Fate: Arr. This story is more annoying than I thought it would be. _
Disclaimer: We. No. Own. Are you mentally deficit or something?
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I laugh, and laugh, and laugh, and I'm getting a bit hysterical--more than a bit, I think giddily, and it all seems so--
Ryou, with amazing perspicacity, slaps me.
I close my eyes tightly, then open them, blinking rapidly as I raise my hand to scrub at my face. I rake at my cheekbones with my nails, grounding myself with the pain.
"Yami? Yami! Oh my God..." Suddenly Ryou's climbing into my lap and grabbing my wrists, forcing me to stop my self-mutilation. My fingers are knotted together and I can only think idiotically, He should eat more. His bony knees bite into mine, sending a dull ache to my brain. Still, he's oddly light...
"Anubis have mercy on us," Ryou whispers, his eyes flicking briefly upward. Normally, I'd have rolled my eyes, sure that the gods were ignoring me at least, but now I'm desperate for all the help we can get, an odd state for me. "Look, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
"I want to," I whisper, but there is no truth in the statement. "I have to," I add, the truth finally slipping from between my lips.
"Did you have to tell the others?" Ryou demands.
I sigh. "Once I knew...I told. And sometimes...sometimes they didn't believe me," I remember aloud.
"I can believe that," Ryou mutters.
"You don't believe me?" I ask fiercely, shaking his hands loose from my wrists and grabbing his shoulders, my nails biting into his skin.
Ryou doesn't flinch as one of my fingernails parts the skin, oddly enough. "I believe you," he says softly. "You wouldn't care so much, or fake caring so much, unless you had no control over it. You lie without emotion. It's how I tell your lies from your truth. You lie to everyone, all the time, so no one else knows. They have nothing to balance your lies against. I know when you lie."
"Shit," I remark, feeling almost like myself for a brief moment. This one instant of normalcy brings laughter to my throat, rising like bile. Ryou sees this and immediately claps one hand over my mouth, bearing the pain my tightening fingers are inflicting on him without seeming to recognize it.
"Talk," Ryou says softly. "Talk and talk and talk, because I can't do a damn thing for you but to listen." He slowly removes his hand. "Talk. It hurts you. Just tell me and it might hurt less."
...
I opened one eye hazily. My mind immediately screamed at the motion. No no no no no no no! Not again, not again, oh please not again!
Blue eyes blinked before me. I heard a voice, but I didn't understand the words...
Help me, I whispered mentally. Someone up There have mercy on me, and end it! I won't be a slave again!
The blue eyes jerked back as though their owner had been bitten. I dared to open my other eye.
A young man, taller than I remembered being when I'd been in Egypt--was I still there? I didn't know--and heavily muscled was surveying me with confusion and interest bordering on fear. His black hair was combed back into a horsetail, leaving only a few short hanks to fall over his tan face. He looked to be in his late teens, older than I'd remembered being. Two leather cords bit into his neck. One held blue feathers woven into blue glass beads, and the other--
The other suspended the Millennium Ring.
I promptly flailed to my feet and threw myself at the wall, wild to escape the servitude I knew was coming.
I fell straight through the wall and crashed lightly to the ground, my limbs rattling loosely in their joints.
More of the unintelligible language reached my ears. The man burst out of the house--it was a house, wasn't it?--and knelt by me, talking loudly in that incomprehensible tongue. I didn't much care, though. I was staring at the ground, elated and horrified at the same time.
There was no sand. The ground had green bits sticking up out of it, green like I'd only seen near the Nile. The distinctive murky smell of the Nile wasn't pervading the air, only a tangy, dark scent that came directly from the ground.
I'm not home, I marveled internally. "Where am I?" I asked aloud.
I heard a started but foreign reply from the man crouching next to me. For Ra's sake, talk in a language I can understand! I screamed internally at the man, not expecting an answer.
Of course, I got one anyway. //Why do I keep hearing him--I think it's him--up here?// was the perplexed response.
