Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh, never have, never will, and I don't think I really want to anyway. And also, thanks to Nightshadow131 for the beta-ing.
Loud cries echoed along the halls of a dark apartment, every light off except for one dim, muddy-bronze tint from a desk lamp in the family room barely bright enough to glaze over the two struggling figures in front of it. Howls of pain and pleads to stop physically shattered the silence, deeper growls and commands yelling back. Tables and lamps overturned with noisy clatters to the floor with each cry, punch and slap.
The terror was clear in the young man's voice, a teenager, no older than 16. The tussling ceased with more tearful pleas to stop and the boy being pinned down by his aggressor. Watery brown eyes met a twin pair of identical ones, far more sinister and lustful than could ever be reflected in the boy's own.
He cried as the pain laced with his body, in his veins, tangling through every nerve ending and inch of skin. Hands roamed over the soft, pale flesh and the frail, aching body that sent cold shivers down the boy's spine. Those same hands pressed against his back, the boy's ribs groaning with the pressure of being forced down to the floor, already bruised or broken but screaming in agony nonetheless. The shear sickening pain made his stomach roil and cries to pull from the boy's throat. He could feel his mind becoming fuzzy with the pain and his vision tunneling though his attacker wouldn't allow him the pleasure of passing out; he never did allow such a thing. The torture wouldn't end until the other was satisfied, and so it was any night the spirit felt 'frisky' or 'horny' and in the mood to play.
Fire shot up his spine as he was entered and the tears rolled down his pale face endlessly, small hands clutching at the carpet and body tensing as much as his sore muscles would allow. It hurt. It always hurt when he was entered so roughly, so carelessly. All the other cared about was getting off with no concern for the party being raped. Of course, if there were pleasant feelings and ideas, the action couldn't be considered rape anymore.
The moans and dirty talk coming from his spirit made his stomach turn as he tried to block it out. He was cruel and rough and tore at the small body from the inside and out, the boy's physical and mental states spiraling down into a dark abyss of pain and suffering to snatch him and never let him go. He had to bite his lip to keep from being physically sick when he could feel the spirit climax, pumping the hot, sticky fluid into him to sting the tears and cuts caused by such harsh ministrations. The glob-like substance stayed until the spirit pulled out with a satisfied smirk and allowed the sticky residue to ooze out at its own pace, leaving shiny white trails down the boys thighs and he wanted so desperately to throw up.
As he laid there in pain with hollowed eyes free of emotion, the spirit pet his silver hair almost tenderly. A mad grin spread on his face, the illusion of fangs showing itself. "You were good tonight, Ryou," were the smug words before the creature walked from the room and into his own bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaving the broken figure on the floor.
Ryou couldn't even let himself feel relieved that the spirit had retreated to his room for the night, for he knew the treatment would continue later, after a few agonizing days of healing. He'd stopped hoping so long ago that the silver haired teen didn't think he remembered how to wish anymore. He'd stopped hoping for someone to help him, for the abuse to end, for the day that Bakura would tire of their games or that he'd ever escape. His friends would never rescue him—no, that was incorrect, he didn't have friends that could help him. That was a luxury that Ryou couldn't afford, as painful as it was to push away the people that had even a chance of caring for him. It was too dangerous, Bakura was too dangerous, any friend Ryou made would be in danger and he couldn't put innocent people in harm's way for a little comfort.
Ryou couldn't place the day it first happened anymore—maybe it had happened gradually—that Bakura had gained the power to form his own body. The boy still had no idea how the spirit had managed it, it didn't seem as if Yugi's spirit had been able to accomplish the same thing, so how had Bakura figured it out? But the fact that Bakura could form his own body just made him even more destructive. He could cause physical damage to people on his own; Ryou couldn't suppress him anymore and sacrificed himself in the hopes that Bakura wouldn't hurt anyone else. It did seem that Bakura still couldn't live without Ryou though; even with his own body it seemed attached, still, to the frail boy's own life. Bakura wouldn't be killing Ryou anytime soon, that was true, but he could still hurt, rape and beat him to a bloody pulp or near death, as long as Ryou didn't depart from the world.
