Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ My Promise ❯ Teenage Saga: I always knew ( Chapter 24 )

24 Teenage Saga: I always knew.

oOo

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh isn't mine blablabla, thus I don't own it. I do not own Ryou and Bakura. I do not own the taxi Ryou and Bakura take. I also don't own the train they take, and nor do I own `Antwerpen'.

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It was not until a good few hours later I woke up. Bakura, smart as ever, had already left the taxi ages ago with my body. He even paid the taxi-driver without treating him -at least, that's what he told me after I woke up-. Now, we were in Belgium. We had left `Dordrecht' behind, because Bakura somewhere found a station nearby the point we stepped out of the taxi. He bought a ticket to `Antwerpen'. I still don't know how he remembered the way I said we would travel, but I'm happy it worked out fine. He probably checked my laptop for seeing where to go next. I don't know, but I won't bother Bakura by asking.

So, we were in Belgium. Where? I don't know. And I don't think Bakura knew it either. Yeah, we were in the train up to `Antwerpen', but Bakura and I didn't know how long it would take for us to arrive there. Bakura bought the ticket, and that was enough for him. He said I would have to do the math. He didn't care when we would arrive in `Antwerpen', because it wasn't like we would never travel again. Feel his sarcasm, please.

When I looked outside, I saw the sun coming up already. Well, I did sleep long, I guess. It must be around 7, I guess, taking it's winter, and the sun is just coming up. 7 o'clock, 8 at the most. The sky had already coloured light blue, indicating good weather. I lightly smiled at the sight, at the beginning of a new day. This time hopefully without lots of cops, lots of changing clothes and lots of bandanas.

Not much later, when looked some things up on my laptop, I found out where we were. It was 7:30 by the way -see, I'm correct!-, and we would arrive in `Antwerpen' in a good hour. I also checked up information, and it appeared that I could travel all the way to `Paris' from `Antwerpen'. Of course, after much begging from Bakura's side, we planned to go shopping in `Antwerpen' for a day. Not long, because if the cops found out I wasn't in `Florida', things would get ugly.

Now that I all had this figured out, I felt myself coming drowsy again. I couldn't help it, really! Usually I would wake up at 10 in the morning, if not later! And this constant travelling and stuff -which I SHOULD get used to, but is killing me anyway- isn't good for my sleeping habits.

“Sleep, Ryou.” I heard Bakura vaguely say -it was more like demanding … but I didn't mind it-, before my head fell against a warm shoulder. I must have been Bakura's, because I didn't feel that person scare away. When Bakura gently pulled a lost stray of my white hair behind my ear, I couldn't help but to feel content. This wasn't a feeling I was used to have. I really relaxed in his arms. Then I doze off.

oOOo

 

“Ryou … we've arrived.” I could hear the soft whisper in my ear. Figures. Bakura. I was still laying against his shoulder, in not a real comfortable way. My back was only half backed up against the seat, while my neck was turned to Bakura. Nope. Not a comfortable way of sleeping a whole hour. Yet, when I thought about it, I didn't mind it.

“Another minute and I'll be a good boy today.” I mumbled. Please note I wasn't officially awake yet.

“Okay … I'll get your body, so you don't need to hurry. I heard another whisper, while my body got a will of its own -in this case, Bakura's will- once more. Mentally, I yawned, before stretching my arms and legs lazily. Meanwhile Bakura already got off the train, while walking toward what he thought was the Centrum of `Antwerpen'.

I COULD give him advice, or give him the right direction, but something inside of me found it very interesting and funny to see Bakura struggle with a city map. You see, Bakura kept on turning the map, upside-down and back again, until the map ended up the wrong way. Then he walked for a few feet into what he thought the good direction, only to figure out this couldn't possibly be the right direction after all, then start looking on the map again, etc. etc..

It WAS funny to see Bakura like this. It made me feel a strange kind of happy, because I had the feeling Bakura would -of course- ask ME in the end what the right direction to the Centrum of `Antwerpen' was. Of course Bakura would never admit out loud he was lost: He would probably choose for the more subtle way.

“Ryou?” Oh, there it was already. Oh, the joy of knowing what would happen next.

“Which side of this city you want to see first? You can choose.” Oh, smart one, Bakura. Very smart indeed. Though it would be worth a laugh to answer he could show me the way to the Centrum, I decided not to torment his poor brain any further.

