"We know of nothing so agonizing upon Earth—
We can dream of nothing half so hideous in the realms of the nethermost Hell.
And thus, all narratives upon this topic have an interest profound;
An interest, nevertheless, which, through the sacred awe of the topic itself,
Very properly and very peculiarly depends upon our conviction of the truth of the matter narrated."
Ryou had sobbed continually throughout the entire story, and he remained doing so long after the tale finished.
Bakura's grip on him tightened reflexively, to the point of almost unbearable.
He had stayed relatively impassive on the outside, allowing his Hikari speak to his heart's content, forcing himself to appear quiet and thoughtful for Ryou, knowing if he interrupted he would never go on, but inside…he was seething.
The story—his past—was just as Ryou had described it, and so much more...
Nevertheless, how—no, how was not the important…why—yes, why had his Hikari known?
Looking down at the shaking form huddled in his lap, he could not help, overwhelmed with anger and aggravation as he was, to growl his frustrations within:
What right did the Gods have to do that to him?
What reason did the Gods have to torture them both?
Whatever happened to his so-called 'God-given life'?
This was blasphemy!
Above all, he wondered, mentally groaning in defeat… When would it end?
This was not tolerable; he could not just ignore the facts... no matter how much he wished it would all just go away…
He could never possibly come to understand why Ryou, of all people, must suffer.
The Gods did whatever they wanted to him, that was just fine, he was beyond caring about that anymore, he could just rain down vengeance on the people who hurt him later…
However, to bring his Hikari into it…sweet, little innocent Ryou—and no matter how much he despised him—this was just cruel somehow… and inexcusably wrong…
Bakura had been a thief and murderer long before his so-called 'demise' in that tomb. He had known well what awaited him at the gate of judgment, could have guessed what his fate would be, though nothing as dismal as what it was…
Nonetheless, Ryou, his light, had never hurt anyone… ever!
Furthermore, he was incapable of hurting anyone.
He was laughter, love, loyalty… everything Bakura was not…cannot…
The way he pressed his quivering form against Bakura, seeking warmth, safety, and sanctuary… things the Tomb Robber could never possibly be able to provide…emotions he was incapable of…
Yet, here he remained… unmoving…by his side…
He trusted in him, despite his being a liar and a thief... handed his life over to him. He expected to find comfort and security from the Yami... because that is what Yami's are supposed to do…
He had gone to no one else first; sure somehow, that Bakura would be able drive away his worse fears… Bakura, was he not the 5,000-year-old tormenter who pleasured seeing others in pain while delighting in his?
Yet Ryou had put complete confidence and faith in him.
Why did Ryou have to endure this torment?
Why did Ryou have to take a part in suffering that was never his?
Could they not see he was innocent?
He froze.
What would become of Ryou if his nightmares continued? What more could he learn…?
This had been bad enough, but if his Hikari had to bear witness to other scenes in his past…
Bakura shuddered to think what would come from that knowledge.
Heart-wrenching brutality could not even begin to describe this atrocity…
He was supposed to rise as far as Bakura had fallen…
He had to be able to counter the darkness within his other half, to drive back the madness and the fear from both their lives…
Now though, now it was as though Ryou faced the risk of abandonment as well.
With all he had seen, with all still to come, how could he escape the same dark fate?
"I hate them," Ryou whispered below him suddenly, as if in agreement to his rage.
Taking in another deep breath to steady himself, he continued murmuring softly, yet distinctly passionate…hatred arising to previously unperceived levels within him, "I hate them all, loathe them all, the pharaoh, his people, and my so-called 'friends'… how could they do this to you? How could they all just…just forget? Damn them; damn them all to Hell and back…"
He closed his eyes despairingly, pained, and not quite believing what he was saying…yet not denying it either. He did not want to see the world anymore either; he was just so cold...
He was so scared…
"No," Bakura growled forcefully, commanding him, barely restraining himself from trying to shake his Hikari senseless.
He was not going to stand by and watch this happen a second time; he was not going to let them win this time... especially when his light –once again—was the one at stake…
He flipped Ryou over beneath him in a swift movement, effectively pinning him still with his weight. Keeping his Hikari's arms tucked to their side, he forced their eyes to meet across the mere inches separating them.
That was far too high a price to pay…
…and he would not yield it!
Ryou swallowed hard, trying to look the other way; wanting to look anywhere, at anything, but Bakura's steely crimson orbs…like the blood that had bathed them both…
He found himself trapped though.
Somehow, amidst the confusion that besieged him, he instinctively fell under the hypnotic enchantment of his Yami's gaze, compelling him dazedly to listen to every word that left Bakura's lips...
