Chapter 5
Starving

Bakura opened his eyes to be comforted by the familiar environment of the basement. The bandage that had been on his arm had been burned off and his injury was bleeding profusely. It was dark in the basement; apparently the sun had not risen yet.

Bakura sat up and held his bleeding arm. The blood dripped from between his fingers. He ripped off a strip of his bed sheet and wrapped it around his arm like a bandage. He felt as if a car had struck him. Placing his feet on the cold, hard floor, he thought that if he could feel Yami Bakura's heart, it would feel like that, cold and hard.

Bakura put on some clean clothes and headed up stairs yawning. He jiggled the doorknob and was surprised to find the door unlocked. Walking into the kitchen, he noticed in the dim light of dawn, the clock on the wall. It was a little after 5:00 in the morning. Bakura sat at the kitchen table and ran his fingers through his long silvery white hair, which shined in the pale light of the morning sun that had begun to come up over the horizon.

Realizing that if his aunt got up he would have no time to himself, Bakura began to ponder. "Why does this happen to me? Why doesn't Yami Bakura love me? Why does he hurt me? Maybe he doesn't understand that he is hurting me...not just physically, but in my heart too. I wish I could show him how I feel. And why does it feel like my heart is dying when he seems so cold? What is that feeling? Why does it hurt so much? It feels similar to the way I felt when my mother died...I loved her so much. But why do I feel this way with him? Why do I love my Yami, I have no reason to...he only causes me pain. He says that emotions make me weak...can it be true?"

A memory of Yami Bakura's face appeared in Bakura's mind, laughing at him. Bakura squeezed his eyes shut and put his hands on his chest. He fell off the chair and lied on the floor. "It hurts so much," Bakura thought to himself. "My heart's gonna burst if this keeps up," He said out loud, opening his eyes and gazing up at the ceiling.

He lied there for a few minuets, just staring at the ceiling and wishing he could die right there before he got up. Looking around the small kitchen he noted that the sink was full of dirty dishes in need of washing. Bakura washed the dishes with a sad look that could depress even the happiest of people. He began to cook breakfast for his aunt, an omelet, he didn't particularly like eggs but he knew that it didn't matter because he wouldn't be eating it anyways. He laid out the breakfast just as he heard his aunt stumbling down the stairs in her usual morning way.

Although he was not very fond of his aunt and he did not love her, he greeted her with a small and fake smile. She looked at him suspiciously, "What's wrong with you? Why are you gawking at me like that, Boy?" Her voice was marked with a harsh tone.

Bakura's fake smile faded and he turned away so as not to look her in the face. "Nothing is wrong, ma'am," Bakura said softly in his mild mannered voice. He began to clean the kitchen.

She watched him cautiously as she sat down and began to eat her omelet. Bakura just kept cleaning the kitchen, he didn't care that she thought he was trying something tricky he knew he wasn't.
"You're such a good boy." Bakura herd his aunt say sarcastically behind his back. "You take such good care of your poor old aunty." She got up and opened the refrigerator. "You deserve something...a reward." She started to dig through the refrigerator.

Out of curiosity Bakura turned around and watched his aunt rummage through the refrigerator. She pulled out the bone of the steak she had been eating for dinner the night before. Small strips of meat still hung from bone. "Want this?" She held the steak bone under Bakura's noise so that he could smell it.

Bakura tried not to think about how hungry he was but it was no use, he had not eaten in 3 days and now he could smell food and it was just within his reach. As he slowly outstretched his hand to take the steak bone, she smiled deviously and pulled it away. Bakura look at her sadly, he could feel the emptiness in his stomach.

"I'll give it to you if you promise to do something for me..." She wiggled the steak bone in Bakura's face. "You have to weed the garden." Bakura nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the bone. Bakura's aunt smiled, "Good boy!" She handed the steak bone to Bakura and continued with her own breakfast.

Bakura grazed on whatever meat was left on the bone. Bakura thought that it felt good to finally eat something, though it wasn't much.

Bakura was hard at work out in the garden after he had finished what his aunt called breakfast. The now risen sun beat upon his back. Sweat and dirt dripped down his face as he tore the weeds from the earth with his bare hands. The weeds were horrible green plants with thorns sticking out of the stems. The sharp thorns on the plants tore at Bakura's hands. The skin on his hands was torn and blood oozed out of the deep slits made by the plants he was pulling.

