Author's Note: (Please read endnotes for important info.) Original version of this fic has been uploaded to my LiveJournal for all to poke fun at. At this moment, I'm not sure if I'll put in shounen ai/yaoi or not… Still debating on it… Probably will.
By Pain I Live
Chapter One
Once Upon a Time…
All was right in this world as far as he could see. Not a single thing was out of place. Everything was perfect. Yes, a perfect world full of perfect people… A perfection not for him. This was a world where happy endings were possible, a world where fairytales exist. A world not for him. Here everyone had a place to call their own and had at least one other just for them. Oh, how he had once wished to belong to such a world, to have someone for him, but alas: There was no true place of sanctuary when one had a relentless demon wherever one went. It was always there and it would forever be, and… there was a person not for him. No, not for him.
He had a world of his own and his own fairytale to boot – a perfect fairytale for his world. There were no happy endings, for his world held little joy.
'Pay attention, Yadonushi!'Ryou jerked back and looked up from his musing to find his friends all staring at him.
"Ah," he said sheepishly, "sorry. I must have wandered off there. Did you say something?"
Yugi eyed the mild-tempered albino suspiciously. The English boy had always been somewhat absentminded, but it seemed to have gotten worse these past few weeks – not that he could blame him with a psychotic spirit sharing his body and whatnot. It just seemed as if something was really off.
Shaking off the uneasy feeling, Yugi replied with a smile, "We were wondering if you'd like to come over today. Jiichan just got a shipment of new games."
Ryou let his eyes rove over his friends who looked back eagerly. Oh, how he wished he could go off with them and experience the mundane things all teenagers consumed their time with; but he couldn't. Not when the Touzoku Ou had little patience to deal with his enthusiasm. The fact that he would no doubt try to best Yami no Yugi again would only mean an unsightly ending for whatever the scenario becomes didn't help much either. He let a wistful twist touch his lips.
"I'd better not. I haven't started on my project yet. Perhaps some other day."
"All right then. We'll see you on Monday."
Waving goodbye, Ryou released the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding with a sigh. He'd best be going home; after all, it isn't exactly wise to drag on till sunset when you had to go through the shadier areas of town. The neighbourhood he lived in wasn't so bad… He's been through worse. Ryou just wished that it hadn't turned out like this. If only he didn't have that streak of awful luck trailing behind him constantly. Too bad that unlucky streak carried on to his family…
The albino strolled down the streets casually, hands automatically unbuttoning his uniform in a familiar manner. Crisp spring breezes tousled his hair and fluttered his clothes under which the Sennen Ring was hidden. Turning down into an alley, the boy picked up his pace. Swift, silent footfalls against uneven pavement. Another sharp turn taking him deeper into the maze. He paused.
'Left, Yadonushi.'
He took a right, and right into his stalker did he go. Ryou frowned and stared down the man as his fingers inched along the back of his waistband. 'Koe, will you help?'
"Well, well, well. What have we here? Fresh meat?" Crack went the knuckles.
'Don't call me that, you pathetic weakling. I refuse to be referred to as someone's petty hallucination. Tch! Move aside, Yadonushi, if you're not going to do anything.'
Ryou was thrown back into background as Bakura forced his way out. A feral grin painted over delicate lips, and a calloused hand withdrew a dagger with a wicked blade from its sheath. Their minds intermingled; Ryou felt what Bakura felt, experiencing every movement the other made. It was a strange sensation – one that he seemed to be experiencing often as of late.
"Better to be fresh and supple than old and tasteless," the spirit replied with vehemence. He ached for the nectar of sweet blood… And lunged, swiping at the man's chest.
So began the old dance of animalistic men. Attacking and dodging, punching and kicking. The man threw a right hook, Bakura ducked and jabbed the old steel blade into the man's gut. Crimson waters spilt from the wound as the dagger was yanked out. Clutching his stomach, the man grunted in pain. Bakura looked down with disdain.
Tilting the man's chin up with the blade, the Thief spirit sneered, "Pathetic mortal, crying over a little pain."
With a quick flick of the wrist, the windpipe was slashed open. Gurgles escaped the man's lips, blood dribbled down from the corners.
'I'll deal with you later, Yadonushi.' And the body was returned to its rightful owner.
Ryou shook and shuddered as the adrenaline pulsed still in his veins, coming down from his – their – ecstasy. He cleaned the dagger off with the dying man's shirt and tucked it back into the scabbard with practised ease. Every time the two minds intermingled, Ryou learnt to move as his shadow did and vice versa. He learnt how to kill, to defend, to steal: all this he could not hope for more, though he'd still regret and feel remorse. But he couldn't help it. He needed this.
Without further ado, Ryou made his way back to his apartment. Digging through his pockets, he produced a set of keys and unlocked the doors. He tossed his uniform to one side to wash later, and changed into something more comfortable.
"Yadonushi," Bakura said, materialising beside his reincarnation as the boy soaked the navy blue clothing into the sink.
Ryou didn't answer.
"Yadonushi!"
He paused. "Yes… Bakura?"
"I told you to turn left," the spirit glowered. "Why didn't you listen? Why do you insist on doing things your way?"
"Does it matter though?" Ryou replied, his voice still as calm as ever.
"Yadonushi."
Scrub, scrub. Sounds of running water ever-present, rinsing out the soap. The boy behind the sink carried on placidly as though nothing was wrong in the world. Just him and the white noise.
