Adult-FanFiction.org : Yu-Gi-OH

Anachronism	By : Ochodre Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Het - Male/Female Views: 4986 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
Author's Notes: Sorry this one took so long, guys, I've been lazy lately. It's not too long and kinda angsty, but at least it's... uh... one chapter closer to plot.
Computerfreak: That song does kinda fit them, I'll see if I can work it into a chapter at some point. :B 'Cept it sounds like the girl doesn't like the guy and all, and well XD
---
Nothing I won't do

Nothing like the pain

I feel for you

Nothing left to hide

Nothing left to fear

I am always here
What you want, what you lost

What you had, what is gone is over

What you've got, what you love

What you need is real...

~Our Lady Peace, 'Not Enough'
"W... What?"
Ryou stared at the Pharaoh, trying his best not to comprehend what the ruler said.
"It's okay, Ryou," Yugi spoke softly, patting Ryou's arm.
"I don't... no, it wouldn't be right," Ryou murmured, nearly losing his voice, "I don't, I can't--"
"You can't help feelings like that," Yugi tried to assure him, and the Pharaoh nodded in agreement.
"But I--" Ryou slumped, suddenly feeling horribly guilty. It was hard to stay in his comfortable denial, but even harder to leave.
"Hey, don't feel bad," Yugi sounded worried, and tugged on Ryou's sweater a little. "Like I said, I don't think for a second that you feel that way about Bakura because she was turned into a woman. You're just not like that, believe me."
"Actually," the Pharaoh wondered, "I wonder about that. Not because of her gender," he quickly corrected himself before Ryou started crying or Yugi scolded him, "but because she has been forced to become a different person, mentally. Without her magic or physical strength, she can no longer be so reckless, bullying and arrogant.
"I think, perhaps, Malik's penalty game hurt Bakura far more deeply than she would ever let on, because it crushed her ego so. I doubt the thief would ever admit it, but I think she is in pain, and wants companionship whether she knows it or not. These cannot be easy times for her."
Ryou listened and watched the Pharaoh as he spoke, nodding halfheartedly.
"Because of that, perhaps she has been opening herself up to you more, Ryou. This is probably the first time that she would even let you love her," the Pharaoh glanced back at the television thoughtfully, "If her ego had not been in the way, would things have been any different if she had let you closer when she was male?"
"W-well, I, um," Ryou rubbed his shoulder, shrugging nervously. "I..."
"We're not going to judge you, buddy," Yugi smiled.
"I... I guess not," Ryou admitted, sighing. "I don't... I don't even know what I like..." He shook his head, closing his eyes. "Please, don't tell anyone. She would kill me if she found out..."
"We won't tell anyone," the Pharaoh promised sincerely, "But I don't think it would be very healthy if you tried to stifle it, either."
"It doesn't matter, I can't tell her," Ryou spoke with saddened conviction, standing up from the couch, "T-thanks for talking to me, guys, but I can't... I'm just going to do my best to be her friend and respect her."
The wild-hair boys exchanged a concerned look, but the Pharaoh nodded. "Do what you feel is right."
"Oh, um," Yugi seemed reminded of something, "Kaiba said you guys could come as long as Bakura behaved. It starts tomorrow evening, if you still want to join in. Since it's just a few people it should only last a few hours."
Ryou nodded. "I'll... I'll see if she still wants to. Thank you."
"Aw, it's nothing," Yugi grinned and shrugged, shaking his head. "I hope you're both there. This would be something fun to get your mind off things."
"I must admit that it would be interesting to fight against the thief without the world or my friends at stake," the Pharaoh chuckled.
Ryou managed a small smile and waved at them, and ducked out of the game shop silently.
---
Ryou walked home in a fog, careful to avoid all thoughts. Anything, no matter how innocent, might lead his mind back to the Pharaoh's words. It wasn't easy, but he managed to silence his mind out of sheer worried desperation.
He was so focused on not thinking that he forgot to watch where he was going, and bumped into a short, warm body standing at the crosswalk.
"Watch yourself, you -- landlord?"
Ryou blinked in disbelieving horror and lifted his head.
Sure enough, the one girl in all of Domino he was trying to avoid thinking about stood in front of him, looking at him curiously. Even stranger, he noticed that she was holding a teapot under her arm.
Bakura was in her tan skirt again, and wearing a cream sweater from Ryou's collection. In fact, it looked like the one he'd worn to Duelist Kingdom. That particular sweater had long ago become too small for him to wear comfortably, but it was baggy on her new frame. The deep v-neck revealed the pale skin of her collar bone.
"Where have you been?" the thief asked as though she had not been the one to kick him out earlier.
"I... uh... out," Ryou murmured, and didn't look at her. "W-what do you have there?"
"This?" She lifted her teapot and shrugged, speaking without apology. "I'm afraid I smashed yours."
