::Soul Prism::
Disclaimer: See my other fanfiction's disclaimers, then you'll understand.
A/N: I was inspired by a reviewer's pen name, tamashiipurizuma, for the title and to write this. I dunno. R&R!!
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prism (n): an optical device having a triangular shape and made of glass or quartz; used to deviate a beam or invert an image.
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The music box was open. The small, high-pitched music that emitted from it was slow and sweet. And he stooped over it, watching the small, metal sticks that were arranged in something that looked like a matchbox being plucked by the bumps on the turning cylander that resembled a thread spool. The music box, in shape, was a piano, fit with all fifty-two keys. Both black and white. The small stands were golden and the rest of it was clear glass, or, at least, he thought it was glass.
His soft, crystalline tears would fall silently as he whispered her name. As he lamented over his lost sister, "Amane." For the music box had once been hers. And her dreams and hopes still lived inside of him. And haunted him. Everytime he went to bed at night and dreamed, he would either see the malicious face of Bakura or see the soft figure of the sister he never knew. When he was having a particularily cruel dream, he would see both. His malevolent Yami would draw his knife slowly across Ryou's skin. And it wouldn't burn or hurt. And then, he would see his sister, reaching out to him, begging him to join her in the afterlife. Bakura's taunting purrs still echoed in Ryou's ears, "Yes, join your sister... in hell!" And then he would laugh and strike Ryou down with a bloody blow.
Thus was the fate of Ryou Bakura: To be taunted forevermore by his Yami and haunted by his long dead sister. And, only on quiet, dreamless nights, was Ryou ever truly content. His broken body laid out on his bed, tired from the day at school or the beating from his drunken father, depending whether it was past happy hour and what day of the week it was.
He greeted the morning with nothing more of a moan of pain or a groan, dreading that final math assignment or that it was Saturday, which meant his father would be out past midnight and awaken Ryou with his drunken ramblings when he got back home. Sunday was the day he got a rest from it all. If Ryou was lucky, his father would have a dreadful hangover and would be in bed the whole day, leaving him able to romp around with the usual gang, many of whom, had their own problems.
Jonouchi Katsuya was a perverted, ex-gang member. His father, like Ryou's, was an alchoholic. His sister, Shizuka, however, was very much alive. Narrowly escaped being blind for the rest of her life, but alive. Jonouchi's mother and father had seperated at an early age in Jonouchi's life. He's not sure what age. But, he guesses around five or six. And his family doesn't care about him, with the exception of Shizuka, who adores her brother and idolizes him. Jonouchi has honey-colored hair and soft, chocolate brown eyes that sparkle with humor. Shizuka's hair is cinnamon red and her eyes are a bright, lively green. You almost saw no resemblence between the two at all, except for their personalities were very much alike. They both loved life.
Yuugi Mouto was the short kid. A regular bully magnent, which, of course, was one of his main flaws. One couldn't even call it a flaw. It wasn't his fault he was so short. And his hair was a mere blur of red, yellow, and black; his eyes were round and purple. He could have very well been the pure essence of innocence. His mother was still around, though his father traveled often, and was hardly ever home. Therefore, he lived with his grandfather, Solomon Mouto. The old man was wise and fun-loving; and just about as short as Yuugi. He always wore a orange bandanna around his greying hair. And his eyes were purple, just the same, though they lacked the round, innocent-ness that filled Yuugi's. They were sterner, and looked as if he'd seen many things he wished he hadn't.
Anzu Mizaki was the brown-haired, brown-eyed optimistic one. Well, more optomistic than Yuugi, anyway. If that was even mentally possible. One of her highest values was friendship and not to be pushed around. She had even given Jonouchi his fair share of slappings whenever he even tried to flip her skirt up at school. All in all, she was the gentle-hearted tomboy of the group. She never really talked about her parents much, as if they were some deep, dark secret that no one was entitled to know but her.
Then, there was Seto Kaiba. The arrogant CEO of the world wide Kaiba Corp sometimes tagged along. Ryou thought that it was just to make Jonouchi's life miserable. Other times, he thought the corporate executive was just lonely. Hey, he was a teenager, too, and had a craving for a social life. He had short, brown hair and icy blue eyes that sparkled with the love for his little brother, Mokuba. Who was only about thirteen with raven black hair and the same blue eyes his big brother, niisama, had.
With another groan, Ryou slipped out of bed. It was Sunday, the best day of the week for him, other than the fact that school would start up again tomorrow and there was a history test he would be up all night studying for. He slipped jeans over his boxers and a shirt over his chest, making sure the sleeves covered up the hideous scars that littered his skin. Today, everyone had arranged to meet at Ryou's house. Luckily, his father still wasn't back. And Ryou couldn't help but feel some deep sort of dread that swelled in his chest like a great balloon so much that Ryou thought his heart would explode. But, no time to think about that now.
"Going somewhere?" Bakura purred into Ryou's head. The voice made a chill roll down his spine.
"N-no, Bakura, not anywhere special, anyway..." Ryou was a terrible liar.
Bakura smirked at his Hikari's cowardice, "Not that it matters to me, anyway." He lounged against the invisible wall of his soul room.
Ryou swallowed, mumbled an 'Arigatou', bowed respectfully to the invisible Yami for allowing him to leave without trouble and headed out the door.
Little did he know. Little did anyone know. That their lives were about to change. One of them would die for the sake of the others.
