Lalalala, short pathetic update. Yeah, it's a bit confusing where Marik and Malik are invovled, but sooner or later, I will explain entirely. Do not fear!
Originally, I wanted Malik as Raoul, but I hated Malik x Ryou pairings, adn I so wanted Marik to be in the place of Raoul. So...(beams)
yes, the characters will be singing. Look! It's "Think of Me" in this chapter! And a little bit of "Music of the Night"!
Disclaimer: Don't own YGO, or PotO. There. Nor the lyrics. Oh, I do own Ayato though! He's sort of a Kyo-like person, but with more hyperness and less termpermental issues. you know. Kyo from Fruit Baskets?
Chapter Three
"Come on, Ryou," Yugi ushered, pushing against me as I stared at the closed door with uneasiness.
"N-no…I don't think I can Yugi," I said weakly, eyeing the door with apprehensive wariness. "N-no…let's just forget this entire thing, okay Yugi? It's not even really that important…"
"Come on, Ryou-kun," sighed Yugi. "For your father's sake?"
I gulped.
Suddenly, the all-too familiar voice of my angel sang softly in my ear, coaxing me with his heavenly and comforting presence.
"Little Ryou…this is your first test," my angel spoke softly, disappointment and anger clearly laced in his voice, "You want to be stronger, don't you? Come now, do not disappoint me, Little Ryou. I don't want my weeks of teachings to be in utter vain."
I froze, then swallowed guiltily. Yugi was still attempting to push me through the oak doors, where the auditorium was filled with students attempting to audition.
It had been weeks since my introduction with my angel, and for every night following that night, in my dreams, he would visit. He would bring me to a room, though I was not sure where, but a room, with a roaring fire and cushy armchairs. I would sit by his side and listen to his teachings, learning all that I could.
Occasionally he listened to me sing, in payment for what he had been teaching me. His shadow, always shielding his face and hiding his hair, would simply lean back in his chair and observe me with his haunting brown eyes. I would sit on the floor near his side, singing when my lesson of self-reliance was over, while he observed me and listened.
"You have a lovely voice," he once said softly, his gloved fingers reaching over to feel my hair. I blinked up, smiling a hesitant, small smile as blush tinted my cheeks pink once again. "I have no doubt that you can make it through the auditions, Little Ryou. However, you need to worker harder on your assignments of self-defense."
I had nodded obediently, looking firmly up at him.
"I trust you have not been tempted by leisure activities?" he had asked, his eyes narrowing sharply. I had hastily shaken my head.
"No, Phantom, Angel, I have not," I assured. I looked up at him. "Angel…perhaps one day…would it be alright if I see your face?"
He gave me a sharp, hard look, that even within the darkness of the shadows I had flinched at.
"No," he said simply. "Never. You may never look at my face, Little Ryou. Should you wish for me to stay as your angel, you will come to learn that you will never see my face. Never."
I had nodded, staring at the ground.
"I'm sorry for upsetting you, my Angel."
"Little Ryou," he had whispered softly, his fingers skillfully titling my head up to face his, "you needn't fear. Consider it as a precaution, for should you never look at my face, no harm will ever come to you. Do you understand?"
I had nodded again, glancing at the floor. Though despite he was my angel, sometimes, simply by his teachings alone, reflected how dark and dangerous he could be. I had learned to take precaution as to not to anger him; for fear that he might hurt me, and also, for fear that he would leave me.
"I understand, Angel."
"Ryou," hissed my Angel now. "Your first test. Will you succeed? Or will all my attempts be in utter vain?"
"No, it won't," I replied, straightening confidently. Unfortunately, I had forgotten that Yugi was practically throwing all his weight against me, and as I straightened, he accidentally collided into my spine, sending both of us through the oak doors and sprawling onto the carpet ground.
I could almost feel my angel's embarrassment now.
"Ow," Yugi muttered a bit, nursing his head. "Ryou, what was that for?"
