Ah, greetings all. I came up with this fic for the Rare Fic Hunter Challenge #1, over at Kokoro no Naka. The basic premise was a consensual Bakura/Yami Bakura romance-y . . . thing. So I thought "Why not?" and wrote this. I'm not sure if it's very romance-like at all, because this is practically my first attempt XD. But hey, there's a first time for everything, so I hope you enjoy what I've got!
BTW, this is a one-shot. Meaning, single chapter ONLY. It's amazing how often people don't understand that tag.
I do not own YuGiOh nor anything affiliated with it.
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The Ties That Bind
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Sitting in my soul room has never been entertaining. Perhaps it's because it reflects my personality, but there is really very little to occupy myself with while I'm in there. The walls are white. The floor is grey. The roof is . . . well, I suppose it is black, but it's also dusted with stars. The roof (or lack of, I suppose) is the most interesting thing in my soul room, which is odd. I assume it's odd, at least.
I notice these things about my soul room because I spend a great deal of time in here. Rarely of my own free will. Lately, that had changed, but my latest visit was an unpleasant reminder of the way things used to be.
Sprawled on the floor, looking up at the 'stars', I was in turmoil. It had been at least twenty minutes since I had been shunted out of control of my body, and sealed into my soul room. It was beginning to bother me.
"Why is he doing this again?" I asked the roof despondently. No reply. I couldn't understand my yami. I had thought that I was beginning to get a grasp on what he was about, but I must have been mistaken. After all, I had only been aware of him for a few months.
Before, I hadn't known he was there. All I knew was that I had distressing black spaces in my memory, which no amount of thinking could recall. I hadn't thought them too bad at first; perhaps I was just absent-minded. But no, of course that wasn't it. That wasn't it at all. The gaps grew in frequency, and I began to notice strange things. A moved chair, scattered cards, new figurines. I had not done those things. And yet I must have, mustn't I? Nobody else lived with me. I still dismissed it. I even chose to look the other way when Yuugi and his friends started treating me like a hazard, and asking me sporadically if I was okay. I just preferred to think I was imagining things.
But even I could not deny the reality when he suddenly made himself known to me. I don't know why he decided to show himself . . . I probably never will. He did though. And I remember how bizarre it was, to be seeing a translucent image of myself standing opposite me, made all the more strange by his demeanor and actions. It certainly explained a lot though. He informed me – rather tersely – what he was. Then it all made sense. The memory gaps, the moved furniture . . . it had all been this. This . . . apparition, though I suppose a more fitting term would be spirit. Apparitions don't possess you.
Along with this, he laid down what he called rules. Rules regarding the use of my body, amongst other things. I was not to question him when he took possession of me, and in return he would only do it when the situation called for it. I was not to touch him. I was not to enter his soul room. It was rather hard to accept at first; surely I should be the only person allowed to use my own body? But I felt it would be better for everyone if I agreed to his terms. I didn't want to offend him, as that seemed to be a rather hazardous thing to do. He even said he would tell me when he was about to assume control. Of course, that amounted to him declaring "I am taking over" a split second before he did so. But I appreciate being granted that much.
The first few times he took over after I knew about him, I was terrified, because now I knew what was going on. That's illogical, I know, to be more scared. But I was afraid now because I was aware of what he was capable of. Now I knew what he did, and I suppose there must have been a sort of innocent mindless bliss in being unable to explain it before. So I was afraid. I began to avoid people and public places, constantly worrying about what the spirit of the Ring might be planning. This did not please him.
The second time he appeared before me, I thought I was in for it. He looked so angry. He always does. He shouted at me for being cowardly, and for narrowing his options, but strangest of all, for betraying his trust. "Your trust?" I asked him. "What do you mean?" Turning his back on me, he faced the wall.
"I made a conscious decision to inform you of my existence. I did not need to, and nor was it in my interests to do so. It may have been very foolish of me, in hindsight. Does that mean nothing?" he demanded, rounding on me with a furious glare. "I could have continued doing things as I have been, without ever letting you become privy to it. In other words, Bakura, I decided to trust you. And you have not trusted me in return!"
I was shocked at this statement, and then I was appalled at myself for failing to realize this. I had to weigh all this up, and in the end I found that, if he was willing to trust me, then surely I should do the same in return? It seemed so simple.
And so I did. I – or we, I should say – resumed 'normal' life. Eventually I grew to have a more solid trust in my yami, and we had even talked on some occasions. They were very few, and short, but it was something. Mostly it involved listening to him rage about Yuugi and the Millenium Items, and I would offer some suggestions, usually to be shot down because he'd tried them already. But still . . . it was something.
