Eheh. So, you've decided to read it? I wont take it for granted, and
so I ask you most humbly to review. I obviously don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! (but I
could change that!), which is owned by Bandai entertainment and Konami. I
don't own any of the characters, except the tall, robed, hooded figure. One
more thing: if you know what Seto and Ryou Bakura were, a long, long time
ago, then this story will make all the more sense. Enjoy!
He was hanging from the low, grimy grey ceiling on a pair of glossy, brass like chains. The platform he was suspended over was the same, colourless grey as the ceiling; the walls were the same shade and material, giving the small yet vast room a seemless quality. His clothing hung in tatters around his mutilated body and they were all the same sensless shade of scarlet, despite the fact that they, too, once had colours of their own; mainly dark colours, but no red, none whatsoever.
The darkness seemed to take shape, suddenly. A tall, robed and hooded figure was aprroaching him up the small flight of stairs that led to the platform, arms before it, crossed over his chest in a stereotypical Egyptian way. One hand was balled in a fist, holding what appeared to be a golden rod topped by a sphere, which had the Eye of Horus fixated on the front. The other hand held a very cruel looking wepon, crossing between a knife and a staff. The figure did neither halt or hesitate as it came to him, but stopped a good five feet away; he could see the figures eyes glowing at him from beneith the hood, giving him the impression that the figure was made of darkness and two balls of light. The person adressed him in a different language that was both familiar and unfamiliar to him, and withdrew the knife/staff and lunged at him with it. It rammed through his abdominum, through his spine and out his back; the pain was horrendous, he tried not to scream, but it came anyway, through clenched teeth. When the figure twisted the staff his tight scream evolved into a raw scream that tore at his vocal cords... And all he could do was scream and scream and scream and....
* * *
In another time, in another place, but the same soul and body, Seto Kaiba awoke in his spacious bed giving a raw throated scream that tore at his vocal cords. In his abdominum, there was a horrendous cramp that seemed to have no regard for space or bones; his nerves were jangling as though he was just stuck by lightning. Seto was screaming more from fear at that uncannily real dream he had just had rather than the cramp in his stomach that he could seem to do nothing about except clutch in agony.
A small form, distinguished from the other bedclothing lumps only by the fact it was breathing, emerged from under the blankets, throwing them back in something like panic.
"Seto! Seto! Please stop screaming! What's wrong?!" The little figure, now distinguishable as a boy by its voice, cried in panic. Seto Kaiba stopped screaming by clenching his teeth and unconciously running out of air. The scream died down into horrible, racking sobs and tremors through his body. His hands were still clutched around his stomach, mostly because of his inability to move from his previous position than from the pain in his stomach. The pain was fading quite quickly, almost as if it had not been there at all. Seto became slowly concious of the fact that small, warm hands were stroking his back and that someone was whispering comfort into his ear.
Sometime during the night, Mokuba Kaiba, Seto's littler brother, had climbed into his bed with the usual problems of childish nightmares. As usual, Kaiba had asked what the matter was and enfolded his smaller brother with his arms and rocked the little boy as he spoke into silence.
"M-mokuba." Seto whispered in a guteral stutter. He was vaugely aware of their roles of older and littler brother had become reversed. Small, firm hands were pushing him back to the bed and the lip of a bottle was being pressed to his mouth. If it had been poison, Seto wouldn't have cared; he drank with the passion of a long run horse. The pain in his throat lessened and his mind and vision seemed to clear; Mokuba's concerned face was hanging over his.
"Did you have a nightmare?" Asked the little boy in a whisper. Seto managed a smile and nodded.
"You've got... school tomorrow kid. Lay back down; try to get to sleep." Mokuba took his brothers bluntness with a grain of salt and dropped down like a rock beside him, snuggling his small face into Seto's chest. Very soon he drifted off to sleep, his breathing becoming peacful and even. It took longer for Seto to fall asleep. He really wasn't interested in meeting the black robed figure again.... However, in the end Seto Kaiba fell back asleep, despite numerous attempts at staying awake. And the kami were kind and blessed him with a dreamless slumber.
* * *
This was stupid. He was a billionare with a mega-corporation that spanned over Japan and parts of Eurasia; he was a genius with an I.Q. over 150. But he was still made to go to school. The kami, sometimes, could be very cruel and ironic, reflected Seto Kaiba as he pushed part of a rice ball into his mouth. He glanced, mundanely, over at the clock; twenty more minutes to school. As he glanced back to his breakfast he caught Mokuba's solicticious stare and did a double take to look directly at him.