"I'm sorry," I apologized sincerely, my cheeks blushing pink from embarrassment.
"That's okay," Yugi assured, getting up and brushing his pants a bit. He looked concernedly upon his Millennium Puzzle, which was hanging on a thick chain around his neck. "Wooh. I'm glad it's not broken."
"I doubt it can be," I said, getting up also. "Father said that the Items are unbreakable. By anything."
"It's solid gold though," Yugi countered, examining his precious gift closely.
Giggling, I grasped onto Yugi's hand, and, staring determinedly ahead, walked down the aisle.
"I can do this," I kept on muttering to myself. "I can do this."
"Of course you can, Ryou!" Yugi piped up, a little too loud. Heads swiveled around to look at us, and I could just imagine how appalled each of them looked. Of course, I could only have imagined, since I was staring dead straight ahead of me, my eyes widening with each step I took.
The stage was meters way!
Feet away!
I stopped at the stage steps, staring up at the monstrous wooden structure with utter awe, until I felt Yugi tug at my sleeve. Sheepishly, I turned away, making a note as to not look at my companions, and sat down in the front row.
There were only guys left, since the woman roles had been auditioned for earlier that day. Everywhere, jocks and heavily built men surrounded me; handsome, strong ones with dark brown hair, dangerous, naughty ones with slick black hair, demure or mischievous paler ones with slicked up hair.
…I was surrounded by Raouls!
But it was not like I was Phantom material, anyways. I hardly looked human, with my white hair and dark brown eyes, much less a Phantom. Heck, I couldn't even pass as a guy unless I was wearing my sweater!
As I began to berate myself with self-criticism and doubt, I could almost feel a small chiding sense inside of me, as though one was tugging at the back of my mind.
"Calm down, Ryou," I whispered to myself. "Calm down. Calm down. We can all do this. We can do this."
Yugi barely even heard my attempts at self-confidence. He seemed to be staring off into space, as though thinking with himself, before he suddenly snapped out of his reverie and shook me.
"You can do this, Ryou-kun!" he beamed.
I smiled weakly at him. "Thanks."
Gradually the room began to dim, signaling the start for the auditions. Madame Giry made herself present uptop the stage, wearing a long, simple black dress with white ruffles. She looked like a French maid doll.
"Studentz," she called, beaming as she clapped her hands. "Zis is the first, and only performance of ze Phantom of ze Opera, and I am so glad to see all of you 'ave come to try out. We 'ardly ever get zis many studentz, I assure you."
A round of snickers of agreement resounded around the room. I took the darkness as my advantage to blush furiously when I realized that a couple of girls had opened up one of the doors and were staring at me intently, giggling all the while.
"You're so popular, Ryou-kun," Yugi teased.
"Oh, be quiet," I moaned, resisting the urge to curl up into a ball and hide away.
"We will be calling you in alphabetical order," Madame Giry continued, "starting with your last namez."
Oh great. 'Bakura' would be relatively close to the top. 'Motou' would at least be somewhere in the middle.
"Hey, Bakura-kun!" whispered a voice.
Both Yugi and I swiveled around, to see Ayato, one of our classmates, wink at us from the row behind us. Both Yugi and I smiled in greeting.
"Hello, Ayato-kun!"
Ayato. He was a playful, mischievous sort of person, the one who makes everyone laugh, the one who usually smart the substitute teachers off. He was a very friendly person, if not a little wild; his smirk and smile as bright as his flaming red hair, thin and sharp, falling in narrow, messy spikes uptop his head. His eyes were a bright, vivid green, laced with hazel at the edges, which gave him a rather cat-like appearance. Especially when they glowed in the dark.
Like now.
"Hey, Ayato-kun," I smiled pleasantly. "How are you?"
"Good," Ayato nodded, flashing me a smile. "What about this play eh? Pretty classy. An opera."
"This school has always been very well known for the historical arts," I said, smiling. "What are you here for?"