“The Centrum is that way, Bakura.” I dryly pointed my index finger -mentally of course- into the right direction. After a snort from Bakura, I felt a sort of vibe running through me, before he started to walk into the direction I mentioned, with my body of course. Though I had NO idea what that strange vibe was, I ignored it, now looking at everything Bakura was watching. I felt a content feeling wash over me, seeing how sweet Bakura acted to me.

After a good walk we arrived in the centre part of `Antwerpen'. Bakura couldn't help it but to smile cockily, imagining HE was the one who had lead the two of us so wonderful to this part of the town. I let him smile, but did ask him to give back my body. He immediately did, which I found very nice of him.

“Where are we now, Ryou? This is still Holland, right?” Bakura spoke up. I smiled at him, before answering this question.

“No, not anymore. We left Holland quite some time ago. We are now in Belgium, that's another country, right under Holland a.k.a The Netherlands.”

“Is Belgium the same is Holland?”

“Half of Belgium speaks Dutch, Bakura. The other half speaks French. But since we're going to France after this ... I don't mind. The culture is pretty much the same ... I think. I don't know much about European countries. What I do know is that the climate is pretty much the same as in Holland.”

“How do you KNOW these things, Ryou!” Bakura suddenly looked up from a store to my face with a puzzled look.

“I study.”

“Well ... that explains a bit, doesn't it? Hahah. Couldn't you buy fries here in Belgium? You know ... World's Best Fries?”

“I have no idea if they are `World's Best Fries'... they DO have very good chocolate here, from what I've heard.”

“Then I know what I wanna eat for dinner!”

“But fries ánd chocolate are unhealthy!” I said, before figuring out Bakura could be annoyed by this statement. I shut up immediately, hoping Bakura wouldn't mind. In the end Bakura hadn't noticed at all I was being mean.

“They might be unhealthy, but we're in Belgium! Holland has tulips and windmills. Belgium has fries and chocolate! France must have wine and French bread!”

“Bakura, you have quite a view about this world we live in. What do think Italy will be like?”

“Emmm ... ice-cream?”

“Heh, heh. Not quite. You may have a point somewhere ... France indeed has good wines and French bread ... but France doesn't exists only for those things.”

“I know that! France has cheeses as well!” I made a face, until I understood Bakura was merely playing with me. I smiled slightly, finally seeing the humour of it.

“Look ... there's a souvenir-shop, Bakura. Shall we look inside? Then I can show you what Belgium can offer too.”

“We don't have place for souvenirs in the backpack. We HAVE place for a picture of you standing in front of that shop.” Came the -very- unsubtle statement. It frightened me, yet I immediately stood still in front of the shop, while Bakura got the camera out of my backpack. Though I had a little question for him for my own.

“Why me and not you?”

“Because you look so damn sexy.”

“Kidding, right?”

“Yes … I don't know whether you would see me at pictures or not.” Right, I knew Bakura would have a decent reason! Humph, imagine: Me being sexy. Riiiiight. An overstatement that would be! The words `Ryou' and `Sexy' do not belong in the same sentence, unless you add the word `not'. I'm scrawny, stupid, girly, clumsy, and not to mention ugly. Ugh, and that would Bakura call `Sexy'. Some taste he would have then!

“If you take the camera, are you sure people around us won't see a camera floating in the air?” I questioned back, thinking I could still somehow dodge the picture.

“We've done this before, remember? London Airport, per example. Now stand still and pose for me!” That last part had a certain tone in it, making clear I should obey, else he wouldn't be so nice anymore.

“Like this?” I checked if no one was looking to me while I was posing in front of a stupid store, then made a happy-go-lucky face, smiled to Bakura, while giving a peace sign. I SO feel like a tourist right now.

“Yes, yes! Exactly like that! Ryou, you're the best. Oh, the joy of this. Now I can put this BEAUTIFUL picture of you under my pillow when I go to sleep at night, then I would feel SO happy knowing I have a little bit of you next to me. Oh, Ryou. You're simply the best!” How sarcastic can one become?

“Of course, my dear Bakura. And if you have the very urgent urge to masturbate, you can always grab that cute li'll pic of mine to jerk of, thinking how close, yet how far away, I am to you.”

“You wish to help me jerk off?”

“I rather not.” I couldn't help myself but to giggle. The two of us together could be so funny sometimes. In my eyes, that is.

