Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ A Shovel And Some Faith ❯ Chapter 5
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: whosjeebus 
"So. Someone's gone and offed your little lapdog, and you want ME to track down the killer."
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological / Drama / Suspense | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 08.06.2005 | Updated On: 08.30.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.7K | Visits: 237 | Status: Work In Progress
"So. Someone's gone and offed your little lapdog, and you want ME to track down the killer."
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological / Drama / Suspense | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 08.06.2005 | Updated On: 08.30.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 3.7K | Visits: 237 | Status: Work In Progress
Title: A Shovel And Some Faith - Chapter 5/10
Author: whosjeebus
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Seto/Jou, other surprise pairings
Beta: Jennie B. (she's crunchy outside - with a delicious chewy center!)
Spoilers: None! I'm so far A/U I'll never find my way back! OK. Kidding. Calm down, will ya? Techinically, it's NOT an A/U, alright? Sheesh.
Warnings: Read at your own risk. Seriously. This fic contains situations of a decidedly grotesque nature. If you get squicked, and STILL keep reading, don't blame me for your nightmares. I warned ya. I will say no more. **looks shifty-eyed**
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh, and probably never will. Kazuki Takahashi will most likely take a hit out on me if he ever reads this fic.
Summary: Seto's kinks have steadily become more and more extreme, much to Jounouchi's dismay. Has he finally gone TOO far with his latest fetish?
*** Author's Notes *** As there were no responses to the contest, the answers will not be posted at this time. If you're interested in finding out the results, please go to: http://www.livejournal.com/users/whosjeebus/11089.html. Enjoy the chapter!
~~~~~~~~~~*****~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 5:
(Saturday Afternoon)
Ryou blinked furiously, unsure exactly how he should react. He glanced idly down at the hand that had fallen on his shoulder, reasonably certain that its presence was meant to be reassuring, but he was wholly unable to regard it with anything but dread. Somehow, surely, he'd misheard the words that hung heavily in the air between them. It was obviously some sort of sick joke. It HAD to be. "You need to speak with... with BAKURA? But, why? Pharaoh, what's wrong?"
Yami knew he wouldn't be able to further his goals without some sort of explanation, and Ryou, of all people, certainly deserved one. Yugi was so much better at these types of things, at sparing other's feelings, and Yami's own grief was too new, too RAW to do more than make pointless gestures. "Ryou, I think perhaps you should sit down for -- "
"Tell me what's HAPPENED!" The taller boy's voice was already slightly hysterical, the words wavering audibly as he took a slow step backwards, jerking his shoulder out from under his friend's comforting touch.
Yami turned away from Ryou's accusing eyes and closed the door behind him. The sigh he released made him sound as old as the Pyramids themselves, even to his own ears. Despite all his responsibilities, all his previous duties as Pharaoh, he just didn't know how to DO this... "Jounouchi's dead," he said at last, not daring to look up. "He's been murdered."
Ryou staggered backwards, shaking his head in fierce denial. This wasn't happening. He'd fallen asleep at his computer again, or while he was reading in bed. It was the only explanation for something this bizarre. Friends didn't just show up at your door and tell you that another friend had been MURDERED. It just didn't happen; especially not to Jou, not after he'd finally -- Ryou's heels came in contact with the bottom steps of the staircase and he stumbled backwards, making no effort to catch himself as he collapsed in a boneless heap. He stared sightlessly up at the small chandelier hanging above the stairwell, dimly registering a voice calling his name urgently, but it sounded as if it was coming from across some great distance or unconquerable divide. His vision narrowed to the barest pinpoint of light as a rushing sound filled his ears. Then he knew no more.
~~~~~~~~~~*****~~~~~~~~~~
(Last Saturday Night)
Ryou sat nervously on the couch downstairs in his den, a bowl of popcorn the only thing separating him from the boy to his left. Jounouchi was oblivious to his friend's turmoil, his bright brown eyes affixed firmly to the huge flat screen monitor across the room. Ryou studied the blond's profile, drinking down his beloved features as if they were water to a man dying of thirst. He'd waited so LONG for this very moment; he could hardly bear the thought of backing out now, not after all he'd PLANNED...
"Coward, " a cold voice sneered in the back of his head, and Ryou jumped a little. The Millennium Ring was upstairs in his bedroom, sealed safely in a box of magical design, and he knew what he was hearing could only be a ghostly echo of his former tormentor. Nevertheless, there were times when he wondered how much of himself Bakura had actually managed to leave behind in the dark recesses of his mind. It sometimes seemed as though he had an ever-present reminder of the atrocities he'd unwittingly committed while under the dark spirit's control, and Ryou hated the helpless feeling that accompanied his inability to completely eradicate the lingering traces of malevolence. How his friends could forgive him after the things he'd put them through...
