Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ I'll Number Your Stars ❯ I'll Number Your Stars ( Chapter 1 )

A/N: Okay, I bet you all hate me now...

Kyo, Rikou and Noriko: -GLARE-

Buyo: -whines- I’m sorry! I just have to write this!

Noriko: Also, ignore some of the things that happen in here. Obviously, this being a FAN FICTION, has some truths and some lies. The beginning in the market with Atemu? Not true. Kurueruna? True. Okay?

Buyo: GOT IT! I know that I’m in the middle of doing a fic, but oh well! This one will be short!

Kyo: -snorts-

Buyo: -GLARE-

Disclaimer: I do NOT own YuGiOu! I wish I did. Then it would be very yaoi... and there would be no Anzu! -heart-

I’ll Number Your Stars
By Fat Cat Buyo
YET ANOTHER YuGiOu one-shot

-------Atemu’s PoV------

All my life, I remembered you. But I thought I would never see you again....

That bright, sunny day. Mahaado and Mana were gone, so I sat alone, hugging the only thing close to me. A stuffed doll. I know that sounds very childish of a Pharaoh-to-be, but I was alone most of my childhood, without the love of a father. He ruled all day and sent me off with Mahaado and Mana. Not that I had any problem with the two, they were my closest friends. My only friends.

I remember sitting alone, after running away from some servants sent to watch me. I wandered the market, aimlessly. I was only eight at the time, and I clutched my rag doll tight to my chest. I never wanted to admit this, but I was afraid. Afraid of what might happen to me, because I’m royalty. But nothing happened. Nothing at all.

People went along with their day. Merchants tried to sell me toys that I had not the money to buy. Women pinched my cheeks and asked me where my mother was. In many ways, I felt happy there. But I also felt pity for these people who lived in poverty. They were not rich, in the sense that they had as much money as I did. But they were rich in a different way. I watched, sadly, as fathers raised their children up above their heads and spun them around. I watched as the children giggled and the women held their sons and daughters warmly. And because of the love for their families, they were the richest people in the world.

I wanted to cry, but I didn’t. I kept walking and wandering, taking in everything. And then it happened. I bumped into you and fell over. All you did was glare and say, “Watch where you’re going.” That’s it. For the moment....

I got up and followed you. You knew I was behind you, didn’t you? But you led me into danger. I watched as you stole an apple from a merchant and bit into it. I watched as you stole peoples’ money, as they stood to get their food. And for that, I wanted.... I don’t remember what I wanted.

Your white hair stood out in the crowds of bald and black haired people. Then again, my red, black and yellow hair stood out as well. You were dressed like a commoner, and so was I. Your skin glistened and was tan. So was mine. But you were around sixteen, and I was eight. A while ago, that was a large age difference.

Anyway, I followed you. I felt some kind of emotion, that right now, I know... was envy. I was envious of your adventurous life. I wanted to follow you forever, and do what you did. I’d prefer living on the streets to the life of a Pharaoh. People are always following you around, telling you what to do. You have to boss them around and make them do your work. You always have people looking up to you and you always, ALWAYS have to make the right decision.

Compared to the life of a Pharaoh, I would rather be a commoner on the streets.

Finally, you acknowledged my presence. “Hey, kid. Why are you following me?” You growled these words, and I felt hurt. But I didn’t let you see that. I just stared at you, with my large, deep, purple eyes.

“Look, I don’t want you following me, kid. I don’t want you to get in trouble for my wrong-doings.” You crossed your arms. Thinking back on that, when you cross your arms, I am always reminded of this day. This exact moment. “Go home.”

“But I like you.” Your eyes widened.

“Y-No. You don’t. You don’t know what I am, kid. Now scram!”

“You’re a thief. A commoner.”

“What’s it to ya?”

“What’s it like being poor?” At this, you grew angry. You saw the rag doll that lay limp in my hand, and grabbed it.

“If you don’t leave... I’ll rip this piece of shit to pieces! Got it?” I turned around and began walking away. “Hey! Don’t you want your doll back?”

“Give it to me later!” I shouted, knowing that you’d find your way back to me.

And you did.

But under different circumstances....

You insulted me and killed my right-hand Magician and friend, Mahaado. You set fire to the market place, in your state of rage. You shouted crude insults at me, and never smiled at me. You hurt my people. You robbed my father’s tomb and flaunted his body in front of me.

And do you know what? I still liked you.

Correction.

Ever since that day, I loved you. Love. Such a strong word. But my feelings are strong enough to use such a word.

But how can a Pharaoh love such a lowly commoner?

I don’t know... but one day, Bakura.... I’ll find a way.

------Bakura’s PoV------

Heh. The way that you looked at me gave your position away, Pharaoh. That day in the market? I remember it clearly. The first day that someone as young as you would ever even look at me. That told me you were royalty. Even though you were dressed like a commoner, everyone in this market knows not to talk to me. My white hair and grey eyes make me “the demon child”. Only some stupid, rich shithead would even THINK about talking to me.

You were cute back then. Did anyone ever tell you that?

At nights, when I sleep alone, I hold your doll close to my heart. If only you could see it now.

It’s burnt in some places, it’s arm is torn off, the stuffing is flying out, and it looks old and tattered. I look at it and think about climbing into your bedroom and laying it by your head. Maybe I could soak in the blood of one of your guards. That would be interesting....

But, when I burst into your throne room, the day that you became Pharaoh, the day your father’s tomb was robbed by me, I could see the look in your eyes. Love and compassion... for a street rat. You recognized me and I recognized you. And you didn’t even know my name... but I knew yours.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Atemu at the throne.” I smirked. A while later, my horse galloped in....

Dragging the body of your beloved father. The one who loved you, but was too busy to fucking care for you.

The one who let Kurueruna be burnt to the ground, it’s people with it, in order to make that fucking puzzle around your neck.

Well, soon you learned my name. And I killed your magician. But I got a worthy prize: his Sennen Ring, which came in handy to me.

But let’s skip forward a little.

I killed your magician, stole your doll, possessed one of your priests, stole the Sennen ring, laughed as you fell into a crevice, robbed your fathers tomb and burnt your market to the ground.

But whenever you look at me, you still look like you love me. And I hate it.

I hate it because I want you to love me. I want to sneak into your room at night, and kiss you again.

Yes, Atemu, I stole your first kiss. But you can’t remember it, because you weren’t conscious. I snuck into your room at night. There was no moon, I remember, for the stars looked lonely. I was planning on killing you, but you looked so peaceful. So I kissed you. Nothing big.

But my undying hatred for what happened to my people, will never cease to burn.

I’m going to number your stars. And one by one, I’ll blow them all up.

The way you look at me makes me feel like all of the killing I have ever done, was wrong. You make me feel guilty that the sun only shines for a certain amount of time before the sky darkens and becomes night. You make me feel guilty for the fact that everyone dies.

And these things I can not change to please you.

But you know what? Thieves like pretty things... so one day, Atemu, I’ll make you mine.

------Owari------

Okay... that sucked XD XD XD! Now I have to go back to working on my OTHER fic!! REVIEW DAMN YOU! I WANT TO FEEL AS IF MY WORK IS NOT IN VAIN!

Looove, Buyo!