Kano: And now it is time for a new point of view. Everyone can guess on
their own..you shouldn't need me to tell you who it is anyway. Oh, and
watch out for random cuss words.
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh. However, I do now own this lovely hunk of Colby-jack cheese. Yay! Cheese! Thankyou Itsame-kun!
- I am: Dichotomy - part 1 -
It was as much for his own safety as for anything that might have been gained on my part.
Not that I have gained very much.
But, yes. I had much to keep my Bakura safe from.
That indigo-haired Bastard known as his Father for one thing. How dare he ignore his own son, abandon this..fragile boy for months at a time.
I was the one who watched Bakura, night after night, a small frown on his lips, chin cupped in an open palm, staring out the window into nothingness.
I was the one who had to listen to him cry out for his Father as night as he tossed and turned in bed.
The days faded into weeks.
The weeks drug on into months.
I wanted to kill him. I wanted to rip the man's fucking head off and- but Bakura was so happy when his Father returned.
I couldn't do it.
I couldn't extinguish the light I saw in Bakura's eyes, forsake the pure joy I felt in his heart in the few days his Father could spare to be with him.
And yes, perhaps subconsciously, I awaited the day the man made a mistake. One slip up, anything to upset my reincarnation-and the archaeologist was mine.
My opportunity would come all too soon.
Bakura had been anxious that whole day. Of course, this was nothing new. He always became easily excited when his Father was due home.
Unfortunately, the day his Father was to arrive came and went. It wasn't until late the next night that the call from some obscure location in Egypt came through.
I watched in silence as Bakura's expression went from ecstatic to emotionless in only a few minutes. His expression reminded me of- well, say the Pharaoh's Brat had arrived at our house out of the blue and slapped Bakura. That was exactly how he looked.
I don't think I'll ever forget it.
At some point the conversation ended. Bakura hung up the phone slowly without saying goodbye and, careful to avoid my suspicious gaze, he made his way up to his room. I heard the bedroom door as it clicked softly shut behind him.
Bakura never shut his bedroom door.
I don't remember how long it was between the time I heard the door close and the time I was opening that door.
I didn't knock; I never knocked. There was simply no reason to. I knew Bakura inside and out. He belonged to me.
There was nothing he could hide from me.
I know now that this wasn't entirely true. There was so much that I didn't know about him..that now I might never know about him.
When I came into the room, he was huddled in a corner of his bed, trying not to cry in front of me. Needless to say, I was too angry to comfort him. I knew this had something to do with his Father, but the next thing he said confirmed it.
And then he began to quietly sob, and I left him to it.
He cried for a long time.
It wasn't until late that night, so late that what was today had actually become what tomorrow was yesterday, that I ventured back into his room.
Bakura was asleep, as well he should have been, and the tears had left translucent streaks running down his face.
I curled up there beside him on the bed, though my insubstantial body could offer him no warmth, tugging the blankets higher up around his shoulders.
No one got away with making Bakura cry.
No one.
When next he awoke, his Father would be dead.
-TBC
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh. However, I do now own this lovely hunk of Colby-jack cheese. Yay! Cheese! Thankyou Itsame-kun!
- I am: Dichotomy - part 1 -
It was as much for his own safety as for anything that might have been gained on my part.
Not that I have gained very much.
But, yes. I had much to keep my Bakura safe from.
That indigo-haired Bastard known as his Father for one thing. How dare he ignore his own son, abandon this..fragile boy for months at a time.
I was the one who watched Bakura, night after night, a small frown on his lips, chin cupped in an open palm, staring out the window into nothingness.
I was the one who had to listen to him cry out for his Father as night as he tossed and turned in bed.
The days faded into weeks.
The weeks drug on into months.
I wanted to kill him. I wanted to rip the man's fucking head off and- but Bakura was so happy when his Father returned.
I couldn't do it.
I couldn't extinguish the light I saw in Bakura's eyes, forsake the pure joy I felt in his heart in the few days his Father could spare to be with him.
And yes, perhaps subconsciously, I awaited the day the man made a mistake. One slip up, anything to upset my reincarnation-and the archaeologist was mine.
My opportunity would come all too soon.
Bakura had been anxious that whole day. Of course, this was nothing new. He always became easily excited when his Father was due home.
Unfortunately, the day his Father was to arrive came and went. It wasn't until late the next night that the call from some obscure location in Egypt came through.
I watched in silence as Bakura's expression went from ecstatic to emotionless in only a few minutes. His expression reminded me of- well, say the Pharaoh's Brat had arrived at our house out of the blue and slapped Bakura. That was exactly how he looked.
I don't think I'll ever forget it.
At some point the conversation ended. Bakura hung up the phone slowly without saying goodbye and, careful to avoid my suspicious gaze, he made his way up to his room. I heard the bedroom door as it clicked softly shut behind him.
Bakura never shut his bedroom door.
I don't remember how long it was between the time I heard the door close and the time I was opening that door.
I didn't knock; I never knocked. There was simply no reason to. I knew Bakura inside and out. He belonged to me.
There was nothing he could hide from me.
I know now that this wasn't entirely true. There was so much that I didn't know about him..that now I might never know about him.
When I came into the room, he was huddled in a corner of his bed, trying not to cry in front of me. Needless to say, I was too angry to comfort him. I knew this had something to do with his Father, but the next thing he said confirmed it.
And then he began to quietly sob, and I left him to it.
He cried for a long time.
It wasn't until late that night, so late that what was today had actually become what tomorrow was yesterday, that I ventured back into his room.
Bakura was asleep, as well he should have been, and the tears had left translucent streaks running down his face.
I curled up there beside him on the bed, though my insubstantial body could offer him no warmth, tugging the blankets higher up around his shoulders.
No one got away with making Bakura cry.
No one.
When next he awoke, his Father would be dead.
-TBC