Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! or Vampire Hunter D.
I may or may not be trying to make up for the fact that you all waited a little over a year for a chapter :|
Warning: If something in this chapter makes you go "What? How is that possible?" or "That's not logical because..." good. Very good. Because it is going to be important that you remember it. Oh, and I have been trying to map out the way that they are walking, so if you are curious and follow some of the directions...you might be able to take the trip with them by looking at maps! :D
I want to thank everyone again...those who have patiently waited for these chapters, those who have just begun...I want to thank you for your perseverance and having taken this journey with me. Don't be afraid to talk with me regarding the story, any questions or concerns, or maybe even if you think someone is getting a little ooc...I am always happy to discuss this story with you all. And I promise, I'll usually be able to give you answers for it!
Now sit back, try not to relax too much because things are going to start happening again, and enjoy!
Chapter Twenty Two: On the Road East
October 12, 2003 (I think)
If I continue to do this, then I will have no pages left, and I will be lugging around childish problems instead of important things; like the things Bakura-sama meant when he gave this to me. Yet part of me cannot help this. Why else did people write in journals and such in the past other than to clear their minds or remember something important?
I've had no dreams since the ship. That's a lie, I've had dreams, but they are nothing of that type. I feel that it is extremely important that I remember these dreams. Something about them seem to pertain to Bakura-sama in some way but I am not sure how. All I know is that there is a monster there (far more frightening than the thing that attacked Andy and I), and the person…or thing…it calls "the darkness". I must also remember that these dreams are not quite dreams at all, and that staying too long in them may trigger something horrible. What I do not know, but I can't say I wish to either. The "dreams" have their appeal, though; when I went I always had the feeling that I was not supposed to be there, or even know of there.
Bakura is asleep at the moment. We found an empty gas station to rest in for the night. It looks like someone knew of its existence as there is not much left other than a few…lady products…and one very molded over doughnut. Oh, they had pens! So now I have pens that I can choose from to write in here. Right now I'm writing in purple.
Not that it matters to anyone else who may see this, considering they can very well see it plain before them, but it matters to me. The parasite that resides in my hand is now laughing at me quietly again. Little does he know my previous threats to chop him off are still up for discussion. Oh good, he stopped. I like this.
We have been traveling on our own for two days now. Yesterday was horrible for Bakura-sama. The climb that Mr. Ellis had told him about was worse than either of us could have imagined. I'm surprised that they allowed cars to go down such a slope. It was horrible for me as well, but mostly for it being my fault for leaving. While whatever it was' blood left me nauseated for that day, today I felt better. Poor Bakura-sama looked as if he were about to keel over thirty minutes out this morning. He had refused to stop all of yesterday unless it was something I needed to do. So I lied, a lot, towards the end there. I felt awful. I feel awful. Andy's sister really looked like she liked him, but I couldn't tell if Bakura-sama felt the same. He always gives off this awkward feeling when he speaks to most girls his age, I've noticed. I wonder why? I hope it's not because of that one incident when we were back in Domino; I want him to be happy. I think if he could find someone like him to love him, he'd be much happier. Then again, he says he's happy with me, and that's fine too. If that's the case, I hope we never meet anyone else ever again. That way Bakura-sama won't feel awkward, no one will hate me or him for anything, and if I do something foolish I don't put anyone else in danger. Well, Bakura-sama probably would stop me before I did it.
I am just afraid. What if I begin feeling the way I did toward Andy, like he was something I should eat instead of someone I should get along with, toward Bakura-sama? What if I could not stop myself the next time? What if I killed him? What if I turned him? I have wanted to discuss this with him, but I could not find a good time today. He just seemed like he wanted to be silent, perhaps just to concentrate on his breathing, so I remained silent as well. I don't want to wake him up tonight either. It is obvious he's exhausted, and has not yet recovered from staying up for 48 hours. I hope he sleeps in. I'm finding it a little difficult to sleep at night right now.
