Disclaimer: Um... No, I don't think so. ^^ No own.
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Part 1: Separation
Chapter 5: Yami no Yugi: Oblivion
I'd been in Luxor nearly two weeks, searching it from top to bottom, before I finally found him. Gypsy and Ebon had declined helping me search, retreating to their homes in Cairo, but offering help if I needed it. I didn't. I was sure I could find Bakura, wherever he was, on my own.
And I did, eventually.
In fact, I almost tripped over him.
My search, as I mentioned, had been going on for weeks, and I was starting to get desperate. The only place I really hadn't looked at too closely had been the red light district. I figured that was the last place Bakura would be, because he'd cast so much scorn on the types of people that populated that sector for as long as I knew him.
And yet, he wasn't anywhere else to be found, so the past few days I'd begun venturing into the red light district, usually only very soon after dark. The night I found him I was out a little later than usual, having followed a lead earlier in the evening that led me no where. I'd caught another little whiff of rumor, about an albino being the showpiece of a certain brothel that dealt in males. I really wasn't expecting too much. Bakura would have to be absolutely insane to let himself work for a brothel. That was probably the one station in life he admitted was beneath even himself. So, understandably, when I stepped into the brothel's common room my heart nearly stopped.
It was Bakura.
In one corner of the common room, near the stairs leading upward toward the "business" places, a wrought iron cage was hanging from the ceiling. It was like those things you see in night clubs, that people will dance in, you know? Except this one was shorter and wider, made for holding, not dancing. My breath caught in my throat as I saw him.
He was slumped against the bars of the cage, skinny as a rail and pale as milk. His hair was tangled and matted around his shoulders, and looked like it hadn't been properly washed or brushed since I'd left him eighteen years ago. He was bare chested and barefoot, his only clothing a tattered pair of linen pants that had seen better days. A pendant of some kind hung around his neck, and every now and then he'd bring up a hand to brush it, the only movement he made. The Ring was nowhere about him, and as I looked around I saw it nailed high up on the wall behind the bar, like some kind of sick trophy. Bakura's head was bowed, his shoulders slumped under the weight of a heavy iron collar that was around his neck. A chain connected the collar to the cage. Numerous scars crossed his chest and arms, ones much more fresh than the ones he wore from his past life.
I felt rage boil up inside of me. How dare they! How dare they cage him like some kind of animal! I was just ready to call up the Puzzle's power and banish everyone in this filthy hole to the Shadow Realm, but then Bakura moved.
For a moment I thought he was reacting to my presence, but a moment later that suspicion was way-laid as Bakura's thin hands wrapped around the bars to the cage and he hauled himself to his knees, looking toward the bartender and letting out a wordless, whining, almost child-like cry. I took a step back into the shadows as I gazed, horrified, at his eyes. It was like he really had been reduced to a beast. Those eyes held no semblance of the man I'd once known, although this was undoubtedly him.
"Oh Bakura..." I whispered, a wave of pity washing through me. "What did this to you...?" I had no doubts that it was a what, and not a who. No one, including me, could make Bakura do something he didn't want to do and expect to live.
Still crying piteously, Bakura reached a hand through the bars, whining and straining toward the bartender, who just laughed at him. The serving boys snickered, and several men who seemed to be regulars started laughing at him too. One of them sauntered up to the cage and smacked Bakura's hand, causing him to recoil and whimper, cringing away from the man. Leering in a way that made my blood boil, the man snapped his fingers, and the bartender tossed him a ring of keys. Still smirking at Bakura, the man unlocked the cage and swung the door open, grabbing Bakura roughly by the upper arm as he used another key to unlock the collar. Bakura had gone stiff and fallen silent, and when the man yanked on his arm he slowly uncoiled himself and slid out of the cage, groaning slightly as cramped joints were forced to move. Snickering, the man tossed the keys back to the bartender, and led Bakura toward the stairs.
It was all I could do not to charge after them as they disappeared from sight. As it was, I had to bite my lip hard to keep from summoning something to wipe all these villains out. How could they do that to Bakura?
But another question, a more disturbing one, was weighing more heavily on my conscious. Why the hells had Bakura let himself be reduced to this?
After several long minutes of taking deep breaths and calming my anger, I stepped out of the shadows and headed for the bar. Dressed as I was in leather and silver, I looked just like the kind of man who might frequent these sorts of establishments (although I honestly did not, I found them disgusting, and this one was no exception). I took a seat on one of the stools, and the bartender perked up at the prospect of new blood. "Evening, effendi. What may I get you?"
I frowned a little, pursing my lips. "Date wine," I ordered absently, my eyes straying toward the now empty cage. He nodded, and a moment later the desired drink was placed in front of me. I took a sip, not really tasting it. "I'm from out of town," I said, choosing my words carefully. "I was told that this place has a very... interesting story, and I see that it does."
The bartender snickered. "Ahh, you mean Horus?" He jerked his thumb toward the cage, and I nodded, my jaw tight. "Yeah, he draws quite a crowd. Good for business, he is."
