oos: (waves) Hello! See? It wasn't that long afterall..... OH NO!!! This is the last chapter of Baka! NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
Psyche!
Hahahahha, j/k. It's the second to last. ^_~ On with the chapter! I hope you enjoy it.
*........* = Thoughts
Never in the Nine Hells....
"N-nani?" Bakura asked, actually stammering. His heart pounded in panic and disbelief.
"I think I know who Baka originally belonged to," The doctor patiently repeated on the other end of the line.
"Oh," The spirit replied faintly.
"The owner was once a client of mine, but switched to a different clinic a while back. I was playing golf the other day-"
Bakura sweatdropped. *So Ryou was right.....*
"- when I spotted a poster with his name on it. He was pleading for the return of his 6 month old beagle who had escaped from his yard a week before. Soon after you left, I realized the connection and called. I'd like you to give him a ring so that you can check it out."
The yami sagged against the wall, mind numb with shock. His hands strayed to the non-existant ring around his neck. 'Oh, I'd give him a ring all right, the /Millenium/ Ring!'
"Ryou-san?" Dr. Gordon inquired, concerned.
It took Bakura a moment to realize that 'Ryou-san' was himself.
"Gomen, I'm here." He made his voice like Ryou's to hide the trembles currently lurking in his own. "What's the owner's name and telephone number?"
"His name is Kyoden Takahama. His phone number is 939-645-1032."
"Arigatou for informing me." It was becoming more and more of a challange for Bakura to hold to his pretense.
"You're welcome. Onegai, contact me if you have trouble locating Takahama-san."
"I will. Bye."
"Goodbye."
The tomb raider slowly replaced the reciever in it's cradle and drifted over to the couch in a daze.
How could he be so crestfallen, so broken and upset now that this mutt was leaving? He had said it himself to Ryou, that he /wanted/ to get rid of Baka..... but now.... he wasn't so sure. The little beagle had grown on him ('Rather like a fungus.' Bakura thought wryly).
His mind turned up a prodigious amount of options. It was possible to ignore the doctor's call, as if it had never happened, or to run away with Baka and disappear from the world until Ryou returned. He could also change their apartment address; his hikari wouldn't mind too much, as long as he was informed of the move. But Bakura was avoiding the one choice he was dreading to even consider: The phone call to Takahama-san.
Groaning hopelessly, the yami stood, almost wearily, as though a great weight had been placed upon his body. His arm lifted gradually to the level of the phone and his hand was meticulously unclenching as he concentrated upon the action of each finger. Bakura knew that he must call the other owner.... but even as he recognized this need, his hand fell limply to his side and he sank slowly to the floor, eyes fixated on the pale, beige carpeting.
Bakura frowned, feeling his eyes burn. He was feeling.... something. It felt so familiar and within mind's grasp, but what could it be...? His question was soon answered as a wet drop of liquid fell to his cheek and ran down to his chin. The grave robber swiped at it in amazement and even looked up, expecting to see a hole in the ceiling where this could have originated. But there was only the dull color of the cheap plaster, unblemished by any mark or hole.
He was puzzled now, staring at the drop on his finger. Bakura raised it to his mouth, eyes crossed as he tried to see it at the same time. His tongue darted out quickly, washed over the finger, and recoiled in horror as a taste of salt refreshed his memory.
*Am I.... crying?*
Flabbergasted, the tomb raider was suprised to feel more tears rushing down his face and even a sob or two break from his gasping mouth. Bakura's shoulders shook uncontrollably and he automaticaly curled up into fetal position, burying his face in his knees.
*But.... why? Why now? I've /killed/ people and it hasn't hurt this much. I.... don't understand.*
An urgent bark interrupted his thoughts.
He raised his head, mind blank as he watched a sympathetic face appear over his knees. Baka put her paws on his chest and began licking up his tears, tongue soothing and reassuring.
*Thank Ra.... she'll get rid of these blasted tears,* Bakura thought, extremely relieved. But that relief was short-lived as the tears began falling even faster from his wide brown eyes.
*Stop!* He thought frantically, but his tear ducts were overloaded with millenias of built-up frustration and could be held back no longer.
Enjoying the salt, Baka continued to lick up the remnants of Bakura's tears while he attempted to stop.
