1Cleaning The Battle Wounds

Angry as ever, Bakura found that on his way out, after grabbing his things while muttering angry curses on the manager and all of his family and friends, it was completely necessary to show a telephone pole who was 'boss.' He punched the pole and was rewarded with a nasty gash when one of his knuckles was cut by an old staple. He looked at the cut and instead of thinking about whether or not that was a particularly bright thing to do, or whether he might have tetanus now, he just popped his knuckle into his mouth and sucked on the wound.

'One more fucking job down the drain! This is bullshit!' He thought and raised his other fist to continue giving that pole the beating of its life, but just as he was about to connect, two hands wrapped around his upper arm struggled to hold it.

"Bakura!" a sweet voice filled his angry consciousness. "Bakura, please don't!"

He turned and saw Jasmine holding onto his arm for dear life, afraid if she let go he would smash his fist into the pole and hurt himself.

"Look I know what they did to you was wrong and I should have stopped them, I'm sorry. Just please don't hurt yourself, you're already hurt enough. Look I'll buy you a cup of coffee and we can clean you up ok?" she was desperate, and feeling very guilty.

Bakura thought about shaking her loose and just hitting the damn pole but something in the way that she was looking at him made him stop. "You really going to buy that coffee?" he took his fist out of his mouth and gave a crooked smile.

Jasmine sighed relieved. "Yeah. C'mon."

They walked down the street and found a really nice café that Bakura, oddly, felt he knew for some reason. But he was sure he didn't know it since he usually avoided places like it. Upon walking in, the smell of coffee and pastries hit them but then a few heads turned. Being dirty and bleeding all over the place kind of made Bakura feel self conscious but he got over that fast when his anger started back up. "Ignore them, let's just get a table." Jasmine smiled at the man next to her as if to tell those watching them that this was someone she cared for and she didn't care what anyone thought!

Struck dumb, this being a very unnatural thing for Bakura, he simply nodded.

They found a nice table in the corner by the other front exit and sat down. It was a table that put them right by the large storefront windows, giving Bakura the ability to scowl at everyone out side. He hated them, them just being everyone. He hate that they had a happy job, and nice home, the two things he didn't have. They didn't have to slave away at crappy jobs just to get by. They were happy and he wasn't, and he hated them for it.

Jasmine sat across from him, silent, letting him think because she always believed that people needed to think things through after they have a huge fight. She happened to look down as she went to grab another packet of sugar and saw that Bakura's knuckle had started to bleed more. "Oh my gosh!" she grabbed his hand and started dabbing the wound with a napkin. "We have to get you checked out!"

Bakura winced and looked at Jasmine and then at his hand, "Oh that's nothing." He winced again which took away some of his credibility.

"It's not just this! You're a mess. We better take you to a doctor."

A feeling came in and touched Bakura slightly, like the edge of the tide on a beach. He wrapped his other hand around her hands and held them and smiled. "You know you're the sweetest, I'll be fine, really."

There was the sound of a tray and glasses falling to the ground in the background but Bakura didn't turn. Jasmine wanted to stay like that but she pulled her eyes away and blushed. "Oh, uh well I worry, that's all."

"I know but the fact that you actually worry about ME is what's so amazing."

"You're not so bad, I mean it's not hard to worry about you- not to say that there is anything that's wrong with you!" Jasmine pulled her hands from Bakura's. "How about you come to my place and I'll patch you up, seeing as how this is my fault."

"Oh no, it's ok, I'll be fine!" Bakura smiled but then Jasmine touched his nose to make a point and he winced, his eyes watered in pain. "Maybe a Tylenol wouldn't hurt too much."

Jasmine smiled and grabbed their cups, "Fine, then it's settled!"

Out into the late afternoon they went, the sun was getting ready to set and so there was a pleasant pinkish orange tone to everything. Jasmine lived a block away from the café, in a beautiful apartment. She told Bakura that she had a first aid kit and knew a bit about patching people up after fights with Puppy. Bakura laughed at the joke and followed her.

"Well make yourself at home, I have to find the kit, I'll be right back!" Jasmine left Bakura in the kitchen.

Curious he started to look around, when he looked at the top of the refrigerator he was shocked. "WOW!"

"What?"

