Make Yourself
Chapter 09: The Final Straw
By: Shounen Squared

I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh, any of its characters, or any of the songs throughout this little FANfic.

"How could you do this to us, Ryou?" demanded Mr. Bakura, as if his son had committed an unspeakable crime.

Ryou sat on the living room sofa, on the cushion farthest away from where his father stood. He crossed his arms and did not dare to look the man in the eye. If he did, he'd be looking out of a black eye. He stiffened his body, but it was still quite visibly clear how much he was trembling. Even in the long silence after Mr. Bakura's angry words, there were not many things that could be heard. It was like a black void, and Ryou was trapped within it.

Ryou bit his bottom lip so hard that it came close to bleeding. He could not help it nor could he deny it; He was scared out of his mind. No, he thought, this can't happen to me again.

"Do what, father?" he whispered. His voice contained no confidence like it had during his protest.

"Don't be stupid! How can I call you my son? Where did you go so wrong?"

"'Wrong'? Fine. I-I'm a failure and a disgrace."

"You're damn right you are! Now give me and your mother an apology!"

His son merely shook his head "no", hanging it with a look of despair and solemnity. "I can't."

"What do you mean, 'you can't'? I am your father! Where did your sense of respect for authority go?"

"I-I didn't do anything wrong, Otou. Th-they took my rights from me. They treated me like a second class citizien. And I'm not the only one." He had to pause for a seconds between each sentence. "Others were being denied the fundamental things that a school is responsible for providing."

"Save it. The principal told me everything, so I don't need you to re-tell everything in a blender of lies. Why can't you just learn to accept things that you know you can never change?"

"But the world would never grow without the people who stepped forward and wanted to make a difference."

"You're so spoiled. Maybe we should cut back on how much food we put on your table every night."

Ryou's patience finally melted away. "Spoiled? How on earth am I spoiled! I can't remember the last time you put food on my table. I've always eaten one meal a day, which was lunch at school! Sometimes my classmates would give me some snacks so I wouldn't wither away from starvation. But that's it. How am I spoiled, father? Am I undeserving of food? What about water? Soon I won't be deserving of shelter, will I? What next?"

"You are spoiled, Ryou! When and where did you ever once get the idea that you can just have any and every little thing you want? This is no different. Maybe someone won't let you hang a bullshit piece of 'art' that shows two fags--"

"Stop it!" Ryou finally turned back around to look at his father. Rage taking control of his muscles, he brought his hands forward and shoved Mr. Bakura farther away from him with all of his strength. He didn't want to have anything to do with this anymore. But as soon as he'd touched his father, he also immediately realized his mistake. Shit. . . He panted, glaring up at the man. He couldn't supress his infuriation any longer.

Mr. Bakura narrowed his eyes. "You little fucking punk. Don't you ever dare lay a hand on me again!" Before Ryou could dodge or even think, the back of a large hand struck him smack dab in the face. And so very hard that it sent Ryou reeling off of the couch and onto the floor. For several moments, Ryou's vision had gone completely blank. All he could see was black and random colors, like after glow from staring at a bright light.

When he was able to open his eyes, he stared tiredly at the beige carpet which had caused friction burn to his left cheek. There they were, tiny blood stains everywhere, all over the once clean carpet. These were not fresh. They were from the last time this messed up memory had occured. Ryou very slowly turned his head toward Mr. Bakura in horror. He had never once stopped shivering and quivering from the fear he was feeling.

"Don't do this to me. Not again."

A fierce kick in the head silenced Ryou.

"You're disgusting."

He writhed and flinched as he received kick after kick. This time it was everywhere. In his stomach, head, face, neck, shoulders, and even a few times in the groin. His muscles throbbed with ache and fatigue, and Ryou tried his best to outlast the pain. If he could keep his mind at ease, the pain would be much weaker.

By about thirty seconds later, Ryou's theory no longer worked. He blacked out once again, this time screaming for help.

He was dumbfounded, absolutely dumbfounded.

How was it possible for a room to be locked from the outside? And what the hell good use could one think of for locking a door from the outside? However it had happened, Mr. Bakura had locked Ryou in his bedroom. Ryou could remember waking up to his father still beating the living hell out of him. When Ryou had told his father that he was awake now, the furious parent had grabbed his son by the shoulders, nearly headlocking him like a straitjacket. Then, with a nimble push, Ryou was literally thrown into his room, and before he could even stand up, the door slammed behind him.

