~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"There was a boy . . .
A very strange, ~enchanted~ boy.
They say he wandered very far,
--very far--
over land and sea . . .
A little shy, and sad of eye
but very wise, was he.
And then one day,
one magic day, he passed my way.
While we spoke of many things,
fools and kings,
this he said to me:
'The greatest thing you'll ever learn
is just to love . . . and be loved in return'"
- Massive Attack & David Bowie, "Nature Boy"
~*~*~*~
. . . But this story begins in darkness, as many tales do.
Not precisely the sort of physical darkness that has become most familiar to us; the sort that clouds your vision with shadows and veils mystery. Mystery which is often dangerous, but not nearly as dangerous as other sorts.
No, this was a deep darkness of the heart, of a kind that swallowed up all of Ryou's already sparse hopes of escape.
He had no idea where he was, how long he had been there, and a lot of other things that gave him a disconcerted outlook on his memory; he just didn't know enough for everything to fit soundly. As far as he knew, he was innocent.
But if he were innocent, why would they place him here? This . . . prison of all prisons.
/Azkaban./ He knew, or the other captives did.
There were others, in other cells that probably resembled his, whose minds strayed dangerously close enough to the familiar Shadow Realm that they were mostly still intact, but easy to access. Though Ryou often disregarded the Eye's urgings to violate other minds, he could hardly ignore anything with such open consciousness' anymore.
He didn't really have much control over what he thought, because just from the overloaded profound emotion he could nearly ~taste~, he couldn't block the leaks that sprung up from around him and seeped into his thoughts. Half of what he knew anymore was disjointed from everything else. Disorderly memories that ~hurt~.
He wondered sometimes if he was insane.
But he wasn't insane; Bakura had seen to that. He didn't appear as much as he used to, and on the rare occasion he did shimmer to sight he always said the same words:
//"You are innocent, Ryou."//
Was his name really Ryou? Was he really the little boy, the quiet boy, the hesitant boy whose life revolved around the neglect he never felt was important at the time?
/Mama never came back . . . /
Constantly, it seemed he recalled the most dreadful things; memories better left untouched that assaulted his thoughts. It was like being possessed in a play of his life, and not being able to change anything, just watching with horror ~everything~ he wanted to forget.
--When he sat, he thought of sitting alone in the kitchen, as the sunlight tried to reach to him and taunt him from his unfortunate solitude. He thought of getting kicked in the ribcage and left in a dry alley where all he could do was finger his dagger, and he didn't dare start anything more--
--When he lay, he remembered nearly drowning, 'her' fingers curled around his throat and pressing him into the bottom of the bathtub. Shivering in the desert night as he smelled urine, horses, and spicy sand--
--When he ran in place, at least it was something predictable; running away from something horrible. Fortunately, Ryou could not recall ever being ~caught~--
But when he stood still, he recalled the worst things. Mostly of ~her~, but . . .
--Everything burning. Running. People burning. Little sister unrecognizable and mangled as the flames moved on, but recognizably ~dead~--
--'She' walked away, as 'her' smile twisted into a dreadful grin. 'Her' eyes glowing dangerously, but 'she' didn't fight when they took 'her'--
/Mama, I loved you so much Mama./
He was too weak to cry anymore; for anyone.
~*~*~*~
Ryou awoke to reality with a spinning head that made his stomach churn, but he pushed the sickened feeling out of his immediate realization to check that he was actually experiencing reality, and not some sick alternate one of horrid recollection and nightmares.
As soon as his surroundings registered, he felt his shoulders relax from the almost-permanent tension that hung about his body. Wiping off cold sweat from his nervously twitching brow, he finally slumped into the hard surface (maybe concrete) breathing steady, but never easily. He shivered.
His head lolled back so he could see the grubby ceiling of his grubby cell, hanging with cobwebs that swayed dispassionately in the faintly felt sea breeze. Everything around him was gray, his clothes, his shadowed skin, his tiny cell, even the small glimpses of the stormy sea out of the barred window. However, there was a red feather stuck on the ceiling that had been there for as long as he could remember, that reminded him there was color in the world, and he wasn't entirely blind to it.