Jounouchi laughed delightedly at some amusing on-screen antics, and he turned briefly to flash Ryou a brilliant smile before his attention was stolen once more. Ryou felt his heart and stomach clench involuntarily with longing. He had nothing to lose and so MUCH to gain... Snatching the bowl of popcorn up and setting it on the coffee table next to Jounouchi's stockinged feet, he sidled closer to the other boy until their hips were just touching. Reaching over, he settled his right palm against Jou's cheek, sucking in a trembling breath as his own cool hand made contact with the object of his desire's warm flesh.
Jounouchi turned again to face him, brows furrowed in friendly puzzlement. "Ryou ...?"
Before he lost his nerve, the white-haired teen struck, bolting forward and pressing his lips against Jou's as he brought one leg over to straddle the blond's waist, his hands settling on Jounouchi's firm, narrow shoulders. He wrapped his arms around the tousled golden head, pulling him in closer and putting every ounce of the barely restrained passion he felt into the kiss, feeding all the love and desire that burned within him straight into this intimate contact, willing Jounouchi to respond in kind.
Jounouchi sat up abruptly in surprise, bringing their two groins into even closer contact as Ryou continued to ravage his mouth like a man possessed. Jou let his eyes slip closed blissfully, carried away on the current of intense sensation and heartbreaking tenderness. He opened his mouth to allow entrance to Ryou's questing tongue, his hands closing reflexively on the other boy's hips, a groan escaping the confines of his throat. God, how easy it would be to lose himself in this, to forget about everything else -- all the pain, all the wasted effort and useless denial. He knew Ryou would be tender, gentle, and sweet. A perfect lover and a perfect match - loving him completely with his open, kind heart and generous nature, giving all of himself and holding nothing back. Maybe, with time, Jou could learn to do the same for Ryou.
Reacting purely on instinct, Jounouchi pressed his burgeoning erection against the other boy's answering hardness. He smirked faintly into the passionate kiss as he heard Ryou moan low in his throat. One slender hand left Jounouchi's hair and began a hesitant journey up the front of the blond's t-shirt, and Jounouchi was unable to supress his helpless shudder when those cool fingers tentatively brushed over one nipple. Suddenly, hard, impossibly blue eyes that were filled with contempt swam up out of the darkness behind his closed eyelids, and a hauntingly cold voice sneered at Jou's foolish optimism. "You don't actually believe you DESERVE to be cared for like that, do you, Mutt?" Heat and shame suffused his senses as he wrenched his mouth away from Ryou's with a strangled sound of dismay. What the hell was he thinking? This couldn't happen. It just - it COULDN'T.
"Jounouchi, what's wrong? Was it something I did? I'm sorry; I'm not very experienced with this, but I thought - "
"It's not you Ryou, it's - " What could he say here to explain his actions? There WAS no explanation for his "relationship" with Kaiba. It just WAS. No amount of excuses would make it seem reasonable or right. But it was all he had, and God help him, it was all he wanted. "My... heart... belongs to someone else." He found himself unable to meet Ryou's anguished face as the heartbroken boy climbed out of his lap and off of the couch. He moved to stand above Jou, looking down on him in disbelief, trembling with hurt and anger.
"Who?" he demanded icily, his fists clenched down by his sides, his slender frame shaking with barely suppressed rage. Tears flowed unchecked down his cheeks, but he paid them no mind.
"I - I can't tell you that." Jou hung his head and swallowed around the lump in his throat. As a close friend, Ryou deserved better than this, but it was all the consolation he could offer. "Ryou, for what it's worth, I'm sorry. Truly sorry."
"Sorry?! You're not going to offer me anything except SORRY?" He barked a harsh laugh as he whirled away from Jounouchi to stand by the stairs with his arms crossed defensively over his chest. "Why should I even believe you?"
Jou looked up. Tears brimmed in his own eyes; he felt wretched and barely human, but he hadn't expected that Ryou would push the issue this hard. "It's... complicated. You're my friend, Ryou, and I don't want anything to happen to - "
Ryou heard the word "friend" and he shut down, shuttering his face, if not his heart. That would come later, when he was alone once more. "Whatever. It's late, and I think you should just go."
