Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Can You Love Me? ❯ Letting Go ( Chapter 2 )

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Ryou swallowed, throat squeezing shut as he watched himself on the blade's surface. The flawless, silver grinned at him, glinting into brown eyes. The light tore his gaze from the knife and shut his lids tightly, hands trembling as they fisted.

`Damn you, Bakura! Why did you forget it?' he tried to crawl away, but found his legs chose to ignore him. `Get up, Ryou! Just get up and walk away…' His eyes fluttered open and slowly began caressing the blade with their gaze. `Well…I could just put it away…' Eyes rimmed with tears as he gripped the black handle. Why didn't he have to force himself to hold it? Why did the knife feel so good in his hands? Why wasn't he afraid of himself, knowing full well that thoughts did not sit idle when one was desperate.

Was he desperate? Perhaps, but desperate for what? His cold fingers danced across the steel, the hairsplitting edge nicking a digit. He watched the droplet lace his finger and licked it away. Ryou smirked; maybe his dark was beginning to rub off on him? `Hmmm…not bad…' the chocolate eyes took notice of the red tinged blade, scarlet reflection staring back. `Eh, what the hell.' He shrugged, swiping his tongue over the cold metal and effectively cleaning it. Ryou shuddered in fear and delight; the sensation traveled down his spine and tingled all his senses. It felt as though power throbbed in his veins, heart beating with the need to use such deadly beauty. The dimming light stood and looked to the mirror. His hair was a bit mangled and his eyes held something foreign, a sick need to watch himself fall, crumple to the floor, a broken doll, pale flesh drained, leaving him a mere shadow of the boy he had been.

He smiled grimly; perhaps fate had taken pity on him at last? The knife trailed his hand, dipping and tickling the ivory skin. Ryou danced the blade on his wrist, chuckling darkly as he realized he was in control now. He no longer was at the mercy of his dark, pleading for one night without pain, blood, tears. No, he could determine how much he lost.

The edge bit easily through the delicate flesh and blood seeped out quicker than he could have realized. The tainted blade fell, clanging loudly against the tiled floor. Ryou's eyes peeled wide in fear, "What have I done?!" His voice dripped with panic as his wrist did with life. Cold, dark coldness began to envelope him as he frantically looked for a towel, a shirt, anything to stop the bleeding. Ryou began to move sluggishly, head fogging and lids growing very heavy. "Oh, Gods…" he stumbled in the hallway "I-I didn't me-mean to…" the soft carpet caressed his face as he lay there, breath becoming increasingly shallow "B-Bak-kur-ra…"

He really didn't see anything even though his eyes were half closed, he only stared out at nothingness…too tired to speak, too tired to move…too tired to cry. There wasn't any pain though; he thought that was odd, he did after all have a slash on his wrist. Perhaps, hmmm…he said `perhaps' a lot now didn't he? Had he wasted his life on `perhaps'? Thinking only of what could be? Resenting what he hadn't done? Moping over events beyond his ability to change? Probably. He was like that, hm…shouldn't he be saying he `had been'? He was going to die in about…oh let's say a couple minutes. After all, it's not possible to tell time when everything you see, hear, know seems to play by you so slowly, crawling away at a pace you know you should be able to match, but you just can't seem to reach. Ah well, he'd lived right? That's all that mattered? Too bad he hadn't gotten what he always wanted, what was that? Well, he couldn't say, it was his secret. He would take it to the grave…oh, he's dying. He had forgotten that. So apparently it didn't matter what he had wanted because he wouldn't be getting it now and as much as he'd love to believe in an afterlife, that was far too optimistic for his liking.

So what was it exactly that his heart had yearned for? It was hard to describe, but time was running out so he'd better think fast. Was it acceptance? No, he had friends and they had accepted him and his other half, as manic and unstable as he was. What was his name again? Started with a letter, yes, a letter. Letters were funny things you know and writing was just plain freaky if you asked him. Come on, how does your hand know how to form a letter, number, picture? Sure you learned how to do it, but how does your mind not confuse an `A' with a `Z'? You know they're different, but how does your hand know? It's just a bunch of lines, there to confuse all of mankind for all of eternity. Speaking of eternity, how long does it take to die now a day? And who's that yelling? Stop yelling damn it! His head hurt and he didn't need more racket to make it a migraine. Wait, pain? Yes! He felt pain! But how?