Ryou was exhausted for running in place so long, and he had long since fallen to the corner with his thin legs propped up and out, as he slouched to rest his elbows on his knees. The feather-like hair tickled his long, dark eyelashes, so he brushed them away from his face in a habitual motion, feeling the cold sweat on his temples make it stick to them like static.
It was becoming an unusually lengthened respite from dark Dreaming, and Ryou felt the dread building faithfully for another deep plunge into near- madness. It almost seemed to be taunting him somehow. Here, where he could just float away in insanity--
//You're innocent . . . innocent . . . // So faint, those familiar words were, he couldn't understand if they were just imagined.
Still wondering why he felt so blank inside rather than weighted down, he lowered his eyes, half-lidded in exhaustion, to the one open--barred-- window in his cell.
He scrambled up suddenly, wobbling a bit. There was ~sunlight~ coming through, even if it was filtered ominously through the steel bars. The salty air had dried out his lips, but far from realizing it was a bad habit, he licked them before carefully leaning on the wall, staring openly at such a rare sight.
*dementorsdon'tlikesunlikesun* He picked up unexpectedly before clamping down his barriers with a pained grimace, then turned back to the unremarkable setting as far as seaside views were concerned. *don'tliKESUNLIkesun*
Ryou shook his head and gripped his grimy hair as if to shake the unknown mind from his presence. Once he was certain even the tiniest mind-mutter quieted into silence, he began to wonder. Another hiss of a distant wave proceeded a biting breeze that contradicted the sunny setting.
/Dementor,/ he managed to think clearly without a violating interruption /what the hell's a Dementor?!/
Even without the normal cloud-cover to hinder the sun's mighty gaze to the water, it seemed dull, without noticeable sparkle and the sky was still more gray than blue. His eyes didn't reflect the rare image; they were dull and weary, devoid of shine.
Ryou sneezed, rubbing his reddish, very British nose.
It was strange, though. He had been in that cell for so long, long enough for the hope to dissipate to gloom, but this prison was quite unlike any jail he had ever heard of; he had not seen one warden or guard wander the corridors through his door's minute window. Ever.
But no one escaped.
He knew most of those thoughts were absolutely ridiculous, because something pushed in his food tray every day, didn't they? Ryou was always blind to the world in despair, so he never saw the tray ~actually~ be pushed in through the door, but he did eat, he was still alive, right?
Sort of alive. In technical, practical terms he was. But Ryou knew very well that he wouldn't ever be able to revert to his life of choice, false ignorance, even if he were ever given the chance. Which seemed highly unlikely, in all actuality of _his_ reality.
/Dementors . . . / his invisible or non-existing captors puzzled him to an easy contemplation that took up whatever boredom he could manage, for most of the time, but this new title, this new ~thing~ of whose name was hesitantly glorified in fear, ringing in the back of his mind, seemed more interesting at that moment.
For an odd reason, he repeatedly conjured the mental image of a humanoid rat in a straight-jacket. Wait, was he the rat in the straight-jacket . . . ?
The boy that had lost his name, laughed deeply and long, but without humor. Deranged, demented thing; Dementor?
//You are Ryou. An innocent.//
/Innocent./ he hummed without following a tune, the un-melody echoing around his tiny cell without structure, and sounding disconcerting in it's hollow quality. Slowly, he began to sway as his song became a little louder.
Then the clouds returned to their brightened, exposed master, and the flickering torchlight became the main light-source yet again for the chilled cell. As the darkness dropped into familiarity, Ryou began to stiffen an still again as he braced himself for something unexpected. Despite the warning signals of reason running rampant through his mind, he crept up to the locked door with the absolute silent grace of a cat, and he felt his eyes burn as the light became brighter and brighter.
When his eyes peered over the edge of the window warily, he saw nothing, but the dread still remained.