Nodding solemnly, Jou grabbed his sneakers from beside the couch and slipped them on, carefully keeping his face averted. He bounded up the stairs, two at a time as Ryou followed closely on his heels. Exiting silently under Ryou's dark gaze, he pulled the door shut after him and started down the walkway. Loud, ragged sobs erupted behind the closed door and Jou paused, turning back toward the house. Then that oh-so-familiar voice spoke up from within, deciding him once and for all. "You'll only make it worse, Mutt. He's better off with you out of his life, anyway. You already know where YOU belong."
Shrugging his shoulders and feeling around in his pockets for change, Jou jogged down the block and into the nearest phone booth, shivering in the cold air. He dialed a number he knew by heart and waited for an answer, his body hunched around the receiver as he watched his breath cloud the air inside the narrow space.
"Kaiba."
"Hey, it's me. Are you busy?"
A pause.
"Why? Did your precious "plans" for the evening fall through and now you've decided to come crawling back?"
Jounouchi sighed. He'd expected much worse; still did, actually. "I don't want to get into that right now, Seto. I just wanted to know if you might be up for hittin' the uh, club, tonight. I'm free all of a sudden and there was somethin' that I wanted to ask you to do there. A... request of sorts." Jou held his breath. Kaiba could be contrary on a GOOD day, and Jou had given him plenty of incentive lately to be LESS than accommodating. But surely he wouldn't turn down a visit to -
"Alright Puppy, consider it granted. I'll be leaving the office in about ten minutes. Meet me at the mansion." Jou opened his mouth to ask a question, but he'd already been hung up on. Dismissed as usual, he thought wryly. Not that it mattered; he was going to make sure that tonight wasn't about what he wanted at all. Tonight would be about penance and absolution. Would it be enough?
He stepped back outside into the frigid darkness, his face impassive as he slumped to the ground and rested his back against the glass. Kaiba would take care of this ache inside him; give him what he needed, what he deserved. He stared up at the night sky and realized that the stars held little wonder for him anymore. The thought should have made him sad, but sadness would have felt out of place alongside all the emptiness. He thought about the people close to him -- his friends, Shizuka, Ryou -- the people that he cared for more than life itself; the people who cared for him in return and only wound up getting hurt. Maybe, someday soon, Kaiba would make sure he never hurt anyone else.
~~~~~~~~~~*****~~~~~~~~~~
"Ryou? Ryou, can you hear me? Please say something."
The first thing he became aware of, after the pharaoh's disembodied voice, was the touch of a cool, wet cloth against his forehead. He opened his eyes to regard the ceiling of his bedroom, and Yami's anxious face as it hovered over him. Ryou reached up and grasped the other boy's wrist as it moved to smooth the washcloth across his brow again. He swallowed before he spoke, unsure if his voice would hold. "He's really gone?"
Yami nodded, his eyes downcast. "I need Bakura's help to find the killer. The police can do nothing." He looked up, his eyes now fierce and burning. "You know I wouldn't ask this lightly. I don't know of another way."
"I wasn't going to try and talk you out of it. I just wanted you to be sure." Ryou stood up, crossing over to his dresser and opening the engraved wooden box resting there. His eyes lingered briefly on a framed photo sitting next to it; Jou's smiling face peered up at him from behind the glass, all cheeky grin with one hand prominently flashing his trademark "V" for victory. Ryou fingered the spikes on the Millennium Ring thoughtfully as he sat back down on the bed. "I take it you've found some means of controlling him?"
The pharaoh nodded, a sad smile playing across his lips. "As Jounouchi would say, I have an 'ace up my sleeve'."
Ryou closed his eyes, pained by this gentle reminder. There was only one sure way of escaping the grief he felt; one way to banish the guilt that consumed him from the inside out, eating him alive. His mind tortured him with echoes of the previous Saturday; the last words he'd ever spoken to Jounouchi, spat out under the influence of anger and jealousy. He'd never get another chance to make it right, to fix things between them so that someday they might -- NO!! His teeth closed over his bottom lip, biting down hard until he felt the flesh give and the iron tang of blood filled his mouth. He was of no help to anyone like this. He'd do what he had to, even if it served his own selfish purpose of running away from the pain.
He slid his hand over to grasp Yami's, twining their fingers together for a moment before slipping the chain of the Millennium Ring over his head. "Good luck, pharaoh," he breathed. He felt the first familiar stirrings of a separate consciousness overtake him; his body felt suffused with power, and he gave himself over to the ecstasy of it. Flashing lights, crackling electrical bursts and a fierce wind that seemed to come up out of the ground itself, smelling faintly of sand and aged, exotic spices surrounded him. He fought the ancient spirit out of instinct, knowing he'd never bested him before and putting up only a token effort even now. He imagined it was rather like throwing oneself off a bridge chained by the ankle to a large rock - his body struggled only because it desired survival. Maniacal laughter took the place of these thoughts as his consciousness receded with nausea-inducing speed. He gave up one swift prayer to any god that would listen, hoping against hope that he was doing the right thing, and then Ryou was gone.