Ryou's sacrifice was beginning to take its toll on him though; Bakura seemed to be getting more violent and stronger as Ryou found himself falling deeper and deeper into a depression. More than once had Ryou found himself thinking about an endless sleep; eternal darkness and relief from the pain of an all too cruel world. That was all that he wanted, a reprieve from the pain and torture he suffered behind his false smile to keep anyone from finding out, even as he mentally screamed for the help as he pushed Yugi and Anzu and all the people who had tried to help him once away. No one questioned his distance, his meek demeanor made people think he was just shy or quiet, never that there was anything wrong. No one ever saw the broken soul behind somber brown eyes; eyes that had lost all their sparkle and hope and life.
He was just a broken soul; an angel trapped in a cage with his wings clipped. No matter how desperately he dared to struggle against the pain, the metal bars of his own sadness held him in place and the spirit clipped his wings even more. He couldn't fly away, just lay at the bottom of the cage, lifeless and waiting for the day where everything would simply end; praying that it would come soon.
Ryou didn't bother to remove himself from the floor; didn't think he could physically move if he had tried. The sickening pain shooting through his body kept him still as the tears fell silently from hollow eyes, no sound coming from the defeated form on the carpet.
He could end it, he knew he could. One simple blade to his wrists, one simple little cut, could drain away his life and pain and Bakura all in one shot. But that just made Ryou feel more pathetic. Then thinking about his father, and how much pain he'd be in to come home from a long expedition to find his only son and relative left dead and rotting in the bathroom after slashing his own wrists made him feel even worse. Ryou knew that even if he dared complete the act that no one would think to look for him. No one would think 'where's Ryou been?' and search for him. He'd just quietly rot away. Alone. All alone and that thought brought another pang to his heart amidst the already unbelievable pain.
No, there was no escape, no hope, no life or fight left in the teen anymore. Just an empty shell of a boy living a life in seclusion from everyone and for no one to ever realize his sacrifices for them. But that was alright, he didn't need for people to thank him, but it would be nice to lead a normal life with friends and support instead of a rapist and loneliness.
Soon heavy lids began to close, mind finally blanking out into a brief reprieve from his life. This was all he lived for now. Sleep. The one thing that could endlessly block out all his pain; if only for a few hours.
"The angle of an obtuse triangle is blah, blah, blah," that was all that Otogi Ryuuji could hear at the moment of his droning math teacher. With a bored sigh emerald eyes glanced around the white classroom. Yugi and Anzu were being the good students at the moment, Yugi glancing back every now and then to share a joke with Jounouchi and Honda while Anzu tried a few feeble attempts at shushing them. Eventually his eyes fell on the empty seat of one Bakura Ryou whom Ryuuji had noticed was showing up less and less for class.
Vaguely, he wondered why he hadn't seen the shy teen around the normal group with Yugi lately, or even in class for that matter. Ryou had been missing for the last two days, though that was a small amount compared to the amount of school he would normally miss at a time, sometimes two weeks. (If Ryuuji remembered correctly, the boy had once been absent for a whole month, or close to it.)
At the end of their math lesson the teacher looked around the room and shook his head as if something was bothering him before saying in a tired voice, "Alright. Now who's going to take Bakura-san his homework today?" A rather contagious mumble of annoyance ran through the students simultaneously, all tired of the pale boy 'ditching school'. No one believed he was really sick so often anymore, and Ryou wasn't talkative enough in class for most people to even care about him, much less where he lived. Otogi glanced again at Yugi, waiting for someone from that group to raise their hands, but they never did. The gothic boy snorted at that; didn't they always say they were friends with Ryou? "Come on, someone has to do it," the teacher continued, though still no one seemed to care and began to talk to each other quietly.