"So you got a new one?" Ryou almost looked at her, not certain that he heard her correctly. He saw her nod out of the corner of his eye.
"It's not as large and it has this disgusting womanly floral pattern on it, but I figured you would like such a thing," Bakura snorted, and Ryou let out a soft 'heh'. He almost thanked her, but then remembered himself and just nodded silently.
The boy then surprised both of them by turning and walking across the street. He heard an indignant sound from Bakura, before her sneakers followed him over the pavement.
"Where do you think you're going?" she threatened his back, though she sounded too confused to be convincing. "This isn't the way home."
"You can go on without me, I have... I have errands," he shrugged, sliding his hands into his pocket. Something in him seemed to sting, but he bit his lip and ignored it. This was the way things had to be. If he just followed her home like a puppy, soon he'd start smothering her again and then she'd kick him out for good.
Her feet stopped, "Well... I... suppose," Bakura muttered. She seemed conflicted, before he felt her gaze turn into a glare. "Oh, are you being sullen because I snapped at you this morning? Grow up."
"No, it's..." Ryou stopped and let his shoulders sag. "No, I realized... I realized you were right. I haven't been giving you the respect you deserve."
"What are you talking about?"
"I guess... I have thought of you too much like a sister," Ryou's voice wavered as it always did when he tried to lie, "But I'm not going to any more, I promise. I'll leave you alone."
"...eh?" Bakura's uncertain utterance did not seem very victorious.
"I'll leave you alone. I won't, won't worry so much, or fret, or try to touch you or anything. I'm... sorry, I-I never should have done any of that. It was wrong of me..."
A heavy silence seemed to settle over the entire street, not even disturbed by cars or other pedestrians. Ryou wanted badly to look back, to see Bakura's reaction, but he did not dare.
He just hoped that he had finally made her happy.
Before he was tempted to turn around, he closed his eyes and turned a corner. For once, he had left the thief speechless.
---
Bakura walked home alone. She set the teapot down with gentleness brought on by an overwhelming sensation of numbness.
She had finally done it. She had driven the boy away. A few months ago, when she was still male and still arrogant and defensive, she would have felt a rush of pride and victory. He had only gotten in the way back then, only been annoying, only useful for information or food.
But now, she felt almost betrayed. The boy had spent so long trying to show her that she could do anything to him and he would just smile and forgive her. She had come to rely on that. How dare he change? How dare he rescind on his unspoken promise of unconditional tolerance and forgiveness?
Though she knew he was only doing what she had foolishly told him, Bakura fed her immature anger. If she did not, it might fade into a far less acceptable emotion. She used her earlier rage to justify it. He had been a liar. He had made her think he saw her as her when he obviously saw only a girl that could be a substitute for his beloved dead sister.
Unfortunately, she conveyed outrage over the wrong thing. It wasn't that she minded having him fawn over her, or hug her, or sit close to her. It was just that him seeing her as a sister was not what some denied, repressed part of her wanted.
Her teeth dug into her lip angrily. For the millionth time she cursed herself for losing that fateful Shadow Game to Malik. It was bad enough that he'd made her look like a damnably weak woman, but now she had to start acting like one? And she was still bleeding...
The thief swore and almost smashed the new teapot. Nothing seemed right anymore. She just wanted her landlord and had, try as she might, she no one else to blame for scaring him off. Bakura sat down on the couch hard enough for it to squeak in protest. Her eyes narrowed at the television as if it was the source of all her problems.
Eventually, they closed, and when she dreamt, her mind teased her with memories and fantasies.
---
The smell of spices woke her up.
Bakura sniffed and opened one eye. Rice, fish, and soy sauce. She lifted her head and looked over the arm of the couch.
Ryou stood in the kitchen with his hair tied back. His eyes were on the fillet he was poaching, but his gaze seemed focused on something far away.
Grocery bags sat on the counter beside him, half emptied. The apartment looked cleaner, too, as if he had somehow stealthily vacuumed and swept without disturbing her. The sink was emptied of dirty dishes and a bundle of mail sat on the coffee table.
Bakura wondered what he was trying to avoid thinking about by keeping himself so busy.
She slid off the couch and walked to the kitchen with the mute grace fitting for the former king of thieves. She touched his side unconsciously, part of her mind still asleep and still dreaming of better things. He jumped and dropped his spatula.
Bakura blinked and withdrew her hand. Ryou turned and looked down at her, anxiety crinkling his features.
"Y-y... I didn't hear you wake up," he explained uselessly, retrieving his spatula. His brown eyes wandered over the metal, the oven, the fish and the wall, but would not meet her. He was rattled by something, scared and nervous. Bakura caught herself frowning and quickly smoothed her lips back into neutrality.