A still moment passed; a peaceful sort of moment. Then, quite suddenly:
--an inhuman shriek crowed through the corridors--a door slammed, forcefully--~something~ moved out of the corner of his eye, that had the supple grace of a worn cloak--
Ryou felt an involuntary shudder spread through his body, and for a split second he felt an agony through his bones that reminded him of a dream he had where all of his bones cracked inside muscle, but the sensation ended quickly, leaving him gaping for breath.
And then blackness, again. He was standing this time.
/~*~*~*~/
"MAMA!"
He remembered her distinctly as one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, with dark hair as straight as her expression, and lovely almond eyes that slanted slightly in improved, warm amber glory. The way her face was angular and her nose pointed out just ~so~ was firmly imprinted in his mind, and the thin smile she often wore that was constantly shrouded in mystery.
She was in the hands of some oddly dressed folk, now, her eyes narrowed, her lips contorted into a frightening smile. It was the same smile he had known forever, and yet it was only at that moment that he realized how menacing and frightening it really was. His mother was stiffly being led away from the playground near their house in England, and though their destination was pointedly ~away~ from little Ryou, she didn't struggle.
"I love you Mama! Don't go, don't leave me!"
He ran up to the group as quickly as his little legs could carry him, which wasn't very fast at all. Still, he caught up with the procession enough that a few of the men with the cold eyes took notice of him without emotion.
But 'she' was facing the other direction, suddenly laughing.
"Stupid boy." She cackled with considerable and specific mirth.
"Ma . . . ma . . . ?"
He took a step backward. His Mama had never acted like this before, and he was scared. More scared than he had ever been.
"You place your trust too easily, and that will be your pathetic downfall, boy." He heard her pause with amused seriousness that poisoned her sweet voice "Don't ever come for me; you're disgusting."
"Mama!"
"One day . . . one day I'll kill you though, little Ryou."
"No, MAMA!" /Why do you hate me, mother?! What happened?!/
~*~*~*~
//Up Ryou.//
His eyes flickered open again, with his sight very disoriented from the distinct lack of light that engulfed him entirely. Despite the fact that it was quite obviously night again, he could tell that his eyesight was blurry with fear, and muscles taught with tension.
//Up.//
He heaved himself up as his thin stomach drug a little on the stone floor. As his eyes adjusted to the lack of lighting, he saw a bit of a flicker coming through the door, and over the colorless meal of gruel he was allowed twice a day in the wooden bowl that stayed in his cell constantly.
Ryou's appetite was lost. He rubbed his slightly tearing eyes with the back of his saltwater-chapped hand, and just sat for a moment to reacquaint himself to lonely reality.
When he opened them again, his sight flooded back like sand, and it took another few seconds before he could see clearly again, what he didn't want to see. The flicker of torchlight reminded him of the last time his consciousness was regained; so convinced that he saw a flicker through the corridor, even as fleeting as it was. Then, feeling something quite unpleasant spread, as if he were cracking as easily as an eggshell.
But it was silent and deserted again. He faintly heard someone sobbing, and though he could not see the man, it fed his strength slightly to know that ~someone~ was there, though he couldn't see him. It was maddening to remember that he was in a sort of "solitary"; unable to see anything living besides the unfortunate, sickly insects that entered through the window.
Confined in solitude, confined in his own mind and the unknowing minds of others. Ryou made a hopeless sound, reminiscent of a dry sob to his knees as he drew them together, the thin robe draped hopelessly over his legs.
/I'll never get out, never ever./ The Ring pressed uncomfortably into his lean chest, jingling in distress.
//You are innocent Ryou.//
Bakura's voice even seemed as faded as his vision; as it was becoming harder and harder for him to communicate with his lighter half. Suddenly, his despair flared to anger.
"What's the point of being ~innocent~ when I'll NEVER GET OUT!"
Silence answered him.
Ryou slammed his fist onto the stone floor.
//Then ~leave~. Now.// A small push.
It would have been almost hilariously ridiculous a suggestion, but his body began to react in a way it was unfamiliar with. He trembled, and clutched the robe in his now claw-like fingers, breathing shakily and eyes widened frightfully.
