Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Going Under ❯ The Sacrifice ( Chapter 1 )
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
Pain.
That was the first thing he was aware of—pure pain. And then there was something else—a tingly, fuzzy warmth on his chest, like a cat or dog was sitting on it, coupled by the feeling of a little tongue on his cheek.
Bakura blinked and looked around, sitting up. A pure white cat yowled indignantly as it fell off him, twisting and recoiling in thin air and landing on its feet. Bakura ignored it, too busy taking in his surroundings.
Well, this was strange. One second he had been in the Shadow Realm, the next he was…apparently in what seemed to be a building that had collapsed on him.
Why am I still alive? He wondered, for he knew he had to be alive to be able to feel anything. Certainly he had died and returned before, but he had thought it was over.
The Pharaoh had regained his lost name, and Bakura had been defeated for what seemed to be the final time. It seemed that it was never truly meant for him to avenge Kuru Eruna.
Thinking of his village made his chest tighten painfully. Rising with difficulty (and the cat made it even more difficult, purring and rubbing against him like she…it…was), he looked down at himself and gasped.
That wasn't his body! It wasn't even his clothes!
No, he realized, touching the rich crimson fabric of the overcoat and tugging a lock of white hair. It was his body, and his clothes, but from back in Ancient Egypt. He had become so accustomed to Ryou's shorter and weaker body that being in his own body felt strange.
Rising up, he stumbled and almost tripped. He was lucky this body, however injured, was as graceful as a jaguar and much stronger than Ryou's body was.
Thinking lucky made him sigh bitterly. He was anything but lucky and the whole world probably knew it by now. And the whole world also knew that when death finally came, his soul would be headed somewhere very unpleasant.
Why was that stupid cat still rubbing against his ankles?
Looking around, he could see it was indeed the museum they had dueled in—but different. All he saw was dark. It was as if the Shadow Realm had opened up and gulped up the entire world.
Aching limbs suddenly feeling unbearably heavy, Bakura wondered with some panic if he was already in Hell, or whatever it was called.
The injustice of it made him want to scream. Everything he had done was for the sake of his people's souls! All his suffering, all his vengeance…it was all for Kuru Eruna. It was never for him. But none of that mattered now.
All because he was wrong.
The dead Pharaoh Akunamukanon was probably laughing at him from his place in Paradise. Laughing at the white-haired rogue who tried to best his only son over a crime neither of them truly committed.
His brother Akunadin—the one to whom Bakura truly owed his hatred—was probably laughing as well. After all, everything worked well enough in his favor: his son got to take the throne because the true heir was forced to seal himself in the Puzzle.
Fate must despise him.
But what would a cat be doing here? Christian people thought they were evil for some reason, but no Egyptian would speak ill of a cat—and what evil could a cat do, anyway?
And, stretching out with his senses—he had forgotten how powerful he used to be—he could sense the souls of those whom he knew would not be condemned to Hell.
Including the soul of the Pharaoh—Atemu. He of all people would not be condemned, no matter what pain he had caused. So that meant Bakura was still alive. But was that a good thing?
And if this was the world of the living, what had happened to it?
And, with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, he suddenly knew. He had seen this before—how could he not know?
The doors to darkness had been opened once again.
***
With all his heart, Atemu cursed the white-haired rogue who he considered to be the cause of all this. He finally got his memory returned, and the entire world was going to be destroyed!
If this is the last task that destiny decided to placeupon me, destiny needs to find somebody else! He mused bitterly, blasting again and again at the tablet of the Millennium Items, which was emanating all this darkness.
“Atemu, you have to do something!” called Yugi, who had been separated from him for the final duel, in which it was decided if Atemu was to ascend to Paradise or remain on Earth.
Not that a duel will be required if I'm dead, he thought angrily. Damn that thief! If I ever see him again I swear I'll…
He didn't finish his train of thought—it would take too long. And I can't tell you what he did think, because this is only PG rated and I don't want to give you nightmares.
Isis and Malik were also trying to close the tablet, sending out all their energy. No one else could do anything. They could only watch.
No, that wasn't quite accurate. Due to the drastic times, even the stubborn Seto Kaiba had apparently decided to come out of his denial and acknowledge the powers he had always denied the existence of. His power flared at the tablet in a shower of white-blue sparks—like an attack from a Blue-Eyes White Dragon.
