Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ White Angel Red ❯ Chapter 1

AN: This fic is hereby dedicated to Tjay Motou; it would never have been written without her out-of-the-blue scary deman - er, request XD Naw, I make a funny, thanx for giving me a reason to get my butt in gear and write some RxB again :) This fic also probably would not have been born, or at least would have been drastically different, if the latest issue of Shojo Beat hadn't turned up on the very same day that I decided this would be about vampires. Anyone out there read Vampire Knight? Well, you certainly don't have to - in fact, people who do might be somewhat annoyed with having to be reintroduced to its world - but the setting is lifted practically verbatim from that series, and the introduction is also almost word-for-word (with one small but significant change). Any characters that you don't recognize are from Vampire Knight, but don't worry, they're only mentioned briefly. But anyhoo, enough of my obsessive babbling; I hope everyone enjoys this sick, twisted thing- and remember, reviews are greatly appreciated ;)

 

***************************************************************** *******

 

White X Angel X Red

 

***************************************************************** *******

 

“White angel...”

 

What is `angel'? What is `white'?

 

It is something that is not red. Something red... is...

 

“...may I drink your blood?”

 

***************************************************************** *******

 

Vampires. They are beasts in human form, who drink the blood from living humans.

 

Vampires do exist. You just don't realize they're there...

 

***************************************************************** *******

 

“Bakura-kun? Is it true that you have a brother in the night class?”

 

Cross Academy, a distinguished boarding school, is famous for housing many of the finest young geniuses in the country. It has been this way since before anyone can remember - which is fortunate, because it draws attention away from the more peculiar aspects of the establishment. Just for instance, the students are split in to two groups, and while the groups use the same building for instruction, they are never permitted to come in contact with each other; this feat is achieved by holding classes for one group during the day, and the other during the night. No one seems to know what determines which group you are sorted into - at least, no one in the day class does...

 

“Bakura-kun?”

 

Ryou, who had tensed on the first utterance of his name, finally forced his eyes away from the window. He smiled meekly. “Ano, sorry?”

 

The brunette, to her credit, held back a sigh, and said with infinite patience: “I heard from Miho-chan that some people are saying you have a brother in the night class - he's supposed to be your twin, even! Is it true?”

 

Ryou tilted his head curiously. “Is that so? I can't imagine why anyone would say that; you know I don't have a brother, Mazaki-san.”

 

Anzu shrugged her delicate shoulders. “Well then, I suppose it's just a rumor. He's supposed to look just like you... But then again, if I haven't seen him, then I guess he can't be real!” She winked; it was well known that Anzu was a loyal follower of the night student Kuran Kaname, and she ogled the night class up to the very last second during the daily changeovers hoping to catch a glimpse of him. The wink was followed by a sigh, however, and she slumped over her desk with her chin in her hands. “I wish you did, though; he might've known him...” Ryou just shook his head good-naturedly - there was no doubt whom `him' referred to - and returned to his window-gazing.

 

It was their last class of the day, and as he watched, the sun began to set behind the clouds. Brilliant blood reds, tangerine oranges, and nail-polish pinks spilled across the sky, and the overflow splashed across the buildings and the lawn and lit the trees on fire. Ryou's pencil scratched across his notebook, filling the page with illegible scrawl because his eyes were fixed on the sunset, but it would've been sloppy even if he had been paying attention because his hand was shaking.

 

Tonight, I will not go. The trembling became so severe that Anzu cast him a concerned glance, and he forced his hand to be still. Tonight, I will not go. All I have to do is make it to my room, and I will be safe; the disciplinary committee will see to that. The disciplinary committee was a group of day class students who enforced the separation between the day and night classes - the problem with the committee, Ryou reflected, was that it was comprised of only two students.

 

Tonight, I will not go...

 

The class ended just as the reds in the sky were beginning to fade to purple. Ryou gathered up his sloppy notebook and his stub of a pencil and shoved them into his tattered bag, and filed out with the other students. As they crossed the campus he was careful to stick to the middle of the herd, just in case the one he was avoiding somehow sensed his intentions, but of course he was not with the other members of the night class as the two groups met and merged. He never was, and as Cross and Kiryu, the two disciplinary committee members, shouted the students back where they belonged, Ryou wondered dreamily if perhaps the other boy was not a member of the night class at all, but a ghost who had haunted the campus since time out of mind... or even just a figment of his imagination who haunted him...

 

The day class reached their dormitory without mishap, and Ryou climbed the stairs to his room on the third floor. He could've had more space if he'd taken a shared room, but he didn't have many things - and more importantly, even though he was glad that he'd been able to make some friends at this school, he still needed a lot of time alone. The only company he'd normally had before this had been his sister Amane, and now that she...

