Necropolis demon

Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh, what you are about to read is a mere fanfic.

Necro: This story was partly formed by a play that I'm sure you've all heard of called 'The Phantom of the Opera', a few books I've read about Venice, a recent trip there, and the life of the early castrati teachers in the 1700s.

Venetian Romance

Prologue

Ryou Bakura was a gifted youth with a voice so painfully beautiful that if one were to hear him singing even the simplest of melodies, one would think that they've ascended to the heavens. Such a precious gift was given to this youth, the gift of heavenly music. For in his voice was a rapturous echo that made listeners weep at its sheer beauty.

But not only was Ryou so blessed with his voice but also, he was one with a face so innocent and childlike, much like a Botticelli angel's. His face held that look of elegance, pale and flawless, and utterly perfect. A pair of hazel eyes contrasted with his light image, contrasting in a way that their magnificence was drawn out even more and that they seemed to radiate naivety. Long white-blond hair so close to the hue of pure white framed the youth's delicate face, his bangs covering his forehead in a way that provided him with a mysterious air to his personality whenever he looked up at someone. With a body so lithe and smooth and so ravishing to the eyes, anyone would think that Ryou was the very image of a seraph. And that was exactly what he was to everyone who knew and adored him, an angel with a voice that could bring you to heaven.

Young Ryou was only 7 years of age when his father died, leaving him alone and vulnerable to the desolate world. His mother had long ago passed away along with his prematurely born sister in childbirth so he never really knew them. Though only a mere boy, ignorant of the evils of the world that lay ahead of him, Ryou strived and survived and made it as far as to become a famous opera singer though the road to success had been full of dead-ends.

After his father's death, he was sent to an orphanage and there the young prodigy began to mold his destiny. At this point in his childhood, Ryou had never really known that he could actually sing since his father had been a simple farmer without an interest in the arts. Nevertheless, the young cherub discovered his gift in the most unlikely of situations.

He had been crying again, in the bathroom all alone because one of the other older orphans had taken away his favorite toy, an old rag doll girl that was missing an eye; it had been given to him by his father when he was very little, and although it wasn't much, that doll was the last remaining possession he had to remind him of his father.

As the young boy sat there at a corner, hugging his knees to himself and mourning over the loss of his father's one and only gift to him, he began to sing a song he'd conjured from nowhere. The tune was soft, eerie at first and utterly monotonous, but as it rose in pitch it began to take a life of its own, rising and falling as Ryou wept.

Softly with a trace of despair, Ryou sang with his heart, making up words and tunes as he went. His voice echoed throughout the bathroom and as he sang his tears stopped falling. Unbeknownst to the young orphan boy, everyone nearby heard his sweet lament.

And that was how he was simply discovered; it was his very first song that had been his savior, taking him away from the gloomy barriers of the orphanage in which he would have rotted within its walls, never able to truly see the world beyond those all too safe doors.

A decade passed and the little orphan boy grew up be the most enchanting opera singer in all of Venice and quite possibly the whole world. He had grown to become the object of obsession of many admirers, and although Ryou was now a young man his voice never seemed to have changed.

He was not a castrato as most people believed him to be, and he was most definitely male in gender, but through the years his angelic voice naturally retained its innocence and softness. Never did his voice crack or seem to deepen with maturity but instead it remolded itself, turning into a soft and youthful but fitting tone of sound that very well matched Ryou.

Time was not cruel with Ryou's gift for music, and although he was now a young man with the voice of an older choirboy, it did not seem odd or unnatural to everyone. His façade fitted well with his voice, soft and romantic and utterly honest just as Ryou was. Many have said that Ryou was very fortunate, he did not have to become a eunuch and he was blessed with a voice that need not be controlled with the knife.

"Honestly, I am overly flattered by your praise Madame," said Ryou, his voice soft and kind, utterly pleasing to the ear.

The Madame smiled, the young soprano was always such a polite character, always feeling overly flattered at the simplest of praises. "Oh but you were simply amazing tonight, I could've sworn I was floating in the clouds as I listened to you performing that aria."

The singer blushed at the comment and smiled, "Thank you very much, I am glad that tonight's show was to your liking."

In truth, every show that Ryou performed in was always to everyone's liking, no one could ever hate a voice as pleasant as his. Amidst all the admiring opera enthusiasts and congratulating patricians a pair of stunning blue eyes watched as the star of the night smiled and beckoned for a servant to put away the bouquet of flowers he'd just received.

These eyes belonged to a young man standing at a far corner across from the precious singer. Along with those piercing eyes was a taut face so handsome yet devoid of warmth. The man's hair was neatly cut and was of a brown hue, clean and trimmed perfectly without a single strand of his bangs out of place. Pity he had such kissable lips that were curved into a stoic frown, just as his expression was that of a permanent scowl.

