Title: Absolution

Rating: M

Summary: The smallest thing can affect the course of a person's life. Ryou Bakura, who was already teetering on the edge of upheaval, is slowly discovering that his birthday present may change his life entirely. (B/R, slight AU)

Notes: You know what bugs me, both in cannon YuGiOh and fanfiction? I never believe Ryou's reaction when he discovers Bakura. Season zero and the manga came pretty close, but I still don't think it had quite the scope I was looking for… and then subsequent seasons of YGO washed out his personality and gave him very few appearances until close to the end. Hence my story shall be about Ryou receiving the Ring and trying to cope with the darkness that inhabits it.

I'd also like to mention that this is slightly AU, but if it did fall within one of the cannons I'm leaning more toward the manga cannon rather than the anime, since Ryou had more appearances and more personality in the manga. Also, expect Ryou and Bakura to be out of character at time. They both have to experience a full range of emotions, so there will be times when Ryou gets angry and Bakura feels something akin to tenderness.

And, finally, this story was named after an album from Muse. Each subsequent chapter will correspond to one of the songs on the album.

Absolution Chapter One: Intro

The first thing Ryou became aware of was the smell of burning pizza. For several seconds nothing else registered, no touches or sounds, as he simply experienced that one smell. Slowly, thought came back to him, and from that dizzying whirl of inanity came one thing: Why could he smell burning pizza?

He threw off the shroud of sleep in an instant, cursing as he vaulted over the couch and dashed into the kitchen. His dinner was quite past the point of being done. With a sigh, he pulled the charred pizza from the oven, bemoaning his lack of luck; it was the third time something like this had happened this week alone.

"Maybe I should I stop napping while I make dinner," he muttered disparagingly to himself. He would have muttered it to someone else, but he lived alone. Not by choice though, it wasn't as though he enjoyed the oppressive solitude to any degree. His parents had made the decision on their own, packing up all of his stuff and shipping him off to an apartment in Domino City without the tiniest hint of his consent. He couldn't fault them for it though, they had only sent him away because of the extreme violence and bullying he had faced at his former school; still, it wasn't as though sending him to a new city would take away the personal qualities other people found worth terrorizing him over. But he could, and would, resent his parents over the decision they had forced upon him. In one fell swoop they had taken everything from him—his friends, his home, and most importantly his beloved little sister. Amane was a bright star in a dark world, caring and comforting and completely entranced by her older brother.

He hadn't been completely abandoned though; his father visited as often as possible—which, admittedly, wasn't particularly often. Professor Bakura lived for the thrill of uncovering lost history; it was a miracle that he had been able to pull himself away from Egypt long enough to have a family in the first place. And now, with his domestic life divided between two separate households, Ryou saw less of him than ever.

Shaking the melancholy thoughts from his head, Ryou turned back to his ruined dinner. How had it managed to get so burnt without him noticing? But, even as he pondered that question, he already knew the answer: he'd been dreaming again. From a young age, he had been plagued by vivid dreams and, sometimes, at the most unexpected and unappreciated moments, they came to pass in the real world. Tonight's dream had been strange and vague: a heavy sense of foreboding, a flash of gold, and the image of a short boy with tri-colored hair and a happy face. It wasn't what he would normally consider one of his 'premonitions', but the foreboding clung to him even now.

A knock suddenly sounded at his door, startling him out of the odd feeling that was biting at his heels. Setting down the pan that he'd been trying to scrape his former dinner off of, Ryou went to answer the door.

A man in a gray uniform stood in the hall just outside his apartment, a heavy bag slung over one shoulder. "Are you Ryou Bakura?" he asked impatiently.

"Yes," Ryou answered, curiosity riding him now.

"Package," the man muttered as he shoved a box into the boy's hands, staying just long enough to collect a signature before promptly disappearing down the hallway.

"I wonder who it's from," Ryou pondered as he set the box down on his kitchen table. His question didn't go unanswered for long however; the package had been post-marked in Egypt, which meant it was from his father.

Curiously, he opened the box, marveling at how surprisingly heavy it felt for its relatively small size. Inside the package was a letter and another box, this one long and thin. He turned his attention to the letter first.

Dear Ryou,

Happy birthday!

God, tomorrow was his sixteenth birthday, wasn't it? He'd been so angry and despondent since his forced moving-out that he had completely forgotten.

I hope this reaches you in time. I think you'll like it; I found it at a local market during one of my digs. It's quite impressive, although I doubt it's genuine, especially since the merchant said it had something to do with that card game you like. (Duel Monsters, right? See, your old man listens!) I know that Egypt has always been my passion but I hope that, maybe one day, it can be yours too.

Best Regards,

Father.

Best regards? Ryou clenched his teeth, forcing his anger down. It never failed to amaze him how his father could write such an impartial letter to his own flesh and blood.

Mood soured, but still curious, he turned his attention from the offensive letter and to the thin box. It was wholly unremarkable, no thicker than two or three inches, and about two hand spans high. In all honesty, he was expecting the present to be a book, as that seemed to be the traditional birthday present his father would give him. Opening the package revealed something that couldn't have been farther from a book. Smooth, rounded gold glittered in the dim lighting of his apartment, shining like a lost treasure. There on a protective bed of cotton and gauze was a pendant of some sort—at least, he was assuming it was pendant since it seemed to have a knob on top specifically designed to string a rope through. It was the most curious pendant he'd ever seen though—a golden ring, about the same size as his spread out hand, with a decorated pyramid in the center, and five smooth cones hanging from the perimeter of the ring.

Ryou wasn't really one for jewelry, seeing as it usually just gave other people extra opportunity to make fun of him, but he had to admit that something about this strange ring called to him. Impulsively, he searched through the apartment until he found a long piece of twine, threaded it through the knob at the top of the ring, and slung the makeshift necklace over his head. A heavy weight settled over his chest as the ring jangled quietly. Something struck him then, an incongruent sense of familiarity, as though he had done this before, a thousand times over. Shaking the feeling off, he made his way to the hall mirror, curious to see how the ring looked on him.

The reflection that greeted Ryou was familiar, yet somehow different—like a picture he'd seen hundreds of times, only now it was crooked. The ring hung heavily from his neck, resting over his sternum, and while he was entranced by that dimly glittering gold, he could have sworn that, for just a second, his vision had split into double. Rising out of the shadows had been a specter, a phantom with his face.

Ryou jerked away from the mirror, a hand pressing over the ring. Something eerie passed through him then, a strange sense of extra. He reeled for a moment, whipping his hand off the ring as it became hot to the touch. Panicked, unbalanced, he jerked the chord off his neck, resting the ring on a nearby table before turning his back to the object.

He was being fanciful tonight, he thought to himself. That was all, nothing more; he hadn't really seen or sensed anything, and the ring was just an abnormally large piece of jewelry.

But he was still shaking, and the feeling of extra would not stop plaguing him.

He dreamt that night, uncomfortable dreams of darkness and struggle. In those dreams a voice whispered to him, quiet and low—a deep voice that spoke to him in words Ryou couldn't understand. There was something interesting in those sibilant tones, a hint of adventures and pleasures unknown. And when he was finally pulled from his dreams by the sound of his alarm, the whispers continued.

A/N: That was a little on the side of shortness, but it really is just an introduction. The next chapter should be much longer.

Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh! or anything related to it, nor do I own Muse's Absolution.