Yugioh: Interlude ch6
Title: Interlude - Chapter Six
Author: Fictatious
Character(s): Bakura Ryou, Mutou Yuugi, Malik Ishizu, Hirutani
Rating: M
Warnings: Violence and lots of swearing
Summary: Post Battle City, Bakura Ryou finds himself adrift, with no memories of his darker half and no understanding of what is making him so lonely. Yami Bakura is being 'reconditioned' to better serve the darkness. This is a sequel to Delusions and Bad Religion.
Previous: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five
Chapter Summary: Yami has a time-out, Ryou pukes, there's that damn church-scene and SHIT HITS THE FAN!
“I’m home!” Yuugi announced as he walked through the door. “I’m going to go over to Bakura-kun’s place though. I’m just dropping my stuff off!”
“Welcome home,” Grandpa’s voice called back to him from the door that connected the house to the shop.
Yuugi climbed the stairs to his room and dropped his book-bag on the bed.
What are you going to tell him? the Pharaoh asked, curiously. Hirutani probably already told his version of what happened to Jonouchi.
“Yeah, probably,” Yuugi agreed, taking off his coat and tossing it on top of the bag.
So are you just going to tell him what really happened and hope he believes you? The Pharaoh sounded frustrated, he was awkward when it came to dealing with people’s emotions and it irritated him to have something he wasn’t naturally skilled at.
“Yep,” Yuugi answered, sliding his thumbs under the chain around his neck and pulling it off over his head.
A confused feeling radiated from the Puzzle for a moment before Yuugi let it drop from his hands down on top of his coat. You’re changing clothes? the Pharaoh asked.
“Nope,” Yuugi said and turned away from the bed.
What are you doing? the Pharaoh demanded from where the Millennium Puzzle lay atop the heap. Where are you going?
“Already told you,” Yuugi said quietly, not looking back at it, but pausing at the door, his finger hovering above the light-switch. “I’m going to talk to Bakura-kun.”
You’re leaving me behind? the Pharaoh demanded, sounding panicked. Why?
“Because I don’t need you there.” He flipped off the light switch and pulled the door closed.
Yuugi! You can’t tell him! You’re not thinking this through!
“... I thought it through,” Yuugi said quietly to himself as he descended the stairs and strode back through the house to the front door. “I’ll be back later!” he shouted, stepping into his shoes.
“Take care!” Grandpa shouted back from the store.
Yuugi stepped out the door, pulling it shut behind him and then he leaned against it, taking a breath. His heart was pounding. He was scared. His other self was going to be mad at him. The Pharaoh was so sure he knew what was best, and he was trying so hard to restore everything to Maat, but this wasn’t a situation for brute strength anymore. The Pharaoh just didn’t understand that the world couldn’t be made right by sacrificing a person to the ‘greater good.’
If they let that be the way of the world, they couldn’t call themselves human beings.
Yuugi pushed himself away from the door and started walking. As he went, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and opened the contact list. He scrolled to Malik’s name and hit send, then held the phone to his ear and held his breath.
The line picked up after two rings. “Yuugi,” Malik’s voice said calmly at the other end.
“How do I make him remember? The other me won’t interrupt you this time,” Yuugi said quickly.
There was a pause. “... What do you mean?”
“You said Bakura-kun did some kind of spell to tie himself with the other Bakura. You said if I could activate it or something, he might remember,” Yuugi reminded him. “How do I do that?”
There was another quiet pause. “It’s written on his chest, right above his heart. A tattoo of the Thief’s name. Make him say it out loud while he’s looking at it. That might work,” Malik’s voice instructed and Yuugi nodded to the empty air around him. “If it doesn’t, try making him write it down, and there’s a few more things we can try if that doesn’t do it. I don’t know how strong a spell the Pharaoh put on him.”
“Is it in hieroglyph? I don’t think I can read it without the other me...” Yuugi said hesitantly.
“It’s Bakhura,” Malik said.
Yuugi blinked. “Bakura?” he asked, baffled.
“Close, that’s probably what pulled them together. But it’s a totally different meaning and slightly different pronunciation,” Malik explained. “The middle sound doesn’t exist in Japanese, it’s not a Ku. It’s like a Ha and a Ku put together. Blow out like Ha when you’re making the Ku sound.”
Yuugi frowned apprehensively, waiting at a red-light. “Kehuu,” he tried.
“Don’t separate the sounds, they’re the same sound. Khu,” Malik instructed.
“Kkhuu,” Yuugi said, crossing the street and continuing up the block.
“No, it’s farther back in your throat, with the back of your tongue, and don’t block the air before you start it, you’re blowing air through the whole sound. Khu,” Malik said.
“Khuu,” Yuugi tried again.
“That’s it! That’s the sound,” Malik exclaimed. “Bakhura,” he prompted.
“Bakhura,” Yuugi repeated.
“You’ve got it. You need to make Ryou say it while he’s looking at the tattoo.”
Yuugi smiled a little bit, feeling a swell of hope and relief. “Okay. I can do it,” he said, nodding to himself.
...
Ryou sat in the corner of the couch with his knees curled up against him and a blanket pulled around his shoulders. He stared at the TV, watching afternoon cartoons fade into evening comedies and wondering how late Hirutani would be out tonight. He’d prepared dinner to the point that it could be made ready inside of five minutes, whenever Hirutani came home. Now he was just waiting. Waiting until he wasn’t alone.
There was a knock at the door and Ryou’s heart leapt. He scrambled off the couch, the blanket dropping limply to the floor behind him, and ran to the door. “Hirut--” he started but the name froze on his lips as he found himself looking down at Yuugi. “... Yuugi... What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you,” Yuugi said softly, then he looked down and shook his head slightly. “... I need to apologize to you.”