Frowning, Ryuuji found himself feeling sorry for the ill teen and raised his hand, a few classmates raising an eyebrow at the unusually kind gesture coming from the Dice Monsters player. "Well…Otogi, that's very…nice of you." Ryuuji shrugged and put his hand down, feeling a group of surprised eyes from his friends on him. What was the big deal? Couldn't he take pity on people every now and then? No one else was going to do it that was for sure.
"That's weird, Otogi-kun, I didn't know you even liked Ryou-kun." Yugi smiled as they made their way home for the day. Ryuuji rolled his eyes at the perky attitude. Sure, now they were interested. What kind of friends were they?
"Well, it's not like any of you were going to do it," he found himself shooting back a little more icily than he had meant to. But still, couldn't they spend fifteen minutes to take a sick friend his homework? What kind of friends were they? At least Yugi had the decency to look guilty.
"Don't get me wrong. I would take it but I have to help grandpa in the store today."
"I have to work too. I don't get a day off just because Ryou's sick," Anzu added as if trying to defend herself from being attacked with guilt. Ryuuji rolled his eyes and glanced back at Katsuya and Honda.
"And? What's your excuse?"
The blonde shrugged. "My old man doesn't like me coming back late when I don't tell him about it."
"My house is in the completely opposite direction of his. It takes me another half hour just to get home from there."
"Now that's just pathetic. Even the mutt had a better excuse than that."
"Thanks… Hey!" Katsuya huffed and scowled at Ryuuji. "Either way, why should we go out of our way for him? I mean, even when we try he just tries to ignore us."
"Jounouchi-kun! That sounds so mean!"
"Well it's true! I mean, he does ignore us lately; blatantly! Half the time I'm not sure if he even wants us to be his friends." A collective frown went around the group. Though no one was going to say it, they'd been having the same thoughts that the blonde had just spoken about.
Otogi groaned and ruffled his hair, pushing his messy bangs out of his face. "Look, whatever! I'll take him his homework, alright? Later."
Two train stops and a few blocks later Ryuuji found himself looking up at a rather nice, if not small, apartment building. "So this is it, huh?" Ryuuji let himself into the building, asking the desk clerk where Bakura Ryou's room was. The old man had seemed happy that Ryou had a visitor, it looked like not many people came around for him and he hadn't left his room since last Sunday.
Ryuuji rapped lightly on the door in front of him, room 706, waiting patiently for Ryou to come out. A few minutes of nothing passed before Ryuuji decided to try the door bell, waiting a few more endless minutes, not hearing so much as a rustle coming from inside the apartment.
It was weird; the man had said that Ryou hadn't left in three days, so why wasn't he coming to the door? Maybe he was asleep or something, or in the shower. Then the thought of the boy possibly passed out somewhere in the house sprang into Ryuuji's mind making him nervous. What if that really was the case? He couldn't possibly leave now, there was no way. A million horrible thoughts about what could have happened to Ryou were running through his mind at once.
He tried the door knob, surprised to find it unlocked and pushed it open as far as the chain lock on the other side would allow. A green eye peeked into the darkness. "Ryou? Hey, it's Otogi! I brought you your homework. Are you alright in there?" Silence met his calls until a sudden flash of a dark brown eye starred through the crack, glaring back at him with what could be considered as no less than a look of hate before the door slammed shut, knocking Ryuuji back into the railing.
His heart was racing a mile a minute as he stared at the door, eyes wide and face pale. That look couldn't have belonged to the soft tempered boy who was supposed to be in the house. Did he have the wrong room? Or was someone maybe in there with Ryou? But that look, the pure darkness screaming from that one eye didn't seem like it came from someone who would be a good bed maid, maybe even someone dangerous. What if something was holding Ryou hostage in his own home!