At this, Ayato flashed another grin, rubbing his hands together in a rather villain-ish fashion.
"Dropping a chandelier?"
I couldn't help but giggle, since it didn't seem very far off to have Ayato-kun prancing on the stage lights and swinging from the jewels of the ornament.
"That wouldn't be nice, Ayato-kun," I chided.
"Yeah, well," Ayato grinned. "Maybe I'll do it for the opening night."
"So you're here to audition for Erik?" Yugi asked cheerfully.
"Nah," Ayato said, waving a careless hand. "My friend Mano is though."
"Mano?" I repeated, racking my head back a bit. Who was Mano again? I knew Mako…he was a local fisherman's son, always helping out with the fish markets nearby. He was pretty strong and a bit straight-forward and determined.
"Mano," Ayato confirmed. "Doubt you've met him, Bakura-kun. He's more on the dangerous side." The redhead winked, nudging me with his elbow. "And I doubt you're ever there, eh, Bakura-kun?"
I blushed furiously. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"I knew you wouldn't," Ayato laughed, his red spikes shaking as he threw his head back. "You wouldn't want to meet him, though, Bakura-kun. Mai's got her eyes set on him."
"Mai?" I repeated. "You mean the blond girl in our English class?"
"The one and only," Ayato nodded. "She tried out for Christine, because Mano's trying out for Erik. Ironic, isn't it?"
"Do they…er…want to be together?" Yugi asked, knowing full well how dangerous gossip was, and didn't quite wish for any school caste mishaps to occur.
"Yep," Ayato nodded. "Don't worry yourself, Yugi-kun. They got it all figured out."
Suddenly, there was silence in the room, and all three of us turned back to the stage. Madame Giry didn't seemed to have commenced the auditions, since no one was going on, but yet she was standing off to the side, awaiting patiently for someone. Distinctly, I heard footsteps thudding dully closer and closer to the stage.
"I would like to introduce to you," the French teacher said, beaming, "our patron this year for our 'istorical artz, as well as ze Egyptian Exhibition in the museum…"
A tall, finely built young man, with fine golden hair that shot up towards the heavens, and heavenly tanned complexion, stepped up upon the stage. His face held a cold, stone expression, accented by the sharp kohl lines at the edges of his narrow eyes. In an instant, the girls huddling near the doors shrieked and squealed at this godly figure, the doors banging shut as females swooned and fainted by the doors.
I gasped.
"Marik!"
All sounds were tuned out instantly in my ears, as I sat there, watching, with awe and amazement, as Marik barely acknowledged the audience with a nod, before stealthily entering back into the shadows, his amethyst eyes blazing in the darkness.
"Who is he?" Yugi whispered. "Ryou-kun, you're looking so flushed."
"It's him," I breathed. "It's him. It's Marik."
"Marik?" Yugi repeated.
"The boy," I whispered back. "The boy in the underground palace when I went to Egypt!"
I could remember him so clearly…
I was only nine when I first accompanied my father to Egypt. Pyramids rose in the morning sun and cast shadows upon us when the star set. Father was overseeing the archeology dig, occasionally laughing and patting me on the back, urging me to follow his footsteps. He'd even allow me go down with the archeologists, despite the workers' complaints about having a child among them.
"Let him play," my father laughed. "He's going to be in charge of this one day, why not let him start now?"
Of course, a couple groaned at that.
I, of course, merely sat from the dig, watching my father and being careful of my surroundings. I would've loved to dig, but I knew that I would only cause trouble among the workers. Plus, the sun was not good on my soft and sensitive skin. Even on that hot summer day, despite sitting beneath the shade of the dried leaves of a palm tree, I had been swathed in thin linens, and a hood and veil, including a scarf. It was a scarf my mother had made for me, and my Japanese name and my English name had been embroidered in gold thread on the edge. Father had one similar too. "James Bakura", it read on his.