Spasm after spasm became involuntary, he writhed on the ground, barely controlling howls of desperation, and then--
--Pain. The burning sort of, red-hot pain that twisted him in agony, turning his breath hot against his hand, and conjuring the acrid taste of bile in the back of his throat.
He was changing, but he didn't understand what was happening to him, only the pain ruled him as his eyes widened to instinctive madness.
Bakura was quiet, and didn't seem distressed, but he could have been just unable to speak as well. But he couldn't depend on his Yami all of the time.
When was the last time he had thought of him as his 'Yami'?
Twisting again so tightly, it seemed as though he was shrinking, sweat came forth to cool him, but inside of him, the burning continued. Then, came the very same 'cracking' sensation from before--
Ryou screamed. Still it continued.
// . . . Fly, Aibou. Fly.//
He spread his white wings and flew out of the bars, his lanky form appearing esoteric on the dreary night landscape.
//Fly.//
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Oh, I just seem absolutely ~abusive~ to poor wittle Wyou, don't I?
Oli: Not as abusive as you are to me.
*ignores Oli*
OH MY GOODNESS! People actually ~like~ it?! Wow, you fellow wierdos are the ~best~ . . . thank you guys, SO much for the encouragement ^^
I understand that this is only slightly less confusing than the prologue, but I am planning for the next chapter to be a sort of "explaining" one, regarding Bakura's unexpected wisdom, Ryou's unexpected escape, and Ryou's mother's unexpected values.
Hey, at least I'm somewhat spontaneous! ^^
Now as for pairings . . . everyone except for one of my reviewers had the same preference. And the one who was apposed from the rest, happened to be very convinced.
I will not name any particular names, but please, you know who you are, so I'm begging you to READ THIS before doing anything drastic.
The only reason there is a specific domination of guy/girl pairings around the world, is instinct. "Lust" I suppose you could call it, but it has been often claimed that "lust" and "love" are completely different things. That is why I believe that love HAS no boundaries, let alone the simple setbacks of gender.
Hormones in our bodies make us react the way we do, but many girls have guy hormones, and many guys have girl hormones; it's natural. Some girls are flat chested, some guys can't grow beards. So it is ~perfectly natural~ for gay pairings to happen in real life, and you shouldn't deprive them of happiness because of a simple prejudice going on throughout much of society these days.
You will meet many gay people in your life, just expect it.
Now, you don't have to ~particularly~ enjoy reading about them, but do realize that the same prejudice should occur in stories, giving yaoi/shonen- ai pairings a very interesting twist. Or at least they should.
If I choose to write one in this story, it'll be shonen-ai anyway, and nothing too drastic. Probably nothing more than a little snuggling, speeches, and a little kiss here and there, but if you want to appose me in my slight sway toward a shonen-ai pairing, just review with a valid point against me. I haven't decided yet, as you can see, because no romance will appear at least for another few chapters.
I will certainly take anything you say into account; I don't want people scarred and my story "ruined", after all.
(End speech)
I'm building up a soundtrack for this thing already, so if you're interested in hearing something from it, simply leave a request in your review and I'll (hopefully) e-mail a song to you, or directly e-mail me. Really, really cool songs I have here ^^
The lyrics at the beginning of this chapter are from "Nature Boy", which is actually a Nat King Cole song, though Massive Attack did a remix for it a while ago for the Moulin Rouge soundtrack. In the movie, it's the dark theme playing at the beginning, and I think maybe the end. It sounded appropriate as a theme for this story, somehow.
Anywho, I'm wondering if this is cliché . . . it seems like it ~should~ be, with the words I have been using throughout this past chapter (reading too many fantasy novels), so PLEASE tell me if you would prefer me writing a little more straightforward. I think I did a wretched job at my dramatics, but I'll let you be the judge of my worthiness ^^
Please review! Anything is accepted, even flames. Just be warned, though, I will reply back to nasty words without a point.
Thank you so much for even checking out this fic, I know people are busy. I just hope everyone enjoyed it so far!
Happy go lucky day to you all
giggle
"There was a boy . . .
