How you remind me: Prologue/Chapter one. ("How you remind me")
Disclaimer: NO, AGAIN, I do NOT own any kind of anime. I don't own the band Nickel Back, or any of the songs to be used in this fic. I don't own karaoke. I DO own Mystic Dream because I made it up, and I don't own the idea of Ryou being a good singer.
Dedications: Umm...sadly, I'm not specifically dedicating this because there's not really a need...I suppose I could dedicate this to song fics or something. OH! I know! I'll dedicate this to YOU! THE READER! Grins Thanks for the reviewing!
Japanese translations and notes at the bottom.
Malik: Good Marik.
Marik: Yami Marik
Bakura: Yami Bakura
Ryou: Good Bakura
And...do to freakish problems, underlined speech is mind-link.
It's Friday night again, and though many a teen are glad for the break from school, there is one in particular who celebrates this night. It is not because his grades are poor or the teachers despise him in particular...no, they despise him and the others equally, and he is a good student to the best of his abilities.
...It is not because he is so sure that all the girls will hound him tonight, he does not consider himself "dreamy" by any stretch of the imagination. Regardless of whether or not he is, he doesn't even really care.
So why? Why does he look forward to this day so much? Why does he patiently check off the days?
Because Friday night is his night to escape...his night to express himself without worry...
For tonight...is open mic night.
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It all started when Ryou Bakura was reluctantly dragged to a teen club called "Mystic Dream" by his good friend Malik Ishtar. His yami and Malik's yami were busy that night, going out to enjoy the nightlife, Ryou assumed. Despite his reluctance, Malik managed to drag him along...but not without demanding that he get to pick out Ryou's outfit.
Once again, the poor soft-spoken teen was forced to give into his friend's enthusiasm and his own polite nature.
...But even he had to stop at the piercings, begging his friend not to turn any part of his body into Swiss cheese.
The result, however, with a little more pleading from Ryou...
Ryou was clad in black leather pants...which were about two sizes bigger then the ones Malik wanted him to wear, but he blushingly insisted that they were far too tight. An equally tight black shirt with a white dragon flying across it and no sleeves, and a white jacket.
Ryou didn't mind the tightness of the shirt, as much as the shortness. But he figured Malik would do something like that with his middle being bear half the time Ryou saw him. Which might have been why he insisted on the jacket...
Regardless of the state Ryou was in, he did make it to the nightclub. It had open mic that night, allowing anyone to bring any of their songs, bands, discs, whatever...and just sing. The mood of the place itself was dark, but peaceful, and made one want to reflect and relax. The colors of the club were dark blue, silver, the occasional flash of white, and ash black.
The ring-bearing teen found himself captivated by the music, the mood...everything.
After relaxing for a while, listening to the music, talking, and a few drinks...(No, not beer, wine, whisky, vodka, or anything akin to it. Ryou doesn't get drunk...okay; maybe he does in some ficts...but not in this one.)
Malik suddenly had an idea as he watched Ryou's eyes wander to the stage. Despite Ryou's denial, he was quite the singer. So...though without his permission, and against his will, Malik strode up to the stage with a devious grin on his face.
Ryou chuckled, assuming that he friend was going up to take the mic...and he was right, just not exactly. Malik smiled at the audience and asked everyone if they were doing all right. He was met with a fair amount of enthusiasm...and a grin from Ryou.
But white-haired teen's face instantly drained when he heard Malik announce that "My good friend Ryou will be taking the mic now."
Ryou desperately mouthed "No!" over and over, but Malik only grinned wider.
"Come on, guys. Give him a hand...he's a bit shy, but I'm sure we can get him to come up here."
So, being the supportive –cough-cruel-cough- audience that they were...they immediately broke out into applause. Ryou gave a weak and embarrassed smile, standing as nervously as a chicken in a fox den.
He walked up to the mic, and whispered that he would get Malik back for this, of course...Ryou's threats to Malik were about as frightening as a Watapon.
They just freakin' weren't.
So Malik laughed and went to sit down. Ryou flashed another weak smile, and picked out one of the songs from the list. As Malik had predicted, the doe-eyed boy sang beautifully.
