Disclaimer; As mentioned before, I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!
I'm really, really sorry for the long wait, but this just wouldn't cooperate with me! Finally I managed to get this out, and I think it's quite good. Wish it was longer though, but unfortunately it didn't want to get longer… Hope you can forgive the long wait!
To all my reviewers! THANK YOU! I love you all!
I didn't think this would be as popular as it seems to be, and that made me feel even more bad when I couldn't get anything out!
A few notes; Someone mentioned that Ryou says "two of me, instead of one" and thinks he should be saying "three". Maybe so, but Ryou isn't counting himself in with his yamis, since he thinks of himself as the "real" one. Usually there's only one "extra", so that makes it two.
Longer parts in italics and ended with - are dreams.
Second Move: Dreams Aren't All They're Cracked Up to be
Sand blasted cruelly against his face, keeping him from seeing anything as he had to screw his eyes shut tight. The wind whipped all around him, sending the coarse grains skittering against bare arms and inside his clothes, rubbing uncomfortably between skin and cloth.
The sand was all there was, howling, screaming, tearing, jerking, never leaving him alone. He couldn't breathe either, each short gasped mouthful of air filling his mouth with sand, making him spit and hack, and thus swallow even more of the soil.
He was starting to panic, fighting against wind and sand to get out of the vicinity of the storm, anything so he would be able to breathe and see again, and then everything stopped.
The silence was deafening after the muffled roar of sand-filled wind.
Cautiously opening his eyes, Ryou glanced around from under his lashes and bowed head.
Nothing.
A sweeping plain of unbroken, flat desert of black sand. Not even the usual undulation of dunes broke the horizon. No wind either, now that the sandstorm had gone.
The sky was bloody red, the sun bleeding light from an intensely bright eye that seemed to follow his every move. Ryou brought up shaking arms to hug himself, not cold, but goose bumps forming anyway. This place... so desolate. No life, no breath, no movement. Where was he?
Since no answer was forthcoming from his surroundings, Ryou decided he should move, and hopefully something would appear. Not that he had any hopes, but... He was so alone. It was so silent, he could swear he could hear his thoughts rattle around in his head. Neither Kura, nor Ba-khu-ra was here, and now he missed them sorely, even with the "homicidal maniac, beware!" vibe they both sent out.
At least he'd have someone to talk to... and he'd feel safer. They may not be the world's nicest people, but at least now, if not before, they wanted what was best for him. And even if his ideas of what was "best for him" might be different from theirs, it would have been very comforting to have the two of them on either side of him in this desolate place.
The ground under him started to vibrate suddenly, the sand skittering around, but no sound could be heard. Suddenly, there was a drawn-out howl, broken glass on tears and blood, screeching all around him, the scream at once human and so very animalistic.
Then the sun started to cry blood, the first drop landing innocently enough on his cheek, trailing down the pale skin like a macabre tear, and then another and another, and on and on, and at the same time Ryou could hear sobbing, screams of pain and terror, metal-on-metal in his ears, making them bleed too, and everything was bleeding, oh kami-sama, he couldn't see anything for the blood and then he was crying, but his tears mixed with the blood and then he was crying blood too and it was all red, and he couldn't see, couldn't move, couldn't hear, the pain, the fear, the blood the screams all rooting him in place, making him a part of the-
"RYOU! Wake UP!"
With a jerk, Ryou's blue eyes snapped open, a shuddering gasp caught in his throat as he tore himself from whoever was holding him, pressing his back against the headboard of his bed, arms over his head, knees up against his chest, whimpering.
There was a startled stillness for a second or so, then the bed dipped on each side, and he was enveloped in the scent of incense, something metallic his mind right now shied away from, and coconut. How strange that they both smelled the same...
"Ryou? What happened? You were whimpering and crying, we couldn't wake you up at first, and you were cold." Bakura seemed to want to snap at Ryou, but kept his voice low and soothing, as if he was talking to a jittery animal.
"That's funny... I was warm..." Ryou mumbled distractedly, before a loud crack echoed in the room, and wide blue eyes stared at the dark-skinned man to his left, one pale hand pressed against a livid red cheek.
"Wh-what was that for!" Ryou stuttered angrily and Ba-khu-ra shrugged.
"You weren't snapping out of it."
The teen nodded, took a deep, unstable breath and closed his eyes. He wanted to throw himself against one, or both of them, immerse himself in their scent. He wanted a hug. But, knowing his yamis, that wasn't even on the menu.
"I... I'm fine now... It's okay." Opening his eyes, he smiled, slightly wobbly, at the two staring spirits. They didn't believe him, but was thankfully not pressing him. Yet.
One week.
One thrice-cursed whole week of the same dream, with only slight variations. It shook him up every time. Not as bad as the first time, but each dream seemed as fresh as the first one, crystal clear and razor sharp.
Pouring coffee in the mug with shaking fingers, Ryou wondered how much more of this he could take. His yamis had badgered the truth of the dreams out of him after the third one, and had even tried to influence his dreams with Shadow magic, but so far, no cigar.
It seemed his dreams were resisting even their combined efforts, and somehow keeping them out. That was what had clued them in to something not being right, but since they couldn't do anything to help, Ryou had to suffer through these dreams each night, waking up with his sheets tangled around his legs, the comforter kicked down to the foot of the bed, and his skin drenched in cold sweat.
It was better when either one or both of his yamis were in the bed with him.
Leaning back against the counter as he had done that morning over a week ago when he first saw his yami(s) again, Ryou sighed tiredly, rubbing his face with one hand.
