Title: The Black Tattoo
Author: SilverWing147
Part: 4/?
Rating: Yet to be classified
Warning: AU, BL
Pairing: eventual YYxY, YxA, other pairings yet to be realised.
Summary: He didn't know when it came, or where from, but he'd been cursed with a mark on his back. A tattoo of a pyramid with an Egyptian eye, a black tattoo. What some people call a hero, and others a menace, emerges under the name of The Black Raven, and Yuugi's life has never been more complicated.

A/N: I have word! Hazzuh! All rejoice because otherwise this would've been one painfully misspelled chapter. Anyway, from this point onwards we begin to pick up pace, just like sonic when he's running. We start off slow, and then the speed begins to grow.

Chapter 4. Duality

"Hey Bakura! I'm ho-ome!" Ryou sung out, entering the semi-dark entrance way, light sprawling in from the streetlamps outside.

He sighed wearily, dropping down his shoulder bag filled with random assortment of things he'd collected on his way home from work, onto the kitchen bench. He flicked his keys onto the table, the chink of them as they landed nearly deafening in the silence of his house.

He curiously headed to the lounge room. If Bakura was home and he hadn't answered, then he was in a funk of some kind and would more than likely be seated on the couch, lazily sprawled on it, channel surfing with the sound off and muttering to himself every so often. But when he walked in it was empty. There wasn't a thing disturbed from how he'd left it earlier that afternoon.

Bakura hadn't made any plans that he knew of…sighing he headed to the kitchen, wondering where his lover might have gotten off to. Though he knew better than to seriously consider it, eventually he'd come home, and he'd hear him rant about everything that had happened, or Bakura wouldn't say a word about it. One or the other.

Setting to work pulling out the frying pan, he was just about to start chopping carrots when he heard a thud from upstairs. He looked to the ceiling curiously. Maybe Bakura was home and in more of a funk than usual. Although he was still conscious of what other things it could be. Living with Bakura had made him paranoid about being alone in the house, each bump became loud and dangerous, a threatening thud of boots on the floor an intruder on the prowl.

He didn't call out as he came up the stairs, he knew better than that. He'd rather surprise someone than have them surprise him, even if he had already given away that he was here... Bakura had been teaching him whilst making him paranoid.

He slowly neared his and Bakura's room, approaching the doorway cautiously, nudging it open gently with his toes, his eyes peering through the gap. His hand shook slightly, straining his sight to pierce through the gloom. It seemed darker than usual in there.

Finally his eyes made out a figure, slumped face first on the bed. Their hair was sprawled around them in a shambled mess that undoubtedly belonged to Bakura. He watched the gentle rise and fall of the body, indicating the steady breathing of one of Bakura's deeper slumbers. His shoulders were hunched slightly, causing his shoulder blades to protrude slightly before dipping down into the curve of his back in a graceful sweep. His fingers slightly curled into the fabric of the pillow, legs sprawled.

Bakura didn't usually sleep face down, unless he was exhausted, which meant that waking him would be the worst possible idea imaginable. So with as much grace as he could muster, he stealthily left the nudged-open door, and slipped back downstairs, quietly continuing to chop carrots.

Bakura had been acting strange - meaning, stranger than was usual – lately. It was as though there was something pressing down on him, and he was distracted. The last time he'd seen him like this, he was plotting to steal something of quite a valuable nature. But still… this was different. It didn't mesh with in with his usual behaviour. It was still Bakura, undoubtedly, undeniably, infallibly Bakura, nevertheless there was something different in his gaze, steelier than usual as he'd sit glaring at the TV. His words came out slightly smoother, as though the passage had been smothered in rich rum, giving them a warmer quality. He slunk around the house in a quiet fashion. In his own home Bakura was usually as loud as he wanted to be, but lately the only way he was able to detect him was the rasping of his clothes as he walked. The soft sound of a poison asp slipping sideways in the sand.

He shuddered. No, something was bothering his thief, something that he didn't want to talk about because… he sighed.

The only thing this all pointed to, was that… Bakura was afraid of something. And that something was frightening him to watch his noise in his own home without thinking about it. Something that was frightening him to the point where he couldn't sleep; only resting when he finally collapsed into an exhausted rest. Whatever it was that was scaring him… it frightened Ryou too.

He trembled very slightly as he sat in the corner of his bed, hardly noticeable really, but no one could blame him for light shake of his muscles. Today had been a bad day for phone calls. He'd talked to Anzu, who despite a few hints and open ended comments, made no mention of the fact that she had recently been rescued by the infamous Black Raven less than three days ago. Maintaining that nothing much had been happening, life was pretty dull at the moment really. She already had another performance lined up for when the current show she was in ended.

