Pairing: Bakura/Ryou (Tendershipping)
Summary: Ryou dwells on death, and Bakura makes an offer.
Warnings: Blood, mentions of death.
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh or anything mentioned in this story.
Comments: It's written in a sort of fragmented style, I suppose, and it's on purpose. I know it ends abruptly, but that was also intentional -- I wanted to leave it open-ended. Beware of all the little hints in Bakura's behaviour and dialogue.
There was blood and metal everywhere. People were screaming; there were excited and scared voices all around, but they were muffled and unclear. He was hot; there was fire, somewhere, probably nearby, but he couldn't move, couldn't leave her.
"Amane… wake up!" He shook her hard, praying desperately that she would move or tell him to stop hurting her. He was soaked, too; tears were streaming down his face, and he was covered in blood, but whose it was he didn't know. He shook her again with more desperation and leaned over her, sobbing and trembling and screaming for her to just open her eyes.
Then there was a soft, gentle touch on his shoulder. "Shh. Don't cry, landlord. Wake up."
---xxx---
Ryou's eyes opened. He was in his room, on his bed, with the sheets tangled around his body so tightly that he could barely move. It took him a moment to figure out how to get out of there, and when he did, he got up slowly and dressed quietly, as usual, as if he had slept peacefully the whole night.
"You've been dreaming about them a lot lately."
Ryou looked up, almost surprised to hear the voice. The spirit of the Ring had not bothered him lately; it was almost as if he'd been sleeping for a whole week. He hadn't – Ryou could feel the conscious presence of someone else in the back of his mind – but there was nobody trying to take over his body or make him do things that may cause harm to people, himself included. It had been sort of nice, if not a little bit lonely.
"It's the anniversary of their death today," he explained to the ghost. "I'm going to visit their graves later, if you must know."
"Mm."
Ryou sighed and looked away. "What about you?" he asked. "You've been quiet lately. I'm starting to worry." He saw Bakura's translucent form shrugging out of the corner of his eye.
"I've been thinking, if you must know," he said simply. "There was nothing to say."
"Ah."
The conversation had dropped, and the rest of the morning continued in silence. Ryou cooked, ate, did everything he would normally do, and not once did either of them speak to each other. Bakura, however, had been staring at his host the entire time. The dark intensity of his gaze was unnerving, but it wasn't something that Ryou couldn't ignore.
---xxx---
He bought flowers: white lilies for his mother, and some assorted pink flowers for Amane. "Their favourite," he whispered, to justify himself to the spirit, who had simply stayed quiet in response – he'd heard this before, dozens of times. Whenever Ryou would buy flowers to take to the cemetery, he would always say this as if he were making some sort of excuse for his choices.
The walk to the cemetery was silent until they reached the graves of Amane and her mother. Ryou placed the flowers before each headstone (and a letter before his sister's) and knelt, silently praying. It only took a few minutes for him to finish, but he remained kneeling for a moment longer, fiddling with the flower petals to try and make them look brighter or more beautiful.
"Why do you pray?" Bakura asked. The noise was so sudden and unexpected that Ryou had jumped. He looked up at the spirit, who was looking away from him. He sighed.
"I don't know." The response was automatic. "I guess I just feel better when I do. As if Mother and Amane are together, and happy, and they can hear me when I speak to them."
Bakura scoffed. "You don't know that. Where do you think they are, then?"
"I don't know. Where do people go when they die?"
"How should I know?" Bakura snapped. "I never really died, did I?"
"…No. No, I suppose not." Ryou stood up.
"Are you going to answer the question?"
Ryou thought for a moment. "…Heaven," he said finally. "I like to think they're in Heaven."
"I see." Bakura smiled at Ryou – it was the kind of expression that usually meant something unpleasant was going to happen. "Being immortal has its advantages, landlord," he said. "For example, I don't have to worry about where I'll go when I die."
Ryou didn't respond; he simply ignored the question and began to walk away. Bakura laughed, and followed a few pace.
"You could be immortal too."
Ryou froze.
"It'll be easy," the spirit continued. "All you have to do is ask."
"I don't want it," Ryou said finally, quietly. His voice was so quiet that it was nearly impossible to hear him. He began walking again.
"No?" Bakura asked. "But landlord, the grave is such a loely place."
The boy spun around to glare at his tenant. "What do you mean?"