This gloriously striking youth was Seto Kaiba, eldest son of the patrician Gozaburo Kaiba who had passed away only a month ago due to an illness of the heart. Being the eldest son of a wealthy aristocrat, Seto inherited the right as the head of the House of Kaiba. He was a clever young man, even as a boy his tutors would gape in awe at his intelligence and Seto had many tutors; tutors in music and art, literature and arithmetic, politics and rhetoric were just a few to name of, but although he was the cleverest amongst the children of his father's friends, this genius grew up to be a misanthrope.

Although a misanthrope, Seto had a love for two things, his younger brother Mokuba whom he loved dearly above all others and the opera.

Now the singing sensation was slowly edging away from his devotees, politely excusing himself from the crowd, and saying that he was needed elsewhere, though in truth he only wanted to be left alone for a while. Ryou snuck away to one of the balcony seats overseeing the stage. Seto followed unnoticed.

Being the top soprano for five straight seasons had taken a lot out of Ryou, him being the best had been both a blessing and a dreary predicament. Word of his talent had spread like wild fire after his first night in the opera house and he had gained many admirers who, in fact, began to invite him to their private parties. Because Ryou had lived in such humble accommodations as an orphan, he agreed to attend and sing at these parties, not having the heart to decline.

Despite the fact that he was the shining star on stage, it was lonely being at the top where everyone could see you and praise you. The money and requests for encores were nothing to the luminescent youth. He was simply thankful to have been given the chance to sing.

"That was a wonderful performance," came a deep voice from the shadows behind Ryou. A silhouette of a tall man could be vaguely seen, his voice was fluid, graceful in its own maturity.

"I thank you kind sir," replied Ryou, "Might you be kind as to step forward for me, so that I may see you more properly?"

Obliging, the figure moved forward, revealing itself to the opera singer. There was something about this man that perplexed Ryou, those eyes, that voice, and that aristocratic stance.

"I am Seto Kaiba, Lord of the House of Kaiba."

News of the late aristocrat Gozaburo Kaiba's death had been a widely known conflict in Venice. The Kaiba family, as far as everyone knew, was one of the most powerful political families in the city, and it had been a known fact to all that the head of the family fathered only two sons.

"A pleasure to be acquainted with you," Ryou smiled then sadly added, "My condolences, Excellency, for your father's…passing," he said slowly.

A look in Seto's eye changed as he walked towards Ryou, "Excellency?" he raised a brow at this form of address, "You are quite modest for an accomplished artiste aren't you? I apologize for I seem to have misjudged you all along."

"Misjudged?"

"Yes, I first assumed that all leading performers were prima donnas who simply thought of themselves as superior amongst others." Explained Seto, "But you, on the other hand, are surprisingly different."

A blush made its way onto the pale youth's cheeks, Ryou faltered, "I-I…take it that you meant that as a compliment."

"That, I do."

The sound of approaching footsteps could be heard close by and from the shadows appeared another youth, though neither a child nor an adolescent but in between. Seto glanced behind to see that it was his younger brother who was there, waiting patiently to politely interrupt.

Mokuba was the boy's name, and unlike his older sibling he was more lively and energetic in life. With a naturally long and wild-looking black mane, and eyes wide with childlike wonder, Mokuba was the very opposite of Seto.

"Brother, so this is where you've been. I apologize for interrupting your conversation but we must be off," spoke the raven-haired boy.

"This is my younger sibling Mokuba," Seto gestured to the youth who moved to stand beside him, "my apologies for cutting our chat short. I believe that you will be starring in yet another upcoming play?"

"Yes, will you be there to attend Excellency?" asked Ryou.

"If your next performance will be as entertaining as tonight's then I suppose I will be." said Seto. With a slight nod of the head, Seto and his younger brother bid farewell to Ryou, but paused to look back for a moment.

"You may address me as 'Seto' Ryou."

Necro: Prologue done. I'm sure you guys have noticed the slight change of my writing style…yeah, I'm just trying it out and my old style didn't seem to fit the era of this story which I'm sure you know is set somewhere in the 1700s in Venice.

Also, I would like to say that I'm sure you all know that when a boy reaches puberty his voice deepens. In this fic I made Ryou retain an angelic voice. Yes, he did grow into a young man and yes his voice did change but it did not alter itself completely. There are some people whom I've met who are around 18 or so but they have voices that are pretty level, not too deep or manly, just level and sometimes when on the phone they sound female. So think of Ryou as one of those people.

In case there are some people who didn't understand a few words and terms I used, here are the meanings:

Castrato- in the past, a male singer who was castrated before puberty in order to retain a soprano or alto voice. (plural: castrati)

Eunuch- castrated male.

Aria- a melody sung solo or as a duet in an opera, oratorio or cantata.

Patrician- aristocrat (this term does not solely apply to Roman terminology and is still used today.)

Excellency- I was confused with using this, but in Venice, I'm pretty sure the lesser people used this as a form of address to the patricians.

This is strictly experimental ok.

Review and tell me how it is.