The calm quiet continued even as he replied softly, "You enjoyed it though—"
Bam! Ryou winced as sharp corner tiles dug into his back. Silence; a running tap; water droplets dripping from the tips of his fingers.
"That's not the point!" Bakura snarled, gripping his hikari's wrists tighter. "You blatantly ignored me once again. Do you like it, Yadonushi? Do you like seeing how far you can go, how far you can push me?" He backhanded Ryou to the ground and straddled him, pulling his hikari up by the shirt. "You never learn, do you? Maybe if when you finally get hurt—" the angry spirit punched the face of the boy under him "—you'd learn to behave." Bakura slid a hand up to the pale, exposed neck. He paused. Without saying anymore, he got up and grabbed a jacket and a set of keys.
Only when the sound of the door locking reached his ears did Ryou dare to move. Gradually his body was overtaken by racks of sobs. He curled up onto his side and gasped out his tears, his system only just catching up to the event that had just come to pass. Gingerly, he cupped the stinging cheek.
The running faucet was forgotten.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A small bell tinkled as the door opened and closed. It was still early, and most of the customers were still packing up at work. A couple characters sat in their half-lit corners of the rundown-looking establishment, nursing their precious drinks. One lonely bartender stood, taking out a clean glass.
"The usual?" he asked the man that had just walked in.
"Of course," the snow haired man replied.
"So what brings the great Touzoku Ou to my humble abode this early in the evening?"
The King of Thieves settled down on one of the stools and picked up the glass placed in front of him. "Oh, nothing much. Just thought I'd get in a couple drinks before hitting a few spots."
"I pity those poor fools," the bartender laughed, filling the Thief another shot.
The King of Thieves merely downed the drink with a careless shrug. "From fools come the profits of society." He lifted his glass in toast. "May we profit well."
"Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in," came a suave, feminine voice. (At this, Bakura muttered something along the lines of "Look what the cat coughed up.") A scantily dressed woman threw an arm around the corporeal spirit's shoulders. "Crème firewater, Mac," she addressed the bartender before turning back to the infamous thief. "Your Majesty, how goes the campaign?"
The Thief snorted a "Jezebel." then turned back to his bittersweet alcohol.
"Oh, I'm hurt!" the woman cried, grabbing her breast as though she'd been shot. "My King denies me. I've nothing! Nothing, I say. Tell me, Your Majesty, will you deny the night as well?"
"I deny the night nothing, but I shall have nothing to do with you. Finish your whiskey, woman, and go find yourself a man. I'd tell you to get a job, but you still have one, amazingly enough, despite all the drinking that you do. I'm speechless, you know. A miracle it is," the Thief retorted whilst laying down several yen.
"Damned King," Jezebel muttered.
"Bless you, too, My Queen." The bell tinkled twice again.
Swiftly Bakura made his way down to the busy streets where the afternoon crowds had yet to thin. Looking around, he marked his targets and quickly made his rounds. He browsed through merchandise at the stalls and windows like everyone else. While he was doing that, the skilled thief slipped by his marks randomly, helping them 'lighten their loads'. A few minutes later (and several wallets heavier), he left before anyone noticed anything amiss. Walking a couple blocks down, Bakura entered a supermarket and went down several isles, picking up an assortment of foods and essentials before waiting in line for the cashier to ring up the total.
Once the items had been paid for, the Thief spirit went back through the maze of alleys once again and entered the shabby apartment that his hikari was forced to move into. As the door closed, Ryou looked up from his homework and watched as his yami set down the grocery bags on the counter in the cramped kitchenette.
"Yadonushi," acknowledged Bakura, taking out a bag of cat food and pouring the contents into a tin dish.
A snow-white cat jumped from Ryou's lap and dashed to the small meal, meowing its thanks. It was a stray that the boy had picked up a little over a month prior to his relocation. When Bakura first saw Ryou clutching the bundle of white in his arms, he immediately snatched it up by the scruff of its neck, startling the benevolent teen. With his big, chocolate brown doe eyes, Ryou had nervously looked on, waiting for the dreaded verdict. The Thief just stared at it for a while and said, "Bakhu," before dropping it back into the boy's arms. It took a few moments for Ryou to puzzle out what had transpired. Apparently Bakura had named to poor thing after a mythical Egyptian mountain, but Ryou mistakenly assumed he meant "Baku", his Egyptian being a bit rusty. Hence the cat was called Bakhu (or Baku, depending on who you ask).
Stroking the soft furs, Bakura got up and returned to placing the non-perishable in a cupboard. He then took out a small jar and walked up to his hikari. Grabbing Ryou's chin, he tilted his face and examined the bruise forming on the milky white cheek. He unscrewed the lid off the jar and gently applied the ointment onto the damaged skin.
"Thank you," Ryou said in a barely audible whisper.
Bakura didn't say anything in return. He placed the jar with where the first aid supplies were kept and returned to his soul room.
"I should start on dinner, shouldn't I, Baku?" Ryou mused to his cat who simply meowed and returned to its food.
AN: This story is on hiatus as I'm currently working on a different fic. Also revising my songfics since we can't even put lyrics in our stories anymore, plus I can't even stand my own writing. Amazing what a couple years can do for you.
See my bio for links to review responses, preferences on reviews, regards to flames, etc. The original version of this fic is also posted within the link given. Feel free to flame it. I would XD