The spirit's eyes narrowed dangerously as he finally made his decision in contempt…
Ryou was his!
"I will not allow that Yadounshi," he enunciated every syllable severely, effectively ignoring the onslaught of protests.
"Listen carefully, you are not me," he continued firmly; holding such astonishing assurance in his words as to make Ryou certain everything said was truth…
"And what happened 5,000 years ago; happened 5,000 years ago! I will not let it corrupt our future. I will not permit it a hold in our lives. No longer, no more…for to do so would be as surrendering ourselves, which in turn would serve only to condemn us eternally to that fate. My fate, your fate…our fate is mine! I will not let them win like that Hikari; I will not give in again!"
The last words he ended up shouting in fury, compulsively tensing his grip on Ryou's forearms. He only paused when he heard the hiss of a pained groan emerge from deep within his Hikari.
He peered down, eyes narrowing, and immediately confirmed his suspicions; he silently cursed himself for missing it before.
Ryou, his brave—and quite strong—Hikari it seemed, from the grimace that flashed across his features, had determinedly kept something from him.
Grabbing the arm that rested nearest him, he pointedly ignored the frightened yelp startled out of Ryou and tore off the first layer.
Concentrating hard, and not deterred in the least by his Hikari's stuttered objecting squawks, Bakura rolled back the sleeve to reveal numerous previously hidden scratches…
That closely resembled cuts he had inflicted on himself those thousands of years ago…
Bakura looked up, for once in apparent confusion, while Ryou just bowed his head in shame...
The nicks and bruises had indeed come from the nightmare, not his own doing… but he had not wanted to distress his Yami further with their appearance.
He had caused Bakura to go through enough pain for one night…
The lacerations were enough to agonize, but not enough to place him in any real danger of blood loss anyways…he thought.
Bakura, strangely enough, was not at all mad at Ryou's attempts of hiding his injuries.
"And neither will you," he acknowledged perceptively, face still relatively unreceptive but hinting at pride with the barest trace of a smirk.
Expressionless, he ran his fingers once more knowingly through his Hikari's soft snowy-white hair; Ryou, still pinned beneath him, shivered unknowingly at his touch.
Bakura himself did not know why he did it exactly— was it out of impulse? Had Ryou's soul called to his own in that decisive moment?—He was not sure.
He just realized then how he could get through to his Hikari; and that was that.
Thus, without warning given or explanation attempted, he solemnly proceeded to unbutton the top of his light's pajama shirt, maintaining eye contact.
Ryou watched him, incredulous at his Yami's actions thus far and simply too stunned to protest or question. Strangely, the thought of him inflicting bodily harm never even occurred within his thoughts tonight.
With his chest finally revealed bare, Bakura let go of all the weight he had previously supported on his elbows, falling gently and landing atop of Ryou, head coming to rest on his shoulder. He seemed to relax instantly within the close proximity.
Ryou lost himself to fascination, utterly swept away in the foreign sensations.
Closing his eyes, he felt it first, skin against silky smooth skin, the friction between creating fire against blaze. His nerves tingled with pleasure as warmth immediately engulfed him, different from the iciness of the grave, so very sought after... and finally found.
Hesitantly he brought his freed arms to encircle Bakura and stroke his back softly, giving as well as receiving solace. At the same time, he could not help but marvel at the contours felt between the shoulder blades, the muscles in well sculpted arms that rippled lightly beneath his touch.
Bakura's heated breath puffed across the sensitive skin at the base of Ryou's neck; disquieting him to inhale quickly.
Doing so, he caught a faint trace of Bakura's scent in his silvery locks, and he unconsciously nestled deeper. Not a trace of rotting flesh here thank goodness, it was strangely pure… with an aroma of ancient myrrh—a bitter perfume—along with the archaic fragrance of frankincense; both blended together with the smell of the freshest rain in the driest desert… entirely too addictive...
His grip on his other constricted irrationally as his tears slowed, and then came to a stop.
Bakura waited a few moments more before slowly pulling back, indicating with a shake of his head that he was not leaving him, not yet…
Without another word, he reached down to take Ryou's hand in his and brought it to rest on his chest directly over his supposed 'heart', not once removing his eyes from his Hikari's.
Ryou shivered, he remembered all too clearly that dagger being plunged into Bakura on his accord, the blood, his own blood, staining his hands red...
Bakura enfolded Ryou's other hand and clutched it evenly to bring him back from his thoughts, before firmly laying it over Ryou's own heart. He knew all to well what memories his actions had provoked, and that is why it was imperative for his Hikari to see for himself…to realize that…
Ryou splayed his fingers wide, letting both his palms rest flatly against their chests.