“Isn't their anything we can do?!” Atemu called to Isis.
“Only if the one spoken of in the scriptures sacrifices his life and soul will the darkness be appeased, but we don't even know if such a one exists!”
Atemu nodded grimly. He remembered very little of the prophecy—something about eternal darkness with a pure heart or whatever. He doubted someone like that existed. And hadn't it mentioned being the child of the goddess Bast* and the god Osiris? Or was it child of Bast with no known father?
And did that even matter right now?
Dammit, this isn't working! he thought, even as he blasted twice as hard, unbearably frustrated—almost to the point of tears. If anything, it's making it worse!
And it was. The hungry darkness was pouring from the tablet and escaping to the outside world, and their blasts were doing nothing but feed it.
***
It hurt to walk, and it hurt even more because he knew where he was walking to.
Who would've thought I'd end up back here again? Bakura thought sadly, not even aware of the fact that the cat that had followed him. The ruins he had died in was a paradise compared to this—the buildings were almost dust, and he couldn't even sense the spirits calling out to him as they once had.
Either they were eaten by the darkness, sealed away as well, or I just can't hear them anymore, he mused with sorrow, reaching the entrance to the secret temple. The cat stopped when he did, sitting calmly, tail switching as it—she—watched him with eyes the same dark blue as his own.
Yes, the darkness was originating from here. This he could tell almost immediately. He could sense the Pharaoh and his friends as well, including Ryou Bakura. He could also sense that Yugi and the Pharaoh were in separate bodies.
They came here for the final duel.
Suddenly fighting the almost-unbearable urge to cry—not that such an urge was unfamiliar to him, he experienced it almost daily—Bakura pushed open the door and stepped inside.
And the cat went with him.
***
“This isn't working!” called Atemu, stating the obvious. “It's…eating our attacks like they're nothing!” Was it just him, or had he heard the entrance to the secret temple open up? Shaking it away, he added, “We have to try something else!”
“Need help?”
Atemu screamed in spite of himself, whirling around. When he saw who it was, the first thing he did was stare in shock—how could Thief King Bakura (a very injured and tired-looking Thief King Bakura) be standing right in front of him when Ryou Bakura was standing with the others, looking paler than his hair and with the expression of one who had just seen a ghost? (Which he kind of had)
Then the shock died away—he, too, had separated from his other half—and his expression twisted into one of sheer outrage.
“You!” he shouted so loudly even the darkness seemed to turn quiet, and everybody stared at them—it really was a strange sight, especially considering that Thief King Bakura was even taller than Kaiba, and seven inches taller than the one who was yelling at him.
“What are you doing here? Haven't you caused enough trouble for one eternity? This—” he pointed to the tablet, still pouring out darkness. “Is all your fault!”
His rage made him want to go on for hours upon hours, and he knew that he could have done so given that he survived that long, but something in the Thief King's eyes made him stop. He seemed tired…lost…dazed…sad.
So softly Atemu had to strain to hear it, so softly no one else could hear it except Kaiba (Kaiba was standing about a foot from them) Bakura replied with a half-whispered half-whimpered, “I don't want it to be my fault…”
Atemu stared at him for a second, but once again surprise turned into fury and he snapped, “You don't? Well, you really should have thought of that before you became evil, shouldn't you?”
He didn't even bother to reply to this. He was looking at the tablet which was emitting all this darkness. The darkness seemed to be reaching out to him…calling for him…
Every bit of him—spiritual, mental, and physical—shrieked with the sudden burning need to run away as fast as his aching body would carry him, but he remained frozen to the spot.
At last, even more quietly than before, two words fell from his bleeding lips. “I'm sorry.”
Atemu stared at him, silent for once, stunned by the Thief's words, sure he hadn't heard right. When it was clear that Bakura didn't plan on continuing or at least not anytime soon, he stuttered, “W-What?”
“I said, I'm sorry,” Bakura replied, a little louder this time, looking him in the eye. “I never…” his voice seemed to break, though it may have just been Atemu's imagination. “I never meant to hurt anybody. I just…” he couldn't continue.