An odd warmth laced through out his body, it made him feel better, actually, it made him feel! Although he still could not move, the sudden rush of noise pounded in his ears. "RYOU! RYOU WAKE UP PLEASE!" he recognized that voice; although he had never in his life heard it this frantic. Who was this `Ryou' they were calling for? His head hurt, his back hurt, his wrist hurt…and his ears were worst of all, the sound of someone on the verge of tears and brushing back his white locks was excruciating! "RYOU! CAN YOU HEAR ME? OH RA…PLEASE NO! RYOU!" Why won't this `Ryou' answer who ever it is that's yelling so he can shut up!

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Yami grudgingly trudged to Ryou's house, he didn't feel like going to see Bakura, but his aibou had insisted on Yami telling Ryou the three of them would be unable to meet later that night like they had planned. Yuugi's Grandfather had been invited to see some new artifacts found by one of his dear friends, and Yuugi had been invited too. The light had been so happy, he packed and left, all the while telling Yami to tend to Ryou's visit as soon as possible. Unfortunately, the scarlet-eyed youth had yet to master the telephone, so his talk with Ryou would have to be face to face.

Not that Yami would mind, in fact, he had taken a liking to the soft-spoken boy. The former Pharaoh smiled as he remembered how shy the other seemed around him and sighed as he took into consideration all the pain the white haired angel had been through before Yami had taken care of Bakura. Sure, the bloodsucker was back, but he was better behaved since the last time Yami had sent him to the Shadow Realm.

The tricolor youth soon found himself in front of Ryou's house, knuckles rapping on the door lightly as he waited for a reply. An eerie silence answered and Yami shifted, uncertain as to whether he should go home or walk in. `Maybe he's sleeping?' He knocked again, noticing the door creaked open a few centimeters. Yami slowly pushed the door open and walked in; blinking at the darkness, he looked around and noticed an overturned coffee table and glass scattered on the floor. `Bakura!' Anger flared within Yami as he quickly began to search for the hikari. "Ryou?" He swore to tear that good for nothing excuse for a yami to shreds if there was even a scratch on the docile boy. Seeing there was no one on the first floor, Yami turned to go up the stairs when he noticed a pale hand hanging limply over the top step. "RYOU!" He dashed up the stairs and his eyes widened as he took in the sight. There sprawled awkwardly on the floor was Ryou, the white carpet around him soaked with blood.

Yami began crying out frantically and stroked back the white tendrils that hung in the hikari's face. "OH RA…PLEASE NO!" He pulled the limp, cold body into his lap and hugged it tightly against his chest. Crimson orbs shut tightly as he began to chant an ancient spell in Egyptian, the power of the Millennium Puzzle slowly leaking into the frail body.

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A soft moan passed Ryou's pale lips as he stirred. "Ryou? Can you hear me?" Yami whispered gently, hand brushing back the downy white locks. The magic was working well, the bleeding had stopped, an angry red scar the only proof on the hikari's wrist. The older tilted Ryou's head back so he might breath easier, "Ryou?" Although he knew the boy would live, Yami couldn't help but have a bit of panic swirl amongst his words.

Said Hikari fluttered his eyes open weakly, deep brown gaze settling on Yami, but not registering who it was. "Who?…" His voice came out so quietly, Yami had to bend down to catch the single word that passed those thin lips.

"It's Yami," the tricolor boy gently picked up the fallen angel and stood, careful to make sure the other was securely in his arms. "You're ok now, Ryou…I'll take care of you." Without really thinking about it, Yami placed a feather light kiss on the boy's forehead and watched as the other drifted off to sleep. "I promise…" The ancient spirit walked out of the tainted house, taking the white kitten home.

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