Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ White Shadows ❯ A New Life ( Chapter 4 )

Gomen for the long wait, and thanks to all my readers! The reviews always help! (hint hint.) Anyway, I know this is short, and doesn't really advance the plot…but I think it's interesting.

Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh!. If I did, the whole Doom arc would never have been made.

White Shadows 3 - New Life

I don't know how many times I've tried to die now. It doesn't matter - it never works. Every time I wake to find myself tucked into bed, clean and with a no-doubt disgustingly healthy meal in my stomach.

I can't die. I can never die, and it's all his fault. I may go mad in white linen, but no matter what happens he will always take care of me.

Ryou.

My hikari.

My insane Ryou, who says he loves me.

Damn him.

Damn him!

I've had to take over the life my hikari left behind when I killed him. Not that I want to, but there is little choice in the matter if I want to keep food on the table and Child Welfare services out of my hair. So now I go to school, eat, sleep and try to pretend that everything is wonderful.

I may end up killing those stupid girls if they don't stop giggling at me.

The Pharaoh and his brat are still in my class, but I refuse to speak to either of them. Yugi did this to me… put this curse on me… and I know that if I ever spoke with either one of them I would utterly humiliate myself, begging them to take the spell off. Anything to be free of this hell.

But they won't…I know they won't. I won't put myself through that for nothing. Atem will just put on his air of superiority and Yugi will give me his 'you did this to yourself' look. Then I would have to kill them. Not that Ryou would let me.

:You haven't eaten yet, Bakura-chan: Ryou whispers in my mind.

:I'll eat at lunchtime.: I wrinkle my nose in disgust. Now I will have to make good on my promise - or pay the consequences. Ryou is very particular about making sure I take care of myself.

Like the time I tried to go three weeks without a bath. I blacked out and woke clean, my skin almost rubbed raw, and had to listen to a lecture on hygiene for most of an hour.

:Make sure it's more than ramen and fish. You need your vegetables.:

I don't answer. Instead I concentrate on the teacher, who's rambling on about some war that happened fifty years ago. These modern schools are a waste of time and effort… I'd rather be out supplementing my income.

:Stealing is wrong, yami.: Ryou notes quietly. I felt a shifting in the Ring and suppress a shudder.

:I'm not going out stealing, Ryou.: A wash of contentment flows through me; reward for good behaviour, I imagine. Bastard.

Why won't he just let me die? Is it the curse? No…he IS my curse, the bane of my unwanted existence.

:Love you, Kura-chan: Ryou giggles again, his mood shifting like sand in a windstorm. I try to shrug out of his mental hug. :Love you always, mou hitori no boku.:

Damn him. I hate him. My weakling other half - but he's not so weak anymore, is he? Yugi - damn the brat to Hell for a thousand thousand years! - gave him the powers of the Ring. I can't use it anymore. I have no power. None.

The lunch bell rings - I stand with the rest of the sheep and walk out of the room into a hallway full of bodies. I growl as I see the 'girls' heading towards me, ready to kidnap me again. I hate that - I really, really want to do something permanent to them, but my hikari says that's not nice. And stealing isn't moral - and killing is wrong too. Fucking hikari and his fucking modern standards of right and wrong.

I reach out and slip a wallet out of a passing pocket, the owner never noticing. I smile as the thrill of victory runs through me - nice to know I haven't lost my touch.

:Bad Bakura.: Ryou scolds me before the world quite suddenly goes black.

I wake in my soul room, a place filled with the remnants of my previous life in Egypt as well as a massive collection of knives from all over the world. I like it here - I used to spend most of my time in here, leaving the minute details of living to Ryou. I would use his body when I needed to, but I paid my rent - protecting him from nasty people and granting his wishes - albeit in my own fashion.

There is only one option left. I need the Millennium Items.

Yugi - may he be eaten by Ammet - stripped me of the ability to use the Ring, but not the other items. Getting a hold of them might be difficult, but not impossible. I still have the Eye…but I will need to think long and hard before using it. The power it contains is considerable - and so is the price of it's use.

Suddenly the wall of my soul room begins to shift and I groan, filing my thoughts far back in the recesses of my mind. Ryou's coming - I know what that means.

Like an angel he floats into my soul-room, the light from his robes and one white wing blinding. The other wing is black and crippled, broken; his left arm is maimed inside the cloth. It's strange, but he only looks like that in my soul-room - in his own, he looks much as he did alive.

He smiles gently at me…"You've been a bad boy, Bakura. What do you say?"

I clench my jaw and say nothing. Maybe this time I can hold out for a little longer.

His eyes narrow as he gestures, waving his good hand. The shadows of the room swirl over my limbs, hanging me spread-eagled in midair. "Don't make me do this, Bakura." He floats closer, runs a gentle hand through my hair. "You know stealing is wrong - all you have to do is say you're sorry. Then I will forgive you, my yami."

I spit in his face. "You and your fucking stupid morality can go to Hell, you little shit."

I smirk as his features twist in anger, his good hand closing into a fist. Then he laughs quietly.

"Oh, Kura-chan, you are so angry. I'm sorry for this." He drops his good and and brings up the maimed one. I frown - he's hit me, beaten me, even whipped me once. But he's never used his maimed hand before. What is he doing?

The withered fingers close over my head and the world shifts.

{Rain flickers through the grates of my cage, the rare rainfall that graces Khemet in the spring. I try to catch the drops on my tongue - it has been three days since I was fed, and two since they gave me water. To tame me, the slave-masters claim. I will not be tame for the spawn of those who killed my family. I will kill them with my own two hands; I will strip the Pharaoh of his treasures - from his tomb if I must. I will dishonour his name and his grave and take my vengeance to any and all who share his blood…

One of the guards opens my cage and hauls me out, my eleven year old body unable to struggle against his strength. He throws me against the wall in a room that is dry; I land at the feet of a slave-master. He grins down at me.

"Ready to serve me now, little pale one?" he asks. I snarl at him, clawing and biting as I attack like a beast. No one will break me.

He throws me off him, his fist connecting with my ribs. I hear the crunch of bone but twist to my feet, fists raised. The bastard smiles at me, amused.

"It seems I will have to teach you your place, Bakhura." A smile firms his lips at my look of surprise. How had he discovered my name? He reaches for me, backhanding me when I try to bite. Then he starts to beat me.

I feel the break of bones in my chest, my arm, even the crack of my skull hitting the hard dirt floor, making me see stars.

"I'm sorry, little one, but this is for your own good." the slave-master smiles gently as I glare at him helplessly. He reaches for my kilt, stripping it from my body, leaving me exposed. I try to squirm, but the pain is too much; I can't move.

He grabs me -I cry out as the motion grates my broken bones together. He strips off his robe and loincloth. I close my eyes at the hardness of his body, turning away. Pain exploded through me as he forced himself in me - I felt as thought I might split in two.

Pain.

Agony as he thrust faster.

Red echoes explode behind my eyes.

Screams.

Begging.

Pleading.

Tears.

"I'm sorry…"

^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^V^ V^V^V

When he's done, he holds my broken body close, the blood from my wounds never staining his white robes. My mouth is moving, whispering "I'm sorry" wetly over and over again. The pain…Ra, it hurts. But not as much as the humiliation. My cheeks burn as I lay cuddled in his arms.

"Of course I forgive you, my beloved yami. You know I don't like doing this to you, but I love you so much and this is for your own good."

I cough on the blood flowing from my mouth, licking my lips and savouring the taste; someday I will taste his sweet blood when I kill him for good.

I hate him. I hate him forever.