As I sat there among the scorching dunes, idly playing with the peeking blades of grass, I had noticed an abandoned dig somewhere off. Curious, I wandered over, carefully taking measured steps with my sandaled shoes, before coming towards the large stone pillars, partly unearthed by the wisping sand. They stood tall, ominous, almost, cracked and withering, but still beautiful in my eyes.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" asked my father's voice fondly.
I whipped around, glancing up at him with wide eyes. "Father?"
He smiled at me, before looking at the stone pillars once more. "I've never actually been in there before. They say it's cursed."
"But that's never stopped you before," I laughed, taking his hand. "Can we go in? Please?"
His eyes twinkled, the same way mine did when I was also excited. "Why not?"
Hence the two of us strode forwards, entering the shadows of the pillars. The entire embankment was dark, ominous, as was the outside. Indescribable hieroglyphics shone from deep within the darkness, flashing at us with incoherent vision.
We wandered about, me never leaving my father's hand, until we had come to a stop in front of a wall. I had not learned anything about hieroglyphics yet, but my father was an expert, and soon, he was engaged into reading the little squiggly lines that I myself could not decipher.
So, I got bored.
"This is absolutely fascinating!" my father breathed. "It is rumored that the ancient Keepers of the Pharaoh live beneath here."
"What about the curse?" I asked, wandering towards a corner. There was an unusually large mound of sand there, as though the embankment had been leaking with the golden grains.
"Something about 'he who trespasses will fear the darkness of the night'," my father chuckled. "Sound familiar, Little Ryou?"
I giggled. "Sounds like Erik."
Father laughed, before he began to sing, his low tenor voice echoing off the empty walls.
"Night time charms and heightens each sensation…"
"…darkness wakes and stirs imagination," I sang along with him, giggling. He broke off, grinning at me.
"You got your mother's talent," he said, shaking his head.
I shook my head too. "No. I have your voice."
"Well, that's because I've been taught by the Angel of Music," Father joked.
"Is mother an angel too?"
Father faltered at this slightly, before giving me an assuring smile. "Yes. Mother is an angel too."
"And Amane?" I asked. Father nodded, smiling.
"Amane too," he said. Then he lightly punched me in the shoulder playfully. "And so are you."
"Then you're an angel too!" I beamed, hugging him. He chuckled, before moving to wrap his arms around me. However, something went a little wrong.
For when Father had moved to return the embrace, his hand had slipped pass a curve in the wall. Suddenly, the floor creaked, before it began to tilt slightly. I gasped, losing my balance, and promptly fell toward the mound of sand.
"Ryou!" my father yelled worriedly.
The mound began to shift, ebbing away towards the side. I yelped once more, flailing my arms desperately as a felt the floor beneath me shake, before tilting farther down.
"Daddy! Help me!" I cried.
"Hold on, Ryou!" Father yelled, reaching his hand toward me. "Grab my hand!"
Suddenly, the mounds of sand shifted entirely. I flailed once more, before I fell…
"Ryou! Ryou!"
Startled, I jolted up, thrashing my head around for any sign of danger. The only thing that was hurting me though, was Yugi poking at my upper arm.
"Ryou!" he whispered again.
"I'm sorry," I apologized, pushing his finger away from me, as I felt my sensitive skin already bruise from such a repetitive abuse. "What's going on?"
"You dozed off," Yugi said, frowning. "You were looking all glazed."
"Did I miss something?" I asked worriedly.
Yugi shook his head. "No, no. They're at the end of the As, now. I just thought you would've liked to see Ayato in action."
"Ayato?" I repeated. "But he said he was only here to see Mano…"
Suddenly, a high but rather flat note was hit, and the next moment Ayato came flying off the stage, the chandelier swinging precariously as he cackled like mad and ran for the door. Before the doors closed, he winked at me.
"…there worse things than a shattered chandelier!"