Once again, Atemu was stunned. Once again, shock became outrage. “'Sorry?!'” he half-hissed, half-yelled. “'Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt anyone,' is when you step on someone's foot. This is going to take a lot more than a mere 'sorry.'”
Bakura looked away from him once again, turning to the tablet. Atemu had the strangest feeling that the man who had once been the scourge of his kingdom was about to cry.
“I know,” Bakura replied, sounding as if he was trying to make his voice light but failing miserably. “I didn't expect you to forgive me so easily. Actually, I don't expect you to forgive me at all. But that's all right. I don't think I would forgive me either.”
“Good, then we agree on something. Now get the fuck out of here before I murder you, and don't think I won't!” Instead of listening—not that Atemu or anybody else had really expected him to—Bakura took a single step towards the tablet.
“What is it, Thief?” he half-snarled, half-sneered, fists clenching. “Planning to take that great dark power you wanted?”
Bakura's eyes flicked to him for a second, then back to the tablet. Tendrils of black reached for him. Voices whispered in an ancient language of magic. And he knew what he had to do, no matter how much it might cost him to do it.
“I'm going to seal the gates of darkness,” he announced, not even using his customary 'Ore-sama' in reference to himself, and any noise there may have been was gone.
Somewhere among his shock, Atemu was resentful that Bakura could so easily stun him into silence—by now he should know Bakura well enough not to be surprised by him!
It was probably this that made him narrow his eyes and retort: “I know you're evil and all, and you have a huge enough ego to think you're good enough for the job, but I doubt you'd willingly sacrifice your soul—if you even have one.”
“I would and I do,” Bakura replied, still staring at the tablet. Atemu let out a disbelieving snort, obviously skeptical.
“Yeah, right. Worried about your fate when death finally comes? You know it will. Besides, the one the scriptures spoke of needs to have a pure heart and honest intentions. You don't fit either of those, though the Darkness part I'll buy—not to mention I doubt you're the child of a goddess. Why do you think it will accept you as the sacrifice?”
“The rest of my family was a sacrifice,” Bakura whispered in a broken voice that Atemu could only hear the tiniest bit if he heard it at all. Louder, he said, “the darkness is calling out to me. I may be insane, but I know that I'm the one it wants. Do you want me to give myself to the darkness?”
Once again, Atemu was stunned into silence. This time, he didn't let it last. Forcing himself to disregard the anguish and grief in Bakura's eyes, how obviously exhausted and lost he was, Atemu pictured all of the destruction and pain the white-haired bandit had caused. Immediately, his rage returned.
“Yes!” he shouted, pouring out millenniums of rage, feeling helpless tears course down his cheeks and hating Bakura for being the one to cause them. “Why would I not want you gone? Go! Go now! And this time—don't come back!”
Bakura looked at him with obvious pain, but there was another emotion in his eyes—either Atemu couldn't read it or he didn't want to, but whatever it was it scared him.
Before Atemu could think, let alone react, Bakura lifted his chin with one bruised finger and bent over so their lips met—and in spite of the blood, Bakura had soft lips which tasted better than the most delicious of fruits.
It was a gentle kiss, and Bakura was an amazing kisser. Atemu's body screamed at him to respond, but his mind wouldn't let it. His mind screamed at him to pull away, but his body wouldn't let him. So he stayed still, trembling in complete shock, until Bakura pulled away.
Atemu remained still, stunned. Both body and mind wanted desperately to lift his hand—though to smack him or stroke his hair he didn't know—but his hands remained at his side.
He couldn't tear his eyes away from Bakura's, and he had to force himself to glare at those sad blue things. They were so different from the cruel golden-tinged brown ones he had grown accustomed to…
“I won't,” Bakura whispered. “Not this time.”
He turned and walked towards the tablet, which was in truth a sarcophagus. The darkness screamed hungrily, welcoming him. His family's souls called out to him as they always had, and his eyes filled with tears. These were the voices that had haunted him since his sixth birthday.
The sarcophagus snapped open, the darkness surging up. It was hungry, hungry for the still-pure heart and soul of its child, born at its core—born of blood, born of pain, born of hate. Bakura knew that his body—his true body, the one he now was returned to—had been lying in there for the past three thousand years.