And though the audience loved it, Ryou loved it even more.
He felt...so free when he began to sing. Even if it was in front of those people.
So, ever since that night, Ryou would come every Friday, and that was when Bakura and Malik's Yami would hang out, so no problems ever arose. Bakura was out almost all night, if not the whole night.
He would come at 7:00 when the club opened, and stay to listen quietly until 9:15. Every Friday, at 9:15, the Hikari of the ring would go to the stage, and sing.
As for what words would pass through his mind and through his mouth on these occasions...? Songs that he related to...songs which expressed his feelings. Often, these songs...were sung with a person in mind. The teen who shared his soul...
But the darker was never aware of these songs, sung to him alone...he never knew where his Hikari went on these nights...how he dressed, what he said. He didn't know the person this boy turned into when freed...until one night.
Ryou slipped on an outfit slightly similar to what Malik had dressed him in that night,
somehow feeling more comfortable in those clothes then he had before. Though, it wasn't quite the same...considering he had made a few changes.
He simply assumed that Bakura was already gone. Whether or not that was a costly mistake, he wouldn't know until later. But it was a mistake, costly or not.
In truth, Bakura was lazily lounging in his room...bored out of his morbid little mind.
By this time, he was usually hanging out with Yami no Marik. However, what Ryou didn't count on, was that Bakura didn't feel like it tonight.
And that began it all...
Ryou's POV
I finished slipping on my jacket, and smiled at myself in the mirror. I guess I didn't look too bad off, but my smile was actually for the fact that I was finally getting to go to the club again.
According to Malik, I actually have some "fans" there. Unbelievable...not to mention embarrassing. But if you listen to him talk, I might as well be a super-star.
Bakura will probably come home drunk, as usual...maybe I should check to make sure that all valuable things have been put away. Especially...the kitchen knives...
We've...become very familiar with each other...
Me with its point, it with my skin. I shudder in memory. Thank Ra Bakura is in a slightly better temperament these days. The only time he's bad is when he's angry...meaning that if I stay out of his way, I'll stay in one piece. Most likely.
...I sigh deeply, forgetting myself in thought for a lingering moment.
Bakura really isn't as evil as most people believe. Honestly. I mean, sure...he's done bad things. I know this all too well. I wish I didn't. He's hurt people...he's stolen...he's selfish and cruel.
But honestly...he's not all bad. Just as I've seen everything bad he's done, I've also seen other things. Things no one else can see. It comes with being a Hikari, after all.
Our very souls are bound together.
So I've seen things...perhaps it has only served to anger Bakura more, but I know that there's more to him then just a dark heart.
Shaking myself out of my muse, I head outside. Though Malik doesn't come with me all the time, tonight he's going to drive me there on his motorcycle.
...I accepted, just as long as he promised not to jump any more semi-trucks with me on board.
I hate it when he does that.
Bakura's POV
...I'm lying on a bed. Doing absolutely nothing. Except for staring at the wall.
I'm. So. Freakin'. Bored.
Normally, I'd be going out with the "psycho saiyin wanna-be with the tongue disorder" that I happen to refer to as "friend" from time to time...unfortunately, as fun as insulting the pharaoh all night and getting plastered until I'm sure I killed off all my brains cells is...
For some reason, I don't feel like it. In fact, I don't even feel like torturing the Pharaoh and his mini look-alike.
I snort in amusement. Oh look...the devil is wearing a parka.
...And I don't mean me.
Yami no Marik was sure I had lost it when I told him. HE'S one to talk!
...But, of course, that also means that he's an expert on the subject.
Well, I could break into the Kaiba house again. Nah...too easy. He's probably still traumatized from learning that he could actually be wrong. Besides, I am NOT a babysitter. I don't DO hyper ten-year-olds.
Maybe I should look into someone else's meaningless existence for the heck of it.
...Hmm...wonder what my Hikari is doing. I roll my eyes idly...but I might as well check. I'm so bored, I'm only a few steps away from thinking that even the pharaoh would be good company.
And that is scary.
