten into any trouble why not just call me? Tons of questions swirled through Bakura's mind and Malik wasn't really helping.
The blond was asking all sorts of questions of his own, which only intensified as their teacher returned to the room with no Ryou in tow. She offered no explanation either and just began the lesson. And when the bell rang, Bakura had been the first one to leave the class.
He left the school, after shaking Malik off with the excuse that could cover more ground without him. He fished around in his pocket for the spare key to Elliot-Bertha-Butch-Ishtar's (1) as he stepped beyond his own car and alongside the motorbike. He'd had the spare made while borrowing the motorcycle (without permission, of course) one afternoon, and couldn't be happier for it.
He turned the key in the ignition and peeled out of the parking lot, not yielding for the traffic. Ryou couldn't have gotten that far in three quarters of an hour.
Bakura was about half an hour into his search when the question finally arose, Why was he bothering? Ryou was just another kid, a cute as hell kid that he'd love to get between the sheets, but a nothing special kid nonetheless. Sure in the very recent past Bakura had managed to work Ryou into his life, but he was sure that with a little time and possible withdrawals, he could get Ryou out of his system. Just forget about him and go on with Marik and Malik, playing, working, fucking...
Who are you kidding, jackass? The tiny voice in the back of Bakura's head asked in a rude, crude voice. You've got it bad, it continued, becoming louder and more insistent with each word. You're going to look for him until you find him because you're not sure if you'd be content crawling back to just Marik and Malik, your tail between you're legs. Something drew you to that 'nothing special kid' and whatever the hell it is, it's not going to let go, just because you say it's over.
Bakura sighed heavily, damning internal monologue. He needed a drink, something, anything to clear the cobwebs from his sober mind. Maybe he could convince Earl to open shop early and serve him his usual sake or maybe something stronger, cognac maybe. Bakura licked his lips in anticipation of the amber liquid and sped down the street, as fast as traffic would allow, towards the bar. He relished the idea of drowning his current situation in liquor (2).
Upon arrival at the hole in the wall bar, plans changed. As he pulled down the way and towards the entrance of Blood Tears, he watched as a shock of white hair slipped in the door. He felt his cold, black heart do a little flip flop as he stopped the bike and hurriedly made his way inside the bar.
So much for him being a nothing special kid? smirked the voice in the back of his head, once again shrinking back into the recesses of his mind.
A tiny bell that he'd never taken the time to notice rang just above his head as he entered the seemingly empty bar. I wasn't imagining him. I'm too young to be senile. Bakura thought, pulling himself back to his usually confident and collected manner.
The majority of the room was dark. Each chair had been careful placed atop its table, so as to not scratch the finish. And at the bar, all the stools had been put up as well, except for two. The only lights on in the room were the overhead lamp at the bar and a dim glimmer coming from behind the curtain.
Bakura almost shuttered at the eerie feeling the club gave off when dormant like this.
He didn't have the time to dwell on his small case of heebie-jeebies, though, because at that moment a loud crash was heard from behind the curtain, it was accompanied by a stream of profanity.
Quickly, he hurried behind the bar and ducked within the recesses of the kitchen behind it. He watched amused as Earl kicked at one of the large metal pans that at his feet.
"Fucking cook ware." he mumbled, not having realized the other presence in the room.
"I hear ya." Bakura said, leaning up against a near by wall and striking a pose of complete and utter nonchalance. "It's always been a brute to me too. That's why I never cook."
Earl looked behind Bakura inquisitively, as if expecting to see someone come up behind him. "Have you come to collect our little friend?" He asked, bending once more to haphazardly stuff the pots and pans back into their cupboard. When Bakura said nothing Earl continued to speak, "He refused to take me up on that offer and stay here, but as soon as he walked in I insisted he go up and make good use of my couch. The kid looked half dead, you know." Earl paused for a moment, clearly not used to stringing so many words together at one time. "I wouldn't have hustled him into it if I'd known he was with you."
Bakura nodded and grinned at the other. "Yeah, he's with me. I'll be taking good care of him from here on out."
"Glad to hear it. He's a good kid and he's got a job here when -or if- he needs it." Earl pointed out as he brushed passed Bakura to show him the stairwell to the upper appato.
