Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Nightshade ❯ Chapter 1

[ P - Pre-Teen ]
A/N: I know nothing about poisons, except for the ones we're all told to avoid: household cleaners, various poisonous berries and plants, yeah, that kind of stuff.
~ Nightshade ~

Ryou came out of the card, and into the Shadow Game as the Change of Heart card. Bakura commanded him to take over Yugi's mind, to win him the match and the Millennium Puzzle. But Ryou betrayed him, to rescue his friends from his yami.

* * *

His yami had used him, as a pawn. Something useless, expendable. It didn't matter if he disappeared, all that was important to him were the Millennium Items. All seven of them. And so he picked the flowers off the plant, delicately pulling each petal off, and dried them.

* * *

Ryou woke up from unconsciousness, to see his friends looking concerned.

"What happened?" he asked groggily.

His learnt that Bakura had once again taken over his body, creating an alliance with Malik, and, as an acceptance, stabbed himself. Or rather, stabbed Ryou.

* * *

This was how his yami treated him. An object, as if he was something that could be picked up from the local store, and disposed of. Working in dull light, he had taken off his Millennium Ring, to try and break the bond between him and his yami. It was as if a burden had been taken off his chest; he could breathe again. He took the berries, and counted the number he needed.

* * *

Those horrible nights, Bakura had tortured him, slowly and deliberately running the knife down Ryou's arms. He often ventured so close to his veins, Ryou was desperate, wanting his yami to accidentally slip, and let his life blood flow, freeing him from this world, and from this hellish nightmare.

But Bakura was an expert. Immobilizing his hikari, he could do whatever he wanted, without interference. He knew Ryou wanted to die, and so he denied him the privilege. No, Ryou was to suffer, watching blood seep out of him, feel the pain of Bakura's rough tongue crawling up his arm, stinging every time it met his exposed flesh.

* * *

His pain was Bakura's sustenance; food, water, toy, pleasure. To him, he was a wind-up toy, which let out a scream when activated, and Bakura actually enjoyed it. He indulged in his pain, his cries of pain the sweetest of melodies.

That wouldn't last, though. He would show Bakura. His yami would no longer have him to torment. It was time he took charge, and wound his yami instead. Gathering his plants, he placed them in the hot water. If Bakura didn't give him what he wanted, then he would get it himself. Bakura would regret everything he had done against him.

* * *

"Ryou, are you all right?" Yugi's voice came from the other side of the door.

Ryou couldn't answer. Pretending no one was in the house, he hoped that his friends would go away. Looking down at his scars, some fresh, some old, there was no way Yugi and the others could see him like this.

"I know you're there."

No, he wasn't there. No one lived here, except a shadow. Bakura had ravaged him so much, he had to wait for Ryou to recover. Before he could cause him pain all over again. He had only two days of freedom.

* * *

Bakura had left him for a fortnight now. Each time he was wounded, he was in a worse state than before. He wanted all this to stop. Stirring the concoction he had created, he watched as the dyes from the petals were released, forming a deep violet colored water. This time, it would be him that would cause Bakura pain.

"Where are you, brat?"

He sighed. His yami was back, no doubt to torture him some more. More blood would flow, out of him, and stain the carpet, the bed, the walls. Everything.

"Ryou, I can sense your presence. You can't hide from me."

Oh yes he could.

"RYOU!"

Bakura's voice became louder as he got closer.

* * *

The cold, hard metal bit into his flesh again, its controller drawing intricate patterns on Ryou's body.

"You look beautiful," Bakura said with malice, admiring his work. He traced the lines of scarlet with his finger, before licking them clean. But then a pained look came across his face, and Ryou felt something from his yami, a feeling he had never sensed from him before. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.... The agony was too great for him to think properly.

Weak from the loss of blood, he fainted, and he hoped, for the last time.

* * *

The sudden slamming open of the door startled him for only a second. His yami came stalking in, having found his prey. He took no notice of Bakura though, as he looked in sad contentment at the potion he had brewed.

"Ryou," the tomb robber barked. "What hell are you doing?"

Was that concern he detected in his yami's voice?

Ignoring Bakura's questions, he forced himself to concentrate. With trembling hands, he lifted the glass to his lips, and drank. The dark purple fluid ran down his throat as he guzzled it down like a drunk with his beer.

"Stop that!" Bakura ordered, striding over to his hikari. He violently grabbed the glass and threw it against the wall. Immediately it smashed into pieces, the liquid unable to mix with the dry, rusty red that already stained the walls.

"Why do you care?" the white-haired teen mumbled, his eyes full of hatred towards his yami. "All you've ever done to me was hurt me. You're only asking so that I can be used and humiliated once again."

"No. Not anymore," Bakura said to him, holding an eerily limp Ryou in his arms. Strange, he knew his hikari was weak, but not like this....

"I'm not weak," Ryou stated, as if he had read his yami's mind. "Not anymore, so there's no use in asking whether I'm okay or not."

"What was it that you drank anyway?"

Ryou smiled sardonically. "I call it Nightshade."

Bakura felt his hikari shudder, no doubt as a result of the poison running through his veins. He closed his eyes, collected himself, before speaking in a gruff voice.

"Ryou. Lately I've been thinking. All this pain that I've caused you, it might be satisfying, but it gets me nowhere. And when I'm not here, you're happier, especially when you're with your friends. You emit a healthy, radiant glow... so tempting-"

"Tempting to hurt?" accused Ryou, his breathing becoming shallow.

Bakura slapped his face.

"No," he replied angrily. "Yes, sometimes," he admitted after a while. "But I've been watching you these past few weeks. Your friendship and optimism reminded me of my past. I used to love, and I was so happy. I took everything for granted. But then fate, the gods, decided to play a cruel joke on me. Why? Because I didn't belong, just as I don't belong here. I grew bitter, and my life tumbled into darkness, and that's how I came to be who I am. If I couldn't be happy, then no one else would be either. Trying to cheat death, seeking refuge within the Millennium Ring, I was the coward all along."

"But you're changing," observed Ryou. "Too late, though."

"There's something about you," Bakura continued. "Something I can't quite figure out. Your gentleness... it's so irritating, but the more I see you smiling, the more... I feel for you."

"Too late," Ryou repeated, closing his eyes.

"Ryou!"

He tightened his grip on the dying boy, hoping he would respond to the pain. He would not, already having descended too far into unconsciousness.

Tears slowly trickling from his eyes, Bakura raised his hikari's head, and kissed him. There was a bittersweet taste, like the feelings he had for Ryou. The Nightshade acted quickly on the spirit, since he was already weakening because of the broken bond between the two.

In the darkness of night, two bodies fell, their souls drifting away. A breeze ruffled the silvery-white hair of the two, carrying with it a ghostly voice.

"Aishiteru."