This is my fate…he thought, not letting himself be bitter. This is what I was always meant to do…I was born of the darkness, and now I shall return to the darkness.
His gaze became blurred with tears as he remembered every night that he had screamed at the knowledge that the darkness was closing in, begging for forgiveness, Atemu's especially—it was no use denying his love for the young, if body if not in soul, Pharaoh—wishing for nothing more than death, for the end of everything.
This is…the end I was seeking…to be one with the darkness…to return to my family.
What awaited him beyond those gates? Would he become a god of darkness? Would he be reunited with his family? Would he be forced to wander the darkness forever?
Or would he simply be gone?
Any speaking was gone now, and there were only three noises—the screaming darkness, the screaming spirits, and the yowling of a cat. And other than that last one, Bakura was the only one who ever heard any of it.
I never had a chance, he thought mournfully, entering the darkness. Fervent flames of black shot up in sheer ecstasy, howling with desire. The pain immediately numbed, a true mercy for one who had felt nothing but pain all his life.
It was in the scriptures, in the prophecies, in everything…he recalled as the black fire engulfed him, hiding almost everything. I just didn't want to believe…I kept thinking that maybe…maybe…there might be some hope for me.
There was never any hope.
He kept his eyes on Atemu, letting his tears fall as he recalled how much he loved the Pharaoh—had always loved him. It hurt to have him glare like that.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I love you.”
He could still taste Atemu's kiss, the taste of exotic spices and sandalwood oil and desert winds. Forcing himself to think of the taste as the inferno grew, giving him barely any room to see the Pharaoh's hateful eyes, he sighed in acquiescence.
I kissed him without getting myself stabbed, he thought, trying to ignore the nightmarish blackness his body was merging with. I can die happy.
Atemu glared at the Thief's vanishing body, hating him even at the moment of his death for dying with the upper hand. He wanted to scream something at him, wanted to have the last word, but he couldn't. He felt spent, exhausted, as if that gentle kiss had sucked out his soul. It took all his strength to glare.
And maybe, somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a voice saying that he was being cruel. Maybe something in him knew that Bakura was giving up everything and he was treating him like shit.
Maybe there was a part of him that had loved that kiss, that wanted another one, one that wouldn't end. Maybe it loved Bakura too.
Maybe…
He would never know.
***
Now I will tell you what I've done for you
Fifty thousand years I've cried
Screaming, deceiving, and bleeding for you
But you still won't hear me
I'm going under
Don't want your hand this time I'll save myself
Maybe I'll wake up for once
Not tormented daily defeated by you
Just when I thought I'd reached the bottom
I'm dying again
I'm going under
Drowning in you
I'm falling forever
I've got to break through
I'm going under
Blurring and stirring the truth and the lies
So I don't know what's real and can't see what's not
Always confusing the thoughts in my head
So I can't trust myself anymore
I'm dying again
I'm going under
Drowning in you
I'm falling forever
I've got to break through
So go on and scream, scream at me
I'm so far away
I won't be broken again
I've got to breathe, I cant keep going under
I'm dying again
I'm going under
Drowning in you
I'm falling forever
I've got to break through
I'm going under
Going under
I'm going under
Drowning in you
I'm going under
Fifty thousand years I've cried
Screaming, deceiving, and bleeding for you
But you still won't hear me
I'm going under
Don't want your hand this time I'll save myself
Maybe I'll wake up for once
Not tormented daily defeated by you
Just when I thought I'd reached the bottom
I'm dying again
I'm going under
Drowning in you
I'm falling forever
I've got to break through
I'm going under
Blurring and stirring the truth and the lies
So I don't know what's real and can't see what's not
Always confusing the thoughts in my head
So I can't trust myself anymore
I'm dying again
I'm going under
Drowning in you
I'm falling forever
I've got to break through
So go on and scream, scream at me
I'm so far away
I won't be broken again
I've got to breathe, I cant keep going under
I'm dying again
I'm going under
Drowning in you
I'm falling forever
I've got to break through
I'm going under
Going under
I'm going under
Drowning in you
I'm going under
***
*=Egyptian cat goddess of the moon and sun, healing and fertility, sexuality and probably something else that I'm not remembering. She's also the goddess of duality, due to being the goddess of the sun and moon.