oos: Hey all! (looks guilty) You guys are SO going to hate me after this chapter!
^_^;; Anyway....
I'm not actually sure how long it will be until this gets online. My computer's internet connection is currently broken at the moment I'm typing this (X_x), so I've been suffering, too, /believe me/!
Thanks for those readers who have been with me from the start. I might have stopped writing this if it weren't for you. Although I didn't get as many reviews for this as for Soul Mates, I personally think Baka is better written and more mature. I've never been kissed, but I have lost pets, so maybe it has to do with the whole life experiance thing.
Ignore my musings and enjoy! Just don't hate me... (small voice) please. /You're/ the one who wanted to read this story, and it IS listed as Comedy/Tragedy (something not often put together, I should think).
Perfectly Undisturbed
Ryou was running with Baka, laughing as they wandered further and further away.
"Where are you going?!" Bakura yelled, a note of panic creeping into his voice.
"Don't worry!" His aibou shouted in reply. "/I'm/ coming back."
"What do you mean?" The tomb raider demanded, frustrated.
Ryou laughed again, at Bakura this time, and the yami grew angry.
"You damn hikari! Tell me what's happening RIGHT NOW!"
Immediately, the world around them turned dark. Bakura ran blindly toward the spot where Ryou had been, frantically calling his name over and over.
"'Kura! Save me!" Ryou screamed, sobbing in terror. His voice seemed to come from every direction at once, bombarding the spirit's senses into confusion.
Baka howled mournfully from somewhere nearby, and the hair stood straight up on the back of Bakura's neck.
Ryou cried, "Don't let them get you!"
"What?!" Bakura shouted. "Who? Where are you?"
Now there was only silence.
***
Bakura woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for breath as he continued bleating for Ryou. He stopped abruptly as he remembered he was still in bed where he had crashed the night before.
He realized he was clutching the sheets so tightly that his knuckles had whitened and were numb. The yami forced himself to unclench his fists.
"Just a dream," Bakura said outloud, still breathing deeply to take in lost oxygen. "A nightmare. That's it. I'm ok." He took a long breath to calm himself.'
The grave robber noticed how sharply the sunlight was slanting through the window opposite his bed. Frowning, he looked at the clock.
Three'o'clock?!? He couldn't remember sleeping this late before, even in his previous life. *I guess crying is an exhausting business.* Bakura thought emotionlessly.
He still felt as though he was in shock.
The tomb raider threw off the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stood up, stretching, and threw on a shirt and jeans (Aithril: 0_0! BOXERS! ^_^;;). Bakura stared idly at the calendar before picking up a pen; he hadn't bothered to cross off the days in a while.
*Ryou's coming home today.* He observed, walking into the kitchen. *I guess I'll-*
He froze, staring at the table. The day before, the spirit had carelessly thrown the manilla vet record of Baka's shots, health, etc. aside.
Bakura snatched it up eagerly. *I must bring these to Takahama!* He thought happily. *He'll need to know that she's had her shots.*
/You just want to see Baka again..../ whispered a voice that sounded suspiciously similar to Ryou's.
"So what?" He asked the voice. Before he could disagree with himself anymore, he shrugged into his coat and left the apartment, manilla folder in hand.
***
It took a while for Bakura to even find his way to Takahama's street, and half an hour after that to find the house. It might have been easier if he hadn't walked home in a daze the night before.
The grave robber surveyed the house, trying to place what was different. Something looked snazier, more up-to-date....
*The house* He noted. Takahama must have spent the morning and afternoon painting the outside of the house- it was now a fresh and gleaming black.
*Oddly dark for him,* Bakura mused. He sidestepped the newspapers that littered the yard. The yami felt a cold prickle of fear run down his spine. He ignored it and knocked on the door. A TV was blasting from inside and from it he could hear snickering, cruel laughter and other, indistinguishable noises.
He expected the door to open right away, but was disappointed as no one answered.
Bakura felt stupid, arriving unexpectedly on this man's doorstep. He spun on his heel to leave.