Bakura leapt off the bed and glared down at Yami with his malevolent, angular eyes. He immediately assumed a fighting stance and levelled his best sneer at his ancient enemy. "Pharaoh," he sneered, "To what do I owe the honour of this little visit? Come to TRY and finally do away with me?"
Yami stood slowly, regally. His stern countenance betrayed none of the anguish he felt within. He knew he had to handle this carefully, and with every ounce of authority he could muster, or disaster would surely ensue. "Ryou and I have released you from the Ring willingly, Tomb Robber, to ask for your help."
"A favour, eh? What's to stop me from walking out the door right now?"
"The knowledge that I would hunt you down and destroy you without a second thought. You exist to this day only because ~ I ~ allow it. Assist me in this, and your co-operation won't go unrewarded."
Bakura wrinkled his forehead in thought as he pried at Ryou's memories, accessing the surface emotions and recent interactions of his host. He smirked as he turned his attention back on the pharaoh.
"So. Someone's gone and offed your little lapdog, and you want ME to track down the killer. I should have known it would be something so pathetic that you couldn't handle it yourself."
He glanced down at himself and grimaced, rolling his eyes. He gracefully whirled away and began suddenly disrobing, pulling at Ryou's pastel blue shirt in disgust.
"So what's in it for ME if say yes?"
He rummaged around in his lighter half's oversized walk-in closet, tossing clothes around haphazardly. A pair of faded jeans flew out, smacking the other boy in the face with a solid "whap!"
Yami peeled the pants away from his face distastefully. He could tell by their warmth that they were the ones just recently removed. He refused to give his rival the satisfaction of visibly shuddering. "What would you say if I told you that Isis and Malik have discovered a way for our spirits to have their own physical bodies?"
Bakura stuck his head outside the closet, fastening a pair of black jeans around his hips. "I'd say you were full of shit." He grabbed a black t-shirt from Ryou's dresser drawer and slipped his arms and head through. "If that were true, you would've done it already."
With a condescending smile, Yami approached until the two were standing mere centimeters apart, almost touching. "My reasons are my own, but I WILL tell you this: Yugi and I are two halves of the same soul. We're together because we each balance the other. My hikari needs me, and I him. Especially right now. I'm sure it's nothing that YOU would understand, despite the fact that Ryou's light could shed some warmth on that black abyss you call a soul. Regardless, it CAN be done, and I'd be willing to show you how, may Ra have mercy on me."
The white-haired spirit seemed to consider this, perhaps gauging what he knew of the pharaoh's past along with his words. At last he spoke, apparently decided. "I believe you. You're just pathetic enough to actually WANT to be stuck with that shrimp. ME, on the other hand... I can't wait to ditch this pansy." He laughed; a cold, shivery sound that would have made a lesser man flinch. Bakura's expression turned serious. "We'll strike a bargain here today, Pharaoh. I'll keep my end of it if you keep yours."
"Agreed." Yami extended a hand to his former enemy, and the tomb robber reached out to solemnly grasp forearms with his fellow spirit. "Use whatever means necessary to find Jounouchi's murderer. Do NOT think this leniency extends to the injury of the innocent or the destruction of property. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal. I assume you'll want to know if I uncover any suspects, correct?" At Yami's nod, Bakura pressed further. "And if I'm captured, you'll deny any knowledge of my mission and/or existence. Blah, blah, et cetera. Lighten up, Your Majesty," he mocked, "I know what I'm doing. You don't have to be so melodramatic all the damn time. I'll be sure to report in if I find out anything...useful."
Choosing to ignore the white-haired spirit's taunts, the pharaoh turned to leave. As he descended the stairs, he called over his shoulder, "Oh, and Bakura? I suggest you begin your search at the police station. A Detective Youko has proven himself very... compliant in answering questions. I'm sure you'll come up with a number of ways to extract information that I never even thought of."
Bakura slipped a pair of heavy, black leather boots on his feet one-handed as he hurried to catch up with the departing monarch. "One more thing, Pharaoh. WHEN I catch the killer, am I free to deal with him myself, using "any means necessary", as you so eloquently put it?"