Ryou stared at him for a minute, pursing his lips and shifting on his feet. “It... it’s not a good time...” he mumbled; he didn’t know when Hirutani would be home, and Yuugi shouldn’t be here when he did.
“It’s never going to be a good time though, is it?” Yuugi asked, looking back up at him with wide, worried eyes. “You never know where Hirutani is or when he’s going to come back or when he’s going to hit you, do you.”
Ryou bit his lip and tried to feel indignant instead of scolded. “You need to leave,” he said quietly.
“He’s not coming,” Yuugi said quietly. “... That’s where Jonouchi-kun was today... He went out and beat Hirutani up.”
Ryou froze, terrified at the thought of what might have happened.
“Please. Please, Bakura-kun,” Yuugi pleaded quietly, reaching out and taking Ryou’s hand in both of his. “It’s because he’s really scared for you, we’re all really scared. Can I please tell you why? Please?”
Ryou looked helplessly back at him, not sure what to do. “But Hirutani!” he protested, stepping forward slightly and looking outside, as though Hirutani would be right there. “He-he’s hurt? I have to-“
“He’s sulking,” Yuugi assured him, putting one hand against Ryou’s shoulder and pushing him gently back into the apartment. “He’s been in worse fights. He’s a Yankee*, remember?”
“B-but-” Ryou whimpered.
“He’ll be okay,” Yuugi said, taking him by the arm and stepping through the door to guide him back inside. “Don’t worry about him right now, Bakura-kun. Please, I- I need to talk to you. I need to explain.”
Ryou looked back at him, biting his lip and feeling overwhelmed. He said nothing as Yuugi closed the door and slipped off his shoes. He then caught Ryou’s hand, like he was leading a small child, and tugged him into the living room. He guided Ryou to the couch, sat down with him and turned off the TV.
“Did Hirutani tell you about the last time we met him?” Yuugi asked quietly.
Ryou shook his head. After the disturbance at the apartment yesterday, Hirutani had disappeared and not returned until nearly 3-o-clock in the morning.
“Okay,” Yuugi nodded and pursed his lips for a moment. “He and Jonouchi-kun and Honda-kun were in a gang together in middle school,” he explained. “Last year, a couple months before you transferred to our school, Hirutani started a new gang, and it was mostly Rintama guys, but he wanted Jonouchi to be in it too even though he was going to our school.”
Ryou reached down to the floor and retrieved the blanket he’d dropped earlier. He pulled it back around himself and tucked his legs under him as Yuugi kept talking. “But Jonouchi-kun didn’t want to be in a gang anymore and he got in a fight with the whole gang.” Yuugi bit his lip, pulling his own legs up onto the couch-cushions and crossing them. “And-and I guess it’s normal- Jonouchi-kun says it is- for a gang to beat up somebody if they try to leave or something, and- and they beat up Jonouchi-kun...”
Ryou bit his lip and pulled the blanket tighter around himself. Yuugi’s story was sounding all too plausible, and not very surprising. Jonouchi was scrappy; he’d learned to fight somewhere and he had anger issues, and Hirutani... this didn’t sound out of character for him...
“B-but Jonouchi-kun- he was being tough and stuff, you know how he is, and- and- and Hirutani got taser-guns somewhere and- and-” Yuugi’s eyes clouded with emotion and then squeezed shut. “They almost killed him!” he blurted out.
Ryou dipped his face, looking down at the edge of the blanket, clutched in his hand. It wasn’t hard to believe. Not at all. Maybe it should have been, but... but it sounded like exactly the kind of thing Hirutani was capable of when he was angry.
“Bakura-kun, we were really scared when we found out he was trying to take advantage of you,” Yuugi mumbled quietly. “He’s a really scary guy and he could really hurt you a lot.”
“H-he didn’t though,” Ryou stammered, shaking his head, feeling tears pricking at his eyes. “He liked me. He stayed with me.”
“Bakura-kun, he gave you that bruise!” Yuugi protested, leaning toward him and catching Ryou’s shoulders.
“It-it was an ac-cident!” Ryou protested, shaking his head and closing his eyes.
“... I’m sorry, Bakura-kun. This is all my fault,” Yuugi whispered. “This isn’t who you are... I shouldn’t have let this happen. I should have told you a long time ago...”
Ryou opened his eyes a little looking at Yuugi and wondering what that meant. Told him? About Hirutani? Yuugi hadn’t even known that he had any involvement with him until yesterday though.
“I- I was scared you’d hate me,” Yuugi whispered. “Or something would happen and I’d lose you... I was scared of what would happen... I thought maybe you could be normal if I didn’t say anything...”
Ryou blinked and stared at him. Where the hell was this going? It sounded like something straight out of a shojo-manga. Yuugi was... confessing to him? Ryou’s mouth dropped open a little in disbelief. He’d never gotten that vibe from Yuugi.
“It’s just- it’s- you have to understand-” Yuugi mumbled, he was shaking a little now and looking as distressed as Ryou had ever seen him, and he was... adorable.
Ryou reached up and caught Yuugi’s hand in his. Yuugi looked up at him, looking startled and worried. “... You’ve always been so nice, Yuugi,” he said softly, looking down at their linked hands. “I haven’t known many people as nice as you.”
“I- I wanted to be your friend...” Yuugi mumbled. “B-but friends are honest with each other, and I’ve been lying to you...”
“... It’s okay,” Ryou said quietly, feeling very calm now.