A yelp burst from inside the house.
At least he thought it was a yelp.
He turned back towards the door, dropping the folder with the vet records.
"Baka!" Bakura cried in horror. He turned the knob and the door swung open easily- it hadn't been locked. The yami's eyes blinked, eyes flashing green like a cat's in the darkness of the living room.
There was no TV.
The jacket was still over the back of the chair where Takahama had left it the day before.
He heard another cry, followed by a tortured bark.
Bakura ran through the house; his vision was turning red. He came to a door with light spilling out from undeneath.
He opened it.
The basement.
And now, when the dog cried, (he had been hoping to Ra it wasn't Baka afterall, just a TV) he recognized it, knew it was Baka in the very marrow of his bones.
Instantly, the Millenium Ring was in his hands and flared to life, flooding the hallway with a light brighter than the mind could imagine. A wind stirred up, seemingly from nothing, and swirled angrily about his lean figure. Bakura's heart screamed for revenge, and his mind for justice, until the two sidres merged together in a malestorm of uncontrollable rage.
So when the spirit flew down the stairs in one step, brown eyes blazing, snowy white hair sprarking off in all directions, and the Millenium Ring glowing brighter than a thousand suns, Takahama was, to say the least, disturbed.
"What the f*ck?!" He shouted, and stumbled clumsily a step to his right to block something on the floor from Bakura's view. A naked bulb swung overhead, disrupted by the wind. "Who- /what/ are you?"
"Where's Baka?" Bakura demanded.
Takahama actually smirked and swaggered towards him. He leaned in, bringing his face so close to the tomb raider's that he could smell the reek of alcohol on his breath, and whispered, "Dead. I killed the little b*tch."
Bakura snarled, eyes flashing to a red violet. He leapt forward, and sank his teeth into the man's cheek.
Takahama screamed, twisting and flailing wildly. He succeeded in ripping away the flesh caught between his opponent's teeth.
The yami spit the chunk of skin out of the corner of his mouth and whipped a knife out of his pocket. Takahama stood up slowly, blood pouring from the wound like a waterfall. He slid his hand to the pocket of his jeans and patted it vainly, then seemed puzzled, as there was nothing there.
Bakura darted forward and picked up Takahama by the front of his pin-striped, business suit. He raised the knife and pressed it against the man's throat until he gurgled and blood began seeping out of the slit.
Now it was the grave robber who drew him close until they were eye to eye, an inch apart.
"Have a swift journey to hell, you bloody bastard!"
Bakura whipped the knife once across his victim's neck and the head dropped back, almost severed. The spirit finished the job with another quick flick of his wrist and the hideous face rolled off to stare blankly into the shadows of a corner.
He glanced around wildly for Baka, and his gaze fell on the little bundle Takahama had blocked from his sight. A little bundle of red, white, and brown....
A groan of horror escaped his throat at the thought of his own stupidity in letting this monster take Baka from him. Bakura approached the limp form timidly, afraid of what he might find. He turned her over.
She yelped and her muzzle contorted into a snarl until she recognized the face looming anxiously above her. Her tail flapped back and forth twice and she licked his hand happily, even gratefully, as if he was in no way responsible for her misery.
*And pain,* Bakura realized with a pang. He leaned over her and winced.
A long, six-inch knife was buried up to the hilt in her ribs.
/He slid his hand to the pocket of his jeans and patted it vainly, then seemed puzzled as there was nothing there./
Baka whined softly, pawing at the yami, and he stroked her ears. She wouldn't live to see the day.
Bakura picked her up and carried her reverently up the stairs and out of the house. He left the front door wide open so there was a chance /someone/ would dispose of the headless corpse in the basement.
The tomb raider frowned darkly at the thought of Takahama leering at him. Baka whimpered as his foot caught on the sidewalk and he stumbled, jolting her broken body slightly.
His gaze softened and his eyes were kind and filled with emotion, something he had previously reserved for Ryou's presence only.
"We're going to the park, Baka," Bakura whispered quietly. He thought he saw her ears twitch.