Bakura knew that just because his body was laboring, his mind didn't have to. His mind wandered away from the torture and pain his body was going through and settled down in a nice place far away. Thoughts of his mother before she died and his family together before he even knew of his Yami, before anything bad had happened and he was happy and healthy. Those were the thoughts that kept him going.

About 3 hours passed, the garden was lovely with its many flowers and not a single weed. Bakura stood back and gazed at his work. His body was drenched with a mixture of sweat, blood, and soil. His face was red and he breathed heavily as if he had just run the mile. Apparently he was overheated and was suffering from sunstroke.

Bakura's aunt came to look at his work. "It will do..." Bakura's aunt said in a cold manner. Bakura looked back at her, blood, sweat, and dirt dripping off him. Bakura's aunt looked at him with unfeeling eyes. "Have some water. I will allow you one cup." She held out a glass filled only half way with water.

Bakura walked up to his aunt and took the glass gratefully. "Thank you," He said looking into the glass of water. He slowly began to drink the water, which wasn't even cold. He finished what was in the glass and gave it back to her.

"I have nothing left for you to do," Bakura's aunt said taking the glass.
"You can go do anything you want as long as you don't come back into the house. Just be back in time to cook dinner. Now get out of my sight!" Bakura's aunt went back into the house and slammed the door in his face.

Bakura stood, staring at the door for a moment but finally walked off. He strolled down the side of the street. To where he was going, he was not certain; all he knew was that he was dripping with this nasty mixture of sweat, blood, and earth.

"Bakura," A friendly voice called from behind Bakura. Bakura looked over his back to see Yugi's friendly face. Yugi was sitting on his bike; next to him were Joey and Tristan on their bikes. Yugi looked concerned, "Bakura, what is all over you?"

Bakura shoved his scoured hands into his pockets and turned to face them. "I was doing some work for my aunt. It's just sweat and dirt," Bakura smiled nervously.

"Wait up, Guys," Tea called, rolling up behind Joey, Tristan, and Yugi on her roller blades.

"Hurry up then," Tristan said. Tea looked confused.
Yugi got off his bike and walked up closer to Bakura. "Bakura," Yugi said, "Why is that stuff on you a reddish tint?"

Bakura tried to think up a good excuse but he couldn't think of any. All that was left to tell was the truth. "It's blood," Bakura said looking away.

"Oh Bakura..." Yugi looked extremely concerned now, "Why are you covered in it? Where did it come from?"

Bakura slowly pulled his still bleeding hands from his pockets, "I was pulling weeds..."

Yugi, Tristan, Joey, and Tea stared wide-eyed at Bakura's chopped up hands.

Tea covered her eyes, "I can't stand the sight of blood!"

Joey turned around, "Shut up TŽa. Bakura needs our help here."

"Why didn't you use gloves if you were pulling weeds?" Tristan asked.

Bakura looked down at his bloody, cut covered hands, "My aunt doesn't want me to get her gloves messed up, so she doesn't let me use them."

Yugi looked at Bakura with tears growing in his eyes, "Bakura, how can you be treated like this?"

Bakura looked at Yugi and then at all the others, "I'm alright, it doesn't hurt." Bakura knew it was a lie because each and every slit in his skin stung and burned in the heat of the sun.

"It looks like it hurts..." TŽa said, uncovering her eyes and forcing herself to look at Bakura's hands. She shuddered at the sight of his blood.

"Really," Bakura continued, "I'll be fine, just a few little cuts, that's all. Go have fun." Bakura turned and attempted to walk away, but Yugi grabbed Bakura's sleeve. Bakura turned back around to see Yugi, on the verge of crying.

"Please Bakura...let me help you..." Yugi said, breathing like he was about to cry at any moment.

Bakura took a deep breath, "Alright Yugi, but I don't think that there's anything that you can do..."

"Come on Bakura," Yugi said turning his bike around, "You can take a shower at my house and I'll wash your clothes for you."

"Really, you don't have to..."

"Don't be so modest, Bakura," Tristan said, getting off his bike and turning it around.

"Yeah, come on Bakura, we're tryin' to help ya here." Joey got off his bike, turned it around, and began to walk it to Yugi's house along with Yugi, and Tristan.

"Please Bakura, you don't want to be covered in that nasty stuff, do you?" Tea spun around on her skates and followed Yugi, Tristan, and Joey.

"Not really..." Bakura said quietly as he began to follow.