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The Gospel According to Matthew	By : Angelike Category: Yu-Gi-Oh > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1748 -:- 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
- 1-The Gospel According to Matthew
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Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh, and I do not make any money from these writings.
Author's Notes: This story was inspired by some interesting conversations during my World History class while reading excerpts from the sermon on the mount.It has some deeply religious themes (particularly of the Roman Catholic traditions), so if you are overly sensitive to such material, I suggest you turn back now. If you are open-minded and sensible enough to understand that this is just a work of fiction, then please proceed and enjoy.I think this is one of the few stories I've completed that I am actually satisfied with. I particularly enjoyed writing the dialogue between Ryou and Bakura.

The Gospel According to Matthew by Angelike Riddle

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven."

His mother had been a staunchly Christian woman.
As young as he had been when she had died of some unnamed illness, it should come as no surprise that he had not known what it meant to be Christian. When one is small, the only gods in one's life are those who feed you and care for you and tuck you in at night with a gentle kiss on the cheek or an affectionate pat on the head. It had bothered him when the priest who had presided over the funeral service had repeatedly declared that "the deceased" had been "a good Christian woman" in his dramatically baritone voice -- as if that was the best that could be said of her. When he had asked his father about it later, the reply he had received was mumbled and curt, but remained with him for years afterward: "Your mother was the greatest of mothers, Ryou, but she was also the greatest of Christians. Her Faith is what shaped her into the kind and compassionate creature she was up until her untimely passing. Even as the end neared, she never wavered in her love of God nor of life. Pray your Faith will be as strong in the face of the hardships ahead of you. It is Faith that will see you through."
His father, who had always been rather impartial when it came to religion previously, had made a point of taking Ryou to Church every Sunday just as soon as he was old enough to sit quietly through the hour-long mass. It did not take the small boy long to determine that this "worshiping" had been what his mother had been doing when she had disappeared every Sunday morning, wearing her best dress and humming a cheerful tune; in honor of her memory, he forced himself to pay attention to the priest and to the other speakers, though he as often as not had no idea what they were speaking of, and mouthed the words to songs he did not know but were familiar somehow -- maybe he had heard his mother sing them at some point.
He had never felt so close to the fading memory of the woman who had once sung him lullabies and put him to sleep with tales of Jonah and the whale and Joseph and his multi-colored dream coat as the moment he received his first communion at age eight, just a year and a half after her tragic passing. "My mother tasted this same thin bread and sipped wine from a goblet much like this one every Sunday," he had murmured to himself. "Wouldn't she be proud to see me now?" His father had smiled at him, but somehow the smile had not reached his eyes.
Years passed, and as he grew so too did his understanding of what it meant to be Christian. He became far more devoted than any young child had a right to be, preferring to read from the Bible and pray -- both to God the Father and too his own blessed mother -- than to waste him time playing silly children's games. Perhaps his father might have worried about this strange obsession if only he had noticed, but as things stood the elder man had given up his position as museum curator since his wife's death and now spent more and more of his time abroad on archeological digs, leaving his son in the care of his wife's English parents, who could care less what their grandson did so long as he stayed out of their way and out of trouble. Besides, it was not as if the other children wanted him to play with them. Being a half-Japanese, half-English "crossbreed" on top of being an "albino freak" pretty much doomed him to life as the perpetual outsider amongst his peers.
Only the nuns at the Church he continued to attend regularly, with or without company, ever showed him any true kindness. They seemed to understand his loneliness, and never minded with he showed up at strange hours to pray or even help out with various chores -- neither did they mind when he asked them strange questions, which often challenged traditional beliefs. They were so very patient and kind, and sometimes they reminded him of his mother.
He received the sacrament of Reconciliation for the first time at age eleven. His father didn't come back from Egypt for the event, but rather sent him a gift instead: an ancient artifact in the form of a ring. The gift seemed inappropriate (why not send him a cross or a rosary rather than a relic of an ancient civilization that certainly had not recognized the one true God?), but after only a moment's hesitation, he removed the cross one of the nuns had gifted him with and replaced it with the strange ornament.
The weight of the ring felt right and strangely familiar about his neck -- a fact he had found more frightening than comforting.
Suddenly, it felt like he wasn't alone anymore.
Suddenly, it felt like everything had changed.
"Our father, who art in heaven; hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil..."
He prayed long into the night for a response that never came.

"Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall know God."

"Your prayers are useless, you know."
"Take, O Lord, and receive my entire liberty, my memory, my understanding and my whole will..."

"Have you forgotten that your 'will' is no longer yours to give? Honestly, Ryou, why must you continue to carry on this charade of piety? If you would only just give in to me, everything would be so much better for you."

"...All that I am and all that I possess You have given me: I surrender it all to You to be disposed of according to Your will..."
"What is the use of declaring your undying devotion to a god that has already forsaken you? I am your god now."
"...Give me only Your love and Your grace; with these I will be rich enough, and will desire nothing more..."

"If your god had ever loved you at all, would I be here, my dear landlord? Would he have left you to face my darkness alone?"

"...Amen."
"Your purity is truly sickening."

"Blessed are you when men revile you and persecute you

and utter all kinds of evil against you."

"It's been years, landlord," a deceptively kind voice murmured softly. The younger boy, Ryou, shivered as the other's heated breath brushed past his cheek, all too aware of just how close he was to danger. His own lips remained tightly pursed together, even as unwelcome hands explored forbidden places. Tears welled in his eyes, but he refused to make even the smallest sound of protest -- he had learned his lesson the hard way. "Why don't you just give in to me now? It's pointless to resist me. You know you can't win." Ryou jerked as a warm tongue swept along the curve of his neck and up to his ear, forcing himself to bite back a hoarse moan as the tongue was replaced by teeth and aggressive nips at sensitive skin. "You're so weak. Pathetic."
He gasped with pained pleasure as that knowing mouth found an especially tender area, and was ashamed. A low chuckle vibrated against his chest as the dark one lavished attention on his suddenly bared chest.
"Slut," the dark one laughed, finally pulling back to meet the pleading gaze of his quivering victim. "What would your good mother say if she could see you now? If she could see how her innocent little son allowed the devil to seduce him? What would she say if she could hear your telling moans? Your body betrays you, and still you insist that you do not want me -- that this is wrong. Foolishness."
Ryou sobbed.
"Whore. This would not be so terrible for you if only you would give up on that wretched religion of yours. How many times must I tell you that I am the lord your god?"
"No!" The word slipped, and the boy paled.
The other's lips curled into a wicked grin. "No? You would deny your god?"
"Please, Bakura-sama!" Ryou cried brokenly. "Why won't you just let me be? You've taken away everything that else that has ever meant anything to me -- my home, my family, my few friends. Must you take away my Faith as well? Am I not broken enough for you? Do you mean to shatter me completely?"
The dark spirit looked at him with pitying eyes and he reached out to brush away the boy's tears in an uncharacteristically gentle gesture. "I do not mean to hurt you, little one."
"Then why do you do the things you do?"
"I am a jealous god, Ryou. You will worship me or no one at all."

"You have heard that it was said, 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.'

But I say to you, Do no resist one who is evil."

"You're doing it again, aren't you?"

"O God, Who knowest us to be set in the midst of such great perils..."
"Idiot. You don't honestly believe your god will be able to deliver you from these perils, do you? I've told you again and again that your suffering would be much reduced if only you would give up this nonsense."
"...that, by reason of the weakness of our nature..."
"Yes, you are weak. Weak and clueless. You should really thank me for everything I have done for you."
"...we cannot stand upright..."

"Without me, you would be nothing."