***
By the time he reached the park, it was dark out, about eight'o'clock, he guessed. Bakura strode through the gates and, hesitantly, approached the bench. He sat down with a grunt and was about to lay Baka down when he thought about it from the dog's point of view. He placed her meticulously on the soft grass and settled down next to her himself, back braced against the bench.
The beagle's breath was coming in a sort of pained gasp, and every rasping shudder was cutting sharply into the grave robber's heart. Tears pricked at his eyes. He looked shiftily from side to side, reassuring himself that he had no audience. All was dark and silent.
Sobs racked his body and Baka quieted to listen.
Tears dropped onto her blood-sodden coat, but she didn't react until Bakura moved his head into his hands. A drop slid down the edge of his nose, fell through his fingers and splashed onto her nose. She licked it eagerly with a wash of her tongue and strained to reach his face.
The corners of the yami's mouth curved upward despite his tears. He lowered his face to let her lick them.
Soon... she would be gone....
..... and Ra keep her soul.
Bakura didn't know how long he sat there, thinking, but, gradually, the reassuring touch on his cheek slowed. After one last, satisfied lick, it stopped.
He could not bring himself to look down, knowing he would find lifeless, empty eyes staring back at him.
The stars inched across the sky as he looked on. The expanse lightened with the coming day and pale threads of pink drifted lazily above. His eyes dropped to Baka.
Baka's eyes were closed, and a blissful, dreamy smile stretched across her muzzle.
*This is the most peaceful corpse I've ever seen...* Bakura thought vaguely, and, dropping his chin to his chest, closed his eyes.
***
The groundskeeper was tending fondly to the shrubbery when he came upon an occupied bench. He frowned, checking his watch. Had time really flown by that quickly?
But it was only seven! The park wouldn't open for another hour!
He studied the figure asleep at the foot of the bench. It looked to be a teen, or a young man in his early twenties. A shock of wild, dove-white hair sprouted from his pale, porcelin-like face. Blood flecked it and the groundskeeper watched in disgust as the boy's tongue emerged and absently licked it up. Blood was also on his clothing, but he didn't seem to be bleeding.
Was it someone.. /else's/ blood?
The man gulped. He took a few steps to the left and discovered something else.
In his arms, the youth held the limp form of a dog, and, upon close inspection, the groundskeeper realized it wasn't breathing.
He began slowly backing away when the boy's eyes flashed open.
The groundskeeper shrieked and turned to run, but was skillfully apprehended and twisted to look into the murderer's face.
"M-murderer! Kill-ed da dog!" He stuttered in broken Japanese and continued babbling something else.
Bakura showed his teeth in a feral grin. The groundskeeper shut up. His short, blond hair was standing on end.
"If you don't return here with a shovel in under five minutes and/or tell someone about this, I will personally murder your family before you can take another breath," The yami hissed.
The poor man (for we truely must feel sorry for him) nodded quickly. Bakura threw him down and he bowed, muttering something fearfully, then turned and ran.
The tomb raider sat back on the bench, immensely satisfied. He looked at Baka's body again and his mood dropped a few notches.
*Baka....*
His thoughts were ended abruptly when the groundskeeper reappeared, shovel in hand, and threw himself at Bakura's feet, babbling pleas about not killing him and so on. The grave robber didn't listen; he'd heard these thousands of times before from other victims.
"There will be a grave here under the bench." He announced, and the man gasped, dropping the shovel with a clang. "If you do not take care of it properly, in secret, not only will I murder your family, but you will be cursed ten generations from now. Understood?"
The groundskeeper whimpered and stuttered, "Y-y-yes!"
"Good." Bakura looked away, bored. "Leave now."
He bolted.
A small smile tugged at the corners of the tomb raider's face as he expertly peeled back a layer of sod under the bench and used the shovel, dumping the dirt in a neat pile beside the grave.
Fifteen minutes later, it was deep enough.
