Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Shadow and Light ❯ Chapter 2

Author's Notes:

Reviews are nice.

 

Warnings: See the first chapter. I don't like repeating myself.

 

Disclaimer: I don't own `em. Damnmit.

 

Chapter 2

 

The trouble with many men, Bakura mused, was that they were like those old-fashioned gas lamps - nice to look at but not too bright. These wondering thoughts occurred to him, of course, as he observed certain members of the City Watch, some of Melar's finest, most up-standing members of society.

 

The group of guards had stopped by the inn's tavern now that they were off-duty, and their captain, quite drunk, was making life a misery for every female and pretty male in the tavern. What made it worse was that no one liked to voice many objections because of the man's rank, and he knew it.

 

Bakura felt sorry for the serving girls and boys, and for one boy in particular, who seemed to have caught the captain`s special attention. The human lad was scarcely fifteen, an orphan taken in by the wife of the inn's owner. He worked to earn his keep, and did that work well, but was painfully shy. Bakura could see that it was pure torment for him to go to the Watch's table.

 

He was a pretty little thing, with black and red hair that stuck up everywhere and sweet violet eyes. His fair skin spoke of a parentage that was at least half-northern; his wild hair could have come from any of the provinces west of Lavor. His body was slender and his movements graceful, his limbs showing smooth, flat muscles. In a city known for the diversity of people inhabiting it, he was nothing special. But there was something about him...

 

“Come here,” Bakura said, not lifting his voice above a murmur, but the words nonetheless carrying clearly to the boy. The human approached Bakura with noticeable relief. “I want a double Avery with lime on the side.”

 

The boy nodded. “Yes, sir.” The server gratefully escaped to the bar to get the order. Bakura lazily played with a lock of his silver-white hair, watching the captain with narrowed eyes filled with scorn.

 

The boy retrieved Bakura's order, but to bring it to Bakura he had to pass by the Watch's table. He attempted to slip by them quietly, without success. The captain grabbed his arm as he passed.

 

He took a large swig of his beer and belched. “Whatsa pretty thing like you doin' inna bar?” he slurred, eyes running lustfully down his body.

 

“I'm working to earn my keep here,” the boy answered quietly, trying to edge away.

 

The man tightened his grip, and his lustful gaze grew to a full-out leer. “I knowa place where you'd be more welcome. Real welcome.”

 

Scum. Bakura stood.

 

The boy tried to pull away again. “Let me go. There's others I must see to.”

 

The captain hauled him close to him, and Bakura`s drink flew out of the boy`s hand, the glass shattering on the stone floor. “Ask me nicely first,” he rasped into his face, taking no notice of the damage. He turned his head away from the man's stinking breath, and yet again tried to pull away.

 

A hand lashed at the captain's arm just at the elbow; his grip loosened, then his arm fell, temporarily numb. He stared at his hand, stunned.

 

Bakura stepped back, eyes emotionless. “Get out of here,” he advised the human.

 

The boy didn't move. “I did not ask for your help,” he said softly.

 

Pride? Bakura glanced at the boy in some surprise. So there was more to the human than met the eye. Bakura shrugged coolly. “I wasn't helping you,” he said carelessly. “This scum has gotten on my nerves for a while.” He turned his attention to the guard. “You know, that was my drink you made him spill,” he said softly.

 

Drunken scorn flashed across the man's face, and he opened his mouth to say something.

 

Just then, life came back into the captain's arm, and with it pain. Instead of speaking, the large man let out a bellow of anger. His hand balled into a fist, swinging at Bakura in a vast roundhouse swipe that would have annihilated anything it struck.

 

But Bakura ducked under and to the side and, as the fist went by him, reached up behind the captain's shoulder and gave a solid push to add momentum to the swing. The captain spun around; Bakura caught the man's right wrist and twisted it up behind his back.

The man tried to wrench away, but Bakura held him, his eyes darkening from rusty brown to crimson as the shapeshifter invoked his superior strength. A mocking smile curved his lips as the guards backed away in alarm. He jerked the man's wrist up a little higher; the captain howled. While he was howling, Bakura's arm snaked under the man's armpit to catch the back of his neck in a half nelson.

 

He planted a knee in the man's backside as he released his holds; the captain blundered into the open space between the table and the hearth, tried to catch his balance, and didn't make it.

 

He came to his knees, shaking his head dazedly, to see Bakura standing before him in a wrestler's crouch, smiling grimly and beckoning with both arms.

 

The captain growled low in his throat and braced a foot against the stones that surrounded the hearth. He shot straight for Bakura like a bull. He gracefully sidestepped, and stuck out a foot. Again the man went flailing, this time straight into a row of tables. Bakura winced and looked away as there was an extremely loud crashing sound.

 

He looked apologetically towards the bartender, who was the owner of the inn. “Forgive the disturbance. I'll pay for the damages, I assure you.” The bar was his favorite.