"Death is a very solitary thing," Bakura replied. "At least in your case it will be."
There was silence. Ryou noticed, vaguely, that he was shaking, but ignored it as Bakura elaborated: "You think your mother and sister went to Heaven – but where will you go? Surely not to them – only good, innocent people go to Heaven, right? And that certainly doesn't sound like you." There was a strong laugh to accent those words, and moments later it had calmed and there was a soft touch to Ryou's face. Bakura was caressing him and smiling against his neck. "What do you think, landlord?"
"I still don't want it."
"You're scared. I can feel it."
"No –"
"Shh," Bakura soothed. "Stop shaking."
The boy took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. Calmly, he lifted Bakura's hands up and away from himself, and looked the spirit in the eyes. "I'm not you," he whispered. "If I'm denied anything because of you, then so be it."
Bakura looked pleased with himself. "Look at you, playing the martyr." He laughed. "You should really stop that: it doesn't suit you. You're selfish and afraid."
"Stop."
"Angry, too." The spirit touched his hand. "But you don't have to be denied anything. All you have to do is ask." He laughed again, and then he was gone.
---xxx---
That night, Ryou dreamed he died.
In his dream, Ryou was soaked through in blood, his own this time, oozing out of him far too quickly and far too easily. There was nothing around him but darkness. Ryou screamed, but he had no voice. There was no Ring, either; in his panic, he had reached for it, but it was nowhere to be found. He could feel himself getting weaker and weaker and soon he had fallen to the ground, hugging his knees to his bleeding chest.
He spent the rest of the night curled up, sobbing in silence.
---xxx---
"You haven't been sleeping well."
Bakura was beside Ryou, facing him and stroking his hair as if he were concerned. "Please, tell me what's been troubling you, landlord."
"Don't you know?" Ryou asked weakly. He didn't turn to look at his tenant, but continued to stare straight ahead of himself.
"No. I don't like looking at your dreams," Bakura replied. "They're far too similar to my own."
"Do you ever dream about dying?"
The spirit grinned. "No."
"Mm." Ryou sighed. "I do."
"you don't have to," Bakura whispered. He was close to Ryou's ear now, so close that the boy could feel the spirit's lips against it.
"I know." He stood up and walked away, leaving a very satisfied ghost behind.
---xxx---
The dreams continued, and gradually became worse: sometimes, he watched himself die. Sometimes he drowned, others he burned, others he was stabbed or shot or poisoned; and every time he went to the same place, the same pit of darkness and isolation he'd visited in his first dream.
Sometimes he would hear a voice or see someone. He couldn't talk or reach them, whoever it may have been. Occasinally it was Yuugi or Anzu that he saw in his dreams, but it was usually Amane or his mother laughing and holding their arms out to him. They all left, eventually, smiling and laughing as their images faded to nothing in the surrounding darkness. He desperately wanted to go with them, to get out of this horrid place, but he found that he couldn't move.
One night, Bakura appeared.
Ryou had been on the ground, shivering and bleeding (he had been stabbed in this dream), when there had suddenly been a small noise. First it was the jingling of metal, then slow, quiet footsteps that grew louder with every passing second. Ryou looked up, and in the distance he could see a glint of gold and a pale figure walking towards him.
Then Bakura was in front of him, holding the Millenium Ring like an offering. He was smirking, and Ryou bowed his head, allowing the spirit to drape it over his neck.
"You're a mess, landlord," He laughed and lifted his hand to caress the boy's face. "We can't have that anymore, can we?"
Ryou didn't speak, and shook his head sadly in lieu of an answer. He knew he wouldn't have a voice. He felt his face being lifted and someone's lips against his own. I don't want to be here, his mind screamed. Bakura pulled away just barely enough to whisper against Ryou's lips, "I know. You don't have to be."
He was over the boy now, kissing his wounds and cleaning the blood away gently, as if Ryou would break if he applied too much pressure. Ryou cried out in silence, and then suddenly it was all over: he was clean and warm and not alone.
"Don't cry, landlord," the spirit said, leaning in to lick away a small trail of tears from the boy's face. "Stay with me," he hissed. "Forever. I'll make these dreams stop. You'll never have to be alone again…" He kissed Ryou again, deeply and slowly and sensually, pulling away at the last possible second to stand up and offer the boy his hand.
"Wake up."
Ryou gasped.
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