Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine.
The poem “Lost” was written by yamato795 and I knew, the minute I read it that I had to put it in my story. Please be sure to give her lots of feedback on it. This chapter is made pretty much entirely of flashbacks and I warn you now that the beginning it pretty dark.
Joey:@_@
Y. Bakura: this is getting annoying, wake him up already!!!!
Dai-na: Do you want to go back in the closet?
Y. Bakura: I’ll be good! (shudders in fear)
Ryou: anou… Dai-na, maybe you should actually clean out your closet sometime.
Dai-na: Clean it out? All that’s in there is my old Care Bears toys and other stuffed animals.
Y. Bakura: …. The horror…..
And Everything Nice
By: Dai-onna
“Mama, mama!! Look what I brought you mama!” cried the small, white haired boy as he ran into the small house, his hands cradled around something tenderly. The beautiful young woman turned to him, eyes laughing. He had long, pale hair that matched his own, only it fell straight and here eyes were a rich brown that was deep and soothing. She smiled at the young boy as he bounded towards her and caught him in her arms. He hugged her tightly and then held up his gift for her inspection.
“Happy birthday, mama.”
The young woman squeaked a little as she took the
delicate bracelet from her son. He was looking up at her with an eager
expression and she smiled brightly and hugged him again, holding him close to
her chest. When she pulled back her expression was reprimanding but still fond.
“Where did you get this?” The small boy looked a little
sheepish and eyed his feet carefully.
“Well, there was this mean lady in the marketplace and
she had so many, I didn’t think she’d miss one.” He murmured. He looked so
contrite that the young woman couldn’t help but laugh. She looked up at the man
who stood next to her.
“He is most certainly your son.”
The handsome young man gave her a shameless smile and
held out his own gift to her. She gasped when she saw and was hesitant to touch
it. It was a beautiful gold ring with a pyramid in the center that had an eye
shaped design on it. Dangling from the ring were tiny spikes that glinted in
the light from the window.
“Oh my… Where on earth did you get this?” She asked, her
voice a reverent whisper.
The young man gave her a roguish grin.
“There was a man sneaking out of the palace last night. He
was carrying a lot so I decided to relieve him of it.” He explained. The woman
laughed at his innocent tone but looked slightly worried.
“But what if they come looking for it?” The young man
stroked her face lovingly and gave her a confident look.
“Don’t worry. He had taken so much that I doubt he’d even
know that it was missing.”
The woman nodded and put her fears aside before hugging
her husband and son, thanking them for their gifts.
In the dark of the night there came a fierce pounding on
the door and angry yelling from the outside that could be heard over the
pounding of the rain. The young boy didn’t know what it meant but he grew
afraid when his mother ran in, pale with her eyes wide. She slipped the ring
that she’d been given over his neck. It fell low on him and it was heavy but he
didn’t protest it. His mother opened the window and urged him out into the dark
rain, begging him to run as far as he could. He was scared and cold and didn’t
want to leave his parents behind.
When he looked back in the window though, he saw a
strange man in there with his parents. He was large and looked mean and the boy
ducked low at the window so he wouldn’t be seen.
He couldn’t hear what was being said but he saw the man
grab his father around the neck and hold a knife to him. Tears were running
down his mother’s cheeks as she appeared to plead with him. The strange man
dragged the knife over his father’s bare arms, littering is skin with deep
gashes, his blood trickling to the ground. Whatever it was that the man wanted
from his mother, she obviously wasn’t telling him.
Finally the man sliced his father’s throat and threw his
prone figure to the ground. His mother screamed but the sound was cut off when
he buried the knife in the woman’s stomach.
The small boy was held still watching the still bodies of
his parents as the man tossed the place apart, searching for something,
probably, he realized, the ring that hung around his neck.
After the man finally left the house, the boy carefully made his way back inside the window, warily approaching the still forms of his mother and father.
He walked towards them slowly, the sticky red stuff on
the floor coating his bare feet. “Mama? Mama, wake
up. Mama!!!!” The small boy fell to his knees beside the prone woman, unconcerned
with the blood seeping into his pale clothing. He pulled the woman’s head to
his chest, cradling it with his small hands, calling out to her over and over.
His eyes were wide and glazed over, almost as if he couldn’t even see anything
in front of him except the woman he held close. A pained scream was torn from
the boy’s throat before he broke down into a fit of furious sobs.
He set her back on the floor
and backed away from the two, his eyes wild and desperate.
“I won’t, I wont ever be hurt
like that… no one will ever hurt me. I won’t let them.” He whispered to
himself. He would let anybody matter that much to him, ever. That way they
could never be used against him.