"What's his history?" I asked.
The bartender eyed me, obviously suspicious. "Why do you want to know?"
"Uhh..." I blinked, searching for an answer. "My, uh, sister gave birth to a white-haired child recently, and wishes to find the father."
The bartender relaxed and snickered again. "You won't find him here. Horus is strictly a sub, and besides, this is a males-only establishment."
"Ah." I said shortly, trying to keep my anger in check. It was getting much harder to do so as the seconds ticked by. Every moment I sat down here talking, Bakura and that man were upstairs...
"Horus stumbled in off the streets some seven years ago, wearin' nothin' but the clothes on his back, the pendant that gave him his nickname, and that Ring on the wall behind me," the bartender continued, apparently deciding I could be trusted. My blood froze, just thinking about Bakura being in a place like this for so long. "He's just a no-account drunk. Does whatever the customers want, so long as we keep him supplied with drink. When he first came he hinted there was some tragedy in his past, and alcohol was his escape. None of us pried, and over time it's faded. Haven't heard him speak or nothin' in over five years. He just cries like a damn cat when he figures it's time for another beer."
"Where does he go at night?" I asked. "Does he have any family?"
The bartender looked surprised, and then barked a short laugh. "Him? Family? Hon, if he had any family, they abandoned him a long time ago. He stays here at night. In fact, I can only 'member a couple times he's ever been out of the cage, except to go upstairs," he seemed to look at me with keener eyes, and gave me a knowing smirk. "I'm real sorry, but if you want him, I'll have to ask you to come back tomorrow. Qasim's up there with him now, and usually Horus is done for the night after Qasim's through."
I shivered, bile rising in my throat. This was horrible. Maybe in the beginning Bakura had submitted to this willingly, but surely not anymore. The man I knew would never have stood to be dominated by anyone, especially not another man. Something else had to be going on here...
Without warning, a scream pierced the air, undoubtedly coming from upstairs. I froze, my heart leaping into my throat as the regulars began to stamp and whistle. Another scream followed the first, and the Ring jangled slightly from it's place on the wall. This was all the proof I needed, and an instant later I was sprinting for the stairs, the Puzzle blazing with light. I followed the pain I could sense down the hall to the very last door on the left, which I kicked down easily. I strode through the door growling, the Puzzle shining brightly.
Bakura was on his elbows and knees on the thick Persian carpet, his matted hair falling around his face and muffling his quiet sobs, his tattered pants thrown carelessly off to one side. The man the bartender called Qasim was sitting behind him, clearly startled off his mount by my untimely entrance.
I was across the room in two strides, wrapping both hands around Qasim's neck and slamming him into the wall, my fierce scowl only an inch or two from his suddenly terrified face. "Go to hell," I snarled, the Puzzle already beginning to glow brighter.
To my surprise, Qasim snickered, choking for breath as my hands squeezed his throat. "You think it's so easy to take another's prized possession?"
"You think you have any right to dominate another living being against his will?" I answered levelly, eyes narrow.
His own eyes narrowed in return. "I made sure long ago that if Horus was taken from me, no one else could ever have him."
For an instant I felt chilled all over, but then my red-hot rage reached up and took a hold of me again. "Diiie!" I yelled, invoking the Shadow Realm to devour this pathetic human soul. As his body dissolved under my hands I banished the shadows with a wave of my hand and turned around.
Bakura was right where he'd been before, though he was now laying on his side, as if he'd collapsed. He stared up at me with wide eyes, and for a moment I had the uncomfortable sensation that I was staring at Ryou, and not Bakura. Quickly I moved forward to kneel beside him, and reached out a hand to touch his shoulder. To my horror, he flinched away, and I quickly drew back.
"Y-Yami?" he whispered, his voice broken from disuse. His eyes were still wide and dilated, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. Since the bartender downstairs had hinted that he was perpetually drunk, it made sense that he wasn't sure it was really me beside him.
"Hai," I said softly, wanting to touch him, to comfort him in some way but not knowing whether that would do more harm or good. "Hai, it's me Bakura. We can leave now, and you'll never have to come back here again."
He blinked slowly, and to my surprise he let out a muffled sob. "Gods Yami, I thought maybe you'd never come... That you'd forgotten me, abandoned me... Left me here..."
Unable to resist, I let one of my hands rest lightly on the top of his head, my fingers tangling slightly in the matted hair. He flinched a little, but when I didn't yank on it or gods know what else, he relaxed slightly. "Shh, shh," I soothed. "I would never leave you in a hell hole like this. Ammit's belly is paradise compared to this place. Can you walk, Bakura? We have to get out of here before those downstairs overcome their fear and grow curious."
As an answer Bakura grunted and started to rise, then gasped in pain and collapsed again. I bit my lip, pulling him into my arms and ignoring the fact that he struggled briefly against me. "It's okay..." I murmured into his hair. "It's okay, I'll never let anyone hurt you again."
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o.o That was... really angsty. I'm sorry. It wasn't supposed to turn out so dark. ._. Hopefully it'll lighten up sometime in the near future...