"What's wrong, kid?" He asked, knitting his brows and looking at his brother with his lapis lazuli blue eyes. Mokuba shook his head slowly, almost sadly.
"You're sure you're okay, big brother." He asked, very, very softly.
"Yeah. I'm fine." Answered Seto, confounded at his brother's behaivor. "Look, Mokuba, we've got to get to school pretty soon, so wrap up your breakfast and make sure to brush your teeth." Seto got up from his seat at the breakfast table and made to the phone to call for a ride.
* * *
"-And that takes your life points down to zero. Next time, don't get your head so swollen that you challange a regional dueling champion. Loser." Seto Kaiba said without a trace of sympathy or kindness in his voice. He got up from his seat at the long Science table and turned away from his recently demolished oppenent. God. Study Hall was so boring!
Still looking over his shoulder at his shocked and nearly crying opponent, he started to walk away, only to collide with a person nearly his height but not close to his weight. Seto whipped his head forward, feeling his brown hair stinging his forehead, just as the person staggered and grabbed Seto's arm to hold their balance. It was that new-comer, the transfer student to Domino High, who had just moved here three months ago. The boy, Seto could call him a boy because he was a paltry sixteen while Seto was seventeen, looked at him placidly with his chocolate brown eyes, his pale skin and white, luminescent hair lending him an angelic quality. Even the bullies generally left this one alone; there was something about this boy that was entierly unsetteling. Not as though the boy had done anything sinister; indeed he usualy drifted around the school as silently and sadly as a phantom, but...
"You know, you're a lot like you used to be." Said the boy abruptly, voice as soft and sighing as a dying summer breeze. "You haven't changed. At all. It makes me wonder if you'll ever learn." The boy touched the spot where Seto's previous cramp had been (the exact spot where the tall, hooded, robed figure had impaled him) and abruptly, the cramp was back, though not has horrible as it had been.
"But there's still time. You may learn as of yet." Ryou Bakura was saying and he walked away.
Seto Kaiba was stuck by these words like a slap in the face. Perhaps that was the reason he remembered this encouter vividly for several weeks, when it finally sank back into his mind and lurked in his subconcious. But Seto Kaiba couldn't deny the hook that Ryou Bakura had put into his brain, which slowly, ever so slowly, was pulling him to an unknown, but oddly familiar, destination...
He was hanging from the low, grimy grey ceiling on a pair of glossy, brass like chains. The platform he was suspended over was the same, colourless grey as the ceiling; the walls were the same shade and material, giving the small yet vast room a seemless quality. His clothing hung in tatters around his mutilated body and they were all the same sensless shade of scarlet, despite the fact that they, too, once had colours of their own; mainly dark colours, but no red, none whatsoever.
The darkness seemed to take shape, suddenly. A tall, robed and hooded figure was aprroaching him up the small flight of stairs that led to the platform, arms before it, crossed over his chest in a stereotypical Egyptian way. One hand was balled in a fist, holding what appeared to be a golden rod topped by a sphere, which had the Eye of Horus fixated on the front. The other hand held a very cruel looking wepon, crossing between a knife and a staff. The figure did neither halt or hesitate as it came to him, but stopped a good five feet away; he could see the figures eyes glowing at him from beneith the hood, giving him the impression that the figure was made of darkness and two balls of light. The person adressed him in a different language that was both familiar and unfamiliar to him, and withdrew the knife/staff and lunged at him with it. It rammed through his abdominum, through his spine and out his back; the pain was horrendous, he tried not to scream, but it came anyway, through clenched teeth. When the figure twisted the staff his tight scream evolved into a raw scream that tore at his vocal cords... And all he could do was scream and scream and scream and....
* * *
In another time, in another place, but the same soul and body, Seto Kaiba awoke in his spacious bed giving a raw throated scream that tore at his vocal cords. In his abdominum, there was a horrendous cramp that seemed to have no regard for space or bones; his nerves were jangling as though he was just stuck by lightning. Seto was screaming more from fear at that uncannily real dream he had just had rather than the cramp in his stomach that he could seem to do nothing about except clutch in agony.
A small form, distinguished from the other bedclothing lumps only by the fact it was breathing, emerged from under the blankets, throwing them back in something like panic.
