Hey, folks. Long overdue, I know...if anyone out there hasn't given up on me updating. I just wanted to finsih writing the whole story before I uploaded...but I started writing this other fic adn got HOOKED. .;;;;

I'm writing this fic that takes place in this make belive world that has forgotten about the Holocaust...so it happens again. Ryou is bought by Bakura, who is like a modern day Erik. Smexy. But I probably won't write for a while since finals are so near...and WE'RE EFFING GOING TO NEW YORK TO SEE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA LIVE!!!!!! -squeal-

Ha...

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Bakura

I held Ryou's too-thin body in my arms and breathed in the scent of his shampoo. I loved the way he felt, cuddled by me, and I stroked his pretty white locks absentmindedly.

The Sennen Ring glowed.

A reflex jumped in and I found myself pushing the thing off Ryou's nightstand, making a loud clanging yell. Ryou's eyelashes fluttered open. He made a questioning sound in his throat.

"It's nothing…" I mumbled, well practiced at deceit. "Go back to sleep." My obedient, trusting hikari shut his eyes once more. I sighed in my relief.

It had been happening too often. Ryou knew nothing of it; he was too human to feel the voice of the Sennen Ring. The gold artifact was made of fate and it called to me.

It wanted for me to follow the Pharaoh, now that he knew his destiny. For the darkness to leave the light once they had learned enough from each other... even when dark and light had twisted around each other so tightly that the slightest movement would warp them both forever...

Fate wanted this. Her ivory fingers tap impatiently against the surface of the world; she sighs and rolls her bloody eyes. The Sennen Items are her messengers, the voices of Kuru Eruna drifting from them.

I hate her.

She, who threw my sister into that molten pot of death, smirking in amusement and shredding my world into insignificant paper bits with her long, black fingernails in that dazzling moment of panic. She who killed my sister, and who seems to be having a love affair with me.

Again and again she's sent me twirling through her dark labyrinth, laughing as I am ripped apart, naked and bleeding.

I want to betray her violently and make her cry.

I want to stay with Ryou and ignore the hauntings of my sister's soft crying. I want to do it so badly. More than I wanted to live.

But I can't.

I can only listen to my sister's voice.

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Ryou

Bakura smells so good.

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Bakura

"Snow White was a princess who was made beautiful by her mother's death. She suffered again and again at the hands of an evil witch stepmother."

I read to Ryou from an old fairytale book. It had been Amane's dearest treasure and had wilted petals as its pages. The smell of a loved toy hung from the words in smeared glitter and dog-eared pages.

Ryou leaned against me as we sat on the couch, a box of memories printed on photo paper beginning to slide off his lap. An odd sensation crawled up my spine with cold fingers as he laid his head on my shoulder. I wrapped an arm around him and felt the round, boney pearls of his vertebrate.

He would die if I left him, wouldn't he?

My finger traced the point of a joint, sharpened by worry and paranoia. Dark nights were still etched upon Ryou's ivory skin and I didn't dare remind him of them. His mind clung to mine and it felt as if only the things which I spoke of existed for him.

"Snow White ran away one night, trying to escape all the sadness in her life. She was lost in a dark maze of trees when she saw a cute little house in the distance."

Ryou stretched out an arm and the page whooshed when he flipped it, revealing another mess of words, decorated by ink-drawn leaves and scribbled flowers. I cleared my throat.

"She cleaned and dusted the house with all the animals and when the seven dwarves who lived in the house came home, they gladly welcomed her to live with them."

The drawing of this wrinkled page of the book was of a watercolor cottage with dripping walls and blotted flowers. Snow White's eyes were far too large to be human and exaggerated beauty stretched her every proportion.

"The evil witch turned to her magical mirror one day with her head held up high and asked, quite vainly, 'Mirror, mirror on the wall; who's the prettiest of them all?' The honest mirror answered, 'Snow White, of course,' and the evil witch shrieked with jealousy."

I allowed my hand to trail up Ryou's back to the soft, white tresses which hung like silk. I ran my hand through it and felt Ryou relax into me, getting to know my touch. I twirled a lock with my finger.

'The prettiest of them all?' I mused to myself. I smiled.

My hikari.

Then I realized that I had fallen in love with him.