Yet this time in my soul room, the old feelings of nervousness and worry were rekindling inside me. He had become distant, more distant than usual. We hadn't spoken in weeks, and now . . . he had locked me in my soul room without warning. He had not done that since before I knew of him. I had been out shopping, and passed by the museum on the way back home. I had glanced over at the billboard, advertising a new Egyptian exhibit. The next thing I knew, I had been thrown into my soul room and was unable to get out, not even into the corridor.
I rolled over and moved into a sitting position. So why? Why did he do that so suddenly, so harshly? The only conclusion I could reach was that he was up to something. Something that he did not want me to know about. The thought was frightening. Unraveling my shoelace, I did it up again, only to unravel it once more. I wanted to trust him . . . but if he did things like this, I couldn't. I've never dealt well with spontaneity. And my yami is as spontaneous as they come.
A sudden noise broke through my musings. I jerked my head up in time to see the door of my soul room swing open, and the spirit of the Ring walked in. I averted my gaze to a point just left of him. He strode in a little ways, then halted.
"You may return to your body now." I nodded once, still not looking at him, and got up from the floor. I made my way towards the door, feeling his gaze on me the whole time. I tried not to let him see my face, because I wasn't sure myself what that would show.
"Wait," he said sharply as I passed him. I froze. "Well?" I turned my neck enough to see him, focusing on the cord of the Ring around his neck.
"What is it?" I asked. I couldn't react fast enough when he moved to place himself before me, so I found myself looking at him without meaning to. His face was hard, suspicious.
"You are hiding something." The accusing glare was too much, and I glanced away again, staring at the featureless wall. "Why won't you look at me?!" he shouted suddenly, seizing my chin and forcing my eyes back to his. I gulped, feeling his long nails pressed into my skin. "Why are you avoiding my gaze?" he asked angrily.
"I'm not," I said pathetically, even as I was trying to avoid his gaze. I can be so ridiculous sometimes. He scowled, showing teeth for a moment.
"Do not lie to me, host. Why are you avoiding my gaze?" He wasn't going to relent until he got an answer. But I couldn't tell him that I didn't trust him anymore. That would send him into a rage, probably more so than last time. I managed to break out of his grip, but in return met his eyes.
"Because I . . . don't know what you've been doing," I said finally, mentally tensing in anticipation of an outburst. He looked as though he'd just been insulted.
"That is no reason to act like a wounded dog! I need not tell you my business; it is my own."
My temper is virtually non-existent, but he managed to make it flare. "It could have been anything then, couldn't it! You've been gone for nearly half an hour, and you're capable of doing heaps in that amount of time."
"Are you accusing me?" he hissed dangerously.
"I'll bet you went into that library. What was so important about it that you needed to throw me into my soul room with no explanation?"
"It is none of your concern!"
"It is!" I yelled. "How can I trust you if I don't know when you'll do that to me?!"
"You do not trust me?!" he yelled, fury dancing in his eyes. Without thinking it through, without considering what it would do to the fragile bond I had made with him, I shouted my answer back.
"No, and I never did!"
He looked utterly mutinous. I'm quite sure if it had been possible, he would have 'abandoned ship', so to speak. But that wasn't an option, and he knew it. Before I could even frame a response, let alone apology, he blurred out of my soul room. I heard the wham of his door slamming shut even as I came running.
"Wait, you don't understand!" I shouted, hammering on the dark stone door. It was shut tight, and no amount of pummeling was going to get it open. I kept hitting it anyway. "Open the door!"
"Make yourself scarce," came the angry reply, muffled by the heavy stone. "I do not wish to discuss it any further."
"Come on, please," I pleaded, desperately reaching for the doorknob. It was then I realized that the doorknob had vanished. Groaning in frustration, I started kicking the door as well. I knew it wasn't doing any good, but logic isn't very important in some situations. "Let me in!"
"You know you are not allowed in here," he shouted back. "Why do you even think I would change that now?"
"Bakuraaa, please." That prickling sensation entered my stomach; the signal that my nerve was failing.
"Do not call me that! That is your name, not mine!"
I froze up and stared at the door. He's never said that before, he never used to mind, not this much . . . God, what have I done? I stopped beating my fists against the door and tried to gulp back that awful hotness that was threatening to spread. I'm no good at this, I'll never be strong enough to fix what I've done wrong. I don't even really know what I've done. But that hurt so much . . . . That's your name, not mine! Shutting my eyes tight, I yell at the door again.