"I would have never pegged you as a drinker!" Bakura marveled at the amount of liquor she had.

"If you want you can have some of it." Jasmine walked back into the kitchen. Bakura smiled, a wide smile. "I'll get you a glass, just go sit in living room. Oh wait if you drink you can't have the Tylenol."

Bakura shrugged, "I'll take the alcohol." he smiled as he walked into the living room.

Jasmine came in a few seconds later with a small amount of Jack Daniel's in a glass and the bottle, in case he wanted a refill. She handed him the glass and then started to open the kit, but when she turned around with the gauze she saw that he had already finished the first serving and was liberally serving himself. Her jaw fell.

"Ok, I guess you're taking a cab home then." Jasmine shook her head.

There was a pause that extended for a few minutes as Jasmine picked all the things she would need out of the kit. Bakura's eyes started to get a far off look and he didn't seem as sharp as he was before.

"Nope." Bakura just ignored the glass and started drinking from the bottle.

"'Nope'?" Jasmine asked as she picked up some Neosporin and rolled up the sleeve on Bakura's arm, the one that wasn't holding the Jack, Jasmine had the feeling she'd be prying the bottle out of his hand before long.

"I'm not taking a cab home."

"Well you're not driving and I'd hate for something to happen while you're taking the bus home."

"No, that's not it," there was a pause. "I don't have a home to go to." Bakura took a swig from the bottle. He swallowed and turned his head to look away from her, "You're lucky."

Jasmine didn't believe what she was hearing. "I think you've had enough." but as she moved to take the bottle she saw the look on Bakura's face. The look was so pained that she just froze, utter anguish had washed over his face. But as something very small glinted on his face she realized something even more disconcerting.

He was crying.

"I wish I had my home still, you know what its like to have a place to call home, where things are yours and everything's the way that YOU like it. I miss that, I hate being pushed around and ordered and- I hate my life." Bakura started towards the window and opened it. Jasmine jumped up thinking he was going to try to throw himself out of it.

"Bakura, this isn't- !"

"You have a lovely view." Everyone knows that the particular poison that Bakura had decided to ingest is particularly strong and the amount that he had already consumed was somewhere near lethal. That said, by this point Bakura was very intoxicated and quickly becoming more and more plastered. "Such a beautiful sunset." More tears rolled down his cheeks. "My home had a window that had a view like this."

Jasmine gently tried to pull Bakura off of the windowsill which he had decided to sit on. "Well wouldn't you rather look at it from a chair while I patch you up?" she spoke as gently as possible. "I'll have you all set to go home in- ."

Bakura just shook his head. "I have no place to go to." he turned to look at her. "I was kicked out of my home…and you know your eyes reflect the sunset in the most beautiful way." He touched her cheek and gave her a drunken smile, but one of those smiles that sometimes can be confused as genuine. Jasmine was about to blush and just coax him off of the windowsill but suddenly his lips were on hers.

Now any sensible woman would have pulled her face away and politely explained to him that she had to help him. They would pry the alcohol out of his hand and make him sit down and make sure he was taken care of before she sent him to his proper home. The thing is that sometimes in life we decide that being that proper person, that sensible person, isn't right. Well more like you just don't count that person's vote.

Bakura's other hand, somehow unknown to mankind, put down the bottle without spilling it. Then that arm wrapped around Jasmine's waist. All that filled his mind was just how soft her lips were and how he wanted to take her into himself. He loved the way she felt pressed up against him, the way she tasted and mostly the way her shy hands moved on him.

So as the sun fell, closing the curtain on another day, there was a new beginning of something unknown that rose to reality as the moon took its relative's place.

Next Time: The Game is Called Telephone

As the message goes around and people get worked up the truth stays hidden.

It's been a billion years since I have updated which is because of many many reasons, including the sad passing of my first laptop Chii, the lack of internet and then there was the switching over to the new internet. When my laptop died there were no files backed up so everything I had written was taken with it. I have a new laptop now, I'm still looking for a name for it but I have it, -squee-! So I've been trying to rewrite the chapters that were supposed to be put up so with any luck I'll be caught up and then some. I hope you like the new stuff. )

I'm not sure if having the story I used to have here would have this story banned, if you know anything please share, because I remember reading that the format I used for the story thing was banned.