"You look like shit." Frankly stated with a sharp edge of a sneer, and under it all, much toned down, concern.
"Thanks 'Kura, really. Your concern overwhelms me." Ryou said dryly, taking a sip from the black coffee that was still almost scalding hot. Oh, well, it would help him wake up at any rate.
Foggy blue eyes narrowed as Bakura stalked up to Ryou, grabbing his chin and ignoring the yelp of protest as he peered at his face. Ba-khu-ra came shuffling into the kitchen, never much of a morning person, and only raised a questioning eyebrow at the spectacle.
"Bags under his eyes." Bakura snorted in disgust, letting go of Ryou's chin as if he was bearing the plague or something, but the white-haired young man knew it was only because Bakura wasn't very good with feelings other than anger and anything related to that.
"And what's this about "'Kura"? The paler of the two spirits muttered, glaring at the tomb robber as he snickered. Ryou smiled angelically and shrugged.
"It's easier, is all. Easier to keep your names apart..." Trailing off, Ryou looked a little uncertainly at Bakura from the corner of one eye. When the pale spirit only snorted and looked away, Ryou knew it was alright. Turning around to refill his mug, he missed Ba-khu-ra's soundless mouthing of "whipped", but heard the thief's resultant growl.
"I hope you two can keep yourselves out of trouble today. I'm going over to meet with Yuugi-tachi. We're going to the beach." He didn't offer to take his two yamis with him, since he did not need that particular problem on the other, and he'd rather keep Yuugi in the dark as long as possible, since he was the one most likely to notice, simply due to that he had worn an Item too.
"Sure, sure. Go play miew-sher. We'll play nice too." Ba-khu-ra grinned and Ryou sighed but couldn't help his smile.
"And why do I highly doubt that?"
Sunlight poured down on all and sundry, tanning or reddening skin and bouncing off water, creating glittering jewels of light and illusion to be caught by eager child-hands.
Ryou smiled, feeling more relaxed then he'd done this whole week as he took a deep breath of air, filling his lungs with salt and that particular smell only large bodies of water have.
"Oi, Ryou! How long will you stand there? Come on!" Jounouchi's shout over the general din of the beach shook the teen out of his reverie and he laughed and jogged down the little hill before the beach that he was standing on.
"I'm coming! I was just enjoying it all!"
Weaving between families on quilts, kissing teenagers and children making sandcastles, Ryou finally came up to the spot that his friends had claimed for their own, Yuugi and Anzu wrestling with a parasol while Honda had planted himself one the quilt he and Jounouchi had spread out.
Having finally gotten the resisting parasol up, Anzu grinned and dragged Yuugi with her down to the shore and with a yell ran out into the water, splashing it everywhere. Ryou smiled and plopped down in the shade provided by the parasol, since even with sun-block he tended to burn easily.
Cold drops of water suddenly sprayed him and Ryou yelped, then blushed in embarrassment and looked up into the amused face of Anzu.
"Come on Ryou, you can't stay under the shade the whole day! What's the reason for going to the beach otherwise?" She said laughingly, poking him in the shin with a cold and sand encrusted foot. Smiling, he shook his head, white strands sliding over pale shoulders.
"Okay. I'll go. So bossy, Anzu!" Marking the page he was on, Ryou laid the book down in his backpack and raced Anzu down to the surf, throwing himself in without hesitation.
Okay, that was a lie.
He mentally hesitated to throw himself headfirst into cold ocean water, but hesitating never made the water warmer, so he always plunged in without stopping. The water splashing up around him and over his stomach made him gasp, and he had to repress the squeal. Because that? Too embarrassing.
They passed a beach-ball between them, trying to keep standing in the waves and not let the ball touch the water, which was near impossible, but fun.
It wasn't until Ryou threw himself to the side to catch the ball teasingly just out of his reach and a wave crashed over him, submerging him suddenly in cool, frothy water as things turned unpleasant.
Cold, clinging, dragging him down, but he couldn't swim to the surface, because then they would find him, and kill him and he had to live, to kill those responsible!
Fighting to reach the opposite shore he remembered the blood spreading over sand, metal glinting in firelight and moonlight, and the screams and tears.
And suddenly the water was blood, dragging him down to join the half-eaten bodies on the bottom who reached out with sticky, slimy hands and fingers to keep him down, to never let him up, and he opened his mouth to scream and the blood filled it, choked the scream and life out of him and he'd die down here-
"RYOU!"
Gentle slaps on his cheeks, jerk, gasp, turn around to cough out the water he'd swallowed, Ryou hiccupped and felt water on his cheeks, but it wasn't from the sea, just his tears.
There had been a glimpse of something different this time… A face half covered by a mask, and a bloody scar on the unmasked side of the face, filling the eye it ran over with blood, white hair dipped in bloody red and whispered words. Words he couldn't remember now.
Who had that been?
What was this?
What was going on?
And he just didn't know. Where was his yamis when he needed them? The tears and shaking just didn't want to stop.
Miew-sher- ancient Egyptian for kitten
How depressing…but it will get better! Later... Heheh. And this took an entirely different turn than I normally had planned for the fic. It was supposed to be light-hearted and domestic at first, and now it's turned out to regular mystery and drama with a large dose of fluff and sweetness in between. Not that there's much of it in this chappie… and when Ryou needed it too. Oh, well. Or something like that. What are the meanings of the dreams? Who is the masked man? What does he want? All will be answered in time!