Yami stared straight ahead as he reached for the knob on the front door. His lips compressed in a thin line, and he answered grimly, "Just make him suffer." And with that he exited the house, closing the door behind him with an ominous click.
A darkly beatific smile broke over Bakura's pale face as he gazed down the steps. His sharp teeth gleamed faintly in the dim light. "Perfect."
~~~~~~~~~~*****~~~~~~~~~~
tbc
Author: whosjeebus
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Seto/Jou, other surprise pairings
Beta: Jennie B. (she's crunchy outside - with a delicious chewy center!)
Spoilers: None! I'm so far A/U I'll never find my way back! OK. Kidding. Calm down, will ya? Techinically, it's NOT an A/U, alright? Sheesh.
Warnings: Read at your own risk. Seriously. This fic contains situations of a decidedly grotesque nature. If you get squicked, and STILL keep reading, don't blame me for your nightmares. I warned ya. I will say no more. **looks shifty-eyed**
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh, and probably never will. Kazuki Takahashi will most likely take a hit out on me if he ever reads this fic.
Summary: Seto's kinks have steadily become more and more extreme, much to Jounouchi's dismay. Has he finally gone TOO far with his latest fetish?
*** Author's Notes *** As there were no responses to the contest, the answers will not be posted at this time. If you're interested in finding out the results, please go to: http://www.livejournal.com/users/whosjeebus/11089.html. Enjoy the chapter!
~~~~~~~~~~*****~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 5:
(Saturday Afternoon)
Ryou blinked furiously, unsure exactly how he should react. He glanced idly down at the hand that had fallen on his shoulder, reasonably certain that its presence was meant to be reassuring, but he was wholly unable to regard it with anything but dread. Somehow, surely, he'd misheard the words that hung heavily in the air between them. It was obviously some sort of sick joke. It HAD to be. "You need to speak with... with BAKURA? But, why? Pharaoh, what's wrong?"
Yami knew he wouldn't be able to further his goals without some sort of explanation, and Ryou, of all people, certainly deserved one. Yugi was so much better at these types of things, at sparing other's feelings, and Yami's own grief was too new, too RAW to do more than make pointless gestures. "Ryou, I think perhaps you should sit down for -- "
"Tell me what's HAPPENED!" The taller boy's voice was already slightly hysterical, the words wavering audibly as he took a slow step backwards, jerking his shoulder out from under his friend's comforting touch.
Yami turned away from Ryou's accusing eyes and closed the door behind him. The sigh he released made him sound as old as the Pyramids themselves, even to his own ears. Despite all his responsibilities, all his previous duties as Pharaoh, he just didn't know how to DO this... "Jounouchi's dead," he said at last, not daring to look up. "He's been murdered."
Ryou staggered backwards, shaking his head in fierce denial. This wasn't happening. He'd fallen asleep at his computer again, or while he was reading in bed. It was the only explanation for something this bizarre. Friends didn't just show up at your door and tell you that another friend had been MURDERED. It just didn't happen; especially not to Jou, not after he'd finally -- Ryou's heels came in contact with the bottom steps of the staircase and he stumbled backwards, making no effort to catch himself as he collapsed in a boneless heap. He stared sightlessly up at the small chandelier hanging above the stairwell, dimly registering a voice calling his name urgently, but it sounded as if it was coming from across some great distance or unconquerable divide. His vision narrowed to the barest pinpoint of light as a rushing sound filled his ears. Then he knew no more.
~~~~~~~~~~*****~~~~~~~~~~
(Last Saturday Night)
Ryou sat nervously on the couch downstairs in his den, a bowl of popcorn the only thing separating him from the boy to his left. Jounouchi was oblivious to his friend's turmoil, his bright brown eyes affixed firmly to the huge flat screen monitor across the room. Ryou studied the blond's profile, drinking down his beloved features as if they were water to a man dying of thirst. He'd waited so LONG for this very moment; he could hardly bear the thought of backing out now, not after all he'd PLANNED...
"Coward, " a cold voice sneered in the back of his head, and Ryou jumped a little. The Millennium Ring was upstairs in his bedroom, sealed safely in a box of magical design, and he knew what he was hearing could only be a ghostly echo of his former tormentor. Nevertheless, there were times when he wondered how much of himself Bakura had actually managed to leave behind in the dark recesses of his mind. It sometimes seemed as though he had an ever-present reminder of the atrocities he'd unwittingly committed while under the dark spirit's control, and Ryou hated the helpless feeling that accompanied his inability to completely eradicate the lingering traces of malevolence. How his friends could forgive him after the things he'd put them through...