"He changed his mind," Yugi said simply. I shook my head, chuckling exasperatedly as stage hands desperately attempted to stop the swinging precipice. The oak doors shut, but Ayato's laughter was still heard, echoed by those of the audience.
Madame Giry came back up, chuckling also. "Well," she said, a rueful smile on her lips. "That was unique." She glanced at her list, before regarding the student population once more. Sighing forlornly, I stood up, knowing that my name was about to be called.
"Monsieur Bakura!"
"Ow! Hey!"
Blinking, I shot my eyes open, before I came to realize that I was lying at a terrible angle on something soft. My father's anxious face was above me, staring from what seemed to be the open doors of a trap door.
"Ryou!" he yelled. "Are you alright?"
"I'm….I'm fine, Father!" I called back, wincing as I felt my back.
"If you don't mind," said a voice behind me moodily, "could you please kindly get off?"
'Eeep'-ing, I quickly scrambled off my human pillow, hastily backing up the steps of the trap door towards my father. A shadow grunted, scrambling up also.
"What's your problem?" he asked, pouting. His voice seemed to be that of a child's, roughly around my age. However, he spoke with an accent, an Egyptian one at that. "Can't you see where you're going?"
"I'm…I'm sorry," I stuttered. "I honestly I had no idea where …where I was going…I'm so sorry!"
He shook his head, finally coming out of the shadows. I blinked.
Though he was small, he was a full three inches taller than I was, with large lavender eyes and golden, flaxen hair. My eyes widened at his. Such a deep lavender; they reminded my of my mother's flowers on the kitchen table, deep, rich and beautiful.
Yet, despite the memory of my mother, I had come to realize that this child's eyes were different shade than that of my mother's flowers. They were a pastel shade of lavender, glazed and smooth, like shadings of mauve and magenta.
"You're not supposed to be here," he said, frowning at me. "Get out of here, foreigner."
"Malik!" called a woman's voice. I froze, shaking a little. Malik turned back, his eyes wide as his golden hair flailed across his shoulders. He turned back to look at me, blinking oddly.
A teenage girl came running into view, her dark hair billowing out from behind her. She stopped short when she saw me, and I began to shake more violently. Her blue eyes widened drastically, before my father's voice echoed down from above.
"I'm so sorry to have bothered you!" he called anxiously. "Please forgive us. We were merely exploring the embankment above…I am James Bakura, the leader of the archeology crew that's working here. My son just fell down…ah…could you please bring him back up?"
"We have stairs," said the blond boy, blinking. He pointed to the crumbling stairway. I made a scared face; the stones looked as though they were to shatter the moment I lay foot upon them.
"Wait a minute," said my father's voice. "…aren't you…you're living underground?"
"We don't need to answer your questions!" the girl said sharply. She grabbed Malik's hand, giving him a look. "Malik, come on…Father will be mad…"
"You're…you're a Keeper?" I asked, my eyes lighting up. "A Keeper?"
Malik gave me a hard stare that looked a lot like a pout. "I am not!"
"Yes he is," the girl sighed. "Come on, Malik…"
However, he wrenched his arm away from her, giving her a look. "I don't WANT to be a Keeper!"
"Malik, not now!" the girl hushed anxiously.
"I assure you," interrupted my father's voice calmly. I looked up, and saw that he was carefully coming down the steps of the stairway. "We mean no harm. We know of the Pharaoh's Keepers, and we would not ever divulge their whereabouts to the world. You needn't fear us."
Malik blinked, staring up at the girl, then back at me. Suddenly his eyes flashed excitedly, before he began to bounce up and down. "You came from the outside world?"
"Ahh…yes," I smiled shyly.
"Then you can tell me all about it!" Malik beamed. He looked up at the girl. "Please, sister! Please!"