 

He let his mind go blank, and dumped his textbooks out on his modest desk to begin working on his homework.

 

By the time he was finished, night had fallen completely, and he got up and shut his curtains. Then he simply stood there, one sickly-thin hand still clutching the gauzy material, for a very long time.

 

The problem, truth be told, was that Ryou didn't quite know what to do with spare time. He wasn't used to having any. What did the other kids do, he wondered. What did Yuugi and Jou do after they finished their homework for the evening? He was vaguely aware of a common room located somewhere in the building, but he'd never been there since his tour on the first day.

 

The curtains were sheer, and he could see faint lights - just a little too faint, one would think - from the classroom building. A chill autumn breeze ruffled the silken cloth, and his fingers clenched convulsively around it. He could have sworn the window had been shut when he'd pulled the curtains over it...

 

And then he was not alone anymore in his little room. He could not say how he'd come to know this, but the knowledge was in him with all the strength of a spiritual epiphany. He did not turn around.

 

White angel, the wind whispered, and then, louder: “Ryou.” Ryou did not answer, and then there was a gentle tug on his hair as fingers weaved their way through it. “I need you,” the wind whispered, just beside his ear. The hand in his hair tilted his head tenderly to the side, and warm breath rippled across the exposed portion of his neck, and he shuddered, the first acknowledgement he had given. “You need me...” The breath was followed by petal-soft lips - the first touch was like being struck by lightening - and when they parted to suckle lightly at his flesh, Ryou redoubled his grip on the curtains. A hot tongue lazily traced quickly-cooling trails across his skin; arms wrapped around his waist to pull him flush with another warm body; something hard pressed against his neck...

 

“So hungry,” the other boy muttered, sounding almost distracted, as Ryou wrenched away. He regained his composure after only a moment, however, and hooked a finger 'round Ryou's chin to force him to look up. Eyes glittered in the darkness, and it was impossible to tell whether they merely caught the moonlight, or if they burned with their own internal fire. “What were you planning to do?” he said quietly, sardonically. “You know what would happen... That girl who sits next to you, she would be first...” Ryou moaned, and looked away. White flashed in the darkness as the other boy smiled.

 

“Come with me,” was all he said. Ryou did not protest, nor did he resist when pianist's fingers wrapped themselves around his equally slender wrist and led him out into the hall.

 

They encountered no one on their way out of the building. As they flitted from one empty, dimly-lit corridor to another, Ryou wondered idly whether the other boy simply knew how to find the path of least resistance, or if he somehow cast this pall of loneliness and darkness around himself.

 

As they went, half-running, Ryou used the opportunity to take in the other boy's appearance while he could, because he knew there would be no light where they were going. It was true that he looked very much like him; the only instantly apparent dissimilarity was that he was wearing the white night class uniform, whereas Ryou's uniform was black. No, the disparity was in the details - his companion's long white hair was wilder, unkempt, and his brown eyes were tainted with a red sheen... The most striking difference of all, though, once you really looked, was in the expression. This other boy's face was all lines and sharp angles, focused, hungry...

 

Bakura. His first name was lost in the shadows of their shared past, but it seemed odd to Ryou to call him by a name that was his own as well. Though he did not call him this, he had taken to thinking secretly of him as Yami. An odd little smile crossed his face.

 

That's right. My yami - my darkness. My brother.

 

And then they were out of the building and the night had swallowed them up, and they were just two more shadows flying from shadow to shadow across the darkened lawn. Ryou clung tightly to Bakura's hand and struggled to keep up. They passed the disciplinary committee members on their way, but the other two students never saw a thing.

 

At length they entered another building - the night class's Moon Dorm, which was located directly across the campus from the Sun Dorm... probably to stop things like this from happening, Ryou couldn't help but think... The halls were pitch and vacant this time of night, as all the building's inhabitants were currently in class, but Bakura knew his way and his pace never slowed until they reached his room, tucked away in a corner on the first floor.

 

The room was a splendid display of decadence, in gothic black and blood hues. The bed featured prominently - a hulking shadowed monster in the center of the room, swathed in black sheets and dripping black hangings shot through with red - and Ryou's gaze stuck on it as Bakura drifted across the room to the window. The blinds fell, blocking out even the moonlight, and the shadows blurred together.

 

The ghost approached him out of the mist, laid its hands on his shoulders, and pressed a kiss to his lips that was shocking in its chastity. Then it gave him a push; white hair billowed around him as he fell, in an instant that seemed to last forever, and then he landed with a soft `whoomph' on the bed, and discovered that only half the hair had been his because the ghoul had followed him down.