Maybe it was a form of pay back for all the secrets that Yuugi himself kept, but Anzu refused to make any kind of comment on it; which surprised Yuugi. He was sure that she'd painstakingly drag him through the details of their encounter, and how she'd been lifted and flown along the rooftops. But no. Not a word. He'd even left an opportunity for her to confess it when he'd given her the necklace less than two days ago.

This niggled in the back of his mind. She didn't trust him to know? Why would she keep it a secret? There was something not quite right about it. He sighed, running a frustrated hand through his tangled hair, feeling the strands slip easily between his fingers. There had never really been much quite right about their relationship. He questioned his relationship with Anzu, but was determined to keep it.

The other phone call that had made his day complete, was from – surprisingly enough – his mother. She had called, and hammered him with questions. It was the worst call he'd ever received from her. She had pried, wondering what he was doing with his life, where he was going, what he planned. But he had no plans. Survive the curse of the tattoo was as far as what he was planning on doing with his life. But that wasn't a career, that wasn't married to Anzu with children. And why wasn't he taller? His father had been very tall, and if he was going to have Grandpa's hair he should at least get some of his father's height. Mrs Mutou hadn't exactly been short either.

And so she had pointed and pushed at all the deficiencies in his life. Questioning everything and bring each painful scar up to look over with blind eyes. She brought to his attention everything he realised he may not ever have. And it stung and shook him.

He was questioned by his mother about his life, but was determined to fake it. He answered as close to the truth as he could, so he wasn't lying outright. Today hadn't been his day for phone calls. Though he did dearly love his mother, and it was always good to hear from her; it wasn't so good when she started asking questions which became more frequent as he got older.

Turmoil tightened his heart. What should he do? He felt so lost, but he was mostly lost all the time. He grimaced, tightening his hold on a leg, forehead resting on his knees.

He felt Yami stir within him slightly. He'd noticed that he could detect him more than usual recently. Before he'd felt nothing, but now he could sense what Yami was doing. At the moment, when he concentrated he could tell that the supposed malicious spirit was disinterestedly doing nothing but existing comfortably and quietly within him. That was all. He couldn't sense his thoughts, but had a very vague awareness of his feelings. It was oddly comforting at times.

He still found Yami at the end of his bed after a nightmare, but they didn't talk. Yami would look over to him, and smile; as though congratulating him for breaking from the nightmare he was in, reassuring him that the world was still there, and then go back to staring out the window. He would just stare at Yami, and his heart rate would slow back down, and eventually he could sleep again and the dreams wouldn't plague him. It was odd. But staring at Yami helped him break out of the fear of the nightmare, maybe it was that he became curious of what the other was thinking, or why he was out, but that was enough. Perhaps it was simply that the nightmare was nothing but a reflection of reality. Seeing Yami reminded him of his the true reality; the reality that gave him the nightmares.

Easing himself out of the ball he'd hurled himself into, he gently reclined back against the headboard of his bed. One leg eased down, as he began gently unwinding, relaxing. It was easier to see the world this way. He took in a deep breath, letting himself fall still so he could watch the world spin.

He felt a soft nudge against his heart, a gentle tug for attention and an offer of some assistance or comfort, no matter if Yami knew that Yuugi wouldn't accept such things from him. Still he made the gesture; and Yuugi smiled in spite of himself. He was never really ever alone, and sometimes that thought was frightening, sometimes it was comforting. Right now it was a comfort, even if the presence that kept him from ever being alone was a borderline homicidal maniac.

He felt a resonate chuckle. Obviously Yami had heard that thought. He smiled again, his eyes sliding closed, his chest rumbling with a laughter that wasn't his.

"What should I do?" He mumbled.

"Worry not; she doth not deserve a divine creature such as thee." Yami advised.

Yuugi scoffed. 'Divine creature?' he laughed humourlessly, the sound hollow and damp. Creature possibly, divine no. He didn't deserve her.

"Thou deserve more than what one such as her could provide thee. Do not underestimate the importance of thy self." Yami said in a measured drawl, careful to sound impartial.

Yuugi saw through it. "I'm not that important. I'm only important to you, but it's obvious why."