I sat up and glowered at the man to hide my consternation. He could hear me? I could hear him? We weren't even talking! At least, not in a language the other understood.
Or were we...?
/Do you understand me?/ I thought pointedly, trying to make myself heard. It felt like fire and ice down my spine to talk like that...
//You're a spirit! You must be!// was the near-hysterical reply. //You speak no earthly language, you walk through walls without a scratch on them or you, you're in my mind, you--I'm talking?!//
I looked over at the wall I'd fallen through. True enough, it was fully intact and so was I. I glared at it in a futile gesture for a few minutes, then turned back to the man. He was staring at me in no small amount of horror. Good. Fear. It was about time that I found myself in charge in one of these situations...
/No earthly language? Me in your mind? I was just thinking and you replied,/ I sneered. /And I don't know how you witched the wall, but I--/ I slammed my hand casually into the ground, then gaped down at my fingers, panic choking my words off in my throat.
My hand had gone clean through the ground. I'd felt no impact. I felt nothing at all but shock. No dirt pressing on my skin, no nothing. I jerked my hand back up and stared at it. No dirt marred the skin. I was pale again, I noted, pale and sickly, in my old clothes that fit like they used to. I'd grown to slightly over my old size. I was no longer a small child, but most likely the same age as the man in front of me. I nervously tugged the red fabric closed over my chest and the Ring dangling conspicuously on my front, then scowled into the middle distance, loathing of my fear thick in my mouth. I'd let one domineering little brat influence me and destroy all I'd been, all I'd made myself, and I was fading away...
Fading...
I looked at--no, through--myself. I was a faded wraith, a lifeless, lackluster spirit with bleached-sand hair and skin, a monster with its will sucked dry and its mind corrupted forever...
/No, no, no, I will not let him do that to me!/ I screamed. "No!"
I suddenly felt heavy, glued to the ground in one swift jolt, which came racing up to meet me and--
I blinked. I was warm. I was dry. I was relatively comfortable. I was confused as all hell. "What...where am I?"
//Can you hear me?// I noticed in a sudden rush that there was someone weighing down the surface I was on to my left, and it had been there all along...
I yelped and rolled away, almost falling off of the soft thing and hitting the floor, flailing wildly as I did so. I probably would have been eating floorboards if the man hadn't grabbed me and pulled me back next to him. I tensed, waiting for the right moment to escape...
//Can you hear me?// he repeated, looking steadily down at me without blinking or making any sudden moves. I knew then what a cornered animal felt like. //I swear by my honor that I will not harm you. I won't hurt you. Can you hear me?//
/Yes,/ I finally answered.
The man smiled broadly. //Oh, good. So we can communicate,// he said, sounding relieved.
/So we can,/ I answered warily. Well, at least he wasn't jumping on me and ordering me around. Yet.
//Why are you afraid?// the man asked perceptively. //You're the spirit. It is I who should be afraid,// he mused, sounding puzzled. //But I'm not afraid. Not at all. Not of anything, really.//
/You're not?/ I asked incredulously. I simply couldn't comprehend a life without fear, having lived the way I'd done. /You're not afraid at all...of anything?/
The man considered. //Well, I suppose that there are things that make me nervous to think of, but I'm not afraid at the moment, no.//
I stared.
//I see I've startled you,// the man said wryly. //I don't suppose we could ignore the fact that you seem to be a telepathic spirit who popped out of nowhere when I put on my new charm and observe the proper niceties, but I'll try. My name is Zane.//
I looked again at his Millennium Ring, then down at my chest where my jacket had fallen open again. The glimmering hoop hung there, mocking me.
When your second host has completed two years with you, we will meet again...
I swallowed. I knew, deep in my heart, that I was forever tied to this cursed golden charm, and that any fool enough to put it on risked death...
Or maybe...maybe it was just Micky...