Ew. I smell something bad. Hang on.
Oh, it was a skunk.
October 13, 2003 (I think…again)
Bakura-sama had intended to go north, remembering from when he went to school that there was a desert south in California, and that would be an awful place to be if one were walking across it, especially when we are low on water. Funny enough, we have a decent amount of food. Not that I eat it, but that is not the point I am trying to make.
We found out today that we can't go north.
There was a traveler coming the opposite way this afternoon. At first Bakura-sama and I were suspicious, but the traveler actually ignored us, passed us, and continued to walk away. Bakura-sama actually had to stop him. He looked…bad. He smelled bad. The smell actually reminded me of the smell that that thing gave off, and I nearly puked. The man was nearly bald, and he jittered a little when Bakura-sama touched him. I smelled something awful and realized that he had soiled his pants. I am certain Bakura-sama smelled it as well. However, I doubt he smelled the other thing I noticed. I smelled blood in it.
The man shrugged Bakura off, and did not seem to care much for his apology, but he did agree to have lunch with us. At first I was very uncomfortable; we did not know this man, and it was not as if he cleaned himself before he sat down to eat with us. It seemed Bakura had an ulterior motive though, as he began to ask many questions about where the man had been and where he was going. He made it sound like small talk, but I finally understood. He was looking for directions.
I don't think I will ever forget that moment, even if I live a thousand years. He made Bakura-sama and I look as if we were dressed in our best (which was a feat in itself considering we are both disgustingly unclean), his shirt was a dirt-grey mess and his jeans were obviously overused. His hair, what was left of it, was a matted brown. He stared at the two of us with eyes that had no hope, but determination regardless as he told us about what we would find north. Past a place called Pacifica or Union City, we would only find death. The man gagged down the food we offered and continued by saying that he had come with a group of twenty people from an even more northern city. He said that there were certain places up north that were safe, but in order to get there one would have to pass through the area he just came through. When asked what it was and why he passed through it anyway the man frowned. Family. It came down to family that he had wanted to see…to see if they made it. He had finally gotten the courage to go; a group of people were already deciding to leave, in fear that the nearby radiation would affect them, and they were going to be heading in the same direction. Certainly it would not have gotten inland that far.
He told us if we were to continue north we would find the bodies of his comrades strewn about the road. The earlier ones who died received burials, as no one was certain as to why it was happening. Certainly it wasn't radiation. The latter ones were left where they had fallen; no one else wanted to risk any more exposure. Certainly they were past the worst of it.
His tale only became worse when he began telling us of his own decline, and why he pushed forward. He had a brother, one that he had not gotten along with for quite some time, and he had wanted to see if they were alive, so they could make amends. He was under the impression that there should have been no more animosity between them because as he put it "the goddamned world pretty much ended didn't it?" I could tell Bakura-sama was saddened by this, but he continued to listen, now less interested in knowing where to go I think, and more of giving this man some sort of comfort. Apparently this brother of his had a wife and daughter, and they lived in a place called Stevenson. He marked it on our map to give us an idea. He told us if he made it there, if he survived this, he would take them somewhere safer. The radiation was too high in this state, too many places were said to have been hit. They had to make their way east.
Bakura-sama nodded, but I remember nearly crushing my drinking cup (so as not to arouse suspicion I had very small portion to eat and drink). I was going to remind Bakura-sama about what he had said, but remembered that he really had no recollection of it the last time I had mentioned it. Knowing I might cause him some discomfort I remained silent.
He drew us a little squiggly line on the path he intended to take, which ended in Nevada. I remember he laughed, a rusty and pained sound, and said he wasn't sure why he was drawing it out for us. I remember he told us his name was Thomas Ackermann. I remember I actually liked him by the time I rested my head against Bakura-sama's lap, my eyes heavy with sleep.
When I woke, the sun was setting. Bakura-sama was looking at it with an odd expression. And Thomas was dead.
We buried him and then Bakura-sama fell asleep. I started writing.