Bakura nodded and began his trek up the stairs, being careful to be as quiet as possible, in case Ryou was indeed asleep. He didn't really have a plan beyond cornering Ryou and trying to make him see the reason in staying with Bakura, given his current situation. Whatever that is, he wasn't really sure whether or not to be angry that Ryou had not confided in him about what ever was going on. But then decided to put it out of his mind until he was absolutely sure that Ryou was safe and sound. And Bakura was willing to do anything short of kidnapping to see that through... On second thought, maybe kidnapping is the best option here, Bakura mused as he pushed open the door at the top of the stairwell and let himself into Earl's front hall.
He tiptoed into the first room and practically sighed with relief as his gaze fell on Ryou's resting form. As he neared the couch he noticed the deep purple smudges beneath Ryou's eyes, which he hadn't quite processed before. Aside from that, Ryou looked adorable. A lock of snow white hair as fallen across his face, per usual and his pale facial features were smooth. His lips, which Bakura remembered being so soft and even as they slid against his own, were slightly chapped. It was nothing that couldn't be fixed with a bit of quality lip gloss; something Malik had an overabundance of -in Bakura's opinion (3)-. Ryou's thin hand clenched and relaxed in time with his slow breathing and the strong thump of his heart beat.
Bakura bit at his own lip anxiously for a second, devising the kindest way to wake his newest, and littlest koi from the rest he so desperately needed.
The tender moment was ended as Bakura snorted rudely and tossed back his mane of unruly hair, amazed at how soft he was getting. Regardless of that sentiment, he lent down and ever so gently and shook Ryou's shoulder. As the lids rose, reveling sleeply doe eyes, Bakura brushed the hair from them and tucked it behind hidden ears.
"Ba-" Ryou's yawned widely, but quickly covered his mouth for fear of being rude, "kura?"
"Hey." Bakura said softly, smiling in spite of himself. Ryou was so much the sweet, sleepy, innocent that he just couldn't help it. "Long time no see." He got to his feet and stepped away from the couch as Ryou made a move to get up.
He offered his hand and Ryou studied it for what seemed like an eternity. Clouds passed behind the soulful brown eyes and Ryou's small frame was wracked with a slight shiver, as if he was remembering something particularly unpleasant. With that he carefully averted his eyes to some far off corner of the room and got to his feet, just brushing away Bakura's extended hand.
"So..." Bakura shuffled his feet awkwardly. He felt so out of place, like maybe he shouldn't have bothered... Like maybe he was chasing wild geese and had imagined his affection for his miniature and vise versa.
Ryou said nothing; he just turned and bent to the couch. He picked up something and shook it vigorously, a jacket, Bakura realized as Ryou slung it around his own shoulders.
My jacket. He thought. The corner of his mouth began to tic with the need to upturn into a lopsided grin. "That's my jacket, you know."
Ryou blushed, but kept looking else where. "Would you like it back?" he asked timidly, making the move to take it off.
"No, no."
Ryou glanced up quickly, and curiously. "Then wh-"
"Keep it, I insisted." Bakura took a swift step forward and caught Ryou's chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing him to look up. "It looks much better on you anyways."
The smaller's blush deepened and he opened his mouth, working it, but no real sound came out for a moment or two. "Ba-bakura, please let go. I have some where I need to go."
"I think you're lying." Bakura said, mustering as much tact as possible for a person of his caliber. "I don't think you have anywhere to go at all. That's why Earl offered to let you sleep here." He paused. "But what I can't figure out, is why you didn't accept."
"It's none of your business." Ryou shot back, now fully awake and regaining his bearings, despite the other's closeness. "Let go Bakura." His voice was strong, but his eyes had a pleading softness around the edges that hadn't been there only a moment before.
"If you can explain this all to me, then I'll let you go and you can go back to Honda and Anzu's, or any other hell hole of your choosing." Bakura promised, taking one step forward and forcing one leg between Ryou's. Before the smaller had the time to effectively ward off his advances, Bakura hooked a heel around Ryou's ankle and pulled, tripping him up and forcing him to sit back down on the couch, with Bakura towering above him.
"Why are you doing this to me?" Ryou asked, his voice wavering a bit.