 

“I don't mind,” the bartender said quietly. “It's about time someone showed that man his place.”

 

Bakura smiled. “I am happy to have been of service.“ The shapeshifter sauntered out of the room, his eyes once more the rusty brown they were accustomed to being when he was in human form.

 

The wild-haired boy watched him go, thinking, All that time...he was toying with him. He was playing.

 

Bakura Sky sprawled on his bed and sighed. Human males could be more idiotic than any of the other males of the races he was acquainted with. Really, you'd think once he saw my eyes turn crimson he'd back off. But no - he had to prove he was better than me. Ah, well. At least I had some fun. Of course, he'll be after my blood now, but that goes without saying. Perhaps he'll hire a professional to take care of me. That ought to ease my boredom for a few minutes at least. He sighed again. I want something to do.

 

There was a knock on his door. “Come!”

 

It was the serving boy he'd helped out earlier. Bakura rolled onto his stomach and stared, waiting.

 

The crimson haired boy stared at him, then said, “You were playing. You were playing with that guard.”

 

Bakura shrugged lazily and turned over on his back again, letting his eyes drift half-closed. “I was bored.”

 

“Could you teach me to fight like that?”

 

Bakura's eyes closed completely. “Skills like that aren't gained in a day, kid. And I'm not hanging around here for too long. Find someone else to teach you self-defense. In a city this big, it shouldn't be hard.”

 

“I don't want to learn self-defense; I know some of those kinds of techniques already. I want to learn the offensive techniques you used.”

 

“Offensive techniques?” Bakura snorted. “I used the big idiot's strength against him, that's all - anyone can do that if they have sharp-enough eyes to pick out their opponent's moves.” He smirked. “Not that that particular idiot had any proper moves to speak of.”

 

“Will you train my eyes, then?” the boy asked softly.

 

Something about his tone made Bakura open his eyes and sit up. He got off the bed and walked up to the boy. His right fist lashed out. The boy promptly ducked, but what impressed Bakura was that he managed to avoid the left jab that completed the move as well by spinning sharply to one side.

 

“Well, well,” Bakura murmured. He tested the boy's reflexes a bit more, and was pleased with what he saw. However...

 

“You're sharp, and I wouldn't mind teaching you. But like I said, I'm a traveler, a wanderer. I won't be here long enough to teach you anything of value.” Bakura waited. If the boy wanted this badly enough...

 

The boy drew in a deep breath. “Let me come with you, then, wherever you're going. Please.”

 

Bakura regarded the boy. “Convince me.”

 

“What?” The boy blinked in confusion.

 

“Give me a reason to take you with me,” Bakura said bluntly. “I'm not taking some crybaby that I'll have to look after every step of the way. How will you be of use to me?”

 

The boy was still. Then, “I can cook pretty decently. I can mend anything, including shoes, and I have some basic healing knowledge. I'm a decent rider-”

 

“Of what?” Bakura interrupted.

 

The boy blinked, then saw his meaning. “I can handle horses and ponies pretty well, bareback and saddled. I'm not experienced with foreign animals; the closest I've come to one of them is a candro,” referring to the massive eagle-like creatures that sometimes formed partnerships with those that had the Gift of animal mindspeech.

 

That caught Bakura's attention. “You have a Gift?”

 

The boy looked down. “Yes, sir. I have animal mindspeech and empathy with humans, to some extent.”

 

Bakura nodded, eyes thoughtful. “Continue.”

 

“I don't know how to track, but I can recognize many wild plants that are edible or can be used for healing. I can't use magic myself, but I can definitely feel when it's being used around me.”

 

This interested Bakura as well. He'd heard of humans with gifts like that, not being able to use power themselves, but being able to feel its workings. It was often an advantage in the wild north, where many of the untamed creatures possessed raw magic.

 

“I-” The boy hesitated, then said, “I have no prejudices against other races. The people that have been the most kind to me...were not human.”

 

Bakura nodded again.

 

“I-” The boy took a breath. “I will not complain about the pace you set. I am used to hard work, and travel is work.”

 

At this, Bakura smiled. “If you understand that, you are wiser than I first believed you,” he commented. He stood from his seat on the bed, and walked up to the boy. “What is your name?”

 

The boy looked up, and Bakura saw the hope start in his eyes. “I was called Yugi.”

 

“Do you have a surname?”

 

Color rose in the boy's face, but when he answered his voice was steady. “No, sir.”

 

“Good,” Bakura said crisply. Confusion flashed across the boy's face. “You have nothing to tie you to anywhere, then.”

 

The boy's face cleared, and he looked up hopefully at Bakura.

 

Abruptly, Bakura clasped the boy's hand with his own. “I am Bakura Sky.” He paused, looking down at Yugi. “I am a shapeshifter.”