There was no use denying it any longer, Bakura realized as he looked at the map and then looked at the road before him, a road that still had the faint smell of smog and burnt rubber. The asphalt was baking his shoes and the dry brush rustled at either side, reminding him of how ridiculously hot it felt. D was at his side, attempting to hide how miserable he felt and failing. His hand however, apparently had grown very opinionated in the absence of other people and was happy to express how displeased it was with the current situation.
"All of this for a dead guy and a bunch of people who are probably also dead," it snorted, and Bakura could not help but imagine himself taking one of the knives out of his bag and stabbing at the parasite again and again. He refrained from doing so for only one reason: it was a part of D's hand.
"We would probably have to go this way anyway, unless you want to pass through all of that radiation," he snapped back, in no mood for the thing's attitude. They were running out of water (again) and it did not look like there was another town for miles (again). They had no tent, as he had been unable to find one in the last close by city, and with his luck, tonight their food would be stolen by some wild dog. He could hear some yipping and howling in the distance. To his left he saw a few ground squirrels hiding under a rock. Even they seemed miserable in the oppressive heat. "We need to stop," he added in frustration, knowing that continuing at this pace would do them no good.
"I can go a little further," D said, his voice barely above a whisper. Bakura was grateful for the hat that Matt had given the boy. After they had left the coast a sweltering heat had consumed the air around them and the sun had been merciless as it made its way across the sky. He doubted D would have been able to stand at this point had he not been wearing his now much cherished headpiece.
"No, we aren't going any further today," Bakura said, walking onto the gravel that made for an emergency stop for cars. Thankfully it seemed that they were headed into a sparsely wooded area, which was far better than the wide open farmland they had passed earlier, their crops withered and dead for years, some still decaying their way back into the ground.
"But—"
"No buts; I'll be fine," he said, again wishing for something more sheltering. "You won't if we keep going on this way."
The boy frowned but complied, wandering over to a nearby Valley oak tree and sat beneath one of its twisted branches trying to get comfortable in the pathetic amount of shade. Bakura looked after him with a great sadness. It did not have to be sweltering hot for him to know that D was suffering under this unforgiving sun, but his discomfort reminded him that D had it worse, and it made the man want to cry. His eyes remained dry, however, knowing he had to focus on a way to get them to decent shelter, preferably one with water.
It was obvious that the first thing was that they would have to change their sleeping patterns, at least for a time. The nights could be warm, but without the sun it was more bearable. D would also be more comfortable. The problem with that was that Bakura could not see very well at night with only a small flashlight that had a dying battery in it, and there were possibly predators that they had no knowledge of that could be prowling in the dark. That was the one thing that had held him back from going through with it a few days ago. Now, seeing that the heat was not going to let up any time soon, and D's condition was not going to change, Bakura had no choice but to put his faith in that whatever predators had been here years and years ago had been killed off by humans. It was a horrible thing to hope for, but he would have rather it been that than accidentally shooting D for mistaking him for something more sinister.
A darker shade of brown darted into his vision. Bakura watched as a deer scampered across the highway, its fawn close behind. He wondered if they were heading toward water. He wondered where their water source was. He wondered if the road marked on the map really was as long and ridiculously winding as it looked. Sighing, he shook his head in defeat. It probably was. Staring down the road that split a hill in half, he wished for a car that would drive. It was impossible, but he still wished for it.
"Gotta love the 'Do not Pass' signs," he muttered to himself. "You think they're trying to tell me something, Amane-chan? Like, turn around? Beyond lies Death?" He laughed, and the sound was dark.
"Bakura-sama?" D called and Bakura forced his face to lighten as he turned to face the boy. How was it that he looked so pale? Bakura would have thought it impossible before, but then again, before all of this he had always managed to find some sort of blood for the boy, and never had they been under such a sun.
"D-kun, are you okay?"