"Thou dost not understand what makes thee so…extraordinary. Thy light, so bright and uninhibited by the stain of grey, has been able to sustain the tattoo. Others born with it died four days after their birth, the shadows sucking the light from them so there was none left to supply them. Thy light hast sustained the shadow and still supplies thyself enough energy to maintain thine own life. Thou hast survived and continue surviving. Thou art no ordinary being" Yami's deeper voice replied, blatantly stating things factually. The last comment coming out softer than anything he'd said earlier. "There are none deserving of such a miraculous being as thou art."

Yuugi almost blushed, almost. He was still suspicious, but the words were flattering and did make some sense. This was the first recorded appearance of the Black Raven in the history he'd found, he was the first to bear the tattoo, but that didn't make him feel privileged. Suddenly there was a violent tug from within his chest, and Yami was forming from vapour before his eyes at the other end of the room.

He slipped from the bed to his feet, eyes focused on Yami. He always made him nervous. His fingers twitched slightly as he eyed Yami becoming more and more solid. Dusks light spilled into the room painting its colours everyone and had at first been dissolving through Yami, but slowly he became more and more solid, his shadow more defined until at last the colour of the dusk was merely splayed against his side, as it splayed against everything else.

Yami's lips turned up at the corners in a devils cake smile. Determined, his clenched fist tightened and he took a step forward, not to be cowed by Yami now he was there in solid form. Yami advanced on him, stepping closer and closer, which made him anxious.

The atmosphere crackled with tension. It wasn't like when he had woken from dreams, it was different. Yami was staring at him with frightening intensity. The room was stiflingly quiet, each sound loud in the hush of sunset. He wasn't even sure if he could trust Yami yet! He was still in a mess about the whole thing, in the middle of a desert without a map or guiding star.

Yami stepped forward. Even from this distance his presence was pushing against him, rubbing against his own presence, friction causing fear. He took a step back.

The grin spread slightly wider. "Why so hesitant bearer? Is thou afraid of the dark?"

"No. Weary of what a thing like you wants." Yuugi replied, fighting the voice in his mind telling him to flee. He could not be weak to this thing, especially considering he was the bearer of the black tattoo. He couldn't allow himself to be walked over by it, otherwise what would happen to him? Possessed forever? Second to his own body?

"Thing, bearer? Why didst thou call me a thing! I am a soul, once of flesh and bone and blood. I am at thy beck and call through the black tattoo, drawn from the realm of spirits at both its and thy will. If our roles were reversed wouldst thou like it terribly to be called 'thing' oh bearer?" Replied the other male, looking affronted.

Yuugi stood and stared at him, he would not take another step backwards (not that he could with his bed there), he wouldn't be moved by him. He couldn't trust him, he shouldn't. Yami had one agenda; his agenda. Yuugi would be foolish to ever believe otherwise, but he couldn't help the sudden increase in heart beat. No… Yami wouldn't hurt him, Yami needed him, needed a body, his body, he wouldn't damage it. However, Yuugi's soul and mind were up for grabs.

He watched silently, Yami staying utterly still. Something about that stillness was more frightening than movement.

Yuugi's breath caught.

Nervous. "How do I know you're not just some creation, or extension of the black tattoo?"

A wickedly sinful smile and the creature stepped forward, almost chest to chest now with Yuugi, staring at him with brightly sparking eyes. "We differ at our cores. For while the black tattoo doth draw light from all around, and harbours it into itself for strength. The curse which has me in the keeping of its old bleak trickery is that I do not draw in light." He said, one hand slipping up to smooth against Yuugi's cheek, moving in closer.

"I am captured by it."

And with that last sentiment, he glided in closer and placed a tender kiss on Yuugi's lips.

His heart should never have been able to beat so hard.

Yami shouldn't have been able to touch him.

He shouldn't have been standing so still.

Yami shouldn't have been able to smile so sinfully as he vanished.

Yuugi shouldn't have been as shaken as he was, his eyes shouldn't have felt as though they were watering, though not with tears, and his teeth shouldn't have clenched when he collapsed back onto his bed. This situation shouldn't have happened. He was mindless as his mind shut down, lips tingling, heart thudding, eyes closed.

This shouldn't have happened in any reality, but it had crashed into his. It wasn't fair, but he didn't have a basis for comparison, so he wouldn't claim it. Exhaustion meant he slept until morning, Yami's smile haunting his mind when he woke.

Yami frowned, gazing at the troubled interior of his host. He'd enjoyed the tumult of feelings that he'd been harassed with upon returning to his container. Yuugi had been ruptured by the kiss, shaken. Yami had enjoyed it. He licked his lips, remembering the lingering sensation of those sinuous lips and the rush of heat that had growled through his long-stopped-beating heart.