Jounouchi laughed delightedly at some amusing on-screen antics, and he turned briefly to flash Ryou a brilliant smile before his attention was stolen once more. Ryou felt his heart and stomach clench involuntarily with longing. He had nothing to lose and so MUCH to gain... Snatching the bowl of popcorn up and setting it on the coffee table next to Jounouchi's stockinged feet, he sidled closer to the other boy until their hips were just touching. Reaching over, he settled his right palm against Jou's cheek, sucking in a trembling breath as his own cool hand made contact with the object of his desire's warm flesh.
Jounouchi turned again to face him, brows furrowed in friendly puzzlement. "Ryou ...?"
Before he lost his nerve, the white-haired teen struck, bolting forward and pressing his lips against Jou's as he brought one leg over to straddle the blond's waist, his hands settling on Jounouchi's firm, narrow shoulders. He wrapped his arms around the tousled golden head, pulling him in closer and putting every ounce of the barely restrained passion he felt into the kiss, feeding all the love and desire that burned within him straight into this intimate contact, willing Jounouchi to respond in kind.
Jounouchi sat up abruptly in surprise, bringing their two groins into even closer contact as Ryou continued to ravage his mouth like a man possessed. Jou let his eyes slip closed blissfully, carried away on the current of intense sensation and heartbreaking tenderness. He opened his mouth to allow entrance to Ryou's questing tongue, his hands closing reflexively on the other boy's hips, a groan escaping the confines of his throat. God, how easy it would be to lose himself in this, to forget about everything else -- all the pain, all the wasted effort and useless denial. He knew Ryou would be tender, gentle, and sweet. A perfect lover and a perfect match - loving him completely with his open, kind heart and generous nature, giving all of himself and holding nothing back. Maybe, with time, Jou could learn to do the same for Ryou.
Reacting purely on instinct, Jounouchi pressed his burgeoning erection against the other boy's answering hardness. He smirked faintly into the passionate kiss as he heard Ryou moan low in his throat. One slender hand left Jounouchi's hair and began a hesitant journey up the front of the blond's t-shirt, and Jounouchi was unable to supress his helpless shudder when those cool fingers tentatively brushed over one nipple. Suddenly, hard, impossibly blue eyes that were filled with contempt swam up out of the darkness behind his closed eyelids, and a hauntingly cold voice sneered at Jou's foolish optimism. "You don't actually believe you DESERVE to be cared for like that, do you, Mutt?" Heat and shame suffused his senses as he wrenched his mouth away from Ryou's with a strangled sound of dismay. What the hell was he thinking? This couldn't happen. It just - it COULDN'T.
"Jounouchi, what's wrong? Was it something I did? I'm sorry; I'm not very experienced with this, but I thought - "
"It's not you Ryou, it's - " What could he say here to explain his actions? There WAS no explanation for his "relationship" with Kaiba. It just WAS. No amount of excuses would make it seem reasonable or right. But it was all he had, and God help him, it was all he wanted. "My... heart... belongs to someone else." He found himself unable to meet Ryou's anguished face as the heartbroken boy climbed out of his lap and off of the couch. He moved to stand above Jou, looking down on him in disbelief, trembling with hurt and anger.
"Who?" he demanded icily, his fists clenched down by his sides, his slender frame shaking with barely suppressed rage. Tears flowed unchecked down his cheeks, but he paid them no mind.
"I - I can't tell you that." Jou hung his head and swallowed around the lump in his throat. As a close friend, Ryou deserved better than this, but it was all the consolation he could offer. "Ryou, for what it's worth, I'm sorry. Truly sorry."
"Sorry?! You're not going to offer me anything except SORRY?" He barked a harsh laugh as he whirled away from Jounouchi to stand by the stairs with his arms crossed defensively over his chest. "Why should I even believe you?"
Jou looked up. Tears brimmed in his own eyes; he felt wretched and barely human, but he hadn't expected that Ryou would push the issue this hard. "It's... complicated. You're my friend, Ryou, and I don't want anything to happen to - "
Ryou heard the word "friend" and he shut down, shuttering his face, if not his heart. That would come later, when he was alone once more. "Whatever. It's late, and I think you should just go."
Nodding solemnly, Jou grabbed his sneakers from beside the couch and slipped them on, carefully keeping his face averted. He bounded up the stairs, two at a time as Ryou followed closely on his heels. Exiting silently under Ryou's dark gaze, he pulled the door shut after him and started down the walkway. Loud, ragged sobs erupted behind the closed door and Jou paused, turning back toward the house. Then that oh-so-familiar voice spoke up from within, deciding him once and for all. "You'll only make it worse, Mutt. He's better off with you out of his life, anyway. You already know where YOU belong."