/I am Bakura,/ I said slowly. /The tomb robber that evaded even the pharaoh and death itself, doomed to curse those who wear my Ring and do not deserve it./
//What, like me?// Zane asked, looking amused.
That wasn't the response I'd expected. /I don't know. I won't know for a while./
Zane shrugged. //Then why does it matter?//
I returned the shrug. /I don't know if it does. What happened to me?/ I asked, changing the subject quickly before the sinking feeling I was getting made me feel any worse.
Zane looked slightly concerned as he thought back. //You started screaming something in here,// he said, tapping his head, //then you ended with something out loud in your language. And then you went all solid and knocked your head on the ground, really hard. I didn't know if you'd ever wake up, or if I should let you sleep, but since you're a spirit I didn't know if you could die. But you're all right now, aren't you?// he inquired gently, peering closely at my face.
I felt...odd when he asked that. Like I'd swallowed icy needles that were shattering and lancing into my veins, and I felt so cold and yet I was burning...
/I feel...weird,/ I said shakily, averting my gaze from his face.
//Describe this 'weird'.// Zane pushed me back onto the soft thing, still keeping me half-pinned under him. He was studying me with curiosity and worry and something oh so familiar from those lecherous guards who'd--
I swallowed a whimper and tried to glare balefully at Zane instead. The expression failed pitifully, and I found myself staring at him instead, and the lust in his face was overpowering everything else. It was unfounded and strange and it looked like it belonged there, not making a mockery of him like it had those guards...
The ice burned in my veins, searing me with cold as Zane shoved my shirt open and back, kissing me relentlessly, running hands and mouth and teeth over my face and body. And oddly enough, resistance was the last thing on my mind.
I must have been freezing to the touch, because Zane was practically scorching my skin with every fleeting moment of contact, running fingers down my spine and over every bone brought to the surface of my skin by way of emaciation. Fire wound around me, and then I was lost and screaming, writhing in his arms and confused and amazed that there was no intention to hurt or to own in his touch, just...fire and ice.
Is this meant to be? I don't know. I'll never know. I'll never truly know. Not even if he's Judged. I'll never know...but hell with philosophy, I want...
Later, Zane simply held me against him, silently communicating a complete lack of interest in letting me go. I didn't much care, to be honest. It was probably the first time I'd ever not minded being held somewhere.
//Did I hurt you?// Zane whispered in my mind, the first coherent thing he'd said in a long time.
/Yes,/ I replied blissfully. /Will you...again?/
//This is so...this is so...I just...we just...you're a spirit from inside some cursed piece of metal, and...and I just met you, and I'm supposed to find a nice girl and get married--//
I promptly bit his collarbone to shut him up, drawing blood and licking my predator's teeth. /I'm a blaspheming thief from gods know how long ago, and I...and no one has ever...no one has ever made me happy like this,/ I said lamely. /You want what's supposed to happen? What's supposed to happen is that I'm dead and you never met me. Fuck that,/ I said eloquently.
//Again, you say?// Zane replied, prying my mouth off of his neck and tilting my head back.
/Oh, Hathor, please,/ I whispered plaintively, not caring how much my weakness showed, and gave myself completely up to the fire.
I never cared how weak I was in front of him. I never cared about anything with Zane. All I could think about was all the things I'd suffered through diminishing, and that Zane...I think he loved me, and I...I couldn't name what I felt, but maybe it was something along similar lines.
I led a sheltered life, losing all notion of time, staying awake by night and sleeping by day, being dizzy and not thinking of the future, two twisted lovers not meant to be. In the back of our minds, we knew that this wouldn't last, wasn't meant to come out, and we clung to each other all the more frantically for it, spending all our time together in perfect accord, leaving no room for any disharmonious element.
So when I woke up at midnight one night with the familiar but forgotten gut-wrenching fear rushing through me in cold eddies, staring at Zane as he whispered, //Two years, Bakura. It's been two years. You feel it too? Like something's going to happen?//
We will meet again...