"Well maybe that's how I think of you! Maybe that's what you mean to me! And maybe you don't understand that!" Silence. Now that I'd started, it was all going to come crashing out of me with no hope of stopping it. "You look exactly like me. You share space in my own head. You might not be me, but sometimes I think you are. I don't know why, and I know it's stupid. You aren't me and you never will be. But I had to think of you in some way, had to explain it somehow . . . it's not easy to accept there's a – a spirit, or something living inside of you, without trying to convince yourself that it's not true. So I – I call you my name because I don't know what else to call you."
Still nothing. He wasn't listening. "I call you master because that's what you want. Who am I to argue with you? I'm just the host," I choked out, aware of the tears starting to form in my eyes. "Just the host. I'm yours, and nothing will ch-change that. So I don't know why y-you seem threatened by the idea th-that I might not trust you." I turned around and scrubbed hastily at my face. "I – I accept you, and what you do . . . nobody else w-will." Sliding down the door, I land with a soft thud and wrap my arms around my legs, hugging myself tight. The corridors were cold, always cold. "A-and . . . nobody else will . . . will care about me," I finished pathetically, no longer able to hold myself back from sobbing.
I don't know how long I cried in that soul corridor on my own. Time takes on strange meanings in the realm of magic. It felt like an age and a half though, spent only with my own guilt and troubles. He was going to leave now, I knew that. He'd stay in that room forever, leaving me bereft of his presence, or use me one last time to find a new host. One who was not as weak, one who could fulfil his purposes. And when he did go, for the last time, I knew that I would never leave the corridor. Not because I couldn't. Because I didn't want to.
People need contact with others to make their existence. Friendship, love, family . . . those sorts of things. I felt like I'd never had any. Even though I realize that my mother and Amane loved me, and they were my family, I couldn't count those feelings anymore. They were memories. Relics, ashes, dust. I couldn't even count my father; he may have loved me still, but he wasn't there. He couldn't confirm it in those sporadic letters he sent, every few months or so. Yuugi and his friends, I couldn't count them either. They liked me well enough, but so do many others. And I'm just the dangerous baggage, the ticking time bomb that could make everything go wrong.
Everybody leaves me, I thought over and over, weeping all the while. Everybody leaves me.
I did not notice the click and faint vacuum of air behind me. I had shut down, in a manner of speaking. Gotten myself caught in a loop of insecurity that kept revolving around my mind. Normally I ignore it. But they say that if you don't pay attention to something, it comes back and hits you tenfold. I suppose they were right, whoever they were.
There was a slight scuff, which for one reason or another brought me out of it a little. I didn't move though. I just stayed curled up, and just kept crying. He was leaving, he was going down the corridor to take the helm and escape me . . .
Wait. I hadn't heard any footsteps. I didn't want to torture myself further so I pushed the thought out of my mind.
"You believe me to be a part of you?" I jerked in surprise, opening my sore eyes. He was somewhere behind me, where the door was.
"I-In a way, yes," I whispered. "In a way . . . no." I wasn't making sense, even I knew that. The only reason I was answering was in the vain, stupid hope that he would stay a little longer. I sensed rather than heard him shift.
"Why does it hurt you to think I was offended by your distrust?" he asked, seeming to be genuinely curious. No, I wouldn't answer him. It was hardly possible, but I gripped myself tighter, withdrawing again. There was a grunt of annoyance, and the obvious sounds of him moving around to place himself before me. "Why does it hurt?" he said again, much closer than I'd expected. He was on my level! I was more scared than ever. His actions didn't make sense to me, were different from usual, and it was hard enough to work out his normal habits. So I didn't answer.
Oddly, I heard him sigh in exasperation. And then he was prying my arms away from my legs. Feeling it would be hopeless to resist, I just let him. My arms dropped down, and I lowered my knees enough to see him.
He stared back at me passively, kneeling before me. It was a very strange look for him. But it was surely nothing compared to how I looked. I was a mess inside, and I couldn't have looked much better outside. I continued to sniff back my sobs; random tears sliding down my face.
"I will ask you once more," he said, tilting back his head slightly. "Why does it hurt you so?"
I tried to think of a decent response; one that would adequately answer the question without making myself look foolish. But I couldn't come up with one, and so I was left with the truth. "Because I don't trust you . . . and now you're going to leave," I said softly.
He said nothing, and didn't react. I watched him, knowing the moment of his departure was near. This was really it. I would truly be alone now. And what would that make me?
Abruptly, he started to move, and I reacted instantly. "No!" I cried desperately, and flung my arms around him. I held on for dear life, hugging him as though it was the only thing that mattered, and began sobbing anew. "No, don't go! I don't want you to leave, I don't want to be alone again, please don't go," I stammered into his hair. "I won't argue anymore, I won't question you, you can take my whole body . . . just don't leave."