Shrugging his shoulders and feeling around in his pockets for change, Jou jogged down the block and into the nearest phone booth, shivering in the cold air. He dialed a number he knew by heart and waited for an answer, his body hunched around the receiver as he watched his breath cloud the air inside the narrow space.
"Kaiba."
"Hey, it's me. Are you busy?"
A pause.
"Why? Did your precious "plans" for the evening fall through and now you've decided to come crawling back?"
Jounouchi sighed. He'd expected much worse; still did, actually. "I don't want to get into that right now, Seto. I just wanted to know if you might be up for hittin' the uh, club, tonight. I'm free all of a sudden and there was somethin' that I wanted to ask you to do there. A... request of sorts." Jou held his breath. Kaiba could be contrary on a GOOD day, and Jou had given him plenty of incentive lately to be LESS than accommodating. But surely he wouldn't turn down a visit to -
"Alright Puppy, consider it granted. I'll be leaving the office in about ten minutes. Meet me at the mansion." Jou opened his mouth to ask a question, but he'd already been hung up on. Dismissed as usual, he thought wryly. Not that it mattered; he was going to make sure that tonight wasn't about what he wanted at all. Tonight would be about penance and absolution. Would it be enough?
He stepped back outside into the frigid darkness, his face impassive as he slumped to the ground and rested his back against the glass. Kaiba would take care of this ache inside him; give him what he needed, what he deserved. He stared up at the night sky and realized that the stars held little wonder for him anymore. The thought should have made him sad, but sadness would have felt out of place alongside all the emptiness. He thought about the people close to him -- his friends, Shizuka, Ryou -- the people that he cared for more than life itself; the people who cared for him in return and only wound up getting hurt. Maybe, someday soon, Kaiba would make sure he never hurt anyone else.
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"Ryou? Ryou, can you hear me? Please say something."
The first thing he became aware of, after the pharaoh's disembodied voice, was the touch of a cool, wet cloth against his forehead. He opened his eyes to regard the ceiling of his bedroom, and Yami's anxious face as it hovered over him. Ryou reached up and grasped the other boy's wrist as it moved to smooth the washcloth across his brow again. He swallowed before he spoke, unsure if his voice would hold. "He's really gone?"
Yami nodded, his eyes downcast. "I need Bakura's help to find the killer. The police can do nothing." He looked up, his eyes now fierce and burning. "You know I wouldn't ask this lightly. I don't know of another way."
"I wasn't going to try and talk you out of it. I just wanted you to be sure." Ryou stood up, crossing over to his dresser and opening the engraved wooden box resting there. His eyes lingered briefly on a framed photo sitting next to it; Jou's smiling face peered up at him from behind the glass, all cheeky grin with one hand prominently flashing his trademark "V" for victory. Ryou fingered the spikes on the Millennium Ring thoughtfully as he sat back down on the bed. "I take it you've found some means of controlling him?"
The pharaoh nodded, a sad smile playing across his lips. "As Jounouchi would say, I have an 'ace up my sleeve'."
Ryou closed his eyes, pained by this gentle reminder. There was only one sure way of escaping the grief he felt; one way to banish the guilt that consumed him from the inside out, eating him alive. His mind tortured him with echoes of the previous Saturday; the last words he'd ever spoken to Jounouchi, spat out under the influence of anger and jealousy. He'd never get another chance to make it right, to fix things between them so that someday they might -- NO!! His teeth closed over his bottom lip, biting down hard until he felt the flesh give and the iron tang of blood filled his mouth. He was of no help to anyone like this. He'd do what he had to, even if it served his own selfish purpose of running away from the pain.
He slid his hand over to grasp Yami's, twining their fingers together for a moment before slipping the chain of the Millennium Ring over his head. "Good luck, pharaoh," he breathed. He felt the first familiar stirrings of a separate consciousness overtake him; his body felt suffused with power, and he gave himself over to the ecstasy of it. Flashing lights, crackling electrical bursts and a fierce wind that seemed to come up out of the ground itself, smelling faintly of sand and aged, exotic spices surrounded him. He fought the ancient spirit out of instinct, knowing he'd never bested him before and putting up only a token effort even now. He imagined it was rather like throwing oneself off a bridge chained by the ankle to a large rock - his body struggled only because it desired survival. Maniacal laughter took the place of these thoughts as his consciousness receded with nausea-inducing speed. He gave up one swift prayer to any god that would listen, hoping against hope that he was doing the right thing, and then Ryou was gone.