Disclaimer: See my other fanfiction's disclaimers, then you'll understand.
A/N: I was inspired by a reviewer's pen name, tamashiipurizuma, for the title and to write this. I dunno. R&R!!
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
prism (n): an optical device having a triangular shape and made of glass or quartz; used to deviate a beam or invert an image.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The music box was open. The small, high-pitched music that emitted from it was slow and sweet. And he stooped over it, watching the small, metal sticks that were arranged in something that looked like a matchbox being plucked by the bumps on the turning cylander that resembled a thread spool. The music box, in shape, was a piano, fit with all fifty-two keys. Both black and white. The small stands were golden and the rest of it was clear glass, or, at least, he thought it was glass.
His soft, crystalline tears would fall silently as he whispered her name. As he lamented over his lost sister, "Amane." For the music box had once been hers. And her dreams and hopes still lived inside of him. And haunted him. Everytime he went to bed at night and dreamed, he would either see the malicious face of Bakura or see the soft figure of the sister he never knew. When he was having a particularily cruel dream, he would see both. His malevolent Yami would draw his knife slowly across Ryou's skin. And it wouldn't burn or hurt. And then, he would see his sister, reaching out to him, begging him to join her in the afterlife. Bakura's taunting purrs still echoed in Ryou's ears, "Yes, join your sister... in hell!" And then he would laugh and strike Ryou down with a bloody blow.
Thus was the fate of Ryou Bakura: To be taunted forevermore by his Yami and haunted by his long dead sister. And, only on quiet, dreamless nights, was Ryou ever truly content. His broken body laid out on his bed, tired from the day at school or the beating from his drunken father, depending whether it was past happy hour and what day of the week it was.
He greeted the morning with nothing more of a moan of pain or a groan, dreading that final math assignment or that it was Saturday, which meant his father would be out past midnight and awaken Ryou with his drunken ramblings when he got back home. Sunday was the day he got a rest from it all. If Ryou was lucky, his father would have a dreadful hangover and would be in bed the whole day, leaving him able to romp around with the usual gang, many of whom, had their own problems.
Jonouchi Katsuya was a perverted, ex-gang member. His father, like Ryou's, was an alchoholic. His sister, Shizuka, however, was very much alive. Narrowly escaped being blind for the rest of her life, but alive. Jonouchi's mother and father had seperated at an early age in Jonouchi's life. He's not sure what age. But, he guesses around five or six. And his family doesn't care about him, with the exception of Shizuka, who adores her brother and idolizes him. Jonouchi has honey-colored hair and soft, chocolate brown eyes that sparkle with humor. Shizuka's hair is cinnamon red and her eyes are a bright, lively green. You almost saw no resemblence between the two at all, except for their personalities were very much alike. They both loved life.
Yuugi Mouto was the short kid. A regular bully magnent, which, of course, was one of his main flaws. One couldn't even call it a flaw. It wasn't his fault he was so short. And his hair was a mere blur of red, yellow, and black; his eyes were round and purple. He could have very well been the pure essence of innocence. His mother was still around, though his father traveled often, and was hardly ever home. Therefore, he lived with his grandfather, Solomon Mouto. The old man was wise and fun-loving; and just about as short as Yuugi. He always wore a orange bandanna around his greying hair. And his eyes were purple, just the same, though they lacked the round, innocent-ness that filled Yuugi's. They were sterner, and looked as if he'd seen many things he wished he hadn't.
Anzu Mizaki was the brown-haired, brown-eyed optimistic one. Well, more optomistic than Yuugi, anyway. If that was even mentally possible. One of her highest values was friendship and not to be pushed around. She had even given Jonouchi his fair share of slappings whenever he even tried to flip her skirt up at school. All in all, she was the gentle-hearted tomboy of the group. She never really talked about her parents much, as if they were some deep, dark secret that no one was entitled to know but her.
Then, there was Seto Kaiba. The arrogant CEO of the world wide Kaiba Corp sometimes tagged along. Ryou thought that it was just to make Jonouchi's life miserable. Other times, he thought the corporate executive was just lonely. Hey, he was a teenager, too, and had a craving for a social life. He had short, brown hair and icy blue eyes that sparkled with the love for his little brother, Mokuba. Who was only about thirteen with raven black hair and the same blue eyes his big brother, niisama, had.
With another groan, Ryou slipped out of bed. It was Sunday, the best day of the week for him, other than the fact that school would start up again tomorrow and there was a history test he would be up all night studying for. He slipped jeans over his boxers and a shirt over his chest, making sure the sleeves covered up the hideous scars that littered his skin. Today, everyone had arranged to meet at Ryou's house. Luckily, his father still wasn't back. And Ryou couldn't help but feel some deep sort of dread that swelled in his chest like a great balloon so much that Ryou thought his heart would explode. But, no time to think about that now.
"Going somewhere?" Bakura purred into Ryou's head. The voice made a chill roll down his spine.
"N-no, Bakura, not anywhere special, anyway..." Ryou was a terrible liar.
Bakura smirked at his Hikari's cowardice, "Not that it matters to me, anyway." He lounged against the invisible wall of his soul room.
Ryou swallowed, mumbled an 'Arigatou', bowed respectfully to the invisible Yami for allowing him to leave without trouble and headed out the door.
Little did he know. Little did anyone know. That their lives were about to change. One of them would die for the sake of the others.