“No, it’s- I have to show you something,” Yuugi said suddenly, his hand tightening on Ryou’s as he climbed off the couch.
Ryou blinked. “Yuugi?” he asked, baffled.
“I have to show you. Malik said maybe it would work,” Yuugi insisted, pulling on his hand.
“Malik?” Bemused, Ryou let Yuugi pull him off the couch. The blanket dropped on the floor again and Yuugi lead him over to the bathroom. “Yuugi, what is it?” Ryou asked, totally puzzled by the direction this was going.
“Um, let’s see. Take off your shirt,” Yuugi said, looking totally serious.
Ryou stared at him and felt heat seeping into his face. “Y-Yuugi, this is- this is really- What?” he stammered.
“It’s important, Bakura-kun! You have to see it!” Yuugi insisted.
Ryou wondered what comics Yuugi had been reading. “I- I really don’t think--” Ryou started.
“Bakura-kun, please! Just for a minute!” Yuugi whined, looking desperate.
At a loss for what else to do, Ryou decided to comply and hesitantly pulled his T-shirt over his head, his face burning. He clutched the shirt awkwardly in one hand and looked back at Yuugi, who was staring at his chest. His face felt positively nuclear. “Y-Yuugi, w-what the hell?” he demanded.
“There! Right there! The tattoo!” Yuugi said, pointing to the left of Ryou’s sternum.
“Oh what the hell!” Ryou exclaimed, irritation suddenly overcoming his embarrassment. Why did everybody keep talking about some phantom tattoo? Bakura Ryou did not have a tattoo! He would never get some gangster symbol stamped into his skin! It was just stupid! He didn’t even have a birthmark there, so what was everybody talking about? “I don’t have a tattoo!”
“You do!” Yuugi protested, looking up at his face again. “It’s right there!” he pointed.
“There’s nothing there, Yuugi! Who started this stupid joke?!” Ryou demanded, starting to feel downright angry.
Yuugi grabbed his shoulder and pulled Ryou around to face the mirror. “Look right here,” he pointed to the place on Ryou’s chest, “and say ‘Bakhura,’” he instructed.
Ryou gave Yuugi a skeptical, irritated look through the mirror. “My name?” he asked, his lip starting to tug up into a sneer.
“No! Almost!” Yuugi said frantically. “The middle letter is different! It’s khu! It’s not Japanese, it has a weird sound, khu!”
“Khu,” Ryou snorted, the strange nonsense-sound coming easily to him for some reason. “What are you talking about, Yuugi?”
“Say it all together! Say ‘Bakhura’ and look right here!” Yuugi insisted, poking Ryou’s chest and pushing him back towards the mirror again.
Ryou growled. He was really getting sick of this stupid game. He decided to humor Yuugi, hoping maybe the smaller teen would stop acting like an idiot if he did. “Bakhura,” he said, looking into the mirror, at the blank space on his chest. Which suddenly became not so blank, crisp, black lines bleeding into the image on the mirror out of nowhere...
And then the universe exploded.
...
Yuugi jumped back a foot when Bakura screamed blood-curdlingly. He stared at his friend as Bakura’s face became wild, hysterical, and he screamed again, sounding like someone was cutting off his leg. “Bakura-kun!” Yuugi wailed, catching his arm, trying to calm him down. “Bakura-kun!”
Bakura’s arm lashed out and shook Yuugi off so sharply he fell back against the wall and sat down. Bakura gave up screaming, and loud, heavy sobs started pouring out of him as he clutched the sink for support. Yuugi gingerly climbed to his feet. “Bakura-kun... I’m so sorry...” he whispered.
Bakura pitched forward and vomited. Then he let go of the sink and crumpled to the floor. “Bakura-kun!” Yuugi twisted the faucet and grabbed a wash cloth, he wet it down and left the sink running to wash away the vomit as he knelt down next to Bakura, trying to push back all the hair and find his face. “Bakura-kun, are--” he started.
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Bakura screamed, slapping him away.
“Bakura-kun, I--” Yuugi tried helplessly.
“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Bakura shoved him and stumbled to his feet. He took off out of the room, running.
“Bakura-kun!” Yuugi cried out and rolled to his feet to chase after him.
Bakura didn’t stop long enough to get a jacket, he barely stopped for his shoes, before he was out the front door.
“BAKURA-KUN!” Yuugi yelled after him, trying to catch up.
...
Sek had a map drawn in the sand on the floor. He was grilling Bakhura on the layout as Mot leaned against the wall and watched, silent for once. “The Wadi?” Sek asked.
Bakhura pointed. “Here.”
“Right. Kul’Elna?”
“Here.”
“Amarna?”
“Here.”
“Good. Maru’Aten?”
Bakhura started to point but was distracted by Mot’s sudden, sharp intake of breath. He looked up at the demon, who had turned his head and was staring off into space, looking as though he were trying to find something. “H-here...” Bakhura mumbled, pointing, but still looking at Mot curiously.
“Well that’s my cue I guess!” Mot announced. “It looks like I’ve got some business to attend to!” he pushed away from the wall and leapt up to the platform at the top of the stairs. “Toodles!” he said with a wave, as he stepped out into the dark nothingness beyond.
“... What happened?” Bakhura asked quietly, frowning.
“It doesn’t matter,” Sek said shortly. “Pay attention. Where is Till?”
“Here,” Bakhura pointed.
...
Ryou kept running, even after he’d lost Yuugi. The light shifted from an October sunset to early twilight as he charged down empty streets, not knowing what he was running to or from. Salt from dried tears itched on his cheeks and his feet ached. He noticed vaguely that he was nearing the busier side of town, where people would still be out walking. He didn’t want to deal with people. He didn’t want to see them. He didn’t want them to see him.
