Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing. All rights reserved.
.~.~.
requiem (n.)
a solemn chant (as a dirge) for the repose of the dead
.~.~.
Questions arose.
Where was he?
Why was he here?
How did he get to where he was?
When did he arrive?
He didn't understand and so he did what any rational human being would do in his situation: he observed his surroundings.
It was hot; the wind chapped his lips and mussed his hair about and the only reprieve was the surprisingly cool sand beneath him. In retrospect it made sense- it was a pale gold. Light colors reflected and dark colors absorbed. (He could thank school for teaching him that.)
Which brought him back to the heat. The bright sun was beating down and that there was no way of escaping it—wherever he was had no trees and he couldn't find shade anywhere nearby. There was nothing but sand dunes for what seemed to be miles.
He was alone.
And yet… for the first time in a very long time, he wasn't afraid. Not of the fact that he'd probably collapse from heat exhaustion if he didn't find water, the fact that he had no idea where he was, or even of the fact that he was alone. Deep within his core there was a wild, primordial instinct that told him he should be afraid; and not only that he should've be afraid; that he should've been terrified...
But he wasn't. It all seemed very far away. There were bigger things to worry about, though he didn't actually know what these bigger things were. He kept walking.
He kept walking despite the fact that his fair skin was burning and despite the growing sense of foreboding within him, the feeling telling him that if he didn't stop he would be in danger. (He couldn't stop he wouldn't stop he wouldn't run away. Not again. He had to keep moving forward. He had to.)
How else was he supposed to save himself?
Running away had never helped him before. It just made everything worse. It always made everything worse.
But soon the slight burn of the sun became hard to ignore. It grew and magnified and and spread and soon his entire body was on fire, soon his body was being ripped apart and destroyed—all at once.
He couldn't keep walking.
.
Bakura Ryou awoke with a gasp and the sound of his heartbeat drumming much too fast in his ears.
.~.~.
It was quiet, it was dark.
One would think that he would be used to this desolation, but it had been a long time since he had truly been alone for the Shadows were never silent, never desolate. It wasn't in their nature. They were disquiet. They were judgement embodied, they were fear and darkness. They were anything but quiet. They were anything but peaceful.
This was silence that was devoid of anything. This was emptiness.
It was suffocating. It made him remember things that he wanted to forget and memories that he'd buried a long time ago under the sand of the Sahara Desert...
The atmosphere was thick with acrid smoke, the metallic smell that could only be blood, and the stench of smoke, of burning flesh. Screams resounded throughout the air. All that he could do was watch in horror, petrified, as his world fell into pieces before his very eyes.
(After the burns had healed and he could move freely once more the child who would soon become the terror known as Thief King Bakura could only resolve to do one thing: get revenge on the people who slaughtered his village; his friends, his family. Even if it meant losing his soul, committing heresy. He would kill the Pharoah, no matter what the cost. He would get revenge. He had absolutely nothing left to lose)...
...The sun was hot against his skin and his throat burned with a horrible thirst. The ropes around his ankles and his wrists were tied tightly- too tightly- he could feel his fingers going numb. His limbs were sore from walking and he felt empty in more ways than one.
How long had he been walking with these too-tight ropes? How long had he been captured for?
He didn't know and his perception of time had been left behind hours before along with his hydration. But he did know one thing and one very important thing at that– with every step that he took, he got closer and closer to the palace, closer and closer to exacting the thing that he'd been dreaming of and training for years upon years.
He could almost taste it now; his revenge. It was in his arm's reach…
… But he knew that he couldn't do it alone.
He needed help and he knew just where to turn. This being, this savior of his was something of an expert with things such as these; of lying and stealing… and of murder as well. This being knew much more than he did.
It was the perfect partnership.This creature, this Demon, would help him exact the very thing that he had dreamed of… but only in exchange for something precious, something that he would never get back.
His soul.
He didn't mind the fact that his soul would soon be lost forever. If this was the only thing that Zorc would take, the only thing that Zorc would accept as payment, then he would gladly give it away.
He had nothing else to lose, after all.
And so the Thief called for him, this Demon of Demons. He closed his eyes and called for him; begging and cajoling, offering his everything. This was the moment that he had been waiting for.
His world was engulfed in Shadows...
Everything else was bits and pieces; fleeting, formlessHalf-formed thoughts and unfinished sentences here and there, brief glimpses of destruction.
He'd never managed his goal. All that he'd manage to do was continue the cycle. All he'd managed to do was destroy the lives of countless others in his quest for something as elusive as darkness itself.
And he hated himself for it.
Hate. Hate was a familiar feeling to him. It was what had gotten him into this situation. It was what he felt for the Pharoah, for Zorc. He hated and hated and hated.
(But he mostly hated himself for what he had done.)
A new feeling emerged behind the hatred. It engulfed him like the flames of all those centuries ago...
No, wait.
He'd felt this before. When he'd stolen for the first time, when his mother had caught him sneaking out to play before he'd finished his chores…
Guilt.
A very official-looking paper was stamped, a door was slammed, and King Enma Junior made an extremely important decision.
And thus our story begins…
.~.~.
Story Notes:
For YGO:
This story is set post-canon. Assuming that YGO began in June 1994 and ended in August 1995, this story begins 10 months after, in May- June 1996.
For YYH:
This story is set post-canon as well. Assuming that YYH began in May of 1993 and ended in May 1995, this story begins around 11-12 months after it ends.
For HP:
This story is an AU of book six, which is where we diverge onward from canon. It begins in the summer in between book five and book six, after all of the students have come home for vacation blah blah blaaaaah. There may be some similarities, but I'll try my best to not recycle materials since most of the people reading this have probably already read the entirety of HP.
I want to give credit to an abundance of authors who inspire me greatly and have given me numerous ideas for this story with their own fantastic writing. These also double as fanfic recs, in case anyone was interested in readin' some YGO/HP or YYH/HP fanfiction.
Thank you:
Phate Phoenix (The Difference Between Shadows and Darkness)
Lethotep (Shadow Balance),
JoIsBishMyoga (The Best Defense and A Great Offense),
Out-Of-Control-Authoress (No Strings Attached, Blood Bound),
JewelValentine (A Crossing of the Ways),
and
S. Lawliet (who's story name I can't remember at the moment but who still deserves much credit and many thank yous for being a great writer with original ideas)
Please, give theses authors some love for me, as they're the reason this story even exists. Without these people's writing this work would've never been written.
.
Author's Notes:
This is my repost of Chasing Shadows. V1 can be found on my account, and I will not be deleting it. I feel as though a fresh start will be good for this story, and I hope that everyone enjoys. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but please be gentle for I am far too sensitive.
Please review, even if it's just a word or two,
-starisfairy (Edited 8/5/14)