"Malik, I don't know," she said uneasily. "Father will be upset…"
"I shall talk with your father then," my own said firmly. He had finally reached the bottom steps, and laid a hand on my shoulder. I ran to him, hugging him around the waist. "This is my son, Ryou. We will be staying here for a couple of months, possibly years, and we have no decent place to stay. Our last hotel was destroyed by a sandstorm. If it is not too much trouble, may we stay here with you?"
"Why on earth would you want to do that?" the girl asked.
Father smiled. "My son, Ryou. He's always bored when I'm doing my excavating in the above world, I'm sure he'd be glad to stay with a boy his age. Malik, is it?" my father asked, fluent Egyptian rolling off his tongue. Malik nodded, before turning excitedly to his sister.
"Please, Isis!" he pleaded. "Please?"
"We…we have to ask Father," Isis replied uneasily. My father stepped up, laying a hand on her shoulder.
"It will be fine," he assured kindly. "I will talk to your father. I mean no harm. We would not tell anyone about the Keepers who live underground. All I ask is for us to stay in the meantime, until we find another place to stay."
"Okay!" Malik beamed, grabbing my hand and running off.
"Malik!" Isis called worriedly, while my father chuckled.
"He needs some self-confidence," I heard my father explain to Isis softly. "Ryou. I was hoping that if he stayed with Malik, he would have a friend to stay with him should I ever go."
Isis nodded. "I understand. Malik doesn't get along very well with the other children either." She turned to my father. "Well then…I suppose…you will do all the talking, won't you?"
My father nodded. "Yes."
Malik jerked me back to reality, beaming at me. "So, what's your name again?" he asked.
"Ryou," I said, smiling weakly, a blush appearing on my nose. Malik giggled, poking at my nose.
"You're turning red! You're so pale!" he said, poking my nose again. I couldn't help but giggle too.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Malik," he said, though I had missed the pronunciation the second time. "Malik."
"Marrik," I repeated. He shook his head.
"Mah…Lik," he said slowly. I stopped, frowning with concentration.
"Mah…Rik…"
Again he shook his head. "MaLIK."
"MaRIK."
My father laughed from behind us. "That's his mother's Japanese kicking in."
"Japanese?" Isis wondered.
"Yes," my father nodded. "Seems as though despite he can speak English very well, Ryou can't seen to speak any other language without falling on his mother's Japanese for help. And in Japan, you don't pronounce the L in many words. They pronounce it like an R."
"Ah, I see," Isis nodded, as I desperately continued to get Malik's name right.
"MaLIK!" he said, putting heavy emphasis on the L.
"MaRIK!"
I stood up on stage, finally now realizing that I was staring at thousands of eyes. I spotted Jonouchi and Honda way in the back, cheering me on, and blushed. Casting my eyes back, I saw Marik standing in the shadows, his eyes lingering with mine. I felt my heart race, but thought nothing of it.
Well, I knew how to pronounce "Malik" now. Though despite I had grown to pronounce Malik's name after his tenth birthday, after his …initiation…he insisted that I continue calling him "Marik."
His initiation…a Keeper's glory…
I still have nightmares about it.
After he had his initiation, his personality changed. I could understand that. Having his back scarred for life would change his view on certain things on life. He rarely spoke to anyone, unless it was either my father, Isis, or his adoptive brother, or me. And with me and Father, he changed most drastically. He was still…the innocent boy that I had first met, with Isis and Rishid, but with me and my father…he was darker, more mature, more strong.
Would he still remember me now?
I noted his cold glare from the shadows. Those eyes that I had remembered were pastel lavender were now dark amethyst, piercing violet fire.
Would he still remember me?
Taking a deep breath, and feeling my angel chide me deep inside, I stared back out at the audience, and began to sing.
It felt lovely, singing like this. It was a song that I had adored when I was younger, a song that my father and I used to sing by Marik's bed when he was resting his scars. Occasionally my father played the violin, accompanying the song while I sang.