Bakura carefully lowered the beagle's body into the grave. He spoke a prayer in ancient Egyptian and pushed the dirt pile back over her, packing it in solidly. He smoothed the top with his palm and rolled the layer of grass back over the grave and eyed it.
Perfectly undisturbed.
As a last touch, he pried a rock out of the garden nearby and placed it respectfully on top of the grave.
A bell sang in the distance, indicating the park's opening. Bakura walked home.
***
Just after lunch, the door opened and Ryou bounced inside, already talking before Bakura could manage a word.
"Hey Bakura! Sorry I'm so late! I missed the plane, so I had to get tickets for another one... Ah-HA! So that's where the Millenium Ring went! You should be ashamed of yourself- you promised you wouldn't send for it. And .... um, do you know why people in the lobby were giving me dirty looks? Because some guy ran away screaming when he saw me and- 'Kura? Are you ok?"
He looked at his yami who was leaning silently against the wall. The spirit straightened and made it to Ryou's shoulder before he burst into tears.
{Ryou: ((0 _ 0)) }
He patted Bakura on the shoulder gingerly. "Aw, yami! What's wrong? S'alright!" Ryou felt his aibou's arms squeeze him tighter. "Everything will be fine. It'll be ok, I promise." The hikari still had no idea what was going on.
Bakura was thinking about the 'ok' part as his tears slowed to a trickle.
"Hikari, you do know that I love you, right?"
Ryou was even more stunned than before. First, his yami breaking down into tears, then bluntly saying he loved him? What had happened to bring about this revelation?
"Of course, Bakura. I love you too."
Tears flooded the tomb raider's eyes again and they ran down his face to drip on Ryou's sweater.
Suddenly, the hikari realized something. "Hey, where's that dog you were talking about? Surely you didn't let her owner take her so-"
Bakura buried his face into the sweater and cried harder.
Ryou patiently wiped away the tears.
oos: (cries) (sniffs) You know, it took me about three days in school to get this the way I wanted it. (sniffs again) I kept crying in the middle of class. (cringes) I really, really hope you guys don't hate. (sniffs yet again) See ya in DATAKS 2!
^_^;; Anyway....
I'm not actually sure how long it will be until this gets online. My computer's internet connection is currently broken at the moment I'm typing this (X_x), so I've been suffering, too, /believe me/!
Thanks for those readers who have been with me from the start. I might have stopped writing this if it weren't for you. Although I didn't get as many reviews for this as for Soul Mates, I personally think Baka is better written and more mature. I've never been kissed, but I have lost pets, so maybe it has to do with the whole life experiance thing.
Ignore my musings and enjoy! Just don't hate me... (small voice) please. /You're/ the one who wanted to read this story, and it IS listed as Comedy/Tragedy (something not often put together, I should think).
Perfectly Undisturbed
Ryou was running with Baka, laughing as they wandered further and further away.
"Where are you going?!" Bakura yelled, a note of panic creeping into his voice.
"Don't worry!" His aibou shouted in reply. "/I'm/ coming back."
"What do you mean?" The tomb raider demanded, frustrated.
Ryou laughed again, at Bakura this time, and the yami grew angry.
"You damn hikari! Tell me what's happening RIGHT NOW!"
Immediately, the world around them turned dark. Bakura ran blindly toward the spot where Ryou had been, frantically calling his name over and over.
"'Kura! Save me!" Ryou screamed, sobbing in terror. His voice seemed to come from every direction at once, bombarding the spirit's senses into confusion.
Baka howled mournfully from somewhere nearby, and the hair stood straight up on the back of Bakura's neck.
Ryou cried, "Don't let them get you!"
"What?!" Bakura shouted. "Who? Where are you?"
Now there was only silence.
***
Bakura woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for breath as he continued bleating for Ryou. He stopped abruptly as he remembered he was still in bed where he had crashed the night before.
He realized he was clutching the sheets so tightly that his knuckles had whitened and were numb. The yami forced himself to unclench his fists.
"Just a dream," Bakura said outloud, still breathing deeply to take in lost oxygen. "A nightmare. That's it. I'm ok." He took a long breath to calm himself.'