A very strange, ~enchanted~ boy.
They say he wandered very far,
--very far--
over land and sea . . .
A little shy, and sad of eye
but very wise, was he.
And then one day,
one magic day, he passed my way.
While we spoke of many things,
fools and kings,
this he said to me:
'The greatest thing you'll ever learn
is just to love . . . and be loved in return'"
- Massive Attack & David Bowie, "Nature Boy"
~*~*~*~
. . . But this story begins in darkness, as many tales do.
Not precisely the sort of physical darkness that has become most familiar to us; the sort that clouds your vision with shadows and veils mystery. Mystery which is often dangerous, but not nearly as dangerous as other sorts.
No, this was a deep darkness of the heart, of a kind that swallowed up all of Ryou's already sparse hopes of escape.
He had no idea where he was, how long he had been there, and a lot of other things that gave him a disconcerted outlook on his memory; he just didn't know enough for everything to fit soundly. As far as he knew, he was innocent.
But if he were innocent, why would they place him here? This . . . prison of all prisons.
/Azkaban./ He knew, or the other captives did.
There were others, in other cells that probably resembled his, whose minds strayed dangerously close enough to the familiar Shadow Realm that they were mostly still intact, but easy to access. Though Ryou often disregarded the Eye's urgings to violate other minds, he could hardly ignore anything with such open consciousness' anymore.
He didn't really have much control over what he thought, because just from the overloaded profound emotion he could nearly ~taste~, he couldn't block the leaks that sprung up from around him and seeped into his thoughts. Half of what he knew anymore was disjointed from everything else. Disorderly memories that ~hurt~.
He wondered sometimes if he was insane.
But he wasn't insane; Bakura had seen to that. He didn't appear as much as he used to, and on the rare occasion he did shimmer to sight he always said the same words:
//"You are innocent, Ryou."//
Was his name really Ryou? Was he really the little boy, the quiet boy, the hesitant boy whose life revolved around the neglect he never felt was important at the time?
/Mama never came back . . . /
Constantly, it seemed he recalled the most dreadful things; memories better left untouched that assaulted his thoughts. It was like being possessed in a play of his life, and not being able to change anything, just watching with horror ~everything~ he wanted to forget.
--When he sat, he thought of sitting alone in the kitchen, as the sunlight tried to reach to him and taunt him from his unfortunate solitude. He thought of getting kicked in the ribcage and left in a dry alley where all he could do was finger his dagger, and he didn't dare start anything more--
--When he lay, he remembered nearly drowning, 'her' fingers curled around his throat and pressing him into the bottom of the bathtub. Shivering in the desert night as he smelled urine, horses, and spicy sand--
--When he ran in place, at least it was something predictable; running away from something horrible. Fortunately, Ryou could not recall ever being ~caught~--
But when he stood still, he recalled the worst things. Mostly of ~her~, but . . .
--Everything burning. Running. People burning. Little sister unrecognizable and mangled as the flames moved on, but recognizably ~dead~--
--'She' walked away, as 'her' smile twisted into a dreadful grin. 'Her' eyes glowing dangerously, but 'she' didn't fight when they took 'her'--
/Mama, I loved you so much Mama./
He was too weak to cry anymore; for anyone.
~*~*~*~
Ryou awoke to reality with a spinning head that made his stomach churn, but he pushed the sickened feeling out of his immediate realization to check that he was actually experiencing reality, and not some sick alternate one of horrid recollection and nightmares.
As soon as his surroundings registered, he felt his shoulders relax from the almost-permanent tension that hung about his body. Wiping off cold sweat from his nervously twitching brow, he finally slumped into the hard surface (maybe concrete) breathing steady, but never easily. He shivered.
His head lolled back so he could see the grubby ceiling of his grubby cell, hanging with cobwebs that swayed dispassionately in the faintly felt sea breeze. Everything around him was gray, his clothes, his shadowed skin, his tiny cell, even the small glimpses of the stormy sea out of the barred window. However, there was a red feather stuck on the ceiling that had been there for as long as he could remember, that reminded him there was color in the world, and he wasn't entirely blind to it.