Lost my heart; lost my soul
Lost the thing that made me
whole
Can’t find a way; too shy to
say
Lost my reason to face the day
Don’t come too close, just stay
away
No one can see me cry this way
He smirked as he shoved his
knife into the other’s gut, the man’s blood spilling out onto his hand,
trickling down his arm, staining his clothes. He sneered at the fallen man with
the face that had haunted him for nearly ten years. It was all behind him now,
his last tie to the past that he was determined to forget. His last memory. He
would never be that foolish or weak again and no one would ever get to him. He
needed nothing and no one except the knife in his hand and the ring around his
neck. For years he had cursed the thing and the problems that it had caused but
he’d found himself unable to rid himself of it. It was a part of him now, and a
constant reminder of all the things that he didn’t want to go back to.
He’d gotten his revenge. He
could move forward now.
Red as a rose; blue as the sky
Watching my life fly right by
Try to flap my wings, try to
play along
Forgot the words to my special
song
The tune is gone; the sun is
set
Too many things that I regret
He looked at the boy in front
of him and his stomach lurched. After being trapped inside the ring for so long
he had finally been release and now he stared into the eyes of the new owner of
the accursed treasure.
Eyes that matched his own.
The boy in front of him was his
mirror image and looking at him as if he was about to faint. Oh there were some
differences. His hair was softer, the spikes in the pale locks looking slightly
less lethal, his eyes were wider, still retain the innocence that he’d long
since forgotten. The image disturbed him. He sneered at the boy, catching him
off guard and smacked him across the face, sending him to the floor. The boy held
his cheek and stared up at him, stunned with tears welling in his eyes. It was
painfully obvious that the boy had never been struck before and he was sickened
by the weakness of the other and didn’t hesitate to tell him so. Even as time
passed and, to his great reluctance he began to grow fond of the other, he
never let up, trying his best to destroy that innocence before it got the
lighter one hurt the way it had him.
He watched from the ring as the
boy interacted with his friends, all the while silently cursing him for opening
himself to others and reminding him of his own pain. He would never be that
way, never be able to talk with ease to people about his life, his feelings
that he wished he didn’t have. He was content with that.
Shattered like glass, fallen
like a star
Can’t even remember who you are
Cracking from stress, trembling
from fear
Too afraid to let someone get
near
Defenseless and alone, no place
to call my own
Walking down this winding path
looking for home
Looking for a heart to call my
own
He ranted at Ryou, cursing for
his weakness while the other had his head lowered, silently taking the abuse.
He smacked him hard but the other boy simply stood there, taking what ever he
lashed out. With every moment that passed Bakura grew furious at the other for
not standing up for himself, for allowing himself to be treated as if he was
worthless. Did the boy have no pride? How could this pathetic creature,
beautiful as he was, actually be his other half?
He was dumbstruck when he felt
a blinding pain in his jaw and when he regained his senses he discovered that
he was on the tiled floor of Ryou’s kitchen. It took a moment for him to
actually realize what had happened.
Ryou was looking back and forth
between him and his own clenched fist, completely pale and as startled as he.
It was clear from the boy’s expression that he thought he was going to be
punished for such an offense but Bakura felt no desire to do any such thing.
Instead he released the laughter that bubbled up inside of him, releasing it with
all of his pent up frustration, marveling at how good it felt. Tears of mirth
were streaming down his cheeks and he placed a hand over his stomach which hurt
from how hard he was laughing, Ryou was looking at him as if he’d gone insane
and tentatively began to back away from him.
With a grin, he reached out and
grabbed the boy by the wrist, pulling him down to the floor with him, claiming
his lips. Ryou had been startled, obviously, and had held stiff in his arm
while he ravaged his mouth. Finally his lighter half had begun to respond,
obviously unsure of himself but the sweet, hesitant movements were intoxicating
and had only made him want the other more.
Voices in my head, telling me to give up instead
Have to remind myself that I’m
not dead
Tears in my eyes, no hope in my
dream
Everything is harder than it
should seem
Don’t forget me; don’t tell
yourself lies
Nothing is harder than to say goodbye.
He’d done it. He’d bared his heart to his lovers and it was up to them now, what would happen to it. He’d broken his most sacred vows, forgotten every promise that he’d made to himself. He’d cried. Uninhibited, letting the tears fall down his cheeks, exposing just how broken he was inside to anyone who cared to see. He was as weak as he’d once accused Ryou of being and he had no more strength to re-fortify the barriers around his heart. So he would wait; bracing himself for the pain and the devastation that was certain to come. But he would let himself enjoy it. Enjoy the open love that these two had to offer him. Accept it and maybe make the burden that he carried around a little lighter. Maybe that was real strength. To know that the misery is there, waiting to strike, but to still go on, not allowing it to control his life.
He would never be the boy that
he had been or as carefree and open as Ryou and Joey but maybe, just maybe, He
would allow himself to love.
I chose this road; I chose to
start
I will find the way back to my
heart.
~~Owari~~
Whew! That was different. This
whole chapter is pretty much what’s going on in Bakura’s head while he’s
sleeping on Joey’s hand.
Hopefully I should get the next
chapter out soon but I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to do with it.
Please review.