It was about an hour before his eyes ran dry and even longer until after the hiccups ended, during which he watched tv, red-rimmed eyes staring past the screen. When the tomb raider could trust his voice again, he marched up to the phone and dialed the number before he lost his nerve.
As it was ringing, he panicked and gave up. Chiding himself on chickening out so easily, Bakura redialed and waited as the other line connected.
"Yeah?"
The yami swallowed heavily. "Takahama-san?"
"This is he."
"My name is Bakura Ryou.... and I believe I've found your dog."
"Oh, that's great." The man's voice was dripping with indifference. "Where was she?"
"Uh, the Newberry Park," Bakura answered, confused. Why hadn't Takahama-san asked him for confirmation, or even described the dog to see if it was the right one?
"Ah. I'll need to check if she's my dog. Could you bring her over tomorrow around 11:00 AM?"
The grave robber felt reassured by this formality. "Hai, that sounds fine."
"Good. See you then."
"Goodbye."
Bakura hung up, heaving a sigh. "Well. It's done." He told Baka, who had been sitting patiently at his feet the whole time. "You're going back to your real owner tomorrow."
The beagle cocked her head and blinked as if thinking carefully about something.
"I... won't see you from then on." He announced with minor difficulty. "It would be good if you stayed in your yard this time." The tomb raider added, attempting to sound sarcastic. He failed miserably.
It was silent in the kitchen as they both stared at each other. Baka knew he was lying, and so did Bakura.
"Yeah...." The yami said. "Sorry." He sat down on the couch and began flipping aimlessly through a magazine. Baka curled up next to him with a heavy, sorrow-filled groan that sounded so melancholy that Bakura had to wonder if she knew.
***
The next morning, the grave robber woke up early with a feeling of utter dread and despair.
*Maybe this is all just a bad dream and I'll wake up soon. I almost I wish I hadn't met that stupid inu....* Bakura rose from his bed, dressed slowly, meditavely, and ate breakfast with Baka in the same way.
It was with a heavy heart that he finally put his plate in the sink and strode towards the door. He looked back at Baka.
"Let's go," Bakura directed. The apartment door creaked in protest as he brutally shoved it open. He tied a leash around the beagle's neck and tugged reluctantly at it, but she dug her nails into the carpeting. Baka's rump hit the carpet with a soft WHUMPH as she eased back decisively onto her haunches. Her eyes bored into Bakura's, a silent plea the tomb raider found hard to ignore.
"Nani?" He grumbled. "We have to go!"
But Baka refused to move, and Bakura was forced to pick her up. He stomped out into the hallway, cursing and muttering foul obscenities under his breath. Baka lay quietly in his arms, resigned to a dark fate of which she knew was approaching, but had no details yet.
Bakura marched to the elevator and jabbed at the button several times, acting as patiently as he knew how; but after several minutes, the grave robber grew frustrated and took the stairs. This did nothing to improve his mood.
"Out of my way!" He growled menacingly to an old man who had taken more than his alloted time on each step. The man's eyes squinted feebly and focused on Bakura.
"You!" He croaked, stabbing his cane accusingly at the tomb raider.
"Me?" Bakura inquired, truely baffled.
"You stole my wallet!" The old man howled and lurched into a hobbling run at the white-haired youth.
"Shit!"
Bakura jumped down the Ra-cursed stairs three at a time. Baka barked excitedly in his arms, tail wagging furiously, and attracted the attention of the other occupants of the lobby while he sprinted past them.
"Shut up!" Bakura hissed urgently to her and she complied with a slightly wounded look. "Good girl," He reassured her and Baka's lips stretched into a grin.
Bakura found himself grinning giddily back as he burst - literally - through the revolving doors for the second time in three months. The glass shattered noisily around him, disturbing the quiet of the morning and shedding his skin in at least six places. He made sure to shield Baka carefully with his arms.
"Hey!" Some guy shouted after him. "What's wrong with you?"
Bakura spun around, his teeth revealed in a terrible parody of a smile. A cut where blood had been welling spilled over and ran down his arm, breaking contact at the elbow to drip onto the ground. The tomb raider caught the blood with his tongue and smeared it liberally across his teeth. He carefully picked up his lips and sneered again. The man staggered back a pace in a healthy mix of horrified digust and sudden fear.