"You haven't done anything, landlord."
The boy paused and forgot his determination not to look at her, glancing over and asking for an explanation.
"You only act this jumpy if you feel you've done something to earn my wrath. You've done nothing, and I'm not angry. Calm down."
"You're not?" Ryou wondered aloud. He sounded hopeful.
"No. I..." Bakura sighed, shaking her head dismissively. "Forget what happened this morning. I didn't sleep well."
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye secretly, and saw him start to smile. Something in her relaxed. He was back to normal, he had just been edgy because she had railed at him in a way she had not done in a long time. Now --
But then his smile disappeared and he turned his attention back to the fish. "That's okay. Like I said, um, I probably deserved that. Don't worry, I'm not going to be so... so overbearing anymore."
Her face fell into a brief but intense look of frustration and hurt before she shook it off. She resisted the urge to curse him, not out of kindness, but because she didn't know how to articulate her inexplicable rage.
He's not yours to control anymore. You can't make him do something with will alone.
It was something she deeply resented at the moment. She was wonderful at manipulating most people, but Ryou's mind worked strangely and she had never bothered trying to understand it when she dwelled in it. Force had worked fine when she was a spirit. Unfortunately, it didn't translate so well to a living life.
Bakura didn't know what she wanted him to do, anyway, and that was more frustrating than his resistance.
"Hey, um..."
His voice snapped her out of her stifled anger and she glared up at the back of his head.
"Did you... did you still want to go to that tournament? I understand if you don't," Ryou asked, and halfway through his question his tone became apologetic for even daring to ask. His fear made her angrier, but she controlled herself.
"Keh, why not. It will be something to do," she muttered, unable to keep all of the acid out of her voice.
"It's tomorrow night... So, um, you might want to start picking cards out to make a deck." He peeked at her over his shoulder.
"Aren't you going to make one? I'll tell you how to make a deck you could actually win with."
"Later, I guess," he returned his attention to his fillet, and slid it out of the pan and onto a plate. He opened the pot on the next burner and spooned out some saffron rice next to the fish, and handed the plate to her like a peace offering.
Bakura looked up at him as she transferred the weight of the ceramic plate to her hands. Her rage smoldered.
"I'm not lying. I am not mad at you." It was the truth. In that moment, she could see his sorrowful eyes too well to remain mad.
But the boy just forced his face into a guilty smile and looked past her to the wall. "I... I have to do some schoolwork."
Her anger withered completely into something that hurt far more. She opened her mouth to say something, but she lost her words and watched him walk into his room.
Never before, not even in her previous life or the long afterlife that had followed, had the king of thieves ever been rejected.
It was not pleasant.
---
Ryou could not get to his room fast enough. Turning away from Bakura when she looked sincerely apologetic had been one of the hardest things he had ever done. It tore up something in him and ran raw against the grain of his being and desires.
But he had to show her he meant what he said. He could not revert to how he had been, under any circumstances. He had been ignorant then, so his actions had been innocent. But if he smiled at her or spoke to her or touched her now, he didn't know if he could keep the joy off his face, or his heart out of his throat, or regulate his pulse.
She couldn't know. He wished he didn't know. Ryou's chest was tight. He wasn't afraid of her being angry at him. He wasn't even afraid she might mock or humiliate him. He could take that. He could deal with her hate and loathing. If he could be certain that that would be her only reaction, he would be far more relaxed.
But he could not live with himself if he, in any way, reminded her of Malik. He could not handle making her afraid.
Nausea threatened. He absolutely could not look at Bakura all night because the first thing he noticed about her was how the smooth skin of her thin throat curved elegantly into her collarbone. The bottom point of the V-neck came to rest at the beginning of the swell of her chest, and the black line that bordered it almost seemed to frame her...
Ryou buried his face into his pillow and kicked off his shoes. That had confirmed it. There was absolutely no danger of his affection for Bakura being brotherly.
He strangled a whimper and felt criminal. How could he betray her trust like that? His first real chance at a friend, the only person to ever stay with him all this time, and he had to go and fall...
He couldn't even think it. Ryou felt like an idiot and a bastard.
Sleep eventually relieved him from his troubled thoughts and brought him someplace far away.
- 8
- 9
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Anachronism