He turned a sharp corner into an alley, trying to jump over the car-blocker and tripping on it instead. He slammed down to the ground and lay there for a moment, cringing and shaking.
Where are you going? a not-voice asked.
Ryou rolled over and looked around frantically, trying to find the source. He couldn’t find any irregularities in the twilight shadows around him, which disturbed him far more than finding an obvious source for the words would have. He climbed to his feet and took off again.
He wasn’t unused to not-voices, he remembered that now, half of his conversations used to be with not-voices, but this one was not familiar. It wasn’t the Thief and it wasn’t the Snake. It was horribly inhuman like the Snake, something so dark and twisted it couldn’t belong to this world, but it was different. He shot out of the alley and hooked a sharp left. A minute later he was in the suburbs again, running a tree-lined sidewalk down a quiet block.
What are you running from? You know there’s nowhere you can go, the not-voice mocked.
Shut up, Ryou thought at it and turned another corner. On this block, nestled in amongst the single-family homes, he spotted a variation. A tall steeple and a cross stood out against the darkening sky. A church! Evil spirits couldn’t go into churches, could they? Ryou decided it was worth a try and swerved off of the sidewalk, charging straight for the doors of the chapel.
The doors swung open easily under his touch, not locked like any other building would be after dark, and Ryou rushed inside. He slowed down, but didn’t stop, walking down the isle and looking around suspiciously, listening for the not-voice. He froze when a light caught his peripheral vision and turned to watch the candles near the alter lighting themselves. They were real candles, not the battery-powered kind, and they had no reason to be bursting into spontaneous flame.
Ryou bit his lip and took a step back, towards the doors. “N-no,” he whispered, and then shouted at the shadows around him, “D-don’t touch me!”
There’s no point in running, the not-voice said in an amused tone. We’re not done with you yet.
“Leave me alone!” Ryou took another step backwards, looking around frantically.
You’re never alone, Ryou.
Everything in the chapel suddenly seemed to resonate with some intense power, the organ pipes vibrated with it and produced a horrible whine. Ryou clamped his hands over his ears, feeling like his head was going to pop. He felt like he was being grabbed by dozens of hands, or wrapped and bound by living chains. The screeching of the organ grew steadily louder until finally, blissful, silent darkness consumed Ryou.
...
Japan was truly the land of convenience. The people here had damn near perfected convenience. Why, in five more years, they’d probably have coffee and beer piped directly into homes like tap-water! Not that any of them would be alive in five years. As it was, a hot and cold vending machine on every street-corner wasn’t too shabby, and Mot happily purchased a can of beer from one. He grinned and almost giggled as the can clunked down into the hatch near his knees.
He continued walking, cracking open the can and taking a swig. Japanese beer was intriguingly sweet and mild, he noted. Holding the can in one hand, he stretched out the other in front of him and admired his long, slender fingers. Human aesthetics were a bit strange when one first considered them, but Mot had come to appreciate them over the millennia.
Bakura Ryou was girlishly pretty, although it seemed to Mot that most of the Japanese had much rounder features than Egyptians, giving a sweet, supple impression. Mot hummed and ran a finger down his soft cheek. He wondered if he could find a playmate and have some fun while he had the use of this intriguing body. He couldn’t let it get damaged, of course, but getting it laid shouldn’t hurt.
Another collection of vending machines lined his path and he peeked at the wares they were selling as he swaggered along. He paused in front of the second one and hummed happily. Ice cream! He dug his hands into his pockets and pulled out a few coins, picking through and finding two 100 coins to feed to the machine. A moment later he had a chocolate creamsicle to enjoy with his beer.
The creamsicle didn’t last long; Mot was finishing the last few lumps of vanilla ice cream and licking the stick clean as he found the stairs to Bakura Ryou’s apartment. He tossed the stick aside carelessly and took another sip of his beer, then laughed at how bitter it tasted after the ice cream.
He shifted the beer into his left hand and searched for his keys as he climbed the steps. He pulled them out and twirled them around his finger by the key-ring and took another sip, coming to the top of the stairs. He paused when he got there and tilted his head curiously. Someone was crouched down next to Bakura Ryou’s door. Mot tilted his head a little more as he walked up the balcony, trying to see the figure’s face and whether he could match it to anybody in Bakura Ryou’s memories.
The figure looked up sharply at Mot when it noticed his presence and recognition flipped on a light switch in his mind. Hirutani Kanaye. Mot grinned widely and gave a gleeful little hop. “Well shit! Happy birthday to me!” he giggled.
“What the fuck are you on about?” Hirutani snarled, glaring at him. The boy had a split-lip and some very noticeable bruising on his face. The Pharaoh’s work, perhaps? “Open the goddamned door, Ryou,” he commanded, delighting Mot with his false bravado.
Mot laughed and leaned down, catching the front of the boy’s coat with one hand as he held his beer at a safe distance with the other, and dragging the startled-looking teenager easily to his feet. “Oh, Ryou’s not home right now, honey, but you can play with me!” Mot said, grinning so wide it was painful. “You look like you need a hug!”
...
...
* Yankee is used to refer to street-gang teenagers.
A/N:
I’ve pretty much brought this fic full-circle now, back into the canon time-line here. I guess I’ll write a little short chapter/teaser kind of thing for what’s going on in school the next day here, because I can’t exactly leave Yuugi wandering around his canon self like this didn’t happen... but I’m going to be starting a new fic for taking this into the Millennium World series.