Tearing his eyes away, he looked down in wonderment; it had taken him but a moment to be aware of the feel…
Their hearts—their racing-thrums—were doing so within the same rhythm.
They beat as one… always within unison.
He looked up to his Yami in question…
"We still exist…," Bakura whispered fiercely by declaration.
Then Ryou finally understood.
They shared in one source, life energy and souls forever intertwined.
Moreover, he was alive… they both were; and so they would remain until one ceased to exist…then, and only then, the other would too.
A slight smile played at the corner of his lips as he nodded to show his understanding.
Bakura looked back down and traced with concern the outlines of a cross-shaped gash on Ryou's chest, then another similar one not far. He looked troubled about something; but Ryou was patient.
"I caused this," he whispered at last, his expression stricken, "and I apologize."
It was Bakura's turn to be unwilling to face his other half.
"I have no name in the regions which I inhabit.
I was mortal, but am fiend.
I was merciless, but am pitiful
…I cannot rest for the cry of these great agonies.
Is not this a spectacle of woe? Behold!
…O, God, is it not a pitiful sight?
…What avails the vigilance against the Destiny of man?
…There was something at my heart which whispered me it was sure.
…And now, amid all my infinite miseries, came sweetly the cherub Hope…"
"Why should you?" Ryou asked, honestly bewildered, "What are you apologizing for Yami? I'm the one who should be begging forgiveness right about now."
Ryou was suddenly feeling so decidedly guilty about causing this all, and he felt he should further explain himself before…
Therefore, he continued, whispering softly, "I brought this back tonight, Yami…I… I was the one who rushed in here…without thinking…I'm sorry…It's just… I was terrified… I should never have come, I know… I should never have reminded you about… Just please forgive me…for once…It's… it's my fault…not yours… never yours…"
He had tearfully stammered through practically the whole speech in his haste to assure Bakura he had done nothing wrong; but the last few words he had mumbled even softer, for they were directed more to himself, in wonderment, than at his other.
Bakura, however, heard and was taken aback; it was never his fault? Just how long had his Hikari been blaming himself for his actions?
Moreover, he had apologized for needing him…
"But please don't leave Yami, I'd be terribly lonely without you," Ryou added quickly, taking his silence for rejection.
He knew it was true…
His father was never home anymore and his mother—his mother had died long ago when he was young in a car crash, with his sister—that was part of the reason for his father's absence…Ryou reminded him of his dead family.
Before he met Bakura, he never had any friends; and even though he now somewhat had the Yugi-tachi, the house would feel unbearably abandoned without his Yami to share it with.
He never knew why his Yami had decided to stay after he gained a body of his own, but he had welcomed it, and if he chose to leave now, because of him…
"I'm not leaving Hikari," Bakura whispered hesitantly in his ear as reassurance… not now, not ever.
Silence pervaded after that, but Ryou was not yet finished.
"Why do you need the rest of the Millennium Items?" he questioned wistfully. "Why can't we put all that behind us? Start over?"
Bakura was quiet for a long time before answering. He removed himself from on top of Ryou and back to a sitting position. Ryou too propped himself up next to his Yami and waited.
Finally, he answered, staring out into oblivion as though it held all the secret answers.
"I cannot change who I am or what my fate is Yadounshi." He chuckled wryly to himself as he went on, "However, I can assure you that I will have my revenge."
Bakura never gave him the chance to ask…
"Do not try to abolish my hate, Yadounshi; it is all I have left now. That evil is me; it's what I've become, it's what I am…I am the darkness," Bakura strained the statement sternly, directly meeting Ryou's eyes this time. "I have a duty to perform, you know that now."
Ryou attempted a lope-sided grin but gave up quickly. Instead, he brushed his knuckles tenderly against the silkiness of Bakura's cheek, not quite willing to give up the contact just yet.
"I do, and I won't interfere again," the tone was one of resignation, along with a slight sigh escaping his lips, startling Bakura.
Refusal he had been expecting, acceptance he had not foreseen… He could never willingly believe his other half would give in so easily, and he was right, as Ryou seemed to be searching for something more…
"But what if I could offer you something more?" Ryou inquired solemnly, gazing into Bakura's eyes as though they were windows…
His Yami's eyebrows drew together in his apparent confusion, even as he unconsciously leaned in towards Ryou's caress.
"Mou hitori no boku, what if I replaced your hatred, your sorrow, and your torment, with something else, something better…and I could too. After all I am still your light…I have power too…" he whispered the words fervently, yet brokenly, as though wanting to believe them himself.