"Everything." Bakura answered, and hauled butt, knowing some form of police or another would be chasing after him momentarily.
"Him! That's him!" The old man had finally limped out into the street, oblivious to the wreckage. He leaned heavily on his cane and tapped anxiously on the still-stunned young man's shoulder. "Excuse me, sir, but could you please chase after that boy for me? He's stolen my wallet!"
The other man threw him a terrified look. "Never in the Nine Hells would I ever see him again!" He cried, and fainted.
***
Long past the time when the sirens had faded into the distance, Bakura emereged from an alleyway, still licking a blood-covered arm.
*Thank Ra I left the apartment so early,* He thought, annoyed with all the trouble those stupid people had caused him.
Baka was nosing around in the grass nearby and unearthed a grasshopper. She yipped happily and began stalking it, her master looking on with an amused air. Baka growled, wiggling her behind in anticipation and pounced.
The grasshopper moved quickly, hopping at a furious pace to avoid the jaws of death. Baka followed it, tail a sweeping blur.
"Wait up!" Bakura protested and followed her with the lead dangling from his shoulder. He nearly stepped on Baka when he turned a corner. She had finally caught the insect and was eating it with great satisfaction.
*Little savage,* He thought fondly and scooped her up off the ground. *Now, let's see...* Bakura took out Takahama-san's address and squinted, shading his eyes to make out the street sign farther down the road. He was astounded to find them matching.
*But- how did I end up here? I zig-zagged back and forth so much that a /bird/ would have had difficulty in following me. What's the chance of this?*
He shivered, even in the warm sunlight, then shook himself. *How old am I, anyway? 10? No!! Just 5,000! It's just a coincidence. That's all....*
Baka squirmed free from his grasp and meandered aimlessly, her nose never leaving the ground. Bakura let her go and read the house number. He looked to the left. It was one too many. With a hunch, he looked despairingly to the right. One too less.
He looked straight ahead at the house whose yard Baka was investigating. The numbers matched. Bakura gulped.
If he had been Catholic, he would have crossed himself.
oos: Yay! Just one, /possibly/ two chapters left. I'm pretty sure it's going to be one, but it depends. So I'll cya guys later! ^_^
Psyche!
Hahahahha, j/k. It's the second to last. ^_~ On with the chapter! I hope you enjoy it.
*........* = Thoughts
Never in the Nine Hells....
"N-nani?" Bakura asked, actually stammering. His heart pounded in panic and disbelief.
"I think I know who Baka originally belonged to," The doctor patiently repeated on the other end of the line.
"Oh," The spirit replied faintly.
"The owner was once a client of mine, but switched to a different clinic a while back. I was playing golf the other day-"
Bakura sweatdropped. *So Ryou was right.....*
"- when I spotted a poster with his name on it. He was pleading for the return of his 6 month old beagle who had escaped from his yard a week before. Soon after you left, I realized the connection and called. I'd like you to give him a ring so that you can check it out."
The yami sagged against the wall, mind numb with shock. His hands strayed to the non-existant ring around his neck. 'Oh, I'd give him a ring all right, the /Millenium/ Ring!'
"Ryou-san?" Dr. Gordon inquired, concerned.
It took Bakura a moment to realize that 'Ryou-san' was himself.
"Gomen, I'm here." He made his voice like Ryou's to hide the trembles currently lurking in his own. "What's the owner's name and telephone number?"
"His name is Kyoden Takahama. His phone number is 939-645-1032."
"Arigatou for informing me." It was becoming more and more of a challange for Bakura to hold to his pretense.
"You're welcome. Onegai, contact me if you have trouble locating Takahama-san."
"I will. Bye."
"Goodbye."
The tomb raider slowly replaced the reciever in it's cradle and drifted over to the couch in a daze.
How could he be so crestfallen, so broken and upset now that this mutt was leaving? He had said it himself to Ryou, that he /wanted/ to get rid of Baka..... but now.... he wasn't so sure. The little beagle had grown on him ('Rather like a fungus.' Bakura thought wryly).
His mind turned up a prodigious amount of options. It was possible to ignore the doctor's call, as if it had never happened, or to run away with Baka and disappear from the world until Ryou returned. He could also change their apartment address; his hikari wouldn't mind too much, as long as he was informed of the move. But Bakura was avoiding the one choice he was dreading to even consider: The phone call to Takahama-san.