“Good we agree at that point. Now stop giggling, I already took a cute picture of you. Shall we continue our little journey, Ryou?”

“That would be nice, Bakura.” I kindly answered him, smiling at my best friend. Then we linked our hands together, or rather Bakura grabbed my hand and entwined our fingers, while slowing pulling me toward some other shops. I smiled again. Gods, how much can one smile anyway! Then I followed Bakura's will.

We walked a bit, and I did some window-shopping. Like Bakura said before, we indeed had too limited space in my backpack, so we couldn't afford to buy stuff. To think I bought so much in London! Worse was that Bakura knew we couldn't buy souvenirs, so he photographed everything cool we saw, including me of course. Worst that he kept on saying how well I looked with `that gentle breeze combing your hair and with that damn beautiful watery sun what lightened up your pretty face'. Ugh, how I hated that. So untrue!

Every time he said how good I looked, I hated myself more and more. I really couldn't help but to feel this way. Bakura must be blind not to see how ugly and stupid I really am … well, perhaps he DID notice I wasn't God's gift to the world, so he decided to tell me I WAS beautiful, so I would THINK it was true. But I am not a fool. I'm not beautiful. I may have white hair and brown eyes, I'm still a nothing. Really, Bakura was far more beautiful than I was. This is not hard to see, seeing I was ugly as hell.

You see, everything that was ugly about me, was beautiful at Bakura. Example: My hair. My hair was too girly with its many curled, long white locks. Also, my hair was too soft and shiny, which COULD be a good quality, but wasn't in combination with my white locks. It made me look even girlier. On the other side, Bakura's hair was almost the same as mine. Also long, white locks, yet his hair somehow didn't manage to make him look like a girl. Perhaps it was the fact his hair was more unruly, or that he had spikier bangs than I had. HIS hair made him look like a unique person, who could be massive popular because of those white locks. He had Real Boy Hair, according to me. I once stroke his hair -only once!- and I could feel his hair was soft too. Not girly soft, but more like hygienic I-can-take-care-of-my-hair soft.

Another example: our eyes. Both of our eyes were chocolate brown, yet mine were more innocent and slight softer coloured than Bakura's. My eyes radiated innocence, sweetness and gentleness. Needless to say, I hate my eyes. Bakura's eyes look like they lost their innocence a long time ago. They look more mature, almost wiser, than mine. Sometimes also cruel, but I can see through that facade. The colour was a little darker and sharper than mine, so God, how I love those eyes. Now those CAN be called beautiful.

Another example, totally different yet too important to overlook: my attitude towards everything. People often think I'm sweet, but that's just because I look so nice. I merely don't want to open my mouth, because I always tend to think people will hate me. Thus I tend to act sweet, but inside I'm seeing everything negative because people don't like me. Conclusion: I'm the sarcasm king. I'm way too sarcastic, naïve, doubtful and negative in my mind. I hate my attitude. Wish it would be more like Bakura's. He is always so positive about things, though he always tries to hide it under a shell of cruel statements! He can even break through my sarcasm and negativism with his happy-go lucky, cruel yet funny, really sweet statements of his. Though people would probably think he wouldn't be very nice at all, he is. Just give him a chance, and then he'll give you a chance as well.

Now, somewhere I think I just made clear why I'm nothing compared to Bakura. I'll stop my ranting now, don't worry. This merely because I sound like a schoolgirl in love with her best male friend. Ugh, I hate feeling I'm gay. It makes me feel so … gay!

“Earth to Ryou, are you hearing me! When Bakura spoke up, I finally woke up from my endless thoughts. I looked at him, nodding my head ever so slightly, indicating I was now listening to him.

“I'll be wise and tell you this once more. We should make pictures in every town we visit! That way we'll have our own kind of souvenir for when we'll be back in Japan. We can buy a cool photo-album for all those pictures! It'll be cool, you'll see. I'll make something nice of it, with pretty colours, and glitters, and all pictures with you on it!” Bakura kept on rambling, probably ignoring me. He was probably in la-la-land with his ugly pictures of me.

“Don't you agree?” Once I figured out Bakura was -again- talking to me, I hastily nodded my head. Of course I didn't really agree, but I didn't want Bakura to think I was depressive, or something along that line.

