Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Promise ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )
Summary: Ryou and Malik were friends when they were young, but Malik left for Egypt a few years later, promising Ryou he would come back on Ryou's eighteenth birthday. But people change, and Ryou finds out that the man who claims to be Malik isn't the Malik he befriended years ago...
Warnings: Dis ficcy contains YAOI, and that's BOY/BOY relationships for those of ya who don't know what it means XD And the pairing is....... **drumroll** MALIK X RYOU XD So z'ere
Dedication: Dedicated to Evaru, for putting up with me and for being patient while I take forever to actually do something ^________^ and for everybody else who's reading this. ^^
Translated Names: Like Sweet Tomorrow, I'm just doing the Japanese names, 'kay? Good. ^^ The list will grow longer once more characters are added.
Bakura = Ryou
Yami Bakura = Bakura
Marik= Malik
Disclaimer: *insert sarcastic voice here* Yeah, I own Yu-Gi-Oh. It is soooo mine. (please note sarcasm)
Promise
Prologue
"Ouch!" Five-year old Ryou Bakura cried out in pain as his head roughly made contact with the gravel of the public park. A miniscule drop of crystalline tear trickled down his cheek, marring a path in its wake on the round, pale cheek. Pain and agony streaked through his tiny body, and rivulets of tears openly flew from the five-year old's chocolate-brown orbs in no time.
Three rotund figures loomed like black clouds behind him, smirking and sneering and crossing their round, plump arms across their chest. Their leader, the biggest, roundest and stupidest of the three stepped forward, his smirk widening incredulously as he lowered his gaze onto the crying boy.
"Aww, what? Had enough, yet?" He jeered, beady-black eyes gleaming with mischief.
Ryou lifted his throbbing head, his vision smudged and blurred dramatically by tears. "I'm sorry. P-Please stop," the slender boy sobbed out.
A chubby arm shot out and closed around the collar of Ryou's white shirt. "Why would we want to do that?"
Ryou could only cry from the blunt gesture. "I-It hurts." He managed to choke out between series of sobs. His snowy hair was disheveled and bruises, cuts and bits of dried blood littered haphazardly all over his alabaster complexion.
What did I do? I just wanted to be friends... Ryou lamented. He never intended harm, so why are these boys torturing him?
"Go back to England, you creep! You don't belong here and you would be better off away from the rest of us normal people." The bully positioned his mouth beside Ryou's ear and screamed. Ryou whimpered and fell onto the uneven pathway, sobbing uncontrollably.
They hate me. But what did I do?
Unexpected, a mocha-hued hand shot out and closed into a fist. It landed on the bully's face without reluctance. A sickening CRACK was heard. Gasping, the bully brought his portly hands to embrace his jaw.
Ryou looked up in surprise, tears still streaming down his damp cheeks. There was a flash of platinum gold as his savior aimed another punch. Stunned, the two other bullies did the first thing that came into their mind -- lounge at the newcomer and hold him down while their friend recovered from the blow.
Unfortunately, the stranger had other plans. Hopping out of the way just in the nick of time, he brought his leg up and aimed a half-crescent kick in both their stomachs. The two landed on top of each other like dominoes.
"Who are you?" The first bully spat out, fear evident in his tiny black eyes.
The stranger tossed his head, causing locks of bleached blonde to twist away from his eyes. The bully gasped as he locked eyes with unusual violet orbs contorted with hate and disgust. "Your worst nightmare," was his reply before something hard jammed into cheek and oblivion swallowed him.
Sobbing with relief, Ryou got up from his position on the ground and staggered to the newcomer. Warm arms wrapped around his shoulders in a comforting hug.
"Are you okay?"
Ryou nodded. "Th-Thank you." He choked out.
"Any time. I hate jerks like them anyway."
Surprised, Ryou glanced up. The boy was his age! Or around his age. Seven, probably, though he was a head taller than Ryou, and could've passed for his older brother. The boy had long, bleached blonde hair that brushed against his shoulders and a pair of stunning lilac orbs.
"I'm Malik Ishtar. Who are you?"
"Ryou... Ryou Bakura." Ryou replied, suddenly shy.
"You're hand... It's bleeding." Malik pointed to Ryou's right hand. And sure enough, a thin rivulet of blood trickled from a wound across the pale skin. "Here," Malik fished in his pocket for something. Drawing out a cream-coloured handkerchief with the word ISHTAR embroidered on one corner, Malik commanded, "Hold out your hand."
Ryou obeyed and reached out his hand for Malik to gently bandage. Malik, as light as a kitten, folded the material over the wound before tying a loose knot on top. "There you go," he grinned. "My big sister Isis makes me bring a handkerchief everywhere I go."
Ryou smiled in response. "Thank you. It must be wonderful to have an older sister."
Malik smiled. "You wanna see her? She's just around over there." He gestured towards the park bench several metres away. A pretty sixteen-year old girl with shoulder-length black hair sat there, a novel in her hand.
"C'mon," with another light tug, Malik--
RING! RING! RIIINNNGGGGGGGG!
"Urgh!"
Ryou shot up from bed with an annoyed expression on his pale face. His fist automatically bolted out from underneath white sheets and blankets and pounded on the snooze button of the alarm clock. The beeping immediately stopped.
Moaning, Ryou sank back into the sea of rumpled sheets and blankets. He closed his chocolate-brown spheres and concentrated on the dream -- or memory, if you prefer -- he had before the blasted alarm went off.
It was of his first meeting with his childhood friend, Malik Ishtar. But a dream is just a dream, and it splintered away at the first sign of wakefulness. Ryou sighed, "Not again. I was so close..." He groaned.
Finally defeated, Ryou kicked away the covers from his half-naked body and slowly rose from the queen-sized bed. Hobbling like an old man, Ryou sleepily staggered across the room to his closet. Halfway there, he noticed the calendar hanging from one wall.
In the direct centre was today's date, circled in a thick red marker. It was his eighteenth birthday.
Without another thought, his mind drifted away to another memory...
It had been approximately ten years ago. Malik and Ryou had become friends. No, they've become best buddies, always there for each other through the thick and thin, black and blue, mist and rain. However different the two were, they were as close as brothers.
One day, however, everything changed.
Malik went back to Egypt. Ryou could still remember their last REAL conversation as though it was yesterday.
"Why do you have to go?" Ryou had pleaded.
Malik evaded Ryou's gaze and fiddled with his hands. "Because I have to. I'm sorry, Ryou. I just have to..."
Ryou grew desperate. "Please stay. For me?"
Taking the small, porcelain-like hands in his own, Malik locked his violet orbs with Ryou's. "I'm sorry, Ryou. But I must leave."
Tears welled up in Ryou's eyes. "Will you come back?" he inquired, swallowing an oversized lump in his throat.
There was a pause as Malik considered this. Ryou silently noted a chime of hesitation in his voice. "Yes. I will be back... On your eighteenth birthday..."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
But that had been a long time ago, and Ryou wasn't even sure if Malik remembered it. Crossing his fingers -- and his heart -- Ryou snatched his daily attire (a white shirt and trousers) before entering the shower.
- To Be Continued -
Author's Pointless Note: I know I don't deserve it, but please review? Pretty please? **does puppy dog eyes** Pwetty pwease with suga on top????? Thanks a bunch ^_______________^