I lapsed into shaking silence, feeling my hands grip at his shirt; the same shirt I wore. My yami must have been surprised by my brashness, for he hadn't moved at all. And then I felt him shift underneath me.
He put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me back, but not roughly. Just enough to look at me properly. Apprehensively, I met his intense gaze, fully aware that I had just broken one of the strictest rules: do not touch. I couldn't tell if he was angry or not. He was always angry, and so always had the same expression, just differing in extremity. However, he was merely looking at me. I swallowed nervously.
"If there is anything left on this earth, made of flesh and blood and soul, that still matters to me, it is you." I stared at him, dumbfounded. "You are my host," he said sternly. "Mine." The sincerity in his eyes was wholly unexpected. "And I am not leaving you."
It felt like somebody had sucked the breath out of me and left me floating. Lying ,lying, he's lying, whispered the disbelieving part of me that had been hurt too many times before. But no . . . he wasn't. I could tell.
Before I had even consciously thought about it, I had closed the distance between us and was kissing him. It was the most dangerous thing I had ever done. And the most exhilarating. The instant my lips touched his, I felt him go rigid against me. I paid no heed, and for a few seconds, I was free of my worries and my thoughts.
My eyes snapped open as I realized just what I was doing, and broke apart from him, breathing harshly. I didn't regret it . . . but I didn't know what he would do.
He, with his wild flaring hair, and reputation feared across distance and time, was staring at me in utter shock. I had never seen that expression on his face before. Not the shock of being thwarted in battle; no, it was something different. I managed to connect with his dark brown eyes, unconsciously waiting for the next move. It seemed to last forever, that one moment when he and I were frozen, one from disbelief and the other from anticipation.
And then he moved.
With blinding speed he threw his arms around my back and began kissing me forcefully. His hold on me was strong and unrelenting, and where he had frozen, I went limp in his embrace. I welcomed it wholeheartedly. Fingers dug into my skin, and he kissed me so hard it was almost savage. It was desperate, hungry passion.
In the throws of his embrace, I began to kiss him back with equal force, twining my fingers into his hair. We were both fighting for dominance, and both submitting to the dominant. Negative and positive, right and wrong, light and dark; all these things at once burning through our contact.
Something amazing happened, something that I cannot properly explain. The two of us, our separate minds and consciousnesses, merged somehow in the midst of this. It was so powerful that I could literally hear his thoughts, and he mine. They tangled into a howling tornado of emotions that barely made sense.
Don't leave me – I need you – fear – contact – the love of another – passion – break me – you are me – I am you – help me find myself – I want to die – burning – isolation – two as one – eternity alone – fires of heaven – oh Gods – break and rebuild me – I cannot live alone – I will never leave you – I don't want to – I trust you – don't let go – mercy – fulfil me – broken soul – I love you . . .
Eventually, it ended. I don't know how long it lasted. Time . . . is irrelevant. I wrenched myself away from him, and he broke apart from me. Exhausted, I dropped my head onto his shoulder and gasped for breath, still clinging around his neck with my arms. I felt his head fall onto my opposite shoulder, as he still held onto my back with limp fingers. We were both burning with emotion and exertion, and could only anchor ourselves to reality by the tingling contact we maintained. I felt his panting breath stir my long hair, and could only process these rudimentary sensations.
Perhaps it was because we were in the corridor between our soul rooms, and perhaps it was the power of the Ring. Once again, I don't know for sure. And, nor do I care. All I know, is that I was at peace for the first time in years. The mental link forged between us had been severed when we broke apart, so I don't know how he felt either. But I can guess. And I'm guessing, that for all his apparent anger and hostility and dark intentions . . . he is not so different from me.
He didn't want to be alone either.
I stirred at last, waking from a sort of slumber. I slowly slid my arms back from around him, and lifted my head. He remained on my shoulder for a few moments more, and I could not see his face. Then he moved as well, and pulled back from me, separating us entirely. His expression was carefully neutral. I didn't avoid his eyes this time. I didn't express myself either; it wasn't necessary.
In a single movement we got up from the floor of the corridor between our soul rooms. He motioned towards the end of it in darkness to the left. "You may return and rest." I nodded once, watching him.
"Yes." I walked a few steps down the corridor, and then turned back. I saw him move into his soul room, and shut the door behind him.
But before he did, I caught sight of the stars that shimmered on his ceiling.
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Reviews, comments, flames? Do tell what you thought. As well as being my first attempt at romance, it's got the double bonus of being my first shonen-ai. Fun fun. I hope I was in-character. I'm not well-versed with Bakura's personality. Anyway, till the next time I randomly appear!
- Vappa