Author: Fictatious
Character(s): Bakura Ryou, Mutou Yuugi, Malik Ishizu, Hirutani
Rating: M
Warnings: Violence and lots of swearing
Summary: Post Battle City, Bakura Ryou finds himself adrift, with no memories of his darker half and no understanding of what is making him so lonely. Yami Bakura is being 'reconditioned' to better serve the darkness. This is a sequel to Delusions and Bad Religion.
Previous: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five
Chapter Summary: Yami has a time-out, Ryou pukes, there's that damn church-scene and SHIT HITS THE FAN!
“I’m home!” Yuugi announced as he walked through the door. “I’m going to go over to Bakura-kun’s place though. I’m just dropping my stuff off!”
“Welcome home,” Grandpa’s voice called back to him from the door that connected the house to the shop.
Yuugi climbed the stairs to his room and dropped his book-bag on the bed.
What are you going to tell him? the Pharaoh asked, curiously. Hirutani probably already told his version of what happened to Jonouchi.
“Yeah, probably,” Yuugi agreed, taking off his coat and tossing it on top of the bag.
So are you just going to tell him what really happened and hope he believes you? The Pharaoh sounded frustrated, he was awkward when it came to dealing with people’s emotions and it irritated him to have something he wasn’t naturally skilled at.
“Yep,” Yuugi answered, sliding his thumbs under the chain around his neck and pulling it off over his head.
A confused feeling radiated from the Puzzle for a moment before Yuugi let it drop from his hands down on top of his coat. You’re changing clothes? the Pharaoh asked.
“Nope,” Yuugi said and turned away from the bed.
What are you doing? the Pharaoh demanded from where the Millennium Puzzle lay atop the heap. Where are you going?
“Already told you,” Yuugi said quietly, not looking back at it, but pausing at the door, his finger hovering above the light-switch. “I’m going to talk to Bakura-kun.”
You’re leaving me behind? the Pharaoh demanded, sounding panicked. Why?
“Because I don’t need you there.” He flipped off the light switch and pulled the door closed.
Yuugi! You can’t tell him! You’re not thinking this through!
“... I thought it through,” Yuugi said quietly to himself as he descended the stairs and strode back through the house to the front door. “I’ll be back later!” he shouted, stepping into his shoes.
“Take care!” Grandpa shouted back from the store.
Yuugi stepped out the door, pulling it shut behind him and then he leaned against it, taking a breath. His heart was pounding. He was scared. His other self was going to be mad at him. The Pharaoh was so sure he knew what was best, and he was trying so hard to restore everything to Maat, but this wasn’t a situation for brute strength anymore. The Pharaoh just didn’t understand that the world couldn’t be made right by sacrificing a person to the ‘greater good.’
If they let that be the way of the world, they couldn’t call themselves human beings.
Yuugi pushed himself away from the door and started walking. As he went, he pulled the phone out of his pocket and opened the contact list. He scrolled to Malik’s name and hit send, then held the phone to his ear and held his breath.
The line picked up after two rings. “Yuugi,” Malik’s voice said calmly at the other end.
“How do I make him remember? The other me won’t interrupt you this time,” Yuugi said quickly.
There was a pause. “... What do you mean?”
“You said Bakura-kun did some kind of spell to tie himself with the other Bakura. You said if I could activate it or something, he might remember,” Yuugi reminded him. “How do I do that?”
There was another quiet pause. “It’s written on his chest, right above his heart. A tattoo of the Thief’s name. Make him say it out loud while he’s looking at it. That might work,” Malik’s voice instructed and Yuugi nodded to the empty air around him. “If it doesn’t, try making him write it down, and there’s a few more things we can try if that doesn’t do it. I don’t know how strong a spell the Pharaoh put on him.”
“Is it in hieroglyph? I don’t think I can read it without the other me...” Yuugi said hesitantly.
“It’s Bakhura,” Malik said.
Yuugi blinked. “Bakura?” he asked, baffled.
“Close, that’s probably what pulled them together. But it’s a totally different meaning and slightly different pronunciation,” Malik explained. “The middle sound doesn’t exist in Japanese, it’s not a Ku. It’s like a Ha and a Ku put together. Blow out like Ha when you’re making the Ku sound.”
Yuugi frowned apprehensively, waiting at a red-light. “Kehuu,” he tried.
“Don’t separate the sounds, they’re the same sound. Khu,” Malik instructed.
“Kkhuu,” Yuugi said, crossing the street and continuing up the block.
“No, it’s farther back in your throat, with the back of your tongue, and don’t block the air before you start it, you’re blowing air through the whole sound. Khu,” Malik said.
“Khuu,” Yuugi tried again.
“That’s it! That’s the sound,” Malik exclaimed. “Bakhura,” he prompted.
“Bakhura,” Yuugi repeated.
“You’ve got it. You need to make Ryou say it while he’s looking at the tattoo.”
Yuugi smiled a little bit, feeling a swell of hope and relief. “Okay. I can do it,” he said, nodding to himself.
...
Ryou sat in the corner of the couch with his knees curled up against him and a blanket pulled around his shoulders. He stared at the TV, watching afternoon cartoons fade into evening comedies and wondering how late Hirutani would be out tonight. He’d prepared dinner to the point that it could be made ready inside of five minutes, whenever Hirutani came home. Now he was just waiting. Waiting until he wasn’t alone.
There was a knock at the door and Ryou’s heart leapt. He scrambled off the couch, the blanket dropping limply to the floor behind him, and ran to the door. “Hirut--” he started but the name froze on his lips as he found himself looking down at Yuugi. “... Yuugi... What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you,” Yuugi said softly, then he looked down and shook his head slightly. “... I need to apologize to you.”
