Hey there! This is your author, and I want you to know that this story is really proof of my feelings right now. To putit mildly, my life is in the process of turning upside-down and I DO NOT like it. Nope, no tone little bit. Anyway, this will be continued, and I hope you enjoy it. CAIO!
"WHY? WHY DIDN'T YOU TAKE ME AS WELL?" A mother pulled her two children away from the prone form lying crumpled next to a grave. The children peered over or around their mother's arms to gaze a moment longer at the speaker.
"Mommy? Why is that boy there?" the little girl asked. Her brother nodded.
"I don't know honey. Come on, let's go." She shooed the kids off down the path toward the exit of the cemetery. The boy remained where he was, body shaking with sobs. After securing her young ones in her car, the curious mother went back to the boy. She stepped off the path and gingerly picked her way around muddy patches of ground to the grave and person in question.
"DAMN YOU FOR ETERNITY MIRA! WHY DID YOU SPARE ME? WHY?" the boy screamed again. The woman jumped, unsure if the boy was safe. The way he cried, however, dissolved what doubts she had. He didn't seem much older then her oldest, and to see him like this would have broken her heart.
"Excuse me. Are you alright?" she asked, touching his shoulder. He flinched away from her touch and raised his face to meet eyes with her. Seeing that she meant no harm, he allowed her to pull him to his feet. The position he'd been in on the ground disguised both his height and his build. He was about 5' 10" in height, with a slim but muscular frame. Any high school track coach would have killed for a player with a build like that. He had stark white hair that hung almost halfway down his back, and reddish-brown eyes, red-rimmed from crying. His jaw indicated stubbornness, and his high cheekbones, coupled with the way he carried himself, indicated pride. His skin was pale, and glittered with tears.
"No m'am, I'm not alright." His voice was soft, husky, and held a hint of a British accent; altogether quite pleasing to the ear.
"Why not dear?" she questioned. Two fresh tears traced slivery tracks down to his throat before he answered.
"There are six fresh graves here. The one here belongs to my little brother Ryou. He was murdered before me, and I could do nothing. I also watched his friends die. Yugi, his first and best friend, then Marik and Malik, identical twins who played with them. Then I watched Ishizu and Odion, the elder brother and sister of the twins get slaughtered. Ryou died in my arms. The only thing I did about it was to strangle Mira with the self-same chains that she bound me with. The witch left me alone. And so should you." As he spoke, thunder rumbled in the distance, and a light rain began to fall, the raindrops mixing with the tears that now fell freely. The woman turned and left quickly, running with her hands over her head to guard against the rain. The teenager turned back to the grave and threw his head back with a wild ethereal howl. It was the sound of someone whose heart is broken, and who has nothing left. Those who heard these cries that evening would never forget them. "WHY AM I STILL HERE! DO YOU HAVE SOME PLAN FOR ME, THAT YOU WOULDN'T LET ME GO WITH THEM? ANSWER ME! SEND ME A SIGN! ANYTHING! ANYTHING!" Lightning flashed again, much closer this time, and thunder crashed. After the rolling boom had faded, Bakura saw what seemed to be a 'rip' in the sky, and a figure sailed out of it. It hit the duck pond over the edge of the hill with a resounding splash. Curious, the boy jogged over to see what had happened. A soggy being, strangely misshapen, hauled itself out of the water and shook itself off.
"Yowch. Note to self: Practice landings. At least I didn't hit the ground." The boy moved a bit closer, and the person looked up and smiled. "Hi there! You must be Bakura."
"Wh-wh-who are you? How do you know my name? Where did you come from?" Bakura asked, frightened.
"Yami Mouto, at your service. As to how I know your name, I'm your Guardian Angel, and I came directly from the big guy upstairs." As he spoke, Bakura realized what made Yami's back so misshapen. WINGS! Not to mention a heavy cloak, in a shade of deep purple, that hid his features from view. Yami shook himself off again and spread those wings. They were huge, feathery black wings that arced up over Yami's shoulders, and then swept down to just above his ankles. The boy then executed a sort of head-to-toe shiver that fluffed his feathers. There was really no point in doing so; the rain plastered them right back down.