The grave robber noticed how sharply the sunlight was slanting through the window opposite his bed. Frowning, he looked at the clock.
Three'o'clock?!? He couldn't remember sleeping this late before, even in his previous life. *I guess crying is an exhausting business.* Bakura thought emotionlessly.
He still felt as though he was in shock.
The tomb raider threw off the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stood up, stretching, and threw on a shirt and jeans (Aithril: 0_0! BOXERS! ^_^;;). Bakura stared idly at the calendar before picking up a pen; he hadn't bothered to cross off the days in a while.
*Ryou's coming home today.* He observed, walking into the kitchen. *I guess I'll-*
He froze, staring at the table. The day before, the spirit had carelessly thrown the manilla vet record of Baka's shots, health, etc. aside.
Bakura snatched it up eagerly. *I must bring these to Takahama!* He thought happily. *He'll need to know that she's had her shots.*
/You just want to see Baka again..../ whispered a voice that sounded suspiciously similar to Ryou's.
"So what?" He asked the voice. Before he could disagree with himself anymore, he shrugged into his coat and left the apartment, manilla folder in hand.
***
It took a while for Bakura to even find his way to Takahama's street, and half an hour after that to find the house. It might have been easier if he hadn't walked home in a daze the night before.
The grave robber surveyed the house, trying to place what was different. Something looked snazier, more up-to-date....
*The house* He noted. Takahama must have spent the morning and afternoon painting the outside of the house- it was now a fresh and gleaming black.
*Oddly dark for him,* Bakura mused. He sidestepped the newspapers that littered the yard. The yami felt a cold prickle of fear run down his spine. He ignored it and knocked on the door. A TV was blasting from inside and from it he could hear snickering, cruel laughter and other, indistinguishable noises.
He expected the door to open right away, but was disappointed as no one answered.
Bakura felt stupid, arriving unexpectedly on this man's doorstep. He spun on his heel to leave.
A yelp burst from inside the house.
At least he thought it was a yelp.
He turned back towards the door, dropping the folder with the vet records.
"Baka!" Bakura cried in horror. He turned the knob and the door swung open easily- it hadn't been locked. The yami's eyes blinked, eyes flashing green like a cat's in the darkness of the living room.
There was no TV.
The jacket was still over the back of the chair where Takahama had left it the day before.
He heard another cry, followed by a tortured bark.
Bakura ran through the house; his vision was turning red. He came to a door with light spilling out from undeneath.
He opened it.
The basement.
And now, when the dog cried, (he had been hoping to Ra it wasn't Baka afterall, just a TV) he recognized it, knew it was Baka in the very marrow of his bones.
Instantly, the Millenium Ring was in his hands and flared to life, flooding the hallway with a light brighter than the mind could imagine. A wind stirred up, seemingly from nothing, and swirled angrily about his lean figure. Bakura's heart screamed for revenge, and his mind for justice, until the two sidres merged together in a malestorm of uncontrollable rage.
So when the spirit flew down the stairs in one step, brown eyes blazing, snowy white hair sprarking off in all directions, and the Millenium Ring glowing brighter than a thousand suns, Takahama was, to say the least, disturbed.
"What the f*ck?!" He shouted, and stumbled clumsily a step to his right to block something on the floor from Bakura's view. A naked bulb swung overhead, disrupted by the wind. "Who- /what/ are you?"
"Where's Baka?" Bakura demanded.
Takahama actually smirked and swaggered towards him. He leaned in, bringing his face so close to the tomb raider's that he could smell the reek of alcohol on his breath, and whispered, "Dead. I killed the little b*tch."
Bakura snarled, eyes flashing to a red violet. He leapt forward, and sank his teeth into the man's cheek.
Takahama screamed, twisting and flailing wildly. He succeeded in ripping away the flesh caught between his opponent's teeth.