Ryou was exhausted for running in place so long, and he had long since fallen to the corner with his thin legs propped up and out, as he slouched to rest his elbows on his knees. The feather-like hair tickled his long, dark eyelashes, so he brushed them away from his face in a habitual motion, feeling the cold sweat on his temples make it stick to them like static.
It was becoming an unusually lengthened respite from dark Dreaming, and Ryou felt the dread building faithfully for another deep plunge into near- madness. It almost seemed to be taunting him somehow. Here, where he could just float away in insanity--
//You're innocent . . . innocent . . . // So faint, those familiar words were, he couldn't understand if they were just imagined.
Still wondering why he felt so blank inside rather than weighted down, he lowered his eyes, half-lidded in exhaustion, to the one open--barred-- window in his cell.
He scrambled up suddenly, wobbling a bit. There was ~sunlight~ coming through, even if it was filtered ominously through the steel bars. The salty air had dried out his lips, but far from realizing it was a bad habit, he licked them before carefully leaning on the wall, staring openly at such a rare sight.
*dementorsdon'tlikesunlikesun* He picked up unexpectedly before clamping down his barriers with a pained grimace, then turned back to the unremarkable setting as far as seaside views were concerned. *don'tliKESUNLIkesun*
Ryou shook his head and gripped his grimy hair as if to shake the unknown mind from his presence. Once he was certain even the tiniest mind-mutter quieted into silence, he began to wonder. Another hiss of a distant wave proceeded a biting breeze that contradicted the sunny setting.
/Dementor,/ he managed to think clearly without a violating interruption /what the hell's a Dementor?!/
Even without the normal cloud-cover to hinder the sun's mighty gaze to the water, it seemed dull, without noticeable sparkle and the sky was still more gray than blue. His eyes didn't reflect the rare image; they were dull and weary, devoid of shine.
Ryou sneezed, rubbing his reddish, very British nose.
It was strange, though. He had been in that cell for so long, long enough for the hope to dissipate to gloom, but this prison was quite unlike any jail he had ever heard of; he had not seen one warden or guard wander the corridors through his door's minute window. Ever.
But no one escaped.
He knew most of those thoughts were absolutely ridiculous, because something pushed in his food tray every day, didn't they? Ryou was always blind to the world in despair, so he never saw the tray ~actually~ be pushed in through the door, but he did eat, he was still alive, right?
Sort of alive. In technical, practical terms he was. But Ryou knew very well that he wouldn't ever be able to revert to his life of choice, false ignorance, even if he were ever given the chance. Which seemed highly unlikely, in all actuality of _his_ reality.
/Dementors . . . / his invisible or non-existing captors puzzled him to an easy contemplation that took up whatever boredom he could manage, for most of the time, but this new title, this new ~thing~ of whose name was hesitantly glorified in fear, ringing in the back of his mind, seemed more interesting at that moment.
For an odd reason, he repeatedly conjured the mental image of a humanoid rat in a straight-jacket. Wait, was he the rat in the straight-jacket . . . ?
The boy that had lost his name, laughed deeply and long, but without humor. Deranged, demented thing; Dementor?
//You are Ryou. An innocent.//
/Innocent./ he hummed without following a tune, the un-melody echoing around his tiny cell without structure, and sounding disconcerting in it's hollow quality. Slowly, he began to sway as his song became a little louder.
Then the clouds returned to their brightened, exposed master, and the flickering torchlight became the main light-source yet again for the chilled cell. As the darkness dropped into familiarity, Ryou began to stiffen an still again as he braced himself for something unexpected. Despite the warning signals of reason running rampant through his mind, he crept up to the locked door with the absolute silent grace of a cat, and he felt his eyes burn as the light became brighter and brighter.
When his eyes peered over the edge of the window warily, he saw nothing, but the dread still remained.