 

Yugi's grip on Bakura's hand did not falter. “That explains why your eyes change color.”

 

So the human was not easily shocked. I like this boy, Bakura decided. “I'm leaving tomorrow morning. If you're coming with me, you'd better be ready.”

 

“Thank you!” Gratitude flooded Yugi's face. “You won't regret this!”

 

“If you go teary on me, I will,” Bakura said uncomfortably. “Get outta here. And if you change your mind...”

 

“I won't.” The boy's head came up fiercely.

 

“I said, if you change your mind on me, you'll be sorry.” Yugi grinned and left the room.

 

“Shy little human, huh?” Bakura muttered. “Well, I got what I wanted. Something to do...” he trailed off, and sighed.

 

Bakura woke a little before dawn, as was his lifelong habit. He rose from his bed and paced to his window to watch the sunrise. The sun's rays were red as blood, and he felt a sense of foreboding. His kind were very sensitive to the movements of the future, and his subtle senses told him something of great import would happen, and soon. Something that would shake the roots of the very world itself.

 

“Good morning, Master Bakura!” He turned to see that Yugi stood in his doorway, a kerchief knotted around the few things he wanted to bring with him, eyes sparkling and hair in more disarray than usual.

 

Bakura eyed him, and asked, “Did you sleep at all?”

 

“Not very much,” the boy admitted with a sheepish grin.

 

“You will regret that.” Bakura turned back to the sunrise, and stared at the sun broodingly.

 

“Umm...Master Bakura...?”

 

“We'll leave directly after breakfast,” Bakura said without turning around. “I suggest you take the time to get what rest you can before that.”

 

“I - yes, sir,” the boy mumbled.

 

“And my name is Bakura. Not Master Bakura. Not sir. Bakura.”

 

Though Bakura still did not turn around, he sensed the brightening of the boy's expression. “I'll be ready after breakfast, then,” Yugi said quietly, and slipped away from the room.

 

Once breakfast was finished, Bakura crumpled his napkin and stared at his plate for a moment, thinking about the warning touch his sense of the future had given his that morning.

 

“Mast - I mean, Bakura, is something wrong?” Yugi hastily corrected himself.

 

Bakura shook himself free of the foreboding. There was no point in brooding on it; what would come, would come. “Sorry, kid,” he said gruffly. “Mornings aren't my thing.”

 

“Oh,” and there was relief in Yugi's face. “That's all right. I - I'm not much for mornings either.”

 

A smile of wry humor flickered across Bakura's face. “You were today,” he pointed out, making Yugi smile shyly. He rose. “Well, are you ready?”

 

“Yes,” Yugi said softly, his eyes beginning to shine like stars.

 

Bakura paid the bill for his stay. The innkeeper shook his head wistfully. “It's a good boy you're taking from my inn, wanderer. Be kind to him.”

 

Bakura looked straight into his eyes. “I will.”

 

The two stepped out of the inn and onto the already-busy street, and Bakura was pleased to note that Yugi did not look back. He paused for a moment, taking in the sounds and scents of Melar's main marketplace, keen eyes noting certain stalls.

 

“Where will we go?” Yugi asked.

 

“Our first stop is to get you proper traveling gear and clothing,” Bakura answered, eyeing his new charge. “You won't last two days in those pants and flimsy shoes.”

 

“Oh,” Yugi answered meekly. Then, “I - I don't have much money -”

 

“I'm paying for the stuff,” Bakura said curtly. “I consider this part of your education while you are in my charge. Since I've taken you under my wing, it's my job to see that you are properly clothed and fed. And travel wears clothing out fast.”

 

“Oh,” the boy said again, even more softly, but the look of utter gratefulness he gave Bakura made the shapeshifter`s normally stern face soften for a moment.

 

When they walked out of the clothing district, Yugi looked very different. He had been too shy to want to wear a short tunic and leggings the way Bakura did, opting instead for a longer green tunic that came down to his knees, though Bakura had insisted that slits be put up each side for easier movement. Under the tunic he wore loose dark brown trowsers. He'd exchanged his delicate cloth shoes for sturdy leather walking shoes, and a red headband held his wild hair out of his face. In addition, Bakura had bought several spare shirts, an extra pair of trowsers, and a cloak for cold weather, along with spare underclothing. Yugi couldn't stop stammering his thanks.

 

“I told you, it's nothing,” Bakura said gruffly; he really was coming to like this little human very well.

 

Bakura himself was still in human form; his extremely long silver-white hair was pulled back in a thick, heavy braid and hung down almost to his knees. He was clad in a brief sleeveless tunic of dark blue; underneath it was a long-sleeved shirt of white. His skin-tight trowsers, called leggings in that city, were also dark blue, and he wore well-worn dark brown boots. A small red bandana was tied over his braid, covering the top of his head.

 

He slung his own pack of purchases over one shoulder and handed Yugi's things to him. “You handle your own wares,” he was told.

