3. Running Water
PRESENT
A loud pound on the door didn't even cause him to wake up. He had been up late the night before dressing any wounds that Bakura had given him last night. Then after that, he studied for his classes.
Bakura swings open the door and shouts, "Ryou! Get out of bed!"
Ryou jumps up and look up at his guardian. "Sorry, Bakura," he whispers. He stands up and tries not to stretch any of his sore muscles. His muscles were tender from his most recent battering. Ryou shuffles past him towards his dresser.
"Be thankful I even bothered to get you up for school today," Bakura hisses.
Ryou pulls out his school uniform. He doesn't answer him and goes to pull off his torn and blood stained shirt but feels cruel eyes on him. "Bakura?" Ryou turns around slowly to face him through his white hair. The locks were dyed red while stuck to his forehead from the bloody cuts on his face. The dark bruises gave off a shadowy, dark aura.
Bakura pushes himself off of the doorframe and leans closer to him. Ryou tries to back away from him but Kura grabs his arm. "I think you should bathe and get cleaned off before leaving the house. We wouldn't want someone to find out any unnecessary information."
"What?! No!" Ryou cries out. He doesn't have enough strength the fight back. But Ryou tries to struggle with all the strength he has left in him. He scrambles to escape Kura's firm grasp. But he's much too strong to get away from. Ry stared wide-eyed at the white tub.
'Is he going to kill me?' Ryou thought as the tub fills with water. The cool water rises and Kura is sure to hold Ryou in place by grasping the tender wrists behind his back. The older male looks at the helpless teen. Teen...Ryou is still a young boy, a young cute kid only in his late teens; 18 at the oldest. Kura takes slight notice towards the beautiful bundle he's about to harm once again. Bakura doesn't bother to turn off the faucet when he shoves him into the tub.
His legs still sticking out, Ryou began to thrash around wildly. But his movement stops when his legs and arms are held by Bakura. With his other hand he dunks Ryou's head below the tinted surface. Once he is satisfied with his work he grabs the front of Ryou's shirt and hauls him out while gashing his forehead on the running faucet.
Bakura shoves him out into the hall. Ryou hits the wall and slides down leaving a crimson, watery streak on the wall. Blood is now seeping from his wound while leaking into his eye. Kura groans at the wound and picks him up. He carries him so that Ryou am close against his body, like a baby.
An intoxicating scent glides into Bakura's nostrils making him stop and glace at Ry's face. Green eyes look as if they were debating on whether to close or not by settling half way; giving Ryou an exhausted look. He just rests his chin on his chest and stares blankly into space.
'Why am I feeling bad about him?' Bakura asks himself looking at the gash on his forehead.
He lays the limp body on the bed and heads back to the washroom to grab a washcloth and bandages so he can clean up the wound. Kura collects the gauze and heads back. He stops instantly when he actually takes notice to the skinny battered body.
Ryou is wearing a pair of ratted jeans that has holes everywhere from knives, rug burns, and blood stains. His shirt isn't even its original color anymore. The one Malik had bought him. The blue stripes were mixed with ugly purple blotches. The white lines are stained a brownish-red from dried blood. He looks down at the floor while slowly trudging back to the bedside. Even the floor took a toll on Kura's feelings with all the blood and tattered carpet.
The cold cloth made Ryou shudder just a bit when it touches his hot forehead. Bakura sets the bandages down then examines his body. From what is visible through the holed denim, it is obvious that not many blades missed their target. The arms were bruised from blocking some shots, the tight grasps around them, and from cuts that have not gotten a chance to heal over. Bakura has enough guilt at that moment to apologize but Ryou wouldn't believe if he told the truth.
'I have to do something,' Bakura thinks. He hovers over the boy's body, as gentle as a mother; he wipes the wound clean of blood. With a Q-tip, Kura dabs antibiotic ointment on the wound to sterilize it. Finally he places a bandage on the boy's bruised forehead.