Groaning hopelessly, the yami stood, almost wearily, as though a great weight had been placed upon his body. His arm lifted gradually to the level of the phone and his hand was meticulously unclenching as he concentrated upon the action of each finger. Bakura knew that he must call the other owner.... but even as he recognized this need, his hand fell limply to his side and he sank slowly to the floor, eyes fixated on the pale, beige carpeting.
Bakura frowned, feeling his eyes burn. He was feeling.... something. It felt so familiar and within mind's grasp, but what could it be...? His question was soon answered as a wet drop of liquid fell to his cheek and ran down to his chin. The grave robber swiped at it in amazement and even looked up, expecting to see a hole in the ceiling where this could have originated. But there was only the dull color of the cheap plaster, unblemished by any mark or hole.
He was puzzled now, staring at the drop on his finger. Bakura raised it to his mouth, eyes crossed as he tried to see it at the same time. His tongue darted out quickly, washed over the finger, and recoiled in horror as a taste of salt refreshed his memory.
*Am I.... crying?*
Flabbergasted, the tomb raider was suprised to feel more tears rushing down his face and even a sob or two break from his gasping mouth. Bakura's shoulders shook uncontrollably and he automaticaly curled up into fetal position, burying his face in his knees.
*But.... why? Why now? I've /killed/ people and it hasn't hurt this much. I.... don't understand.*
An urgent bark interrupted his thoughts.
He raised his head, mind blank as he watched a sympathetic face appear over his knees. Baka put her paws on his chest and began licking up his tears, tongue soothing and reassuring.
*Thank Ra.... she'll get rid of these blasted tears,* Bakura thought, extremely relieved. But that relief was short-lived as the tears began falling even faster from his wide brown eyes.
*Stop!* He thought frantically, but his tear ducts were overloaded with millenias of built-up frustration and could be held back no longer.
Enjoying the salt, Baka continued to lick up the remnants of Bakura's tears while he attempted to stop.
It was about an hour before his eyes ran dry and even longer until after the hiccups ended, during which he watched tv, red-rimmed eyes staring past the screen. When the tomb raider could trust his voice again, he marched up to the phone and dialed the number before he lost his nerve.
As it was ringing, he panicked and gave up. Chiding himself on chickening out so easily, Bakura redialed and waited as the other line connected.
"Yeah?"
The yami swallowed heavily. "Takahama-san?"
"This is he."
"My name is Bakura Ryou.... and I believe I've found your dog."
"Oh, that's great." The man's voice was dripping with indifference. "Where was she?"
"Uh, the Newberry Park," Bakura answered, confused. Why hadn't Takahama-san asked him for confirmation, or even described the dog to see if it was the right one?
"Ah. I'll need to check if she's my dog. Could you bring her over tomorrow around 11:00 AM?"
The grave robber felt reassured by this formality. "Hai, that sounds fine."
"Good. See you then."
"Goodbye."
Bakura hung up, heaving a sigh. "Well. It's done." He told Baka, who had been sitting patiently at his feet the whole time. "You're going back to your real owner tomorrow."
The beagle cocked her head and blinked as if thinking carefully about something.
"I... won't see you from then on." He announced with minor difficulty. "It would be good if you stayed in your yard this time." The tomb raider added, attempting to sound sarcastic. He failed miserably.
It was silent in the kitchen as they both stared at each other. Baka knew he was lying, and so did Bakura.
"Yeah...." The yami said. "Sorry." He sat down on the couch and began flipping aimlessly through a magazine. Baka curled up next to him with a heavy, sorrow-filled groan that sounded so melancholy that Bakura had to wonder if she knew.
***
The next morning, the grave robber woke up early with a feeling of utter dread and despair.
*Maybe this is all just a bad dream and I'll wake up soon. I almost I wish I hadn't met that stupid inu....* Bakura rose from his bed, dressed slowly, meditavely, and ate breakfast with Baka in the same way.
It was with a heavy heart that he finally put his plate in the sink and strode towards the door. He looked back at Baka.