Before Ryuuji could ponder the thoughts any more a slight rustle of chains being unlatched scratched through the door and for just a moment Ryuuji thought his heart was going to jump out of his chest. What was he supposed to do if that same…thing came out of the room and jumped him? But his fears were eased at the sight of the shy and quiet teen leaning heavily against the door frame with a curious look in his eyes. "Otogi-kun?" the weakness in the voice worried Ryuuji; Ryou sounded even softer than normal and looked even worse. His hair was matted and messy like he'd been lying down all day and his face was horribly pale and unhealthy looking. One arm was wrapped gently around the skinny torso and Ryuuji suddenly felt guilty for disturbing Ryou.
"Um, hey. Wow…you really look awful. If I knew you were this sick I would have just left your homework in the mailbox for you." Ryuuji walked over and held onto one of Ryou's arms supportively. "C'mon, let me help you back inside." He tugged the boy's arm lightly and raised an eyebrow at the quick gasp of pain he earned in response. "Sorry, did I hurt you?"
"No, sorry." With a nod, Ryuuji helped Ryou to the couch, closing the door with his foot as he let the pale boy lean on him until he was lying down again. Only then did Ryou move his arm from around his waist.
"Does your stomach hurt that much?"
"Wha--? Oh…um, yeah."
Something was off, very off. The air seemed tense, thick and it sent a shiver down the dark haired teen's spine. There was something else in the apartment and Ryou wasn't mentioning it.
"Do you want me to get you something while I'm here? Medicine? A drink? Are you hungry at all?" Ryuuji thought he caught a glimpse of a smile pass Ryou's eyes.
"No, I'm really not hungry at all." He hesitated for a minute, as if contemplating whether or not he should ask his question or not. "There's…some Tylenol in the kitchen," the pale boy finally said, though he sounded unsure if it was really okay to ask.
"Sure, be right back." The younger teen gave a smile and went off to find the kitchen and the mentioned medicine. That spine chilling feeling of someone watching him began to creep through his mind and Ryuuji looked back, not seeing anything before continuing to the kitchen. It was like Ryou's apartment was haunted. There was definitely another presence in the house; and it wasn't a friendly ghost at all. Everything screamed at Ryuuji to leave but he ignored the feeling, grabbing the orange bottle from the counter and finding Ryou some water and a couple crackers. He barely kept himself from running back to the family room; he really didn't want to be alone in the creepy apartment. Maybe it was the sheer silence that hung on the walls, or the odd shadows from the lamps.
"Hey, Ryou, is there anyone…staying with you right now?" the pale boy looked at Ryuuji quizzically though his body seemed to tense up at the question as he took the medicine.
"No, why?"
"I just…never mind. I feel like I'm being watched is all."
"Oh." Yes, Ryou really seemed nervous now. He was most certainly hiding something, Otogi was sure of it.
"Guess my mind's just playing tricks on me then." Oh yeah, he really believed that. "So, I'll bring you your homework tomorrow too."
"Tomorrow?"
"Well, you don't look like you'll be well enough by tomorrow to go to school is all."
"No, I'll be there. I'm not running a fever or anything." That comment made Ryuuji blink.
"You're not?" he seemed surprised as he placed a hand against Ryou's forehead to confirm whether he was trying to bluff or telling the truth. Ryou was right though, he wasn't running a fever at all. "Then why the Tylenol? It doesn't help a stomachache."
"No, but it does wonders for a headache," a slight joking tone crossed into the boy's voice, though he would never reveal that it was for the fiery pain that kept coursing through and pounding in his veins, making him able to feel every pulse in his body.
"Can't argue with that, I guess." Ryuuji frowned, he wasn't convinced at all and still felt uneasy about the situation. Before he could press any further, Ryou's quiet voice spoke up again, politely but obviously trying to get him to leave.
"Thank you for everything, Otogi-kun, but it's getting late. You should probably leave."
"Oh, right, I guess so." He picked up his bag and gave the broken doll on the couch one last look. He really felt bad for leaving Ryou alone in his condition but if the pale boy didn't want him there, what was Ryuuji supposed to do? Force himself on him? "I'll see you tomorrow then. Later."