Ryou stared at him for a minute, pursing his lips and shifting on his feet. “It... it’s not a good time...” he mumbled; he didn’t know when Hirutani would be home, and Yuugi shouldn’t be here when he did.
“It’s never going to be a good time though, is it?” Yuugi asked, looking back up at him with wide, worried eyes. “You never know where Hirutani is or when he’s going to come back or when he’s going to hit you, do you.”
Ryou bit his lip and tried to feel indignant instead of scolded. “You need to leave,” he said quietly.
“He’s not coming,” Yuugi said quietly. “... That’s where Jonouchi-kun was today... He went out and beat Hirutani up.”
Ryou froze, terrified at the thought of what might have happened.
“Please. Please, Bakura-kun,” Yuugi pleaded quietly, reaching out and taking Ryou’s hand in both of his. “It’s because he’s really scared for you, we’re all really scared. Can I please tell you why? Please?”
Ryou looked helplessly back at him, not sure what to do. “But Hirutani!” he protested, stepping forward slightly and looking outside, as though Hirutani would be right there. “He-he’s hurt? I have to-“
“He’s sulking,” Yuugi assured him, putting one hand against Ryou’s shoulder and pushing him gently back into the apartment. “He’s been in worse fights. He’s a Yankee*, remember?”
“B-but-” Ryou whimpered.
“He’ll be okay,” Yuugi said, taking him by the arm and stepping through the door to guide him back inside. “Don’t worry about him right now, Bakura-kun. Please, I- I need to talk to you. I need to explain.”
Ryou looked back at him, biting his lip and feeling overwhelmed. He said nothing as Yuugi closed the door and slipped off his shoes. He then caught Ryou’s hand, like he was leading a small child, and tugged him into the living room. He guided Ryou to the couch, sat down with him and turned off the TV.
“Did Hirutani tell you about the last time we met him?” Yuugi asked quietly.
Ryou shook his head. After the disturbance at the apartment yesterday, Hirutani had disappeared and not returned until nearly 3-o-clock in the morning.
“Okay,” Yuugi nodded and pursed his lips for a moment. “He and Jonouchi-kun and Honda-kun were in a gang together in middle school,” he explained. “Last year, a couple months before you transferred to our school, Hirutani started a new gang, and it was mostly Rintama guys, but he wanted Jonouchi to be in it too even though he was going to our school.”
Ryou reached down to the floor and retrieved the blanket he’d dropped earlier. He pulled it back around himself and tucked his legs under him as Yuugi kept talking. “But Jonouchi-kun didn’t want to be in a gang anymore and he got in a fight with the whole gang.” Yuugi bit his lip, pulling his own legs up onto the couch-cushions and crossing them. “And-and I guess it’s normal- Jonouchi-kun says it is- for a gang to beat up somebody if they try to leave or something, and- and they beat up Jonouchi-kun...”
Ryou bit his lip and pulled the blanket tighter around himself. Yuugi’s story was sounding all too plausible, and not very surprising. Jonouchi was scrappy; he’d learned to fight somewhere and he had anger issues, and Hirutani... this didn’t sound out of character for him...
“B-but Jonouchi-kun- he was being tough and stuff, you know how he is, and- and- and Hirutani got taser-guns somewhere and- and-” Yuugi’s eyes clouded with emotion and then squeezed shut. “They almost killed him!” he blurted out.
Ryou dipped his face, looking down at the edge of the blanket, clutched in his hand. It wasn’t hard to believe. Not at all. Maybe it should have been, but... but it sounded like exactly the kind of thing Hirutani was capable of when he was angry.
“Bakura-kun, we were really scared when we found out he was trying to take advantage of you,” Yuugi mumbled quietly. “He’s a really scary guy and he could really hurt you a lot.”
“H-he didn’t though,” Ryou stammered, shaking his head, feeling tears pricking at his eyes. “He liked me. He stayed with me.”
“Bakura-kun, he gave you that bruise!” Yuugi protested, leaning toward him and catching Ryou’s shoulders.
“It-it was an ac-cident!” Ryou protested, shaking his head and closing his eyes.
“... I’m sorry, Bakura-kun. This is all my fault,” Yuugi whispered. “This isn’t who you are... I shouldn’t have let this happen. I should have told you a long time ago...”
Ryou opened his eyes a little looking at Yuugi and wondering what that meant. Told him? About Hirutani? Yuugi hadn’t even known that he had any involvement with him until yesterday though.
“I- I was scared you’d hate me,” Yuugi whispered. “Or something would happen and I’d lose you... I was scared of what would happen... I thought maybe you could be normal if I didn’t say anything...”
Ryou blinked and stared at him. Where the hell was this going? It sounded like something straight out of a shojo-manga. Yuugi was... confessing to him? Ryou’s mouth dropped open a little in disbelief. He’d never gotten that vibe from Yuugi.
“It’s just- it’s- you have to understand-” Yuugi mumbled, he was shaking a little now and looking as distressed as Ryou had ever seen him, and he was... adorable.
Ryou reached up and caught Yuugi’s hand in his. Yuugi looked up at him, looking startled and worried. “... You’ve always been so nice, Yuugi,” he said softly, looking down at their linked hands. “I haven’t known many people as nice as you.”
“I- I wanted to be your friend...” Yuugi mumbled. “B-but friends are honest with each other, and I’ve been lying to you...”
“... It’s okay,” Ryou said quietly, feeling very calm now.