Normal pov
Bakura stood just as Ryou walked out of his bedroom. His ears picked up the shutting of a door. Ryou's, to be exact. Bakura quietly opened his door as Ryou went down the stairs...he was so deep in thought, that he didn't even notice the tomb robber's amused gaze.
'Well, well, well...what's he up to?' The king of thieves thought, interest slightly rising. He could feel sparks of happiness coming from Ryou's soul room. The teen was excited about something...
Bakura frowned. He paused for a moment, considering simply demanding where Ryou was going...but then, where was the fun in that?
Though it would probably be all too easy...why not follow him?
So as Ryou cheerfully headed out the door, his Yami watched from a shadow. Bakura heard Malik's motorcycle ride up, and his eyebrows raised. After exchanging quick hellos, Ryou got on, and they sped away.
"Hmm...well, my little hikari...what are you hiding?" Bakura murmured, and picked up the green living room phone. A phone call would be helpful...and Bakura had learned a while back how use this handy little device.
"Whadda ya want?" An annoyed voice demanded over the other line.
"World domination, but then, don't we all?" The thief king smirked.
"Heh, well if it isn't the guy who's too good to hang with me, yet still calls to crack jokes just to tick me off. Like I said, what do you want? And spit it out, I don't have all night."
"Yeah, you do. ...You're half drunk already, aren't you?" Bakura asked, rolling his chocolate colored eyes.
"Nope. Completely." Marik murmured with a grin.
"...Of course. How foolish of me to underestimate your guzzling skills. Do you know where in Ra's name your hikari is going?"
Marik snorted. "...Humph...yeah. But since when is that your business?"
"Since he took mine with him."
There was a slight pause.
"Lemme get this straight, Baka-ra. You let your hikari waltz out the door, without knowing where he was going, when you actually cared enough to bother ME about it!"
"...One, don't call me that again, or I swear I'll kill you. Two, what I do with my hikari is my own business...and I have my reasons. And three, you don't have anything important to do, so yeah. Now tell me where they're going."
"...Do you realize how that second one sounded?" Marik asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement.
"Just shut up and tell me."
"...If I shut up, then how in Ra's name can I tell you? We don't have a mind-link, stupid."
"JUST TELL ME!"
Marik blinked. "Okay, okay...sheesh...don't have a cow, man. You sound like a woman..."
"I'm not PMS-ing, you idiot. I'm gonna kill you..."
"Aww...but, Kura! I thought you loved me!"
"In my nightmares, yes. NOW TELL ME!"
"...They're headed to this night club called "Mystic Dream"."
"What for?"
"...Don't know, and currently, don't care."
"Whatever. I'll stop by to 'thank' you later."
"...I'll sleep with one eye open, and bolt the door."
Bakura was remotely familiar with the town, and he had passed by the club at least once, so he could get there easily enough. ...Of course, this meant either getting there late and possibly missing...whatever he had hoped to see.
Or stea...well, borrowing, actually...the keys to Ryou's car. It technically wasn't stealing if he put it right back where it was and it wasn't missed. Boring, annoying, and slightly dampening to his mood...but true.
So, after grabbing his favorite pocketknife, just in case anyone decided to give him trouble...and snagging the keys from the hook in the kitchen, Bakura turned to follow his light's path.
Two near wrecks later, and some very angry drivers who might not have made it home on time, or ever, if Bakura hadn't already been busy...he made it, in one piece, to the night club. The dark blue welcome sign flashed in silent greeting, and he slipped through the doors, and looked around.
Nice. Not a bad place...
Bakura's gaze slowly swept over the room, noting the cheerful waitresses, the mellowed customers, the chatting teens, the stage, its current singer, the locks of white and bleached blonde, the...
Locks of white? Bleached blonde? ...Bingo.
There he was...Ryou. He nodded to Malik, and laughed about something he apparently found funny that the blonde had just said. He idly sipped his drink, and his eyes casually went back to the stage.
Still remaining hidden, Bakura sat down at one of the far tables, more shadowed then most. But not wanting to look too 'hidden', he ordered a drink, and pretended to actually be drinking it as he watched the doe-eyed boy.