A light finger trails across one bruise on Ryou's smooth, creamy cheek. Cupping the wound Kura licked his lips from nervousness. He listened in silence to Ryou's slow steady breaths. Then looking over his body he rises out of his chair and runs out of the house; afraid of the strange feeling that had come over him.
Ryou finally makes a move about fifteen minutes after Bakura left.
"What the heck? Why does my head hurt so much? And why am I all wet?" Ryou asks aloud. Gripping his head Ryou slowly gets to his feet. With a half an hour to get to school Ryou walks toward the corner of the room to get the uniform he had dropped.
"How did this get on the floor? The ground outside is cleaner than this." Sarcasm dripped off the comment.
Ryou heads slowly down the halls while taking occasional breaks to hold his throbbing head. Finally making it to the bathroom Ryou looks first at the blood stroked wall. With a head shake Ry turns into the room and spots the mirror. Looking up, hoping to see himself, he sees the bathtub behind him. He gasps at the sight of the entire bathroom. The tub is overflowing with water mixed with blood...his blood. Spinning around Ryou heads over to the tub and turn off the faucet and pull the plug.
"I don't have time to clean this up. I have to get dressed and go. Now. I'll just have to hurry home and clean up."
Grabbing his uniform Ryou pulls off his stained shirt, hurting his neck in the process, and swaps it with his clean white shirt and jacket. He had specifically requested a blue uniform because he had a pair of navy pants to match the jacket.
After his painful, difficult task of getting dressed, Ryou grabs his backpack, his winter coat, and an apple. He couldn't lock the door in case Bakura didn't come home to unlock it; it's happened before. Ry paused that the memory. He groaned in silent disgust. Slipping on his white tennis shoes Ryou walks out the door.
With that Ryou slowly forces his sore body to walk. The harsh winter winds are extremely bitter on his bruised body. He had taken the time to tend to his wounds only so they would stop bleeding. Most of the time Ryou wasn't even able to do that.
'Today is going to be a pretty good day...I can feel it.' Ryou thought to his self as he reaches the school grounds.
Even with 10 minutes to spare Ryou didn't bother to stop to chat with his friends. He walks right past the small group but one of them spots him in the crowd. He doesn't say anything to get his attention but he excuses himself from his friends.
Ryou stops at his locker and turns the dial with his code. '40-24-4,' he says mentally but as he finishes a voice calls out from behind him. He whirls around to greet the welcoming burgundy eyes of his friend...boyfriend to be correct.
"Hey Ryou," Yami says while he strides up to him in his usual manor.
"Hi Yami," Ryou answers blushing.
Trying to hide his newly formatted cut, Ryou shift head so his hair falls gently over it. Yami tilts his head to the side and asks what he was hoping not to hear. "Ryou, what's going on at home? I don't ever recall seeing you without a new cut or bruise. Now here you are and you have this monster gash on your forehead."
"It's okay. Don't worry about it," the green eyed boy responds timidly, turning away from his friend.
"Well then how did it come to be?" Yami asks with his arms crossed.
Quickly thinking up an excuse Ryou says, "I was running through the house and I ran into a door."
Obviously not believing his story he leans over to him and whispers, "Well just be careful Ryou. I don't like to see you hurt." He kisses his wound and smiles. Blushing like a red beet Ryou grabs his books and apologizes for leaving to class.
His first class is one of the two out of six that make him feel good; English and choir. Ryou is an extremely great writer and poet; well he would have to be to get in to this English class. As he walks into the room, the teacher looks up from one of the paper he's reading; which happens to be Ry's most recent poem.
"Ryou, come here. I want to ask you about this paper," Mr. Peterson calls out when Ryou enter the room.
Ryou looks up to him and nods, "Of course." Rushing to put the books down, Ryou heads right back over to his desk. "What is it sir?"
"Ryou, this poem you wrote, it's nicely written and has a very..." he pauses for a moment and quickly finishes, "strong, cruel and upsetting atmosphere."