Bakura sighed, "Because I don't want you to be cold or lonely. Because Malik and Marik like you... Because I like you." He said slowly, adding weight and sincerity to each word. Damn it, Bakura swore internally, such a sap. But his mental diatribe was cut short as Ryou pushed him away and made his way towards the door.
But Bakura was quicker, his long legs ate up the carpeted floor and he caught Ryou around wrist. He yanked lightly which sent Ryou's slight frame tumbling back towards his own. Bakura caught his miniature in a clumsy embrace.
"Maybe I don't want you to like me!" Ryou cried into Bakura's shoulder. He sounded exhausted and as though he were about to burst into tears. But even though he wasn't returning Bakura's embrace, he wasn't exactly fighting against it either. Ryou's thin limbs were lax in the circle of Bakura's arms, like every muscle in his body had failed. "Maybe I don't like you." he said half heartedly as an after thought.
"You sure do know how to wound a guy's ego. First you run, and now you say you don't like me. I'm hurt." Bakura said his tone was playful, despite their current situation.
Ryou refused to lift his head from Bakura's shoulder, so his words were muffled by the fabric. "I'm sure that Marik and Malik would be more than happy to lick your wounds, and maybe even provide a band aid."
Bakura chuckled slightly; this was the Ryou he had started to know, and love, peeking out of his cave to play. "I'm sure they would." He paused for a moment, and lifted Ryou's head from his shoulder. He stroked Ryou's cheek absently with the rough pad of his thumb. "You know Ryou," he started slowly. He had to step lightly for this was uncharted territory, "that if you're hurt, they'd love to do the same for you... And so would I."
Sighing Ryou lay his head down once more, after rubbing up against Bakura's hand momentarily. "And sometimes that kind of stuff doesn't work. The damage is permanent."
"You'll never know if you don't let us try. And hell, if it doesn't work I'll just be a friend. Someone to turn to who just happens to have an extra bedroom or two." Bakura shrugged.
He wasn't particularly surprised by the fact that Ryou hadn't given much of a fight. His miniature had proven to be a scrappy one, but even the scrappy ones, used to the wear and tear of life, have to tire out sometimes. They need some where to crash and prefer to have someone to be there to keep watch and that's exactly what Bakura was offering. A haven.
Bakura slung his arms around the smaller's shoulder as they made their way towards the door.
"Alright, I'll stay. But only for tonight and I'll most likely be gone in the morning" Ryou promised as his hand flew up to stifle a yawn.
Bakura had to look away to hid his grin from his miniature.
They waved to Earl on the way out and promised to come back soon for a drink or two and some decent conversation. Ryou also promised to start work on Friday, even though Bakura was mouthing 'Don't count on it' over his shoulder to a very knowing looking Earl.
The two arrived at Bakura's house in no time. Once Bakura had Ryou settled on the couch he gave him a quick peck on the cheek, promising to dust out one of the guest rooms and get him better settled upon his return from an errand or two.
Bakura glanced at the clock on the way out the door and swore silently. He was running late, late, late for a very important study date... with Yugi (4).
Several questions were still whizzing in and out of his mind, each one having to do with Ryou, his past and his present. He was curious, and if Ryou wasn't going to tell him, he was going to have to employ more creative measure to get answers. And who better to ask than the best friend?
Footnotes:
(1) Remember, that's the name of Marik's motorcycle.
(2) Healthy sentiment, nyah?
(3) Personally, I love the idea of Malik having a ton of fruity flavored lip gloss at his finger tips. A different flavor for each mood.
(4) Reminder: Yugi was assigned as Bakura's tutor with the intent of setting him straight.
End Notes: So, who saw that coming? A raise of hands please. Oh, just about everyone? -laughs- My plot is rather transparent at this point, but I'm just trying to get back into the hang of this writing thing, and get you guys, as the readers back to the story. I also just realized that this is Chapter 10. The big 1-0. I feel rather proud, although originally I had assumed more would have happen by chapter 10, like... oh I dunno... man nookie! But all in good time I suppose. -smiles- On the next episode of "Bleed Like Me" Bakura will be getting in touch with his manipulative side and I'll be getting in touch with some very well loved, albeit overused clichés (and some not so used). 'Til next time folks...