Unfortunately, he couldn't hear them at all, and could mainly just see their faces. But that's the price of shadow stalking...you can't get too close.
Bakura slowly slipped back into boredom, annoyed that nothing had happened yet. Although Ryou seem to give a good deal of his attention to the stage, it was not to anyone in particular.
...So what? What was important about this place, anyway?
'Meaningless is right...' The tomb robber mused, playing with his knife. Though, in his disinterest, Bakura slipped and sliced his hand slightly. It was enough to pull him out of his boredom, though.
Damn it! Bakura thought before he could stop it, and accidentally sent it over mindlink.
Something wrong? Ryou asked nervously.
Shut up, baka. It's nothing. Bakura snapped, disturbed at himself for making the stupid mistake.
...Umm...okay. Ryou answered, sounding slightly wary, and...a little sad. Of course, Bakura didn't understand the latter emotion. Nor did he care, at the time.
But finally, after a bit more of annoyed waiting from Bakura, something did happen. Ryou stood suddenly, smiled at Malik knowingly, and walked up to the stage. He grabbed the mic, and prepared to pick out a song as some of the costumers whistled or grinned in anticipation.
Bakura, however, was only staring. The reason? He...hadn't exactly noticed what the Hikari was wearing before then.
...Yikes.
...Well, that was certainly different from the normal Jean and sweater look Ryou insisted upon wearing.
'...He should dress like that more often.' A voice whispered in the dark corner of Bakura's mind, chuckling eerily. 'He does pull the leather off nicely...but...I only think that because he looks so much like me.'
'Sure you do...just keep telling yourself that. Ooh...dang, he looks good from the back too.'
Ryou's own gaze scanned the crowd with a delighted twinkle...until he did a double take...and stopped cold.
A yami. His yami. Yami no Bakura.
'Bakura...' Ryou didn't know how it got there...but he felt this spark of anger within him.
Maybe it was just too long. Too much...maybe the angel of patience finally had his wings clipped. But whatever it was...the teen had finally had enough. That was the last straw...
This was his sanctuary. His place to find peace. And now...even that wasn't safe. Before common sense had a chance to react, anger hog-tied it and threw it in a closet, dancing on top of it for good measure. Ryou's gentle doe eyes narrowed dangerously...well, if Bakura came here to invade his life, he'd get a piece of his mind, too.
Bakura saw Ryou's expression, realizing instantly that it was aimed straight at him. In opposite to Ryou, his narrow eyes widened considerably. 'How dare that little...who does he think he IS!'
Ignoring the expression, or simply not seeing it, Ryou went through the songs again. That one! Not entirely fitting, but maybe his 'master' would get a clue this time...after all; he usually got everything else.
So, pressing play, someone dimmed the lights for him, and he waited to begin singing. He gripped the microphone in his right hand; his left hung at his side. His eyes at the floor for now...just a moment longer...and his soft voice began to drift through the air, captivating all who stopped to listen.
Especially one white-haired shadow.
"I never made it as a wise man...
I couldn't cut it as a poor man stealing."
Ryou looked up now, gaze lingering on his Yami for a moment,
but it slowly swept across the room.
"I'm tired of living like a blind man...
I'm sick of sight without a sense of feeling,
and this is how you remind me..."
His gaze returned to the man in question...Ryou still didn't know what he was doing. But for now, didn't care. Couldn't care. There wasn't any turning back...
"This is how you remind me of what I really am,
this is how you remind me of what I really am...
It's not like you...to say sorry, I was waiting on a different story..."
And he was. He had hoped so many times...but he had hoped in vain.
"This time I'm mistaken, for handling you, a heart worth breaking!
And I've been wrong, I've been down...been to the bottom of every bottle...
These five words in my head...scream 'are we having fun yet'?
Yeah...yeah...yeah...no, no.
Yeah...yeah...yeah...no, no."
Malik was really surprised by the anger he saw flash in his best friend's eyes, so he followed Ryou's gaze. He couldn't help but gape. He knew Ryou had sang some songs about Bakura...it wasn't that hard to see...but...