He hadn't been able to help himself but sample briefly that light and sweetness. But now… regret nipped its sharp teeth at his heels as he'd fled. Perhaps he'd just jeopardised everything he'd built. Perhaps he'd put too much weight on a fragile foundation. An unfamiliar feeling stirred in his chest.

Fear. Crisp and wet as frosting water.

What if he'd destroyed things now? Because he was unable control himself for five minutes. He'd been foolish. Terribly, terribly, foolish. He felt cold. Not even his container warded away the chill, the chill that spread from deep in his chest.

His world was rocked with his host's uncertainty and newly formed mistrust, confusion and fear. His hand clenched painfully as he rose and paced the four walls of his container, stalking, gliding along the floors, up the walls. He was frustrated with himself, how could he have been so stupid, with what he knew, but that light was so… contaminating, Yuugi's presence intoxicating.

His footsteps stuttered slightly as he drove his fist against the wall of his container, feeling the grey press back against it. What had he done?

He was a fool.

A Jester to the comedy of non-life. When did the penance end, pleasure begin, and life regain balance? This existence was just as a flying trapeze of which he was constantly swinging free from, nearly grasping and failing. Ever unfit, always merely a fool for his own carelessness. Wasn't that how it all began?

He grimaced. That would be how it ends. He a fool, missing the swing with no net capable of saving him from the shadows?

His memories whispered closer to his conscious as his bearer grew stronger. He imagined once Yuugi had full control, understanding and a strong enough will, all of his memories would have returned as he became useless. That was what he had theorised. Once Yuugi no longer need him to control the shadows as they used his body as conduit, he'd no longer be needed… perhaps that was his purpose. Maybe then he'd die, the shadows would leave him and he'd be allowed to rest everlastingly instead of non-existence.

But some of what Yuugi would need to know, he'd have to teach which would involve trust, which he had ruined!

The shadows rasped around his ankles with his agitation, seeking to soothe the angry child, but he would have none of it. He leapt to the ceiling, which quickly became the floor, and stared up at the shadows as they misted along the ceiling, if it was called that.

He collapsed backwards and lay in the gloom. It was the task of light to forgive, he could only wait and see the verdict of the emotions marching through his host. In the din of chaos, the boy would regain himself and Yuugi would find his true feeling, and Yami would be laid waste to its judgement. That's what awaited a failed jester.

The shadows tugged. The tattoo was activating. He was needed. Needed if not wanted.

He'd been attacked. Again. Though this person had also muttered something about his light as well. They possibly worked for the same person as the crazy lady. He knew that Yami would enjoy this, that he enjoyed being released, but… he drew himself together, his conscious wrapping around itself like comforting arms, but… Yami wasn't here the next day.

Yami didn't read about it on the news, about how some kids stumbled on it on their way home from school. He didn't hear about the families of these people, or how their counsellor had said they were starting to get on the right track. He heard nothing about the aftermath, it was all for the moment of flying fists and feathers; where he could release his fury and vengeance upon the world. What did it sow to reap this?

He didn't pay much attention to what happened to his assailant, but noticed, with a small smile - a very small smile - that he'd been spared. Beaten, frightened, and badly bruised, but he still had his life. He could still go home to that family; maybe what he'd been saying had gotten through to the…spirit.

His control was returned, and his knees were slightly weakened. He'd used magic tonight, more than usual.

"The pool grows ever shallower bearer." Yami whispered passed his mind. "But there are still fish to catch."

He wasn't sure if he was glad that Yami pretended as though nothing had happened. He was also slightly angry as well. That he could waltz in and interfere, to do something as simple and complex as to kiss him! Especially when he wasn't sure whether or not he was going to trust him. He couldn't find it in him to discount the idea entirely, but logic screamed at him that Yami had a label twice his size reading "Bad News".

He clenched his hands into fists, standing straight before slowly beginning to move towards home careful of his trembling legs. He couldn't deal with this right now, but when could he ever? That kiss was plaguing his mind, worse than one of those colds you just can't seem to shake. Just when he'd finally think that he'd thought about it all he can, that he wouldn't think about it anymore, it'd lash his mind again, and no matter how he thought about it he couldn't reach a decision about how exactly he should feel about having his lips violated by a person who doesn't technically exist, and doesn't technically have a body, and isn't technically living. He wanted to trust, something told him to trust, but against that instinct his mind begged him not to do something so foolish, Yami wasn't just some self-hating bully, or egotistical billionaire; he was a spirit within his body unleashing shadows on people.