“Really!” Bakura's face filled a scary grade of enthusiasm. Should I burst that bubble of joy, right here and now? I was, after al, not as happy was Bakura currently was, and that was in my eyes not very fair. Call me a meany-head, but I -somewhere- wanted Bakura to know I felt little sad. Ugh, don't you all detest me right now?

“No, actually not. I rather throw away that stupid camera than you taking one more picture of the ugly sculpture called Ryou Bakura.” I couldn't help but to say it so mean. But I think that in the end Bakura didn't really mind it. Perhaps he was getting used to my negative and depressive ranting?

“Oh silly, silly Ryou.” Bakura mused to himself, suddenly pushing his whole body against mine … wait a minute! What was he doing! I felt getting light-headed as I felt Bakura's slighter bigger body push only more and more against mine, his chest against my chest, and his tummy against my tummy, his thighs against mine th- …. AAAAAAAH! O my god, I'm freaking out here!

“Ba-Bakura!” I tried to ask what he was doing, but suddenly I felt strong arms around me, and every frantic though of mine multiplied rapidly. What was Bakura doing? A hug for biding goodnight or good morning was one thing, but this! Was he HITTING on me? Sexually ATTRACTED to this ugly body of mine -trick question, that's impossible- or was he trying to MOLEST me! If so, he was quite succeeding.

Soon Bakura strangely planned hug increased. Bakura pushed me to a wall and buried his head between my hair and shoulder. I, on the other hand, was panicking more and more. What was he doing! This was quite a hug he was making.

When Bakura looked back at me, my lower lip slightly began to tremble. I really was scared for my best friend, not because this was Bakura who was currently molesting me, but more at the prospect Bakura was probably going to say something -or DO something!- to me. In the end, I was right. Oh, the joy of knowing your best friend's next move.

“Ryou, I think you're beautiful.” A low voice, almost a whisper, came from Bakura's mouth. Then, the lightest Bakura ever touched me, he bowed his head, closing the gap between us, and softly kissed my left cheek.

I, of course, turned beet red within a second.

Not because my best friend just kissed my cheek. Not because my cheek got kissed by a gay person, nor because my cheek got kissed in public. No, no, no. Not that at all.

“Shall we continue window-shopping, my sweet beauty?” I just nodded, as Bakura let me go. Then Bakura made a stupid twirl, before walking to another shop. I watched him silently, wishing the ground would swallow me right now, or that Bakura would do it again. That such a simple gesture affected me so much.

You see, ever since I watched Disney Movies on TV, I always thought someday when I was old enough, I would buy a horse, shield and sword, then save a pretty girl and marry her. That dream changed when I saw `Shrek'. Still, I believed I would fall in love with some pretty girl and we would live happily ever after.

Now, somewhere after I met Bakura those few ago, that image drastically changed. The horse was of course gone. It would be a car now. The sword and shield vanished, instead a cell phone and a credit card. I wasn't worried about that part of the picture though. No, it was more the girl I was getting worried about.

I've always wondered how it would feel to be in love. `Butterflies' is such a vague description for someone who never fell in love before. I always thought being in love was the best thing that would ever happen in my life. I would fall in love with a very sweet girl, and she would -of course- love me too. We would hold hands, walk on beaches and see the sun set together. We would buy chocolate and stuffed bears for each other, watch romantic movies, and when one of us two would be scared, we would be there for the other. We would sleep in the same bed, cuddle and hug very much, and every night we would kiss each other on the cheek for biding goodnight to the other. Oh yes, a perfect picture indeed.

Of course, when Bakura stepped in my life again, I was little afraid my dream wouldn't come true anymore. Where could I get the chance to walk on a beach with a girl when I was in Europe with Bakura, who followed me even to the bathroom?

I have let go of my romantic dream, until Bakura kissed my cheek a moment ago. I was, probably, in his eyes his way to show me his affection. His way to show me not to feel ugly. Only it didn't feel as a hint of simple affection to me. No, it felt like much, much more.

You see, the reason I began to blush was simply because I felt fuzzy again. Not simply fuzzy, no. I think I have just found out what that fuzzy feeling was. What that vague, stirring feeling inside of me was, that came every time Bakura hugged me, smiled at me or kissed my cheek. I hated the truth, but somewhere I have the feeling I already knew it all along what the fuzzy feeling was. I was merely hiding the truth from myself, thinking it would pass and go away. Well, now I could finally put a label on the word `fuzzy'. Joy.

I think I was falling for my best friend, Bakura.