"Let's go," Bakura directed. The apartment door creaked in protest as he brutally shoved it open. He tied a leash around the beagle's neck and tugged reluctantly at it, but she dug her nails into the carpeting. Baka's rump hit the carpet with a soft WHUMPH as she eased back decisively onto her haunches. Her eyes bored into Bakura's, a silent plea the tomb raider found hard to ignore.
"Nani?" He grumbled. "We have to go!"
But Baka refused to move, and Bakura was forced to pick her up. He stomped out into the hallway, cursing and muttering foul obscenities under his breath. Baka lay quietly in his arms, resigned to a dark fate of which she knew was approaching, but had no details yet.
Bakura marched to the elevator and jabbed at the button several times, acting as patiently as he knew how; but after several minutes, the grave robber grew frustrated and took the stairs. This did nothing to improve his mood.
"Out of my way!" He growled menacingly to an old man who had taken more than his alloted time on each step. The man's eyes squinted feebly and focused on Bakura.
"You!" He croaked, stabbing his cane accusingly at the tomb raider.
"Me?" Bakura inquired, truely baffled.
"You stole my wallet!" The old man howled and lurched into a hobbling run at the white-haired youth.
"Shit!"
Bakura jumped down the Ra-cursed stairs three at a time. Baka barked excitedly in his arms, tail wagging furiously, and attracted the attention of the other occupants of the lobby while he sprinted past them.
"Shut up!" Bakura hissed urgently to her and she complied with a slightly wounded look. "Good girl," He reassured her and Baka's lips stretched into a grin.
Bakura found himself grinning giddily back as he burst - literally - through the revolving doors for the second time in three months. The glass shattered noisily around him, disturbing the quiet of the morning and shedding his skin in at least six places. He made sure to shield Baka carefully with his arms.
"Hey!" Some guy shouted after him. "What's wrong with you?"
Bakura spun around, his teeth revealed in a terrible parody of a smile. A cut where blood had been welling spilled over and ran down his arm, breaking contact at the elbow to drip onto the ground. The tomb raider caught the blood with his tongue and smeared it liberally across his teeth. He carefully picked up his lips and sneered again. The man staggered back a pace in a healthy mix of horrified digust and sudden fear.
"Everything." Bakura answered, and hauled butt, knowing some form of police or another would be chasing after him momentarily.
"Him! That's him!" The old man had finally limped out into the street, oblivious to the wreckage. He leaned heavily on his cane and tapped anxiously on the still-stunned young man's shoulder. "Excuse me, sir, but could you please chase after that boy for me? He's stolen my wallet!"
The other man threw him a terrified look. "Never in the Nine Hells would I ever see him again!" He cried, and fainted.
***
Long past the time when the sirens had faded into the distance, Bakura emereged from an alleyway, still licking a blood-covered arm.
*Thank Ra I left the apartment so early,* He thought, annoyed with all the trouble those stupid people had caused him.
Baka was nosing around in the grass nearby and unearthed a grasshopper. She yipped happily and began stalking it, her master looking on with an amused air. Baka growled, wiggling her behind in anticipation and pounced.
The grasshopper moved quickly, hopping at a furious pace to avoid the jaws of death. Baka followed it, tail a sweeping blur.
"Wait up!" Bakura protested and followed her with the lead dangling from his shoulder. He nearly stepped on Baka when he turned a corner. She had finally caught the insect and was eating it with great satisfaction.
*Little savage,* He thought fondly and scooped her up off the ground. *Now, let's see...* Bakura took out Takahama-san's address and squinted, shading his eyes to make out the street sign farther down the road. He was astounded to find them matching.
*But- how did I end up here? I zig-zagged back and forth so much that a /bird/ would have had difficulty in following me. What's the chance of this?*
He shivered, even in the warm sunlight, then shook himself. *How old am I, anyway? 10? No!! Just 5,000! It's just a coincidence. That's all....*
Baka squirmed free from his grasp and meandered aimlessly, her nose never leaving the ground. Bakura let her go and read the house number. He looked to the left. It was one too many. With a hunch, he looked despairingly to the right. One too less.
He looked straight ahead at the house whose yard Baka was investigating. The numbers matched. Bakura gulped.
If he had been Catholic, he would have crossed himself.
oos: Yay! Just one, /possibly/ two chapters left. I'm pretty sure it's going to be one, but it depends. So I'll cya guys later! ^_^