“No, it’s- I have to show you something,” Yuugi said suddenly, his hand tightening on Ryou’s as he climbed off the couch.
Ryou blinked. “Yuugi?” he asked, baffled.
“I have to show you. Malik said maybe it would work,” Yuugi insisted, pulling on his hand.
“Malik?” Bemused, Ryou let Yuugi pull him off the couch. The blanket dropped on the floor again and Yuugi lead him over to the bathroom. “Yuugi, what is it?” Ryou asked, totally puzzled by the direction this was going.
“Um, let’s see. Take off your shirt,” Yuugi said, looking totally serious.
Ryou stared at him and felt heat seeping into his face. “Y-Yuugi, this is- this is really- What?” he stammered.
“It’s important, Bakura-kun! You have to see it!” Yuugi insisted.
Ryou wondered what comics Yuugi had been reading. “I- I really don’t think--” Ryou started.
“Bakura-kun, please! Just for a minute!” Yuugi whined, looking desperate.
At a loss for what else to do, Ryou decided to comply and hesitantly pulled his T-shirt over his head, his face burning. He clutched the shirt awkwardly in one hand and looked back at Yuugi, who was staring at his chest. His face felt positively nuclear. “Y-Yuugi, w-what the hell?” he demanded.
“There! Right there! The tattoo!” Yuugi said, pointing to the left of Ryou’s sternum.
“Oh what the hell!” Ryou exclaimed, irritation suddenly overcoming his embarrassment. Why did everybody keep talking about some phantom tattoo? Bakura Ryou did not have a tattoo! He would never get some gangster symbol stamped into his skin! It was just stupid! He didn’t even have a birthmark there, so what was everybody talking about? “I don’t have a tattoo!”
“You do!” Yuugi protested, looking up at his face again. “It’s right there!” he pointed.
“There’s nothing there, Yuugi! Who started this stupid joke?!” Ryou demanded, starting to feel downright angry.
Yuugi grabbed his shoulder and pulled Ryou around to face the mirror. “Look right here,” he pointed to the place on Ryou’s chest, “and say ‘Bakhura,’” he instructed.
Ryou gave Yuugi a skeptical, irritated look through the mirror. “My name?” he asked, his lip starting to tug up into a sneer.
“No! Almost!” Yuugi said frantically. “The middle letter is different! It’s khu! It’s not Japanese, it has a weird sound, khu!”
“Khu,” Ryou snorted, the strange nonsense-sound coming easily to him for some reason. “What are you talking about, Yuugi?”
“Say it all together! Say ‘Bakhura’ and look right here!” Yuugi insisted, poking Ryou’s chest and pushing him back towards the mirror again.
Ryou growled. He was really getting sick of this stupid game. He decided to humor Yuugi, hoping maybe the smaller teen would stop acting like an idiot if he did. “Bakhura,” he said, looking into the mirror, at the blank space on his chest. Which suddenly became not so blank, crisp, black lines bleeding into the image on the mirror out of nowhere...
And then the universe exploded.
...
Yuugi jumped back a foot when Bakura screamed blood-curdlingly. He stared at his friend as Bakura’s face became wild, hysterical, and he screamed again, sounding like someone was cutting off his leg. “Bakura-kun!” Yuugi wailed, catching his arm, trying to calm him down. “Bakura-kun!”
Bakura’s arm lashed out and shook Yuugi off so sharply he fell back against the wall and sat down. Bakura gave up screaming, and loud, heavy sobs started pouring out of him as he clutched the sink for support. Yuugi gingerly climbed to his feet. “Bakura-kun... I’m so sorry...” he whispered.
Bakura pitched forward and vomited. Then he let go of the sink and crumpled to the floor. “Bakura-kun!” Yuugi twisted the faucet and grabbed a wash cloth, he wet it down and left the sink running to wash away the vomit as he knelt down next to Bakura, trying to push back all the hair and find his face. “Bakura-kun, are--” he started.
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Bakura screamed, slapping him away.
“Bakura-kun, I--” Yuugi tried helplessly.
“GET AWAY FROM ME!” Bakura shoved him and stumbled to his feet. He took off out of the room, running.
“Bakura-kun!” Yuugi cried out and rolled to his feet to chase after him.
Bakura didn’t stop long enough to get a jacket, he barely stopped for his shoes, before he was out the front door.
“BAKURA-KUN!” Yuugi yelled after him, trying to catch up.
...
Sek had a map drawn in the sand on the floor. He was grilling Bakhura on the layout as Mot leaned against the wall and watched, silent for once. “The Wadi?” Sek asked.
Bakhura pointed. “Here.”
“Right. Kul’Elna?”
“Here.”
“Amarna?”
“Here.”
“Good. Maru’Aten?”
Bakhura started to point but was distracted by Mot’s sudden, sharp intake of breath. He looked up at the demon, who had turned his head and was staring off into space, looking as though he were trying to find something. “H-here...” Bakhura mumbled, pointing, but still looking at Mot curiously.
“Well that’s my cue I guess!” Mot announced. “It looks like I’ve got some business to attend to!” he pushed away from the wall and leapt up to the platform at the top of the stairs. “Toodles!” he said with a wave, as he stepped out into the dark nothingness beyond.
“... What happened?” Bakhura asked quietly, frowning.
“It doesn’t matter,” Sek said shortly. “Pay attention. Where is Till?”
“Here,” Bakhura pointed.
...
Ryou kept running, even after he’d lost Yuugi. The light shifted from an October sunset to early twilight as he charged down empty streets, not knowing what he was running to or from. Salt from dried tears itched on his cheeks and his feet ached. He noticed vaguely that he was nearing the busier side of town, where people would still be out walking. He didn’t want to deal with people. He didn’t want to see them. He didn’t want them to see him.