A still moment passed; a peaceful sort of moment. Then, quite suddenly:
--an inhuman shriek crowed through the corridors--a door slammed, forcefully--~something~ moved out of the corner of his eye, that had the supple grace of a worn cloak--
Ryou felt an involuntary shudder spread through his body, and for a split second he felt an agony through his bones that reminded him of a dream he had where all of his bones cracked inside muscle, but the sensation ended quickly, leaving him gaping for breath.
And then blackness, again. He was standing this time.
/~*~*~*~/
"MAMA!"
He remembered her distinctly as one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, with dark hair as straight as her expression, and lovely almond eyes that slanted slightly in improved, warm amber glory. The way her face was angular and her nose pointed out just ~so~ was firmly imprinted in his mind, and the thin smile she often wore that was constantly shrouded in mystery.
She was in the hands of some oddly dressed folk, now, her eyes narrowed, her lips contorted into a frightening smile. It was the same smile he had known forever, and yet it was only at that moment that he realized how menacing and frightening it really was. His mother was stiffly being led away from the playground near their house in England, and though their destination was pointedly ~away~ from little Ryou, she didn't struggle.
"I love you Mama! Don't go, don't leave me!"
He ran up to the group as quickly as his little legs could carry him, which wasn't very fast at all. Still, he caught up with the procession enough that a few of the men with the cold eyes took notice of him without emotion.
But 'she' was facing the other direction, suddenly laughing.
"Stupid boy." She cackled with considerable and specific mirth.
"Ma . . . ma . . . ?"
He took a step backward. His Mama had never acted like this before, and he was scared. More scared than he had ever been.
"You place your trust too easily, and that will be your pathetic downfall, boy." He heard her pause with amused seriousness that poisoned her sweet voice "Don't ever come for me; you're disgusting."
"Mama!"
"One day . . . one day I'll kill you though, little Ryou."
"No, MAMA!" /Why do you hate me, mother?! What happened?!/
~*~*~*~
//Up Ryou.//
His eyes flickered open again, with his sight very disoriented from the distinct lack of light that engulfed him entirely. Despite the fact that it was quite obviously night again, he could tell that his eyesight was blurry with fear, and muscles taught with tension.
//Up.//
He heaved himself up as his thin stomach drug a little on the stone floor. As his eyes adjusted to the lack of lighting, he saw a bit of a flicker coming through the door, and over the colorless meal of gruel he was allowed twice a day in the wooden bowl that stayed in his cell constantly.
Ryou's appetite was lost. He rubbed his slightly tearing eyes with the back of his saltwater-chapped hand, and just sat for a moment to reacquaint himself to lonely reality.
When he opened them again, his sight flooded back like sand, and it took another few seconds before he could see clearly again, what he didn't want to see. The flicker of torchlight reminded him of the last time his consciousness was regained; so convinced that he saw a flicker through the corridor, even as fleeting as it was. Then, feeling something quite unpleasant spread, as if he were cracking as easily as an eggshell.
But it was silent and deserted again. He faintly heard someone sobbing, and though he could not see the man, it fed his strength slightly to know that ~someone~ was there, though he couldn't see him. It was maddening to remember that he was in a sort of "solitary"; unable to see anything living besides the unfortunate, sickly insects that entered through the window.
Confined in solitude, confined in his own mind and the unknowing minds of others. Ryou made a hopeless sound, reminiscent of a dry sob to his knees as he drew them together, the thin robe draped hopelessly over his legs.
/I'll never get out, never ever./ The Ring pressed uncomfortably into his lean chest, jingling in distress.
//You are innocent Ryou.//
Bakura's voice even seemed as faded as his vision; as it was becoming harder and harder for him to communicate with his lighter half. Suddenly, his despair flared to anger.
"What's the point of being ~innocent~ when I'll NEVER GET OUT!"
Silence answered him.
Ryou slammed his fist onto the stone floor.
//Then ~leave~. Now.// A small push.
It would have been almost hilariously ridiculous a suggestion, but his body began to react in a way it was unfamiliar with. He trembled, and clutched the robe in his now claw-like fingers, breathing shakily and eyes widened frightfully.