"Think of me…think of me fondly when we've said good bye…
Remember me, once in a while, please promise me you'll try
When you find that once again you long
To take your heart back and be free
But please promise me that sometimes,
You will think of me…"
I felt his gaze linger upon me, and dared a look. His eyes were slowly growing back to a soft lavender, but he made no move to come to me, or to acknowledge me, other than his piercing gaze. I swallowed, feeling a little upset that he didn't seem to remember me, but continued the song that Christine sang during the musical, that my Father and Mother changed slightly to bring it down an octave for me. I was, after all, an alto, despite the fact that occasionally I could sing tenor.
"Think of all the things we've shared and seen
Don't think about the things that might've been
Think of me, think of me waking silent and resign
Imagine me, trying so hard to put you from my mind
Rid all those days, look back on all those times
Think of the things we'd rather do
There would never be a day that I don't think of
…you!"
Marik POV
Gods, I couldn't believe it. After all those years, after I had stuffed my lighter half into the deepest corner of my heart, there he was…Little Ryou!
I could tell he had remembered me. He stared at me for a single second, his eyes glittering with hope and happiness, as he sang the very same song that I had listened to, the night after my initiation.
Oh, the memories it brought back.
Would he still care for me? I had only known him a few weeks before my initiation, but a few months after that. Which did he remember? The lighter me that first greeted him, or the darker me that saved his precious scarf from a sandstorm when he was ten?
Oh, how I had longed to simply walk there, capture him in my arms, and grin and sing with him once more. His father had always been different from my father. His father took me in, cared for me like his own son, despite his own losses of a wife, and soon after he met me, a daughter. Even when I had killed my own father, Mr. Bakura still cared for me, understood me, and Ryou was still there for me. He didn't turn away like the servants did, he didn't run away like the other kids did. If anything, he kept by me, and stayed with me.
I had never known such compassion from strangers.
As he continued to sing, I marveled at his wondrous voice. Though melodious and talented when he was younger, he was certainly breathtaking now! As he sang, words and notes of memories floated into my mind, echoing in harmony with his wondrous voice.
"Can it be? Can it be Ryou?"
He had finished his verse, though I mentally continued mine. The auditorium burst into applause, and, hiding within the depths of the shadows, so did I.
"Bravo!
What a change! You're really not a bit
The gawkish boy that once you were!
He may not remember me, but I remember him…"
Despite he had finished his verse, the audience sat silent, waiting for more. A couple of boys from the back and front whopped and clapped their hands, yelling, "Ryou! Ryou!" He dared another look at me, and for a moment, I was frozen shock, unable to return the beautiful glance, before he turned back, his face pinking.
I watched as he cast a nervous look towards Madame Giry. She nodded, smiling, and for a moment, he took a deep breath, anxiously watching the audience. For another moment, he stared down at the floor, as though mentally debating with himself. Suddenly, filled with abrupt anticipation and confidence, he looked up, and continued singing.
As did I, softly under my own breath.
"We never said our love was evergreen
Or as unchanging as the sea
But please promise me that sometime, you will think…"
He took a deep breath here, his tenor voice pitching into an alto, echoing against the walls of the auditorium.
"Oooofffff……. ME!"
He released his breath as the audience burst out into applause once more. Several girls from the doors shrieked and fainted, whereas I remained watching from the shadows, breathless with anticipation. Looking relieved and excited, Ryou hugged himself, tears in his eyes, as he nodded to Madame Giry and walked down the stage.
"I have thought of you, Little Ryou," I whispered. "I have indeed."
I did type out the part with Ryou singing the "ah ah ah ah Ah, aha ah ah ah Ah," but then I thought, "he's a guy, forget it." Of course, I do believe Micheal Crawford did sing "Think of Me" one time, but I dont' have his version to inspire Ryou's voice.
Forgive me if the "Think of Me" lyrics are a little off; I dont' have my little liberetto and I dont' dare to search these things online. So I just listen realy hard and go, eh, this is how I thought of it. And typed it out.
I memroized these things by heart, people! (claps) I am that obsessed!