 

Yugi nodded; he had expected that. “Where will we go now?”

 

“We'll get a few food supplies, and then we'll be heading for Androm.”

 

Yugi's face lit up. “The sylven city?”

 

Bakura nodded, pleased by Yugi's enthusiasm. “The same. I've some friends there who will help you learn more about herbs than I could. I want you to learn as much about healing as you will about fighting.”

 

Yugi looked up at him. “What did I do to deserve such kindness?”

 

Bakura glanced over his shoulder at him, the same sort of careless glance he'd given Yugi before he'd fought the guard. “I like you.”

 

Yugi did not yet fully understand Bakura's personality, but the timid smile on his face brightened considerably.

 

Suddenly, Bakura froze.

 

“Bakura...?”

 

Power began to ripple in the air about him as his aura flared to life. The people in the street shied away hastily. City Guards, alert for trouble, began to make their way toward them.

 

“Bakura!” Yugi said urgently.

 

“Not - now!” Bakura gasped. His aura was all golden and violet and crimson, the colors of sunset - and the multiple colors of an extremely powerful sorcerer. Magic began to flow about him like water.

 

Yugi began to tremble violently. “Bakura...” he whispered pleadingly; the sheer power of Bakura's magic was beating against his sixth sense painfully.

 

Bakura no longer heard anything of his surroundings, no longer knew anything of what was going on around him. His mind and spirit were far away, on a magical plane that could only be reached by those with the most powerful of spirits.

 

“Who summons me to this place?” Bakura shouted.

 

Silence.

 

“Dammit, who summons me?!” Bakura shouted again, angry.

 

Power rippled in the space before him. A woman appeared before him, a shapeshifter - in natural form.

 

“You have been chosen.” The spirit spoke softly, and yet her words reverberated into Bakura's very bones.

 

“For...what?” Bakura asked weakly.

 

“You must remember who you are, and who you were. If you do not...”

 

“Spirit, wait!”

 

The shapeshifter was gone.

 

“Bakura!” Yugi screamed the word as Bakura's power flared so greatly that pain tore at Yugi's feeble mental shields viciously.

 

The shapeshifter jolted. “Yugi, what...?” Then he saw that his aura was out of control. “Oh, hells.” He immediately suppressed his power, to the immense relief of those that surrounded him.

 

“Here now, what was this all about?” A female Guard pushed her way through the staring crowd, her expression no-nonsense.

 

“Forgive me,” Bakura said coldly and clearly. “A friend wished to speak with me. She was unaware that I was out on a public street.”

 

“Your friend a sorceress?” At Bakura's nod, the Guard said pointedly, “I'd suggest to your friend that she take the time to find out where you are before she contacts you like that again. If that's all, move along.”

 

“Of course.”

 

As Bakura hastily made his way out of the market place, Yugi grabbed his arm. “Just what was that all about?” the boy hissed; he had a right to be upset - his head was still throbbing from his up-close-and-personal encounter with Bakura's magical powers.

 

“Not here,” Bakura hissed back.

 

He waited until they'd walked out of the city itself and nearly a mile down the road before speaking.

 

Yugi listened without comment. Bakura sighed. He had a feeling that the spirit contact would happen again, and said so. “If it does, just get really far away from me. I may have to expand a great deal of power.” He glanced down at Yugi. “Having second thoughts about traveling with me?”

 

Yugi shook her head. “Nuh-uh.” He grinned shyly up at Bakura, no longer upset. “It's certainly going to be a lot more interesting than working at the inn!”

 

Bakura chuckled. “You have no idea, childing.”

 

“I'm not a child,” Yugi objected. “I'm nearly sixteen.”

 

“And I'm a hundred and twenty in human time, give or take a few years,” Bakura retorted.

 

“Oh!” Yugi subsided briefly, the asked, “So you've watched the Realm change all this past century? How old are you in shapeshifter terms?”

 

“Among my people, I suppose you could consider me eighteen or nineteen,” Bakura responded. He looked up at the sky. “As for the Realm changing, as far as my people are concerned, the day the Black Sorrow came was the day this land fell.” They walked in silence for a moment, then Bakura added, “The land has only changed for the worse since then.”

 

Yugi looked up at Bakura timidly. “Would you...would you tell me what you know of that time? I've only ever heard people speak of the Black Sorrow in curses.”

 

Bakura's gaze remained on the sky. “Later, Yugi. That time should not be spoken of...when the day is so beautiful.”

 

Yugi hesistated, then asked “So, are we still going to Androm?”

 

“Yes, but...we won't stay for long. A couple of weeks, maybe. Enough time for you to learn the basics of medical herbs, and for me to...seek out an old acquaintance. Then we'll move on.”

 

“To where?”

 

“That will depend.” Bakura didn't say what the decision would depend on.