The boy frowned, but the corners of his lips twitched in good humor. "Yep," he muttered as the man sat beside him. "Just relaxing and 'soaking up some Vitamin D'…I thought I could do with a tan." Bakura gave him a half-hearted smile and the boy shifted to where only his eyes were not covered by the pea coat. Bakura would have been sweating like mad, but it seemed to be doing the boy some good. "This is the only way we know we can go?"
"Yes," Bakura replied, picking up a bent twig from the ground. He bent it one way, then the next. "There are roads back where we came but it's this way or south…where I am going to assume it will be hotter."
"Hmph…"
The young man bent the twig harder this time. "Take a nap," he said, looking back the way they had come. "We'll be walking tonight."
The boy's eyes widened. "That doesn't seem like a good idea."
"No, for me it doesn't," the man replied, "but I'm more worried about you. Anyway, if we don't stray from the road, I'll be fine. It's not like anyone is going to be around. The past two cities were either empty or they weren't interested in speaking with us."
The boy gave him a skeptical look. Bakura motioned for him to grab his sleeping bag, to which the boy shook his head, reached up to tilt his hat down to cover his eyes and re-situated himself against the tree. "I'm comfortable like this, and if it's a nap, I don't want to waste time having to roll up the sleeping bag again," D cut in as Bakura was about to protest, leaving the man to only nod at the boy who now looked as if he were asleep already.
The man sighed, seating himself on the opposite side of the tree so as not to bother the sleeping child. He stared at the twig in his hand and then proceeded to dig a hole and place it sticking up. Noting the shadow, he chuckled to himself. What good would telling the time be if he did not know how to tell the time in this way? Resting against the trunk he closed his eyes, telling himself he must remember to ask D if he could read it. Still on this thought, the young man did not realize his slip into slumber.
The awesome display of nothing on black greeted D as he stepped through the changing doorway into the inconsistent plane. It seemed different somehow. The tinge of fear and suffering in the air had not changed, nor had the freezing feeling that crept over his skin. Yet it was less menacing than before.
"Isn't it day?" He asked himself, knowing he had not brought along company. The last dream had proven that.
The darkness swirled around him still as he walked further onward, seeming to have purpose in this purposeless land. It was eerily lonely now however, without the fear of that beast, for the boy was certain the creature he spoke to had some relation to it. He was just unsure of how.
Pondering on what he was looking for the boy searched on and on, knowing that this dream was meant for finding. His fears diminished due to the light that awaited him when he was to open his eyes, but not gone. He wandered the forming room intent on finding this thing. 'What will it be this time?' he wondered. Would it be "the darkness" again, or would it be something different?
The questions continued to pile as he found a route that sent him downward on almost invisible steps that spun around a wispy column. If he tripped, he knew he would die, but he was surefooted the whole way. At the bottom his feet rested on an obsidian floor that caught a distant light before him and shimmered like a solid ocean. He could smell smoke, and metal. Feeling he was near he began to run, his footfalls sounding like tapping on a glass. He could not hide his arrival here.
At the end of the massive hall he came to a wall with a single mirror that held a torch just above it. At first he could not see himself in it, but slowly he began to materialize, as if it were a Polaroid picture before him and not a piece of glass. Yet as soon as he was fully visible his reflection disappeared and in its place were a pane of glass the color of the floor beneath him and the silhouette of a young boy with one feature visible: faded purple eyes. The same eyes that had belonged to the teenager that the being had called "the darkness". How it was possible for him to see that and yet nothing else perplexed D.
"Who are you?" The child from the other side of the mirror asked. The eyes did not look sorrowful at all, but inquisitive.
"I'm D," he replied, feeling it was only fair to answer, "Who are you?"
The child frowned. "I can't hear you," it said.
"I'm D," he stated a little louder, "Who are you?"
"Who are you?"
D sighed, exasperated. "I just said my name is D. That is who I am. D."
"Wait, don't leave!"
D looked at the silhouette of the boy as if he were mad. "I'm not leaving. I am just telling you my name...who I am. Who are you?!"
