To perceive is to suffer-Aristotle
A/N: I got bored and decided to re-read this ficclet. And I have to say I am disgusted with myself for actually writing this piece of crap. The grammar is appaling. So, in a vain attempt to make this story a bit of a better read, I have made a couple changes. Nothing major just tweaked some adjectives and fixed some punctuation.
Don't own Yugioh.
The cold sharp wind howled as Ryou walked out of the building where he worked. With a loud clash of lightning and booming rumble of thunder, it began to rain. lightly at first but soon the piercing droplets of water were coming down so fast and so hard that Ryou thought that he might bruise. The freezing winter wind blew powerfully around him, whipping his shoulder length white hair into his face and distorting his vision.
Ryou pulled his coat closer around himself and brought a small, frail hand up to push the wet hair away in a vain attempt to see more clearly. Stopping and squinting around through the thick blanket of rain, Ryou saw that he was the only person out on the street. He lowered his head and resumed walking through the fast pouring storm
A pair of hardend dark brown eyes watched the lone figure of Ryou make his agonizingly slow way through the empty streets. The little moonlight that had fought its way through the storm beamed down on the man in the shadows, illuminating his dark eyes, casting them an eerie glow.
"Ryou." He whispered. He let the frigid winter wind carry it to his charge. After a few seconds, Ryou stopped dead in his tracks and looked around frantically for the source of the rough voice. He turned in circles looking for what he knew would not find.
Ryou already guessed it was Him,but didn't have any intention on seeing said person tonight. Ryou didn't know if he could face those dark eyes that looked so much like his own yet so different. Surely He already knew of what had happened last night on Ryou's way home.
Ryou was attacked by a bully from his school. He was not only beaten, but had something precious taken away from him. His innocence. Ryou was very afraid, terrifyed to face Him for fear of what would happen. Ryou knew that He considered Ryou his. And Ryou, having such a big heart, was afraid of what He would do to the bully.
He smirked. Satisfaction seeping through him at the response he got from just one whisper. As Ryou passed the alley He was hiding in, He fell in step behind Ryou. Having somewhat of a sixth sense, Ryou knew He was behind him. Ryou sped up until he was running as fast as his legs could carry him.
"You can't run from me." It came a whisper. Tantalizing and taunting and utterly degrading.
Ryou looked up and saw Him. He wasdirectly in front of him but cast in the shadows, as always. Completely invisible except for his luminous brown eyes.
"How…d-did you get…a-ahead..o-of me?" Ryou shyly asked while stumbling back from both fright and exhaustion at running. Ryou tried to get a look at his stalker, but his efforts were in vain. The most he could discern was a rough bodily outline and the eyes that mirrored his own in every aspect except the emotion that Ryou's held. Ryou was so curious as to what He looked like that he would go all day just imagining.
"Come here." He beckoned with his hand for Ryou to follow him and turned.
At some point after they encountered each other, it stopped raining. Neither had taken notice.
How He managed to stay in the shadows as He walked was way beyond Ryou's knowledge. It also seemed like He had power over Ryou. Power to force obedience. Ryou didn't want to follow. But he didn't even have control over his body. He did.
All Ryou's life Ryou had wanted someone to pay attention to him. Anyone. When He came along, He gave Ryou the attention he so longed for. He was fixated on Ryou. He held some kind of passion and infatuation with him that He took it upon himself to learn every detail about Ryou. Every detail about his life. And that was enough for Ryou to give completely into Him. That was enough for Ryou to hand over control, to give up his freedom.
They were in the back of the alley. He pointed at something that made Ryou's stomach clench. It was a mutilated corpse. It had been stripped naked. The limbs had been severed and stacked upon the body. A few feet to the left was the neatly severed head. Little blood remained though. It had been washed away by the rain.
"Wasn't it Him." It wasn't a question.
Ryou was speechless. Someone else was hurt, no murdered because of him. Ryou knew what true pain was. And he didn't wish it on anyone. Yet, aside from raw disgust, he ashamedly felt a vague sense of pride. Tears sprang to his eyes, for both the poor, butchered soul and for hisself.
"He deserved it. Touching what is mine and mine alone," His voice overflowed with possesivness, "And harming you too. He should have known the consequences of his actions. He was so foolish to think that he wouldn't be caught."
"You killed him." His throat was starting to constrict his breathing. "You took his life" Ryou was sobbing by this point and his voice just below a whisper.
He heard it anyway. "You like it. You like it, you know you do. You feel proud. Every time I kill for you, you feel honored that someone would do that for you. You feel glad."
"I hate it when you kill." It had been softly uttered, but within the silent walls of the alley, it seemed oddly loud.
If Ryou had been looking at Him instead of the mass of body parts, he would have seen the hurt in His eyes.
"You belong to ME" He bellowed, eyes like stone again.
Ryou's little ability to speak dissipated that instance. Sheer fright consumed him. It electrified him, so Ryou did the only thing he could. He ran.
Once Ryou got home he stared frantically searching the cabinets and drawers. Self-disgust drove him. When he found the object he was looking for he froze. This was the tool that would end all his suffering.
The beautiful silver blade glinted in the light as Ryou turned it over and over in his hand. Of course it would hurt at first. But soon the pain would subside. Like it always does.
Ryou carefully grasped it and gentely slid it across his wrist, creating a thin line of blood. Ryou marveled at his new wound cause by the small butcher knife in his right hand. It had hurt but, Ryou, being used to it, didn't really care.
His train of thought drifted to how lovely the velvety liquid felt against his skin. Like heavy silk sliding- he shook his head, he didn't have time to dwell on how perfect it felt. Ryou's sixth sense was telling him He was coming. Ryou never wanted to see Him again. He inspired feelings and emotions Ryou was never ment to feel.
Ryou fixed his grip on the steel blade and held it to his throat. This is it. The final moment. He pressed into his neck. It produced a deep cut on the unmarred porcelain skin. I don't deserve to live. I'm sorry Bakura.
His world went black.
Should I continue this or stop here? 'Cause I know how sometimes when there are continuations they suck. I have big plans for Bakura and I kinda sorta have an idea of what I want to happen. But I don't know what to do about Ryou. How should I bring him back into this thing? sigh I dunno…
My salad days, when I was green with judgement—William Shakespear