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Ryou

Bakura's voice was guiding me through the familiar story of Snow White and I felt myself lose my way in the world of memorized words, clinging and being carried by his voice. His hand petted my hair and it spoke to me with a voice of its own, whispering and murmuring comforting words.

Bakura hadn't touched me too much, save for small kisses and hugs. I think he's still guilty because of our last time that night. I trusted him enough now, though, to let him touch me again, though he didn't know.

"The stepmother decided to cleverly disguise herself as an old woman, coming to sell combs so to buy food for a imaginary, starving family. She came to Snow White's home with the dwarves to kill her."

The familiar paints danced on the wilted wings of the pages and watercolors stained beautiful designs on the pages. A star scratched in black ink by a child's hand hovered by the head of the chimney of the cottage.

I existed in a fairytale world like this one. Bakura painted my world for me and I did not need to worry. He chiseled at my world until it was just the way he wanted it and I didn't complain. I didn't want to.

I ate when he told me to. Slept at the appointed time. He commanded me and I only had to obey.

It was so much easier this way.

"The evil witch's wrenched plan failed when the twelve dwarves came home and saved the princess from the terrible poison in the comb. They gathered around the princess, caring for her until she was well again."

Bakura had a power over me which reduced me to a slavish obedience and it…seemed to frighten him. He treated me as if I were a porcelain doll that needed to be talked to with gentle words and loving caresses to keep its pieces from breaking apart and shattering…from crying.

Like that glass angel.

Maybe seeing the pieces of the angel shatter that one cruel day did something to him. Bakura was…cautious. It wasn't like him…and the change scared me. I do not like change. He used to treat life as a game piece; something to spend, barter with for something far greater.

I guess he never cared for his own. He broke it to avenge his family.

In exchange, he received an eternity of time. Never ending turns of the clock that failed to satisfy.

Was he satisfied now? Was he satisfied with me?

"The witch tried to kill Snow White again. She used a different disguise and drove a dagger into her. When the dwarves came home, they found the princess lying on the ground, barely breathing. But with care, they saved the beautiful girl and she was back on her feet again in just a few days."

A few blurry images of memories rose through my brain sometimes. But then I would remember my father and I would know not to think anymore. I wanted to remember my mother too, though. And Amane. She was important.

And in the middle of the night, phantom pains overwhelmed me. They didn't exist, though, and I didn't need to go to the hospital. I only needed Bakura's sculpting hands to fix it…to make the pain go away.

I'm beginning to believe that I'm in love, I think. If Bakura left me, I would die.

"The evil witch did not give up, though. A third time she knocked on Snow White's door and showed off a poisonous apple from the same tree which tempted Eve. The princess bit into the sweet flesh of the fruit and instantly fell onto the floor, dead."

Bakura's voice wrapped around my mind and turned it back to the story of the dead princess made alive. Only beauty survived in this make-believe world of pretend. I want to live in this world where emotions don't exist and miracles do happen.

"The princess was put in a glass box and the dwarves mourned her death. But just when they were about to lay her under the layers of earth they had lifted, a beautiful prince saw her and instantly fell in love. The prince kissed Snow White's dead lips and the spell of love drew out the ugly poison the witch had planted in her. The princess opened her eyes and saw the handsome prince with her revived eyes and fell in love."

I wondered what it would be like to be the princess, falling in love with her savior. A romantic tale. I snuggled closer to Bakura.

He felt really nice, his body against mine. His intensity scared me but his hands were always comforting. Nice. They reminded me of Amane, though I didn't really know her either. His kisses breathed and laughed like my sister.

I was scared of him, though. Because he was also my father. And I can't remember my father's face.

"The prince and the princess got married the very next day and both went to live in the prince's marble-carved castle with grand pillars and white horses."

My father had no face. And in dreams, it was Bakura I saw.

I live in a fairytale illusion.

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Yeah...I have another chapter I'll post after i find my review of people yelling at em for being so darn late. .;; I do have a lot fo ym OTHER fic written though...

Oh yes! Three million cheers for Shiro Ryuu for being so kind as to edit this for me!! I know nto many who can put up with ym lack of update. EVERYONE GO READ HER FICS!! AND REVIEW!! XD

Does anyone who understands electron configuration want to help me? XD Joking.