"Seto! Seto! Please stop screaming! What's wrong?!" The little figure, now distinguishable as a boy by its voice, cried in panic. Seto Kaiba stopped screaming by clenching his teeth and unconciously running out of air. The scream died down into horrible, racking sobs and tremors through his body. His hands were still clutched around his stomach, mostly because of his inability to move from his previous position than from the pain in his stomach. The pain was fading quite quickly, almost as if it had not been there at all. Seto became slowly concious of the fact that small, warm hands were stroking his back and that someone was whispering comfort into his ear.
Sometime during the night, Mokuba Kaiba, Seto's littler brother, had climbed into his bed with the usual problems of childish nightmares. As usual, Kaiba had asked what the matter was and enfolded his smaller brother with his arms and rocked the little boy as he spoke into silence.
"M-mokuba." Seto whispered in a guteral stutter. He was vaugely aware of their roles of older and littler brother had become reversed. Small, firm hands were pushing him back to the bed and the lip of a bottle was being pressed to his mouth. If it had been poison, Seto wouldn't have cared; he drank with the passion of a long run horse. The pain in his throat lessened and his mind and vision seemed to clear; Mokuba's concerned face was hanging over his.
"Did you have a nightmare?" Asked the little boy in a whisper. Seto managed a smile and nodded.
"You've got... school tomorrow kid. Lay back down; try to get to sleep." Mokuba took his brothers bluntness with a grain of salt and dropped down like a rock beside him, snuggling his small face into Seto's chest. Very soon he drifted off to sleep, his breathing becoming peacful and even. It took longer for Seto to fall asleep. He really wasn't interested in meeting the black robed figure again.... However, in the end Seto Kaiba fell back asleep, despite numerous attempts at staying awake. And the kami were kind and blessed him with a dreamless slumber.
* * *
This was stupid. He was a billionare with a mega-corporation that spanned over Japan and parts of Eurasia; he was a genius with an I.Q. over 150. But he was still made to go to school. The kami, sometimes, could be very cruel and ironic, reflected Seto Kaiba as he pushed part of a rice ball into his mouth. He glanced, mundanely, over at the clock; twenty more minutes to school. As he glanced back to his breakfast he caught Mokuba's solicticious stare and did a double take to look directly at him.
"What's wrong, kid?" He asked, knitting his brows and looking at his brother with his lapis lazuli blue eyes. Mokuba shook his head slowly, almost sadly.
"You're sure you're okay, big brother." He asked, very, very softly.
"Yeah. I'm fine." Answered Seto, confounded at his brother's behaivor. "Look, Mokuba, we've got to get to school pretty soon, so wrap up your breakfast and make sure to brush your teeth." Seto got up from his seat at the breakfast table and made to the phone to call for a ride.
* * *
"-And that takes your life points down to zero. Next time, don't get your head so swollen that you challange a regional dueling champion. Loser." Seto Kaiba said without a trace of sympathy or kindness in his voice. He got up from his seat at the long Science table and turned away from his recently demolished oppenent. God. Study Hall was so boring!
Still looking over his shoulder at his shocked and nearly crying opponent, he started to walk away, only to collide with a person nearly his height but not close to his weight. Seto whipped his head forward, feeling his brown hair stinging his forehead, just as the person staggered and grabbed Seto's arm to hold their balance. It was that new-comer, the transfer student to Domino High, who had just moved here three months ago. The boy, Seto could call him a boy because he was a paltry sixteen while Seto was seventeen, looked at him placidly with his chocolate brown eyes, his pale skin and white, luminescent hair lending him an angelic quality. Even the bullies generally left this one alone; there was something about this boy that was entierly unsetteling. Not as though the boy had done anything sinister; indeed he usualy drifted around the school as silently and sadly as a phantom, but...
"You know, you're a lot like you used to be." Said the boy abruptly, voice as soft and sighing as a dying summer breeze. "You haven't changed. At all. It makes me wonder if you'll ever learn." The boy touched the spot where Seto's previous cramp had been (the exact spot where the tall, hooded, robed figure had impaled him) and abruptly, the cramp was back, though not has horrible as it had been.
"But there's still time. You may learn as of yet." Ryou Bakura was saying and he walked away.
Seto Kaiba was stuck by these words like a slap in the face. Perhaps that was the reason he remembered this encouter vividly for several weeks, when it finally sank back into his mind and lurked in his subconcious. But Seto Kaiba couldn't deny the hook that Ryou Bakura had put into his brain, which slowly, ever so slowly, was pulling him to an unknown, but oddly familiar, destination...