Yami must've felt his turmoil or heard his thoughts – he wasn't exactly sure how that system worked – but in the next instant he felt a mind brush against his hesitantly. It was a peculiar feeling, but he was slowly growing used to such feelings and odd sensation; so soft in contrast to the violence the being behind it unleashed. The intimate whisper, like air trailing across water, sending gently undulating ripples along his senses; a calming coolness and comforting warmth all at once. But why did Yami have to kiss him? Weren't things sort of getting better?

"I… I apologise bearer. Forgive a Jester his comedy."

And did one apology make everything all right?

Patience wasn't something that Bakura particularly had in aces. He didn't have five of them hidden up his sleeves when it came to waiting for something to happen, which was exactly what he was doing. Though really he should be more patient, Ryou was curled up around his side, his head resting on his chest as he dozed. He had started a slow cooking stew, which was still bubbling away downstairs, and then quietly slunk into the room and curled up against his side. It wasn't the first time.

He'd been waiting for something to happen for almost a week now, he wasn't quite sure what but his body knew it. There was something not right, something was going to happen, and there was that tingling in the back of his mind. Like cursive script was being written on the inside of his skull with a paintbrush. It set him on edge; something he knew hadn't escaped his lover who was far more observant and intelligent than most people gave him credit for.

He ran his fingers through the thick white strands of Ryou's hair, feeling warm breath sigh over his skin and a hand curl slightly more around his shoulder. He'd wake up soon and panic that he'd slept too long and his food was going to burn because Bakura knew nothing about cooking and wouldn't notice if the house was burning down, or he'd notice but not care. A smile ghosted his lips.

The smile soon left, this thing that was coming… he just hoped that Ryou was okay. He worried about him whenever he made a new enemy. His greatest weakness, his most prized possession, and anyone who should steal his Ryou was going to meet a painful end.

His fingers still tangled he drifted away into sleep, he was always exhausted; ever since he'd seen Yuugi… there was something wrong. Something… wrong.

He stood calmly amongst the clamouring crowd as they all frantically scrambled away from the square. His white hair fluttered briefly as his eyes followed a retreating figure along the skies, wings so dark they reflected no light. The papers called him the Black Raven, heralded him as a hero sometimes, but other times they regarded him with the same distaste they did the criminals that roamed the streets. He wasn't completely a good guy, but he did his share of good things, not that it mattered; he knew what he really was.
A dream…. What was… that feeling in his chest, his mind was dizzy.
"Murdering bastard." He growled.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw an auburn haired girl staring wistfully into the sky after him, hands clutched before her chest. Her skirt whipped in the wind, slim arms firmly plastered to her sleek frame. She wore a pink sweater and her blue eyes revealed her absolute captivation with the mysterious figure.

What a fool.

Something was wrong!

He sat bolt upright. Ryou was gone but he hadn't woken up. There was no sound in the house, he must've gone out… but something was wrong. He leapt out of bed, sock skidding on the carpet. Ryou's jacket was still there, as well as his shoes. The scent of burning assaulted his nose and he dashed into the kitchen, spotting smoke rising from the stew pot. He sprung forward turning off the heat.

Ryou would never let food burn.

His heart thudded. Where was Ryou!? He swore and without hesitation tore through the house, finding no sign of his white haired partner. He picked up the phone, quickly dialling the number to Ryou's mobile.

"Come on Ryou; pick up the god forsaken phone! Tell me where you are!" He growled.

Briip ba da baa da da duuum breee –

He turned, finding the source of the sound. Ryou's white mobile was sitting on the lamp stand… he never left the house without it. No… this was wrong. This was very wrong. What was going on?!

"Ryou!" He called. "Ryou!"

He looked around wildly, panic gripping his chest. "Ryou!"

Nowhere. No one replied. He grabbed his jacket, jammed his feet into his boots, and never bothered flicking off the lights as he stormed out of the house. "Ryou! Where the fuck are you! Answer me or so help me I'll… I'll… Ryou!"

No reply. There were marks where the leaves on their lawn had been disturbed significantly. Someone had taken him and he'd slept through it! There's no way. His body froze… he couldn't have slept through Ryou being taken from the house, but he wouldn't have left it without his shoes! He was gone.

Someone would pay.

Basically this chapter was just a set-up for everything that follows. Please hit the review button, it's encouragement to type faster than I do. Cheers