"Guardian Angel?" Bakura asked, confused.
"Yup. You called, and I've been assigned to you. Please don't call me an angel. I'm not really one to begin with."
"Then what are you?"
"I'm what you get when a demon falls in love and mates with an angel. I believe the term is 'Degamolen', but I'm not overly fond of the title. I prefer to be called Yami."
"Doesn't that mean Darkness or something like that?" Bakura asked.
"Yeah, and it's rather fitting."
"Are you supposed to stay with me?" Bakura questioned. The thought of having such an interesting persona as his houseguest was sufficient to cheer him up somewhat.
"You got it. I'm a solid being until further notice."
"But- your wings?" Bakura said. Yami shook his head.
"That's not a problem." Just as he'd said, the wings disappeared, and Yami laughed at Bakura's expression.
"How'd you- where'd they- ACHOO!" Yami chuckled. Bakura found comfort in that voice. It was deep and had a slight rumble to it, putting him in mind of a grizzly bear. He wondered what Yami looked like. He sneezed another three times in succession and stumbled, rubbing his eyes and cursing like a sailor in several languages.
"Such language! We should get home; you don't want to get sicker than you already are."
"But I'm not sick. Just-ACHOO!"
"Yeah, sure. You aren't sick and I'm human. Come on, let's get you home." Bakura sneezed again. He was starting to shiver. Yami noticed this, and pulled his cloak off. What this act revealed made Bakura freeze in place. Yami had glittering red eyes, colored like rubies, or freshly spilt blood. His hair was a wildly spiked mass around his head, sort of like a star, but not really. Mostly, it was black, but the spikes were edged with red, and his bangs, which framed his face in a slightly lopsided way, were a brilliant blonde.
"Y-Y-Yugi?" he whispered. Yami shook his head.
"No Bakura, I'm not Yugi."
"But…you look so much like him!"
"I know that. We share blood, technically, but that bond has been stretched over more than 5,000 years. The hair is the only remaining proof of that particular bonding."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. But I'll tell you this: Yugi, and his friends, want you to know that they love you. And Ryou said that he won't forget about you, but if you've forgotten about him when the time comes that he'll kill you a second time. He also said that he's watching over you from up there."
"They really…really said that? You spoke with them? They went to…to paradise?" Bakura started to cry again.
"Yes, they said that, and yes, they went straight to heaven." Yami smiled gently. It was then that Bakura realized that Yami actually had to look up to look him in the face. In truth, the male was almost four inches shorter than Bakura was. He started laughing. "What's so funny?" Yami asked.
"You're kinda short. I thought-ACHOO!" It was Yami's turn to laugh.
"Come on. Put this on, and let's go home." Yami draped the cloak neatly over Bakura's head and back. Due to the fact that it had somewhat covered his wings, the cloak went almost to Bakura's ankles. "Lead on."
"You don't know where I live?" Bakura asked, heading toward the gates. Yami shook his head.
"I was told to get a move on, and didn't get much info on you, except about why you needed a Guardian, and what you looked like, and what your name is. That's all I was told." Bakura smiled and pulled the cloak closer around himself.
"I hope you don't mind walking. I didn't feel like driving today."
"No problem. I'll have to get used to walking sooner or later. If both of us get through this alive, I may be eligible for an actual, permanent body." Yami said, looking hopeful.
"What do you mean by 'get through this alive'?" Bakura asked, turning to look Yami in the face. As a result, he tripped on the curb, and Yami had to catch him.
"One of the reasons I'm here is to make sure that you don't do anything stupid, like killing yourself, or something like that."
"Great. Race you to the end of the block!" Bakura took off in the direction of the crosswalk that marked the end of the block.
"Hey! That's not fair! You had a head start, and my legs are shorter than yours!" Yami yelled, chasing after his charge. To the casual onlooker, they just looked like a couple of teenagers goofing off in the rain. Which is essentially what they are right now.