The yami spit the chunk of skin out of the corner of his mouth and whipped a knife out of his pocket. Takahama stood up slowly, blood pouring from the wound like a waterfall. He slid his hand to the pocket of his jeans and patted it vainly, then seemed puzzled, as there was nothing there.
Bakura darted forward and picked up Takahama by the front of his pin-striped, business suit. He raised the knife and pressed it against the man's throat until he gurgled and blood began seeping out of the slit.
Now it was the grave robber who drew him close until they were eye to eye, an inch apart.
"Have a swift journey to hell, you bloody bastard!"
Bakura whipped the knife once across his victim's neck and the head dropped back, almost severed. The spirit finished the job with another quick flick of his wrist and the hideous face rolled off to stare blankly into the shadows of a corner.
He glanced around wildly for Baka, and his gaze fell on the little bundle Takahama had blocked from his sight. A little bundle of red, white, and brown....
A groan of horror escaped his throat at the thought of his own stupidity in letting this monster take Baka from him. Bakura approached the limp form timidly, afraid of what he might find. He turned her over.
She yelped and her muzzle contorted into a snarl until she recognized the face looming anxiously above her. Her tail flapped back and forth twice and she licked his hand happily, even gratefully, as if he was in no way responsible for her misery.
*And pain,* Bakura realized with a pang. He leaned over her and winced.
A long, six-inch knife was buried up to the hilt in her ribs.
/He slid his hand to the pocket of his jeans and patted it vainly, then seemed puzzled as there was nothing there./
Baka whined softly, pawing at the yami, and he stroked her ears. She wouldn't live to see the day.
Bakura picked her up and carried her reverently up the stairs and out of the house. He left the front door wide open so there was a chance /someone/ would dispose of the headless corpse in the basement.
The tomb raider frowned darkly at the thought of Takahama leering at him. Baka whimpered as his foot caught on the sidewalk and he stumbled, jolting her broken body slightly.
His gaze softened and his eyes were kind and filled with emotion, something he had previously reserved for Ryou's presence only.
"We're going to the park, Baka," Bakura whispered quietly. He thought he saw her ears twitch.
***
By the time he reached the park, it was dark out, about eight'o'clock, he guessed. Bakura strode through the gates and, hesitantly, approached the bench. He sat down with a grunt and was about to lay Baka down when he thought about it from the dog's point of view. He placed her meticulously on the soft grass and settled down next to her himself, back braced against the bench.
The beagle's breath was coming in a sort of pained gasp, and every rasping shudder was cutting sharply into the grave robber's heart. Tears pricked at his eyes. He looked shiftily from side to side, reassuring himself that he had no audience. All was dark and silent.
Sobs racked his body and Baka quieted to listen.
Tears dropped onto her blood-sodden coat, but she didn't react until Bakura moved his head into his hands. A drop slid down the edge of his nose, fell through his fingers and splashed onto her nose. She licked it eagerly with a wash of her tongue and strained to reach his face.
The corners of the yami's mouth curved upward despite his tears. He lowered his face to let her lick them.
Soon... she would be gone....
..... and Ra keep her soul.
Bakura didn't know how long he sat there, thinking, but, gradually, the reassuring touch on his cheek slowed. After one last, satisfied lick, it stopped.
He could not bring himself to look down, knowing he would find lifeless, empty eyes staring back at him.
The stars inched across the sky as he looked on. The expanse lightened with the coming day and pale threads of pink drifted lazily above. His eyes dropped to Baka.
Baka's eyes were closed, and a blissful, dreamy smile stretched across her muzzle.
*This is the most peaceful corpse I've ever seen...* Bakura thought vaguely, and, dropping his chin to his chest, closed his eyes.
***
The groundskeeper was tending fondly to the shrubbery when he came upon an occupied bench. He frowned, checking his watch. Had time really flown by that quickly?
But it was only seven! The park wouldn't open for another hour!
He studied the figure asleep at the foot of the bench. It looked to be a teen, or a young man in his early twenties. A shock of wild, dove-white hair sprouted from his pale, porcelin-like face. Blood flecked it and the groundskeeper watched in disgust as the boy's tongue emerged and absently licked it up. Blood was also on his clothing, but he didn't seem to be bleeding.