Ryou watched Otogi leave quietly, glad that he hadn't put up a fight with leaving and that nothing serious had happened. "Who was that?" Ryou jumped at the deep voice, swallowing the tightness in his throat. He had to play things carefully; he couldn't let Ryuuji be hurt.
"Just someone from my class; he brought me my homework." A smirk spread on the tomb robber's face, the split image of Ryou's with a dark presence, an evilness that Ryou would never be able to imitate.
"A friend?" the word was drawled out, like he was dangling the word in front of Ryou's eyes like some kind of prize that he couldn't have. Bakura sounded like he was almost happy to have something to play with and Ryou could feel his heart breaking into even more pieces.
The words fell off his lips like a mantra, a phrase that was repeated over and over. He knew the words and could say them in his sleep; they were always running through his head. He didn't even have to think about them, just spouting the words Bakura wanted to hear like a broken record, "No, Yami. Not a friend, I don't have the privilege to have friends." Soft brown eyes were covered with silver bangs, no emotion to his voice at all. The spirit had punished him enough and beaten the words into Ryou so often that even the broken angel began to believe them as the truth.
He didn't deserve any friends.
Bakura chuckled and ruffled Ryou's hair with a poisonous smile. "That's a good boy. You can't be close to anyone," he began to walk away, disappearing into his room again and leaving the shivering teen alone. Ryou didn't worry that Bakura would try anything at the moment; the spirit didn't find any pleasure in playing with a broken toy.
Ryou could feel the hot tears beginning to sting his eyes though he refused to let them fall. There was no point to tears, crying never changed anything. If it could, A than Ryou would be beyond happy at the moment. The spirit never showed any sympathy, and should anyone learn of what was happening something could happen to them so there was no one to talk to.
No friends, he didn't have the right; that was what Bakura had taught him. That no one would want such a tainted doll. Again the thought of an endless sleep crossed Ryou's mind. Pressing against his senses like a physical force just pushing him towards a blade or a sharp object, anything that could take the pain away, but what was the point? Was he that pathetic? As much as he longed for the thought of no more pain Ryou couldn't bear the thought of being dead, not yet. Maybe a few more pushes away, but not yet.
Thin arms wrapped around a bruised waist, tremors running through the frail body, warm tears finally falling freely down pale cheeks from blank eyes. He hurt. He hurt so much, in every sense of the word; his body, his heart, his soul, everything ached, everything cried out for relief that would never come. There was no one to run to, no one cared anymore, no one that Ryou would allow close enough to care.
Nothing would change. Tomorrow Ryou would walk the halls with his shy smile the same way he always had, hiding his pain, keeping to himself and walking through the day like a shadow that didn't exist to anyone. He'd cry today, let it out while he could before putting up his front again.
He wished though, desperately wished that someone could hold him; take him away from his life, if only for a moment.
Otogi stopped outside the door to Ryou's apartment, staring at it for a moment before turning down the stairs, worry eating away at his heart and ebbing into his mind. He just had a feeling that Ryou wasn't alone, and not for the better. He felt so bad for leaving, the apartment felt dark, evil, but also lonely and sad, though Ryou obviously didn't want him there.
He'd heard from the others that Ryou's dad was always off in some other country on archeological digs and was gone for weeks or months at a time. Ryuuji knew what it was like to come home to an empty house and felt sorry that Ryou had to suffer alone. The more he thought about it; that was one thing that he and Ryou had in common: a missing family.
He thought about going back, maybe asking to spend the night but then thought against it. The house must always be like that, and Ryuuji couldn't exactly sleep over every night. No, at the moment it was better just to go home and hope that things would be alright.
Though, even if he'd seemed nervous, Ryuuji thought that Ryou had seemed just a little happy at having some company; even if it was only his imagination. With one last look to the house and a sigh, Ryuuji headed home to an empty house. For some reason the thought of going home saddened him more than usual.
Maybe he should have asked to sleep over after all.
Inulover28: And there's the first chapter. Please remember to review, I love to hear what people think of my work and any tips or advice is also more than welcome -smiles-