Frustration was prevalent in the other boy's eyes. D was sure it was just as much on the rest of his face were he able to see it. "I can't hear what you are saying, hang on." With that the boy pressed his hands against the glass and D suddenly felt as if someone was reaching inside his chest to grasp his heart. He staggered back as the boy before him began to bang his fists against the glass, his head now throbbing with a pain more invasive than anything he had ever felt. D clutched at his head and cried out as the other boy attacked the glass harder.
"Stop it!" he cried, tears streaming down his cheeks. "It hurts, STOP!"
It was as if the boy truly could not hear him. D could hear each thump as fists connected with the pane and with each thump came that feeling that someone was ripping into him. Not his heart, though that hurt. Not his mind, but that screamed in agony as well. The glass made a sharp crackling noise as it began to split in half and he curled into a fetal position, his eyes staring wildly in the direction of the child who wanted in.
It was as if the boy was trying to enter into his very being.
D recalled all of what had transpired in past dreams and even through the haze of agony he remembered the being telling him he must meet "the darkness" to understand why he was there. He had a feeling that boy was "the darkness". He also had a feeling that the monster was with him, and that if that pane of glass broke he would be in the most danger he had ever been in. Because it was not trying to simply cause him pain. If it entered, he would no longer be. He was sure of it.
"Stop!" he screamed, "Go away! I don't want you here! Leave me alone! It's with you!"
The cracked glass was now an intricate webbing of splits and shatters. He could hear the sound of it hitting the ground, each plink of tiny slivers as sharp to his ears as metal scraping metal. He saw the boy raise his shadow fist again and knowing that the glass would lose, that he would lose, he screamed.
"BAKURA-SAMA!"
And the glass shuddered, splintering into a fine dust that blew his way, filling his nose and mouth with grit, closing his eyes to the world around him. Before the darkness took him he saw pale hair and a friendly and scarred dark skinned face smiling down at him with those eyes. Those purple eyes. "Who are you?" the boy asked, and D opened his mouth to answer. It seemed so very important. He felt the dust try to force its way down his throat…
Weak…
He tried to scream as he struggled against his now invisible foe. The boy was gone and now there was nothing but darkness.
This soul is so weak…
I will not be used, his mind screamed at him, although D had no idea what that meant or what was going on. He reached out and felt something before him. It felt like shoulders. He grabbed at his enemy, feeling that if he could touch it, he could kill it. His mouth was still open, like his jaw was locked in place, but his teeth were now protruding and he was hungry. He blinked, trying to rid himself of the grit in his eyes and he saw red ones staring back at him, its own mouth agape with fangs twice the size of his. It laughed in its thousand laughs, and grabbed his arms, pinning them to his sides. D tried to snap at it, but what he found was that there was something behind him and it was hands that were holding his mouth apart. He made a fearful noise as it pried his jaw wider and the creature before him moved forward, as if to enter him through this opening. D fought, so confused. Wasn't it going to eat him? He was so hungry; would the thing before him nourish him? What about Bakura?
Something inside of him cried out, and finding the strength he had been lacking he lunged forward bit into flesh softer than he expected. It howled in pain, and D knew he had won this time. It would not posses him. The blood gushed into his mouth and he drank at it happily, for once feeling that he would be full if he just drank from…
The pain that sliced its way across his temple brought him back to reality. He cried out landing on dark dirt, banging his head against the tree trunk.
He was running down what seemed to be an endless corridor searching for what he had lost. Racing down the pitch black corridor, Bakura believed he was chasing his sister. He was not sure how he knew, or if he was right, but he did not care. Pushing himself faster he ran, listening to his shoes thud against the stone beneath him, and listening for the voice he was waiting to hear. "East!" he could hear in every heart beat as it pounded in his ears, "You have to keep going east!"
Stopping to catch his breath, the young man saw that he was facing a wall that had not been there before. He could hear someone on the other side, but could not make out the words. "Hello?" he called out to it, "Who are you?"
