A/n: Here it is: the renovated version of My Angel (sucky title, but what can you do?). Hope you like.
Warnings: Shounen-ai, lack of imagination, and I fear slight OOCness.
Disclaimer: See that word? Means I'm not claiming Yuugiou for my own. I'm dis-claiming it, as in it's not mine, and I'm letting you know! DO WE HAVE AN UNDERSTANDING?
The room was cold and empty when Bakura Ryou stumbled in. He collapsed onto his bed, curling himself into a fearful ball.
Mother was dead. Father was always gone, occasionally sending gifts to him. But for the mysterious spirit living in the sennen ring, he was alone.
The boy turned and reached for a simple chain by his bedside. He held it close to him, remembering when his father had nearly turned his house upside-down, searching for everything that reminded him of his wife and destroying the items. This small chain necklace was all of hers' he could reach before his father. He held it whenever he felt alone, remembering his mother's gentleness while caressing the cold metal.
"He's so ashamed of me, Mother," he whispered to the wall. "What did I do? Why does Father hate me so much? Why don't I have any friends? Is this... what I deserve?"
Sighing, the boy brushed away the tears trailing down his face, but more replaced them. The last person who loved him was dead now; too far for his longing arms to reach. His father had loved him once, but he was beginning to forget when that was. The death of his mother seemed to take the very life out of his father, and nothing seemed to matter to him anymore. In time Ryou was forgotten.
All he wanted was to be with someone who loved him.
"Help me," he pleaded in undertones.
"Mother, help me."
A sudden weariness manifested itself in him, and he closed his blood-shot eyes. Insomnia kept them red and puffy, though still the chocolate brown eyes obtained their innocence. A moment ago he was almost too upset to think properly, knowing he was nothing. Now he felt peaceful for the first time in months, and the strained look of fear and sadness smoothed into a gentle complexion, feeling almost as though a hand was brushing away the emotions that troubled him so.
'Sleep now,' a voice breathed gently to him, and Ryou felt the drowsiness intensifying. A small smile tugged on the corner of his lips, and he thought he heard a faint voice in the distance singing to him. He knew the tune; he'd heard it several times as a child.
'Don't you weep my little angel
Wipe these needless tears away.
Don't you weep my little angel,
Dawn will bring another day.
-
Close your eyes my lovely child,
Don't you wake 'till dawn has come.
Close your eyes my lovely child,
Sleep now my little one.
-
Go to sleep you lovely angel,
Rest your head upon my knee.
Go to sleep my lovely angel,
Underneath my shielding wings.'
Ryou was asleep now, completely at peace, with a figure robbed in whites standing by his bed, face hidden beneath the garments. A hand hovered over Ryou for a moment, moving as though stroking him, but never touching the boy's head. In a moment she was gone, and Yami no Bakura was alone with Ryou.
Bakura had seen his lighter half drop lifelessly onto the bed, watched him touch the wall longingly, and heard him whisper, "mother". He stayed in his spirit form, watching the small wretch with just a tinge of guilt surfacing his thoughts.
The dark soul hated weakness and laughed when he caused others to suffer as he once did, but watching this smaller and more childish version of himself collapse like that stirred him a little. There was something disturbing about the way the hopeful light in the boy's eyes (which had always annoyed him) was gone.
Frankly, it reminded him of something from a long time ago: Ryou was an almost exact mirror of himself when he pined for his own mother 3,000 years ago.
Bakura remembered the empty feeling of being without her; but he had since learned to hate the weakness called 'love'. He had pushed aside all his weaknesses when he saw what they were doing to him.
But Ryou was different. He was clinging to his loss, and it was eating him away, hurling him deeper and deeper into the illusion of obsoleteness. The emptiness seemed to radiate from his soul room nowadays.
Bakura folded his arms across his chest irritably, waiting for the other soul to get up. But Ryou wasn't getting up... wasn't managing to heal. Why did this make him so uncomfortable?
The child suddenly stopped crying and blinked sleepily, finally closing his eyes. Bakura sensed another presence. It startled him and he readied himself to take over Ryou's body, knowing that the boy wouldn't defend himself well in this state. Weak and useless soul or not, he needed the body, and so was prepared to protect his vessel.
The presence he sensed was in some kind of spirit form, but there seemed to be nothing threatening about it. Relaxing a little, Bakura glanced back at Ryou, observing the sudden peacefulness in his face and emitting from his soul room. He looked so calm when asleep, and so fragile.
Bakura was vaguely reminded of a beautiful, but extremely breakable vase he once stole in his tomb robber days. The treasure used to always leave him in a state of confusion (NOT insecurity). It seemed that just by touching it with his rough fingers, it would shatter. He wanted so to caress its smooth golden features, but could not bring himself to when he looked down at his coarse, blood stained hands. Those hands would corrupt the beauty of the perfectly molded item.
Bakura scowled.
He so did not just compare Ryou to a treasure! He was merely thinking of his fragility, not his value. The boy was so thin and frail. His smooth features relaxed, his light skin and hair made him look so pure- er, weak, rather.
Ryou's lips slowly curled into a soft smile, perfecting the adorably peaceful look. Bakura stiffened and felt heat rise to his face, his heart pounding a little faster. He didn't understand how such an insignificant thing as a smile could so suddenly overwhelm him.
'Pathetic vessel,' he thought to himself defiantly. 'Pitiful, weak, foolish, beautiful, idiotic- wait a minute...' (A/n: How terribly original of me...)
Fuming, the spirit tore his eyes away from the sleeping boy, refusing to allow himself to make another slip. It was only then that he noticed a barely visible figure raising its hand as though to touch Ryou, and instead began slowly tracing an invisible line just above him before dropping it regrettably.
Bakura started, but he blinked and it was gone; as was, he noticed, the strange presence he sensed.
He walked noiselessly to the place where the spirit had been and searched for a piece of it that had perhaps not yet left, curious as to exactly what it was. He made the mistake of looking down at Ryou. Momentarily frozen, he again stared at the angelic boy, reminded even more of the treasure he once possessed. Beautiful, yet untouchable...
Bakura suddenly came out of his trance, and realized with slight fury that he had leaned in a little closer to his light and reached out a hand to touch the invitingly soft skin. He attempted to pull his hand away, but found it difficult to.
He had to know if that skin was as smooth as it looked. Had to...
He'd used the body before, but when possessed by another soul, a body alters slightly to better suit the new possessor. He'd never actually touched his skin in its original state, under a light soul's possession.
Bakura timidly ran his finger down the tear-stained cheek.
'Soft... and beautiful...' he admitted to himself, eyes dimming with greed.
'...Mine.'
He quickly lost control over his thoughts upon coming in contact with the weaker being's skin.
'So different from me... so untainted. Gentle, child-like eyes...'
Wait.
Ryou's eyes... were... open.
Immediately, Bakura leapt back into the ring. Ryou just blinked, confused and sleepy.
"Mou... hitori no boku?"
Looking again and seeing that there was nothing, Ryou shrugged it off and drifted back to sleep.
A/n: So...
Mou hitori no boku is what Yuugi calls Yami no Yuugi, and because Ryou never really talks to his yami in the manga or anime, I figured that's what he might call him if he did. Later he'll start calling him 'yami' for convenience purposes.
I tried to keep Bakura a little more in character this time around. It wasn't easy. I'm afraid I just made everything all the more complicated and confusing and nonsensical.
That stupid song took up so much space! Geez.
And if you haven't figured it out yet, "this is speaking", 'this is thinking', this is singing, 'and this is evidently singing inside your head'.
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