The weathered teen desperately tried to open the door and get out of the house. But when he'd expected the door to flight right open as he pulled, he pulled a muscle in his lower arm. He hissed and gritted his teeth. The doorknob would not budge. It made faint "click" sounds as he attempted to turn the doorknob over and over again. "Damn you!" he screamed, jerking on the knob. But the more he struggled, the more he found himself out of breath. Considering his already terrible physical condition, (thanks to his father) it didn't take him long to wear himself out and collapse to the floor, feeling utterly defeated.

A vibrating noise came from underneath Ryou's matress. Followed by a faint tune that resembled the Sleep song, "The Rude Awakening." What on earth? Ryou cursed under his breath, and he tried his best to ignore the obnoxious, different-key version of "TRA's" catchy chorus. He had a migraine headache. He wasn't in the mood to listen to this. What the hell was that song coming from? He started for his bed, willing to do anything to shut the noise up.

Ryou slid his hand inside and then pulled out a small silver cell phone. A cell phone? Since when did he have a cell phone? Who would have given him one? How would his family have the money to pay for one? And if it wasn't them, then who the hell payed for all of this?

A million questions flooded his mind at once, but he put them in the back of his mind. Opening the cell phone he mumbled an impatient, "Hello?"

"Yo, Ryou! What's going on?" It was Seto. Why of all people did he have to call right now? Ryou didn't feel like talking to anybody right now. He said this to Seto. "Sorry, man. Bakura just wanted me to ask you something. Are you going to our concert tonight?" He stopped himself for a second. "Then again, well, nevermind. Forget I asked. You sound like you feel pretty crappy."

"Uh-huh. Yeah. I do. I really want to go, but I don't think I can handle all the booming bass music."

"That's okay, he was just curious. Is it cool if Bakura stops by your place? I mean, to check on you?"

"He doesn't have to check on me, Seto. He's not my mom. I can take care of myself."

There was a long silence. Seto did not know quite what to say at first. "Well, I don't know about taking care of yourself, if your parents have continued to hit you. If you could take care of yourself, you definitely would have called the cops by now. He just doesn't want you to get killed. Why don't you cut him a little slack?"

Ryou plopped down onto his soft matress and wrapped himself in his blue sheets. He felt a twinge of guilt as Seto spoke those words. Maybe I should let him come. Let's see, are mom and dad home? He carefully peeked out of his window. There were no cars in the driveway, so he figured his parents were out drinking in order to ease their anger. Better to do that than kill their son. Of course, they wouldn't feel guilty until the lawsuit came.

But that's when it clicked in his head. "Window." An open window. Ryou grinned excitedly. That was it! That was how he could get out of here. He could easily escape out of an open window, could he not?

He could not. It was a second-story window. He did not really feel like tying his sheets together as a rope and climbing down it like some corny James Bond wannabe, either. The risks of that were far too high anyway. One wrong step or slip and he would surely die. So he was stuck. His grin disappeared, and his mental focus returned to Seto.

"Ryou?"

"S-Sorry, daydream. Anyway, my parents aren't home, so it's fine. Tell him thanks for even offering to come and see me. That's really cool of him."

"That's why I know you love him."

A switch in Ryou's brain went off, and he gaped at the phone. Why would he say that?

"What?"

"Nothing. Bakura can come over at midnight, after our concert. Wait up for him, okay?"

Ryou nodded his head (despite knowing that Seto could not see it) and hung up the phone. He looked at the clock. "Eight hours." he grumbled aloud. "Eight long hours, locked in a bedroom, with nothing to do and no one to talk to." Pretty much the only objects within the four-wall area were a blue-clad bed, a plastic nightstand, and a digital clock. Ryou set the alarm to "midnight" and tried his best to just doze off to sleep as he usually did.

It took him several hours, however. He was so banged up that he had a very hard time getting comfortable.

His body was shaking. Shaking from the frigid cold air of the room. He had no warmth but his blue sheet, and that was not much of a help. He could feel his teeth chattering even in his subconscious, sleeping mind. About an hour after he had began to sleep, the shivering began. Then, very gradually, he became more and more chilled.

He didn't know how much later it was when the back of his mind could sense great shaking. Hard shaking. His shoulders were shaking back and forth. Why? People didn't shake that much, no matter how cold they got.

It really hurt, too. Something was clenching one of the many sore spots on his body. Stop it, he thought, now awake. He tried his best to ignore the clench by pulling away from it, but it only came back.

Then a voice followed. "Ryou, get up!"