The voice did not respond, but Bakura felt a sudden panic overtake him. What if it was Amane?! "DON'T LEAVE!" he shouted at the being behind the stone wall and reached up to press his hands against the glass, moving his head forward as if to see through the black stone, and it disintegrated to his touch. He fell forward feeling as if he were a child again, and found himself staring down at eyes as dark as the stone beneath him, against skin as pale as bone. As he watched they changed, bleeding into red wells as the skin melted into the stone, becoming the stone, encircling him. It gripped at him with invisible hands with a force no mortal could have, and a great pain burned in his chest as the monster bit into him. He gasped and struggled against it, feeling like he would often feel when he had been taken over by the voice in his head, the voice in the Ring. Part of him wished to succumb to it, that weak part he had always had, but his new life had hardened him, and both Amane and D were waiting. With this resolve in his heart, he found one of his hands freed and he lashed out with all of his strength…
…and suddenly he was staring at a boy that was lying in dirt, clinging to a tree root that protruded between them. The child was staring wildly at the man, moonlight flashing in his wide eyes, his face showing shock, disbelief, and agony. Bakura tried to reach out to him, but the unexpected pain forced his hand back to feel at his chest which was wet and tacky to the touch. He looked down and shuddered. There were puncture holes in his shirt. He gasped, rising to his feet and stumbling away, as if by doing that the wound would close. There was a strangled howl as he did this and he watched as the boy curled into himself as the night took hold of the sky.
"I'm sorry!" the boy cried, his fingers digging into his jacket. Bakura thought that if there had not been fabric there, the child would be digging deep gashes into his skin. "I thought I was dreaming, I'm sorry!"
"It's…" Bakura looked down at the two little holes and noted that whatever bleeding there had been had stopped. In fact, it did not even seem deep. Nowhere as deep as the dream he had, even less than that one time…with the Ring. The worst thing about it was that his teeth had snagged in the skin a little, dragging out a jagged little cut for each puncture. "Fine, really, D-kun."
"No, it's not! You'll turn and it will be my fault!"
"Stop it," Bakura said, pulling off his shirt and pressing it fully onto the wound. "It's not that bad. What even constitutes as a full on bite? What about you can change me? I don't even think you drank anything."
"I…"
"You bit me and I punched you, and I'm sorry for that. And if I change…" he sighed, looking at the night sky, "well, then…I'm with you and I really don't care anymore." He pulled his shirt back and a very thin trickle of blood slid down his chest, drawing a dark line across his body. He once again placed the cloth to it. "We'll see what we'll see."
"But, Bakura-sama…" D said softly, remembering his nightmare. He had drunk deeply, he could have sworn, but had it just been a dream? His mouth tasted as if he had hardly had the time to get a drop, and he felt a hunger that had been there since before he had fallen asleep. Another thing, how had he managed to get so near Bakura when he had been on the others side of the tree's trunk? The feeling of invasion still lingered in the back of his mind and he trembled.
Bakura sat back down in front of D, checking every so often to see if the bleeding had stopped. His mind raced with his own dream, as short as it had seemed. Did his dream mean that he was frightened of D? He doubted it. There had never been a time that he had been afraid of him. However, the boy was correct to be worried. Bakura did not know much about what it took to become a vampire, but he hoped that it took more than breaking the skin. They both sat in silence, one that reminded the young man of when they had first met; the edge of this silence sharp with uncertainty.
"I've had worse you know," Bakura said, dropping the blood spattered cloth. His chest ached, but now it was more relative to the wound, rather than the dream.
D did not immediately reply. He fidgeted where he sat before being pulled into an embrace by the older man. D could smell the blood, but the comfort quelled his want just enough. "Worse what?" he asked finally, drawing shapes in the ground beside them with his finger nail.
"Injuries. I mean, aside from what your father did." The boy frowned, but Bakura smiled. "I remember The Ring digging into me until the points were more than halfway in…did I ever show you how big it was?"