Bakura leapt off the bed and glared down at Yami with his malevolent, angular eyes. He immediately assumed a fighting stance and levelled his best sneer at his ancient enemy. "Pharaoh," he sneered, "To what do I owe the honour of this little visit? Come to TRY and finally do away with me?"
Yami stood slowly, regally. His stern countenance betrayed none of the anguish he felt within. He knew he had to handle this carefully, and with every ounce of authority he could muster, or disaster would surely ensue. "Ryou and I have released you from the Ring willingly, Tomb Robber, to ask for your help."
"A favour, eh? What's to stop me from walking out the door right now?"
"The knowledge that I would hunt you down and destroy you without a second thought. You exist to this day only because ~ I ~ allow it. Assist me in this, and your co-operation won't go unrewarded."
Bakura wrinkled his forehead in thought as he pried at Ryou's memories, accessing the surface emotions and recent interactions of his host. He smirked as he turned his attention back on the pharaoh.
"So. Someone's gone and offed your little lapdog, and you want ME to track down the killer. I should have known it would be something so pathetic that you couldn't handle it yourself."
He glanced down at himself and grimaced, rolling his eyes. He gracefully whirled away and began suddenly disrobing, pulling at Ryou's pastel blue shirt in disgust.
"So what's in it for ME if say yes?"
He rummaged around in his lighter half's oversized walk-in closet, tossing clothes around haphazardly. A pair of faded jeans flew out, smacking the other boy in the face with a solid "whap!"
Yami peeled the pants away from his face distastefully. He could tell by their warmth that they were the ones just recently removed. He refused to give his rival the satisfaction of visibly shuddering. "What would you say if I told you that Isis and Malik have discovered a way for our spirits to have their own physical bodies?"
Bakura stuck his head outside the closet, fastening a pair of black jeans around his hips. "I'd say you were full of shit." He grabbed a black t-shirt from Ryou's dresser drawer and slipped his arms and head through. "If that were true, you would've done it already."
With a condescending smile, Yami approached until the two were standing mere centimeters apart, almost touching. "My reasons are my own, but I WILL tell you this: Yugi and I are two halves of the same soul. We're together because we each balance the other. My hikari needs me, and I him. Especially right now. I'm sure it's nothing that YOU would understand, despite the fact that Ryou's light could shed some warmth on that black abyss you call a soul. Regardless, it CAN be done, and I'd be willing to show you how, may Ra have mercy on me."
The white-haired spirit seemed to consider this, perhaps gauging what he knew of the pharaoh's past along with his words. At last he spoke, apparently decided. "I believe you. You're just pathetic enough to actually WANT to be stuck with that shrimp. ME, on the other hand... I can't wait to ditch this pansy." He laughed; a cold, shivery sound that would have made a lesser man flinch. Bakura's expression turned serious. "We'll strike a bargain here today, Pharaoh. I'll keep my end of it if you keep yours."
"Agreed." Yami extended a hand to his former enemy, and the tomb robber reached out to solemnly grasp forearms with his fellow spirit. "Use whatever means necessary to find Jounouchi's murderer. Do NOT think this leniency extends to the injury of the innocent or the destruction of property. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal. I assume you'll want to know if I uncover any suspects, correct?" At Yami's nod, Bakura pressed further. "And if I'm captured, you'll deny any knowledge of my mission and/or existence. Blah, blah, et cetera. Lighten up, Your Majesty," he mocked, "I know what I'm doing. You don't have to be so melodramatic all the damn time. I'll be sure to report in if I find out anything...useful."
Choosing to ignore the white-haired spirit's taunts, the pharaoh turned to leave. As he descended the stairs, he called over his shoulder, "Oh, and Bakura? I suggest you begin your search at the police station. A Detective Youko has proven himself very... compliant in answering questions. I'm sure you'll come up with a number of ways to extract information that I never even thought of."
Bakura slipped a pair of heavy, black leather boots on his feet one-handed as he hurried to catch up with the departing monarch. "One more thing, Pharaoh. WHEN I catch the killer, am I free to deal with him myself, using "any means necessary", as you so eloquently put it?"
Yami stared straight ahead as he reached for the knob on the front door. His lips compressed in a thin line, and he answered grimly, "Just make him suffer." And with that he exited the house, closing the door behind him with an ominous click.
A darkly beatific smile broke over Bakura's pale face as he gazed down the steps. His sharp teeth gleamed faintly in the dim light. "Perfect."
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tbc