Bakura just shook his head in denial, refusing the words.
For a brief instant, Ryou thought he saw a look of regret appear while the former tomb robber drew back inside himself, pushing Ryou's hand away forcefully; in a flash though, it vanished, as though never existing.
"Not possible," he stated flatly.
He simply acknowledged facts instead of faith, as he had always done before.
Ryou just continued smiling sadly. He was entirely too stubborn for his own good.
No matter how long it took, he secretly promised to himself, someday he would stop Bakura's rampage.
It was in that moment Ryou decided his fate; he permitted himself to be the one to bring about change; it was his duty now, being the lighter of the pair, after all…
He then discovered his purpose.
Bakura had no idea that his Hikari planned differently. His yami just looked at him strangely, though Ryou was certain he could not hear any of his thoughts.
Suddenly it dawned on Ryou that the space between them had grown much larger.
With a start, he realized that whatever had passed between them tonight was over and that Bakura expected him to leave, be gone and forget everything by morning.
He must never—under any circumstances given—mention this again, to anyone.
The thought was upsetting; it meant he would have to sleep alone again tonight, with nothing but his haunted nightmares to keep him company.
He knew it would come to this eventually but now that the time was actually here…
He looked back down the somber hallway, the shadows playing forebodingly off reflected angles, which lead to his bedroom and voiced his fears.
"Do I really have to go?"
With no answer returned, he sighed and bit back on a sudden lump of tension forming in his throat.
Careful not to look behind at his Yami, he slid off the bed, the floor feeling decidedly rigid and cold beneath his bare feet. He grabbed his shirt and departed in the direction of his room, secretly knowing there would be no rest for him there.
He had not gotten halfway to the door though before a gruff voice stopped him in his tracks.
"You can stay… if you want," the tone sounded stiff and edgy, but the invitation was there all the same.
He looked back, surprised and hopeful, only to see Bakura had turned his face away from him, lying on his side towards the opposite wall.
He bit his lip, somewhat indecisive, as he looked between the door and the bed; he knew there would be no turning back once he decided on which.
With the first and truest smile that night, he hung his shirt gently over the backing of a nearby chair, and crawled back into bed with his other half.
Cautiously he shifted closer and repositioned himself against his Yami's back. When Bakura failed to protest, he got even braver, slinging an arm around to rest loosely across his other half's midsection.
He buried them both securely under the covers, sighing in content at the warmth radiated between them. Being sure to wait until his Yami was again fast asleep; he impulsively kissed Bakura once softly on the shoulder. Then he himself reached for the best of his dreams; safe from the despair being unable to touch him there.
Before drifting off to sleep though, he convinced himself that somehow he would find a way, even if Tomb Robber's never abide by something as menial as a promise.
The Night looked on with little more than indifference; after all, she had seen such forbidden many times before… well, perhaps a touch of disgust… for why had the Dark One given in to his Light so soon?
"Whatcha doing?"
Night blinked, startled, as she slowly realized that Day had crept up on her again. She wrinkled her nose at him with displeasure, but he just smiled back and kissed her chastely on the cheek with a greeted "Good Morning."
"Leave me alone," she attempted to draw back into the shadows… he always acted so odd during the dawn and in the evenings, when they could actually see each other…
She just never could figure out why though…
"Haven't you learned anything tonight?" He sighed lightly with a false pout for a moment, before giving up and laughing at… something...again. Always sunny, always cheerful, how annoying could you get?
She struggled as he pulled her closer. "What do you …?" She started to ask suspiciously but was cut off when he kissed her once more, this one landing smack straight on the lips.
Flustered, she glared darkly at him before fleeing to the other side of the world.
He yawned brightly, before turning and beaming in the general direction of the bed.
"Looks like we've got our work cut out for us little one… agreed?"
"The tortures endured—
They were inconceivably hideous; but out of Evil proceeded Good…
My soul acquired tone—acquired temper…
I breathed the free air of Heaven…
In short, I became a new man, and lived a man's life.
From that memorable night, I dismissed forever my charnel apprehensions…
There are moments when, even to the sober eye of Reason, the world of our sad Humanity may assume the semblance of a Hell…
They must sleep, or they will devour us—
They must be suffered to slumber, or we perish."
AN: Well, I am very glad I finally finished this…while avoiding all the rest of my duties that need doing. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed! Yes, I know it's a bit long, and this in no way reflects the past or the storyline of YuGiOh! I just loved this theme is all, and it worked so well for Bakura that I just had to share! Love and peace for all! (I achieved 10,550 words writing this, yay!)