"No…"
Bakura moved his hands until both index fingers and thumbs were touching in a complete circle. "It was about this big, give or take, and the points were about as long as my pinky finger."
"Oh."
"And…I don't know if you ever noticed this, but look," He placed his left hand before them both. "Do you see the scar?"
"I noticed it," D replied, a little less ashamed and a little more curious, "but I never thought to ask."
"My other…self, he did this when I was trying to help my friends. He was trying to seal their souls away into dolls and take the Puzzle for himself. He impaled it on one of the castle towers. And here," he pointed to his left arm, "I don't remember how I got it, but I know it was from him as well."
"You mentioned that scar to Yugi-san…" He trailed off; remembering that the man he was speaking of was never to be seen by either of them again.
"I did," Bakura said, nodding. "Now, whatever happens, it'll happen without any input from us, so let's not waste time. The temperature has gone down, and I'd rather find a better place to rest for the day than this spot."
Navigating in the dark was both easier and more difficult than what Bakura expected. They were not attacked, although they could hear things moving all around them. A skittering to the left or right and D would turn his head sharply to catch sight of the animal and deliver the information to Bakura, who for as much as he stared in the vicinity, the moonlight would not offer him enough light to see into the darkest of shadows. They passed by resting snakes, rats, ground squirrels, opossums, so many animals that had once been flattened on the road now patrolled it without fear until the shuffling of Bakura's steps reached their ears, setting them to scurry off. Yet they never attacked. His most difficult adversary was cars and the road itself.
It would seem that there had been a number of people still on the road in this area but they had left their vehicles. Bakura could feel his conscience chiding him as he opened cars left and right, seeing if he could find anything of use. The little voice in his head fell silent however when he found a can of unopened soda. He drank half of the fizzed out can and offered the other half to D, who at first shook his head, but could not refuse when Bakura prodded him to try it. The two did not understand the reason for the jam until they reached an area where the lane would have merged into one. A grisly scene greeted them, as the untouched pile up spanned both sides of the road, bent metal and crushed glass glistening in the light that was offered. The scene itself was not untouched, as to the left remained makeshift markers for where someone had taken time to bury the dead before they left. D waited as Bakura stopped to pay his respects, mimicking what he could to show he was not entirely without feeling in the current situation. When Bakura stopped his actions, the boy watched as he backtracked and began searching the cars again. D wondered what the man was thinking, and if he was alright. This new lack of tears was frightening to D.
It was in one of the last cars before the accident that Bakura found a flashlight. He had not expected it to work, figuring the battery was probably too old, but was surprised to find that it gave of a strong beam of light. Traveling became a lot easier for the two, now that Bakura was moving at a faster pace, more assured by the light and the weight of the cool metal in his hand. Low hanging trees were beginning to appear again as they made their way through the pass. Bakura followed the directions until he saw a sign that signified a rest stop and fuel. He looked at D who smiled at him, and let out a hoot of joy. Hope was still there.
When they reached the gas station (the rest of the area had been abandoned for some time, decayed fruits swirling in their blackened mush as flies laid their eggs in them) they found that looters had already been through it (most likely those trapped on either side of the accident) but there was still plenty of what Bakura was looking for. Water. Securing the area around them, they made the gas station their campsite for the night, and by D's request, for the day to follow. He knew Bakura needed to regain his strength, and if anything were to happen (D shuddered at the thought of Bakura possibly changing) he wanted it to happen in a safe environment. He never told this to Bakura, who was more concerned that D needed to rest because of his discomfort earlier on in the day.
They slept dreamlessly that night, which D did not take much note of, yet, for Bakura, it was a rarity that let him fall into such a calming slumber, forgetting of all of the nightmares that had haunted him since the day Amane had promised that they would see each other again soon. Dreams of terrible, pale creatures that chased him and the one he was looking for, and the darkness before him that invited him with open arms.