He turned a sharp corner into an alley, trying to jump over the car-blocker and tripping on it instead. He slammed down to the ground and lay there for a moment, cringing and shaking.
Where are you going? a not-voice asked.
Ryou rolled over and looked around frantically, trying to find the source. He couldn’t find any irregularities in the twilight shadows around him, which disturbed him far more than finding an obvious source for the words would have. He climbed to his feet and took off again.
He wasn’t unused to not-voices, he remembered that now, half of his conversations used to be with not-voices, but this one was not familiar. It wasn’t the Thief and it wasn’t the Snake. It was horribly inhuman like the Snake, something so dark and twisted it couldn’t belong to this world, but it was different. He shot out of the alley and hooked a sharp left. A minute later he was in the suburbs again, running a tree-lined sidewalk down a quiet block.
What are you running from? You know there’s nowhere you can go, the not-voice mocked.
Shut up, Ryou thought at it and turned another corner. On this block, nestled in amongst the single-family homes, he spotted a variation. A tall steeple and a cross stood out against the darkening sky. A church! Evil spirits couldn’t go into churches, could they? Ryou decided it was worth a try and swerved off of the sidewalk, charging straight for the doors of the chapel.
The doors swung open easily under his touch, not locked like any other building would be after dark, and Ryou rushed inside. He slowed down, but didn’t stop, walking down the isle and looking around suspiciously, listening for the not-voice. He froze when a light caught his peripheral vision and turned to watch the candles near the alter lighting themselves. They were real candles, not the battery-powered kind, and they had no reason to be bursting into spontaneous flame.
Ryou bit his lip and took a step back, towards the doors. “N-no,” he whispered, and then shouted at the shadows around him, “D-don’t touch me!”
There’s no point in running, the not-voice said in an amused tone. We’re not done with you yet.
“Leave me alone!” Ryou took another step backwards, looking around frantically.
You’re never alone, Ryou.
Everything in the chapel suddenly seemed to resonate with some intense power, the organ pipes vibrated with it and produced a horrible whine. Ryou clamped his hands over his ears, feeling like his head was going to pop. He felt like he was being grabbed by dozens of hands, or wrapped and bound by living chains. The screeching of the organ grew steadily louder until finally, blissful, silent darkness consumed Ryou.
...
Japan was truly the land of convenience. The people here had damn near perfected convenience. Why, in five more years, they’d probably have coffee and beer piped directly into homes like tap-water! Not that any of them would be alive in five years. As it was, a hot and cold vending machine on every street-corner wasn’t too shabby, and Mot happily purchased a can of beer from one. He grinned and almost giggled as the can clunked down into the hatch near his knees.
He continued walking, cracking open the can and taking a swig. Japanese beer was intriguingly sweet and mild, he noted. Holding the can in one hand, he stretched out the other in front of him and admired his long, slender fingers. Human aesthetics were a bit strange when one first considered them, but Mot had come to appreciate them over the millennia.
Bakura Ryou was girlishly pretty, although it seemed to Mot that most of the Japanese had much rounder features than Egyptians, giving a sweet, supple impression. Mot hummed and ran a finger down his soft cheek. He wondered if he could find a playmate and have some fun while he had the use of this intriguing body. He couldn’t let it get damaged, of course, but getting it laid shouldn’t hurt.
Another collection of vending machines lined his path and he peeked at the wares they were selling as he swaggered along. He paused in front of the second one and hummed happily. Ice cream! He dug his hands into his pockets and pulled out a few coins, picking through and finding two 100 coins to feed to the machine. A moment later he had a chocolate creamsicle to enjoy with his beer.
The creamsicle didn’t last long; Mot was finishing the last few lumps of vanilla ice cream and licking the stick clean as he found the stairs to Bakura Ryou’s apartment. He tossed the stick aside carelessly and took another sip of his beer, then laughed at how bitter it tasted after the ice cream.
He shifted the beer into his left hand and searched for his keys as he climbed the steps. He pulled them out and twirled them around his finger by the key-ring and took another sip, coming to the top of the stairs. He paused when he got there and tilted his head curiously. Someone was crouched down next to Bakura Ryou’s door. Mot tilted his head a little more as he walked up the balcony, trying to see the figure’s face and whether he could match it to anybody in Bakura Ryou’s memories.
The figure looked up sharply at Mot when it noticed his presence and recognition flipped on a light switch in his mind. Hirutani Kanaye. Mot grinned widely and gave a gleeful little hop. “Well shit! Happy birthday to me!” he giggled.
“What the fuck are you on about?” Hirutani snarled, glaring at him. The boy had a split-lip and some very noticeable bruising on his face. The Pharaoh’s work, perhaps? “Open the goddamned door, Ryou,” he commanded, delighting Mot with his false bravado.
Mot laughed and leaned down, catching the front of the boy’s coat with one hand as he held his beer at a safe distance with the other, and dragging the startled-looking teenager easily to his feet. “Oh, Ryou’s not home right now, honey, but you can play with me!” Mot said, grinning so wide it was painful. “You look like you need a hug!”
...
...
* Yankee is used to refer to street-gang teenagers.
A/N:
I’ve pretty much brought this fic full-circle now, back into the canon time-line here. I guess I’ll write a little short chapter/teaser kind of thing for what’s going on in school the next day here, because I can’t exactly leave Yuugi wandering around his canon self like this didn’t happen... but I’m going to be starting a new fic for taking this into the Millennium World series.