He had no idea Ryou had the nerve to...
Then again, deep down...he knew this day might come. Bakura had pushed Ryou just a little too far this time. Judging by the look in Bakura's eyes...he knew that too.
For now...Malik could only watch and wait.
Ryou swallowed hard at the words he knew were just about to come out of his mouth...and he knew what this was going to mean...but it was true. He just couldn't believe he was actually going to say them.
Publicly, he might add. But he thought this all in a matter of seconds, before the lyrics started again.
"It's not like you didn't know that...
I said I love you, and I swear I still do.
And it must have been so bad...
'Cause living with me must have damn near killed you."
Bakura's mind had to go over that a second time before it registered. And even then, it took a third time just to realize that he actually said that. ...Well, he certainly had guts. Bakura, however, wasn't exactly ready to praise the boy on his bravery.
Malik...was trying not to choke on his drink.
"And this is how you remind me
Of what I really am...
This is how you remind me
Of what I really am..."
The music slowed for a moment more, going back to the chorus.
"It's not like you...to say sorry, I was waiting on a different story.
This time I'm mistaken...for handing you, a heart worth breaking
And I've been wrong; I've been down, into the bottom of every bottle...
These five words in my head, scream 'are we having fun yet'?
Yeah...yeah...yeah...no, no.
Yeah...yeah...yeah...no, no."
Ryou's eyes were shadowed pools as he sang the dark melody. Submersed in his world, unable to return...just as long as the music played. The music slowed for a second longer as it waited to swell again in a final chorus. All the while, two people in the crowd watched the singing teen, nearly awe-struck. Each amazed for their own reasons.
One's reaction was almost assured to be anger, the other's would be fearful. Almost like the before and after of the singer himself.
As the song ended, the club erupted in clapping and a few people whistled. However, one trio all held their breath. Ryou walked back to Malik, and Malik stared at him like he had just fallen from the sky.
"...Are you crazy?" Malik asked softly, very and horribly sincere about the question.
"Well, if I am, I'm sure you would know..." Ryou replied, just as soft, just as sincere.
"That's not funny, Ryou. I'm being serious...I can't believe you actually did that!" Malik's eyes might have even gotten wider then from when he was singing. Okay, who was this, and what in the name of the shadow realm itself did he do with Ryou?
"It wasn't meant to be a joke, Malik. I'm serious too. Dead serious. And right now, neither can I..."
"Well, I pray that the first part of 'dead serious' isn't what you're going to be..." Malik mumbled, running a hand through his hair. "...I believe your double might want a word with you..." He added, seeing Bakura staring in their direction.
Ryou turned to see him and they both made eye contact. Bakura's eyes narrowed again, but he didn't say anything.
Apparently, he was going to wait until there weren't any witnesses.
And since I'm not sure where to leave it, that's where we're leaving off at.
Bakura: What the heck was that?
L.W.K: ...I don't know.
Ryou: ...I'm a rock star.
L.W.K: Something like that...-Grins- I bet you DO have a good singing voice. People say that guys with British accents sound like rock stars...so, why not, ne? Chuckles
Bakura: Am I really going to kill him for that?
L.W.K: -Pauses - No, because then this would be one of the shortest non-one shot BXRs ever created. Not to mention, completely lacking in fluff.
Bakura: And just WHERE did you get this song?
L.W.K: Karaoke revolution! It ROCKS! ...And I aced this song three times. Lol...and come ON. That whole "Poor man stealing" thing was such a ridiculously good coincidence!
Well, love, peace, random cuddling bishies. NOW REVIEW! ...And no flames, because...I control Bakura in this story.
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Translations for the people who are too lazy to look up the English meaning that I have to be bothered with:
Baka: It means stupid, idiot, fool, exc. Basically, anything to do with being stupid or any kinda of insult like that. It also means, "damned", but I never use it for that. Only as an insult. ( It would sound stupid."Baka baka!" No offense, Japanese people.)
Baka-ra: In case you didn't catch this, it's not really a Japanese word. It's just the name I call Bakura when I'm exceptionally mad at him.