Was it someone.. /else's/ blood?
The man gulped. He took a few steps to the left and discovered something else.
In his arms, the youth held the limp form of a dog, and, upon close inspection, the groundskeeper realized it wasn't breathing.
He began slowly backing away when the boy's eyes flashed open.
The groundskeeper shrieked and turned to run, but was skillfully apprehended and twisted to look into the murderer's face.
"M-murderer! Kill-ed da dog!" He stuttered in broken Japanese and continued babbling something else.
Bakura showed his teeth in a feral grin. The groundskeeper shut up. His short, blond hair was standing on end.
"If you don't return here with a shovel in under five minutes and/or tell someone about this, I will personally murder your family before you can take another breath," The yami hissed.
The poor man (for we truely must feel sorry for him) nodded quickly. Bakura threw him down and he bowed, muttering something fearfully, then turned and ran.
The tomb raider sat back on the bench, immensely satisfied. He looked at Baka's body again and his mood dropped a few notches.
*Baka....*
His thoughts were ended abruptly when the groundskeeper reappeared, shovel in hand, and threw himself at Bakura's feet, babbling pleas about not killing him and so on. The grave robber didn't listen; he'd heard these thousands of times before from other victims.
"There will be a grave here under the bench." He announced, and the man gasped, dropping the shovel with a clang. "If you do not take care of it properly, in secret, not only will I murder your family, but you will be cursed ten generations from now. Understood?"
The groundskeeper whimpered and stuttered, "Y-y-yes!"
"Good." Bakura looked away, bored. "Leave now."
He bolted.
A small smile tugged at the corners of the tomb raider's face as he expertly peeled back a layer of sod under the bench and used the shovel, dumping the dirt in a neat pile beside the grave.
Fifteen minutes later, it was deep enough.
Bakura carefully lowered the beagle's body into the grave. He spoke a prayer in ancient Egyptian and pushed the dirt pile back over her, packing it in solidly. He smoothed the top with his palm and rolled the layer of grass back over the grave and eyed it.
Perfectly undisturbed.
As a last touch, he pried a rock out of the garden nearby and placed it respectfully on top of the grave.
A bell sang in the distance, indicating the park's opening. Bakura walked home.
***
Just after lunch, the door opened and Ryou bounced inside, already talking before Bakura could manage a word.
"Hey Bakura! Sorry I'm so late! I missed the plane, so I had to get tickets for another one... Ah-HA! So that's where the Millenium Ring went! You should be ashamed of yourself- you promised you wouldn't send for it. And .... um, do you know why people in the lobby were giving me dirty looks? Because some guy ran away screaming when he saw me and- 'Kura? Are you ok?"
He looked at his yami who was leaning silently against the wall. The spirit straightened and made it to Ryou's shoulder before he burst into tears.
{Ryou: ((0 _ 0)) }
He patted Bakura on the shoulder gingerly. "Aw, yami! What's wrong? S'alright!" Ryou felt his aibou's arms squeeze him tighter. "Everything will be fine. It'll be ok, I promise." The hikari still had no idea what was going on.
Bakura was thinking about the 'ok' part as his tears slowed to a trickle.
"Hikari, you do know that I love you, right?"
Ryou was even more stunned than before. First, his yami breaking down into tears, then bluntly saying he loved him? What had happened to bring about this revelation?
"Of course, Bakura. I love you too."
Tears flooded the tomb raider's eyes again and they ran down his face to drip on Ryou's sweater.
Suddenly, the hikari realized something. "Hey, where's that dog you were talking about? Surely you didn't let her owner take her so-"
Bakura buried his face into the sweater and cried harder.
Ryou patiently wiped away the tears.
oos: (cries) (sniffs) You know, it took me about three days in school to get this the way I wanted it. (sniffs again) I kept crying in the middle of class. (cringes) I really, really hope you guys don't hate. (sniffs yet again) See ya in DATAKS 2!