Ever notice how Yami Bakura's got this thing for blood? Well, anyway, that's what this revolves around; I was bored. Actually, I'm rather fond of the stuff myself, though not quite as intensely he is.

Disclaimer: Yuugiou wa atashino janaiyo. Desukara, atashi wa totemo kanashii. [Yu-Gi-Oh is not mine, you know. Therefore, I am very sad.] See, sensei? I've been practicing my Nihongo!

Of Blood and Hikaris

I am an unfortunate yami, to say the least.

You, dear reader, have no idea how depressing it is to live day in and day out with a hikari who doesn't like blood. Sadly, my Ryou is very squeamish. I cut my finger on a paper cutting mini-double-knifey thingy today. (My hikari calls them sizzers or something. I wouldn't know; we didn't have them back in my day.) You'd think I'd severed my hand for the scream he gave before passing out cold. Fortunately, we were working on our project in the kitchen, so I didn't have much trouble hauling him to the couch in the next room.

My mistake was not washing my wound first. So I got blood on his sweater and a little on his face when I poked him to see if he was really unconscious. Well, the moment he came to, he bolted back into the kitchen and washed off the blood, shivering. Then he pulled off the sweater to let it soak. I watched the proceedings with a little amusement while sucking on my wounded finger.

Ryou finally remembered to breathe slowly in…out…in…out. He pulled some hydrogen peroxide and band-aids from a cabinet and offered to bandage the cut. Naturally, I refused. "At least take your finger out of your mouth," he insisted.

I stared at him. "Are you crazy? I'd end up wasting good blood on some useless piece of gauze instead!"

"Isn't that the point?"

"No way! This stuff tastes awesome!"

He recoiled. "You like it?"

"Yeah. Want some?" I was in a generous mood or I wouldn't have offered my hikari the chance to get a little variety. I mean, I'm top quality type A, aged since around 1350 BC. Come on, you can't get better than that.

And my hikari refused.

Now, he calls himself a culinary connoisseur, but all he does is make nasty-tasting stuff from places with names like Azerbaijan and Suriname. Yet he won't even try cream of the crop Egyptian blood.

Trust me, I know mine's good. I've had others to compare against. Back in Egypt, the pharaoh pointed dramatically to me as he announced my sentence. (He was always given to excessive gestures. Has anyone else noticed that?) My hands were tied, so, with no other options, I bit him. It was his fault for coming too close. Anyway, he tasted gross. Of course, knowing the pharaoh, he probably hadn't had a decent bath in years. But, bleghh, I feel nauseous just remembering.

Pegasus's, on the other hand, wasn't so bad. I licked his blood off of the Sennen eye just after I dug it from his socket. Mine definitely has a more sophisticated taste to it, though. Excuse me if I just drooled; if you're anything like me (meaning that you appreciate good flavor,) you probably just did too.

Ryou's I got on my hands when I helped him after he crashed his bike. I licked it off when he wasn't looking (as I said, he's very squeamish.) His blood tastes a lot like mine, but without quite the same touch of spice. Of course, that is to be expected. He was always rather mild.

Back to the original subject, not only did Ryou refuse, but he seized the chance to grab my outstretched hand and start cleaning the wound. I yelped when he used the hydrogen peroxide, but I'm thankful he hadn't tried the alcohol. That's even worse. Sometimes, I wish I had gotten a hikari who understands the merits of blood. But then again…

I grin evilly and twist my arm just a little so I can wipe my cut finger on the front of his starched, white, collared shirt. I listen to him squeal and watch him scuttle off for the stain remover as I put my finger back into my mouth.

Of course, the delicate hikaris are entertaining too.

Owari