/Zane...Zane!/ I screeched, panicked. /Two years...we only have two years! And they're up!/
//Bakura, talk sense,// Zane said reassuringly. //Tell me slowly and carefully what's going on.//
/I'm not having a nightmare!/ I screamed, knowing that it was what he thought. /The Judgment.../ I began, going on to breathlessly describe my tortured year with the little brat Micky and the bloody end he'd met at my hands. /I'm going to have to kill you,/ I choked out. I'd never killed anyone like Zane before, never killed anyone who made me feel...
I felt Kaitei appear in the room as Zane looked at me with amused disbelief.
I rose jerkily and crossed the room, someone pulling the strings to move my limbs and make me walk. Zane followed me with his eyes, confusion and skepticism showing in his eyes as Kaitei steadied me.
I looked back at Kaitei. "Why...?"
Kaitei's face was startlingly blank. "Why not? Are you so sure that he is a pretender?"
"I...yes...no..." I said, looking at my hands. I could almost see the old bloodstains, making my tanned, cruel hands tawny red in an odd counterpoint to the golden skin. Then the illusion faded, and my hands were white and delicate again, unsullied by blood. "In the end, I return to my true nature," I said softly. "I am always a killer to get what I want."
"Do you want him dead?" Kaitei inquired.
"No," I replied. "But I have no choice in what I want. I am a tool of the Ring, a mere machination so that it will find its true host. I'm its puppet, put into place by a malicious pharaoh with too much free time and too much hatred."
"We seven are all puppets," Kaitei told me. "There are seven of us, seven with power, power that only one of us will ultimately control. We are puppets drawn to our puppetmasters, who will then fight for the world."
"Why can't we be the puppetmasters?" I demanded fiercely. "Why can't we control these?" I tugged on the Ring angrily. "Why can't I stop myself from killing him?"
Kaitei turned away from me, looking directly at Zane. "Potential pretender who may have desecrated the purity of the Millennium Ring, I now put you on trial. If you are truly the one destined to wear the Ring, as you may well be owing to the fact that you have not been incinerated upon your wearing of this sacred item, you will be granted eternal life and a wealth of power. However, you still may be a pretender and unworthy to continue life. If you are thus, then this servant of Seshat will terminate you immediately following your Judgment," Kaisei said softly, gesturing to me. "Are you ready to be put on trial?"
Zane must have somehow understood Kaisei, because he said something that sounded like an affirmation.
Black smoke whispered from his mouth and settled in a cloud on one of the pans of the Scales.
Kaisei turned to me. "Will you seal his destiny?" he said.
No! I screamed, fighting for control of the malicious Ring around my neck. "If he is a pretender, let him die by my hands," my mouth said as my mind scrabbled for the power to subdue this ancient magic. A glimmering black ring settled on the scales. Zane's smoke vastly outweighed it.
I was still kicking and screaming mentally as I plunged the knife that materialized in my hand into Zane's heart. The look of betrayal on his face only kicked me into a wilder frenzy.
"I will master the Ring," I gritted out, dipping my hands in the blood and closing Zane's sightless blue eyes. I began licking roughly at the red goo on my fingers, the blood running in rivulets down my dissolving hands. "I'll master them all!" I swore in a snarl. "They'll all bow to me, and I'll pull the strings! I'll rule the fucking world!"
Blackness followed this statement, searing it into my soul--
...
Ryou's ice under my fingers. I can't feel him at all, but I know he's there...
"And then you started a one-man quest to conquer the world," he says. "I...I understand, now."
"That was only the beginning," I assured him. "And I will conquer the world. I've lost so much...I deserve my own planet. I deserve something of my own, something that will never leave me."
Ryou smiles suddenly. "You have me."
I close my eyes against that sunny smile, which bites me to the core. "Do I?" I ask. "I don't know. I lost all certainty of anything after Zane. I lost everything to him, and the one who came after did her best to decimate what wasn't there..."
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