 

There were no more chaste kisses. Bakura's tongue delved into Ryou's mouth; teeth clashed against fang; it was as if he was trying to devour him from the inside out. Ryou did not resist; how could he, when everything in the world was collapsing in on him? He clutched his yami's hair and kissed him back, ardently but submissively, always so submissively.

 

Bakura slipped a hand between his legs then, and a high keening sound escaped Ryou's throat as Bakura sniggered cruelly into his lips over how taut the cloth there was already pulled. Almost as cruel was how he moved his hand away again after only an instant; Ryou was almost moved to begging right then and there - not five minutes after you first laid eyes on him tonight, you pathetic - but pride and fear still won out. “Bakura,” he choked out, though he had no idea what he wanted to say beyond that.

 

The dark one snarled into his jaw. “No talking,” he hissed. The command was backed up a moment later as some piece of cloth was forced roughly into his mouth - a handkerchief, Ryou thought. He choked on it in a moment of panic, squirmed, but Bakura merely forced his hands above his head and settled his weight down on Ryou's stomach. The jolt that went through him made him go limp, and the dark spirit smirked down at him as he undid his tie.

 

Ryou watched as if hypnotized the long fingers as they played across the silken strand of moonlight; stared unblinkingly up into his sibling's face as he used it to fasten his wrists to a bedpost. Yes, he thought, this is good, this is what I need. This way, it will not be my fault...

 

Ryou's tie was removed next, tossed carelessly aside to land somewhere on the floor with the softest whisper of a sound. Bakura lavished greedy kisses across his neck until his collar got in the way, and then he hastily undid all the buttons. Ryou closed his eyes as cold fingers splayed across his chest, in an effort to reduce his surroundings to a series of meaningless sensations. It was all truly absurd, he thought, that he wasn't used to this by now.

 

The truth, he thought, as Bakura swirled his tongue around his left nipple and lightly pinched the other, what is the truth anymore? Perhaps he should give in and just allow himself to enjoy this, because it would happen one way or another... because he would enjoy it one way or another... Cruel teeth bit down on his nipple just shy of drawing blood, and tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he groaned and arched away...

 

Bakura moved back abruptly, to toss aside Ryou's shoes and socks and jerk his pants down and away in one deft movement. Ryou screwed his eyes shut tighter as he felt his boxers follow them, and a chilled breeze danced across him - but only for a moment. His entire body tensed as a breath of warm air ghosted over his erect length, and an instant later his eyes flew wide as hot wetness enveloped him.

 

The salty taste of pre-cum filled his mouth, and Bakura moaned involuntarily, making Ryou writhe all the more. This act was the sweetest torture - all that blood, flowing into his mouth with each suck just as it should, but separated by one tantalizing layer of skin... it was...

 

Ryou shuddered, guessing what he was feeling or near enough. An all-consuming sense of shame filled him up for the hundredth time - because he needed this danger, because he would do anything for it because nothing else would make him... Bright lights dappled the insides of his eyelids as his stomach clenched... He groaned again, deep in his throat, as Bakura pulled away.

 

It was only as the branches of the gnarled tree outside clawed at the window that Ryou realized the rushing sound in his ears was not his imagination. It was impossible to imagine that the uncanny light in Bakura's eyes was a reflection of some outside source, as he knelt between Ryou's legs and undid his pants.

 

Bakura did not bother to prepare him, or give him any time to prepare mentally, but merely forced inside him. This had happened so many times before that it barely hurt. Ryou wrapped his legs around Bakura's hips to give him a better angle and closed his eyes, to daydream that this was anyone but Bakura, that he didn't need it to be Bakura...

 

“Open your eyes,” Bakura murmured, almost as if he knew what he was thinking, and Ryou obeyed. He stared unblinkingly into Bakura's eyes as he jerked quickly in and out of him, and was satisfied to think that his brother must have found this at least a little creepy, as he bent down to nuzzle at Ryou's neck. Ryou closed his eyes again now that Bakura couldn't see, and knew that they both must be getting close...

 

Needles pierced his neck, and he moaned in pain. It was the feeling of Bakura lapping eagerly at the stray rivulets of blood escaping around his teeth that sent him over the edge; Bakura followed seconds later, and for a moment there was a perfect circle of give-and-take between them.

 

After that they fell asleep without a word, to the sound of the wicked wind and the tree scrabbling at the window. Ryou knew that in the morning he would wake up in his room without any memory of how he'd gotten there, and he would wonder briefly whether Bakura had actually carried him there, or if it had all been a dream... More importantly, however, he would wonder whether, even though he did not drink blood, he truly belonged in the day class.

 

Vampires do exist. You just don't realize they're there...

 

Owari