Ryou grunted, clearly annoyed. So a hand was snatching him around. God, he really had to be rough all the time, didn't he? "Stop!" Ryou shouted, finally turning toward whatever was grabbing him. His brown eyes shot open, ready to glare. But instead of seeing his father like he had expected, he was staring back at another pair of dark brown eyes. "'Kura?" he blinked.

"Cool, you're awake now." said Bakura, who looked at Ryou's clock and turned off the alarm. He sat down next to Ryou on the bed, and he could not help but frown at the state of his friend's bedroom. "You, my friend, need to get the hell out of this place and somewhere with better living conditions. This is not advice, it is an order. Not just for your sake, but my sake, too. I don't want to keep having to come into this hell hole. Now, care to tell me how you got locked in your own bedroom?"

"I'm so sorry for being so rude, Kura-kun. I thought you were. . ." he had apologized, but halted his excuse. He could not tell Bakura that he had thought he was his father. Bakura could not know that he had gotten hurt again. It would cause too much hassle.

Bakura peered solemnly into the other boy's eyes. He almost looked--sad. "Thought I was what? I mean it, Yo-chan. I didn't ask for an apology. I want to know how you got locked in here. Please tell me. I need to know." Bakura's dark, shadowy eyes gazed with an almost all-knowing look.

Why do you always have to know everything? thought Ryou, directing his eyes away from his crush.

"Fine. Then who locked you in here? Who was it?"

Ryou refused to respond.

"Was it your father? Did he lock you in here? Answer me. Please." He looked at him, his facial expression softening a great deal. "He hit you again. Didn't he?"

Ryou hung his head just like he had when he had been with his father. When he opened his mouth to speak, he was unable to utter one word. All he could do was whimper, and then break down into sobs. All of this pain was too much. Why could he not be one of those millions of lucky teens who had caring, loving parents? Who had a wonderful family and a beautiful life going for them? And why do all of the teens who have that take it for granted?

Bakura turned on the lamp for better light. He lifted up Ryou's baggy T-shirt and examined his back without warning. Ryou would have protested, but he was crying too much to do so. Breath catching in his throat at the bruises and scars that plagued the back of Ryou, Bakura quickly let go of the T-shirt's seam and let it cover his body again. This was too much. But he had known it would happen again. Why did he have to wait until it got this bad? "Ryou." he whispered, touching his fingertips to Ryou's pale, bruised arm. Bakura could feel Ryou tense at even the slightest caress, so he quickly pulled away. "It was him, wasn't it? What the hell did he do to you?"

Ryou covered his face with his hands. He did not want to make eye contact with him or even speak to him. As if he was ashamed of something.

That idiot really messed him up. Bakura told himself, supressing his anger. It was very clear. Ryou's once bold confidence and pride was now non-existent. The protest had proven Ryou to be very strong-willed and fearless, so he knew that getting beaten was the only explanation of where that confidence disappeared to.

From behind him, Ryou felt strong arms bracing gently around his body. "Why did he do this?" Bakura whispered in Ryou's ear. His intentions were to get through to Ryou by whatever means possible. "Tell me, Ryou. Why did he hurt you? Why did he lock you in your bedroom? How did he get so angry?"

"Th-the protest. I had to call home for it, and he was about to start bashing gay people, so I-I pushed him. I know it's my fault for getting too physical, but I couldn't help it."

Bakura hugged him tighter, giving a signal to Ryou to stop talking. "It's not your fault. He hurt you too many times in too many ways. Illegal ways. All these times he's hit you, that's child abuse, Ryou. And locking you in your room for hours without food or water? That's called 'child neglect.' We have to call the police. I told you to last time, but now I'm going to make sure you do it. It's the only way to save you from this. Do you really want to keep living like this?" Bakura rested his head on Ryou's shoulder.

Ryou sniffed, wiped his eyes, and shook his head. "No. I don't want him to hurt me anymore. I don't want to see him ever again. I don't want to remember him anymore. I want him to go away."

"Oh, he will. You can bet my ass he will." assured Bakura. He glared out the window, where he could see the parents of Ryou pulling into the driveway. "They're here. We have to call now, before they go off somewhere again. Are you ready?" Ryou nodded, and handed his cell phone to Bakura. The numbers for the local police department were entered into the screen, and a few seconds later, Bakura said:

"Yes. I would like to report a child abuse case."

If you haven't noticed, I edited the chapter. It looks much neater now. So if you haven't noticed, then NOTICE, biatch, and appreciate my hard work :) haha, review, please.