"...grant us such health of mind and body..."
"I have been with you for years now, my light. During all that time, has your god ever given you a trace of the miracle I know you've been praying for? No? I thought not."
"...that those evils which we suffer for our sins we may overcome through Thine assistance..."
"Still you persist in your blind devotion. Tell me, do you do this for yourself? Or for your mother?"
"...Through Christ our Lord..."
"She's dead, my host. Do you hear me? Dead."
"...Amen."
"Let it go."

"If any one strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also."

"You never fight back," the former thief king commented absently, eying the slight boy, a delicate reflection of his own visage (or was he the reflection and the boy the original?) from his position splayed out on the bed. "You beg and plead, but you never fight back." The beautiful creature froze in mid-stroke, the homework before him suddenly forgotten as his turned to regard his more sinister counterpart.
"No. I don't."
"Well, why not?"
Ryou shrugged, glancing back down at the papers scattered across his desk with unseeing eyes. "Why should I? Would it do me any good?"
The spirit of the Millennium Ring frowned. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. We'll never know until you try."
The boy's smile was tragic and lost.
"We both know that you are stronger than myself. I could never hope to physically overpower you, and I expect you would only punish me more harshly than you usually do. You would be angry with me. I don't like it when you are angry with me."
The older boy cocked his head to the side as if in thought. "You do not know that I would be cruel with you if you fought back. Perhaps that is what I want. Perhaps what I have wanted all along is for you to grow a backbone."
"Bakura-sama," the younger stated wisely, "even if that is what you desire, it is not something I can give you -- because it conflicts with what I want."
"What you want?" Bakura repeated, dark eyes glimmering with baffled amusement. "What is it that you want?"
"Freedom."
The dark spirit laughed. "Oh, how common you are, my host! How delightfully common! Of course you desire freedom. Who wouldn't, in your position? But tell me, little love, why would fighting back prevent you from gaining that which you so long for? I should imagine fighting back is the means by which you might achieve your goal."
The light one shook his head slowly. "You don't understand. I don't want you to release me because I fought for it but rather because you want to do what's right. I want you to let me go because you see how this sick imitation of a relationship is killing me. I want you to let me go because you care."
The silence stretched long between them.
Finally, Bakura found the words to respond: "And why would you want your freedom to come by this method and no other?"
"Because then I wouldn't have to leave."
The darkness chuckled. "Silly boy. How could I possibly let you go when you speak so sweetly?" In the blink of an eye the thief king was reaching out, pulling the startled boy into his arms, pinning him down, kissing him, touching him, dominating him, and the boy begged and pleaded to be released.
But he never fought back.

"For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father also will forgive you;

but if you do not forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses."

"Honestly, must we go through this every night?"

"O my God..."
"Suppose your god really does exist. Do you really think he would listen to someone like you?"
"...Source of all mercy..."
"You say your god is merciful. If that is so, why does he allow people to suffer? Why is life so miserable? Why are some people sentenced to burn in hell upon death and others rewarded with life in eternal paradise?"
"...I acknowledge Your sovereign power..."

"You look surprised, love. You shouldn't be. I have been listening to what you've been saying for all these years, after all. It only stands to reason that I would learn a little something about your religion, hogwash as it may be."

"...While recalling the wasted years that are past, I believe that You, Lord, can in an instant turn this loss to gain..."
"You haven't answered my question. Is it because you have no answer?"
"...Miserable as I am, yet I firmly believe that You can do all things..."
"You will not be one of the 'saved,' you know. You are one of those the Bible speaks against. A homosexual. An abomination."
"...Please restore to me the time lost, giving me Your grace, both now and in the future, that I may appear before You in 'wedding garments'..."
"I've tainted you with my sin, and you will never be pure again."
"...Amen."
"Don't worry, love. Once I have the power of the Millennium Items and the God Cards at my disposal, I will build us a paradise of our very own. If it pleases you, I will call it Heaven."

"You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.'

But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you."

Owari.

Footnotes: Please remember that this is just a work of fiction and by no means is meant to insult anyone. This was merely my attempt to take my artistic liscence and run with it.
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The Gospel According to Matthew