Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takahashi.
And now the site isn't allowing the brackets around Yami Bakura's dialogue. What is going on here? Are they going to disallow the fucking parentheses next?
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#4: The Emperor
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Ryou shut and locked the door behind him, and slid out of his shoes. He put his slippers on almost absently before setting his case on the kitchen table a few feet away.
The burger he'd eaten with Yuugi had been okay, but it had been lacking . . . something. He hadn't been hungry when he'd eaten it -- he hadn't been hungry for the past three days, if he was willing to think about it, which he wasn't -- and he hadn't been full afterwards, either. It was like he hadn't eaten at all. The same thing had happened with his lunch at school.
Rather than acknowledge the implications of this, Ryou did his homework. He watched TV in place of eating dinner, and went to bed at the same time as usual.
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It was two days later when he woke up in the middle of the night, stomach growling.
Ryou sat up in the fold-out bed that his couch converted to, hands splayed over his stomach. He stared down at the covers almost blankly, before glancing across the room towards the kitchen. He had all the fixings for sandwiches there, or he could make some soup . . . and there was even some teriyaki chicken in the refrigerator that was probably going bad by now. . . .
(There's nothing in there that's going to satisfy this, and you know it,) Bakura said flatly. (Lying to yourself is stupid, landlord.)
No. . . . Ryou shivered and closed his eyes. I didn't want it to be real. . . .
(What are you whining about?) the spirit asked in a bored tone. (I told you I'll do the killing for you.)
Ryou shivered again and wrapped his arms around his chest. I don't want to kill anyone!
(Too bad. You don't have a choice.)
God. . . .
(Your deities don't anything to do with you anymore,) Bakura replied. (Now go get dressed, and I'll find something to eat.)
Ryou's hands clenched into fists. Someone! I'm not going to kill anyone! I'm not!
Bakura's voice was growing irritated. (You're a vampire, landlord. It's what you do.)
NO!
(. . . Keh. Fine,) Bakura snarled. (Don't eat. Maybe after you've starved for another day or two, you'll be reasonable.) The spirit's presence withdrew abruptly from his mind.
Ryou bent over and rested his forehead on his knees, his arms still pressed against his torso. When his stomach growled once more, a strangled cry escaped from his throat and he shook his head rapidly, pressing his face against his legs.
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When Ryou finally fell asleep again, it was curled up on his side with his legs pulled up to his chest, tear tracks dried on his cheeks, and the hunger eating away at his resolve.