The Beginning
Water flowed around him, enveloping his sore, tired body in a warmth so wonderful, that he never wanted to get out of the bath and into bed. Never wanted to wake up from the trance it put him in to go to work.
His housemate was a well known, well established trouble maker, otherwise known as Bakura, who had frequent run ins with the authorities, and often spent long, tumulous nights in jail. He didn't think those nights were so horrible because when his house mate was in jail, he didn't have to work.
They needed the money, but that didn't mean he enjoyed what he had to do to earn it. He didn't enjoy dressing up like a woman, standing on some street corner, and flagging down horny old men. He didn't enjoy going with them to some run-down hotel on the bad side of town, and sleeping with them in a roach or rodent infested hotel to earn a living.
There was a better way to earn a living. He could finish high school, earn his diploma, and then go on to spend four years in a local college - he didn't have to move away - and major in something he thoroughly enjoyed. Which right now, he had several main loves. Architecture and design, archeology, literature, and art.
He wasn't sure how well he would do in any of those subjects, but for all he knew, he might succeed in one or all of them. He would never find out though, because not only was Bakura a trouble maker, he was also a theif. Which was why he spent so much time getting arrested and going to jail.
He wished tonight was one of those nights, but no, his Bakura had decided to stay home and force him to work instead.
With a heavy sigh, he brought the soap covered sponge up and ran it over his torso. He grabbed a bottle of shampoo from the edge of the tub, opened it, and poured some of the creamy coconut scented liquid into a palm before closing the bottle and returning it to its place on the edge of the tub.
He rubbed the liquid together in his palms, reach up, and lathered up his hair. When he finished, he repeated the action with coconut scented conditioner and lathered.
When a few minutes had passed, he sank into the bath, tipped his head back, and rinsed out his hair. He was just finishing when the bathroom door opened and Bakura came in to check on him.
"Aren't you finished yet?"
Bakura's voice was deep and gravelly with just the barest hint of a posh Brittish accent. If he were an anime character and spoke like that, the fan-girls, and even some fan-guys, he was sure, would be all over him. Of course, they would regret becoming involved with him once they found out what he was really like.
"Almost. I was just rinsing out my hair."
He would have asked Bakura for his help if he weren't trying to stall going in to work. "Give me just a couple more minutes, please. I promise, I won't be long."
"Five minutes." Bakura grumbled after a minute or so had passed. "You had better be ready."
The bathroom door slammed shut, and when he looked, he was alone in the bath once more. The warmth and tranquility of the water that had once enveloped him was gone. When Bakura left the room, it left with him.
He sighed and finished bathing.
He hated his life.
[After a very long time has passed, I decided to update this story. I am hoping to write more, but I have five assignments to work on over the weekend. So I might not have time. I'm sorry and will resume work on this story when I have time. Thanks to all who have read and reviewed. Happy Holidays!]
[Disclaimer: You have a serious problem on your pretty little hands if you think I would be posting fanfiction if I owned the real Yu-Gi-Oh! franchise.]