Ryou look down, obviously hurt, "What do you want me to do about it? It came from my heart; everything I can remember since I moved here is right there in your hands."
Mr. Peterson looks deep into his hurt jade eyes. "I don't want you to write anything else like this again. You got it?"
"Yes sir."
"Now take your seat, class is about to start."
Ryou takes the paper from his hands and sits at his desk. With the poem laying flat on the small table Ryou couldn't resist reading it over and over again.
'It's all true. Every word on this paper written in black ink is my emotion but every red word is Bakura's. Too bad he doesn't know what it means,' thinks Ryou, hurt.
Ryou hadn't heard a word Mr. Peterson had just said, frankly Ryou didn't care. The sound of the large text book opening caught his attention. After getting the assignment the bell rings. Perhaps today wouldn't be as good as he thought.
"Man I sure hope that he loses the solo. Don't you want Vanessa to win it?" One of the girls in fourth hour says to the group of friends. The blonde next to her agrees instantly, "Well no one in this school likes that Ryou-kid anyways. Vanessa is the most popular girl in the school. So if we all agree on a class vote, everyone will vote Vanessa, hands down."
Ryou shifts uncomfortably in his seat when the instructor enters the choir room. It wasn't true that no one liked him. He had plenty of friends. These girls would harass anyone they wanted, they had the school power. Not even the principals had any control of them. If they didn't like you, they'd tear your school reputation apart.
"Alright group, I've decided on a class vote for solos. I'll allow you to pick whose song you want to hear at the 13th Annual Christmas Assembly," Mrs. Brinkley exclaims excitedly.
All the students squeal with delight except Ryou. He knew that there is no way that he could beat Vanessa in popularity votes but he could win for ranking votes, unfortunately Ryou knew it wouldn't happen.
"Okay now are going to vote. Here are the rules; you can vote for yourself but you can only vote once. The two people we are voting for are Ryou and Vanessa."
The class sat patiently and Mrs. Brinkley calls off Ryou's name first. One, two, five...five hands came up; Ryou didn't vote.
The teacher looks at him and sighs, "Ryou, I would like to talk to you after class alright?"
Ryou doesn't even look up but nods. The other vote was spoken and Vanessa won; hands down.
After what seems like hours of torture by girls who didn't know him, the bells ring. Still in his seat Ryou scowls upwards to spy Vanessa's group strutting out the door. "Good-for-nothing-bitches," Ryou growls but he's interrupted by Mrs. Brinkley. With his books under his arm, Ryou approaches his Choir instructor.
"Yes ma'am?" he asks timidly.
"Ryou...I'm worried about you. Your lyrics are that of an angel and yet you tell me that you live with the devil himself. What's wrong?" Mrs. Brinkley inquires, fiddling with a pen.
"Nothing is wrong. I just wrote a poem about how I've been since I've been here and well Mr. Peterson didn't accept it," sighs Ry, irritably.
"Do you mind if I read your work, Ryou?"
Pulling the paper out of the gray binder Ryou hands it over.
"Why Ryou," she begins while her eyes skim the lines, "this is wonderful. I'm glad you aren't writing the song now. Ryou want you to read this poem to the school."
"What's the point?" Ryou asks feeling a little better that he now has someone is on his side.
She hands the paper back to him and says, "I can tell that you don't have many friends. You also don't get along with any other people. I'm sure if you read that poem to the school everyone would understand you better."
The final bell rings and Ryou stares at the clock.
"Crap...not again."
"Don't worry, I'll write you a pass." Ryou accepts the pink note and rushes off to the next few hours.
Aye…It's great to go back and redo a story that I wrote. Thanks so much for the reviews. Even though I don't expect it to be as popular as it once was. For YGO has seen its better days and its losing popularity. Still, I love it and will continue this until I'm done.
Please, feel free to give ideas and suggestions; I love the usable criticism. Anyways, until next chapter. (I'm always desparate to get reader input into my story too!)