Spasm after spasm became involuntary, he writhed on the ground, barely controlling howls of desperation, and then--
--Pain. The burning sort of, red-hot pain that twisted him in agony, turning his breath hot against his hand, and conjuring the acrid taste of bile in the back of his throat.
He was changing, but he didn't understand what was happening to him, only the pain ruled him as his eyes widened to instinctive madness.
Bakura was quiet, and didn't seem distressed, but he could have been just unable to speak as well. But he couldn't depend on his Yami all of the time.
When was the last time he had thought of him as his 'Yami'?
Twisting again so tightly, it seemed as though he was shrinking, sweat came forth to cool him, but inside of him, the burning continued. Then, came the very same 'cracking' sensation from before--
Ryou screamed. Still it continued.
// . . . Fly, Aibou. Fly.//
He spread his white wings and flew out of the bars, his lanky form appearing esoteric on the dreary night landscape.
//Fly.//
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Oh, I just seem absolutely ~abusive~ to poor wittle Wyou, don't I?
Oli: Not as abusive as you are to me.
*ignores Oli*
OH MY GOODNESS! People actually ~like~ it?! Wow, you fellow wierdos are the ~best~ . . . thank you guys, SO much for the encouragement ^^
I understand that this is only slightly less confusing than the prologue, but I am planning for the next chapter to be a sort of "explaining" one, regarding Bakura's unexpected wisdom, Ryou's unexpected escape, and Ryou's mother's unexpected values.
Hey, at least I'm somewhat spontaneous! ^^
Now as for pairings . . . everyone except for one of my reviewers had the same preference. And the one who was apposed from the rest, happened to be very convinced.
I will not name any particular names, but please, you know who you are, so I'm begging you to READ THIS before doing anything drastic.
The only reason there is a specific domination of guy/girl pairings around the world, is instinct. "Lust" I suppose you could call it, but it has been often claimed that "lust" and "love" are completely different things. That is why I believe that love HAS no boundaries, let alone the simple setbacks of gender.
Hormones in our bodies make us react the way we do, but many girls have guy hormones, and many guys have girl hormones; it's natural. Some girls are flat chested, some guys can't grow beards. So it is ~perfectly natural~ for gay pairings to happen in real life, and you shouldn't deprive them of happiness because of a simple prejudice going on throughout much of society these days.
You will meet many gay people in your life, just expect it.
Now, you don't have to ~particularly~ enjoy reading about them, but do realize that the same prejudice should occur in stories, giving yaoi/shonen- ai pairings a very interesting twist. Or at least they should.
If I choose to write one in this story, it'll be shonen-ai anyway, and nothing too drastic. Probably nothing more than a little snuggling, speeches, and a little kiss here and there, but if you want to appose me in my slight sway toward a shonen-ai pairing, just review with a valid point against me. I haven't decided yet, as you can see, because no romance will appear at least for another few chapters.
I will certainly take anything you say into account; I don't want people scarred and my story "ruined", after all.
(End speech)
I'm building up a soundtrack for this thing already, so if you're interested in hearing something from it, simply leave a request in your review and I'll (hopefully) e-mail a song to you, or directly e-mail me. Really, really cool songs I have here ^^
The lyrics at the beginning of this chapter are from "Nature Boy", which is actually a Nat King Cole song, though Massive Attack did a remix for it a while ago for the Moulin Rouge soundtrack. In the movie, it's the dark theme playing at the beginning, and I think maybe the end. It sounded appropriate as a theme for this story, somehow.
Anywho, I'm wondering if this is cliché . . . it seems like it ~should~ be, with the words I have been using throughout this past chapter (reading too many fantasy novels), so PLEASE tell me if you would prefer me writing a little more straightforward. I think I did a wretched job at my dramatics, but I'll let you be the judge of my worthiness ^^
Please review! Anything is accepted, even flames. Just be warned, though, I will reply back to nasty words without a point.
Thank you so much for even checking out this fic, I know people are busy. I just hope everyone enjoyed it so far!
Happy go lucky day to you all
giggle